Summer Postcard
Located in the southern part of the city, the Russian Market is a popular site for not only tourists but also local expatriates and Cambodians. The name of the market itself refers to its popularity among the Russian expatriates who lived in the city in the 1980s. The Market is structured with little booths where citizens sell a wide range of hand-made products, such as sarongs, teacups, and Buddhist statues. In one part, there is also a fruit and vegetable market, as pictured above.
Snapshots of Phnom Penh: Delights and Horrors
Crimson photographer Sharon Kim '12 travels through Cambodia's capital, Phnom Penh, noting the delights of the Russian market and the horrors of the legacy of Khmer Rouge.
POSTCARD: Mourning Venice
What will happen now that Venice is a city that lives by parodying itself? Can it survive as a viable, living city?
POSTCARD: (Scatological) Crimes and Misdemeanors
On 79th street, opposite New York City Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg’s townhouse, over 50 people stood chanting behind a police line: “The blood; the blood; the blood is on your hands!” The blood they lamented was that of geese.
POSTCARD: Stuck in the Middle
Returning on a Sunday night from a weekend trip to Switzerland, I got into my apartment building’s tiny, old-fashioned elevator and everything seemed to be going fine. Famous last words.
An old man tunes a grand piano placed on a small boat sitting on the waters cutting through the Venetian Ghetto. The Ghetto is a beautiful part of Venice that serves as the center of Jewish life, characterized by multiple synagogues, kosher restaurants, and Judaica shops. The community exists in a peaceful and quiet atmosphere as people can walk alongside the water, observing the ancient buildings as well as the people who currently live there.
POSTCARD: Uncommon Grit
It’s one thing to read the daily reports of Michigan’s death spiral in the New York papers; it’s another to see it firsthand.
POSTCARD: What We Want
Baseball is a game of regret. No one knows this more than the European baseball player.
POSTCARD: Valley of the Ashes
Nevertheless, the question still remains: how, in a nation so conscious of its past, can Drancy be allowed to be what it is today, a home as any other?
POSTCARD: The Best Thing Ever
In that spirit, I decided that damn it, I was going to enjoy our excursion to Walden Pond.
POSTCARD: It Takes a Village
It’s an interesting idea, representing the essence of a culture through the books on your shelves
POSTCARD: Priestly Lessons
I’d been dreaming of swimming through a vast black sea, and in the morning my bed was an island.
POSTCARD: Drill, Baby, Drill
But in fairness, I’m not just a victim of circumstance. I drink coffee, tea, Diet Coke—anything that doesn’t dissolve the glass it’s served in. I’ll remember to floss when it’s required by law.
POSTCARD: To the Anti-Burqa Taxi Driver
It seems as though it isn’t the “subjugation” of these burqa-wearing women that you really care about—it’s their difference, their “otherness.”
POSTCARD: A History Lesson
The more I learn about Chile, the more I see that it is in many ways trapped by its past, and that history can function as a barrier to progress.
POSTCARD: Don't Tear it Down
In the interest of preserving a special part of China’s heritage, the government should set aside areas as protected for historical purposes and make sure that they stay as they were.
POSTCARD: A Love Letter To the Women in the Ladies Car
Riding the train in Mumbai is what expats call “an experience.”
POSTCARD: Beyond the Language Barrier
Then the dietician drops the second-most common question I am asked in South Africa: “So, what’s different about our country compared to yours?”
POSTCARD: Living and Dying with Boston’s Neighborhood Newspapers
Community newspaper obituaries are the pinnacle of doom in modern society—the most doomed section of the most doomed newspapers in an industry that seems summarily doomed.
POSTCARD: Forever Young
To be sure, people in their late twenties to early thirties are far from elderly, but in my myopic, adolescent outlook on life these young professionals can no longer be considered young.