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Christel's Diary

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07 February 2011

Abu Mohamed

And campers are still coming by. Either camping in Syria and Jordan is becoming very popular or our campsite is becoming very well known. Many are now heading back to Europe, while a few are descending to Africa.

We had 2 nights of frost too late in the season. It nearly killed all blossoms on the “inkydyniya” trees. It is a fruit I never had before I came to live in Syria. It is yellowish orange with big stones and the size of small prunes. Very delicious and quenching.

I still shouldn’t be complaining. The weather has been great in January. We just went through a second winter fortnight (rain, 2 nights of frost and a cold wind blowing) and it looks like spring will gradually take over. Last night we slept with 2 blankets instead of 3.

This year I started pruning plants and trees myself. This is a job I left entirely to Mohamed until now, but I find he is often too late. Only the grapevines still need to be done. Those are for the expert in the house.

Zakaria is becoming less timid again when with strangers. He is regularly requesting to go to Aunty Nadima or Chamsi. When that turns into a visit to Aunty Fahima, he doesn’t mind.

Last week he and I were visiting Aunty Chamsi. Zakaria slipped outside and ran the whole way to his brother Khaliel’s house. I was able to supervise the various attempts while chatting in the sun with Chamsi.

He went the first time past the house Mohamed is building for Tallal, his 2nd youngest son. The 2nd time, Zakaria went half way and then remembered he left Mama behind. The 3rd time he went all the way up to the house and came back as the door was closed. We decided to go with him and ring the door to have a chat in the sun with Khaliel’s wife.

Zakaria loves to go over there. Khaliel is his favourite half brother and he loves to visit his nephew, Mohamed, who is exactly 2 years younger as himself. Too young to play with, but that doesn’t matter.

Zakaria and Khaliel love each other dearly. They spend a lot of time together during the dead moments in the workshop downstairs. Khaliel’s wife told me that when her husband comes home at night he calls his own son Zakaria.

All of Mohamed’s married sons have called their first son Mohamed which makes them all Abu Mohamed. It leads to misunderstandings. And yes… Zakaria recently had a new nephew called Mohamed.

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