Atlanta gave me her blessings and confessed that she never thought we would get to build so much in our relation. She kissed , and hugged me like pouring all of her protection , preparing me for the journey ahead. After years of wishing, planning, working, traveling, sweating, bleeding, crying, stressing and staying sleepless I was finally about to cross the chek in gate to the what I believe will be the most important journey of my life. I took a big breath, and walked towards the gate, trying not to miss a single detail of her face, of that beautifull silloutte shrouded in coats and scarfs that was waving goodbye to me. That amazing being that destiny crossed in front of my road and that I so much learned to love and embrace.
After going through all the hassles of JFK, boarding the plane, setting all of my stuff (I have 3 bags plus 2 I dispatched !!!!) in the compartment and crashing into the seat, I passed out into a wild sleep. In the morning, I thought, I would be in Africa.
7 in the morning Morocco time, we where arriving to Casablanca. I observed the coast outline while it kept getting closer, and started to feel the excitement of Africa getting within my Grasp. I would stay in Casablanca for an entire day, and then at night catch the plane that would take me to Conakry, Guinea, my final destination. I had a guide waiting for me that would show me around the city for the day. It was one of our friend's uncle, that worked as a taxi driver in the city.Rachid was waiting for me at the airport, with a sign that said "Alex Babouche". Babouche is a Moroccan Restaurant in Brooklyn where my girlfirend and I usually get dinner. We got to know the owner and some of the waiters, and they provided Rachid's contact. As soon as I saw him, I offered him my respect with the universal "Salam aleikum" , a handshake and a smile. "Aleikum salam" he offered in return. I learned about this salutation by word of mouth, from friends, that traveled to predominant muslim countries , and by my experiences working as a awaiter in New York, where in a same shift of a fancy French Bistro you can get a Catholic Mexican Buss Boy, a Muslim Ivory Coast Chef, a Muslim Bengali Food Runner, an Orthodox Christian Romanian Waiter and an Argentinean Jewish Waiter. So Ironic that this universal way of saying hello in the muslim world transaltes as something like "Peace be with you", "Peace with peace"... One of the communites most battered by the media, western governments and ignorance, where Muslim people are portrayed as relentless war mongerers with no regard to human life, as blind followers of a scripture that searches war for the infidels, has the word "Peace", as the first thing that comes out of one's mouth before initiating a conversation. How much ignorance and how much those in power are trying to divide us, so as to pursue their special interests. My stay in Morocco, would confirm once again how much damage to global society these views and agendas are doing. I always tell my girlfirend "If I had a few billion dollars, I would grab a bunch of ignorant westerners who support these anti muslim views, and make them travel to these amazing places. We would open so many minds, and so much bloodshed and misery could be avoided".
I told Rachid I would do my best to communicate with my Neanderthal French. He smiled and said ok. The road was perfectly paved, and all along you could see German and French cars, like Mercedes, BMW, Renault, Peugeot, and some of the Japaneese. The wather was pretty mild. It started to Rain and Rachid told me it would go away immediately. Apparently, this time of the year, you get ocational rains in and out. The airport is about half an our from the city. On our way we talked about football (soccer, but football from now on) Argentina, the US, his nepheu Tarek from the restaurant and other things. Entering the suburbs, we saw huge mantions, surrounded by hi walls. Rachid told me that this was where rich people lived. The houses where meant to hold entite families with many many rooms. Something I found very curious was solar panels everywhere and later on while drivign into the citty I saw hardware stores advertising it's technology. I though about Obama's "Green Plan". A few miles past the mantions, we saw the classic "slums" or Shanty towns. I guess even the "Kingdom of Morocco" has them. When we arrived to the city, it somehow felt pretty familiar. You could see allot of the european style in the architecture, but with the unmistakable touch of Islam, on the overall Aesthetic. Middle Easterner faces, that reminded me of relatives from my mother's side of the family (they are sepharadic Jews), where walking immersed in their everyday business. Some were cladded in long gawns with a peculiar pointy hood. Most of the women walked with their heads covered in a handkiertchief and wearing a long dress of pastel colors, with long sleeves. You could see all usuall ammenities of a modern metropolis : The barber shop, the supermarket, the mechanic, the policeofficer, the driver bitching at the police officer, a shoe polisher and in the distance the Crane's on top of constructions, a wittness to nation's progress engine. I asked Rachid about Government. Morocco is a Kingdom. As such, it has it's King, which is the head of state. Rachid told me he was very satisfied with "Le Roi", because he kept constructing and investing in the country. "I am in a kingdom..." I thought, and suddenly entered in a state of day dreaming, where immages of Tolkien's Fantastic Stories appeared. I was exhausted.
Rachid told me we could stop at his house to have some breakfast if I wished, and then he could show me the rest of the city. We entered his neighborhood. It appeared to be a lower middle class. The streets where narrow and winding, allot of kids humbily dressed where playing around. You could see all sorts of faces, from very darked skin, to middle eastern appearances. Shops around, had worn out signs in french and in Arabic. In the close by heights, ropes from one side of the street to the other, where displaying the day's fresh laundry . We stopped at a "Boulangerie " (Bakery). Rachid found a friend, saluted him with a handshake, a smile and a kiss on each cheek . Rachid told me to pick some pastries. I humbily picked a familiar one that we call "Palmera" back home. It's shapped like a heart and is very crusty and sweet. Rachid asked "that's all ?" I nodded. He picked a few more and a pair of bagguettes. He paid the clerk with a few Dirams and said something in Arabic that I guess meant "Thank you, see you later. " Rachid told me that in Morocco the following languages where spoken :French, Arabic and 3 forms of Ber Ber.We headed to Rachid's place, went through the door and up a few flights through the staircase. On each floor, there was the same setup: What appeared to be a living room, with a bunch of mushy velvety pillows, set in a square pattern surrounding a table. As if the place was meant for big and comfy family meetings. I didn't quite understand why each one of the floors displayed this pattern, but it seemed to be because of several families living in the same building. We got to Rachid's floor. His wife was waiting for us. She had hot tea ready for us. Rachid invited me to take a seat in one of the mooshy pillows. Tea is served in a beautifully ornamented metalic an elongated tea pot. It is powered from high above into short glasses (sort of like shot glasses). Too cool it down and even build up a small foam, it is passed from glass to glass several times, so that more of the liquid gets in contact with the air. The tea tasted sweet, minty, herbal and with a muddy aftertaste. I loved it ! They told me that this is a big thing for moroccans and for what I understood, they could spend the whole day drinking it. I explained him how this is very similar to Argentinian's and their Mate, and also how I related to the beverage's social function. We had the pastries and some baguette with pre packaged cheese. Before I laid my hands on the bakery stuff, Rachid demanded "aren't you washing your hands ?" I thought this was a big deal, so immediately headed to the lavatory and washed them. later, Tea, Tea and more Tea !! by the time I finished breakfast I was all pumped in Caffeine and sugar and ready to take on the world !Our first stop would be "Hassan the II", the new mosque, Africa's biggest one. We traversed a more modern area of the city with even more modern constructions. The mosque was in sort of plateau by the ocean. You could see its tall tower in the distance. When we approcached the building, and started to walk through the galeria and the arches, approaching the tower, I was amazed at the attention to detail. You could see tiny tiny patterns made with tiny stonesof a greenish, bluish colour, composing big ornaments everywhere. Rachid told me the mosque took a few years to build. I couldn't believe that such a marvelous and elaborate building could be built in such a small amount of time. The tower was magnificent. Tall, and full of detail. On the side, two inmense broze doors marked the entrance. Rachid happened to know one of the guards and arranged for me to be able to see the place where people woul dwash themselves before prayer. The guard was shrouded in a traditional garment and smoking a very strong cigarrette. I can't get over how much these people smoke ! We entered a chamber in the lower level, that had an endless amount of fountains, made out of the best marmol. The fountains had a mushroom shape. I was dazzled over and over again. Even though I consider myself a non-believer of anything, I felt so much emotion and respect to this homage to the almighty and the faith of it's people ! We moved to the upper level, and I took some pictures of the space. I would not be permited here, since I was not muslim but was allowed a few pictures of the inside and the gorgeous and huge inner chandeliers that hanged high above. I thought about this mosque for days and days. We later on went for lunch. A regular restaurant where they serveed sea food. "Arent' you going to wash your hands ?" Rachid repeated. He took me to the washrooms, where both men and women where washing their hands. Food was a mixture of several whole and filetted fried fish, fried squid rings and fried shrimp. Two mixed salads wit lettuce, egg, carrot and tomatoe where served on the side, next to bread and 3 plates of different spicy sauces. My feeling was that the food was simple. great tasting and abundant. The rest of the day we spent having tea, smoking Chicha (the big water pipe with tobacco and fruity essences) and visiting some amazing local artisan markets where you could see the classical moroccan lamps, dresses, pointy shoes, the gawns I saw on the street, Ouds (moroccan Guitar) moroccan ceramic "Bongoes" Big frame drums with huge cymbal like shingles, ceramic "Babouches" (which are clay pots where the traditional cous cous is cooked) and a pletora of tourist souvernirs. My journey ahead called for a strict restrain of adding any weight to my hefty baggage, except the "Argan Oil" that my girlfriend so much insisted on me getting.In the afternoon, we headed back to the airport, on a different road, (this one was pretty rough), passing by an incredilbly stincky landfill, where some insane goat herders had their stock feeding out of God know's what and listening to some traditional Moroccan music. I asked Rachid about the meaning of the osng and it had to deal with simpathy towards the palestinian refigees. I really liked the tune and the rythm. A nice 6/8 melody, that became hipnotic, with the counterpoint of the Oud and the lead singer with the Choir answering all phrases. I asked Rachid iif I could copy it. He gave it to me as a gift.I said goodbye to Rachid and his wife with a kiss on each cheek. He told me that now I was like part of the family and that anything I would need, I woiuld just have to call him. We agreed on an amount of money for his full day service and expenses, and said goodbye, reminding them how thankfull I was for their treatment and guidance.
My plan is to return to Morocco around July, where I will meet with my girlfirend after so many months, and spend a few weeks together, discovering all the wonders this rich culture has to offer.
Deep in the moroccan night, I was boarding the plane, that would take me to Conakry. I had to fight to stay awake, till I once again crashed in the seat. Now I was on the real beggining of my journey. "Le roi Marroquein" left a good impression on this humble traveler....
