1.0 Arrived in Casablanca
Our plane from Jeddah landed in Casablanca around 11.30 in the morning. Passport checking and Custom were brief and smooth. No pandemic control was in sight, we just filled a declaration form on the plane with a help from a nice stewardess. The form was in Arabic. A taxi was waiting to take us to Rabat; the driver, Mohamed, spoke Arabic and French with little English. The journey took 1 hour and 15 mins an a busy highway. It was long and boring. Tried to make conversation with Mohamed but so hopeless. Hopeless in the sense that having little hope to enjoy Arabic communication at this stage. Dismissing the hopelessness in coming all the way to here and anticipated miracles to make your life more meaningful for better knowing the language. Along the way, I saw empty fields and unfinished buildings. A cliché that might not go down well with everyone. The fields, the houses, the buildings, and the people show life is hard here in Morocco just like back home. As we approached the city, the landscape started to change; some modern and some remain French from the old days. Before the French, the Arabs were here as we know from the history books. A glimpse of local characters (Berber) was hard to find but have surfaced here and there. They were visible and noted as anything neither Arabic nor French. The unexplained characters and culture of this place triggered my anticipation in more ways than expected. But the most significant one is how am I going to relate to them. Would it do any good for me to realise that in the end? Right now, the connection is in the language; that’s why I pursue this quest to learn Arabic. The motivation was pegged at beautiful scenery and awesome history. I could learn the language online like everyone else. Actually, I am tired of learning by listening to acquire knowledge; instead, I want to learn by experience in order to acquire knowledge.
The host welcomed us with mint tea and biscuits (called Fekkas). We would be staying with a Moroccan family throughout our stay here. The family ( Khadijah, Sharif, Hussam,and Nabiha) opened a lot of doors to discover. Doors to their culture, lifestyle, food, and drinks. I was overwhelmed by their warm hospitality despite the language barrier. Hussam spoke fluent English, so the communication went through eventually. Youssef, the coordinator, dropped by and said hi. Later on, beautiful Nabiha cooked pasta for us but it was late and we could not enjoy it that much.The word “Lalla” and “Sidi” were used to honour the elders as in Lalla Khadijah and Sidi Sharif.
The weather was nice as summer has started to warm up Morocco. A trail of winter was here as the cold tap water numbed my hand and feet. I looked around the room and no heating equipment was around. I have been in this predicament many times before and could feel the cold nasty winter lingers in the air. It’s like a big polar bear sitting quietly in the corner and blinks whenever I touch the water. Hahaha, it’s still cold don’t play play. But this is summer, the sun will make it go away sooner or later.
The house is a French-colonial-type apartment. The luxury of the past still written on the wall. The ambience was heavy, and I was overwhelmed by the spirits from yesteryears. I could feel it the moment I stepped into the living room. Ironically, the apartment has an open-air backyard. Can you imagine? It was on the first floor and at the back there is a courtyard to hang the washing and for the cats to laze around. That was so French! Hahaha the luxury of the past. So, I felt so lucky to be there and experienced the life styles that were so alien to my own. Instead of spending my time in a modern apartment with no character, I am here in this beautiful house similar to where many other Moroccans might live.
