Word: courtyard
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...move. It was disgusting. You had to push through sweaty, nasty bodies to get anywhere. There were people dancing on the food-checker line. It was out of control in a bad way. People got physically hurt.” In addition, alcohol served in the House courtyard intoxicated partygoers who then clogged bathroom sinks with vomit. “You couldn’t wash your hands. It was just ridiculous,” Dow remembers...
Dzongs are found across Bhutan. Huge fortress-like structures that combine the administrative center and principal monastery of each region, they embody the national marriage of Buddhism and politics. Non-Buddhists will find a peek into the courtyard is often all they are allowed: at Wangdue Phodrang, a village in central Bhutan, we were deterred from entering by stories of the regional administrator's fondness for whipping. In Paro, however, some high-ranking officials were happy to guide us around their temple. Inside, a sweet fog of cypress incense fought with the stench of butter lamps, which threw out flickering...
...chilly night three autumns ago, a young woman in her 20s walked past the chickens scratching in Granny He's courtyard and knocked on her red wooden door. The caller had done her research: she knew Granny He was Christian and that her husband, a teacher, spent time away. They talked about God for two hours that evening, and for longer on subsequent nights. Then the visitor arranged for a rare luxury?a car to drive Granny He to worship in someone's home. There, she and seven other believers sat facing the preacher. He said the Jesus...
When not in use, Marah’s motorcycle rests undisturbed in the Quincy courtyard. She does not worry about theft because it has an ignition and it’s not a Harley, which typically goes for fifteen or twenty thousand dollars. “My Suzuki just doesn’t have the same prestige in the bike world. Harleys are special. They have a specific attitude,” she says...
...from inside Afghanistan. On a narrow stretcher in the back of the ambulance lies an Afghan, Hekmatullah, 22, gasping with pain at every bump. He had the awful luck to be living not more than 200 yards from a Taliban ammunition dump near Kandahar. Hekmatullah was sleeping in his courtyard the night when American bombs struck. The ammo depot erupted like a volcano, spewing bullets and rockets everywhere...