I spent about a week in a few Italian cities, unfortunately, my luggage was lost, so I was without my camera for most of the trip. I flew in and out from Rome, was based in Florence and made day trips to Pisa, Sienna and Venice.
Here are some photos I took from Venice, in addition to others pilfered to fill in the gaps.
By Christopher Wink | August 29, 2005 | Travel Reflection
Africa was not real to me. It was imaginary; I saw a place where elephants roam and people starve. I saw children with flies around their faces in villages and huts and tribes. I saw in stereotypes and misunderstandings and prejudices and lies. That was all before I arrived at the Kotoka International Airport in Accra, Ghana.
I gave two months of my teenage life to West Africa, and I was given in return a lifetime of awareness and understanding. I studied in a classroom at the University of Ghana, but Ayi Kwei Armah and Abu Abarry didn’t teach me nearly as much as the cab rides and post offices and market women did. Reading about West African culture in my overpriced course packet never satisfied my hunger as well as freshly pounded banku and groundnut soup did. I played basketball with Octung and Salam to hear them speak in proverbs. I laughed with Tonko and met too many Kwesis to remember.
By Christopher Wink | May 25, 2006 | Travel Reflection
I have proudly represented Temple University on service immersion trips before. I have had South Dakotan ground beneath my feet before, too. Moreover, I have been with Jason Riley in a rental car and with John Dimino on an airplane before. Still, it is easy to understand that some experiences, no matter the similarities, can never be fully replicated.
Our group of ten administrators and students flew into Rapid City, South Dakota in May 2006, destined to work on the Rosebud Reservation of the Lakota Nation. While nearing the airport from above, below me South Dakota appeared wrinkled and aged. As we further approached, her features took form: trees that survived passed generations of agricultural clearing and beef cattle that survived passed days of agricultural slaughter.
This region of Dakota’s limitless expansion is only interrupted by flurries of elevation change. Once on ground, the pavement of interstate 90 appeared to have tamed the land into a consumable table of gentle slopes and caressing ridges. All of which leads me to offer muddled explanations of the region’s geographical features: endless plains with small, yet punctuated elevation changes interjected regularly.