Smiles from the wedding photos.

You don't choose your family. They are God's gift to you, as you are to them. ~Desmond Tutu

Thursday I was talent. Or untalent, as I choose to say it.

The other group made their selections on who was going to be on camera when we visited the cheesemaker, Elpida. Aaron and I were the lucky ones. (I hope, for their sakes, there was some usable footage.)

While the process is interesting, time-consuming and rather smelly, that wasn't the aspect of the day that interested me the most. It was the woman who does this weekly and her family.

At one point, I got thirsty (of course!), so Aaron and I followed Constantia (our translator and a GLS coordinator) inside to get water. While in there, I noticed a framed puzzle hanging on the wall. I just had to ask about it. Elpida explained (through Constantia) that her daughter loved working puzzles so much so that she was "obsessed."

"Would you like to see more?" Constantia asked.

Well, of course. So we followed them into the living and dining rooms where we saw three or four more framed puzzles that were each at least few thousand pieces. Being an avid puzzler myself, I was kind of amazed at this.

On the table lay another puzzle, which appeared finished, but it was probably in that waiting stage. By this, I mean that period where you decide if you truly like it enough to glue, frame, and hang the puzzle or prefer to take it apart for a later time.

The walls also held photos of her children from their respective weddings or with their families. My favorite was the photo of her on her wedding day. There was one of her with her husband, as well, but the one of just her seemed very classic and hauntingly beautiful.

It was black and white (probably more from the timing than for artistic effect). She had a large, beautiful dress on and dark lipstick. On her face, there was a beautiful and genuine smile. There was just something about it.

I loved this photo because it showed a different side of this woman than the one we have been seeing. It made her more human in a way. Cheesemaking may now be her job but it wasn't her life. It's not what makes her human and real.

That humanity comes when she speaks of her children and grandchildren. This sensation of life showed up in her face when she talked about her daughter's love for puzzling or she encouraged her granddaughter to "be a good girl" because she was going to be on camera. It appeared when she brought out food or spoke of her wedding pictures.

Our documentary is on food; the point of the day was on the cheese, but it's more than just that. It's about the people. Their lives, their livelihoods, their entire stories.

She revealed to us that her daughters both live in close proximity to her (like in her yard) and her son is in the next village. They seemed to be a close-knit family, as I imagine many of the families in Cyprus are.

To many Americans, the concept of being in your grandmother's backyard or her next-door neighbor is a bit crazy. To me, it's normal. While some members of my family are a bit farther away, a large portion of my closest neighbors also happen to be related to me. I suppose this is why she stuck with me so much.

As we wrapped up filming, her family began descending on the place. One of her daughters appeared, along with a few of the various grandchildren. The place became even more hectic, which, coincidentally, is perfect for a grandparent's house. Elpida's husband appeared as well.

And, together, she and he showed the same smiles visible in the wedding photos from years ago.

*Note: these are not my photos. They belong to some of my classmates.*