A Day in the Life: Naughty Cats and Rebellious Chickens

My mother-in-law, Nayfa, with her sister-in-law, Hannan

Today was a pretty typical day here in Thahryieh, filled with the necessary daily chores, a few visitors, and the occasional flurry of something unexpected. The morning begins early with the Athan blasting out of various minarets at dawn. At the Mosque closest to us, a young boy is allowed to recite the Athan, so this boy, so proudly remembering the lines, wakes me. My boys are also now awake and are completing their all-important wardrobe selection which consists of choosing the color of clothes that look most like the super hero they want to pretend to be that day. We venture downstairs to find Raed’s mother, Nayfa, or Umm Raed (mother of Raed) as she is called out of respect here) cooking breakfast, my favorite meal of the day here. There is freshly made hummus, sliced cucumbers and bell peppers, fresh olives, stewed tomatoes, Zatar (dried oregano and sesame seeds), and best of all, the fresh flat bread that she makes daily.

After breakfast the sun is beating on the rooftops of the town, and the day heats up quickly despite the continuous breeze. We sit and drink the obligatory after-breakfast cup of sugary hot tea with fresh mint before beginning the barrage of clean-up that inevitably awaits. After breakfast, the women busy themselves with whatever chores need doing that day such as laundry, preparing for the evening meal, cleaning, etc., and it seems the men always have some errand to run in a nearby town, which serves as a nice excuse to get out of the house for a bit, I suppose. Bucker and Zak are long gone to the homes of Raed’s Aunts that line the street. They roam freely from house to house visiting and playing with the kids at each house, and most likely getting contraband sweets along the way.

The day was turning out to be pretty calm and quiet until Bucker, who happens to have a great obsession with the wild cats running around the neighborhood, starts bragging that he has "locked a cat up to be his pet." Judging from the amount of excitement in his voice, I deem it best to go see the situation for myself. Sure enough, he has lured one of the pitifully skinny stray cats behind a door and locked him inside. The only problem is that the area in which Bucker chose to imprison the cat is also where Um Raed keeps her live chickens! The terrified cat is poking his snout through the holes in the metal door trying to escape in vain and squalling in that mournful, deep-throated meow that only cats experiencing the highest degree of terror can produce. I then decide it’s best to try a rescue attempt, so I go inside with the cat, which only serves to scare the cat more and send him darting toward the chickens. The cat traverses the wall that keeps the chickens contained and lands in a flurry of very angry, clucking and fluttering chickens who manage to scare him up into the window above where he sits, refusing to budge.

At this point, I’m dumbfounded. I’m not for sure, but I think cats can eat chickens, so I know I can’t leave the cat in the window above the chickens, but I have no idea how to get him out without sending him back down into the mosh pit of chickens below, and I’m not about to touch the mangy looking creature, who looks wild-eyed and ready to sink his claws into anything that gets within a five-foot radius. Finally, I swallow my pride and reluctantly concede that it’s time to admit my dilemma to Um Raed.

Without missing a beat, she marches over and swings open the heavy metal door to the chicken area, grabs a broom, and heads toward the cat. She shoos both Bucker and me out of the room, so I don’t exactly see what happens, but I hear loud meows,  vigorous clucking, and some Arabic words that I’m guessing one reserves for moments like these. Shortly thereafter, a streak of white and tan shoots past us and out the door, followed by Um Raed, holding her head high and her broom in her hand. “Khalas” she says, which means “that’s it”, and she then returns to her work as if nothing had happened, victorious and unfazed. That’s my mother-in-law.

The day continues in a much less eventful fashion, except for a rogue chicken that attempted escape the blade and flew across the street and into Raed’s Aunt Hanan's sitting room. As evening fell, we ate Mulheyiah, which is one of my favorites, and is made from a green plant that is then chopped up beyond recognition and served as a soup poured over rice and baked lemon and garlic flavored chicken. Because the food is filling, and usually accompanied by large amounts of bread and salad, we only eat two meals per day, and the later meal is typically in the late afternoon, so evenings are usually free to visit or to entertain guests. 

As darkness falls, a handful of relatives meander up the road to visit, and the tea and coffee rounds begin as we share stories of the day and perhaps a bit of harmless gossip. We sit on embroidered covered mattresses on the floor, which makes for pretty comfortable and relaxed seating. These visits can run pretty late, but no one really seems to mind or to be concerned with work or school the following day. Typically, after the visits are over, the immediate family sits and continues the discussions until they fall asleep where they lie or surrender and decide to go to bed. 

The night breeze is cool, and blows continuously over the quiet hillsides. For now, peace and calm blanket the house...at least until the dawn Athan!