Our guest today: Kahlil Gibran

Prayer flags, for our sanity and our country

"Speak to us of good and evil....

Of the good in you I can speak,

but not of the evil. For what is

evil, but good, tortured by its own 

hunger and thirst?"

Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

This blog is about pretending that things are okay, even if they are not. It is about imagining flight when you are stationary and bound, mostly to your own home. It is about escaping the harsh reality of feeling like a hostage of your own mind. If I could, I would have invited the whole of South Africa to this Lebanese feast. Because hell knows, we needed it. 

I promised myself not to linger on reality, but I need to say that our country has just been through quite a harsh struggle. The looting and destruction of property last month showed political shades of grey we didn't even know existed. What was real? Who are we? Truth is, that no matter how you argue the unrest,  there were only losses, fear and the dismantling of the last little bits of sanity that held us together by the straps of our masks. 

The lockdown was hard again, and we couldn't even down our sorrows with a bit of brandy. Fear dwelled in the streets while the rest were all indoors, confined to their own demons. To top it off, all of us lost loved ones and had to attend online funerals... And then the temperatures fell and with that all hope that the sun would ever shine on us again. 

"Speak to us of pleasure...

Pleasure is a freedom-song,

but it is not freedom

It is the blossoming of your desires, 

but it is not their fruit."

Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

In spite of this, I woke up on Sunday feeling ecstatic. I buried all of the above in a shallow grave in the garden, and started dancing in the kitchen as soon as I spotted the sun god Ra granting us a balmy day. (In spite of this we made a big indoor fire!) I had gentle butterflies in my stomach, and they settled there as I started preparing the starters. It honestly felt as if something big was about to happen, something like flying off to an unknown land. The day held promise like a gift, with outstretched hands. 

Every bit of the Lebanese starter was made with love, and patience, and wonder. I had a book on Middle-Eastern cooking and Karen Dudley by my side and the aubergines roasted beautifully and the Danish feta melted into the babaganush like a dream. The labneh that I thought was really hard to make, turned out to be super easy and creamy, and I was of course proud that I made it myself and didn't rush off to the nearest place in Fordsburg to buy some. Even the falafels held their form and sang to me when they were fried. Just before the rest of the tribe arrived, I scattered pomegranate seeds over everything, loudly, like love. (to quote Placebo)

Starters in the sun

Helen, Hannes, Rebecca and Zenobia arrived with that same feeling of being set free for a few hours. Escape and reprieve from our manic world could almost be touched. Kahlil Gibran watched us, as we poured him a drink of lemonade and rose water. And then we started discussing his work, and all the unknown facts about him. 

Lemonade with rose water

"Speak to us of giving...

There are those who give with joy

and that joy is their reward."

Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

The more I read about Gibran, the more I wanted to understand him. The West saw his work as simplistic, naive and lacking in substance.  In the East however he was regarded as a hero, a rebel, and a voice that spoke against the oppression of the Ottoman rule.   He was an innovator and a kind of midwife to the New Age. He is still regarded as the third most-read poet in the world. And why not? The Prophet still reads as if it could give everyone and anyone hope in harsh times. 

Bright pink barberton daisies on this beautiful table cloth ... 

When Gibran died in America, 700 of his paintings were shipped back to Lebanon, his place of birth. He gave so much! Here's my favourite:

It looks a bit like us: tattered and gasping

"Speak to us of eating and drinking....

... When you crush an apple with your teeth,

say to it in your heart: 'Your seeds shall live in

my body... and your fragrance shall be my breath

and together we shall rejoice through all the seasons.'"

Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

Zenobia crushed enough proverbial apples to feed this nation in distress. Our table was loaded with joy, texture and smell. 

Chicken with a zaatar paste, with scattered pink pomegranates

And we ate and believed again. In love and friendship, in the resilience of the human spirit. We ate and we believed in each other, in our strength and creativity. In all the good that is still out there. 

The food tasted the way I imagined Lebanon...

We opened champagne. And in our laughter the world was at peace for a couple of hours. 

Beans, barley and yoghurt... 

"Speak to us of Reason and Passion...

Your reason and your passion are the rudder 

and the sails of your seafaring soul..."

Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

When we had our dessert, a kind of passion spread over us. A passion for this abundant thread of sanity. A reason that we are here. A reason to plan, make do, cook, spread joy and be together, as friends. 

Helen's heavenly Lebanese baklava...

We ended our meal with strong coffee, and a will to carry on again. And as I write this, the promise of spring fills the air. 

Extras as always...

• This played at Mauritz's aunt's funeral. It grabbed me by the throat...

• Just because it was mentioned, here's Placebo's 'Loud as Love...'

• During the planning of this day, @sahtein_lebanesefeast was by my side the whole time. She is a true inspiration and her food is from a higher plain. Check her out on Instagram
• If you want to see what I am up to in between our get-togethers, you can follow me on instagram @merlegrace108