After midnight, the fishermen of my small coastal village, located at the farthest point on the map of the Delta in Egypt on the Mediterranean coast, pant for our vast, rich lake. Their women run after them, carrying their provisions of simple food to last them for the duration of their absence, along with the nets they use to catch fish. The quality and quantity of their catch vary depending on the size of their boats, the distance they sail, the type of nets they use, and the length of their stay at sea or lake. Some stay a day, others a week. Therefore, they carry their provisions according to the needs of their pre-planned absence: simple food, clothing, or fuel for the kerosene stove carried with them in the same small aluminum basin, along with other necessities sufficient for the men's needs until their return, usually close to the afternoon call to prayer. They carry with them their harvest from the fishing to distribute among the fish shops, or the women take it to the market in the same small basin to sell. Although my life has now been in Geneva, Switzerland for many years, I still dream about them and other scenes from my childhood every day, holding sovereignty over my memory and consciousness, both when I'm awake and when I'm asleep. How did life take "Nidaa" from her village on the outskirts of the Delta in Egypt to Switzerland? Together we take the journey with novelist Amani Al-Qassas in her first novel, "A Girl and Two Lakes."