It's 21:00 and we are all gathered in the living room.
Rosalinda is about to commence. A Mexican drama series dubbed in Arabic which
the whole family used to watch each evening sometimes for months at end.
Usually after dinner.
Although a rarity, the scene involves a shootout. The clitter clatter of gunshots, machine guns and flying bullets are overwhelming, a scene and sound that slowly fades to that of a different clatter. A clatter whose sound brings upon me a sense of utter refreshment, cleansing and newness. A sound so familiar and longed for as that of mother natures release, of rain resonating off the zinc roof above my bed, slight whispers of earth smelling cool breeze through the mosquito net.
Although a rarity, the scene involves a shootout. The clitter clatter of gunshots, machine guns and flying bullets are overwhelming, a scene and sound that slowly fades to that of a different clatter. A clatter whose sound brings upon me a sense of utter refreshment, cleansing and newness. A sound so familiar and longed for as that of mother natures release, of rain resonating off the zinc roof above my bed, slight whispers of earth smelling cool breeze through the mosquito net.
I
smile only to be jolted back by the stark beep of my alarm summoning a new day,
a bright morning and with it the unknown of a new training route.
Ive never walked these distances before and I fantasize and daydream of running for my life, how it would have panned out. How long would I last under dire straights? But I will never know. These walking shoes shelter from the heat. The snacks in my bag nourish and quench. A blister kit always at hand, and many more but most importantly, the knowledge that there's always a tram, bus, tube or train near.
All the more to think and remember those who didn't and are still on the road. As shared here in http://www.visualnews.com/2014/02/05/long-walk-photographer-documents-sudanese-refugee-crisis-hundreds-shoes/
