We went on the hike this past weekend. Phe ran up the mountain, and most of the way down. He is getting stronger, we all are actually. We walked through a tiny mud village about half an hour outside of Dushanbe. There’s nothing there but red mud huts and dung pies for fuel, donkeys, dogs and hay. The village is on the side of a hill. We can see into everone’s houses, their yards, their lives. A few onions and potatoes can be seen stored in someone’s crawlspace. Everything is out in the open. There is nothing to hide, because they have nothing. Still, as we rest, a woman comes out and offers up apples from her yard. The are crisp and sweeter then the ones from the market. We take three, then walk back to the car. We take turns carrying Phe when he gets tired. Then we go home.