2013

How I Became an American Douchebag at the Great Wall of China (Despite Good Home-Training and My Best Intentions)

“Hey you,” the vending lady barked at us. “You buy souvenir.” “No, no, thank you.” I said, as politely as I could, pressing my lips together in that unintentionally patronizing, very American way. She stalked off, muttering not quite under her breath. I didn’t understand the words, but I understood the meaning. We were being

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The Faces of Tragedy

In light of the 12th anniversary of the September 11th Attacks, continued political unrest in countries very close to my heart – Egypt and Venezuela and Brazil –, and innumerable natural and man-made disasters that have occurred in places that I’ve visited or desire to visit, I believe this post, written in response to the

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In Search of the Real

In response to someone who told me I hadn’t been to the real China because I didn’t visit a hutong: People like to say that Hong Kong, Shanghai, and even Beijing these days don’t represent the real China, with their modern skyscrapers, ubiquitous Starbuckses, and global influence. The real China is rice paddies and opium

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Montreal Love Fest

This rambles, but…that’s the way love goes. It may be gauche for an American to compare a distinctly non-American city to an American one, but indulge me for a moment, please. Imagine, if you will, New York in summer – without the iconic but overbearing skyscrapers or the ubiquitous scent of urine in the subways,

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Ernest White II