Ramadan

30/06/2016
Finally I have a charged battery and a wifi connection…
So, my story…

One of our good friends from the US, she is from a Muslim family, encouraged us to fast at least one day while visiting Moroc during Ramadan. Knowing that travel can be tiresome we were concerned that we would fail. However, it happened that we left our apartment in Madrid very early and had prepared breakfast the night before our departure. So the universe was coming into alignment that positioned us to participate in the fast. It was a desperate attempt to get to the plane on time. We had assumed that we would cheat our fast and get coffee somewhere on the way. However, that was not the situation. Due to a traffic jam, our bus was stuck on the freeway. After rushing through the airport, we arrived at our plane with only 5 minutes to spare.

Having only 3-4 hours sleep the night before, we both passed out on the plane. During that sleep, I dreamed of farmland in the desert…

We landed. We came out of the plane, taking our first steps on African concrete. A moment that I had envisioned for decades. In my visions I always saw myself falling face down and kissing mama Africa. However, the jet fuel and concrete deterred me…

We passed a coffee shop as we passed through the terminal. Giving up yet another opportunity to break our fast. We purchased our train tickets from Casablanca headed toward Rabat! There were no opportunities for coffee.

Traveling on the train was nice, with intermittent sleep. Waking, sleeping, gazing dreaming. Stop after stop. My mind grasping for comparisons of Africa/Moroc and my birth country. Many things are common, the landscape, the plants, the people. 

Finally, Rabat Ville! We have arrived. Upon exit of the train station, we were indeed shocked. Bom Dior, wee wee, vou les vou, parle vous, do not go far. Our taxi driver was as confused as us when we tried to explain where we were going. Having been taken advantage of by Portuguese taxi drivers, we wondered if we were being taken again by the Moroccan taxi driver as he circled the Medina. We parked on the far side of the Medina, he grabbed a bag and in we went. Filled with new words, sounds, and smells, casual and confused we followed our unexpected guide. Sure enough, he walked us down a narrow street and pointed to a sign that was the name of our hotel!

After checking into to the most beautiful room I have ever been in, I rinsed off in the shower and walked to the bedroom. I was tired, hungry, and my head hurt for the wanting of just a sip of coffee. Am I really going to be able to sleep in this condition? Before my head hit the pillow, I was asleep. The time was 2pm or 3pm. I was briefly awoken to the sound of the mid afternoon prayers that awoke me like a police siren! Then I drifted back into a deep sleep…

 
I have had intense dreams my whole life. Often, as a youth, I would entertain my classmates of the dreams that I had of them the previous night. And as I slept on this day, I dreamt of waking from my sleep. In this waking dream, a friend, Chris, also known lovingly as “Lost” knew the prayers and chants. It was strange because In waking life, he is not Muslim. When I awoke in the dream, it was night time!!! The only thing strange was that the sky was purple! My friend told me, “it’s time to eat!” I was ready to eat.

Then, my love woke me from my slumber. “It is 5pm. We need to get up.”

I was saddenned when I realized that it was not time to eat. Like a child I wondered how we would pass the next few hours.

We got out of the hotel in search of the Kasbah. To my delight, after some walking, not only was the Kasbah, but the beach which is perfect for beginner’s surfing as described in the travel guide. I was saddened because no women were in the beach and despite my deep desire to surf, how can I enjoy the beach alone? So we asked some foreign ladies if they understood the culture. They were actually French and they were a tremendous trove of information. Of course they spoke English. They assured us that even though my love may receive some comments, it will be acceptable. They directed us to some sights to see and informed us of some costs. They said that we had poor luck because the sky had been clear for six months, and now it is cloudy.

We parted from our French friends and proceeded to walk to the breakwater. The time was quickly passing. We noticed that people were gathering on the beach. Families, friends, children, lovers! Despite having no water or food since sunrise, everybody was in good spirit. So we sat overlooking the crowded beach as the sun set. People were taking pictures of their meals along with selfies. And the feast began. What a beautiful experience it was.

So we began making our way back to the village where we would look for our meal. As we were leaving the board walk, we hear people shouting in French and signaling for us to come over. “Welcome, eat, welcome, sit…” Of course we obliged. First, we were offered milk, then strawberry/banana juice. Next we were offered bread, fish, and an array of other delicious items. 

We had no dictionary, no internet, only smiles, names, broken French, English, Spanish, and Arabic to share. We were then offered an after dinner Moroccan smoke from our new Moroccan friends. As if it could not get any better, our friends began to serenade us. We had a chance encounter with a Moroccan Band!

As we relaxed with full bellies, I looked up, the sky was purple from the reflection of the city lights off of the clouds. It was then that I recalled my dream. Purple night sky, Time to eat. Time to eat. A hum du Allah!