S. comes back from XX (Thursday Oct 26th)

So the night we came home, S’s dishes were left on her counter and her clothes still in the washer. We couldn’t reach her by mobile and of course, some of us panicked… just a little. But as it turns out, she got an invitation to visit XX. I didn’t go so I can’t write much about it, but it turns out that the experience was worth coming here for. XX is a refugee camp for Kurds from Turkey… but apparently there is also some affiliation with a local political party – something M didn’t know as she sat on the floor the clay/brick houses (with makeshift plastic sheet windows) with the locals, drinking their water, eating from plastic table clothes rolled out on the floor and listening as they sang and conversed in Kurdish. Total immersion… and the total opposite experience of those of us who were living high in Diyarbakir.