June 2012

We sat on floors, slept on mats, and braided each others hair. Speaking slowly, repeating swear words for the nuances in their pronunciations. Eating like family, speaking like friends. It was warm where we slept but the air outside was frigid.
Stepping out there to watch the sun rise over the swelling sand. We fought our alarms, rolled over, and nudged each other awake because promises were made. And there it was.
I felt the arid air; touched the sound of simple silence after so many sounding circles. The absence of noise and humidity. Sababa. Lost in thoughts of prayers to see more sun rises. This was the first time I traveled alone and knew it wouldn't be my last. Ingénue, I caught the bug.