After another killer workout (I don’t know, sometimes I just get on a tear) I stripped down for the hamman thinking if it’s as good as last time that will be great. After this experience I have decided that when next someone ask me, “Why are you staying in Morocco,” the answer, “The hamman,” will suffice! Samira led me inside to the salon at the end of the hallway, so thick with steam I could not see the other walls and filled the wooden pail with warm water, then dumped it over my head and lathered me down with the black, thick, granular substance they use for soap. I sat in the steam, pores opening, and almost nodded off until Samira returned to take me inside to the marble tables. After a scrub down that would remove even the thought of dirt, dead skin cells, or residue from perspiration, she hosed me down. There was some stooping involved as I stood some six inches taller. Then came the oiling down and a massage that made my sore muscles cry out in ecstasy and made me think, “I am not paying enough for this.” She then lathered me up with a mint smelling something and massaged again – there was an action included that involved pulling me around the thin mattress now covering the marble table and left me, and consequently Samira and the other ladies nearby in giggles. I felt like a piece of dough being rolled about an oiled pastry board. One of my most favorite things about the hamman is the continuing onslaught of wonderful smells. Next came the almond paste facemask and a final oiling down, and the cold spray at the end. “Ce bon?” Yeahsureyoubetcha’!! Samira then wrapped me in a fluffy white robe and led me to the resting salon where I lay down on the couch to revel in my state of relaxation. She then ask to bring me my clothes to help me dress, as the lady in the next bed was having done. On that one I decline, too much of control person am I. Afterward I felt righteously clean, and I wonder how it is that no one in the West has thought to commercialize this? I mean you could easily sell this kind of indulgence to the upper crust ladies of New York, Paris, Boston, and London. Come on you entrepreneurs out there, get on it as I don’t think I can leave Morocco until I am assured of the hamman somewhere else.
Afterwards I headed for the Marjane of Souissi and ran into a traffic jam? A short-lived traffic jam true, and handled by the Moroccan methodology of simply driving on the shoulder of the freeway around it! I decided to give in to convenience when I saw that the local stores were stocked up with desks. I assume for the upcoming school year. My bum is becoming sore from the chair in the house and I have to have a desk at the proper height. I spend the majority of my day here, so… I entered the Kitea and to my right was a forest of desk of all shapes and sizes, as well as chairs. I spent the next half-hour sitting, moving, and air-typing until I found the perfect height, space, and back and bum support. Huzzah!
The fresh faced, handsome Karim was a good piece beyond helpful. “Do you deliver?”
“Of course Madam.”
“And what is your delivery cost?”
“It is not, it is free – unless you are in a hurry.”
“Excellent. What about assembling the desk and chair? Does it require that? Does it arrive put together or …?”
“Madam do not even think about it. We will deliver, and place it, and do whatever is required.” How much do you love hearing that? “And this is for you,” he said handing me a black-wire, perfect size for the bedroom CD holder.
“Thank you! That’s lovely isn’t it.”
“You are having a lucky day,” says Karim smiling.
“Indeed I am, you have no idea.” He then gave me the delivery time – to the hour – my receipt, and the lovely man waiting in line reminded me when I almost walked off without my gym bag.
A quick turn through Marjane garnered a delicious chicken pastilla for dinner and some great fruit. I don’t know how those people cook, serve, and are around that food all day! It was torture for me just rolling through. I have to just not think about it until sunset. There are some honey sweet apples in season just now, sort of a red striped color.
I’m off, I have homework to do.