The Pestle Wielder

I spent the better part of my day rambling through a Nubian village, admiring the unadulterated use of all colours more vivid than I had expected.

Beauty lives here, and she is not shy.

Almost all houses have painted the names of their owners above the entrance doors. Notable is that most of the names are female, rather than male.

On our way out, and while walking down the street, I saw an elderly woman sat in the middle of the road. She was shrouded in black (as protection against the sun), with pestle in her right hand. Her slippers were to the left of her outstretched legs, and she was quite happily crushing henna for its soon use.

Here’s something of which I can assure you –  the most miserable people I know are those with the largest sums of money. While money might facilitate certain things, it absolutely cannot buy peace of heart and mind. And there are people at whom I look and implicitly understand that If the Universe wishes to redeem them, It will bankrupt them in money, that they might learn value and worth have nothing to do with their pockets.

When I walked over to say salaam to this hajja, she looked up at me and her smile lit my heart. Zoom in on the photo and you will see for yourselves.

If she had told me she had peace of heart and mind to sell, I would have believed her and offered all I carried. Only, I imagine she would have given them away for free.

Today, I am grateful for:
1. Simplicity.
2. That neither my values system nor my worth have a thing to do with money.
3. The Nubian mint tea which was the most flavorful I have had since my arrival in Egypt.

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