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Aram Ronaldo (He/They)
*Glossary towards the end of this piece
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Picture Finder Game
Count the hearts and tally them up from all the drawings
My fur is multicolored. It’s usually reddish brown. But it also changes colors depending on the seasons. Brownish, whitesque, yellowsome, reddish. I’m a tanuki. Actually a rainbow tanuki. And my name is Fylysteen. Most people think I’m a fox. Or a fuzzy lap dog. I’m not though. Mistakes happen. It’s okay, I’m used to it.
Today, at the moment, I’m watching the sunset. I can see part of the moon. And a few fluffy clouds. I’m letting the action inside my building complex unfold without any tanuki interruptions. The family I live with has started the preparations for their annual card playing tournament. This year’s game, tarneeb.
Bethlehem Road Guest House is the name of the place. It’s an inn/café/bed & breakfast combo. And apparently a convention center, from time to time. In the kitchen the three tournament weekend “menu designers,” as they call themselves, are following their to-do lists. They’ll have everything ready in time. They always do. The three designers are Zeez, Teez, & Sheez. Manoushé, kibbeh, tabouleh, & dolmas, that’s all Zeez. Olives, pistachios, & mint tea... all Teez. And ma’amoul cookies: Sheez. I sit on a barstool by the open front door and listen in on all the sounds and chatter. All I want is some kibbeh. Gimme!!! But, I know, I’ll have to wait.
“This ma’amoul wand is my magick charm,” says Sheez, sitting at the kitchen table and stuffing the cookie dough with date puree, “it also makes the prettiest cookies in the world.”
“Even WITH your good luck charm, you’ve never won anything,” says Zeez, hovering by the bar counter and rolling the dolma filling into each grape leaf while waiting for the manoushé oven’s fire to blaze.
“Teehee,” giggles Teez scooping pistachios from a barell into multiple glass dishes around the room, one after another.
“So what,” Sheez ignores the comment and smilingly keeps focused with stuffing momentum, “I get the ace of hearts every SINGLE time. AND the king and queen. Every time. Now that’s what I call magick.”
“And THEN, you lose,” retorts Zeez, grabbing a wooden log and throwing it into the oven. FOOM!! The fire blazes.
“HaaaaAAAaahaaaa,” Teez spills some pistachios on the floor. CLICKITY CLACK.
I turn my head to check on this scene; see if it’s calm enough for me to cross the kitchen to the living room yet. But before I do, in walks Mariam from behind me covered in rose petals. She’s the guest house manager. I temporarily postpone my maneuvering plans.
“Fifty people are staying here over three days and two nights. More than two hundred people will be attending the tournament in our backyard, rain or shine. And you’re laughing and spilling fust’kh everywhere on the floor. Khalass. At least, though... thank the heavens... my roses are in bloom. On the bushes, across the trellis, around the archway. Perfect timing,” Mariam declares this, spinning backwards to give me a look, flicking rose petals off her wrist watch, “see?” We all see.
HONK HONK HONK!!! All of us look towards the front driveway. It’s Khalty Buza.
“Khaltyyyy!” Mariam says, half-excited and half-panicked. Khalty’s car is a relic of the automobilers’ lifestyle splitting wide open and falling apart.
Khalty gets out of the motor vehicle with a cane and a limp. And lots of swagger...“I’mmm BACK,” Khalty Buza blows a kiss directly at me.
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We’ve made it to the living room. I’m drooling. There’s hot kibbeh on the dining table, but I can’t get it myself.
“Here,” whispers Sheez and places one kibbeh ball on a teacup’s saucer for me under the table. Eeep!
“SHNYARFF,” I eat it in two bites. SLURP. Lip lickin’ good.
“Khalty, we’ve been so eager to see you. How is everything in Al-Khalil?” asks Mariam.
“Great,” says Khalty Buza, “And everyone is coming this weekend. Coming here,” she raises an eyebrow in Mariam’s direction, just checking that she is confident all around,
“They can’t wait to see me win the tournament. Finally. Again.”
“And your sayara? It’s still big. And strong. And...” Mariam runs out of adjectives.
“Isn’t this car the one that runs on hydrogen, Khalty?” asks Sheez.
“Yes. My big, strong sayara. My SHIP!!! It’s a motor car that runs on hydrogen, that’s correct. AND It has solar panels on the roof as well,” offers Khalty Buza.
“Wow. Do they even have hydrogen refilling stations on the highway stops anymore?” ask Mariam.
“They do,” Khalty continues to defend her car universe, “there are three AL-HONDA hydrogen fill-‘em-ups between here and Al-Khalil. But I know, it might be time for a change. Upgrade! Another kind of fuel, perhaps, other than hydrogen power and solar power and who knows what’s next.”
“DONKEY POWER,” yells Zeez from the kitchen.
“Fylysteen is like 50 horse power!” declares Sheez excitedly. I feel myself squinting toward the growing conversation congregation. But, after all I nod in confirmation. “Strap that harness on, and Fylysteen will dog sled your sayara over the mountains and down the freeway like the strongest pack of Alaskan huskies you’ve ever ridden...”
I shrug. Sure :)
I head to the couch where Mariam and Khalty Buza are sitting. Zeez and Teez keep up their hard work in the kitchen. CRACKLE goes the manoushé oven’s fire.It makes me feel warm all over. Sheez takes a break, and walks over to visit in the living room with Khalty and Mariam.
Sheez has questions — enthusiastic, immediate inquiries for Khalty to answer, “I hear the farmers have many new apprentices. I wish I could be studying on a farm out there near you. Maybe one day. All the university students are totally obsessed with that stuff; farming in orchards and vineyards and groves and beehives,” Sheez rambles and daydreams and we all allow it, “and lamb-sheep herding and getting the eggs from the coops of the chickens.”
Yummm... eggs. Yummm... chicken.
“Yes sweetie. The young people have enthusiasm and energy aplenty. I’m very grateful to see it more than ever before,” answers Khalty Buza.
Mariam shares their local news, brimming with innkeeper’s pride, “We get so many more tourists than ever throughout the year Khalty. Every season continues to be abundant.”
“I bet. And you’re right. Things are different lately. Even my lemon tree has more lemons on it. Here’s a picture,” Khalty Buza shows us a picture of lemons.
“WuuuUUUUuuu,” we all react aloud.
“It’s good luck,” says Khalty Buza.
“It’s good timing,” says Mariam.
“It’s magick,” says Sheez.
It is the later evening. I’m in the backyard, looking up at the trellis covered in roses of varying shades of purple blossoms. Violet? Ambrosia? Stuff like that anyway. I pick up some fallen purple-ish petals and rub them on my fur. Let’s be purple. Why not. Makeup... ish.
Zeez and Teez are sitting on the ground nibbling on a large plate of dolmas with a side of olives. They’re licking their fingers over their hard day’s work. Khalty Buza and Mariam are each holding a small steamy glass, with a glass saucer, of mint tea. They’re waiting for the tea to cool. And then they will sip it.
“I’m doing the beach bike tour,” announces Zeez.
“THIS is news to me,” says Mariam.
“Wonderful,” responds Khalty.
“The one that goes from Beirut to Port Sayeed?” asks Sheez, “From beach to beach? All along the coasts? Oh my gosh, you’ve been wanting to do that beach bike tour since forever!” cheers Sheez.
“You’ll never make it,” Mariam teases.
“Teehee,” Teez giggles and snorts and keeps nibbling on dolmas.
“Look,” Khalty Buza directs our attention to the sky.
“WuuuUUUuu,” we all look up admiringly.
“The evening star. This will guide you to your destination. Always,” Khalty sips some tea from the glass SLURRRRPP, “Look up to the heavens. When we thank the heavens and the moon and the sky... we will fulfill our destinies,” encourages Khalty Buza, “my destiny is to win the tournament tomorrow.”
“GLEEEEP,” Teez can’t help it.
Khalty continues, “Your destiny is to complete this bicycle journey of the dreams you’ve dreamed since you were a young schoolchild.”
Mariam explains, “On your bike you’ll be solar powered and wind powered,” and with demonstration reaches up both hands to the sky, “and star powered!”
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“VyuuUUUUuuu!!!” Teez falls over with giggles. I dare to lick one combo olive-and-dolma-flavored finger from Teez’s hand. And I get away with it.
“Eeep,” I peep.
Thanks evening star.
Khalty dictates, “The evening star was the goddess Inanna to the Mesopotamians. Aphrodite to the Greeks. Venus to the Romans. Ishtar to the Assyrians. And I love them. Worshipfulness. Just a little, anyway. Here and there,” Khalty Buza shares, and is inspired... and is at rest in our backyard all at once.
“Food for thought. Fuel for bike,” Mariam says to Zeez.
“Maybe,” decides Zeez, “Maybe.”
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Before going to my BELOVED pillowy bed, I wander once more over to the front porch. I look down. On the welcome mat is Mariam’s word search puzzles booklet. I flip through. It’s a handmade, multilingual issue. Some are in English, some in Arabic, and some in Armenian. Well, I suppose even adults enjoy some gaming variety. It’s not all Tarneeb. I look up. I see Khalty Buza’s car. A contrast, extreme, exposing the slow evolution away from technology to which Khalty’s generation is loosening its tight grip. I’m with Zeez. Donkey power! Until then, this metal donkey is parked out front. The machine’s shiny chrome grill and tinted windows. The cream colored gravel under its tires. The towering huge cactus right before the walkway that is a makeshift hitching post. The mountains in the distance. The olive trees on the hills. The night clouds glowing in front of the moon. And the evening star. That kibbeh was delicious. Tomorrow’s gonna be chaos... Can’t wait.
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Glossary
manoushé manaeesh مناقيش
Levantine pizza with za’atar on top
za’atar زَعْتَر
thyme and sumac and sesame seeds
kibbeh كبة
Levantine Bulgur and spiced meat
tabouleh تبولة
Levantine chopped salad made of tomatoes and parsley and cucumber and bulghur with lemon juice and olive oil and salt
dolmas տոլմա
grape leaves stuffed with rice and tomato and onion and sometimes ground meat
ma’amoul معمول
cookies stuffed with dates and shaped with a design from a magic wand
tarneeb طرنيب
Levantine card game
tanuki
Japanese raccoon dog
fust’kh الفستق
pistachio
buza بوظة
ice cream
khalty خالتي
auntie
sayara سيارة
automobile
khalass خلص
Enough
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Picture Finder Game
Total = 34
image 1, two: on Fylysteen’s shirt and on a pocket; image 2, two: both on the ace card; image 3, fourteen: on the front door; image 4, eight: on the table cloth; image 5, three: one on each playing card; image 6, zero; image 7, one: under the honey pot; image 8, one: under the rose; image 9, two: one on the seat, one in the spokes; image 10, one: on the cactus.