Tonight for the first time since I’ve arrived in the country, my chapsitick was not complete liquid. I could get used to this weather quickly… fresh, clear and cool nights. Warm, windy days—so far, which have been lovely. The only catch is sand and dust that that lovely wind picks up. After my first day in the camp, entire face was covered in a layer of film. Throughout the day, it seems as though the crunch of dust in my teeth reminds of where I am.
Each morning, I’m awoken by strong wind, blowing on my open door and the sound of lizards hurriedly scrambling above my cloth ceiling. I’m never quite sure what animal it is exactly (I only assume by it's speed and weight that it must be those lizards), and the thought of it falling through the cloth ceiling cover wakes me up.
The desert morning is cool, cold even and gently quiet. After waking up early to my ceiling lizard alarm, I sat outside in the first sun light of the day--the only time, save dusk, where I would voluntarily try to sit in the sun--sipping on coffee and waiting for our bucker shower water to heat. No running water in Bahai means that each morning, the guards fill up a metal basin of water sitting on round fire pit. If there's wood, there's hot water. If there's not wood, cold water suffices. And for once, to feel the desire and need even for hot water, once unthinkable, seems amazing even if not feasible.
