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JoinedMarch 12, 2020
Articles2
Sitting in my car at the stoplight on the intersection of Canal Street and Loyola Avenue in New Orleans, I observed the continued construction – or rather, deconstruction – of the Hard Rock Hotel that semi-collapsed a year ago right outside of the French Quarter. I shook my head, as...
I was 11 when my uncle Bhirty died. I have no real memory of him. He moved to France in 1986, part of the diaspora seeking a better life elsewhere. He became an artist, a painter. He never returned to Mauritius, until his body arrived in a lead coffin in...