"For those of us who have chosen to live overseas, the holidays can be bittersweet. Family and long-time friends are far away, and the closest thing we can get to a turkey with all the trimmings is a broiled peacock over rice."
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Trying to avoid trishaws and potholes, the taxi-driver drove us home that night in his blue taxi, a 1962 Opel
Rekord. Dee was wearing her cat-eye glasses with the mother-of-pearl inlay on the stems that winked as we wound through the streets of S.I.A. I sat between Ali and Suz, and our shoulders touched. Dee sat in the front seat. She turned around now and then, smiling. The wind from the open window blew our hair in all directions, and we didn’t care.
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