It’s a simple life

So I find myself sitting at midnight with eight other middle aged men, minimal shared spoken language dialogue, conversing for a couple of hours. There are no family members, they have all been moved out of Darkoush and are either in the refugee camps or in neighboring Turkey. The interactions are all animated, the laughter following a successful mime is infectious. The ‘chai’ (Arabic sweet tea) flows constantly, the air thick with smoke. No bombs were heard. For a couple of hours of everyone in the room indulged in an escapism and thought of things other than the war (or revolution as is the PC term here).

Jet fuel being prepared in the morning

.

20130422-102511.jpg

20130422-153416.jpg
Transport of kings

20130422-153725.jpg

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s