Tag: morocco
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Inchallah Lessons
Inchallah is a word that seems to mean a hundred different things. Depending on the situation, who is saying it, your relationship to them, and the tone of voice…it can mean something completely different. If you ask directly, a Moroccan will tell you it means that if God wants something to happen, it will happen.…
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Self-imposed, accidental exile. Again.
How do I keep doing this? Three years in a row is a thing, right? I was fine until I wasn’t. Too many late-night drum circles, too much wine, and today I crash. When I was sixteen or so my dad said something to me that I still haven’t learned, and I remind myself of…
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Ramadan
I was invited to stay for Ramadan. I’m not sure that’s exactly what happened so much as it was just clear that I would be staying because why wouldn’t I be? Last year, I left just before and the sisters were sad I was missing it and said, “Next year, inchallah.” It is the special…
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New Chapter
New chapters and perhaps this isn’t really a new chapter at all. It is a different volume all together. Like the encyclopedias we used to have as kids. A different book entirely but of the same collection. Gold letters embossed on a deep blue cloth spine. I’m here. And I’m not yet. I’m still in…
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The flood and new friends
I had a sad day and decided to go to bed early. Fully asleep I realize there is knocking on my door. It’s the night door man trying to tell me something important. I’m half asleep and in my nightgown but catch the word lma…water. So, I gesture for him to come in. He checks…
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The Apartment
When I went to college, I was close enough to go home easily but the school suggested and therefore my mom enforced no going home until Thanksgiving. So that you gave yourself a real chance at getting adjusted, to making friends, to finding a rhythm. I’ve imposed the same sort of rule on myself at…
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Café des Espices
My favorite café so far in Marrakech is Café des Espices in the spice piazza (I’m sorry I will never not be Italian in naming this type of space). Rattan umbrellas three deep, stools, armchairs with red carpet pillows on the perimeter, straw hats on each table, greeter man, waiters and waitresses! scurrying about, huge…
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The Women and the Shopping
I am not shopping. For a multitude of reasons. I need nothing. I have no house to put anything. I don’t know where exactly I live. I am already carrying to much. Figuratively and literally. Like want to find a UPS store to send things home carrying too much. I understand and can appreciate the…
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The Men and the Scams
This part of the Medina I’m in now is a little pocket of weird energy. Every time I’ve been in this part I feel it…the first time I did an abrupt about face and left. The souks in general are intense; shops packed together, their offerings piled high and spilling out into the alley, people…
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The Heat and Lessons from a Yurt
It really is it’s own being, the heat. Actual 117 degree, African heat. A pulsing, throbbing, shimmering, slate grey sky oppressive thing. Laying down over everything. Lion’s hot breath on the back of your neck so you lay still and pinned down, trying not to tempt it. Trying to avoid it’s notice. Deep breaths, cool…