The Village part one

القرية

الجزء الأول

At about 3000 metres above sea level, the village sits precariously glued onto the near vertical Southern rockface of the towering plateau.

Its narrow little streets running between the small square brick and cinderblock houses are but a collection of steep harrowing stairs carved out of the cliff. The houses, build onto the precipice, are stacked on top of each other—the roof of the house below, functioning as the terrace of the house above it.

At first glance this place appears abandoned and swallowed by time. Though walking up the little steps that lead into it, the village soon reveals ample evidence that it is in fact teeming with life.

Muffled Berber voices come from deep within dark windows—colourful curtains softly swaying in the wind. Smoke rises from chimneys. Food wrappers lay scattered. So does fresh donkey dung.

Chicken sound in the distance and a small kitten scampers over the rooftops of the houses below, closer to the valley floor, where a rectangular terracotta masjid minaret rises above the orchards at the foot of the cliff.

School children sing and laugh on some other side of the village, beyond a curve in the plateau rockface. They start drumming on a tambourine and a slow rhythmic beat echoes through the narrow streets.