The folk in the village of Aru,
Had eyes fixed on us both like glue,
Their eyes shining, open wide,
As they're sitting side by side.

The granny's there, old, toothless and bent.
Her happy life is almost spent,
But still, just now and once a while,
She looked at us and gave a smile.

Whatever it was they were trying to say,
We never knew before on our way.
Their hospitality was ever so warm,
Amidst those mountains tall and calm.

We waited for three hours and more
Before Habib's donkey man we saw,
Then off we strode with just a wave,
To walk, eat and sleep midst memories saved.

For Roxana, Musaka a place called home.
For us it was a stepping stone.