Grace day again. It’s beautiful here – I finally understand what people have been talking about for the last nine weeks, about what happens when the humidity breaks: clear blue skies, soft air, light breeze. Perfect. It’s finally possible to walk outside for more than five minutes without developing a thin film of sweat from head to toe.
Grace notes? The first is extraordinarily simple:
1. Toast with butter and fresh honey, which I had for breakfast. I may, in fact, head back for a third piece. (It’s very small bread!)
2. The fresh honey comes from Food Queen Honey and we buy it from Suhil, from Yemen:
To amuse Caleb, Suhil did a dramatic pour:
3. Fresh naan bread, baked in a clay oven:
Finished:
We bought 3 plain naan and one filled with minced potato and onion, for 6 dihram. That’s about…$1.50.
4. Sunsets. Our apartment faces south and west, and every evening, I watch glorious slow sunsets. Even through my grimy windows (a natural filter of salt, sand, and dirt films the outside of all the windows. There aren’t enough window washers in the world to keep the windows of all these glass-clad skyscrapers clean):
5. Bougainvillea. Not so much the flowers themselves as their color. This city’s color scheme, aside from the color of the water, is generally…dust. Dusty brown, dusty green, dusty dust. So the shock of scarlet against a blue sky hits deep:
Hmmm: I wonder if Proflowers can match that?
full disclosure: I was compensated to include the link to proflowers, but the ideas, photos, and experiences in this post are completely my own
They *pour the honey into the jar for you?* Now…that makes it taste even better, I’ll bet.
You made me v. hungry. So hungry in fact that I’m going to go back for that third piece of honey toast even if you didn’t.
Oh, hey! This is cross-posted—who knew? That pint of blood I left over at GiST has me feeling woozy. You are making we want to live overseas with my family. A place with water.
There is nothing better on Earth than fresh naan bread. And bougainvillea! I keep trying to get it to grow in our garden, but alas, not enough sunlight (damn forest).