Life is predictable, with the occasional dust storm and, as Abdul’s house becomes my home, my body starts settling into my life as a wanderer. I now shower in the morning and in the evening instead of every time I use the toilet.
As if there has been a call to action, the community turn into my French tutors. Abu doesn’t let a moment pass without teaching me basic French words, pointing at objects and translating my actions. The man who always gives me a bit of the grilled meat he sells doesn’t consider it a visit without tea. Water, tea, mint, sugar, eat, sheep, fire: Eau, thé, menthe, sucre, manger, mouton, feu.
My greetings are becoming more conversational. When people ask me how I’m doing, I respond as they…
