The hammam: steam, soap, and a long pause
The hammam in my old neighbourhood in Fez is below the level of the street. You go down five worn stone steps...
Calming evening rituals, bath traditions, breath practices, and quiet comforts borrowed from older ways of living.
The hammam in my old neighbourhood in Fez is below the level of the street. You go down five worn stone steps...
My mother in Treviso kept a deep enamel basin under the kitchen sink, and on cold evenings, when she came in from...
My grandfather in Bangalore had a reading chair. It was wooden, with a faded green cushion, and it sat next to a...
The first thing I notice when I walk into my aunt's house in Fez is the smell. It is not a perfume,...
There is a moment in my kitchen in Casablanca, around seven in the evening, when the light outside the window has gone...
My grandmother in Friuli kept a small wooden stool by the bathtub. She would sit on it sometimes, after the bath had...