We returned from the desert on Jan. 1. It was about 12:30 in the morning. Tired. Silent. Distant neighbors. And we sat on a sidewalk. Near us was a large sign decorated with tiles, which were scenes from popular, indicated that we had just come out or we were just coming in the desert. And we had just passed through the back door in or out, do not know.
In the afternoon, after trading at Douz, in a sunny courtyard surrounded by children and the elderly, then the carpet in a room and looking through the path of return to the north, greetings, pictures, thoughts, kindness, sense deep respect, hospitality, we headed to Gabes, Tunis stopover before reaching the next day.
We stopped at a Kettani, for a stop in front of the sea, a green tea, a Frico them and then the glass of tea I'll take you and bring it to Walking on the beach with you and that is a pleasure for the few.
The beach was green that day. Green, yes, but most of the mint. The withdrawal of the oil left in the sun shining with emerald algae in the eye. The sea was a sea bottom of the sea as the sea itself.
I walked with me and my tea. Under a thrilling sun, dry, lively.
I walked around for a quarter, and returned to the car. As I climbed on my
, Francis looked at me, nodded his head, ricambai, a smile that was not a smile but a dialogue of hours and days, we got in the car, as if he already knew everything.
He knows my nostalgia for Africa, if we may so call it.
known him since he left Kenya for about three years ago turned over and went back as a sock, as they say in my part.
I say ill of Africa, but the concept of in-and-out that I mentioned before, the beginning of this paper.
Yeah, inside and out.
Who's in, who's out, where is where the inside and outside.
Questions that constantly surround me with thoughts like scarves around the neck under the sun every time I go down to the South.
The day I said, we leave for the safari, we go to see the animals, I was excited. But not fully aware of what it meant after that.
day I realized then that would simply say, go inside.
Inside what? Inside
stop. This was what I felt. I felt the skin. The smells. The colors. Space. The size of everything. INSIDE everything happens according to specific rules and unwritten by millions of years.
I was at home. O my true home. Still do not know. Among the animals. Plants. The natural cycles. In a world existing and unbuilt.
And feel a strong sense of inside them. Away. Presence. Truth. No longer the center of anything. But to be just. And move. And do. Li
everything moves and you can not do anything to stop it. Or you should not do anything to contaminate it. Why is it all so perfect.
You just so, stands alone.
're inside, inside really.
And that day I was in the desert, yes, just like that.
And heard everything loud.
The silence is deafening at night.
you burn.
Under the sky the stars you look cold.
Dawn will freeze the blood.
Somewhere someone or something knows you're there.
I remember January 1, at approximately 12:30 am, when we were sitting on a sidewalk outside DOUZ, and close to us motorbikes and camels were woven between asphalt and sand, the sky no longer touched the ground anywhere but glided over the rooftops to search for a point of contact.
We were sitting at the border.
the border of an inside and an out that you eat the objective manifestation of the senses and spit you feel confused by all the worlds.
Africa.
He feels that's all.
When you are there you feel it, feel it really strong.
And you're everywhere and nowhere.
In-and-out.
I'm glad to have been in-and-out with them.
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