Lebanon in a Picture

Putting away my dried herbs, a distant memory flashes across my mind,...

Putting away my dried herbs, a distant memory flashes across my mind,... Putting away my dried herbs, a distant memory flashes across my mind, taking me back to the days when I was about 8 or 9 years old. There was an old abandoned house not far from where my family and I used to live. It was one of the houses that had a mud roof. You might be wondering how a house with a mud roof could survive heavy rain. It was my grandfather who once explained to me that the roofs needed to be compacted on a daily basis during the winter season. My favourite pastimes were spending time with my grandfather who would let me ride his horse to collect water from the spring, 3ein, and we would sit on the corner of his roof top and talk for hours. He once told me that every mud house owner kept a Mahdali (محدلة) on their roof for the sole purpose of compacting the mud. I’m not sure what the translation of mahdali to English is but I do know that it was a long rounded stone with holes on either end to hold the steel handles. It used to weigh around 100kg. In summer the roof came alive with yellow and white flowers, camomile. Yes, camomile grew on the roof tops. The village girls and I used to climb the old creaky wooden steps to collect and dry these beautiful flowers to store away for the snowy winters ahead when we would boil the dried herb and drink it. Ouma would swear by it telling us that it was the best remedy for stomach aches. How beautiful and wise she was. 😘🌹🙏
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