Talking with my Lebanese housemate over a pot of pomegranate tea, he was telling me some stories of his childhood in a war-torn Lebanon.
Aside from the very justifiable (and unanswerable) questions he would ask his mother – Who are these people that are bombing us? Why do they want to kill us? – he told me a wonderful story of the sound of heavy rain (!!)
To supplement their wartime ration of water, his family would set out all manner of tins and receptacles to catch rainwater. When it did rain, there would be the most miraculous, melodious sound coming from outside – all those containers with their various pitches and tonal qualities producing a beautiful, life-giving symphony that was different every time. As my housemate puts it, ” a sound that you’ll hear just once in your life”. In his heart, I think he can still hear that sound very clearly.