Talk talk talk

There have been a lot of deaths in the family the last month. Some of them unexpectedly, others of old age.

This is Mohamed’s vast family, I’m talking about. About 80% of the people living here are family.

They don’t always have the same surname. That’s because when the French administration exacted everybody to be registered, any name was accepted. The French were ruling here somewhere in the first part of the 19th century.

Mohamed’s Bedouin grandfather (or was it his great-grandfather) came from the East of the country, settling in the next village (Ebzimo). His father moved to our village (Kafr Amme) where there was literally nothing, but the ruins of a Roman village and a lot of snakes.

“Kafr” is not Arabic. It is an old Roman word meaning “garden/field”.

Today locals still refer to Ebzimo as “our village” and to Kafr Amme as “where nobody lives” although many are living here. More and more each day.

When someone of the family or of a befriended family dies, it is absolutely necessary to go and visit the next of kin. This visit may last from a few hours to a week. Last month one of the hundreds of cousins died. This meant him spending all of his free time in the tent that was set up outside of the house to receive all the visitors.

Some come from far to pay their respects. That’s why every night a big meal is prepared and lots of tea and coffee is served.

It is a perfect occasion for all to meet, to talk about old times and to strengthen family ties and friendships.

When they all meet, conflicts are remembered again. Often a big meeting is set up to try to resolve the situation. Often they talk and talk and talk, but the conflict remains.