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One step through the glass doors, and I knew Mado Café was the perfect place to sit back and sip a real cappuccino. The pretty little franchised bistro, sandwiched between Ataturk St. and the Orontes River, represented the Turkey that so badly wanted to be Western European. This was a place where waiters, dressed smartly in collared shirts with skinny ties, hovered around the main dining room delivering flaky pastries and delicate ice

Note: This article was previously published in the Standard-Examiner SATURDAY , FEBRUARY 16, 2013 - 11:14 PM

ALEPPO, Syria — The children sat huddled together at their desks. Small puffs of breath formed around their mouths as they repeated every word the teacher said.