tagged w/ expats
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Earlier this week I published a controversial article about the nature of patriotism. In the article, I suggested that when you find yourself increasingly isolated from your country's declining values, it's probably time to pack up and head somewhere else.
Many people found this idea to be cowardly and weak. Obviously I believe the opposite to be true. One of the most difficult things you could ever do is pack up your life, leave everything familiar, and head to a new world full of uncertainty.
Just about everyone reading this had ancestors who did just that. These were not cowards, they were pioneers; they were trading tyranny for opportunity, heading to a land full of bright prospects where they could carve out a life accountable for their own successes and failures.Earlier this week I published a controversial article about the nature of patriotism.... more
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A version of this piece originally appeared on Geraint Isitt's Open Salon blog(http://open.salon.com/blog/gji_penguin/2010/08/09/the_night_i_could_have_bought_a_wife).
"She wants you to take her home."
Five weeks and one party after arriving in Saudi Arabia, I began to think it might not be such a bad place to get laid. I had come to the country to help write policies and procedures for a hospital, and I expected to remain celibate during my time in the desert. It's not like I hadn’t gone five weeks before during my adult life. So this was an unexpected turn.
She walked toward us, every eye in the place fixed on her. She was what you would call exotically beautiful – tall, lean, skin so dark it was nearly blue, and deep brown eyes as soft as melted chocolate. With her wedge heels on she was taller than me. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail and when she smiled, showing her flawless white teeth, you swore all your troubles would melt away. If you were going to break a dry spell in Saudi Arabia, you could do far worse.
I had seen her earlier in the night. I think we all had. I was at this party on a Westernized compound with some coworkers, two ladies and their husbands who decided I had to experience my first party and try the homebrew and "Sid," a hard liquor based on the Arabic word for friend. Truth be told, I didn’t see much of those friends once we arrived. I’m a people person, and I was also a newcomer -- expatriates here seem to know when a newcomer is in their midst.
She stood between Larry and I, and Larry put his arm around her waist. Larry was American, although he had been in Saudi "since Reagan" (that was how he put it). In his mid-60s now, he was married to a Somali woman, his fifth marriage to a foreigner (again, how he put it) and the girl standing between us was his wife’s daughter from a previous marriage.
"Beautiful, isn’t she?" he asked.
She smiled when he said it, although his comment didn't need any more emphasis.
"She is. Very." I swallowed back some of the awful homebrew and continued looking away from them both. The conversation had grown awkward.
She left Larry and I alone and went to talk with some friends. Larry wasted no time getting down to business.
"It’s 500 for the week, or 1600 for the month."
"Excuse me?" I knew what he was saying, but didn’t want to believe it.
"500 riyals a week or 1600 a month for her services as a wife. I know people who can do marriage certificates if you want to be seen with her in public without worry." He winked. "The price covers everything a wife is supposed to do for her husband, and some things most Christian women won’t." He let out a laugh that Lucifer himself would have been proud of. "She’s clean, which can’t be said for a lot of the girls in this place."
"You want me to buy your daughter?" I looked over at her and back to him.
"Buy, rent, lease, whatever you want to call it. Hell, call it a college fund she’ll never use to go to college if it helps you sleep better."
"When do I pay the girl, out of curiosity? Before or after?"
"You pay me, before, for the length of time you want her."
I don’t know if Larry was her step-dad or not, or just some wealthy expatriate looking to get wealthier in the sex-trade market, but he and I didn’t strike up a deal that night. Or any night. Hell, I don’t even know if he told me his real name -- which isn't Larry, by the way. (I changed his name for this piece.) What I did know was that I wasn’t about to buy myself a slave, because let’s be honest here, that’s what this was akin to. How much of the money went to her? I’m guessing none. Sure, for the time she would be with me I’d feed her and house her, but, according to Larry, my every whim and fantasy would be catered for as well as all my housework.
I used the excuse that I didn’t live on a compound and lived in the community as a get-out-of-jail free card. I didn't want to offend him or his so-called sensibilities. I knew that Saudi, like any other country, would have a seedy underbelly -- I just thought it would take longer to find it.A version of this piece originally appeared on Geraint Isitt's Open Salon... more
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Check out my latest interview at Eden Fantasys, where I discuss writing, blogging, Mitzi TV, erotica, my new book "In Sleeping Beauty’s Bed: Erotic Fairy Tales", the publishing business and, of course, being a social media maven! There’s even some advice for aspiring writers.
http://mitziszereto.com/blog/interview-with-mitzi-szereto/Check out my latest interview at Eden Fantasys, where I discuss writing, blogging,... more
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You may never be able to go home again, but for over 50 years, 'The Ukranian Hour' has been the voice from home of Philadelphia's Ukranian population. The gravelly baritone of Leo Iwaskiw guides his substantial audience on a journey through news items, tales, and highlights of culture all hailing from the Ukraine; along the way, he freshens the reservoir of memories—both upbeat and sorrowful—that bring wistful gazes to the eyes of his loyal listeners. Produced by Yurij Nakonechnyj, 'The Ukranian Hour' is broadcast each Saturday at noon on 1540 AM with a powerful signal echoing from Atlantic City to North Jersey to Williamstown, PA and beyond. Iwaskiw's and Nakonechnyj's recording studio is actually a library in the Ukranian League (in the Fairmount section of Philadelphia); it is cluttered with irreplaceable books saved from collections of families of the Ukraine, and redistributed by Iwaskiw and the Ukranian League to colleges and universities in the United States for preservation and scholarship.You may never be able to go home again, but for over 50 years, 'The Ukranian... more
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One out of every four ballots requested by military personnel and expat Americans for the 2008 US election may have gone uncounted. Democracy at its best, no?
The Senate Rules and Administration Committee, working with the Congressional Research Service, surveyed election offices in seven states and found that of 441,000 absentee ballots requested by eligible voters living abroad more than 98,000 were "lost" ballots that were mailed out but never received by election officials. Taking into account 13,500 ballots that were rejected for such reasons as a missing signature or failure to notarise, one-quarter of those requesting a ballot were disenfranchised. The study found that an additional 11,000 ballots were returned as undeliverable.
Because a person living abroad must request the absentee ballot and show a clear intention to vote, voter negligence - surprise, surprise! - is not thought to be a major factor.
Instead, there is a chronic problem of voters being sent a ballot without sufficient time to complete it and send it back. It's estimated that a ballot can take up to 13 days to reach an overseas voter.
I'm an expat who voted by absentee ballot in 2008. The thought that my vote - and so many others - might not have been counted is incredibly disappointing. Had the election been a close call as it was with Bush and Gore in 2000, these 'lost' votes could have made all the difference!One out of every four ballots requested by military personnel and expat Americans for... more
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