Illinois in May

Snapshots of everyday life

shoes piles around hall tree full of coats

Cats

black cat curled around potted plant trunk

two cats curled up on artisan pillow covers

cat in purple plastic crate dozing in sunshine

two cats sleeping side by side in plastic chair

cat sitting on cardboard that is placed over grate in street

black and white cat looking at fish vendor

two cats sitting on cafe chairs — “Okay, okay. Who tipped off the paparazzi?”

three cats dozing on stone path in the sun — “It’s called ‘vitamin D deficiency’. We all have it.”

white and black cat on cafe table — “You asked what they serve here?”

Holidays in the desert

Spending Christmas and New Years in disputed territory sounds exotic. And it was. Not in a dangerous sort of way, but in a different sort of way.

aerial view of snow-capped mountains and desert

Flying in from the north gave us a view of breathtaking scenery. First there was green, then snow-capped mountains, and last of all desert: vast stretches of orange that melted into the sky without a horizon. Later, we discovered the reason for that: wind.

aerial view of expanse of desert and blue sky

dry desert floor with sand dune in the background

desert flower blooming between cracks in desert floor

Who could turn down a cup of tea in the middle of the desert? But even in the driest parts of the desert, there was life… signs that deserts will bloom. We also visited an oasis. It was a beautiful and forsaken piece of green property on the way to nowhere.

We stayed in a small town where few foreigners roam, everything is everyone’s business, and camel meat is cheaper than beef. We stopped at lots of checkpoints, visited a nearby fishing village, ate ourselves sick of fresh fish, stuck our toes in the chilly ocean, watched fishermen bring in the day’s catch, rolled down a sand dune (getting sand in our eyes, ears, noses and carrying it home in our pockets), met a few camels and tasted them too.

fried fish and french fries with coke on restaurant table

two women in saharan wraps walking along coastline while little boy plays in sand

silhouettes of fishermen on peninsula with sunset in the background

shoes next to carpet in light coming from doorway

But best of all, we got to meet people with years and years of rich nomadic history.

Birds, beach, and blue

One day of autumn

Autumn is my favorite season. This year I had one day of what I would consider true autumn: the sweet smell of damp and fallen leaves, apples, pumpkin bread, brisk air. It was lovely. I had to enjoy the entire season in only one day in that mountain town. But I think I succeeded.

Despite the Midwest feeling of that fall day, now and then there was a reminder that I wasn’t in central Illinois:

The wedding I didn’t attend

I didn’t attend a wedding. That statement, of course, depends on one’s definition of “wedding”, I suppose. I did attend one or two ceremonies during the six day celebration, but the ceremonies were so low-key that I didn’t even see the bride. That’s why I say I didn’t attend because how can one attend a wedding without seeing who the wedding was for?

What I did experience, however, was enough to send my cultural senses spinning. Colorful clothing, drums and horns, dancing, green and rolling countryside, bread baking in an outside oven, a restless night curled up foot-to-foot with a stranger who kept stealing my blanket, mint tea and sweets to accompany the luscious wedding feast…

But I wasn’t only observing; I was being observed. My status as the only foreigner at this countryside wedding earned me plenty of stares, questions, and giggling girls developing heroine crushes on the uncomfortable-looking foreigner in the green dress.

After only 29 hours away from home, I returned feeling both culturally enriched and overwhelmed.

little girls holding hands next to adults in robes

beef and prune tagine in center of table

Let me be a tourist

Picturesque September

Experiencing Eid Kbir

I could write a lot of things about this important holiday, but this post isn’t meant to be informational or theological. It’s is simply a snapshot of what my last couple of days have looked like. Granted, I decided not to display gruesome images of animal slaughter (thus limiting my photo options).

The first couple of photos are from the days before Eid. The city began to fill with the bleating of sheep and shops sold the necessities for the special day. Some shops even closed as their owners traveled. This is the country’s biggest holiday of the year.

Then, I had the chance to experience the celebration firsthand. I guess the first sign that Eid was upon us was when the neighbors moved a cow and then a sheep into their courtyard below my window. Soon the sheep’s bleating was only one of many others ricocheting off the concrete walls.

On Sunday evening, I joined my friend and her family for the Monday celebration. My head is spinning with the lifetime I feel like I lived in those two days. To my credit, I tasted a bit of everything that was served. The first meal of liver and heart kebabs with a side of spleen wasn’t too bad. But by evening, I admit that my mind refused to go over matter with the stomach and lungs dish. And what was worse was getting up in the morning to a breakfast of the head and feet. At least, now that I’m on the other side of it, I can look back and smile. I think my sampling of meat dishes until this point has been too tame!