The perpetual crisis on our southern border It’s not often a New York Times editorial triggers me. This one, written by Jorge Ramos about the endless crisis on the US-Mexico border, that frontier Carlos Fuentes described as a “bleeding scar,” did. I grew up in California — in wine country no less — where I witnessed firsthand the xenophobia and… Continue reading Three Sorrowful Stories My Spanish Teacher Told Me About America’s ‘Bleeding Scar’
Category: Nonfiction
How to Almost Run into Massive Hippos (Hint: Be Drunk)
Also: pay no attention to where you are going Three of us lurched down the narrow path carved into the dense forest. Weaving our way from one side of the path to the other, we paid no attention to the various squawks and rustlings produced by the creatures in the dense forest surrounding us. Having consumed… Continue reading How to Almost Run into Massive Hippos (Hint: Be Drunk)
Fluid Transfer Permit
Working nights. No end in sight. Walk the lineup, kick the pump on, feel the fluid inside the pipe, watch the numbers on the gauge. Heed cavitation’s gravelly roar, kill the pump, close the valves, walk upstairs, pour and clutch a cup of coffee. Answer the truck driver’s call. Walk the line, check the hose,… Continue reading Fluid Transfer Permit
How My Daughter Succeeded Where Marie Kondo Failed
I’m a dinosaur. In this age of smart phones and online dictionaries, I own two physical dictionaries. You know, dictionaries. Big, heavy books filled with definitions. About as up-to-date as telephones that plug into the wall, sit on a shelf and stay inside when you leave the house. I have carted them across the United… Continue reading How My Daughter Succeeded Where Marie Kondo Failed
The Bar I Loved Best When I Lived in Reno
Mama Bear’s. Great name for a bar. Belongs to the owner’s dog. The owner this woman Deb, she’s real nice. From my house, I walk across the alley, through the gas-station parking lot, and across the street to drink beer and watch football. The first thing I see when I walk in is a watermelon, cut… Continue reading The Bar I Loved Best When I Lived in Reno
Three Notes from Semliki
Non-scientific field notes from a chimp tracker Semliki Note #1 — Data Up early with the bats in a soft rain, I’m walking down a steep path to the climate station we’ve set up at the river. The forest is silent except for some restless insects and one or two birds. I raise the kerosene lantern high to… Continue reading Three Notes from Semliki
Tuskers, Ping Pong, and Spears
A travel memory from central Kenya, 1997 Three six-foot-plus Samburu warriors sat at the bar, their left hands curled around half-liter bottles of Tusker. Their right hands caressed the shafts of long, lion-killing spears. The bar was in Maralal, Kenya, which is where the pavement ended — about a days drive out of Nairobi. It was August and… Continue reading Tuskers, Ping Pong, and Spears
This is Why I Learned to Scuba Dive
My fins were in my left hand and my mask was on my face. The Red Sea was so warm I could barely feel it against my skin. Straight ahead across the turquoise waves the low hills of Saudi Arabia shimmered in the heat haze. I picked up my feet and floated, weightless. There was… Continue reading This is Why I Learned to Scuba Dive
Dusty Around the Eyes
Names change colors when you are dusty around the eyes. Watch a gerenuk at sunset while listening to a Walkman. These two odd sentences are mnemonics I constructed to remind myself of chains of thought that occurred to me while learning to do anthropological fieldwork in East Africa. Searching the forests of the Semliki Valley… Continue reading Dusty Around the Eyes
An Unsent Postcard from Ecuador
This is a postcard I wrote but didn’t send. Midnight. Cobblestones and red tile.Gargoyles, brickwork, and graffiti.Rain, a lack of witnesses. I beg you to forget about the trees.If you fell with no one nearby, or if I were to do it —Would we make a sound? © Copryright 2020 by Jim Latham Photo by… Continue reading An Unsent Postcard from Ecuador