I’ve been meaning to extend this moment, but every time the idea crosses my mind, the power’s out. It’s different being somewhere where the electricity’s gone at least once a day. Sometimes more. In fact, my mother’s aunts have had no electricity for two days once. When the power’s out, it also means that there is no access to wifi, TV, the oven, a good amount of water supply, and anything that can be plugged in. It sounds kinda crazy, but this has been happening for a while now.
After a couple weeks of blinking lights and beautiful chaos, I see the opportunities that I’ve been given and remember that what I have in America is what many people here want; to live life and taste it without interruptions and worries.
During these blacked out hours, emergency torches and primus lanterns scatter the house. Everyone uses their phones as flashlights as our nights begin playing like a mastered undone symphony. The Uno cards come out of the younglings’ pockets and the older family members speak and laugh and eat and sip their warm tea.
It’s hard, yes. But people make the most of what they have, and that’s all that someone can do.
”The electricity comes. The electricity goes. And this is life.” -My Mother
Across my great grandparents' home lies a world of traditional textiles.
calm waters & jumping waves
Libyan white dress occasions
Taking pictures of the moon