Word: hut
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...Karachi the police should have searched. The garden was owned by a local businessman, Saud Memon, who was a well-known jihadi with ties to al-Rasheed Trust. This charity was a major backer of the Taliban, and after the regime's collapse, police say, Memon used the garden hut to shelter Taliban and al-Qaeda fugitives. Karim told police that on the day of Pearl's killing, either Jan. 29 or Jan. 30, Karim's boss Memon escorted al-Qaeda's Mohammed along with the two other killers to Pearl's cell, their long blades and video camera...
...There have been other additions. The Sanctuary has grown from a single hut into a full-fledged retreat that includes a dormi-tory, bungalows and a spa, as well as yoga and meditation halls perched on a rocky hill overlooking the beach. For guests who prefer privacy and domestic amenities, there are several hillside homes with bathtubs, kitchens and decks over-looking the Gulf of Thailand...
Paradise is a dangerous place. And Bali's brand of paradise, even before the October nightclub bombings that killed 191 people, has long been a thin, seductive facade. When you're given everything you think you want?blue skies, a hut on the beach, a bag of happy pills, a hardbody to have your way with?there's little to keep your more destructive yearnings and frailties from consuming your life. Jamie James' first novel, Andrew and Joey: A Tale of Bali, paints a vivid portrait of the island in its prelapsarian state?and shows how sour things can turn...
...thousand miles away, Hasan is sitting on a stained mattress in a wooden hut in the compound of his orphanage near the Javanese city of Bandung. He rages against the United Nations High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR), whose members have been working with parents to locate their offspring and arrange for their return home. Hasan says the children in his charge are now part of his family, and that UNHCR officials "have been lying about me for too long. If the UNHCR comes here, I'll hit them myself," he vows over and over, as he chain-smokes clove cigarettes...
Flying in a seaplane up the east coast of Vancouver Island in British Columbia you see little but forested hills, a myriad of islands and the blue waters of the narrow channel that runs from Seattle to the Alaska Panhandle. As the plane drops over a ridge, a floating hut appears, anchored in the channel and nestled in a grid of net-covered pens. It all looks innocuous enough--no smoking chimneys, no visible plumes of discharge, no growling of chainsaws, not even a road...