A few years ago, I traveled, as I have done every year, to my natal oasis Lamhamid in Southern Morocco’s Anti-Atlas Mountains, accompanied by my second-grade daughter. Her childhood curiosity questioned the absence of homeless people in our poor village, in contrast to affluent Los Angeles where we currently reside. The desert nurtures community, I told her – we all need each other. Growing up, I experienced community as an ethic of care: families shared dates and tea while Muslims watched over the Jewish cemeteries of their erstwhile neighbors. As I left my oasis and moved across the world, I carried this ethic of care within, eventually making my professional calling the study of Jewish-Muslim relations.
Living in the desert, I experienced various forms of scarcity: water, food, clothing, books. Nonetheless, I learned to appreciate the balancing scales of gratitude. Each year, I bring my daughter to Lamhamid to reflect on such contrasts and cultivate her understanding, but our visits have been equally crucial for me and my search for balance in our chaotic world. Lamhamid houses my emotional scales, shaping perspectives and guiding choices. It has endowed me with a sense of comfort, despite the challenge and disruption of migration.
My village has taught me the significance of nurturing emotional well-being. It has instilled in me humility, patience, and above all, empathy. These qualities have empowered me to contemplate global affinities and disparities as I navigate the spaces between Los Angeles and the oasis of my childhood.
Today my compass aligns with the magnetic field of my oasis. I continue to draw life lessons from community experiences, and in the process, remain connected to my roots. This equilibrium has allowed me to learn from other cultures and faiths while appreciating my humble background. I hope it will have the same impact on my daughter’s life.
Aomar Boum is the Maurice Amado Chair in Sephardic Studies and Professor of Anthropology, History and NELC at UCLA. aomarboum.com
