A lazy day at the beach
Today was a lazy beach day.
I am still jet legged...
I have not been to the beach in a LONG time.
or at least, this is how it feels to me.
So, I spent most of my day, resting,
at the beach.
Earlier, we visited a busy market,
called "Shook", or in arabic, "Souk".
Markets are the living pulse of a culture.
Mountains of spices, fresh produce,
pickles, nuts, cheap clothing
vendors singing their wares,
joking, fighting verbally with one another,
Sharpening their tongues.
I am amazed that I understand ANYTHING...
The slang had evolved SO MUCH...
Old people pushing carts filled with
their daily bread,
cheese, veggies....
A single chicken leg...
An elder living alone...
Holding hopes for another day.
We meandered into a neighboring area,
called "The Yemenai Vineyard"
to look for Yemenai food.
I want Jules to try Yemenai food.
The area has low rise buildings,
some are crumbling.
Flowering vines climbing over walls
and into small balconies,
ornate courtyards...
Heavy wooden doors.
I ask about some specialty food
and get directions to a small, corner house.
A Yemenai lady invites us into her kitchen.
This tiny kitchen,
Is her sweet attempt at running a small restaurant.
She has one table,
and a single grey sofa.
We sit on the sofa which is already partly occupied
by a man working on his lap top computer.
She makes us two famous Yemenai dishes.
Both are pastry dishes
served with pureed fresh crushed tomatoes
and a hot sauce.
One pastry dish, is slowly baked overnight
the other is panfried.
It feels so surreal,
To be sitting in her tiny kitchen,
eating her home cooking
while she motherly hovers over us.
I spent the rest of the day at the beach.
Claimed a strategic place
between some couples and families,
rented an umbrella and beach chairs,
and went to sleep.
I took occasional dips in the warm water,
swam, slept, but mostly observed people.
It was lovely to see a group of five young men.
They came with a guitar,
a nargila (also called shisha),
And food.
They sat together next to me,
singing for hours.
They also played "catch" with a ball,
swam together,
were so comfortable with one another,
with their intimate friendship.....
It was heart warming,
to see them together.
They satso close to one another,
singing in harmony,
enjoying their physical togetherness.
They were NOT gay,
just natural with their gestures
as close friends.
I was thinking that in all my years
in the USA,
I have not ONCE,
seen men interact with so much intimacy,
unless they were gay
or a close family,
which these guys were neither.
I have been observing
So intently,
That now,
I am sun burnt.....
I am still jet legged...
I have not been to the beach in a LONG time.
or at least, this is how it feels to me.
So, I spent most of my day, resting,
at the beach.
Earlier, we visited a busy market,
called "Shook", or in arabic, "Souk".
Markets are the living pulse of a culture.
Mountains of spices, fresh produce,
pickles, nuts, cheap clothing
vendors singing their wares,
joking, fighting verbally with one another,
Sharpening their tongues.
I am amazed that I understand ANYTHING...
The slang had evolved SO MUCH...
Old people pushing carts filled with
their daily bread,
cheese, veggies....
A single chicken leg...
An elder living alone...
Holding hopes for another day.
We meandered into a neighboring area,
called "The Yemenai Vineyard"
to look for Yemenai food.
I want Jules to try Yemenai food.
The area has low rise buildings,
some are crumbling.
Flowering vines climbing over walls
and into small balconies,
ornate courtyards...
Heavy wooden doors.
I ask about some specialty food
and get directions to a small, corner house.
A Yemenai lady invites us into her kitchen.
This tiny kitchen,
Is her sweet attempt at running a small restaurant.
She has one table,
and a single grey sofa.
We sit on the sofa which is already partly occupied
by a man working on his lap top computer.
She makes us two famous Yemenai dishes.
Both are pastry dishes
served with pureed fresh crushed tomatoes
and a hot sauce.
One pastry dish, is slowly baked overnight
the other is panfried.
It feels so surreal,
To be sitting in her tiny kitchen,
eating her home cooking
while she motherly hovers over us.
I spent the rest of the day at the beach.
Claimed a strategic place
between some couples and families,
rented an umbrella and beach chairs,
and went to sleep.
I took occasional dips in the warm water,
swam, slept, but mostly observed people.
It was lovely to see a group of five young men.
They came with a guitar,
a nargila (also called shisha),
And food.
They sat together next to me,
singing for hours.
They also played "catch" with a ball,
swam together,
were so comfortable with one another,
with their intimate friendship.....
It was heart warming,
to see them together.
They satso close to one another,
singing in harmony,
enjoying their physical togetherness.
They were NOT gay,
just natural with their gestures
as close friends.
I was thinking that in all my years
in the USA,
I have not ONCE,
seen men interact with so much intimacy,
unless they were gay
or a close family,
which these guys were neither.
I have been observing
So intently,
That now,
I am sun burnt.....
