I awoke this morning at 5 to the sound of the call to prayer in the village as well as the birds clomping around on the metal roof of the house. I was struck as always by the complexity and the simplicity of this journey we are all on. I made a cup of tea and went out to the garden that rivals eden to drink it and watch the light come up on the huge screen of the central asian sky. There is not a cloud anywhere and the wind shuffles through the grape arbor that covers a corner of the yard. We actually eat all our food from this small space. Salads and fruits materialize as if by magic. I could also hear my neighbors waking up, getting kids ready for school, sweeping the streets and the bustle that begins the day here.
Yesterday i was chatting with a lovely woman who was more than somewhat curious about what this American woman was doing here. She asked me what I did and I said I was a teacher. She flashed a smile and said. Ahhh a teacher tht is good for the children. My sister is a teacher. She said it with such respect and obvious affection i was taken aback. A small lesson in humility that indeed we are not just teachers we are Ahhhhh teachers which is something so special perhaps we should change our titles and say we are magicians?