My Morocco Trip
As many friends are asking me now about my trip to Morocco, I decided to write about it sharing all my experiences about art, culture, tips for tourists and… love. I believe everyone can take from this text what is the most touching his and her soul. So, sit comfortable, relax and enjoy. And please remember, I am not native English speaker, so for all mistakes I might here “commit” I truly apologize.
Being invited for art exhibition I spent in Morocco very intense week. I travelled from Frankfurt Hanh airport where I got by bus.
I had no idea I will queue so many times before my departure. Finally I found myself in the plane full of Moroccan families. It seemed that more children were travelling than adults. The impression was that I am in one big family and hear constantly cry or little ones. Start got delayed 2 hours, so all the flight took around 5 hours. Finally children got tired and fell asleep.
I was very lucky having a company of Moroccan guy Mustafa who picked up by his family from the airport, offered me a help in getting to the hotel.
It was around nine o’clock in the evening and Fez was so alive. All the people were gathering on main street, walking, sitting and chatting. The street was shining in colourful lights and enriched by the view of fountains.
Hotel Ibis, depending on the budget for some is affordable, for some expensive but for sure is luxury and worth to stay in. One night costs from 55 euros.
The hotel was looking totally different from the rest of the city. I had a better chance to see the city in the morning while jogging. So beautiful and so dirty.
Before I left to Taza, I met another artist and her sister. Stella and Edit were travelling together participating in different art exhibitions. Stella was exhibiting her paintings, Edit was her personal photographer.
The organizer Elmadani welcomed us very warmly in Taza central station and soon we were in a hotel. The same day we had two more excursions, climbing toward old city of Taza.
Old city in the evening was again so alive. People were selling, buying, chatting. Crowded little streets were not so easy to pass at times.
The rest of the evening we spent in Picasso café, where usually artists are gathering. It was a real pleasure to learn a little bit of so many languages. So if someone would see us, he would hear us speaking Arabic, English, French, Polish, Slovak.
The next day we were preparing exhibition and finally managed for opening in the evening. It wasn’t the first time when I met so much friendliness and openness. I only asked if somewhere here is internet and one of the men, Aziz was ready to go with me and search for one. So we did, but heat was strong and didn’t find even one. All internet cafés were closed. Who would work during the day in such heat?
Evening hours were cooler and more pleasant in the gallery, where first visitors were passing through joining our opening of exhibition.
Let me also show here wonderful work of artists. While you can read their biographies in internet, I would like to mention their unique qualities as artists and human beings.
Elmadani Belmadani, great artist and great host for artists. He was so much caring that sometimes one could have a feeling of belonging to one family. The most of his art I had a pleasure to admire were Moroccan landscapes.
Aziz Ben Massoud, who loves to paint any subject which belongs to Moroccan tradition.
Bounoua Mounir, not only adding to art with his artistic talent, but as I heard also quite advanced in martial arts training.
Stella Velka, not only wonderful artist who brings out the beauty in art, but also incredible, warm, charming and wise woman that I had a pleasure to spend many hours with on interesting talks. Her favourite motives are butterflies, the symbols of resurrection, change into more beautiful form and more powerful.
Fatima Elharadi, who I didn’t have much chance to get to know closer because of the language barrier. Her art tends to bring traditional qualities of a family and royal life.
Abdelmahjid Elhimass, impressionist and as his friends told me fast painter. I watched his art with interest, seeing so rich imaginary.
Lachochi Mohamed, painting landscapes.
And our great photographer Edita Hanzelikova. Frankly spoken I seldom had a pleasure to meet such nice and humble person who I usually observed fully absorbed by her passion photography. Sometimes on the excursion we were waiting for Edit who charmed by a flower or view, was somewhere in the jungle of some plants adjusting her camera for the best possible photo.
- Edit, don’t go down this hillside – Stella was warning, so Elmadani was concerned. – you might fall.
At the end of this list I would like to add, that I was really warmly welcome with my abstract paintings, so different. It was really honour for me to be in such talented group of artists.
One of the visitors especially drawn my attention. He was looking like a beautiful prince and so were his manners when I got to know Ahmed. His voice was like a sweet calming melody. It reminded me of Michael Jackson somehow. His posture and presence made me feel surrounded by peaceful royal dignity.
This evening it took us all quite long time to prepare schedule for approaching days. Finally hours were settled and we all were about to leave home from gallery.
- So tomorrow at 10 – said suddenly Elmadani.
- No, it was agreed that at 12. – I protested.
- No 10.
- No problem – Aziz approached us with comforting smile. – It can be 11.
- No Aziz, morning! – said Elmadani
- Or 11.30 – Aziz added.
I realized, I was speechlessly observing their discussion, almost bargain, so I tried to ask:
- What is the problem?
- There is no problem! – both Elmadani and Aziz said simultaneously, then Elmadani exclaimed:
- Ok 12! In Morocco there is never a problem!
We were walking toward hotel, but I had a feeling Elmadani was angry.
- You know Joanna I like you very much, but it cannot be always as you want. – said Stella.
- You are absolutely right Stella, I will go back now and apologize. – I felt quilt and bad enough. Somehow all this situation slipped out of control.
- No!!!!! – Stella and Aziz reacted both immediately.
- What is the problem? – Aziz was quickly by my side, always with smile. – There is never problem! Is normal, it is our culture. You will see Elmadani will be happy in the morning.
- But I think he was angry.
- He wasn’t – Aziz was smiling.
- I guess you will tell me now anything to make me happy.
- Of course! – his honesty made me laugh. – You are my guest, you need to be happy. Words were not so convincing as his cheerful aura, special atmosphere that was around Aziz constantly.
Every evening after closing gallery, artists from abroad were accompanied to the hotel by Aziz and Bounoua. It felt really good to have almost bodyguards by our sides. Still every evening Ahmed somehow was joining us on the way. Then I spent with him a little bit more time in a hotel bar where we could sit more comfortable.
It was getting to noon and I had to get to gallery. No ways, I won’ walk in this heat. I tried to take a taxi. So I stood on the road waiting for someone to stop. Finally taxi stopped.
- Gallery Mimosa – I was hoping it will ring a bell to him. Perhaps it is the only gallery in the city.
- Ha? – the man wasn’t speaking English. I heard only expressive exclamation in Arabic and French. Before he continued driving without me, I quickly sat down and started the same expressive exclamation with smile in English, showing him a way with my hand.
- Go straight, I will show you the way! Haha! Great! Just take a left here.
Prepared enough to not ask him how much I must pay I gave him already prepared 5 dirham.
It is important to know the prices especially for tourists. If you ask yourself how much something cost, you will here double or even triple price.
I was punctual at 12 in the gallery. We suppose to leave for lunch, invited by Monsef and his parents who expected us at 14. How did it happened? I found myself chatting with all, teaching Aziz salsa and all of sudden it was almost 14.
- We close now. – said Elmadani. – Is no problem, we will take a taxi.
Sitting in a taxi with Aziz was somehow of feeling joy, easiness of life. I looked at him and was wondering for the first time, how comes this man is always smiling, although life conditions here must be difficult. Aziz looked back at me with sparks in eyes.
- That’s here, old city.
- Monsef lives here?
- No! – Aziz laughed loud. – We have to walk down. Cars cannot get there. You better get yourself a hat, otherwise you will get burnt by sun.
That didn’t sound like a good idea, but probably I didn’t care much in this moment if I get burnt or not.
- Let’s make a photo with donkey. – now I felt such easiness to be in a presence of Aziz that I simply was enjoying making some photos.
- You can take a donkey now as a taxi. – Aziz loved to joke too.
Indeed it took us sometime to get to Monsef’s parents house. The view on the way however was beautiful.
There was actually “no problem” that we got there 2 hours later than planned. I was surprised by the way they were living. Still many people in Marocco live in little houses made of clay and stones.
The father, then Aziz was playing instrument named bandir in Moroccan language (addif in Arabic) and Monsef was dancing. Then I found myself forgetting about food, although I was hungry and singing with Aziz who played and sang too.
I sat closer to Aziz to learn how to play. I enjoyed so much this time, feeling pure joy in my heart. I watched him playing and through my mind thoughts were passing: so charming man, reminding me a bit of George Michael when he was singing and playing. I know I shouldn’t compare, but it just came to my mind. I saw so much happiness in Aziz’s eyes. Through my mind again passed quickly the thought: I wish this man will be always happy in his life.
Soon the lunch – dinner was served. We were sitting on pillows around the round table. I can’t deny, it was one of the most delicious meals in my life. So many salads, cold, warm, prepared different ways. Freshly baked bread. Even chicken was looking tasty, although I don’t eat meat.
And for the desert fresh figs and nectarines. For the first time in my life I ate so delicious figs. All the food was from Mosef’s family farm and field vegetable.
We had enough strength to go back taking another longer route to admire views of Morocco. Sun was almost frying us although it was around 18 and 19 o’clock.
After this excursion I really needed shower first, so I got back to the hotel and then to gallery where we all stayed till closing at 22 or perhaps 23 according to Maroccan time.
I entered the gallery and heard laud discussion of Elmadani, Edid and Stella.
- Joanna! Tell him that I will give him photos when I collect them on folder, I won’t give him my camera card, cause I have there personal photos. – said Edit.
- Joanna, what is the problem? Why she doesn’t want to give me card camera? Just for moment. I would like to have these photos too. – Elmadani complained.
- Elmadani, don’t worry you will get the photos. Do you have a memory stick? – I asked.
- What’s that?
- Ok. She will make a folder and copy photos from Morocco for you.
- But why she can’t give me camera card?
- Joanna, I think he understands, but doesn’t want to accept. – said Stella.
Soon Aziz joined us drawn probably by loudness of discussion.
Next moment I lost the direction of this talk cause it turned into expressive Arabic. We all stood there in silence expect of Elmadani and Aziz. It felt quite comic to me, so all of a sudden I started to sing. Then even these two went into silence and the next moment there was no problem at all. We all started to talk about something completely else. How can I understand this culture?
Elmadani was a very caring host. Every day we had a different attraction to see and even if other artists were not there, Aziz gave all his time with Elmadani to show us city, tourist attraction and simply be with us. It is not easy to be in another country, especially so different in culture where English is not common language.
Again in heat and strong sun we were climbing toward special taxi that suppose to take us to see cave. I sat with Aziz in the back of the taxi and all would be great, just the driver was speeding up incredible in my opinion going almost artistically in slalom through the tricky, curvy roads of mountain terrain. My imagination was working intensely, I already pictured all of us falling from one of these roads far down, as no even little barriers were put along the way. Aziz was smiling, giving me already the music to listen.
- Don’t worry, they know their road very well, listen some music.
That was just a bit better, but coolness of the cave refreshed us all.
We were going down slowly down the stairs that were reminding me a bit of dutch way of building with steep stairs in every apartment. We went all way down until little opening of another cave, where if we enter we end up dirty in clay and whatever was inside. Elmadani wanted to go back, Aziz was eager to enter the little cave. I didn’t interrupt their discussion and we went up and back with the same taxi.
- Joanna you don’t have to sit in the back. – said Elmadani and Stella. One place in taxi was freed. However I just quickly entered back sit where Aziz was already sitting.
I reacted faster than my thought then realized I somehow want to sit with Aziz and listen to the music with him. There it was, song of Patti Austin and James Ingram. “Baby come to me”. Was it the song that made me suddenly so happy? I was sitting there and if that moment someone would ask me how I am, I would frankly say: I am the most happiest person in this world. I don’t need anything, all is right and as it should be. I felt love toward all the world, everything and slowly realizing that it might have something to do with the man sitting by my side, with sparks in his eyes and lovely smile, not only for me, but all the world around. Simple, pure happiness.
- I wish you go with me to Fez. – I said spontaneously to Aziz. I was leaving tomorrow.
- I wish that too. – he smiled. – But I can’t. – He didn’t say why, but I knew.
We had to get out soon. Elmadani was showing us beautiful natural source of water. It was beautiful, however all of a sudden I felt unpleasant words and my mood dropped. I was still smiling however. Aziz was soon close to me asking:
- What happened? You are not happy as before. Tell me. - I couldn’t say and didn’t want to. I decided to solve it myself.
- I will pick you up from the hotel and we go to gallery. – Aziz said when we were approaching Taza back.
Aziz was surprisingly punctual. We were walking toward gallery and I was trying to explain him all I felt. I indeed had bad feelings of someone taking me as a tourist obliged to pay for all and keep on smiling. I didn’t manage to say much, cause Aziz said:
- Don’t worry, I am going with you to Fez. I can.
I didn’t care about Moroccan culture, but spontaneously hugged him. He didn’t responded, but I had impression he was happy.
- I am sorry, I forgot that you guys don’t hug in a public.
- No problem.
In the gallery Elmadani and Bounoua were painting portrait of Stella. We did some more photos, packed my paintings as I was going tomorrow morning to Fez with Aziz.
On the way back to the hotel Ahmed joined us as last days. One was carrying my paintings, other gift from one of the artist Lashushi.
On the stairs to the hotel stood a manager that was hoping to show me the city, as he mentioned once when I was leaving a hotel.
- Well, well – Stella observed and recognized the situation very well. – Two of them walk with you and third is waiting here. Very well Joanna, don’t you decide for one? I wonder how you solve it.
- Please, - I almost whispered, - stay with me downstairs. – So the sisters stayed. I had no idea how to solve this situation and what to do. Really, such thing never happened in my life. Royal Ahmed was peacefully chatting with cheerful, heart open Aziz and manager was leaving, so I took some photos with him and thank him for all his assistance while my stay.
We all were sitting downstairs. I was close to Aziz, who turned to me and with smile said:
- I’m gonna miss you so much.
I felt sudden emotional string moved within my heart.
- I have to go now, we’ll see in the morning. – Aziz left.
It was almost midnight. I decided I pay for my hotel now, not in the morning. It was right decision, because the amount of money surprised me so much that I reacted very expressively, perhaps even as Moroccan would.
- Excuse me! This not suppose to be like this. – I saw the bill as if for 2 nights more.
- But the coffees are also included here.
- I paid for every single coffee I ordered.
- But nobody told me. This is the price for the room…
- No, is not. Elmadani said is different.
- Who is Elmadani?
- Don’t you know?
I was almost screaming, so the manager. Ahmed approached me, took my hands and started to talk so comforting that I was almost melting in his voice.
- Let me talk, you just sit and relax, ok?
I agreed immediately. It didn’t take long, wasn’t so loud conversation when manager came back and asked me very politely.
- So how much would you like to pay?
Oh my God! Am I dreaming? Where in this world, manager is coming to the client and asking this way? I almost lost my voice.
- Well, is ok, I pay exactly as was settled.
- I really apologized I was not informed.
- Me too, I am sorry, but it all surprised me.
- It is lack of communication and nobody told me you paid these coffees. They should come downstairs and make a note. After all don’t forget that prices in Morocco are very movable. – now we both laughed as if it was never a problem here.
- So I can count for morning coffee tomorrow? – I asked charmingly.
- Of course. – manager smiled widely. So I.
It was late, but I had to talk to Ahmed. This charming young gentleman probably saved me a lot of problems. His aura was so peaceful. I could look at his eyes and read him. I hold his hands before I could let him go. So precious man, maybe too precious for this world.
- You are so strong woman. – he said and I thought quickly: oh honey if you would only knew….
Aziz was even before settled time and found me with Stella and Edit enjoying breakfast. Last hugs and we were ready to go.
Elmadani, waiting at the central station gave me a certificate of participation in exhibition and gift, his own painting. It felt so good that I thanked him with hug before I remembered that Moroccans are so reluctant with it.
The train was delaying. For the first time I stayed alone with Aziz for a longer period of time. Whatever will happen, will happen now. This quick thought passed through my mind. And then another one: we actually don’t know each other…
- Look! – Aziz laughed. Two birds were chasing each other, landing finally one on another and making lots of noise. So easy to laugh with him and be around him.
- I am so happy you go with me. – I said.
- Me too. – his eyes were saying more and I couldn’t stop smiling.
People were gathering around. So many of them going to Fez. Train was full, but we found 2 places close to each other. Once we started to listen to the music, I got sleepy.
- You can put your head on my shoulder. – Aziz was encouraging me. So I did and the next moment I felt tears in my eyes, realizing I will miss this man too. I admitted it:
- Aziz I will miss you very much, I am about to cry.
- Oh no! Don’t do this. – Aziz smiled widely. – Just don’t cry. – Why? I found out later. Simply because he would start crying with me.
(Just a short note from the author: right here Taza adventure came to the end. So were the experiences about art, culture, social relations. From this moment on new chapter starts, so if you like to continue you are very welcome.)
I had a crazy idea to find cheaper hotel than Ibis with the at least good standard. Aziz did whatever I wanted so he didn’t stop me in craziness.
First hotel. No. So second and third also not. Princess Joanna thought she will now choose great place that is waiting only for her. Heat was terrible and it made me think: we are loosing money for taxi, time and getting tired in this heat. Ok, if nothing else is possible, let’s go back to Ibis. Is better to spend, but came back home healthy.
- How much is the taxi? – I asked.
- I have no idea, but I will take care of that. – Aziz left to taxi driver. I couldn’t let him pay for my ignorance. Too late.
It was such a comfort to refresh in really good conditions.
We sat for a drink in a city café.
- Aziz why I am the only woman sitting in café?
- That is the culture.
- But women are not allowed to sit here?
- They are.
- But they don’t.
All of sudden a woman approached us and sat to our table. She appeared as if from nowhere, started to talk to Aziz. He smiled politely and gave her the rest of his fanta drink.
- What is she saying? – I asked Aziz.
- She just was thirsty.
The woman was talking and looking at me. Aziz was laughing translating.
- She said that she cannot recognize you and you are not from here maybe cause she doesn’t understand a word of your strange talk.
The woman left, so we to see old city Medina.
I took Aziz hand in mine.
- oh god! – he exclaimed.
- is that ok?
- Now all the people will think we are married.
- Alright. Then how you feel as new born husband?
- Very good.
- Then welcome my one day husband.
Medina was huge. I was charmed walking around the street, seeing so many nice things that I don’t need, but would love to buy it.
Aziz was going with me wherever I wanted to go. We had to go back the same road, the other way we would be lost.
- What a nice dresses.
- Would you like one? I will buy for you. – I felt Aziz wanted to give me all and more. Aura of love was surrounding us and I was about to leave soon.
- Not my type, dear Aziz. - I appreciated him so much.
- No problem, I will send you one.
- Come my husband, I invite you for a dinner.
- Honey I am not hungry.
- Sweetheart you didn’t eat all day. I am hungry.
- We have to go back the same way.
- Oh! All this way climbing back?
- Aren’t you tired?
- With you I am never tired.
The dinner was served. My kuskus and his salad.
- Eat baby, the other way I will feed you. – I insisted. Aziz was obviously in the state of highest bliss. It reminded me of a state described in Indian text, samandhi or something like that. Not really the highest state of enlightenment but pretty high. Aziz was looking at me as if he saw goddess.
- Joanna I love you, you don’t know how much.
How this happened? All I felt was love, seeing shining eyes of Aziz. The feeling was so strong I could easily embrace Aziz and all the world. Love was solid, although beyond possibility to grasp it. Very real, more real than people around. The feeling was flowing so naturally and made me want to give him more and more, like a stream of a water in the river that must flow, cause the current is simply too strong.
- With all my heart I love you so much too Aziz.
This familiar feeling I recently experienced myself while my spiritual practise at home: overwhelming love. For me it was clear that god is right here within us, right now and I am absolutely happy. Because it’s grace I want to enjoy it, cause never know how long it will last.
- I am so happy with you. – who said that?
Aziz didn’t take his ID card and couldn’t stay with me in a hotel. So we were sitting in a hotel’s garden holding hands and trying not to make a space for any sorrow. He had to go soon. And I have one more day alone in Ibis hotel. Scary to go alone to Medina. Aziz was the one who not only knew the way, but was protecting me from all these people who desperately wanted to sell something. Sometimes it was hard to pass through without being called constantly to come in and just see the product.
It was dark, however Moroccans are not kissing in a public. It is against culture and shows disrespect for the public. Aziz was fighting within self and happily, finally I felt his lips on mine. Things were getting complicated. Not only emotionally, physically, but perhaps morally. I was single though, however I loved with pure heart a man I didn’t met yet. However crazy this sound past months I managed to intensify spiritual, loving contact with a man from India. So what shall I do now? I have to tell. I have to be honest to both! My heart was loving, feeling, my mind was going mad.
I had to tell Aziz.
- Is no problem. You gave me so much. Just please don’t forget me. – Aziz smiled to comfort me.
I didn’t handle it very well, especially my eyes and tears were falling down my cheeks.
- Oh honey no! – he kissed my tears away. He didn’t show me his own tears this time. It was night.
- I have to go, but I can’t. If I can, I will come back tomorrow.
- I will call you. – we were standing close to taxies.
Aziz got into taxi and I felt my heart squeezed. I didn’t want to let him go too.
I turned away slowly and moved toward hotel. I turned away again, Aziz got out of taxi. I rushed back.
- What happened?
- This one doesn’t go there. Maybe the next one. – smile and easiness in his voice made me smile too.
- Ok baby, take care. – I hardly could speak through this smile though.
Aziz got into another taxi, I walked to hotel, but something forced me to turn back.
Aziz got out of the taxi. I moved back to him.
- Well, this one doesn’t go too. – he smiled as if he was saying: sorry it doesn’t work well with this leaving you.
- Ok, Aziz, now I am going nowhere. I’ll make sure taxi will move. – I felt like some force of nature is playing with my emotions. After all it was just our intentions. We both couldn’t let go.
Aziz left. Tiredness overtook me, the tears and consciousness that I might never see him again.
I took my time in the morning, not rushing anywhere. Breakfast on the terrace of the hotel with view to the pool and garden. Right after that I went to search a phone, as I promised to call Aziz. At 10 o’clock in the morning sun was already strong. I didn’t see any public phone.
- Excuse me, - I asked two men sitting in the café. – Do you know where I can call.
Both of them immediately showed me opposite directions with their hands. We all laughed. So it doesn’t really matter which way I go, all of them lead to Rome.
It wasn’t easy to call. Phone automat turned out to be money eater and hungrily was demanding a coin every few seconds. Phone number to Aziz turned out to be wrong number. I tried to reach Elmadani, but he didn’t understand in English all, it was bad connection. Stella understood and Elmadani was telling me finally the number, which was also wrong.
I came back to the hotel and quickly wrote email to Aziz.
- Dear Aziz please come back to me. – I hoped he will read it somehow he will get my message, as I was not able to phone him anyhow.
He responded immediately.
- I didn’t sell my painting, but I am coming.
He called me to the hotel.
Now I could fully enjoy the day till early evening Aziz will be here.
I seldom let myself to relax so much. Usually I work, or my mind work intensely on some issues to solve, or I study, practise, learn something new.
This time I enjoyed beauty of the garden. It was too hot to do some jogging through the city, too hot to exercise. However the movement took me over. My body needed to move, feel the grass against my feet, then with my body, my back. Playing with speed and slow motion at times, loosing balance almost all the time, cause the grass was soft not giving proper support for feet. Finally I sat down still supporting my back against big, strong palm tree. The feeling was so good, different parts body were still pulsating. Then the heat really forced me to find a shelter in coolness of the hotel. Refreshing shower and then again relaxing in a big, comfortable bed of my room.
Coffee! I wanted real coffee, so I had in hotel bar, where chatted with handsome stuff of a hotel and writing few inspirational words that came to my mind.
I was checking my mails when Aziz came carrying painting with him.
- That is for you.
I didn’t care whose around, I had to kiss him once I saw him.
Just like yesterday after train trip Aziz needed shower. Just today I didn’t have to ask receptionist to let him in my room. Aziz had his ID and could feel free.
For the first time we were together alone in a hotel room where no one could see us. Refreshed after shower Aziz approached me peacefully and ask so politely.
- Can I hug you?
Feeling his passionate hug, I could stay like this forever. How this could be one hug can say so much to me: I care for you, you are precious for me, I don’t want anything from you, but love to be around you.
And again we were in old Medina city. Taking today different route I was charmed again holding Aziz hand, feeling so safe. Soon I wanted to go back.
- Aziz are you hungry?
- No baby, no hungry. No dinner today.
- Aziz did you eat today?
- I don’t have to eat when I am with you.
- Aziz, look so many tasty fruits. – I started to buy figs, bananas, nectarines, apples. Aziz was looking the best prices. We wanted to go back to hotel.
How often one can take shower in Morocco? Very often and as much as possible. Almost like Muslim prayers 5 times a day…
We were sitting in a hotel room and I tried to feed Aziz who didn’t want to eat much. For the first time, I had impression that a man loves me more than I, cause obviously I was hungry. It reminded me of the words of my grandma. She said once, that man suppose to love a woman always more.
Aziz was preparing figs for me to eat, I tried to feed him as much as I could.
- Baby I am really not hungry. I love you so much that I can give my life for you.
For the first time perhaps I met a man who didn’t calculated if relationship with me will bring him profit, if he will get what he wants. He already knew I have nothing. A man who didn’t try to possess me, educate me, change me any how, but simply accepting me right now, knowing that I will go and truthfully admitting, that he will miss me and all he asks for is that I won’t forget him.
- I love you so much and more. – said Aziz for the thousand time and trust me, it wasn’t boring.
As I felt the same, my mind, influenced so much by west society took over:
- Aziz you don’t even know me.
- I don’t mind. I feel you and I feel so safe with you.
That was the first time a man told me something like that. I was usually the one who wanted to feel safe with a man. This time I didn’t want anything, feeling I have all and all is fine.
We had all night: long talks, tender kisses, passionate touch, peace, laughter, sorrow at times.
- Aziz – I was talking freely – there is a saying that if one wants to check out if lives the right life, he should think what will do, if would have only one more month to live. Tell me, what would you do? – I was thinking that I felt right and don’t regret anything in my life and am happy did always what my heart told me to. Aziz looked so happy when I met him, I was sure he would do the same, living continuously his life. Perhaps he would like to fulfil his dream of travelling abroad.
- I would like to spend all this time with you. – he said. I stood still realizing simplicity and deepness of his love.
- Honey you are so pure, so wonderful. – I spoke slowly these so banal words.
- You are making me wonderful. – Aziz started to laugh and I joined feeling there is kind of new competition going on: who will praise whom more?
- Oh god! – I suddenly scream jumping toward bed. – Do you see that insect?
Huge cockroach was walking on the carpet.
- How beautiful – Aziz observed him closer. – Look, so nice to paint. Maybe he also paid for the room. – he couldn’t stop laughing, put his arms around me and it was so comforting. – It was just our neighbour – Aziz added.
Night was too short and in the morning first thing I did was going out to terrace to do my spiritual practise. Aziz curiously followed me with almost closed eyes, but he had smile for me from the morning. It was so easy to reply with a smile.
- Baby, go back sleep. This will take me one hour.
For Aziz I was looking beautiful in the morning and I felt so.
I was packing and singing and Aziz wanted to record me. Why not? Later on emotions got too strong and I simply said:
- I’m going to cry now.
- No! Baby no! Please…. – I was already crying and saw he cried as much as I. The next moment we hold each other tight, fell on bed, realizing humour of this situation and started to laugh.
Aziz accompanied me to the airport. One of us was stronger at times and entertained the other to not let the cry. Aziz was always cheerful and had comforting voice even when he expressed his deepest worries:
- I don’t want to let you go, but this country is not good for you. Oh god, I don’t know how I will spend another days without you.
I hold his hand tightly and strongly said:
- We will meet soon. – I insisted. – And now eat banana.
- I am not hungry.
- Just one bite for me. – I knew if I leave him like this, he won’t eat anything and till he will get home in Taza, it will be late evening.
Aziz had to get a taxi back, I had to pass control. Time to leave. Tears didn’t matter, so his culture of not kissing in the public. I saw him fighting with his deeply rooted culture, but I just kissed him many times.
Why I am telling you all this? So personal? Not only I want to share my experience of Morocco, but I want to show how to distinguish real love. In my work as a coach and also private person I listened so many stories of broken hearts. So if you have any doubts about the one you love, then really pay attention at the beginning. Real love has no doubts. Is simply is and will make your own love stronger, will make you grow in love, so you will feel as if you embrace not only the beloved one, but your arms are so solid and big to hold all the world together and still you have a lot to give and share. Real love will give you strength.
Is not what the other one says but how you feel with him/her and around him/her and when you think of him/her. How he/she acts what counts, not the promises.
Whether it will last or not, you will know it is real and will stay in your heart forever. This is the treasure that no one ever can take away from you. You don’t have to worry about, no power can steal the richness you received from beloved one.
With these words and best loving wishes,