Life As It Comes

Of My Time in Midelt (Part 2)5 Comments

After we finished the meal I last wrote about, Cory and I walked around the “souk” a little bit. There were many fresh vegetables and fruits as well as scads and scads of popcorn. We walked back to the photo store to get a few more pictures for his ID, and then we headed home.

Later in the day, we went to see Eysha and the others for tea. They had good fun trying to teach me more Arabic words and seemed surprised that I remembered all of their names by now. Cory calls one of them the Arabic word for “tomato” which rhymes with her real name, so I actually learned that quicker than I learned her real name. Before I left, they brought me a purse which they had made for me as a gift, which was exceedingly kind of them. They had shared bread, butter, and tea with us for several days and had given me a piece of their work as a gift when Cory explained that they barely get by.

That evening we walked back to the center of Midelt, and Hayat called Cory asking him to take me to her carpet shop so I could pick out a gift (Hayat was away at a craft fair). We went by to say hello (and not to mention the call), except that Hayat had already called her father (another man named Moha) to instruct him to give me a gift. The whole proceeding was slightly over my head, but this is what I am able to recount:

Hayat’s father thought for some time, then took us over to the adjacent shop that they also own and produced two carpets with great pageantry and took them back to Hayat’s shop to place on the counter. Cory seemed aghast at the selections he had made and said many things in Arabic, telling him that the gifts were too nice and that I was only his brother. He kept saying zuena (pretty/beautiful) and shukran bizaff-ga (thanks a lot; the “ga” makes it like “hell of a lot”). Hayat’s father seemed to have said that Cory was a great person, and that I was his brother and that I was a great person. He would be honored if I would choose one of the two carpets. Cory continued to protest slightly, saying it was too nice and explaining to me a little at a time in English just exactly what it was I was being offered. Finally, he told Cory in Arabic “if you will shut up, your heart can speak your thanks.” Cory was very moved and touched his heart several times.

As we walked back to his apartment, he explained to me that the blanket we chose for me of the two was made 20 years earlier by nomadic tribes in the mountains. The wool was hand-sheared, hand-twisted into yarn/thread, hand-dyed so that the colors would be precise and exactly right, and hand woven into this blanket which would have been worn by a nomadic bride on her wedding day. He said that no matter what people offer them for a blanket like this, they will not sell it unless they have a conversation with the person first and feel as though they are worthy of such a purchase. To be honest, the depth of such a gift still eludes me. I was a foreign visitor to their city. They barely met me, just a few times.

However, it is an example of just how thoroughly Cory has been adopted into the lives of the people he lives and works among. “Baba” that Cory calls his host father (Baba Moha), literally means “daddy” or “papa.” Moha told Cory once that he had never had children so Cory would be “as [his] son.” He told me also that most people use a word for him that means he is a “son of Midelt.” Any gifts I was given, any good-will I was shown spoke of the kindness of these people but also of the difference that Cory has made and how he has touched so many lives.

If my reaction to arriving at Midelt was one of awe of Cory and his resolve to embark on this journey (when I would have turned around scared), my reaction to leaving Midelt was one of pride in my brother and appreciation for his desire to remain among these people for the extent of his term and for his sense of duty or calling to continue even when times were difficult and when there were those at home begging him to return.

(The order of some of this may be skewed; I can’t remember whether some of these events happened Wednesday afternoon/evening or Thursday afternoon/evening. Maybe Cory can help?)

Thursday was another day of goodbyes. We got up and went for tea with Moha. He drew me a picture, which I have kept. It was of him, his scooter/motorcycle/moped, and the cat. The Haj came as we were leaving and he asked me through Cory a few questions about things - how far I live from Mom and Dad, questions about Texas, et cetera. Then, he concluded by saying “How wonderful it is that Allah has given each place its own [upstanding] people.” Deep thought, I remember thinking. We said goodbye and walked up to the fossil/mineral/rock store to see about getting me a chess set. I did see some other carved stones that I purchased and we ran into Eysha at the store. She and Cory and I all did the secret handshake she does - hands, fingers, snap, two chest pounds, and a sideways peace sign.

Later in the day, we decided we would set up Cory’s pool (that he had purchased in Fez [Fes]) on the roof. The Haj came by to loan us a hose and to help hook it up to Cory’s toilet faucet and run it up to the roof. We calculated the volume and weight of water with him to figure out whether the roof would hold, and the Haj seemed pleased with Cory’s idea. I annoyingly pestered Cory about getting a tarp to cover the pool and make sure no birds or anything would come bathing (or dying), and he made me realize that I needed to relax a little about all that. Later in the afternoon, he went after a tarp; the pool was leaking slightly but the leak stopped as the pool adjusted withing a few days of me leaving. That evening we went out to get our tickets for the overnight bus to Tangier and had some chickpea soup and some “Hawaii” drink at a local cafe. Two local girls were discussing Cory (having heard of him), assuming he wouldn’t be able to understand, but then they asked for salt from our table, and a conversation began. They seemed nice and interested in talking to both of us, but I couldn’t really contribute much. We headed home with our tickets for a bit and then went back out to catch the bus at 11.

The bus trip was through Meknes, one of Cory’s favorite cities, and we happened to break down about 2:30 AM there. Three people (the driver and two others) hitched a ride somewhere and came back on foot an hour later with a bottle of oil. They put the oil in, started the bus, but then stopped it again. People slept on the bus until around 5 or 6. Someone showed up in a car and seemed to offer some assistance or maybe a part. The bus was started again at 7 or so (just as a shepherd was bringing his sheep past the gas station we were stopped at), and we left. After stopping for breakfast, Cory and I went around to the back of the bus while we were waiting for everyone to board again and watched the Moroccans look at the repairs they had made. Cory said “Any time a bus breaks down, it’s either the duodenum or the flux capacitor.” We were on our way again, and arrived back in Tangier around 10:30 or 11. As we walked out of the bus station, we saw people unloading another bus, and Cory said, “You know what that is? A bag of chickens.” We walked through the city, back to the port. I bought Cory a bus ticket to Fez, and we had some lunch.

Then I headed through the ferry security check and waited for the ferry to arrive and de-board its passengers and cars/buses. I waved to Cory as I boarded (he had waited some time to watch me get on the ferry). I looked again, and he was gone to wait for his bus.

I arrived in Algeciras via the Tarifa bus (after having paid special attention this time looking for Gibraltar) too late to catch the afternoon train to Madrid. I met two girls from Texas and helped them find the bus station before buying my train ticket and checking into a hostel.

The journey back to Madrid was equally beautiful as the journey to Algeciras had been. I arrived back in the city and checked into a hostel that was half the price that my original hotel had been and nearly as nice. I spent the afternoon seeing the Reina Sofia and then wound up in my room later that evening watching several “telepremio” shows and some American movie in Spanish which escapes me now.

I arrived back in Austin at around 8:30 Sunday night after having traveled around 21 hours (not including the bus ride from Midelt and the train to Madrid).