PHOTOGRAPHS TO THE RIGHT...
The saga of the water heater/cold shower anyone? Poor JT has not had a hot, or even warm, shower since her arrival here! I begin to feel like the landlady of Marquis de Sade, or what was the name of the head of David Copperfield’s orphanage? I fiddled about with it a bit, but with the story of sweet Azi in my head, I kept it at a minimum. She moved from Fez to Tangiers and had a run in with her gas water heater that left her sans eyebrows and with a healthy fear of Moroccan heating devices. My machinations proved unsuccessful and I called in Abdul, who knows his own limits, and after having a short go at it, “I will return tomorrow at ten with the, you know, someone who will, a technician for repairs. Or I may come back later if I, you know, find a person.” I haven’t had it on for a long while as I use the showers and hammam at Moving so it may have been broken for some while.
I informed JT of the translation, which is, “I have no idea what is the problem and I’m going to ask around and see if any of the other men want to fix it. If they do, I’ll bring them back tonight, if not I will bite the bullet and make a call in the morning to someone who has actually done it before.” He did arrive shortly after ten, next morning, with the plumber/repairman in tow who looks to be the age of the chaps I used to hire to mow the lawn. After mucking about (doing exactly what I had done), he tried to re-light the pilot light (which I had already tried) unsuccessfully. At which point he climbed up the stairs and took the device off the wall… You were expecting an actual water heater with a tank? Oh no, this device heats the water as it flows through! He borrowed a plastic bag, loaded up all the parts, disconnected my gas tank – which I don’t understand, but all right – and promised to return tomorrow at twelve. We’ll see.
And on Thursday…as JT takes off for adventures in Marrakech and the southern coast and I had a morning ride in a taxi playing American Rap, I await the results.
“Ah yes it is …” and he finished the sentence with the international pursing of the lips and swoop of the fingers that means ‘magnificent’, ‘all’s well’, and ‘yeahsureyoubetcha’, Abdul pointed to the re-installed device. But alas it was not so. The poor young chap who entered the house with the repaired device and climbed the stairs with that spring in his step of a job well done was a few minutes after reinstalling the precarious device on the wall and reattaching the tank of gas – looking perplexed and annoyed as he flicked the switch on and off, on and off, on and off – and stared at the offending black space as if it had done him a personal affront. No fire, no hot water. Um hummm. But after an hour and some fine-tuning, success and water hot enough to scald – well hot enough to bathe. And here’s real service, Abdul and the repairman (who was getting bread from the hannout) stopped by in the evening to check that the heater was working. So all is well and all are clean on Rue Oulad Mataa in Morocco.
And WHAT is going on out in front of the fort? They have been digging there since we moved here last March granted, but now it appears to be serious. Oh dear gods please don’t let it be a car park. They would not do that to me would they? If you can see over the edges they have uncovered walls in that first dig at the front – meaning either there used to be a basement in the front, or the buildup of soil from the beach has been extraordinary. In any case, they (whomever they are, since we are a World Heritage Site, I assume the government?) have torn down the fence and brought in the big machines with shovel mouths. I shall keep you updated. If it’s a car park, I’m going to consider a good cry and a move!
In addition to the hoards of spring visitors that have been coming through the gardens below and to the Oudayas, I took some shots of a local school group for you.
Meanwhile back in Italy….Part IV is coming..