As for places one can find on a map, my favorite place in Tusisia (so far) is the farmland of Khazazia, flourishing with olive and almond trees. The walk from the farmhouse (home to a few members of Nadhem's extended family) to the main road takes at least a half hour. Before reaching the corner to wait for a ride, we stopped by the house on the last plot of land to say hello to the man who lives there. Nadhem informed me that the man is kind, yet a little crazy (forgive me for forgetting his name). Apparently, he was successful in his studies to a point, but something happened. Further details, which I don't recall, aren't important.
Outside his house, a teapot was boiling over charcoals. Nadhem walked inside and woke the man from his rest. After a moment, he came back out and used two sticks to set the kettle on the ground. We mozied around back to find a grove of olive trees stretching far into the yard. I could smell the steam of the sweet mint tea wafting in the breeze. Around the other side, we walked across a field of wild flowers: yellow and white daisies with the occasional rich-red poppy. After a while the tall, scruffy-haired man emerged from the house. As he approached, the smell of urine almost knocked me over. We stood around for a few minutes before he retreated back into his house.
After enjoying some time in the field of flowers beneath a lovely overcast sky, we headed towards the house to say goodbye. The man of the house was sitting near a tall, wooden door at the front gate. As the three of us walked down the main road, Nadhem pointed out the piss stains on the back of the man's pants. We waited on the corner and the man practiced the little English he knew by asking me my name and subsequently telling me to shut up (a commonly remembered expression that's always amusing to hear). After popping into a small store to buy some fruit and smokes, he made his way back down the dusty road to his home. Nadhem proceeded to tell me that this guy lives alone and has nobody. Although he's apparently quite bright, nobody ever wants to talk to him as something's "off". Nadhem makes it a point to pass by and spend time with him on trips out to his family's house.
>>> In the beginning, when the smell of urine almost knocked me over, I'm not gonna lie: I was a little uncomfortable. As the experience continued, I began to realize even more of the infinite compassion and love that lies within Nadhem's heart. Standing in the field of flowers, enjoying the moment, I was thankful for every aspect of my life. Finally, as I watched the man walk down the dusty road that led to his big, lonely farmhouse, my heart opened even wider. I was really glad that Nadhem brought me there, and thought to myself: how awesome it's been to be hanging out with someone almost ten years younger than I (who hasn't ever left his country or ventured too far from home)... and be constantly learning and wisening-up.
As we sat on the corner waiting for a ride, I noticed the trash all over the ground. I don't know what sparked it, but my thoughts turned to death. Seeing that Nadhem was upset by my tears, my thought process immediately shifted. Death is part of life and Nadhem's father had passed away years ago. How grateful I should be that I've been able to enjoy the company of my parents. The following week, Nadhem brought me to his father's grave. He poured water over the marble gravestone and cleaned it off with his hand. A couple of men approached us and recited verses from the holy Qur'an. After they left, Nadhem and I prayed over the grave. The entire time, I was on the verge of outright sobbing. As we continued to pray, a calm swept over me. I was able to remember that each moment of life is God's will. The next moment is not guaranteed. Of course, we never know when it'll be our time. But when it is, may we remember to thank God, as he takes the ones he loves.
Outside his house, a teapot was boiling over charcoals. Nadhem walked inside and woke the man from his rest. After a moment, he came back out and used two sticks to set the kettle on the ground. We mozied around back to find a grove of olive trees stretching far into the yard. I could smell the steam of the sweet mint tea wafting in the breeze. Around the other side, we walked across a field of wild flowers: yellow and white daisies with the occasional rich-red poppy. After a while the tall, scruffy-haired man emerged from the house. As he approached, the smell of urine almost knocked me over. We stood around for a few minutes before he retreated back into his house.
After enjoying some time in the field of flowers beneath a lovely overcast sky, we headed towards the house to say goodbye. The man of the house was sitting near a tall, wooden door at the front gate. As the three of us walked down the main road, Nadhem pointed out the piss stains on the back of the man's pants. We waited on the corner and the man practiced the little English he knew by asking me my name and subsequently telling me to shut up (a commonly remembered expression that's always amusing to hear). After popping into a small store to buy some fruit and smokes, he made his way back down the dusty road to his home. Nadhem proceeded to tell me that this guy lives alone and has nobody. Although he's apparently quite bright, nobody ever wants to talk to him as something's "off". Nadhem makes it a point to pass by and spend time with him on trips out to his family's house.
>>> In the beginning, when the smell of urine almost knocked me over, I'm not gonna lie: I was a little uncomfortable. As the experience continued, I began to realize even more of the infinite compassion and love that lies within Nadhem's heart. Standing in the field of flowers, enjoying the moment, I was thankful for every aspect of my life. Finally, as I watched the man walk down the dusty road that led to his big, lonely farmhouse, my heart opened even wider. I was really glad that Nadhem brought me there, and thought to myself: how awesome it's been to be hanging out with someone almost ten years younger than I (who hasn't ever left his country or ventured too far from home)... and be constantly learning and wisening-up.
As we sat on the corner waiting for a ride, I noticed the trash all over the ground. I don't know what sparked it, but my thoughts turned to death. Seeing that Nadhem was upset by my tears, my thought process immediately shifted. Death is part of life and Nadhem's father had passed away years ago. How grateful I should be that I've been able to enjoy the company of my parents. The following week, Nadhem brought me to his father's grave. He poured water over the marble gravestone and cleaned it off with his hand. A couple of men approached us and recited verses from the holy Qur'an. After they left, Nadhem and I prayed over the grave. The entire time, I was on the verge of outright sobbing. As we continued to pray, a calm swept over me. I was able to remember that each moment of life is God's will. The next moment is not guaranteed. Of course, we never know when it'll be our time. But when it is, may we remember to thank God, as he takes the ones he loves.
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