content marketer | multimedia journalist
The top of the hill was in sight. We’d already climbed one seaside peak, ungracefully slipping up the sandy trail, and we were rounding the second one when we saw the old hotel complex. I called out. “¿Hola, hay alguien por acá?” Is anyone there? From one of the cabins wandered a man, compact and spry, gray bristles written across his chest and arms. He smiled.
I’d like to introduce you to MUTA: a cross-disciplinary, multinational collective seeking to create a sense of place. Let’s unpack that.
As I see it, “Porteñísima” should be translated as powerhouse. It’s a Buenos Aires-based Spanish school, founded and led by two women who love one thing: language.
Roswitha and Francisco — better known as Ros and Pancho — met during a student protest at their university. It fits: This pair is still bucking convention and working toward new forms of education.
Let’s pretend for a moment that it’s 1984. So instead of being my 30th birthday, today my mom is thirty, flirty and pregnant. This is the letter I would give to her as someone with insight into her life.
When I worked as a reporter in California, a woman named Irmgard would frequently call the newsroom. “I’m one of the last Rosie the Riveters,” she’d say. “You know her? That one flexing her muscle. I’m one of those.” One day, after talking with Irmgard a couple of times over the phone, I agreed to go visit her house in rural Mountain Ranch. We needed a feature story, and she sounded so passionate. What was there to lose?
John and Sherine met four years ago, and it’s still up for debate who made the first move. They were introduced through friends but didn’t really get to know each other until a New Year’s Eve hotel party. Although they’d gone to the party separately, they ended up alone on a level with casual jazz music and easy conversation. Not the party they’d expected, but not too shabby either.
My grandmother Alice taught me how to travel.