BUILDING A BRIDGEClick on mouse to change page Raina invites me to costa coffee in dubi, a meeting of souls Costa Coffee in Dubi Since childhood I was fascinated by the stories that my parents told me, about my homeland, The Vega from Granada. Land of lush orchards, with fresh forest of poplars, ditches around the village that flowed into the river Genil. . The Genil River I keep it in my memory as our water playground, a special place in the countryside. Where children went to play and swim in the warm summer days, we liked to tackle the road, jumping over brooks, and we stopped to drink the fresh water with our hands, forming a bowl in the "Fountain of Bricks" a pure water birth, cool, clear, the murmuring of water was constant, from leaving the village to the River. La Vega from Granada Costa Coffee in Dubi Among the intricate irrigation canals, inherited from the Arabs, births, and streams to reach the backwater of the river, our river Genil. Costa Coffee in Dubi Alhambra Granada Sky from La Vega I wonder why we don’t use to remember recent things, but that over the years, our roots, told stories, keep recorded in my heart and are surfacing out of my soul. Common roots that we share with people from far away, all is matching, like a puzzle. I joy to recognize drunk with happiness souls who feel and think like me, she is far but I feel her so near. Costa Coffee in Dubi The Genil River Alhambra Costa Coffee in Dubi I mean a friend, my friend Raina, one of my friends, friends of my soul, who from her far country to me, since my childhood magical, invites me to coffee, a meeting without words. An exchange of feelings and memories of ancestors, common stories and intertwine souls. We do not need to talk, just listen to our heart and our soul, we feel us connected. I know she would like fly over the rainbow, so high…. Three Wishes Alhambra With my brushes, I will make her dream will fulfilled, a wonderful oriental dream, like in a tale, flying on her magic carpet. We enjoyed our meeting place with coffee and pastries, each from home. But both know that we are intertwined. Alhambra The Soul of the Alhambra Bazar in Granada I tell her stories which other told me. The mysteries of the Alhambra, the mountain called "The Moor's Sigh," which was where the last Moorish king Boabdil the Kid [Muhammad XI], sat down to cry for Granada. Their lost kingdom of 800 years, our Muslim jewel, although we are Christians, the air permeates oriental in Granada in its streets, its sources, our patisserie, a lot of words and our beloved Alhambra. Alhambra Costa Coffee in Dubi The tale says that when Boabdil the Kind was crying when he looked last time at Granada, his mother told him angry, weep like a woman what you did not defend like a man. They had to flee to Morocco, to an unknown Africa. Many hid their wealth, thinking to return home soon, they took the keys from their homes, property deeds, which are still preserved in an archive in Morocco. Forgotten memories, braces, maps and documents lost in the illusion forgotten of turn back home. The last view from Boabdil the Kid The Lament of the King I fantasized when I was a girl, to find some treasure, of the Muslim time, my father once found a coin. I keep a button and a metal ornament of a door which was broken down. A door which was never locked open with its key, just demolished for new residents, victorious enemies, who wiped out the crucible of wisdom, recognized throughout Europe as the most advanced for its time. Alhambra Alhambra My mother once told me that two men came to a house, it was a very old house and asked for Christian hospitality. They were Muslim men and spent the night in the house. The next day opened a map, measured with precise steps and came to a huge stone, worn smooth by the years, as part of the garden of the house. They asked permission to take it, promising to leave after like it was. To the surprise of the owners saw it as pulled a small chest. They checked if a key fitted to lock, but did not opened. Then they placed the stone same as it was. The puzzled owners, asked about what was in the chest. They never knew, because they never said, just said they were the descendants of the former owners of that house. The Surrender of Granada Alhambra I always fantasized about, with a deep attraction to these mysteries, treasures and stories of the Muslim Granada. Hoping for someday find a treasure.. Costa Coffee in Dubi The Vega from Granada Now I match all the pieces together, I feel me blessed, for that treasure I've discovered. It has been with me all my life, unknowingly, in the depths of my soul. Today with my friend Raina, I am aware that I have the most precious treasure which is priceless and can’t be bought.. Alhambra Bazar in Granada It is to love one’s neighbor, regardless of religion, country or race. I had to walk the way of life, sometimes hard, but it had to be, to learn that everyone is equal, there are no borders, we all share the same world and desires in our souls, live in peace, love and hope. Alhambra In my soul, I taste the coffee which I have been invited by Raina, hoping to embrace her someday and walk through the streets of Granada. Able to show that it is true, what a blind man shouted: <<give alms, for Christian charity, there is nothing who worse unfortunately than being blind in Granada.>> Costa Coffee in Dubi Alhambra Granada Ayla Black Amber pps by Ayla Mahler & Raina Alfardan 2010 SPAIN & SAUDI ARABIA Artist and Poetry Writer & Journalist and Photographer CONTACT: Shaji Kidan Mobile + 966 50 9195730
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