Part IV

to refresh your memory, Part I - III.



Part IV (for all of you incurable romantics who have been nudging me, and you know who you are (– jmb, sparx, jenny, wuastc, debio,…)

The breeze blowing in off the sea was cool on my face, and the moonlight was bathing the rocks in a soft glow as Hassan took my hand and we walked along the beach. The Moroccan night sky was doing its usual number – a light show of uncountable bright stars on a bed of black velvet stretching along a limitless horizon. It’s been a while since I took a romantic walk on the beach, all right it’s been a long time since a man held my hand; both actions were having an effect on my psyche and my physical vital signs (increased heart rate, flushed face, nervous tension in the abdomen). I felt my skin in such awareness I was sure I could feel the moonlight touching me on the backs of my legs.

“How long are you going to stay?” Hassan asked without looking at me.

“No chit chat, no small talk first? You want to go right for the blueprint?”

“If you are leaving Africa it puts a different perspective on my blueprint yes. I found in my absence from you that I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I’d like to know your favorite color, and the first time you ate ice crème, the name of the first boy you kissed, and why you have no husband now. I want to know if your eyes always change from brown to green in the sunlight or only when you wear blue. He stopped walking and put his arms around my…. Blackout

This is not a story lovely readers, it’s my life so there are some things you will have to imagine for yourselves.

When we returned to the tent there was café au lait and Delamain Re’serve de la Famille cognac. “How did you get a bottle of the Reserve?! I haven’t even seen a bottle of this in years. I didn’t think Delamain sold the Reserve?”

“The vineyard began selling it in 1984.”

“That explains it, that’s about the time I stopped drinking obscenely expensive brandy,” I grimaced. “You aren’t having any?” I asked as I noticed the one glass on the table.

“I take Ramadan seriously.”

“That’s something we’re going to have to talk about isn’t it? I mean other than the fact I’m staying in Morocco for an indeterminate period of time, if we are going to continue seeing each other – it’s the elephant in the room isn’t it? I’m a Buddhist, you’re a Muslim. Q put it succinctly when she said you could either covert me or kill me. Is that true, or is there another option? Oh gods this is delicious!” I said as the cognac exploded in my mouth. It was a gastronomical orgasm as it flowered in the back of my mouth and paved a heated path to my stomach.

Hassan smiled then started to laugh so hard he had to put his coffee down on the table so that he didn’t spill it. “Gods you are magnificent! You are the only woman I’ve ever met who when beginning a serious discussion of the impact of our personal religious and political differences, and the worlds apart difference that can have on our budding relationship, stops for a sensuous appreciation of a singular taste.”

I stopped with the glass halfway to my mouth for a second sip, “And that’s a good thing?” Yes, yes, I was giving him my “aren’t I adorable smile”. I’m pleased to report it still works.

I’d love to tell you we settled our differences, it all worked out; that religion and politics don’t matter – but that’s a Danielle Steele novel. We decided we could put it off a bit longer and just enjoy the night. Ali drove me home around two a.m. and, of course, walked me to the door and insisted on checking the house before he would leave. I like that chap.

Hassan has gone back to Saudi Arabia. His six-month mission has been extended to a year by the king. Never fear, romantics among you, we have a date in Istanbul or Madrid (my choice ☺ the last week in November or early December. I find him more attractive each time I see him, and his depth and sensitivity are hard to resist. Yes, sparx, he kisses like you would expect _ warm, soft, lingering, and it makes me dizzy. Sigh.

Ciao

passions and fears

Passed to me From Wake Up and Smell the Coffee

8 things I’m passionate about
1- my child
2- separation of church and state/freedom of religion
3- child abuse of any ilk/secular education for all children
4- books, art, music, writing, beauty in all its forms
5- the necessity for us ALL to THINK, in relation to religion, politics, bigotry, culture, et al.
6- freedom of self-determination and respect for ALL persons/the present downward spiral of civil liberties in the West
7- good shoes
8- good manners

8 things to do before I die
1- get as close as I can to a state of spiritual self determinism
2- make the New York Times Best Seller List (more than once)
3- do as much good as I can (whatever monies I can give, whatever kindnesses I can bestow)
4- put my opinion out in the world and hope it has a positive affect on people and how they treat those they love, those they hate, and those they do not know
5- go back to New Zealand
6- Take Q to Machu Picchu, and take my grandchildren climbing in the Himalayas
7- never stop learning; never stop flirting; never stop appreciating
8- find some physical proof of a fantastic truth I have told Q, but that she must take for true solely on my word – to give her that piece of mind.

8 things I say often
1- “Bloody hell !” (since Q’s departure has replaced, “Sit up straight dearest.”)
2- “Thank you.” (in several languages)
3- “Let’s move it people.” Or “Make a hole.”
4- “I do NOT speak French, but I DO speak Spanish, English, Tibetan, some Hindi, some Chinese, and Pashto!” (said with a tinge of defensiveness it’s true, as in – because I do not speak French does not mean I am a dunce, but I am learning the language out of politeness)
5- “Bonjour.”
6- bad word that begins with an ‘f’, in several variations
7- “May I help you?”
8- brilliant

8 books I’ve read recently
1- Infidel by Ali
2- All the Shah’s Men by Kinzer
3- White Gold by Milton
4- (re-read) Inner Revolution by Thurman
5- Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling
6- Inside Terrorism by Hoffman
7- Brotherhood of the Holy Shroud by Navarro (reading)
8- At Home in Milford by Karon (reading)

8 songs I could listen to over and over
1- the arias from La Traviata (all of them) (Callas and Domingo)
2- Scottish songs: Amazing Grace, Bonnie Dundee, Ye Jacobites by Name, … (The Corries)
3- Someone to Watch Over Me (Sinatra)
4- Lhasa Pumo (Yungchen Lhamo)
5- La Vie En Rose (Edith Piaf) and La Marseillaise
6- This Time Around (Linda Eder) (makes me cry)
7- Chain of Fools (Aretha Franklin) (makes me dance)
8- Candy (Big Maybelle)
(and Pretty Woman (Orbison), Folsom Prison (Cash), and Great Balls of Fire (Lewis) my list, my rules ☺

8 qualities I look for in a best friend
1- loyalty
2- loyalty
3- an appreciation of my dry/warped sense of humor
4- compassion
5- loyalty
6- has to love my child
7- a similar, but not necessarily identical, worldview
8- must love animals and children

8 people I’m passing this on to
1 – jmb
2 – welshcakes
3 – kaycle
4 – annie
5 – debiO
6 – omega mum
7 – mountain mama
8 – mama zen

Now that was fun, while this is too frightening for words. The slow but sure loss of civil liberties across not only America, but in Britain as well, is in danger of becoming permanent, something I don’t think we can permit. We need some of those radical hippie people from the 1960’s (I was not one, I missed the sixties – I was reading – in India). If not that, we need to do some severe speaking out in print, and with our votes.

for the day..

Really not very reassuring: So, What About Those Nukes?

Attempt at survival, denial, or humans takeing the Road less Traveled?: here

Torture not a laughing matter? try this

The photo journey

CASABLANCA, VANCOUVER, BOSTON, AND BACK AGAIN: 09/11/2007 12:25

I did not do well in Vancouver I fear - photo wise - but my mind was elsewhere, and you can always go to jmb's site for the best photographs of that area.

Here we go..

It worked!
I had an idea, like you do, that I would bribe the Universe. I mean why not? It’s just creating karma eh? Before leaving Boston, I bought a large bag of Lindt dark chocolate truffles and decided I would give one to everyone during the day that I had an exchange with (the airline ticket agent, the young woman at Starbucks, the baggage man, the security guy outside the gate, etc.); this was my idea to get my bags to arrive Casablanca at the same time I did – a feat which has never happened before I might add. And it worked! So cool! Along the way I also made several people smile and arrived home in Rabat with only two truffles left, and ALL MY BAGS. Not only did my bags arrive as I did, but they were first off the aeroplane! Now that’s results.

I was surprised, and pleased, at how glad I felt to be back in Morocco. You should see my little house; not only did Abdul Latif, the world’s nicest landlord, put in the promised central heat and air, but he cleaned up after the painter (did all the white walls) and the handyman! And, he repaired the door bell, and closed the terrace grill for the winter. Now THAT’S service! He was so cute when I presented him with a giant jar of Skippy peanut butter: “You remembered,” he said quietly and then grinned like a six-year-old on Christmas morning.

Back to the baggage story for a moment, not only did I get all my books and tea in the bags, but the red one weighed in at 69#, and the other at 67# (the limit on RAM is 70#); I’m reasonably sure, after hefting it a few times, that my carry-on was above the legislated 40# as it was packed with books. Can I pack or can I pack?

I hardly know where to start to bring you up to date! A brief overview yes? The trip to the conference in Vancouver was exhausting, but informative and enjoyable; I would say I really got my money’s worth (no higher complement from a Scot). Meeting the wonderful jmb and her scientist guy was a highlight I must say. She is every bit as wonderful, effervescent, and beautiful as we all thought. She and her scientist guy showed me a great time, which was most welcome after the demands of the conference.

Then on to Boston where Cath’ and Bob picked me up at Logan International in the rain! More rain, I was so happy. Up the road to the picturesque village of Dunstable which for the rest of my stay showed the most glorious fall weather, and was dressed in the deep, and comforting colors of the changing of the season. I ran every day along the old French road trying to drink in the colors through not only my eyes, but storing them in my mind. I did get caught a couple of times by the locals, talking to the cows… but I really like cows you know. Could be all my time in India, I grant you, albeit the cow poop in the streets never really endeared me to Brahman. No, it it’s the bucolic appearance and gentle, non-threatening aura of the country cows; I think even more so now that the world seems full of threat.

Cath’ and Bob did their usual number of feeding me up with all the delicious food I like best. I was quite surprised to find I still fit in my jeans when I dressed for the plane home – but that’s what the running was for, eh? I spent an inordinate, and blissful amount of time in the local Barnes and Noble bookstore. I did get new running shoes - $ 180.00! My goodness, I do remember when running shoes were outrageous at 30 pounds. My rule is you spend the money for the best on shoes, bras, and moisture crème (La Mer) – support you know is essential. And I splurged on a new pair of pumps that were just too cute to resist. A quick visit to Banana Republic, which I tell you ladies is the best place for jeans for bodies past forty, regardless of price, to refill my jeans supply. I bought every box of Chai tea I could find (unfortunately bags, but what are you to do..?), and that B&N Hot Cinnamon Tea, delicious.

I pulled my old but still lovely blue Spode teapot from the cedar chest and brought it back with me along with a couple of sterling silver tea spoons; because really, we have to have civilization don’t we (or the British version of it that I am comfortable with…). I also brought back some additional spiritual comfort, as Buddhist Temples are thin on the ground in Morocco. A lovely rendition of the goddess Saraswati, goddess of creativity and inspiration; a timely choice I thought, as well as a miniature prayer wheel, and a replication of the goddess Tara for protection, and a larger portrait of His Holiness for above the altar.

My visit to the dentist, the wonderful Dr. Crane of North Chelmsford, went well. He repaired in good order the tooth I had broken over a year ago, and told me I have very healthy gums – always good new eh? I am a white knuckler dental patient; so when I say he has a reassuring manner, take me at my word. The man could work OB delivering babies, or the terminal ward easing the dying! His lovely daughter Amy is assisting him just now in the office and in complete deadpan he replied to my question, “Are you enjoying working in the office with your father?” He said, “Oh yes, it’s a dream come true for Amy. She is thrilled to be here every day.” It took me a minute all right, but I was terrified and sedated after all! Just what you want, a funny dentist! They are a great team and I survived in good shape.

My other medical visit to the ophthalmologist was equally reassuring if not as amusing. I don’t have a detached retina as I feared, but I shall continue to have this floater for some indeterminate time. As it resembles a (thankfully) shrinking gnat, I am thinking of naming it – a constant companion after all.

Reading! So it begins.. I have a recommendation for you, INFIDEL by Ayaan Hirsi Ali. It is the story of a young woman’s survival; it is of further interest that the young woman is African and Muslim. My impression, aside from the obvious insights into their culture, was the realization (once again) that while political and cultural correctness (and simple good manners) are required of us, we must engender that with the knowledge of fact and not ignore that in bending too far the other way. As I am guilty of this myself, it made the point especially to me. I am so antithetical to bigotry and ignorance that I sometimes skim over the ugly facts of a culture or religion in order not to give ammunition to those who would use such to further their own ignorant and hateful agenda. As thinking people we must see the gray. I really hate that you know, it is exhausting. I totally understand the allure of fundamentalism, of any ilk – religious or political. The sheer relief of knowing you are right and they are wrong; no more decisions, no thinking, no reversal of opinion, no discussion, no giving over or giving in, and no possible exceptions. Unfortunately my education and upbringing do not allow me the luxury, and so I continue to examine the grey areas – as must all thinking beings eh? And so back to the book, it must also be seen (as Q has reminded me since I tend to leap to my soapbox, sword afire and words of passion and right to the ready) that publishers print what will sell – and a woman, an Arab or African woman who does not write about genital mutilation is less likely to get published. This does not make what Ali has to say any less true, or any less valuable, but it means that we, the readers, must take into account the environment in which her book was written, edited, and published. Exhausting eh?

Oh my I have rambled on past 1000 words, and I do try to keep posting to that limit. More tomorrow then?

Ciao.

Please act now

I am back, in all the ways that is meant, and I was going to post a cheery update until I read this. Please go now, read, and follow your sense of right.

For something uplifting go here.

I will post cheery tomorrow.

back in the air

On my way to the Boston airport shortly, and then a good wait at JFK for my eight p.m. flight to Casablanca - but that's fine, lots to do! Everyone cross your fingers, legs, and eyes that my bags arrive will you? Or use whatever your superstitious bent may be.

I have much to tell you, and many stories. As jmb has pointed out, I have an adventure cloud that follows me, and it has been busy - but all to the good.

I leave behind the glorious colors of fall after drinking them in as much as I could, and find myself looking forward to the greens of winter in Morocco. This is the most glorious time of year, weather wise, in my new home.

The baby is well and graduate school is coming along nicely. She and her grandmother are knee deep in wedding plans: I'm sending money. I think the best way to insure it is HER wedding is for her mother to maintain physical distance, as I tend to be a fixer, as well as an organizer. I am once again wiring my jaw shut, nodding my head and listening when appropriate. She has a new kitten in the bathtub! Yes, just as we suspected - there is an international bulletin that has gone out over the animal network: Need a home? Find Q. She is really quite grand.

I shall post a bit a bit from JFK, if all goes well.... Otherwise I shall spend next week playing catch-up.

Ciao.