Guitarist in the Old Town of Caceres in front of a medieval shield.

Whose Transculture Is It?

Cáceres is bidding to become European Capital of Culture in 2031 under the banner of Transcultura: cultures crossing borders, mixing and becoming something new. Which is an excellent idea. Although apparently nobody told the Blues. This summer in Korhogo, Côte d’Ivoire, music drifting through my hotel window led me across a dirt road and into…

A Harmony of Difference

In a world that often shouts about what sets us apart, there’s something quietly radical about embracing what brings us together. In this week’s Camino a Ítaca a counterdance against the demagogues threatening to deport an imaginary eight million immigrants. From the rhythms of Castile’s town squares and narrow streets to the rare shared silences of…

One of ‘Ours’

Is he one of ‘ours’? This week’s Camino a Ítaca takes me back on tour. Back to the days when I literally lived on the road and then zooms to the present and questions just how the regional government sees its citizen. Are you one of ‘ours’ or not? You can click over and read…

Jailing Songbirds

The bins are burning in Barcelona again (remind me to get into the replacement business there) for, what on the surface has been sold as a freedom of speech issue. And while freedom of speech does play a significant role in the case of a rapper sent to prison, his right to an opinion is…

Oh, He’s Just Playing…

Daily Garden Gnome left by my neighbors Writing in the local paper. Local Issues with a global take. I never translate literally and the editor trims at will to make it fit. Here’s my version, then theirs. I must have missed the email. Or perhaps the message came via SMS, like the ones Donald can now send out…

Sunday Goodbyes

Writing in the local paper. Local issues with a global take. I never translate literally and the editor trims at will to make it fit. Here’s my version, then theirs. Sunday afternoon in the Calle Moret in this everlasting climate-change-denyer’s indian summer. At first glance everything looks the same. Graffiti splatters the shuttered shop windows…