Gratitude Series: An Ode to the Western Desert and a Letter to a Dentist Who Once Lived There

For the month of November, I am sharing one gratitude letter each week. The letters trace a specific time period, the Spring of 1999 through the Winter of 2000. You can read my preface to this series here. Also, check out the first and second (which I originally expected to publish AFTER this letter) gratitude letters.

The Western Desert

Hot, sticky attempts at afternoon naps
New words and phrases racing through my mind
Salaam-Alaikum, Shukraan, Afwan, Ata-Kalam A’arabi shewaiya.

The constant whirring of an ineffective fan
The rhythmic tick-tick as its cord hits the light, off, as if that might reduce the heat and bring forth sleep a little more easily.

Exhaustion from the fever that is the Western Desert in August tangles with the mental fatigue of a new place with signs that can’t be read, masses that see me as other, and the long morning hours of study in order to begin to cut through it all.

To be able to buy toilet paper without using gestures, ice cream without mispronunciations that invite a kiss, water without incident.