It's Saturday morning, which means my head it a little blank, trying to recover from the weekend. I spend Thursday in the mountains with a family of nomads (well, not really, they have three farms in the mountains for each of the seasons, and they move their camels between the farms). Anyway, I visit this family regularily and without fail I always come back to town in a state of shock. I live a busy life; cell phone, work, car, email, facebook, travel, etc, and sometimes I forget what it's like to be silent (peace within). When I visit my mountain family, I remember. They live a simple life on a simple farm. Every afternoon they sit out on their hill, drink tea, talk about the old days and recite poetry. Men and women sit together in mountain culture, unlike town people. They chat, laugh, exchange news, and sing in Jebbali (the local mountain dialect). During the day they tend to their animals, grow vegetables, make ghee, and take care of the children. I usually take a gift of fruit; something they consider a treat because of its rarity. They only come into town once a month or so. Our lives are so different, yet they accept me as I am and welcome me into their circle of laughter. They remind me that happiness is simple, and life should not be so complicated. I spend three of four hours with them inhaling life, then I am thrown back into my own life once I drive back into town and my cell phone starts working again (no reception up in the mountains, thank goodness). Sigh. How was your weekend?
THE HOUSE: Gardening Attempts Update
3 days ago