Tonanzintla, Mexico -- Here in the lovely Mexican village of Tonanzintla, my friend Elizabeth has a stunning, active volcano almost in her backyard. Corn and alfalfa fields spread out directly behind the house, but the volcano lurks on the horizon, keeping a watchful eye on us—and vice versa.

As it turns out, the “evacuation zone” is a truly lovely place to be. And, Elizabeth assures me that, if the volcano has a bad day—the delivery service screws up its shipment of sacrificial virgins—an “excellent evacuation system is in place.” 

Mexico City, Mexico -- When I arrived in Mexico, my phone adapted far more quickly than I did. In fact, it acclimatized itself so well to its new environs that it suddenly refused to speak to me in English. The rich, familiar cadences of James Earl Jones vanished. Cindy, my snippy, snotty U.S. Voicemail Lady, was AWOL.

Portland, OR -- When John Doyle of No Fish, Go Fish in Portland, Oregon (SW 5th and Yamhill) takes your order, he's gonna offer you samples. So will Chef Dwayne Sutton of The Gourmet Shack (SW 5th Avenue between Oak and Stark). In fact, if you're lucky, maybe Chef Dwayne will give you a whole damn delicious bottle of his Ghetto Gourmet barbecue sauce. When was the last time that happened at Burger King? Huh? Or McDonald's? Or Arby's? Or Applebee's? Exactly. It never has. It never will.

Faraway Worlds -- I grew up with a fierce, unmet jones for travel. Trapped in a tiny town, I gorged myself on old National Geographics. Each bumble-bee hued issue held a kaleidoscope of possibilities. Jewel-toned snaps of faraway worlds swirled before me. Words? Articles? Who needed ‘em? The photos were rich enough fuel to speed me to jungles, through caves, to the moon. I read the odd caption to help me add texture to my dreams. “Young peasant girl pauses by field in Ecuador?” Are you sure? Look again. “Kim rests by field in Ecuador after rescuing village from raiders.”