Katrina Woznicki

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Tag: Cuba

Me and Josue Finding Santeria

Posted on May 12, 2017May 12, 2017 by katrina

A week ago today, just a few hours before I had to return to Jose Marti International Airport, I stepped into the backseat of a bicycle taxi driven by a twenty-something named Josue. I had no idea who he was, that he had a five-year-old daughter with big, brown beautiful eyes, that he struggled with…

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I Suck At Packing (and Blogging)

Posted on April 23, 2017April 23, 2017 by katrina

I have visited about 15 countries, which is quite a bit more than most Americans and paltry compared with the travel writers I follow on Instagram, like JetSetSarah, truly one of the funniest, most upbeat women I’ve ever met on the road, and Where’s Andrew, who somehow combines intrepid with mellow (and the two know…

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20 Years Later

Posted on August 24, 2016August 25, 2016 by katrina

On Sunday, I sat on a plane that flew from Los Angeles to Newark. Flying always shocks me. It’s the take off, really. No matter how many times I do it, I still sit there, strapped down, picturing the pilot moving the throttle. Nose up, wheels up, wings up, and suddenly we’re at some unnatural…

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On Privilege and Travel

Posted on August 2, 2016November 29, 2016 by katrina

This year, I had the privilege to travel to some fancy places where people live well. I live well now, but I didn’t grow up with money, and when you cross classes, when you weren’t born into the world you currently live in or the ones you occasionally visit, you feel that gulf more acutely….

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I Stink At Blogging

Posted on June 22, 2016June 23, 2016 by katrina

It’s June 22, and I just realized that my last blog post was two months ago. Unless you’re a famous author like George R.R. Martin and know that you can blog whenever you feel like it, and hundreds or thousands of people will still read you, blogging is supposed to be more of a regular…

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OFFASSIGNMENT: 6:32 A.M. AT BOUDHANATH STUPA in Kathmandu is a rapid current of silence and hope, a clockwise ritual that welcomes me without question. I can come. I can go. I can pray. I can walk and pretend to pray. It is the hour of the observant, of chants and prostrations, of prayer and potential... continue reading

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