Kinloch, Missouri, was once a thriving African American community, but after years of poverty and corruption it's in danger of turning into a ghost town.
Playing Ludo and cooking coke in the Colombian town of San Agustín.
During the so-called "Secret War," the US dropped more than 2 million tons of ordnance on Laos—that's the equivalent to a planeload of bombs every eight minutes, 24 hours a day, for nine years.
A Vipassana is a silent prison that you enter of your own free will. You can't talk, read, use your phone, or masturbate, until you've finished ten days of meditating for ten hours each day.
Tham Krabok, Thailand's monastic equivalent to the Betty Ford Clinic, helps people overcome their addictions by living like monks and drinking a "cleansing" brown liquid that makes them vomit excessively each day.
These are the kind of charming places where a half-naked woman walks around with a pint glass for you to drop pound coins in.
Marc Pointud will spend two months in the infamous Tévennec lighthouse—a place marred by legends of death, insanity, and ghosts.
Lifting up giant piles of dirt with a massive metal bucket makes you feel like God in a hi-vis jacket.
The town may have only housed around 35 permanent residents, but it skewed pretty heavily toward neo-Nazis and extremists who are mostly members of the far-right NPD political party.
Working nightshifts in a Barcelona hostel is a parallel universe of drugs, booze, and horny teenage tourists with second-degree sunburns.
Unlike most of the country, South Australia has enjoyed decriminalisation since 1987. We hung out with some growers to see what that means for them.
I traveled up to Alberta to meet both spirits that reside in this one extremely successful man.
VICE Japan talked to Masaya Kudo, a Japanese right-wing activist, about his philosophies and concerns about the movement's ties to organized crime.
"I missed the world in general. Seeing things move, seeing cars, dogs, the sun."
Though the Nigerian military has won victories against the notoriously violent militants, refugees displaced by the violence are still struggling to repair their lives.
In post-communist Romania, grilling in the middle of nowhere means you can afford the gas, prime meat, and time to do it.
Every year, devotees of Jesús Malverde gather in Culiacán to parade a bust of the Robin Hood–esque figure through town and honor him with gifts of cigarettes and whiskey.
Every Tuesday, the people of Titu meet up to show off their horses and terrorize them a little.
This week we investigate Bangladesh's black market for human organs and the rise of homophobia in Uganda.
Every day, hundreds of disgruntled defendants, overworked lawyers, and indifferent cops and judges flow through the 17-floor concrete beast that squats in lower Manhattan. On one day in April, I was there to see it all.
The group fought against the Ukrainian Army until their commander was thrown in jail in November by the Donetsk People's Republic, the Russian-aligned government he was fighting alongside.
It was some of the easiest money I'd ever made—all I had to do was dodge the hands of my drunken, amorous clients.
In Uganda, only 19 percent of the population has access to toilets that are not shared and that protect them from direct contact with waste—conditions which poses a serious threat to women's health and safety.
For more than a century, the Maasai have been corralled into smaller and smaller pieces of land in order to conserve the environment and precious animals—and to make room for deluxe suites and armies of tourists.