Quiet Friday

Today was very eventless. There was no rioting, no demonstrations ... it was like a normal day ... which can be eerie when you're used to violence in the streets on Fridays. And as usual for the month following Ramadan, muslim weddings are taking place every week especially on Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays. Lots of fireworks ... dreadful explosions this evening from behind our house as one of the boys was married. At 5pm flocks of friends and relatives arrive, wearing their absolute best, walking up the hill under 36 degree sun. Nightmare. Women in high heels navigate carefully the uneven stone road with cracks large enough to twist your ankles.

Our empty gate

The security guys in front of our house are missing Mohammed Siam. He was the gruff, rude guy who sold postcards and Via Dolorosa pamphlets, cursing, swearing, threatening everyone especially the tourist guides. They're afraid of him. The security guys had their share of scuffles with him: throwing chairs, spitting, even fist-fights. But now that he's dead, our gate is very quiet ... so quiet that we're not used to it. We laugh about the pranks we used to pull on him, and he on us. After knowing him for 25 years, I know that despite his aggressive behaviour, he was a good man inside. He would give his little earnings to the poor, clean the little mosque he cared for down the road, prayed faithfully 5 times a day. And whenever I was sick or in hospital, he would ask after me.

My eye is recovering well though I have not yet 100% vision. Still applying medicine whenever I remember or have the time. My feet still hurt. Will have to see the podiatrist soon otherwise walking will become too painful.