Word: turkish
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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Ciller said that while the Turkish political establishment expected her to make frequent compromises during her tenure, she defied its stereotypes...
...precisely balance your demand for investment and consumption. Says Christos Cotsakos, CEO of online brokerage group E*Trade: "The wired household is the ultimate bank." Your checking deposits, for instance, might be programmed to scour an electronic Web looking for interest-bearing investments overnight while you sleep. If a Turkish real estate developer needs to use the money for a few hours while you doze (and is willing to pay you for the privilege), your wealth account will be smart enough to decide if that's a risk you'd be willing to take in exchange for the reward...
...came from the depressed depths of small-town Polish-Jewish life, which he left behind in 1906. Inspired by a Hebrew-Zionist upbringing, shocked by anti-Semitic pogroms in Eastern Europe, he went to Turkish Palestine "to build it and be rebuilt by it," as was the motto of those days. He became a pioneer, a farmhand, active with early Zionist-socialist groups. At age 19 he was what he would remain all his life: a secular Jewish nationalist who combined Jewish Messianic visions with socialist ideals, a man with fierce ambition for leadership, extraordinary tactical-political skills...
...puff on water pipes, while backgammon counters slap, slap in the background. An old mural shows a young Saddam smiling; next to it a photo mural depicts an older, grimmer leader. There is nothing to eat here at the cafe except some custard puddings and a pile of Turkish delight. Holes near the roof line are filled in with little cardboard squares. The windows are half covered in tattered plastic. The men say they are resigned to more bombs destroying their city. "I cannot change it," says a 65-year-old backgammon player as his friends nod agreement...
...shooting," says Qerim Krasniqi, 51, the blond, thick-set eldest son of Abdyl and father of the wounded child. "A girl was screaming, and I went out and saw my son lying on the ground. I grabbed him by the belt, and beneath him there was blood everywhere." Sipping Turkish coffee, Qerim glances at his wizened father. The crackling fire in a small cast-iron stove fills the silence as the Krasniqi men, sitting on cushions around the edge of the dark, bare room, consider the violence that followed...