Noise

Arabs are loud. They like to listen to their music loudly. The men speak loudly. The women wear big and bold colors and shapes. They are big and bold colors and shapes. The absence of this noise to the untamed ear is soothing and delightful, but to an Arab noise is a much appreciated companion that makes life zesty. Everything has a distinct sound; the gas truck, the neighbor's pigeons cooing and cocks crowing, cotton candy guy, vegetable trucks, and everything in between. About a week ago, I was at the vegetable souq minding my business and bustling about finding everything that I needed for our Thursday meal when I stumbled upon a lovely scene.

There was a tomato vendor and his friend, who was naturally a cucumber vendor. As they were cleaning loose dirt off of the vegetables, they sang portions of a little song about their bandoorat w kheear. They sang about how cheap and fresh their produce was and alternated between verses and stanzas. It was so entertaining to me that I caught myself just listening while I gathered suitable cucumbers and tomatoes. I wish that I could have videotaped. Although I do get tired of all of the constant noise, it definitely adds character and flavor to my days. Like the dirt that constantly browns my feet, there is a point when one just has to embrace it and realize it isn't going anywhere, so enjoy it.