Our daughter is passionate about riding horses in the Palmeraie, where she grew up. Since the age of 11 she has had a horse, Lalezan (a French word that means chestnut-colored, originally from the Arabic áṣhab, "reddish, reddish-brown"). A few years ago, Lalezan went through rough times. He caught a very contagious cough, and had to be isolated at the riding stables. Then he wounded his leg.
After a European trained veterinarian said he would never recover, a limping, emaciated Lalezan came home to Jnane Tamsna for his final days. Not giving up hope we opted for another path: a traditional healer came with medicinal herbs, oils and ointments, bringing home the legacy of ancient veterinary science in Morocco. Little by little the wounded leg healed and the limping faded. Lalezan gained weight, his chestnut hair and former spirit returned.
One day as I was driving back home, I saw him galloping in the Palmeraie outside our house and jumping over bushes. Our daughter had returned to the saddle. The coexistence of cultures and beliefs in our Palmeraie life never stops amazing me.