that feeling of being trapped and dependent - a feeling
which stayed.
‘Oh God, please help me to survive all this’ was the last
thought I had falling asleep that night. In fact, it was, as it
turned out, a very smooth beginning of what has become
the most surreal time of my life so far.
So back again to, what is Morocco?
to this question. Below is my answer. In fact, it would be
more correct to paraphrase the question into ‘What is
Casablanca?’, as this is
What is Morocco?
To my dear friends Danielle and
Emmanuel
First of all, I would like to make a disclaimer. This piece of writing reflects
my very personal point of view and in
no way is aimed to serve as a source
of information about Morocco, to
raise any philosophical issues, to
make any conclusions whatsoever or
insult anyone’s feelings. Moreover, it is
very contextual and full of references,
the meaning of which only two other
people can appreciate, namely Danielle and Emmanuel. I neither pretend to understand this country, nor
even to be on the way to understanding it. The only purpose of this is to try
to avoid all the experiences there (except for some particular ones) fading
away as time passes. Even though it
seems pretty unlikely right now, it is
still better to keep this in written form,
just to be on the safe side.
the only place my experiences originate from. However, I
somehow believe that this is the place where
you can find every aspect and side of Morocco and even
more.
What is Morocco?
Strangely enough, I had never asked myself this question before going there, but I heard it being asked many
times during my stay, by my friend Emmanuel. Contrary
to Danielle and Emmanuel, I did not have a clue about
the country, its
political situation or level of
development.
Moreover, I was
not interested in
any of this, and
to be honest, I
am still not. If
you stop reading
here, I will understand.
I am not the best
example of a
conscious and
engaged human
being trying to save the world, but believe it or not,
during that time I somehow thought I could do it and
even wanted to do it. However, this mission of changing the world was only one of the reasons for me going
there, and I must admit, not the primary one. There was
also another reason, very personal. It belongs to those
particular parts which I would be glad to forget. In short,
this trip was supposed to become a new chapter in my
life (me as a world saver) and at the same time to help
turn the page which had been open much longer than it
should have been.
So to the question again – ‘What is Morocco?’
I am sure that the three of us will give a different answer
26
For me it started with a night train and two flights, a trip
lasting more than 24 hours. One of my first experiences in
Morocco was a so called (by me) ‘winking bonsoir’, which
is a ‘bonsoir’ followed by a wink. I suppose there equally exists a ‘winking bonjour’, but due to the late hour of
my arrival I only experienced a ‘winking bonsoir’, received
at the information desk at the international airport of
Casablanca where I had hoped to get information regarding train times. I am still slightly confused about the
true meaning of this sign. On my way back I was ready to
count the number of signs I anticipated to receive during
my night’s stay at the same airport. I hoped it would at
least save me from being bored while waiting for the
flight. Alas, the number equaled zero. What a disappointment!
Before going to Casablanca I had only one idea about the
city in my head, namely the economic capital of the country, stemming from (oh, shame on me) Wikipedia. That
night, while passing by the outskirts of the city with this
image created in my head, the only thing I could think
about was that apparently we have a different understanding of what ‘economy’ is…
On the way from the airport to the city the car belonging
to the local people from the association I was supposed
to work for and who picked me up from the airport was
stopped at a police patrol. As far as I could understand
from their explanation later, there was something wrong
with the light. Apparently, the policeman wanted them to
give him a bribe. Apparently, they did not. At that point
I said to myself that something was definitely wrong, and
it wasn’t referring to the light. The whole situation felt
wrong. Never before had I found myself in a situation
when I was unable to figure out what was going on. I was
surrounded by people speaking a language I did not understand, not a single word. It was the first time when I got
My next remarkable experience was the streets, followed
by the street markets. Those streets all looked the same
to me. After having turned I don’t know how many times
during a 15 minutes walk to reach the (let’s call it) office
of the association, I gave up trying to remember the way.
Forget Google maps. Forget any maps. Just as well I had
not printed anything out in advance, it would have been
a pure waste of paper. Either I am really hopeless as far
as space orientation is concerned (however, before it was
not that obvious), or…No, I cannot come up with another
credible explanation. This is it. I am useless at space orientation. Street