Alf Layla & Layla (1001 nights)

Written from the perspective of a young girl observed in the restaurant

It’s 1am and I’m still up. I’m with my family (and that means all my aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents) at the restaurant, Alf Layla & Layla. I’m sure you’ve heard of the story of 1001 (or Arabian) Nights – this restaurant is named after it. We're all sitting around tables in the courtyard of an old Damascene house. (See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1001_Nights)

The musician singing and playing the oud (lute) up front seems so nice – he is always smiling. He is playing Syrian and Lebanese folk songs that people here go wild for; all my uncles like to raise their hands and dance and clap to these songs. Everyone is having such a good time, it makes me want to dance too!

I just saw my parents dancing up in the front, so I went to them. My dad picks me up and dances with me. What fun – I can’t help but laugh and imitate them by twirling my wrists and nodding my head to the music. When he puts me down, I wander up front to where the musician is playing and stand by his knee. He smiles at me and everyone is still clapping to the music while they down Arak. (See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arak_(liqueur))

There are some foreigners in one corner of the restaurant who seem to be having fun. They are sharing an Argeelah, or water pipe. The one who looks Syrian seems to be showing the others how to pass the mouthpiece of the water pipe politely. There are lots of unwritten rules about these kinds of things. But since I’m still small, I can basically do whatever I want for now. Lucky me!