...I met someone. 
After the rather dramatic crash and burn of my last relationship, with a Moroccan, I had difficulty deciding if I was going to renege on the job offer here in Marrakech. August was a rough month.  I didn't tell the story to everyone and I'll only sum-up here: My three year relationship and engagement to Z ended in a strange series of events. Namely: seeing each other in Morocco, breaking up and him getting married...all in less than a month's time. It was...stressful. But, amazingly, I got some much needed perspective and bounced back in record time.

Still, those closest to me insisted that, if I was to take the job and go to Marrakech, I should NOT get involved with another Moroccan man.  I agreed...half-heartedly.  There's a ridiculous amount of male attention here, and no shortage of cute guys, and I figured if I was living here dates would most likely take place. Dates yes...I had no intention of a relationship.

Then I get here and everything is messed up.  Living in a hotel for over two weeks forced me to have all my meals out.  During Ramadan this meant after 8pm, when there are no longer women in the cafes...never mind solo women.  But I had little choice in the matter and had to eat.

There's a cafe by the hotel that's cheap, tasty and pleasant. I ended up coming back repeatedly to Cafe Gomassine for these reasons.  Then, one night, a guy who qualifies as tall, dark and handsome struck up a conversation with me.

He apparently had been trying for days.  He assumed I'd speak French as most tourists here do, but was undeterred by the fact that I didn't...and we didn't truly share a common language.  He was sweet and I was patient with the conversation that unfolded in English, French, Italian, Spanish and Arabic.  Five languages all mixed together and somehow we understood each other pretty much perfectly. We talked about living alone in a foreign country, the stars in the desert night sky, the friendliness (or lack thereof) of camels, the fact that terrorists don't make it to heaven no matter the intention or delusion and the prettiest places Morocco has to offer.

The next time I went to the cafe he was there.  He came to my table and gave me a small wooden box from Essouira with a gorgeous Berber style red beaded necklace, complete with a silver star, because he saw I liked stars.  It was completely endearing.  The next time I was in the cafe he made me close my eyes and but a tiger's eye bracelet, again with silver stars, on my wrist.  I conceded, at this point, to go on a date with him...his sweetness and thoughtful presents had won me over. 

The date was fantastic, just a really wonderful night. He picked me up at my hotel in an old white Renault and took me for dinner near Djemma al Fna. We listened to story-tellers and musicians in the square and chatted.  It was simple, but perfect.  

Since then we've be seeing each other on a regular basis.  I've had iftar with his family a few times and they are lovely. We have an excellent time each time we're together and it's all a bit of a mystery to me how any of this is possible.  The language barrier is, incredibly, not really an obstacle. We understand each other easily, with a strange mixed language vocabulary.  Occasionally things need to be rehashed to translate properly. My French comprehension is shooting upwards and my Darija is coming along as well. He's bought an English book and studies a little everyday.  It may sound strange, but I even think the language complication is a good thing. It forces us to listen carefully to what the other is saying...a simple but not entirely common thing. We chose our words carefully and put thought into every sentence. Thus...we have not had even the smallest of disagreements or arguments. We also laugh a lot. 

So...there it is. I've admitted it.  Despite the threats from people at home to come smack some sense into me if I get involved with a Moroccan...I've gone and done just that. Oops. 

Now...before you go sending me hostile comments or saying I've lost it...just know that he's a nice guy who treats me impeccably.  Cute too...

Fahd on a quick break during a long drive, near Agadir.

 

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