In the heart of Libya lies a city. This city contains all of the remnants of what Libyan culture used to be like; how people used to live, old houses that are now empty, street names made out of marble, mosques created with the most exquisite details; you name it.
What intrigued me the most was the way the workers created fabric. Past the small tourist shops and the jewelry stores in this city lies a narrow road that leads to my great grandparents’ home. Next to this abandoned street lies what’s still remaining of the old folks who still run a business in creating traditional Tripoli-Libyan textiles.
I was lucky enough to see it. I was more than lucky when the man in charge offered to show us around, take pictures, and try to make a lil something.
This was a once in a lifetime thing.
This will be a story that I would love to share and to tell and hold onto in my memories for as long as I live.