Word: beading
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...city to returning evacuees last week, but only an estimated 60,000 people are spending the night in New Orleans these days, compared with about half a million before Katrina. The city that care forgot is in the throes of an identity crisis, torn between its shady, bead-tossing past and the sanitized Disneyland future some envision. With no clear direction on whether to raze or rebuild, the 300,000 residents who fled the region are frustrated--and increasingly indecisive--about returning. If they do come back, will there be jobs good enough to stay for? If they do rebuild...
...brushing aside hurdles like a lack of materials and the incredible difficulty of seamstressing along the way. Many, like Isabelle M. Berner ’08, began their experiments outside the ordinary fashion world by traveling abroad. Since she was seven, Berner spent her summers in France selling her beaded jewelry to passers-by. “I used to stand outside and sell, until I got older. Then I would put my younger, cuter cousins out,” she says. Although Berner quickly realized that she could no longer sell her jewelry based on her dimples alone, while...
...ruled at the time by a bizarre economic love triangle. Tourists shared the space equally with the homeless, drunk, and destitute, who entertained them to get by; meanwhile, dozens of missionaries in bright orange shirts roamed the streets, handing out hygiene packets to the homeless, and occasionally looking at bead-festooned tourists like they’d be happy to say a prayer for them...
...fighters, who pounded their location with rocket-propelled grenades, mortars and a steady hail of small-arms fire. The clatter of the approaching Chinook may or may not have been audible to the SEALs, but the Taliban surely heard it. A second band of fighters turned and took a bead on the chopper, probably with a rocket- propelled grenade, and in what a U.S. official calls "a pretty lucky shot," knocked...
...night at the Firstie Club, West Point's campus bar for seniors, and the cadets' dress code is college casual. For once, the shoes aren't shiny, nobody's wearing a hat with a plume. Instead, they're in flip-flops, board shorts or jeans, baseball hats or visors, bead necklaces purchased on spring break. But still they give themselves away at every turn. They're like undercover cops infiltrating a frat party. Their shoulders are a bit too square. They don't slouch. They plow efficiently through dishes of peanuts, eyes darting about the room, scanning for friends...