Showing posts from April, 2014


We were born in a village by the sea, squeezed on three sides by the slopes of a mountain and two hills. It was a godforsaken place, save for the summer months, when it brimmed with tourists from the inland and beyond. With the onset of September, they left, shepherding their children back to school, while motorists on the north-south beach road went out of their way to avoid driving through. The windswept main square lay empty, and the lonely café on the overhang was deserted, except for a handful of old sailors, waiting unhurriedly for another day. Yunus and I grew up together, as inseparable as Siamese twins. While the other kids were locked up in school, we often skipped class, by climbing over the wall. Once on the outside, we ran to an outcrop, that was only his and mine. We harvested mussels, and then grilled them on flattened tin cans over a small fire. Later in the afternoon, when raw hunger clenched our stomachs in its grip, we baited fish with a batter of dried poison leav