An adventure in reconnection, renewal, & the Unknown. I. We find our steps, again, in a lacunae ten thousand miles deep by seven years wide, but the same portal sun beckons there to the children of wolves. In the stillness now is not heaviness but a coarse patoi of courage, stumbling on tongue tips of burnt honey. Not an aimless idle, but an inner knowing that an invisible River never ceases, even in yearning, in restless drought, even where aRead More
I remember exactly how I felt sitting in a cheap plastic chair on that little balcony during my first night in Cairo, feet propped up on the railing as I stared out at a softly glowing haze thick with dust and sand. Al Qahirah’s tradewinds blew a hot, dirty night breeze into our faces, and despite already knowing that the city’s air was notorious for turning its residents’ lungs as black as pack-a-day smokers, I was completely in love.
I’m preparing to hand over my job to someone else this week, and then I’ll officially move on to new things. Tonight, I’m combing through old emails for helpful clues to give the incoming fellow about reporting deadlines and donor profiles, and buried five pages back in the gmail archives I discovered a slightly bewildered and bemused note that I wrote home some time during my first month in Kabul: “I’m sitting at a French restaurant called Le Bistro waitingRead More