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What can I do, I think, that first Sunday, other than being a nuisance at an emergency centre, or a gawker? I fall into something practical, fostering survivors' dogs and cats, and caring for bewildered companion animals who survived but whose owners didn't.
In the big cities in Indonesia, most taxi drivers want to talk about the new president in the USA. Obama lived four years in Indonesia, and the country, the people and the culture left their marks on him, too.
I don't support the view that cab drivers are sources of homespun wisdom and arcane knowledge. Australian cabbies are an amiable, diverse lot, not given to philosophy, though I encountered one spectacular exception.
this poor house where ... as in the book of songs ... a famous rat eats the seedlings ... as they rise
In Brooklyn, politics and Halloween overlap. On one house, a 'Vote McCain' sign abuts another, declaring, 'Haunted House'. As the West Village prepares for its annual parade, the homeless sit in a curve, supplicating to the wealthy.
As I walk the streets of Manhattan, things seem much the same as always. Yet newspapers are peppered with references to the market 'cratering', a term that conjures the desolate landscape of the moon. A friend suggested another interpretation: 'A crater is what's left after a massive explosion.'
'Lee and Christine Rush are your average Ozzie couple, except that their teenage son Scott is on death row in Bali having been convicted of being a hapless drug mule. It will not go down well on the streets of Jakarta if Australians are baying for the blood of the Bali bombers one month and then pleading to save our sons and daughters the next month.'
I untie one small corner .. of the mosquito-net .. and the whole moon .. enters. Without the magician's .. electric hand .. clay's heart might beat
Fibreglass police officers man checkpoints on the road to the Thai-Burmese border crossing at Mai Sai. At a market on the Burma side of the border, child pornography is peddled by the world's most malevolent cottage industry.
The world seemed too untidy for the lyrics of a song .. but he could build a conversation from quotations. .. I wanted mountains, rivers, knowledge .. he stayed, confusing eloquence with revelation.
The Murray is a harnessed beast. Its flow is regulated by locks and weirs. The engineering feats to which we are wedded seem not so much a testimony to our power as to our continued foreignness. From Eureka Street, June 1991.
Like people, no book is exactly symmetrical. Often the cover belies the interior, just as the bright faces of people often hide the stories beneath. Many we ignore too easily, a million we will never know, such being the way of the world.
157-168 out of 200 results.
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