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Published: August 30th 2009
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Zak & Zak
My two favorites. I miss these boys so much :) Saturday around 6 PM I said good-bye to my Dad and hopped the train to the Barcelona airport. My flight with Royal Air Maroc (Royal Moroccan Airlines), was scheduled to leave around 9 PM. However when I checked in they told me the flight was delayed an hour. After I got through security, I saw on the monitors that I was now leaving around 11 PM. After grabbing something to eat, the little TVs now said around midnight. Turns out the RAM pilots had gone on strike. I was told to wait it out. By midnight, I'd made good friends with the other three non-Moroccans on the flight: two guys from Bamako and one from Dakar. We hung out in the terminal, listening to techno music from the cafe, until 4 in the morning when the plane finally showed up. Cool, right?
So when we arrived in Casablanca two hours later (4 AM local time), I wasn't really in the best of spirits. I followed my three African friends to the information desk. The man from Dakar was upset to find out his connection wasn't leaving for another 10 hours. The two men from Bamako went next and were less
than pleased that their flight was leaving 16 hours later. Next up, I say I need to go to Conakry. They get a concerned look on their faces and tell me, "You're flight doesn't leave until tomorrow at 11 at night." So of course, my immediate reaction was to throw my arms into the air and celebrate! I grabbed my new ticket, headed through immigration, and got on the first train to Rabat.
The streets are deserted at 8 AM, and memories come flooding back of Ramadan in Morocco. When I was here four years ago, this was my favorite month. Everyone's a little nicer, the men are much less aggressive, and at sunset everyone disappears indoors only to reemerge a couple hours later for the nightly impromptu parties. I walk around for a little bit, deciding to let my fasting friends sleep a little longer before I wake them up. I've missed it here. Everything's quiet in the morning. The entire city is sleeping so I look around unnoticed. I'm excited that I remember where things are. It's like coming home.
I eventually call and wake my friends up. They're very surprised by my random, unexpected presence
The Boys & Me
We're all pretty big tools :) in their country. Despite the conservative holiday, there are many hugs in the street. Zak's (the one on the left, top photo) family takes me in for the duration of the trip. His mom compliments me on letting my hair grow long again. They bathe, feed, and clothe me.
I spend the next two days walking around with friends, catching up, fasting, napping, and eating copious amounts of food for Futr (the break-fast meal). In short, it's glorious.
On Monday, my old host family packs me a break-fast doggy bag to take on the train with me, since I can't stay to break the fast with them. At sunset on the train, all the passengers anxiously look at each other before taking out their own plastic bags filled with dates and bottles of milk. We all share our goodies and wear big smiles at the joy of finally being able to eat.
And suddenly I'm back in the airport. I've missed this place so much. It's been an amazing two day visit. Inshallah, it won't be my last.
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