It was a perfect summer day at the Dachau concentration camp. The clear skies and pleasant breeze seemed almost offensive. And there, beneath the main monument, a bronze sculpture of writhing bodies intermeshed with barbed wire, was an uncommon sight: a group of Muslim leaders prostrate in prayer.50
They flocked to Washington during the summer months, driven by their desire to get a taste of politics and maybe gain some points in the networking game after they graduate college.
Like many 21-year-old travelers, I had no plan. No money. And no real assurance that I was even going to be picked up from the airport on a late rainy evening in Central America’s most notoriously dangerous city. Because I also knew no one.26
It’s rare for an American to set foot in Dimona. With an unemployment rate of 14.5%, almost double the national average, Dimona is one of Israel’s poorest cities. Tourist attractions are nonexistent, and if non-Israelis have heard of the city, it’s because of its nuclear reactor.
A 78-year-old Atlanta woman who has been living in the United States for nearly a decade is mulling a return to her native Kazakhstan — now that her access to a benefits program on which she and thousands of other indigent refugees rely is slated to expire.
This article has been sent!Close