by Nina Boutsikaris ’09

Before I fall asleep I keep my eye on that spider, his body as big as a dime, legs spread out and gripping the wall of the wooden hut. I’m hot and itchy, and my eyes are swollen from allergies, but I pull the hood of my sweatshirt over my head and push my face against Luke’s shoulder. Someone hits a switch and the single light bulb on...

by Jamie DeGregory Holaday '03

As we drive east through Togo in West Africa, leaving the capital behind, the countryside opens up. Vast coastal plains are tempered with towering mango trees hugging the road. Here and there the beginnings of buildings, or perhaps their ends, stand abandoned. The footprints of the buildings are outlined by...

by Barry J. Ostrow ‘62

Last year, while meandering through Istanbul’s Grand Bazaar, I was stopped by two shopkeepers who spoke little English. I thought they were trying to sell me carpets. But in both cases they were offering to dispose of the empty...

by Tracy Mayor ’83

It’s not just that the ocean is clean and cold, though it is very much both of those things.  It’s that it’s clean because it’s cold. Nothing lives in it, nothing the naked eye can see — no seaweed wraps around your legs, no jellyfish slime you. There is only...

How will you answer when asked “What do you do?” What’s really important?   by Patricia B. Spencer

Are you being productive? 

This question came from my father, a mess hall sergeant–turned–restaurateur, who delivered this “no free lunch” query on a...