My Algerian vacation is entering its last and most hectic days... I spent today visiting my childhood village and it was quiet a visit... emotional !! Walking down my childhood paths and trails brought back all the good and bad memories.. the trails are all overgrown and dug-out by the rains and snows.. I ran into older friends from the village that I have not seen in over 40 years, we all aged but some better than others... after the village we headed to the cemetery to see my mom’s grave and all others... visiting graves has become a ritual for me to remember the departed and to remind myself that time on this planète is short and soon I will join them. As we say in our culture when addressing the dead “you are the departed and we are coming”... my mom’s grave is not easily identified as she died some 52 years ago.. her grave is over taken by grass and weeds.. following this rather sad and emotional visit to the cemetery, we went back home for a break. Late in the afternoon, we headed to meet my middle sister in another town. The meeting was very brief ... the day came to an end with tea and watermelon...
A big gap between two mountains
A Berber village near a mountain top
The valley and villages in a distance
The rocky northern Atlas Mountains near my village
A small walkway in the middle of my childhood village
The famous olive under which I spent countless hours playing games and telling stories. If only this tree could talk, it will tell all my stories...
The cemetery where my mom’s final resting place is located: REST IN PEACE MOM!
The fertile land down in the valley bellow my village. I used to roam this land looking after cows and sheep. Those were the days that made me who I am now...
A view of my village in a distance hidden between the trees...
