At eight in the morning the sun gets through the glassless windows in full swing into the room, where there are only two people now. The couple seem to have got up already; their mattress is no longer there. Their grandson is gone too. I remember then what I read yesterday in the log book, that they go to walk the sheep at about six in the morning.
H. is saying her prayers standing up, with her eyes closed and swinging her body from time to time.
When H. finishes praying we put all the mattresses and blankets in the corner where it seems they are to be kept and I help her preparing breakfast, which consists of tea made with herbs collected in the area.
Stacked against one of the walls there is a pile of sacks full of what turns out to be flour, with the word USAID written on each of them. When we finish breakfast H. grabs one of them and spills some flour on an old sack opened, on the floor. She then grabs another sack and spills some more flour. This one is darker. She is going to make bread with white and wholemeal flour mixed together.
When she finishes, she puts the bread away and I help her clean the floor where she has been working. We then go to the adjacent room where her parents are. After a bit more chilling out time we share our food and then the father goes away.
The three of us stay, in this house, without electricity or heating. The mother is sewing, the daughter is washing the dishes and I am writing on my diary.
