Biskra: You Can't Beat the Real Thing

Wednesday, May 3, 2017 | Biskra, Algeria (map)

The textured streets of Biskra's old town
"Lazem trouh l'Biskra! Wallah lazem!" You have to visit Biskra! You just have to!

Since I first came to Algeria five years ago, I seemed to hear those words all the time. But the desert oasis in question was 400km (250 miles) southeast of Algiers—not exactly a short trip.

So when the exhibition "Biskra: Visions of an Oasis" opened at the Institut du Monde Arabe in Paris last September, it piqued my interest, and I began searching for a moment to break away for a Parisian vacation. But busy month after busy month kept slipping by, and soon it was January and I still hadn't budged. With the exhibition set to end in just days, I toyed with the idea of a quick weekend escape to Paris. That's when I found out I would need to take a work trip... to Biskra. I was thrilled—as if I'd just found out I would need to miss a visit to the Louvre to go meet the real-life Mona Lisa. You can't beat the real thing!

WikiStage Algiers: Young Algerians Tell Their Stories

Monday, April 17, 2017 | Algiers, Algeria (map)

Ibn Ibn Battuta takes the stage (Photo courtesy of Abderrahmane Yaniss Otmani / CAP)
Everyone has a story to tell. Especially in Algeria—the outside world doesn't know your stories. Let's fix that, and let's start today.

That, in essence, was the message of the talk I delivered at WikiStage Algiers, a TEDx-style event held back in December in the capital's brand new, Chinese-built opera house. (The video, I'm told, will be available soon.) In the audience were something close to a thousand young people, many of them from ENP, Algeria's national polytechnical university, whose principal student club organizes the event each year. This year, to cap off my high-profile 2016, they had invited me to speak on a topic of my choice. With guidance from some wise friends, I settled on a topic that is obviously close to my heart—storytelling.

Encouraging young people to tell their stories in the age of Facebook, Instagram, and SnapChat might seem unnecessary back in the US, but here in Algeria, young people lead very different lives. Facebook is just as ubiquitous as back home (if not more so) precisely because of how little opportunity young people here have for self-expression in the real world. Algerian society tends to place high value on respect for elders—who, in turn, tend to abuse this fact by endlessly telling young people how to live their lives. Most youth also feel pressure to conform to very narrow definitions of success. (For some of the elite students I was addressing, for example, family expectations might boil down to "Doctor, pilot, move to France, or you're a letdown... and no complaining about it.")

But regardless of social norms, family expectations, or cultural circumstances, we're all human. We all have talents, we all spill out of the molds and color outside

I Took A Chill Pill in Mallorca

Wednesday, March 22, 2017 | Mallorca, Illes Balears, Spain (map)

Upward: Scaling limestone cliffs high above Mallorca's Bay of Pollença
Spain's Balearic Islands sit in the western Mediterranean, roughly midway between Barcelona and Algiers, making it a short flight for Nina and me when we visited last September. Our destination was Mallorca, the largest of the chain's four islands—the others being Minorca, Ibiza, and Formentera (known, respectively, for stone monoliths, stoned club-goers, and stone-faced German nudists). By contrast, Mallorca is a more middle-of-the-road vacation spot, with something for everyone, from outlet shopping and lazy beaches to brutal cycling routes and harrowing rock climbing. Whatever your pleasure, wine and fresh fish dinners bring everyone together at the end of every day.

This was my second year accompanying Nina and her family to Mallorca, who find the place pleasant but oddly familiar, since a significant portion of the island's residents and visitors are Germans like them. There are even German street signs, German doctors, German menus in restaurants, and German radio stations. (Suffice it to say I learned much more Deutsch than Español in the course of this trip.)

Surf's Up Portugal

Wednesday, March 8, 2017 | Odeceixe, Portugal (map)

Above the beach at Odeceixe, Maggie performs her favorite vacation pastime: coming right after me to stand in the same spot and take the same picture. (Lucky for me she doesn't have the same camera.)
It wouldn't be fair to Algeria to say that one of the prime advantages of living here is the proximity to Europe, but as an American in Algiers it's hard not to enjoy being a two-hour flight away from every major destination on the continent.

One weekend last summer, Nina and I took advantage of that fact by hopping up to Portugal to rendez-vous with my sister Maggie, who was passing through on a work trip.

After connecting in Lisbon, we drove south to the tiny beach town of Odeceixe, which was little more than a dozen homes and a restaurant clustered on a steep bluff over the Atlantic. Steady rollers drove endlessly toward the beach, and we spent most of our days there flailing in the froth, trying to catch waves amid encouragement from some local surf instructors. That and eating amazing fish dinners at the town's restaurant. (Sorry, I was too busy to get pictures of either!)

Odeceixe was a beautiful little corner of a country I have grown to love over the years, but we never would have found it without help from our Portuguese friends. Nina and I have met quite a few generous Portuguese expats here in Algiers these past years, and they gladly put their heads together and proposed a detailed menu of recommendations to help us plan our trip. (A huge "thank you" and "muitos obrigados" to Diogo, Tânia, Filipe, João, and all the others!)

Sardinia: Indulging in Italy's Wild Isle

Tuesday, February 14, 2017 | Sardinia, Italy (map)

With its Catalan influence, seafood dishes, and waterfront esplanade, Alghero, in Sardinia's northwest, is an exception to the island's rich but inward-facing tradition that long shunned the idyllic coasts.
There's a particular pleasure that comes, on a damp and dreary winter day, from burrowing into a pile of blankets and thumbing through vacation photos, remembering the warmer months. (But enough about American politics, let's talk about travel...)

While hailstones pelt down outside, I'm inside reminiscing, reviewing shots from a week-long roadtrip Nina and I took through Sardinia last summer. Take that, Mother Nature.

That week in early July, other friends in Algiers were heading to Greece or southern France or the Spanish coast. But in a quest to explore new destinations rather than revisit old favorites, Nina and I had scoured the internet for flight deals, adventure tours, and outdoor options that would take us somewhere wild and unfamiliar.

On those fronts and every other, Sardinia did not disappoint.

Ibn Ibn Battuta's 2016 in Review

Saturday, December 31, 2016 | Algiers, Algeria (map)

Cranking some film on vacation in Sardinia, 2016. (Photo by Nina.)
In my personal life as in the wider world, 2016 was a year that demanded reflection and reevaluation of many once-firm truths. The third of a trio of year-end posts:

(Read the first here: "Who Am I? Confessions of a Global Citizen" and the second here: "The Year of Throwing Bricks: A Globalist's View of 2016, and the Way Forward")

It would be hard to classify the wider world's 2016 as anything other than an annus horribilis, but this blog—and my creative projects in general—certainly enjoyed many bright moments during the past year.

More than anything, this was the year I gained new appreciation for video as a medium for story-telling. It all started with a friend's suggestion to submit a few photos to Khalf Essoura (meaning "Behind the Image" in Arabic). This program's short clips feature local photographers describing their favorite images; one clip airs each night on Algeria's state-run ENTV, just before the prime-time national newscast. Back in the spring, at a cramped studio in downtown Algiers I recorded descriptions of four of my favorite Rolleicord shots from Algeria. Two of these were broadcast in the following months:

The Year of Throwing Bricks: A Globalist's View of 2016, and the Way Forward

Friday, December 30, 2016

Mark Abramson's double exposures from the campaign trail epitomized 2016's dystopian spirit.   (Source: Wired)
In my personal life as in the wider world, 2016 was a year that demanded reflection and reevaluation of many once-firm truths. The second of a trio of year-end posts:

(Read the first here: "Who Am I? Confessions of a Global Citizen")


Many people are born at the wrong time. Picture a woman with the mind of a brilliant particle physicist, forced to labor as a peasant in the Middle Ages, or a man as strong as Rome's greatest gladiators, slouched behind a guard's desk at a modern-day office park.

In contrast, I consider myself among the lucky few in history to be born in an era when I can flourish. Coming of age at the cusp of the 21st century, the great age of globalization, I am tech savvy, multi-lingual, curious about other peoples and cultures, and eager to travel. I have constructed my globalist identity just as humanity has rapidly grown more interconnected than ever before.

Consequently, as I have emerged as a cosmopolitan "citizen of the world," I have enjoyed the feeling that I am swimming with the current—that I have the right skillset and mindset to thrive in precisely this historical moment. I also continually see more globalists emerging all around me; whether by push or pull, globalization seems to swell our numbers more with each passing year. Sure, I told myself, there's still plenty of people who aren't so interested in embracing the fast-arriving globalized future—and even some who are downright hostile to it—but overall our side is winning.

Then came 2016.

Who Am I? Confessions of a Global Citizen

Thursday, December 29, 2016

In my personal life as in the wider world, 2016 was a year that demanded reflection and reevaluation of many once-firm truths. The first of a trio of year-end posts:

Over the years, as I have matured, enjoyed successes and overcome setbacks, encountered moments of self-doubt and self-discovery, read and traveled widely, reflected and questioned my values and beliefs, an identity has emerged and begun to solidify.

I couldn't yet explain it while I was building it. Not back in my childhood in Baltimore, when I listened, rapt, to my uncles' and grandparents' stories of travels in Albania, Japan, Saudi Arabia. Not in high school, when I spent hours scouring the internet for obscure Algerian raï hits (long before I ever dreamed of actually moving to Algeria). And not yet even at Georgetown, when I plunged into studying Arabic, Portuguese, and Swahili and became travel-obsessed.

It took me until 2016, année de merde, to finally find the words:

Everyone's identity is an amalgam of different layers and characteristics, many of them hinging on gender, race, religion, nationality, political affiliation, class, income, place of origin, sexual orientation, education, etc. But the personal identity that has come into focus for me has not coalesced primarily around any of these traditional categories.