Word: taxy
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...needn't stand in the block-long queues for illuminating movie chat. You could simply flag a cab. One Toronto taxi driver-we'll call him Mohsen-launched into a passionate lecture on the state of Iranian cinema, listing the names of Iranian directors who had new work on show. "Of course the master is Kiarostami," he said, as if that name would be as familiar to his passengers as Spielberg...
...three men hailing a taxi late last Wednesday near Sulaimaniyah, a city in northern Iraq close to the Iranian border, didn't look like locals. They wore long, dark beards, for one thing and, though it was past midnight, didn't know where they were going. They first told the driver to take them into the city, then changed their minds and asked to be driven to a secluded suburb. Then they pulled guns on the driver and forced him out. "Do not look back," one of the strangers said, before speeding off. In any other part of the world...
...gelatin sticks, 14 timing devices, wires and soldering equipment. As the authorities tell it, the Hanifs collaborated with a 26-year-old embroiderer, Arshat Ansari, to pull off the Aug. 25 bombings that killed 52 and injured 175 in Bombay. While Ansari allegedly placed his bomb in a taxi at Zaveri Bazaar, a crowded jewelry market, police say the Hanifs had packed explosives in the bag they stashed in the taxi's trunk, then detonated it at the Gateway. With their youngest daughter, Shakira, in tow, the Hanifs then walked through the panic-stricken crowds to safety. Although Hanif...
...This family outing was meticulously planned. Police say Hanif, Fahmida and Farheen had even made a trial run in the same taxi the previous day, with Ansari. They overlooked just one detail: while Ansari's driver was blown up along with his taxi at Zaveri Bazaar, the Hanifs' cabbie stepped out of his cab for a bite and so lived to provide the police with a sketch of a family that an informant would later identify as the Hanifs...
...foreign traveler, this is precisely the attraction. You haven't been preceded by backpacking squads of gap-year Europeans; there are no sari-clad Swiss ladies or gentle Australian retirees asking directions to the nearest Ayurvedic spa. As a result the touts and taxi drivers are smiling, open-faced na?fs by the rapacious standards of India's tourism hot spots, and the infrastructure is gratifyingly nonexistent. All you get is unmediated India. And an awful...