Recently, I was fortunate enough to be back in Istanbul after a twenty-five year absence. Some things had changed but, for the most part, it was as stunning as it had ever been. In addition to blue glass amulets to replace my original one broken …
We’re one of those families. We love bread. I mean we love it. For a few years before the pandemic, my husband baked four beautiful loaves every week. Gosh, you should see the smile on my face as I write that sentence. As everyone and …
While I was at the loveliest birthday dinner with our brand-new friends we had met just four days earlier, I was asked what it felt like to call America home. Behind the question was the horrible legacy of slavery and the possibility of rootlessness. “Do you feel connected to Africa?”
I answered, “Of course.”
Home is the most complicated and yet simplest thing.
A couple of days after that birthday dinner, I visited the haunting District Six Museum. This space tells the story of a once-vibrant community that was destroyed under Apartheid and left thousands displaced and forcibly removed.
In explaining the area’s significance, the museum describes “home” for those who lived there:
District Six before its destruction under Apartheid, was a community representative of diversity on a number of levels – language, religion, economic class, geographical area of origin – and became a living example of how diversity could be a strengthening characteristic of a community and need not be feared. It was a vibrant community of freed slaves, merchants, artisans, labourers and immigrants, with close links to the city and the port. It represented the polar opposite of what the Apartheid government, inaugurated by the National Party coming into power in 1948, needed people to believe and internalise.
District Six thus became one of the main urban targets for destruction in the city of Cape Town.
On 11 February 1966 it was declared a white area under the Group Areas Act of 1950, and by 1982, the life of the community was over. More than 60,000 people were forcibly removed to barren outlying areas aptly known as the Cape Flats, and their houses in District Six were flattened by bulldozers.”
I recently had the incredibly good fortune to visit South Africa for a project and I was showered with love letters. At every turn, there was beauty, and I took it all in. I learned, stretched, explored, and rested. And I joyfully tasted.
“To plant a seed, watch it grow, to tend it and then harvest it, offered a simple but enduring satisfaction. The sense of being the custodian of this small patch of earth offered a taste of freedom. NELSON MANDELA This Black Garden Epistle comes to …
We definitely did it good! I’ll start at the end and then make our way back. My mom pulled out one of my favorite plates, plump strawberries framing the center, ready to full of the season’s delights. She created Thanksgiving 2.0 and it was delicious. Especially the cornbread, and the okra, and the beans, greens, tomatoes, and chitlins. And the coleslaw and the bright carrot soufflé.
We took our Atlanta culinary adventure seriously (and joyfully, if that makes sense).
We started at a family favorite, pulling up slowly so that I could catch a glimpse of the pit. This shack-like pit had my mind buzzing and eager for the smoky bits.
And then away from barbecue and then a meander to a place filled with so many memories that a tear always forms when I walk into the place. The VARSITY… . We bundled our beloved chili dogs, fries, rings, and pies and composed a mix from the day’s exploration. We foragers pulled out all of the stops and every box for the mashup of all mashups.
Intentional. To kick off the new year, my friends at PostScript asked me to be their guest writer for their lovely blog, In the Loop. This month’s theme is coffee but I was encouraged to write about anything so I did both. If you’re interested …
Like most people, the fairy tales read to me were the mostly sweet versions. Sure, women were hexed by nefarious enemies, harassed by wicked step-relatives, or resigned to a permanent dormant state with the bite of a crimson apple. Overall, though, they ended with our …
“There’s beauty in the day. There’s beauty in the night.” ~ Claudette Dudley
Living a life of wonder seems to be a good bet: an interesting corner, path, neighborhood, town, or city— wonder leads to wandering that often leads to something quite magical.
Onion Dip for Breakfast is taking a class at the University of Chicago. By that, I mean that the women of this site are jointly enrolled in this class, Explorations of Mars, together. Each week, we learn, listen, and share our ideas on the limitless …