Oman – sunset, stars, home

Down the alleyway, you look to the left and see light. Light through clouds, behind clouds. Mountains loom large, unmenacing. They are majestic. Stone cut, jagged and broken, geometric shapes forming rippling beauty. Explainable only by catastrophism. You may insist ‘over time’ but these aged mountains would defy you. A halo of sunshine is blinding, edging the clouds as with lace. Glowing rays stream down and particles of dust swirl in the sea air, blue sky behind and palm trees swaying below, newly lightened of their load of dates. Goats, frolicking; kittens, jump out of the cardboard box lying in the middle of the road. Greetings, as people hurry past and you look toward the sky. Light, missing in a village that sees it every day. A peaceful sun overlooking fear. White wisps trail above and hesitant wind sings. Real Light is never a contradiction.

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I am home in Dubai, and was very excited to return – though I already miss baby Leif and look forward to going back in January. Exhausted but satisfied; it was wonderful to watch the girls give their parents a little presentation of what they’d learned throughout the week. My own cultural experiences along with that of being with another family and caring for and teaching their children, gave me much to think about as well. Such an opportunity! Not to say that it was in the least bit easy, and in the longer weeks it will get harder, but God really did bless this first short period. It is a different world in Khasab; mountains, burkas, tiny village – not even Arabic speakers.
The preceding and following pieces are short reflections written while there. Everything inspires in place that quiet.

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Power out, on the rooftop looking at the stars. Incense wafting through from neighboring roofs, a rich, pungent addition to the sea mountain air. The stars flicker and shine with incomparable brightness. One shoots across the sky, and surely the rest are winking at us. My hand on Nisse’s shoulder, I can feel her little heart beating warm. We look up at Cassiopeia and her friends, the Pleiades sisters seven. A shade of fog settles on the mountains and a steady glow emanates from the cliffs. Laughter of village girls on the next roof floats by and the glare of their flashlight is startling. The stars still glimmer and sparkle overhead. We climb down uneven steps and fill the house with candles. As I write the sound of bedtime stories is soft in the background.

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