I Can See Russia From My Stateroom By Carol L. Bowman Part One As the Azamara Journey navigated through the Gulf of Finland, I stood on our veranda and fidgeted with binoculars. For the past six months, ‘Russia’ had spurred an onslaught of negative press in the US, but I felt a surge of positive
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STREET KIDS IN DELHI −Unlikely Journalists By Carol L. Bowman The outdoor market in the slum neighborhood of Gautam Nagar, on the outskirts of New Delhi, India seemed temporary and chaotic. The faces of the merchants who stood behind kiosks slapped together with odd pieces of wood, plastic and metal, showed the anxious strain
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Sipping A Sling In Singapore By Carol L. Bowman As I drew a slow sip of pineapple juice infused with gin and syrupy liquors through the slender straw, my taste buds quivered at the intense sweetness. But, perhaps it wasn’t the sugary, pink concoction that sent shivers into my center. Maybe, it was knowing
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Feathers For Lunch; Honeybees For Dessert By Carol L. Bowman This wasn’t a trip we could reschedule, but a 36-inch blizzard two days earlier threatened to block our visit with Save the Children officials in El Salvador and a family living at the base of a volcano. As the clock ticked, the nail-biting, pacing
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Treats For An Ex-Pat In Chapala By Carol L. Bowman (Ed. Note: Our apologies for not including this highly topical article in an earlier issue.) The harvest moon rose over Lake Chapala as a swarm of squealing munchkins pushed the buzzer with relentless eagerness. The bell ringers must have been told that houses with
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Remembering Bob Tennison By Carol Bowman Picture this. Over 50 years ago, before airplane cabins were pressurized, as a plane was taking off and gaining altitude, the hatch door popped open! A dashing young steward, the first male flight attendant to work for Braniff Airlines, grabbed the door, hung onto it and attempted to
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The Egyptian Caravan By Carol L. Bowman Fifteen scared, wilted neophytes atop swaying humps, meandered across the Sahara to their tented camp. The silhouette of camels sauntering across hot sand, bearing travelers and cargo, reflected the universal image of the term ‘desert caravan.’ I rode the first camel in a line of twenty, clinging
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The Many Faces Of Eva (e.g., Eva Maria Ibarguren, Maria Eva de Duarte, Eva Perón, Evita, and Maria Maggi) By Carol L. Bowman “I have just one valuable possession; the love that my people have for me. Shed no tears for me.” This line, said by Evita to her adoring citizens during her last
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The Moroccan Men’s Club By Carol L. Bowman It reminded me of Paris, of the Left Bank café haunts where Hemingway, Picasso and Fitzgerald gathered. Rows of small round tables, with two chairs positioned side by side, faced the street in the open-air. The setting provided a backdrop for people-watching and discreet conversation. Moroccan
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Lights, Camera, Action, Couscous By Carol L. Bowman Quarzazate—the Hollywood of Morocco “I’m shocked, shocked, to find out that film making is going on here!”—From the movie Casablanca Of the hundreds of movies, TV series and documentaries that have been filmed in Quarzazate, the Hollywood of Morocco, ironically the movie that is most associated
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