I was sitting in Tim’s office downstairs, working on my website, when it happened. Our babysitter Rahel was outside in the garden with the baby, and had left the front door slightly ajar so that she’d be able to get back in. The day—like almost every day in Sana’a—had been clear and sunny. Suddenly I [...]

• Lunch at Farouk’s house
• Returning to Yemen
• They think you are all spies