We, Siwa,
we chose to go to Redeyef.
The locals, they came to us.
Redeyef, a strange archive of forms,
of echoes from a time long passed.
A trip to Redeyef with Siwa, 2015, photo: Fakhri El Ghazal
In its poems, in its songs, in its dances,
the archaic in dialogue with the contemporary.
Here, our gestures meet theirs.
Their bodies, their voices, their rhythms
cross ours, generating a space
and a time where everything is to be reinvented.
From here we embark on the thread of a story.
Their story, our story.
We, Redeyef?
