Easter Olives

On Sunday morning Bryan, Dan, Laura and I woke up at dawn and hiked in grey light to the top the hill behind our house. We sat on the rocky remains of crumbling fox-hole walls and looked at the town spread out like a child's imagination below us. Sleepy smoke from early morning fires hung low and still over yards full of chicken specks and very small women moved slowly, preparing food for hungry things. The air was so still that I felt like I could hear the whole world waking up in the silence of those moments - the rustle of cotton cloth, the clink of a dropped spoon, the padding of bare feet, the gurgle of boiling water - all far below me and yet whispers in my ear. When we had caught our breath we sang a few songs. Then we prayed and watched the sun rise out of a mound of silver clouds and blue mountains. It was a very beautiful morning.

On Sunday afternoon we traveled to the town four hours of North of us for a supply run. The four of us went with Jon and Heather, a couple from the organization next door with a Land Cruiser and generous hearts. The road has improved significantly in recent months but is still rocky and dry with frequent detours through river beds and massive herds of sheep. We must have been quite a sight as we finally pulled into town and over to the only ice-cold-pineapple-milkshake-place in town covered from head to toe in a fine layer of red dust. We plopped down at a plastic table in front of speakers blaring shrill music and ordered several delicious rounds of ice-cold water before starting into the milkshakes. Oh the pleasure! Another delight of our little weekend trip was the fact that all the regular rooms at the local hotel were full, meaning we had to be put into the "safi" rooms with air-conditioning and TV. The only irony is that local custom provides merely a single sheet on top of the mattress itself so we ended up freezing to death both nights we were there. (Heaven forbid we would actually turn the blessed thing off...)
Despite our "couples retreat" mentality, being in this town made the reality of the elections all the more stark. The roads were filled with hundreds of police carrying AK s and long plastic pipes. Some were buzzing down the streets in the back of pick-ups saddled with heavy artillery weapons. Others were in alleys trying on riot control gear. Small blue cars with loudspeakers strapped to the roof inched down streets while the political rhetoric of whatever party they represented tumbled out loudly behind them like excess baggage. Despite the fun of being in the "big city" there was an uneasiness that all the Jackie Chan movies dubbed in Arabic couldn't quite shake.
We got home safely last night and everything seemed normal here. Even after air-conditioning and MTV Arabia, our toasty tent and bootlegged copies of "Smallville" didn't feel so bad. The stars are brighter and the night quieter than they are four hours North of here. And, we now have enough olives and Happy Cow cheese to see us through just about any crisis.