Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Farewell, Farazan

"We sail tonight for Singapore.  We're all as mad as hatters here.  I've fallen for a tawny Moor, took off toward the Land of Nod.  Drank with all the Chinamen, I've walked the sewers of Paris.  I've danced along a colored wind, dangled from a rope of sand.  You must say goodbye to me."  -Waits, Singapore.
The boats ashore.  The captain has been paid handsomely.  The sun is going down.  It's time to leave Farazan Island.
The fish are to market and the nets are rolled away.
The sun's powerful roar has rolled into a mighty yawn.
The boys are playing tag along the dock.  A minute after this photo was taken, the larger boy threw his brother into the drink.
The men lay up their scarves and robes and head back to the only land they call home.
They wander out into the desert.  I would not follow them for the world.
Even the children stare hungrily at the sands.
The week is finished and I am heading back to teaching.  When vacations end, especially vacations from a seemingly endless vacation, there is an overwhelming sense of nostalgia, but not here.  I turn away from the sun and head back to the unknown of life in Saudi Arabia.

No comments:

Post a Comment