Word: heartlanders
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...Roots of Ambition Who is the man who tamed the Tigers? Above all, he represents Sri Lanka's Sinhalese Buddhist heartland in the rural south. His sarong and tunic are the spotless white of a devout Buddhist; his reddish brown scarf the color of korakan, a rough grain eaten as the staple diet of poor farmers. Everything about Rajapaksa - his big laugh, his rough-and-ready English, his bejeweled fingers and ink-black hair - marks him as part of the rural bourgeoisie, not the urban élite educated abroad. This is more than just an image. He was elected...
...called Efrat, Sharon Katz serves a neat plate of sliced cake inside her five-bedroom house, surrounded by pomegranate, olive and citrus trees that she planted herself. She glances out the window at the hills where, she believes, David and Abraham once walked. "We are living in the biblical heartland," she sighs...
...heartland the prophets would not recognize, replete as it is with pizza parlor, jazz nights at the coffee shop, grocery store and yellow electronic gate with machine-gun-wielding guards. Efrat is one of 17 settlements that make up a bloc called Gush Etzion, located not in Israel but in the occupied West Bank. The Katzes (Sharon, husband Israel and five children) consider themselves law-abiding citizens. They publish a small community magazine and take part in civic projects. Sharon raises money for charity by putting on tap-dancing and theater shows. And yet to much of the outside world...
...impressionable teenager in the heartland, I was transported to events in ways I could not have imagined, and it was then that I began to think, Maybe one day I can be a part of all that. Now, looking back, I am eternally grateful to the men (and they were all men) who produced the broadcasts for Huntley, Brinkley and Cronkite. They persuaded their entertainment-oriented bosses that network television was a powerful force in journalism that was not to be underestimated...
Dusky Belaga, pop. 25,300, could be any quaint town in the American heartland. As the sun creeps down, joggers maunder the quiet streets. Old men in wifebeaters gossip and smoke over slow cups of coffee in a café right next door to a licensed ammunition dealer, across the street from a well-kept park with a picket fence. A few kids shoot hoops nearby at a shabby basketball court whose bent rims possibly never even had nets. Somewhere in the direction of the town's lone evangelical church, a weed-whacker hums...