As I focus, the melody begins to crystalize and I realize what it is, the ezan, the Islamic call to prayer.


On Privilege: What The Big Island Taught Me

“Where are you from?” The woman in the food truck pushes two iced coffees toward us.

“Oregon,” I say.

“But my mom lives here,” Kelly added. “We’re just visiting.”

I add cane sugar to my coffee and stir. I notice that the ice cubes are made out of coffee and shaped like stars. I take a sip and the sugar is grainy. I feel it crunch between my teeth.