bout de papier, Volume 19, Issue No. 1, 2002
A Career in International Photography
MY POSTINGS THROUGH GLOBAL AFFAIRS have been a wonderful experience. My husband, James Trottier, was a diplomat. And for me, living abroad meant being able to continue to do my freelance photography and journalism.
Casa Canada Cuba
ON A HUMID HAVANA NIGHT in the not-so-distant future, the sounds of a Cuban pianist rise into the summer air, paired with the smooth vocals of a Canadian jazz singer, before an intimate crowd at Casa Canada Cuba. The walls of the…
Diplomat, Dissident, Spook
WRITING IN THE TORONTO STAR many years ago, James Eayrs, the then-celebrated University of Toronto political scientist, described the induction ritual for newly minted Foreign Service Officers with his usual provocative flourish. Probationary officers, he wrote, were led to a chamber in…
Whose Man In Havana?
Note de la redaction : Dans son livre Whi professionel et credible, et sur le réle de ce a cœur. Shauna Hemingway a rencontre lai generation d’agents du service extérieur.
Un voyage photographique à bord du légendaire train Hershey
Michel Têtu
Whose Man in Havana? Adventures from the Far Side of Diplomacy
At the suggestion of bout, I have selected excerpts from three chapters in my book of memoirs Whose Man in Havana: Adventures from the Far Side of Diplomacy to be published by Penumbra Press in 2013. The book ranges through Latin America,…
Bill Warden
The aged Warden VW camper was full of kids and assorted pets when it was overtaken by a police cruiser. Bill stopped, opened his window and the policeman said “Did you know that you were travelling at 100 km per hour in…
Dwight Fulford
From the start it was unlikely that Dwight would have a colourless or even conventional life. The environment in which he was born nudged him in other directions. Largely the creation of his paternal grandfather, George Taylor Fulford, the hugely successful manufacturer…
Life in a Gilded Cage
It was late spring in Havana in 1969 when there was a knock on our door. There stood a short, elderly grey-haired gentleman whom we recognized after a moment as the doorman from the hotel we had stayed in some months earlier…
