A long, picture post

So we're back in Beirut after a blissful few days in Kfarhouna, C's village in the south. Kfarhouna, in Syriac, means "The village of the brothers". Presumably because everyone is related?

Kfarhouna is high in the mountains-- the air is cooler and drier, and the mountains are covered in pine forests and in ancient terraces where the local farmers used to plant their grapevines, their olive trees, their wheat and their fruit orchards. Most (but not all of them) are abandoned now, with only the stone walls left.

The air their smells like hot dust, crushed mint, lavendar, roses, and sometimes less pleasant things (truck exhaust, goats). Everyone who lives in the village year-round is basically self-sufficient. They have their chickens (and their roosters who start conversing at about 3am every morning), their orchards, their vegetable gardens and their grapevines. There is plenty of water in Kfarhouna, unlike Beirut. In Beirut, the water is on only for 5 or 6 hours a day (and there is always an electricity cut for three hours/day). But in Kfarhouna, the water comes straight from the mountain, and there is plenty of it, making it easy to cultivate every imaginable fruit and vegetable.

Some of the things we did while in Kfarhouna: took walks to see the goats and chickens, played in front of the house with C's cousin's children, who are almost the same age as Geo, watched the boys ride their bikes, play with squirtguns and light sparklers. One afternoon, C and I went to his uncle's orchard and picked a couple of kilos of mulberries. When we were finished, it looked like we were both covered in blood! Haifa turned some of the berries into a thick syrup that is used to make juice, and some we ate immediately. We also went to the local monastary (named in honor of Saint George) and took Geo to the pool in Jezzine, the town that's about 10 minutes away.

Geo cried this morning when we told him we were going back to Beirut. He loved playing outside all day, with children his age (who were being really nice to him! Unlike French kids....). He's covered in mosquito bites, has a burn on his finger from a sparkler, is tanned-- basically all signs of the ideal summer for a three year old boy.

Some pictures....

In Jezzine, at Tante Marie's house:


Helping Taita prepare lunch at Tante Marie's house:


The view from Marie and Joseph's front balcony:


One of their grapevines:


Nap after arriving in Kfarhouna, completely worn out from exploring Marie and Joseph's garden and orchards, and helping with the barbeque:


There are many, many more pictures, but it took almost 2 hours to upload these five, so the rest will have to wait!