This is my last working day in Casablanca and I feel like crying. Why is there 'good' in goodbye? What's good about it? I am not good at goodbyes at all.
Since arriving in late January I have developed an addiction to couscous and the fresh vegetables from the market. I've learned to speak a few words of Arabic and the people in my local bakery seem to be so impressed that they now treat me like a star. And I've learned to appreciate a good haggle. What do you mean you have fixed prices?
Surely I have complained about the chaotic traffic, the exhaust fumes from cars that make breathing difficult, the cold floors and breaks in electricity in my apartment, the men who harass me on the streets. But today people actually gave me way in the hectic morning rush hour traffic and I swear that the honking of the horns had a more friendlier sound. When was the last time I have received this many compliments from the strangers in the streets? The guy yesterday evening; il me dit que je suis belle.
I have not had enough time to do half of the things I planned to do or go to places I wanted to go. I was lazy and thought there would be time. I don't know what happened, I was busy making other plans.
I know this is not a goodbye but see you later. A part of my heart will always beat for Morocco and the wonderful people I have had the privilege to get to know. I hope I will be coming back.
A soppy post indeed.
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PS For some great photos of Morocco, check drewnoakes' flickr site
1 comment:
Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for th4e rest of your life!...
Ah! Casablanca!
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