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A Bedouin Family
I saw this man was walking in the desert. The wind was shaking his keffiyeh, the sand blowing in the air. Along with two young boys, he took us for a camel ride at sunset. These Bedouins were enjoying the wind, the sun, and the sand, in a way I can't anymore: deeply and slowly, no rush whatsoever. “Can I take a picture of you?” With a gesture, he tells me to wait. Then he calls his sons. One at the right, one at the left. He holds his Tasbih in his hands, Muslim prayer beads. He’s now finally ready to pose. Bedouins own pretty much nothing. Not even the land they live in. They are practically nomads. When I asked the father to take a picture of him, the only things he chose to show who he was were his sons and his faith. I wonder if we are capable of establishing priorities this clearly, if we can describe ourselves by just referring to our faith and the people we love and who love us.

© Anna Raisa Favale