I had very little exposure to roosters growing up. My family started
raising chickens after I'd already left for college, so I imagined
that they crowed like they do in books or movies, one nice big mighty
crow when the sun comes up over the horizon. Imagine my surprise when
we moved here! Roosters (and chickens) are just part of life here, and
even though none of the families that live in our apartment building
own chickens, there are always a few families wandering around the
building and courtyard. And roosters crow all day long. They begin
crowing at about 3 in the morning (seriously!) and don't stop until
about 6 in the evening when the sun goes down. We are fortunate to
have a fan blowing in our room so they don't wake me up anymore, but
their persistent cockadoodling used to wake me a lot. Now they just
join the familiar noises of the morning
Mornings are my favorite time of day, and here they are especially
nice. The sun comes up very early, with the sky starting to lighten
about 4 am, so not only do you have a nice beginning to your day, you
get a beautful sunrise, which I can always see from my dining room
window. Even mornings without electricity aren't so bad, since there
is light to see by and the house is cooler than the evening will be.
My alarm is set for 4:30, so I get to see the sky turning from black
to pink to light hazy blue as I read my scriptures. The sounds of
roosters crowing punctuates the quiet sounds of sweeping and breakfast
preparation from the kitchen staff around our home. No one is talking
or yelling yet. The cars aren't honking and the trucks rumble past the
road like far off thunder.
Now Dante is waking up, rubbing his eyes and padding out to sit on my
lap while I finish studying. He tells me "Good Morning" in a croaky
voice, and begins to ask for a drink of water or breakfast. Iris joins
him a bit later and I get up to make breakfast. Breakfast is always
porridge of some kind. Oatmeal, rice water, tom brown, cream of wheat,
Koko de dede (corn porridge with sugar), all with bread or biscuits
(crackers) alongside, so it's easy to prepare. Now, if it's "light
off" (no electricity) I take a large plastic bucket from the corner by
the washing machine, unlock the door and go around the corner of the
house to the polytank used by the kitchen staff for washing water. The
water is clean enough to wash with, but not clean enough to cook or
drink. My bucket lands on the cobblestones under the tap with a hollow
thud and the water trickles and flows in. Now the sky is a beautiful
light blue, with cool fresh air and clean smells of water and soap
blowing past. This is one of my favorite moments, as I wait for the
bucket to fill and feel the quiet and calm fill me.
Carrying the dripping bucket with one arm (and leaning the other arm
out for balance), I bring it slowly back inside, getting it ready for
my husband's bath and my breakfast dishes. Now the stove can be turned
down to a simmer, and I begin to dress Iris and encourage Dante to
dress himself. I know he can do it alone, but he likes to have my help
and company, and I don't mind so much.
Breakfast is eaten with the curtains closed because the sun is up and
streaming in through the diningroom windows right in my husband's
eyes. We eat, and I set the timer to help us get out the door in time
for school. All the hustle and bustle of the rest of the day begins in
earnest, and I hurry to help it along. In the middle of the day, when
the sun is hot and the traffic is smelly and the cooks are yelling
outside my door I still feel like I have a little morning quiet inside
me.
