The taxi drivers of Morocco. I love them. I shall miss them, like my fleet of private drivers. Some obviously trained for Le Mans, others like my driver today is a frustrated language instructor. He took me through my shria Arabe, and worked to increase my vocabulary while taking me through my present working speech in French and Darjia. I have long since given up telling them that I DO speak five languages, just NONE OF THEM ON THIS CONTINENT. Too sweet and too funny. Just one more thing to miss about this wonderful and varied land.
Here are snapshots for you of my darling neighbours who chat with me in French. More to miss…
1 comment:
I've really enjoyed looking through your blog-- great job, and nice reference to chance encounters at Bert's in Agdal-- it seems that if recognition were to happen anywhere, it might as well be there!
I was just talking to a friend yesterday about how much we loved the taxi drivers in Morocco; I have always felt so at ease with them and have been able to get into several deep and meaningful conversations without it being suffixed by, "Can I get your number?"
Anyway, I saw that you just shipped several boxes by freight and I was wondering if you had any suggestions... I'm starting a rug-importing business from Morocco and am looking for any help that I can get!
Thanks,
Alia
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