Browsing: Voces&Blogs


After a month or so of experiencing severe cultural shock and asking myself whether I had really been sent to a place within the United States, I started to regard this city as the single most fascinating place I had ever been to —both from a personal perspective as well as from a professional perspective (I am a graduate student of geography).


El Paso — It’s Monday night and as I check my bank account balance on my new smart phone ($299), complete with quick access to all the hottest social networking sites and protected by a cover embedded with a designer handbag label ($30), I wonder how I am going to stretch my dollars to make it through to my next payday —12 long days away.


EL PASO — A bead of sweat hits the mat. Adrenaline is pumping through every vein in my body as I am trying to choke out my opponent with rear naked choke. Looking for an arm bar, rear naked choke, guillotine, or kamora, any opening that my opponent gives me I will take.


EL PASO — Parecía ser una invitación más a la nostalgia: “España 1939-2009, 70 años de Exilio Republicano”. Ese tipo de invitaciones que aparecen intempestivamente en los pasillos universitarios de todo el mundo. No sin causa: la vileza humana hace necesaria la celebración cada tanto de tales ceremonias. El 25 de septiembre pasado se reunieron en el auditorio Blumberg de UTEP más de un centenar de personas para escuchar a una mesa de panelistas, y más importante, a un puñado de los verdaderos protagonistas de una de las muchas historias que es la guerra civil española: la tragedia del exilio.


The things that made me drunk with disappointment, challenge and joy are countless—and they all occurred in a period of just 16 weeks last spring after I agreed to teach just one three-credit introductory journalism class.


People are scared to speak, scared to have their picture taken or to even give their name. When I ask people what they think about the drug war, most of them say: “It’s like hearing the weather reports. It happens everyday…”

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