Channeling that inner little boy

This evening after work, my host sister was preparing some fruit for drying. She had this big bowl with what look like little bitty plums soaking in water, and a cookie sheet with the finished cut and seeded fruit. I asked if I could help, knowing she really doesn’t like doing stuff like that, grabbed a knife and sat down. It’s summer here right now, and it’s darned hot. Though we have mountains just west of town, we’re apparently in the drought shadow. Those of you reading this in Albuquerque can probably understand this concept….depending on where you live in town, you either get rain or you don’t. Proximity to the local mountains matters. At any rate, here in my little town in Azerbaijan, we’re apparently in the “no rain” part. I read Facebook posts all the time of friends located near me who say it’s raining where they are, while I can only look wistfully at the occasional cloud scurrying away.

So we’re sitting there, halving fruit and putting it on the cookie sheet, and she asks her niece what time it is. Three hours and twenty minutes, she sighs….three hours and twenty minutes, not before she can eat…..three hours and twenty minutes before she can even have any water. During the holy month of Ramadan, the faithful who choose to fast are not allowed to eat or drink anything from about 5 in the morning until a certain amount of time after the sun sets. No tea, no bread, no water. I don’t know how she does it. Because it’s HOT and these darned summer days are LONG. And as we’re sitting there, preparing fruit, I try to get across a little empathy to her, to let her know I realize how difficult it is for her. Which, inevitably brings on one of Those Discussions.

Sən Kətoliksən?

No, I’m not Catholic, I reply.

Well, what are you?

Oh crap. This is difficult to explain to people in English and I sure as heck don’t know how to do it in Azeri.

So through lots and lots of gestures and mixed English and Azeri, I think (THINK) I get across that I think her belief in Islam is great for her, and that I believe in the energy of the Earth and connecting my internal energy with that source. At times I was trying to channel my internal little boy….you know him….the kid who can make those awesome noises with his mouth….the blowing-up noises and car noises and stuff. So I’m miming the Earth pulsing with energy (insert little boy noise here) and then gesture to myself and mime the same energy coming from me (insert same noise) and joining with the other, previously-existing energy. I can only imagine how hard she was laughing inside, but she was gracious enough not to do it to my face. Or maybe that expression of hers could be better read as semi-bewilderment. But at the end of it all, I think she actually understood.

I didn’t see her make any ‘hook-em-horns’ signs against evil, anyway.

And the fruit got processed and her burden lessened, which was basically the whole point of it to begin with. Minor awkwardnesses and increased miming skills notwithstanding.