Ever wonder why you don't live in a George Orwell novel, a place where up is down if the right person says it's so; a place that sooner or later, like a rotten empire, will always implode under the weight of its own self-deceit?
Today is Day 8 of my life as a foreigner in Yemen. I'm in a dilapidated cargo office at the international airport in Sanaa, a capital city that sits on a mountain plateau 2,000 metres above sea level. Almost one million souls live here in what is one of the oldest inhabited regions of the world. I think I'm the only one wearing a Team Canada cap.