Posts tagged "Mexico"

One Regret I Regret: or, if only I'd known what I know now

           If Dr. Who parked his time-traveling, blue police box TARDIS outside of my door, I’d revisit the younger me. That 21-year-old who agonized whether to follow her gut instinct and go to Lima, Peru to live with her American boyfriend and his family in 1972.  As my younger self’s guardian angel, I’d whisper “Yes–take that... Read more »

Get Over Yourself, America

America, did you know there are other countries in the Americas—yes other countries in addition to the United States of America. Hold onto your socks, cheerleader types. The Americas includes North America and South America according to those maps that hung in 1950s elementary schools. And if you really want to get irritated, notice that... Read more »

Bribery, every body does it.

Stop right there. What are you, a teenager? The argument that it is okay to do something that it is most assuredly not okay to do because “every body does it,” sounds like the reasoning of an adolescent wanting a later curfew. Really. America I hate to give you any factual information, but no. Everybody... Read more »
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Who is Barbaric? Aztecs versus Pentagon

Watching a VHS recorded PBS show on human sacrifice by the Aztecs, the question arose in my brain–of barbarism. Who was more barbaric? The Spanish voiced shock to learn the Aztecs would sacrifice humans to feed their gods. Given today’s penchant to sacrifice humans to the mistake of the Afghanistan and Iraq wars, I have... Read more »
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    Candace Drimmer

    I was an accidental expatriate; love and marriage led me to it. One day I was a bandy-legged kid sitting atop my dogwood tree looking out of my small backyard world in 1950s New Jersey, wanting to move somewhere--anywhere, different. Next thing I knew my father had accepted a job in Houston TX. I was ecstatic, it was a foreign land in 1961 America. After high school graduation, my parents’ gave me a matched set of fawn-colored hardsided American Tourister luggage. Taking the hint, I went to college; well four colleges in five years--it was the 60s after all. Meeting a young hirsute anti-war, soon-to-be-Peace Corps volunteer, I fell in love. After finishing up college coursework for my degree, but before I even walking a graduation stage, I grabbed the paper airline ticket my boyfriend had sent me, my brand-new passport, and was off to the airport and Lima, Peru.

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