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Learning on the job in Oran, Algeria
Squeezed between rich and poor in Turkey My tour complete, I sat in a shelter waiting for a bus that would take me home. Soon, two elderly women joined me. One of the women asked, Where do you live? I said I lived in Bebek. Ah, Bebek, the woman said knowingly, her words falling like a black shutter. I felt like saying I dont even have a tablecloth; we just live there. But I stopped myself. [FULL TEXT]
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Ms. X told me bluntly that she would never have considered even coming near the consulate, which represented everything she despised about America (this is the 1960s, remember), but she needed something badly. She had accompanied her Algerian boyfriend to Oran and they now had two small children. Everything was on hand for their civil marriage except an American certificate that she was not already married. It was for that paper alone that she had broken her vow never to deal with people like me, this said with deep feeling, and she wanted it right now. [
