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	<title>Comments on: miscellaneous observations about shopping in the shuk (open market)</title>
	<link>http://danyaruttenberg.net/2004/07/30/miscellaneous-observations-about-shopping-in-the-shuk-open-market/</link>
	<description>Danya Ruttenberg's website</description>
	<pubDate>Thu, 04 Dec 2008 06:44:02 +0000</pubDate>
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		<title>By: Anonymous</title>
		<link>http://danyaruttenberg.net/2004/07/30/miscellaneous-observations-about-shopping-in-the-shuk-open-market/#comment-30</link>
		<dc:creator>Anonymous</dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 31 Jul 2004 11:51:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<guid>http://danyaruttenberg.net/2004/07/30/miscellaneous-observations-about-shopping-in-the-shuk-open-market/#comment-30</guid>
		<description>In Italy a crowd is also an excuse for a little pickpocketing or groping - at least in Rome in the 90s.

-Owlmother</description>
		<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>In Italy a crowd is also an excuse for a little pickpocketing or groping - at least in Rome in the 90s.</p>
<p>-Owlmother</p>
]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>By: Rachel</title>
		<link>http://danyaruttenberg.net/2004/07/30/miscellaneous-observations-about-shopping-in-the-shuk-open-market/#comment-29</link>
		<dc:creator>Rachel</dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 31 Jul 2004 00:03:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<guid>http://danyaruttenberg.net/2004/07/30/miscellaneous-observations-about-shopping-in-the-shuk-open-market/#comment-29</guid>
		<description>When I visited Israel with my mother in 1998, I remember that our tour guide (a very sweet Arab guy whose name I've forgotten) touched my arm and shoulder often, as Mediterranean men often do. I found it charming; my mother seemed kind of agitated, and I got the sense it was weirder for her to see an Arab tour guide touching her daughter than it would be to see a Greek tour guide doing the same thing. I wrote a poem about that, actually. Hm: do you have my chapbook? Perhaps a care package will wing its way to you soon...</description>
		<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>When I visited Israel with my mother in 1998, I remember that our tour guide (a very sweet Arab guy whose name I&#8217;ve forgotten) touched my arm and shoulder often, as Mediterranean men often do. I found it charming; my mother seemed kind of agitated, and I got the sense it was weirder for her to see an Arab tour guide touching her daughter than it would be to see a Greek tour guide doing the same thing. I wrote a poem about that, actually. Hm: do you have my chapbook? Perhaps a care package will wing its way to you soon&#8230;</p>
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