BREAKFAST AND THE FLY

Before my fateful vacation into Pakistan and India, I had bought l and |/2 cords of wood for my stove and water heater to get me through the winter. I had always liked the smell of wood because my father had been a carpenter and was always sawing pine, maple, oak, or walnut around the house; or he would come home from a day's work covered with the sweet aroma of wood.

Making my fire every day was not work, but became a sweet ritual that I looked forward to. I remember one very cold day when Touryalai came over to visit. I got the fire lit and my little stove roaring, and suddenly this fly came flying out of the wall made from the straw-like material. I immediately ran to swat it, swearing every time I missed. Touryalai just laughed, and told me, "You worry too much about the fly." I guess he was right, and I forgot about the fly, until the one time I was invited to have breakfast with Touryalai and his family.

I was honored to be a guest. Of course, the girls and young women kept themselves at a distance, but not Touryalai and his brothers. I sat down on the floor facing a fire in the center of a room. The mother of Touryalai broke at least 2 dozen eggs into a huge frying pan that was sizzling with buttery Gee. I greatly appreciated the amount being prepared. Chickens and eggs were like gold in Kabul.

As I waited for breakfast, Touryalai's mother walked out to a small sheltered room. Inside was one light. I stared for a long time at the electrical wire from which a single light bulb dangled. I kept looking. Did I see what I really thought I saw? It looked like the wire was covered by a thick row of flies. This just couldn't be, I thought to myself. I got up and walked to this small room. The wire, indeed, was covered with flies. Were they sleeping? Were they hibernating? It was an unusual and unbelievable sight. I gained new respect for THE FLY. A few years earlier I had checked out the only two books at the University of Colorado on THE FLY. One book was called THE FLY. The other one was a technical book on the biology and physiology of THE FLY. I remembered one important fact, and that was that the majority of flies ate nectar; but the impulse of most humans is TO KILL THE FLY...the dirty fly...William Blake's fly!