After I got left in the desert, they took me to visit a friend. (Apparently her family lived "behind the mountain", as opposed to my other friend, who lived "beside the mountain". Oh, ok. It's all so clear now.) The timing was great, because I really needed to tell someone my story. She had been attacked by a homicidal donkey that day. It freaked out when it couldn't see its mistress and tried to push her off a cliff.
They let us talk in private for awhile, and gave us some snacks. Half-way through a packet of something seedlike and orange, she asks me, "Are we supposed to be eating the shells?" And I look at her and say, "Are we...not supposed to be eating the shells?" We definitively concluded that they might be sunflower seeds, and that we may or may not be supposed to be eating their entirety. It was one of those anecdotes that seemed to capture the tone of the entire experience.
We left with a little girl named Haneen. A few hours later I figured out she was ours.
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