Up, up, up. The car groans and shakes to continue climbing its upright path like a hand shaking the sky, small drops of dew condensing on the glass to slide or stick, waiting for the wiper. Layers of fog envelope the narrow mountain road, defying the lights of the lonely car that makes its way with great difficulty in the darkness of the night.

"I don't understand how these people can leave the whole wide land of God to squat on top of a mountain like an elongated thousand."

The car moans, groans, gasps, shakes, shakes, shakes, shakes.

A cow suddenly jumps in the middle of the road and freezes, staring at the lights of the car, which has no trouble stopping.

"Tat. Tat. bang, bang, bang, bang. "The cow didn't move, she lifted her tail, waved it, twisted her neck the other way and chewed something in her mouth.

 "Tat. Tat. Tat. " The horn still insisted on the car's right of way. An old man appeared and pointed his stick at the cow, which ran off and disappeared into the fog and darkness.

• "Peace be upon you . . "The old man pointed his stick and shouted, I stretched my neck out of the car and said: "Alaikum as-salam, may God's mercy and blessings be upon you. Is this the way to the star of the mountain?"
• "Of course. Of course. The last village on this road." He pointed his stick at the heart of the darkness.
• - "How many kilometers are you from here?"
• - "Kilometer? I don't know how many kilometers. meter, but walk until you reach the end of the road upstairs..."

I hit the gas pedal hard and the car took off on its own, twisting and turning and swerving left and right with no hope of getting anywhere, when it came upon an orphaned lamppost under which stood a blue sign that read, "The Mountain Star Village Council welcomes you."

"Now I just have to ask any passerby on the road."

The fog was slowly lifting and the stars were shining in the sky. The town square was empty of anything, and the only street was desolate except for a stray dog wandering here and there, which soon turned into a door that suddenly opened and light poured in, dispelling the darkness of the street. The man standing in the door threw something, accompanied by a foul insult towards the dog, which howled in pain and left the place with a limp.

• "Good evening, brother!" My voice rang out over the roar of the engine.

The man at the door was silent for a moment and then said: "Evening Al-Noor, you seem to be a stranger to this country." He pointed to the license plate of the car.

• "Yes, and I need a favor from you, please. I want you to show me the house of Muhammad al-Ali."

The man looked at me as if examining something, then turned his head to the right and the yellow light reflected on the right side of his face, "You must be joking, no doubt. Half of the men in this village are named Muhammad al-Ali and the other half are Ali al-Mohammad, which one are you asking?"

• "Really? I hadn't thought of that before." "Anyway, he's a guy about my age and . " He interrupted me:
• "And I think you're going to tell me he walks on two legs and has eyes in his head."
• - "Of course. Of course. "If you let me finish, you would know that he was my classmate when we were studying abroad and ..." I laughed and continued. "He interrupted me again and said:
• - "Ah, you mean Mr. Muhammad al-Ali. Of course I know him."

I turned off the car's engine and said with a smile:

• "I thought you said half the men in the village were named Muhammad al-Ali."
• "Yes, but there's only one professor. Anyway, why don't you come in instead of sitting in your car like this?" He said as he leaned against the window ledge of the car in front of him.
• - "Thank you, just show me theI have his house and you have my thanks."
• –      "Okay," he paused and squinted one eye as if trying to solve a dilemma that had eluded him, "Which house do you want, his own, or where he lives now?"
• - "I want to see him."
• "Then you have to walk to the end of this road and go a little bumpy until you reach a round dirt square surrounded by almond trees." There you will find the house of Abu Muhammad's father, Ali al-Mohammad."
• - "But I want Ustad Muhammad al-Ali, not Abu Muhammad's house." I said, growing impatient.
• - "I know. I know, the professor has been living there since his brother got married and moved into their old house."
• - "Ah, now I get it, good night.”

The engine once again disturbed the restful night's rest and the car took off amidst the protests of the man who still insisted that I honor him in his home, to do the duty of hospitality.

The car was forced to pull itself up again, but with more difficulty and a steeper climb, and soon the asphalt was gone and the car was bouncing on gravel and stones that shot like bullets from under the tires in all directions.

An open land surrounded by almond and olive trees, a house on the right with an extended terrace in front of it, on which a silent ghost stood, whose face was soon illuminated by the car's lights as it turned to line up properly.

"Welcome guest. Hey, hello. " shouted the one standing on the terrace.

• "Hello, Uncle, God bless you."
• "God bless you with the lights of the Prophet. Here you go. Here you go. "

The car's engine went silent, the echoing stopped, and the cold wind blew through the leaves.

• "Is the professor there?" I asked.
• "exists. There is. Here you go, God bless you."

I got out of the car and shook hands with the man in his loose pajamas, the house lights came on, the kids peeked out of the door, and the women stood behind the window glass watching.

• "Who, Abu Ali? Insha'Allah is good." A ghost peered out from the roof of the house inquiringly.
• "Good. Good. Professor, a guest of yours."

Within moments, we were hugging each other, "What good wind has brought you to us?"

• "The truth is, to get to your village, you need a hurricane, not a wind." I said and we laughed.
• "I can't believe my eyes, after all these years we meet?" Mohammed said.
• –      " Imagine, and where, between heaven and earth. It is true, "God is all-powerful." " I said and we laughed a laugh that awakened sweet memories.
• - "Here you go. Come in. "Before you swear to divorce," Mohammed said as he led me to the stairs of his house and resumed his words to Abu Mohammed, "you are my guest, even if you divorce all the women of the village, and take the tea upstairs."

We climbed the dark staircase, feeling the rough wall for fear of falling, and found ourselves on a bare rooftop except for a single restroom and an orphaned room that my friend led me to through the open door.

"Here you go. There you go. Sit down. Sit down. The room is not fine." And he laughed.

I wanted to sit on the only chair in the room, which was more like a mutilated wooden table, but my friend insisted that I sit on the bed, so I moved the overstuffed quilt and made room for myself.

" Welcome, welcome. Welcome, welcome, welcome. "Mohammed kept repeating without interruption, then he walked out of the room towards the edge of the roof and called out, "Tea, boys. Tea quickly . . "

I look around the room. The brick wall is bare of mortar, a light bulb hangs from the nearby ceiling with a short red cord, the window is blocked by a transparent nylon sheet, the door is a wooden frame to which tin sheets have been attached, and the only furniture in the room is the bed and table, sorry, I mean chair, a huge pile of newspapers scattered in one corner, and a mismatched set of colored plastic water jugs lined up against the wall next to the door.

Mohammed entered the room saying:

- " Welcome, welcome. Welcome, welcome, welcome. What a loyal friend you are. How did you remember me after all these years?"

• "A friend is a friend, whether in the Mountain Star or in New York, friendship is a rare commodity in this day and age, and so we must preserve it wherever it is."
• " True... It's true. But where have you been all these years, and what happened to you?"
• - "Nothing important," I said, "As usual, after graduation, I got an opportunity through one of my acquaintances to work in a large bank in the Gulf, and because I have a master's degree in accounting, I was promoted in my job quickly and my financial situation improved, so I got married and now I have a son and two daughters, and my affairs are doing well, thank God."
• - "Excellent. Excellent. Very nice. And what reminded you of me after all these years?"
• - "You're always on my mind, but I only come back from the Gulf on short vacations, and I didn't know where you were after all these years, and even my visit to you tonight was an uncertain adventure, I wasn't sure I would find you here."
• –      "Why is that? I have not left this village since graduation, planted here like the oldest olive tree in it, stubborn against time, or maybe it is time that stubborn against me." And he laughed.
• - "What can a young man like you with a master's degree in accounting do in this remote village? " I asked incredulously.

"Professor. Uh-huh. Professor. . "A soft female voice came from the darkness, "Tea. . Tea is ready. " A girl's face peeked out of the door, curious and exploratory.

Mohammed got up from his chair and quickly returned with the tea, put the tray on the floor, and poured the tea into the two cups, making white bubbles on the surface as he smiled and said:

• "The sweetest tea over charcoal for the sweetest friend in the world."
• "Who is this girl?"
• - "Who?"
• - "The one who brought the tea."
• - "It's beautiful."
• - "Is she really like that?"

He laughed and chuckled and then turned around and said:

• "Her name is Jamila, not her adjective, and it seems that her parents gave her this name in the spirit of optimism." He returned to laughing, then picked himself up to say, "Imagine. Imagine. "She wants to marry me even though she is only fourteen years old." And he laughed again.
• "You mean you're not married yet?"
• - "Would I have lived in this silo if I was?"

I don't know how his words prompted me to look at the room again, only to find it even more miserable and impoverished.

• "My friend, briefly, though nothing is brief in this place or time, I can summarize my post-graduation story with the view you see in the corner of the room there." He pointed to the pile of old newspapers.

Noticing my confusion, he said:

• "You don't seem to have had this experience, so you don't understand what I meant." "These newspapers publish recruitment announcements and news of appointments, and during the past years I was not lucky with a job except for one time when the Ministry of Health called me for appointment as a cashier at a health center in a remote desert area, with a salary not enough for road expenses, and since that day I turned my back on jobs and went into commerce."
• "That's great, commerce is a great way to make a living, but what commerce in your remote village?" I wondered curiously.
• –      "Excellent trade, supporting the national economy, self-sufficiency, food security, and above all providing hard currency, it is a very profitable trade."
• - "Wonderful. Very cool. This is what I've been looking for for a long time. So let's utilize your expertise in this field." I said excitedly.
• –      "How so?"
• - "I can raise a decent amount of money from me and my colleagues, and with your expertise in the field of trade, we can cooperate in an excellent investment project, but you didn't tell me what this trade is that does all these things."
• - "Cows."
• - "Are cows a business?"
• –      "Of course, haven't you ever wondered how I managed to support myself all these years without a job?"
• - "Who are the cows? "
• - "Of course, thank God I have a dairy cow that I milk twice a day, morning and evening, and I sell her milk, I sell the calves too, even her dung is sold, can you believe it? And above all, the cost is very low because our pastures are natural and available throughout the year."

LI don't know how I got a sudden chill, so I folded my arms together to seek some warmth and looked at the window where the cold air was trying to break through the nylon.

• "You seem to have cooled down, even though it's summer, a few minutes and I'll be back." He left the room and returned a few minutes later carrying a plate with a fire inside and thick smoke coming out of it and put it in front of me saying:
• "This fire will warm you." He stirred the wood to make it burn faster.

I coughed incessantly and tried to avoid the choking smoke that filled the room.

• "Don't worry, in a few moments the wood will turn into embers and all that smoke will be gone." "You know what," he said, "I'm sure your face is good for me."
• "How so?" I asked, trying to extract some oxygen from the blackened air.
• - "Tonight my cow will give birth and I'm sure she will give birth to two calves, not one, to celebrate your arrival."
• –      "Thank you." I replied with difficulty, trying to breathe.
• - "Drink tea. . Drink, I'll heat it up for you." He placed the teapot on the plate.

"Hey, Professor. . Professor . . " The girl's voice came from outside, "Professor. . Professor. . Mubarak. Mubarak. My father tells you that the cow has given birth to two calves. "

He jumped up and down with joy, "See, didn't I tell you that your face is good for me?"