which brings me to the
question my friend Diana asked me about what I was thankful for at T-Day.
I'd thought of something entirely sage, like laughter, but since it
wasn't spontaneous, I figure it didn't count in my original response...
But, in reality, that is what I am thankful for. People are so damn
serious. If you take a nation of people and tell them that they cannot
have alcohol (even wine dammit) and that they have to live in constant filth
and basically beg for money from any stray foreigner that wanders your streets
looking for "that perfect picture", then you, too, would lack a
serious freaking sense of humor.
For a large portion of our stay in
Morocco - I was missing entirely that. Humor isn't translatable in a
third language and I am just a rich tourist that refuses to buy your
stink-cured leather products or buy you a bowl of couscous for taking us up and
down the Medina. Until you meet a Canadian named Geordan.
A
gorgeous blonde backpacker that we, okay I, descended upon in the Jewish Medina
to help fend off not one, but two of our failing local guides for the morning.
Geordan speaks French, had been backpacking through Morocco for a few
weeks and had picked up some Arabic and was totally comfortable interacting
with the locals. What a pleasure.
Whereas my American friend thought it better
to ignore or bark at the locals and I was trying to politely disengage from
them, Geordan bought oranges to share with the kids and smiled at everyone.
Granted, being a boy is better than being a girl. But man, he made
Fes so much more palatable. He was not a complaining Aussie, he was not
an uneducated American, he was sweet and unassuming. That night, when we
went out 'after hours' (9 pm) to get a sandwich, he was freely joking with the
locals about what condiments to use. They do laugh. Its at night.
When the tourists are in bed. It was refreshing. A day
without laughter.... just sucks ;)
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