Do you know what I love? I'll give you a hint: I can't speak to
my loved ones, I eat irregularly at best and I am miles away
from the land I call home. Oops, that's three hints! Oh well.
Give up? I love being a hostage, that's what I love!  Now, I
know what you must be thinking: "She's off her feed! No one
could possibly love being a hostage!" Well, I'm proof that
there's more to being a hostage than just midnight beatings and
terse videotaped confessions. There's perks the likes of which
you wouldn't believe!  For example, I have learned another
language while I have been detained (or "lovingly retained," as
I like to say). I can say "yes" and "no," and renounce my
imperialist upbringing—all in Arabic! Also, thanks to a daily
diet of gruel, bread and sour milk, I've finally lost those
extra 15 pounds I've been trying for years to shed.  I came to
this fascinating country just for a visit. Goodness, I must have
looked like Sally Tourist, what with all the luggage and cameras
and such. We were taking a bus tou