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...sets across the rusting roofs of Stone Town, the cry of the local muezzin merges with the chimes from a Hindu temple and drifts skyward. The brilliant-hued canopy above me flaps lazily in the evening breeze that blows in from the Indian Ocean. I'm dining in the roofless rooftop restaurant of the Emerson & Green hotel on Zanzibar, the semi-autonomous island off Tanzania, one of the most romantic spots on the planet. Once the opulent palace of a wealthy Swahili trader, the hotel has just 10 rooms, but each one is exquisite: the North room features a large...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Heaven Is a Hotel | 2/22/2004 | See Source »

...sits the Abu Hanifa mosque, where Saddam Hussein was last seen in public before his arrest by U.S. forces. A large crowd of Iraqis mills outside it. Private First Class Jim Beverly, 19, and Private Orion Jenks, 22, stand in the bed of the convoy's second vehicle, a roofless high-back humvee, which resembles a large pickup truck and is generally used to transport troops. Also riding in the back are two TIME journalists. As the convoy begins moving again, Jenks and Beverly chat casually and laugh. Sergeant Ronald Buxton, who is riding shotgun...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Portrait Of A Platoon | 12/29/2003 | See Source »

...saddled up we plodded off into the vast, silent emptiness in search of clues to outback history, startling kangaroos and emus accustomed to having the arid landscape to themselves. Was that faint track across a low, stony hill merely made by wild goats? No, over the rise was a roofless, drystone miners' hut, still surrounded by a litter of schnapps bottles as undisturbed as the day they were drained and dropped. We left them there, in their context, for others to rediscover...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Outback by Camelback | 11/10/2002 | See Source »

...some point the crisis must pass. I’m hoping my father will be satiated by drives to the Cape with the puppy in the passenger seat of his roofless, doorless Jeep. If not, I fear for my mother’s sanity. Maybe I have years to go until my quarter-life crisis fades. Won’t things only get worse as a second semester senior when I will surely be without job or strategy? Will I be happy as a corporate bitch juggling children and a career? Will I regret it forever if I don?...

Author: By Elizabeth F. Maher, CRIMSON STAFF WRITER | Title: My Quarter-Life Crisis | 3/14/2002 | See Source »

...still darkness outside the compound, a handful of women and children shelter for the night beneath a stunted shade tree. They will be the first in line tomorrow. Others have made their way back to roofless, unkempt huts, abandoned during the fighting here, to wait out the long hours until another feeding day begins. Says UNICEF's Dr. Yeron: "I have been in the refugee camps during the Ethiopian famine, and I have never seen such a catastrophe as we have in Somalia." Still, he says, since dry rations became available here two weeks ago, the situation has improved. "Last...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Africa: A Day in the Death of Somalia | 9/21/1992 | See Source »

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