Jewish Celebrities in Myanmar

Day 5 in Myanmar. I have grown weary from the diet of yak meat and chicken guts. The sun scalds during the day but darkness quickly purges all warmth, leaving us huddled beneath a mountain of blankets and sleeping bags. Hotel rooms, devoid of heating, seem to trap in the cold rather than repel it; nighttime cuddling suddenly ceases to be gender discriminate. After a particularly unproductive conversation with a hotel employee given the enormous language barrier, I wander alone

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Barbed wire, Darkness, and the Streets of Myanmar

What defines my past travels are memories of the grandiose. Remarkable friends, once in a lifetime adventures, close calls, “I’m never telling my mom about that” ones. Yet the actual day to day moments of traveling are defined by the minute details —the smells, the sounds, the heat and sweat, and jet lag. And as I disembark from my flight, navigating the Yangon airport and later, the hodgepodge streets, it is those details I notice first. The way the air

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Couldn’t Stay Away

It’s surreal when a dream becomes a reality. And not in a corny, awestruck, just met Justin Bieber kind of way. Surreal in the sense that when I dreamt about returning to Israel – the friends, the family, the steaming shawarma after a night out, I was living in a fantasy; now I’m confronted with reality. I fantasized for so long about returning that I feared it might not live up to my expectations. It’s my nature to live in

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