I have a story to tell you...
Back in Sana'a after a couple of weeks away. Before coming home, there's the familiar routine... "Did you call the maid?" "Have you told the driver to pick us up at the airport?" "Does your Arabic teacher know you're coming back?" As soon as we arrive, one batch of the laundry goes into the washer, the rooms are checked for any problems (like exploding boilers)...and long-running resolutions to lose weight are renewed (exercising more often and "just" soup for dinner)... So as I wait for my carrot and tomato soup to cook, I'll tell you what happened to my Arabic teacher this morning. I called her just before class to check if it was on. Sent an SMS the previous night but no reply - nothing unusual about that. Anyway, she answered and said she was going to be 30 minutes late and "I have a story to tell you." OK, I said. Take your time. (Let's call my teacher Ahlam.) So I went to her parents' house (where we have l...
