Been here for four days and already the US seems a distant past. From the way books smell when printed in Morocco to the sound of the Muezzin - call to prayer - at dawn. A call which acts as a universal alarm clock - echoing from neighborhood to neighberhood as the mosques each take up the call in turn. An action made all the more stunning by the silence which encompasses Rabat - for example - before the call to prayer. A silence whose presence is only sharpened by the periodic crowing of the family roosters nestled beneath me in the sea of satelite dishes which dot every rooftop - clumped together as though seeking protection from a fierce storm with their brethren.
My first night in Rabat - between jetlag and a bakery in my stomach turning out thousands of knot shaped pretzels an hour - I had trouble sleeping. This is what made it possible to experience the call to prayer - as well as another astonishing ritual of Morocco: the collection of garbage.
To those of you in the states this may to seem like an interesting subject. But the paradox's of Maroc made it a delightful experience for me to witness. Modern garbage trucks' pulling up to the streets - collecting garbage - and unloading a man at the corner of the street with a palm frond and a garbage can. To do what you ask? To sweep the streets with the palm frond of course - next to a 150000 dollar brand new garbagee truck.
Anyway I have to go - i'm at a cyber cafe at an arabic keyboard - so excuse the spelling errors. Next time though i'll introduce you to Ouzerazate and tell you why George W's buddy - Ambassador Riley - thinks i'm pretty up on my game.
Until then
m'ssalma!
13 years ago
