Word: bulletproofing
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...small towns. "Frankly, we're too afraid to go out at night," says Waehamad Ismail, a farmer who lives on the edge of Sungai Padi. The police are even more nervous. To calm his officers, National Police Chief Sant Saturanond headed south last week to hand out 1,500 bulletproof vests. And if Kevlar doesn't work, maybe magic will. The chief brought along a revered Buddhist monk to distribute sacred, protective amulets...
...crane operator lifts a 30-ft. concrete partition and slots it into a long row of identical slabs. Like the other Israelis laboring along this two-mile strip of wall, he wears not only a hard hat but a bulletproof vest as well. Fewer than 100 yds. away are the outskirts of Qalqilya, a Palestinian town. For the militants among Qalqilya's 25,000 people, the workers must seem an attractive target for sniping. So too will the thousands of Israelis who will pass by on this stretch of the Trans-Israel Highway, which, when it opens...
...Punjab province, is a humming mill town, and illegal immigrants are always turning up there in search of work. But shortly after midnight, some unexpected visitors came striding into Hussain's colonial-era office. They were members of Pakistani military intelligence, accompanied by American CIA and FBI personnel wearing bulletproof vests. This was hardly routine...
...Punjab province, is a humming mill town, and illegal immigrants are always turning up there in search of work. But shortly after midnight, some unexpected visitors came striding into Hussain's colonial-era office. They were members of Pakistani military intelligence, accompanied by American CIA and FBI personnel wearing bulletproof vests. This was hardly routine...
...also dangerous work. Eight journalists have died in Afghanistan since September. A total of 37 were killed last year, 24 the year before. Journalists are sometimes naive about their own safety, prone to an illusion that they are either bulletproof or invisible. In the mid-'60s, I walked blithely through the mobs during a riot in Harlem, with Molotov cocktails sailing off the roofs of apartment houses. I imagined that as a journalist, I was merely an invisible witness, as harmless as a recording secretary, as if I had letters of transit allowing me to pass between cops and rioters...