Tag Archive for ‘drink’

Child of the alley

child of the alley

child of the alley

They roam the little alleys looking up at adults with wide eyes, they are petted by every passer by, talked to by every grandmother and given treats by every aunt and uncle, they are loved. The more I go to the alleys, the more I walk among the people, the more I feel the warmth and the innocence that transfer between the generations.

Day 16~ November 16th~ New York

I will meet you in the underground

When you ride the subway trains in New York City everyday with their strong smell, the shrieking brake noise of the arriving trains, the unintelligible speech of the conductors, and the repeating “stand clear of the closing doors”, you beging to feel a sense of belonging in those underground tunnels, almost like a city rat. You pick a spot that is convenient for you stand in each day while you wait for the train, you decide weather you are in the mood to look for a seat or simply just stand, and the train ride becomes a kind of a meditation. I always loved people watching while on the subway, and trying to imagine the stories behind each face while trying hard to keep mine anonymous.

Day 16~ February 16th~ Lebanon

hospitality

It can safely be said that hospitality is an essence that lives and resonates strongly in Lebanese people and in their society. It is a place that a visitor is often invited to a meal several times a day by total strangers, and it is not a matter of speech, they really do mean it and they do receive great pleasure from feeding you. It is an open door policy, especially in villages and a warmth and generosity that is very difficult to say no to. In fact you must choose between getting fat during the holidays or upsetting quite a few people who cannot handle your rejection. In a world where anonymity is becoming the rule of day, returning to such openness and close contact with people is so heartwarming and refreshing.

Day One Hundred Seventy One, July 12, 2011

another year

Funny thing about living in China when it is your birthday; you celebrate it and then you are asked by a local how old you are, which you admit truthfully and try to be all graceful about the whole thing, until they ask, “is that in western years?”, “beg your pardon?” you ask, and then, just like that, they add a year to your already ancient age. Your birthday is the day you are conceived and not the day you are born, so here take 9 extra months on top!

Cheers, my friends, one day I will go back to the West and gain a year back 🙂

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