humanity
If nothing else, travel opens your eyes to the colorful quilt that is humankind.
DON'T TALK TO STRANGERS
I feel excited, nervous, naïve, and filled with unbridled ambition. I am in my senior year of high school, and I won one of the most prestigious awards for a high school student, the Aimee Poisson Grant for Journalism. The grant is awarded to the crème de la crème for high school students. I, with fifty students, will study with some of the world's best journalists for three months. We will stay in dorms at the Université de Paris. The committee will give us a translator, and they have arranged personal tours in Paris for us.
VALERIE THOMPSONPublished 3 years ago in WanderJake’s Little Black Book
Jake McKerrigan hadn’t put much stock in anything his father had to say for decades. As a child, Jake had called out the senior McKerrigan for idiocy in thinking when the old man said Oral Roberts University in Oklahoma was going to be “bigger than Harvard.”
Maria K. FotopoulosPublished 3 years ago in WanderMemoirs of a Mountaineer
Albert takes up a new hobby Albert Barnaby Weber was 74 years old when he discovered geocaching. It was his Wife, Penny’s, idea. She had heard about it from her nurse and was filled with excitement reporting the details back to her husband as he wheeled her out of the hospital.
Megan TinsdalePublished 3 years ago in Wander1969
As secretary of Tulsa Heritage Bank, my day consists of prepping the coffee, answering calls, and readily greeting customers with a smile. I couldn’t help but wonder if that was all my life would amount to. But, on one day in 1969, the sun was just beginning to droop towards the west and I was heading home. I recall feeling particularly stifled by the heat and suffocated by my pantyhose. I rummaged through my bag to find my keys, only to look up and see a black notebook propped against my windshield. Suspicious, I looked around to see if anyone else was nearby. I picked up the foreign object and opened it in the name of curiosity.
Dailey WhitehousePublished 3 years ago in WanderA Nomad’s Notebook
Chains of marigold flowers dance in the window as the bus trundles over bumps and potholes. Glass beads and a golden Ganesha swing to and fro above the driver. Even the roof is decorated in a riot of coloured paints, all clamouring to brighten the passengers’ spirits, despite most of them being fast asleep. Tabla drums and the wistful tune of a bansuri flute play through speakers above the dreaming heads, their rhythm bouncing even more than the bus’s wheels on the uneven road.
Sarah HatchPublished 3 years ago in WanderSign of the Times.
Amie’s gap year was everything she had dreamed of. South East Asia’s vibrant, colourful culture teemed with life. Thailand, the land of smiles, was alive with a modern buzz, and an ancient ambiance, with the Buddhist temple of Wat Pho at its heart.
Abigail ConnellyPublished 3 years ago in WanderThe Life and Times of Nigel Prescott Caldwell
Normally, I can pass it off as a magic trick. That’s the only reason I’m still alive, really. Because people are gullible.
Alex GroffPublished 3 years ago in WanderMeet the Digital Warriors of Congo
Let me paint you a scenario. Imagine this: Your life begins in a remote tribal region, tucked away in one of the poorest countries in the world.
Found
Bo was still laughing. Months of constant giggling, guffawing, light huffing and face bending smiles had chiseled a jawline and sculpted Bo's abdominals. All with minimal pain felt and small effort expended. A joyful life since it had been found!
Jane HigginsPublished 3 years ago in WanderPages
First train of the day. Nothing like the rattle of an incoming train and sound of footsteps on tile. Just like always. From the stairwell first. Probably won’t work, but it’s worth a shot.
Meadville
Having lived in Meadville, Pennsylvania for his entire 42 year life, and being the sole owner of the Brandon Family Restaurant, Mark lived a comfortable and happy life. When Mickey’s Firehouse Station opened up on the other side of town, he was afraid that he would lose business and have to close. However, the opposite has proven to be true and the restaurant is thriving! Mickey’s is an old firehouse that was turned into a restaurant, and since it gets regular write-ups in travel articles, it attracts the tourists. Locals tended to frequent Brandon’s and Mark believed he knew everyone in this town of 13,000. Imagine his surprise when a stranger arrived and sat at the bar, placed a black notebook on the counter, and asked for Mark Brandon personally.
Jennifer DoltonPublished 3 years ago in WanderSome of us think it was a Shipwreck
Some of us think it was a shipwreck. Others believe we escaped in the dead of night and stole a boat to sail here before the dawn. There are a few who are convinced we were born here, to mothers who hurriedly swaddled us in gossamer leaves and then melted away in the pearl grey mists of morning. I for myself am not so sure. Not so certain in my beliefs. In my ideas of our origin - our story of how...