What a week-end!

As usual things didn’t go according to plan, actually I’m trying to remember the last time things went according to plan. After canceling last week, Hassan said he was coming Saturday night. He called on Saturday, “I’m so sorry. I’m caught up here and I can’t get away.” There was a bit more to it, but it was still a stand-up. “Oh well,” I’m thinking, “that’s all right. I never really thought it would come to anything. We had a great time at the Tadra Gorge, so that’s fine.” He said he would be here on Sunday night but by this time I wasn’t expecting it.

Just before eight o’clock I ran a trip to the hannout for water and coming back to my door met a lovely couple, Nihal and Srima Seneviratne from Sri Lanka who have been in Morocco for ten days visiting with their friend (quite handsome) Peter who lives in both Marrakech and Sri Lanka. From the conversation I can tell you they are quite the world travelers. They know people in Surrey Canada and at Norbulingka in Dharmsala. They were curious to see a “typical” house in the Oudayas and I wish I had been more prepared for company for they were such interesting people. In my life I have found there are people that one is immediately at home with, simpatico, the Spanish say it very well. These were such people. Of course in the Buddhist belief system we think this is because we arrange our own fate in order to learn needed lessons, and thereby meet again with old friends and family. I felt instantly comfortable with them and they made me homesick for India. One of the bad things about having grown up in several countries is that I have more places to be homesick for at times. All three were an advertisement for travel – as we all decided it is more difficult to shoot at a country if you have friends there. I know there was a famous Cricket player in Sri Lanka by the same name, and Nihal did have on a cap from the cricket club, so I am wondering… Peter had some wonderful historical stories about the Oudayas. They left for their destination after a short visit that I enjoyed, as is the wont of that culture, only after inviting me to visit them in Sri Lanka, and Peter said he will call when he is back in Marrakech. I admitted I have never been to Sri Lanka, you know me, the heat. I love how the Universe works, if I had been gone I would not have met these lovely people and whatever that may mean for the future.

Sunday brought surprises right out of A Thousand and one Nights. WUASTC you are going to love this!

At four o’clock Hassan called. He was here; he had a meeting at the palace. “I will send Ali with the car for you yes? I will meet you there.”

I am a girl you know, so I ask, “Where are we going? How should I dress?”

“It is best you wear sandals and slacks. You know the outfit you had on when we went to the Gorge would be fine,” he said.

“Jeans? You mean sandals and jeans?”

“Yes, I think that will work fine,” he said.

All right I admit it, I was a little disappointed. I’m thinking, “He’s been gone for three months and we are going out to somewhere I should wear jeans?” Inshallah.

Ali arrived just before sunset, which was good because I was starving by that time. The car headed off in a direction unfamiliar to me. Ali parked the car at what appeared to be just a small indenture off the highway.

“Where are we going?”

“Madame I have strict instructions to tell you nothing,” he said with a grin that split his jovial face in two. He led me up a small hill where we looked down on the beach and the ocean; my mouth dropped open at the sight on the beach. Hassan was standing at the bottom on the other side of the hill, smiling, and held out his hand for me.

That’s right, you have to come back tomorrow! I promise you it’s worth it. I’m sorry but I have a mid-term paper on European Industrialization and Imperialism to finish today.

Ciao lovely readers.