To Be...

This past week has been a blur of planning, people, children, new friends, closer relationships, team work, alien mask making, rocket building, skits, lots of prayers for strength, great new memories, and in the end a lot of joy. I am being constantly reminded of the strength and depth of God's grace and in the midst of all the activity I am getting to see a deeper definition of His true peace.

 




On this day to rest I was reminded of something I wrote this past month while at Calahonda beach and as I read it today I thought I'd share...
  "To be in a place, to drink it in, to let it be with you and you with it
                                         To be present
                                        To be fully here
                                     Not split, not broken
                                     But whole, complete
     A soul without fracture, held together completely by love
   Surrounded entirely by a peace without end, limit, or even understanding
                                             To be alive
                                           To choose life
                                 And to live, and to thrive,
                           To not be held back by other times
                                       Foolish and real fears
                                              To be free
                       To discover the true definition of freedom
                    No chains or weights or condemnations
                                                To rest
                                            But also to fly"

March 4th, Tuesday

            Before the sun was even starting to threaten its awakening we were awoken to what sounded like a loud chorus of bells and music or maybe even a street party. There were bells ringing, horns blowing and what sounded like many many people singing a different song at the same time or even the  same song just with different timing. I was confused and a bit startled, but since I was so tired all I could do was toss, turn, and hope the “party” would be over soon. Once it finished I happily went back to sleep until the official start of the day. 

After getting up and ready Sarah and I headed downstairs for yet another wonderful breakfast. We were the first ones there and as we were enjoying the morning in the sitting room off the patio, our talking must have woken up Joussef, who quickly got us seated at a table on the patio and started making breakfast. The breakfast was almost exactly the same except we had pistachio yogurt, another type of pancake type thing that was full of holes, and bananas. We ate leisurely enjoying the beautiful morning. I read some Psalms and then watched the water in the fountain. 

Soon it was time to go out and meet with our tour guide. Joussef once again led us back through the now more familiar streets to the place where the taxi dropped us off, which then felt like 2 years ago. The tour guide and van were waiting. Joussef talked with the guide, we payed the tall, dark, and balding man, and sat down in the van. Other people got in the van and then we were off.

I wish I could accurately describe what I saw, but it was so much to take in and it all passed by so quickly. There were lots of houses, people, construction sites, donkeys, and motor bikes. There was so much dust, little shacks that whizzed by, even more people, kids driving motor bikes way too big for them, more dust, dirt, trash, fancy cars, fancy homes, shops, and large empty spaces or fields of just rocks, dirt, trash, and people. Making our way through it all we pulled into a gas station to fill up before our trip. I had to chuckle when I saw an empty cup that had held tea sitting on the pump, they really do drink it all the time! I noticed that the pump took a very long time and curiously the gas pump was right beside the driver-side door. 

Anyways once we were full, we kept on moving past the very wealthy country club residences, past the slums, and finally past the big city. We drove out into the country where it was green and the roads weren’t the best. We saw many people working the fields. I saw for the first time dogs. There was a fog climbing around the hills and we were just able to glimpse the Atlas Mountains. We passed through small towns and saw the children running out of school, hand in hand laughing and full of childhood joy. 

We finally stopped on the edge of the road to pick up a very important member of our tour group…the actual guide. Evidently the guy to pick us up was just the driver but Hamad was our actual guide. So at that point we all got out and were instructed to follow Hamad. As we followed him on the dusty street he spoke to us each in our own language, French, English, and Spanish.

He led us along seeing little things along the way in the very small and dusty town. We saw a lot of roosters, a couple of older women and two children, but to me the town seemed a little abandoned. The streets which were more like small mountain paths were empty mostly until we got to a house where I could hear other tour guides leading their little sheep, I mean tourists, like us through as well. 

As we entered the small house I noticed it was a barn at the bottom, a house where the family actually stays on the side, and if you went upstairs on the roof terrace there was a restaurant type set up. We were led into the room where there was a large clay pot type thing  on one side that was big enough to fit one person in with a “fireplace” underneath on one side. This we learned was the family’s hammam, where they would bath themselves. To our left there was a calf in its little room and supposedly there was a donkey but it was illusive. We then headed the stairs made of the same mud brick as the walls. We walked past tables on the roof-top terrace into a small room that was the kitchen. Here is where the ladies in colourful dresses and head coverings were making a flat bread and the typical mint tea. 

Out of the kitchen the roof terrace was set up very much like a restaurant, we came to our table and took our tiny, low to the ground, stools by the low table. It was at this point I was able to finally see better everyone who was in our group. There was a lovely French family of 4, a Mom, Dad, and two adopted children, a couple from England, a couple from the Island of Mann, a couple from Spain, and us. We sat beside the couple from Spain and Sarah started off by asking them where they were from in Spanish. They said, Extremadura, and expressed how good it was for them to speak to someone in Spanish. After talking for a bit they invited us to visit them sometime and later gave us their information. They were so friendly and open and it once again reminded me of my love for the Spanish people. I thanked God for His reminder and for open doors. 

During our conversation we were brought more tea, freshly baked (made) flat bread and oil, butter, or honey to dip it in. We were even told that they had bee hives and that they harvested the honey right there. It was of course delicious and very picturesque looking out over the hills dotted with other tiny towns. 

It was however in this moment that I realised I needed to use their restroom and so after asking where it was, Sarah and I made our way downstairs to the “restroom.” What we found behind that curtain door however was two places to put your feet and a hole. Agreeing that we both did not need to go that bad we quickly headed back upstairs. Later after we were heading out I realised I couldn’t wait. So after seeing the French lady’s daughter exit the “bathroom” and her giving me a knowing and sympathetic smile of encouragement I went for it. Although smelly, it was fine. 

Then it was back to the van. We drove along beside a river that was lined with restaurants on the other side, and the oddest thing…couches, sofas just right along the river pulled up to the water like beach chairs. It was such a very funny sight and it looked even a bit precarious. Although not as precarious as the bridges that were provided to get to them. They looked truly like something from a Indiana Jones movie, rope bridges with falling, small planks or sticks to walk across, I kind of expected to see indian arrows flying toward us as we got closer. We were assured it was safe and so of course we had to have a photo shoot on one of these bridges. I felt like a true explorer walking across the shifting sticks over the somewhat rushing water, that is until I saw little kids playing on it and my picture that looked kind of like a soccer mom with a fanny pack. 

Anyways after that the time had finally come for me to have my encounter with Carol the camel. (I’m not really sure if that was her name or that she was really a she…) I did though get to have my picture taken on her, but because of our lack of money at this point I couldn’t go on a ride. 

Ok after that we continued down the road until we came to a village where we got out of the van and went into what looked like just the door to a house. When we entered though the first thing to hit me was the aromatic smell, it was a spice garden. I could have closed my eyes and just enjoyed the beauty but I would’ve missed how pretty it all was to see as well. How amazing is it, that God has blessed us with so many ways to experience beauty, from sight to smell, taste and touch! It wasn’t very big and our tour guide took us around the small garden and tried her best to explain in English what they had there. I saw and smelled all kinds of things from lemon grass to lavender, all of them clearly marked in sections. 

We walked past a couple of ladies demonstrating how they ground the spices on a stone wheel to make it into a paste-like substance. Then we were led into a room upstairs where the guide gave us a sales pitch and then allowed us to look around at all the spices to see if we wanted to buy some. I went outside instead and talked some to the couple from the Island of Mann, Holly and her boyfriend. After that I sat down on a low stone fence to soak it all in from the feel of the sun cascading down on me to the smell of the spices, to the little ladies grinding away at the spices. While I was enjoying all this I even made a new friend. A little kitten came up to me and climbed in my lap and curled up in a ball for a nap. It was precious. 

Then it was time to go and I had to say goodbye to my new furry friend. So back in the van we went; off to our next destination which happened to be a restaurant. We were led down several levels of the patio at the restaurant until we came to the bottom closest to the river. It was beautiful under the shadow of the Atlas Mountains, hearing the river closing below us, and seeing the willow tree waving as us in the breeze. 

While we were admiring all the beauty we quickly came to realise that lunch wasn’t included in the price of the tour and the cheapest thing on the menu was 8 euros not including the water. Resigning ourselves to the cost knowing there was no other option unless we just didn’t eat. After coming to grips with the fact that after this meal we would no longer have enough money to even get a taxi back to the airport, we did what any beloved daughter would do…We asked our Father to provide the money for us, we thanked Him for the trip and for providing, and rested in knowing that He is our Abba who loves us and cares for us. So we enjoyed our meal and even were serenaded by a couple of musicians playing somewhat traditional Berber music along the way.

After the meal the group started walking. We were told we were in Eureka Valley and that we were going to a waterfall. I was so excited to see it and so with enthusiasm I followed our guide. We went through I guess what was a town that was on the other side of the river. It looked like we were just walking through a maze of houses up the hill, but I came to realise that they were actually a bunch of restaurants and shops. We followed a path all the way up until it became rocks then we basically bouldered on a small scale up the creek that was created by the waterfall. We went higher and higher carefully stepping and climbing following each other and our guide. Hamad during the harder parts and even at times the Spanish man Bernie lent us their hands to help us along our way. I had to laugh as we saw their homemade refrigerators are bottles placed in a fountain, under a small waterfall, or sprayed by a sprinkler. 

Once we finally reached the look-out for the waterfall it felt like such an accomplishment and I even felt closer to those on the tour. We got our pictures taken and just enjoyed it for a bit. Then it was time to head back down, which was much more tricky than going up. I had to rely much more on our guide and his instruction, by letting him show me where to place my feet so as to not slip and to allow him to stabilise me on some rocks. (What a great example of what God does for us! I could have of course tried to climb down on my own instead of listen to the one who knew the rocks and had done it so many times, or even not allowed him to stabilise me when I needed it, but both of those things would have resulted in disaster. So what a great lesson that as I am climbing on the rocks of this life I need to listen to my Guide and allow Him to led and stabilise me along the way) 

It was great though and so very beautiful in that valley. Sarah and I kept quoting different Psalms because we really could picture David leading his sheep right through there as he wrote them. Along the way a couple of times the money worry came to my mind, but just as our guide led us up and down, supporting us, and instructing us, I knew God would in the end too. 

As I walked back to the van I started talking to Holly, we talked about the fun things we both had done during our time there, I told her about the henna experience, and the conversation even led to our money predicament. She said that her boyfriend’s card was doing the same thing, but that hers was working, she then asked if we needed some money to get by and quickly I said feeling a bit embarrassed we’ll be fine I’m sure. After saying that I thought maybe it was through her that God was trying to provide, I just needed to stop being proud. Later down the road when we were talking she asked again if we were going to be alright or if she could give us 200 durham (20 euros), she said it wasn’t very much but she would like it if we would take it. I paused and then accepted and when we asked how we would get the money back to her she said forget about it and that she knew we would’ve done the same for her. I was blown away, God had once again provided and through a complete stranger. 

We got back to the hectic life of Marrakech, thanked Holly and her boyfriend again, and then walked back to the Riad. We decided to try the ATM machine one more time, but of course it didn’t work. Along the way though we did discover that the same restaurant that we ate at the first day accepted credit cards. So then we had just enough for Sarah to barter for her souvenir, us to get a delicious fresh orange juice at a stand in the square for 8 cents, and try the ginger, cardamom, and cinnamon spiced tea. While sharing the spicy tea I soaked it all in for the last time, all the music of the street performers and snake charmers, the smoke from the food stands floating and mixing with the lights, and the mass amount of people walking, eating, laughing, talking, and making up a beautiful part of this picture.  We of course had to laugh though when the song, “Shine bright like a diamond,” came on over the stand’s loud speaker, it had followed us even there! 

Once we finished our tea we said good-bye to the square and continued on to Le Bougainvillier, where we ate pizza of all things and best chocolate torte I’ve ever tasted…well maybe it was the only one I’ve ever tasted, but let’s just say it was a privilege to put it in my mouth.  After our last dinner under those tin lights we walked slowly back to the Riad, enjoying all the chaos and allowing ourselves to take part of the dance of life in the evening one more time.

When we got to our room I went out to visit the stars that were so clear on the roof, until I got too chilly to do so which was only about 10 minutes later. Then feeling very very tired I tried to go to sleep. I woke up shortly after thinking Sarah had not gotten back to room, but when I realised she had, I tried to lay back down but I started to feel sick. I went to the restroom and after wards I started to shake really uncontrollably. As I went to lay back down Sarah asked me if I was alright and I told her that I was shaking and she said that she was too. After praying I calmed enough to drink some water, and slowly the shaking started to slow down. Needless to say restful would not have been my word of choice for my last night. 

Take my Hand...Day #2 of Marrakech

March 2nd, Sunday 

I woke up to a chorus of birds, one whose song even reminded me of a bird I would hear while staying at my Grandma Johnson’s in the morning when I was young.  Once Sarah and I were ready we went downstairs to the patio where breakfast was being made and served. The breakfast was wonderful, it was fresh orange juice, bread, jams, a pancake type thing called a msemen , yogurt, a dry breakfast cake, fresh strawberries, and coffee. 

As we enjoyed the fresh air and food we talked to two ladies from England and Youssef about what we should do. After some deliberation we decided to stay all 3 nights there while he set up an appointment at the Hammam (an arabic bath) for that day and a tour for the next. We chose to explore Marrakech on our own until our appointment at the Hammam at 5:30. We were given another map that would take us to the Hammam and then we were on our way.  

The streets were still just as maze-like and complicated but we seemed to move more easily through them. We had to laugh at the similarities of the street-shop venders to the street vendors  you see in Aladdin. We were getting more adjusted to getting called pretty ladies with nice eyes and just generally hit on in their street vendor fashion as we found our way to the giant square. We journeyed on we came across many artist's shops, which of course caught my attention right away.

 One of the shops we went in, we climbed up all 3 flights of  stairs to the third floor  where they usually painted the paintings. As I looked through the plethora of paintings until I found one I liked of a lady at a fountain. Then we continued on until I found another row of artists shops. 

                Another shop  had a man sitting out front dressed in a cream linen suit jacket and as I passed I saw a very large simply beautiful painting of a blue arabic door. It was very different and captivating. I asked how much and he said 150 and that in galleries in Morocco normally it had been 350 for the same artist’s paintings. I told him I couldn't  afford more than 50 and so after some haggling he agreed to it and had his helper boy take it off the  frame and wrap it for me. 

Then continuing on we first came to a square that we thought could be it, but as we kept walking through the covered streets packed with goods for sale until we finally exited into a giant open space, which was the actual square. It was huge and had many vendor’s tents set up in the middle. We saw snake charmers, musicians, dancers, and people of all sorts. We decided to find our Hammam while we had a lot of time so we wouldn’t feel rushed when the time came to go. 

As we were searching for a landmark a lady with a head-covering and long dress asked Sarah where she was from and told her she had pretty eyes. Thrown off by the fact that she was a lady, we stopped walking, which in a moment we would discover was a big mistake, and then as quick as could be the lady grabbed Sarah’s hand and started to draw on it with henna. She was saying things like this will be for you to find a good man and for love. As I was trying to help Sarah break away another lady grabbed my hand and did the same, not letting go. I tried to pull away, but the lady had a good grip on my hand. So she quickly did the same thing on my hand, slopping horribly ugly and clumsy designs all over my hand and I did my best to resist. After the ladies were satisfied with their “artwork” they asked to be paid.

She told me that most people would pay 25 euros for what she had done to me, but that for me she would accept a little less. Shaking and very upset I told her I hadn’t wanted her to do the henna in the first place and so I wasn’t prepared to pay her anything. In the end I gave her 2 cents and walked away, nervous that she would try to stop me or follow me, but relieved when she didn’t.  

We then continued on until we found someone who was trying to sell   packages for our Hammam (Medina Spa)  and he showed us where it was so we could find it later. After that we wanted to go see the big Mosque in the center. So we walked our way there playing the real version of human frogger along the way on the street to get there. We stood under the shadow of the giant tower where the loud call to prayer had been blasting at different intervals during our time there so far. We were able to see through a door down the very long corridor where we saw several shoeless men kneeling down and many doorways. We  however, since we aren’t Muslim, were not permitted to enter. 

So we walked on to the garden where we sat under an orange tree and prayed. We prayed for the people, the country, we prayed against the darkness, deception, and oppression, we thanked God for the beautiful things we had seen and the people we had met. We asked for His light, life, and freedom to come to these lovely people. As we were sitting there we heard the call to prayer and were even offered coffee by a man carrying a large kettle. During this time it made me admire their commitment to prayer and as I talked with God I thought about trying something similar throughout my day, a special time dedicated solely to prayer. 

          As I thought on this God brought to my mind what Paul had said about praying continually, and it reminded me that God doesn't want just an outward act of prayer at a certain time. No He wants all of us, He requires me to go deeper, all the way to the deepest part of my heart. To let Him into every part of me and of my day, every hour, minute, second. He wants to invade every space in my mind and being until my call to prayer/worship is a constant, it is to be a fountain that flows within me at all moments changing everything about me not just with outwards actions, but in the inmost parts of who I am, who we are as God's people. 

After this rest and reflection time by the Mosque under the trees we decided to head back to the square and look for an ATM since our cash level was getting low. After a few tries we quickly discovered that our cards wouldn’t work in the ATMs, even though we were told to not bring a lot of cash, but to take money out when we got there. We realised that we would just have to make do with the amount we had. So we prayed  and I felt such peace, there was no time of panic or fear it was just as if God was taking me by the hand  and leading me to to a new level of trust and I was all in to go with HIm. 

We stared to get hungry so we decided to go somewhere cheap and drop things off at our Riad. We found this little restaurant along the way and had a lovely waitress named Wafa. She gave us her information and invited us to have tea with her later on. My only regret from our trip was that in the end we didn’t have enough time to take her up on her offer. We ate Tagine which is any food that is cooked in a clay container that kind of looks like a teepee with a plate   underneath. The food is cooked in it from a hot surface below. I ordered lemon chicken and it was delicious!  

After we ate and dropped things off then we headed to the Hammam. When we arrived we were served welcome tea with the mint leaves actually inside the cups and then instructed to change into our bathing-suits. We were then led into a roundish sauna type room where the walls and floors were heated and everything was very warm and steamy. There was a fountain on one side and benches to lay on all around. The lady in her uniform doused me with buckets of water and scrubbed what felt like most of my skin off, afterwards though it did feel good. After all that was done I was led to a room for a message where they used A LOT of oil, but it was very relaxing.

I was tempted several times to worry but every time I felt God’s assurance on me. After the message I was practically dripping with oil I was led to a room where I sat down and was covered up with a  blanket and given what I can only guess was good-bye tea. At the time though Sarah and I weren’t sure it was over and although we could’ve stayed there probably for another 3 hours, about 20 minutes later we were led out to the changing room. When we exited into the “real” world once again I was struck that the smells outside were not quite as nice as they were in the Hammam. That is at least until we entered the square again.

Once back in the square again we paused to watch a man “charming” a cobra and then headed on to see about the food stands. Evidently in the evening time the square turns into a giant restaurant with a big tent that had a lot of booths inside. As we walked every few steps there was a different guy trying to convince us to go to his booth. They would stand in front of you, compliment you, Sarah was called Lady Gaga and I was told I was too skinny, although not for them, but that I needed to eat. Finally though we were convinced to to eat at the booth where the guy told us in a British accent that their food  wouldn't give us diarrhea. We sat down at the benches that reminded me of the fair, ordered one water for us both , and one pastela to share. It wasn’t a lot but it was cheap and somewhat satisfying. I was a little disappointed we couldn’t try more, but I was just glad to be able to eat. 

While we were eating we had many different types of people ask us for food or money and each person made me sad, but the children broke my heart. One boy who seemed so sweet  and looked to be about 8-9 years old came and tried to sell us tissues, he had scratched and scars all over his little freckled face. My heart broke for him and for all he had probably seen and been through in his short life. I wanted to take him with me  to take him from his hard life and from the causes of his scrapes, but  all I could do was pray and know that God was with him through it all. 

While we were eating we also met a couple that originally the man had been from England and the lady from South Africa, but now they lived in New York. They ordered a lot of food to try and so they shared it with us. Then afterwards they even took us out for ice-cream. What an unexpected blessing! 

After that we headed back to the Riad, where we found Bathseer, who worked there as well, and told him our money problem. He made sure we had enough to eat and then offered to drive us to another bank and talk to the manager if need be the next day. Then Youssef came and we talked to him as well and he even offered to even loan us money.

         A little while later while he was in the kitchen Sarah and I went in to talk to him while he worked. We ended up talking about the differences in the Muslim religion and Christianity. He asked us if we were real Christians and we found out that he was a devoted Muslim. We talked about Abraham, whom he said was the first Muslim,  and learned about what was said about him in the Quaran. Sarah shared the story of Abraham how it is in the Bible. As we kept talking about the differences between the Quaran and the Bible, one huge difference of course is their belief that Jesus was only a prophet.  

Youssef said it bothered him that Jesus’ first miracle in the Bible was to turn water into wine. To him it was like Jesus was condoning drunkenness. I told him the story as it is in the Bible and then said it also used to confuse me that this would be the first miracle of Jesus. I then said that as I researched the story I came to realise that the reasons that Jesus did it may have been because He cared about the newlywed couple and didn’t want them to be embarrassed and He also respected and listened to His mother. This showed me that Jesus cares about what matters to us even if it might be something so small as this and that this really brought great comfort to me. In the end I’m not sure if he listened or heard, but I pray it went to his heart. We then said good-night and went to bed. 

Take my Hand..Day 1 of Marrakech

  Since my journey to Morocco impacted me so much, I wrote out an account of all the days I was there in my journal and thought I would just copy and paste it here. I must warn you that it is really long and not very polished, but if you want to walk with me through my experience there, read on...

Day #1 

We took of at 6:30 am from Ogijares where Chris dropped Sarah and I off at the bus station for the 7 am bus to Madrid. We sat in the front seats, the ones where it seems like there is a giant glass wall in front of you, and attempted to sleep on the way. 

       When we arrived at the bus station in Madrid we traveled through the long tunnels and mass of stairs that makes up the Metro to the airport. Anyways we arrived at the airport, waited in the long passport line while watching kids from completely different countries,who didn’t even know each other’s languages, play together like old friends, then passed finally through security. Once we found our gate we also found Starbucks (I’m pretty sure I heard heavenly music when I saw the sign...just saying) and throughly enjoyed a meal before boarding. 

         Our flight ran late by about an hour and a half to Marrakech, Morocco, but even so our dedicated taxi driver was waiting at the small airport for us. He was sitting amidst the sea of faces that were peering above signs with names, his was marked Le Coq Fou (in french The Crazy Rooster.) So we introduced ourselves and after a comment about our lateness we were led out of the airport into the sunshine and warmth to a van with Berber rugs as the car mats. In his broken and patchy English our Taxi Driver did his best to play tour guide, as we weaved in and around the mass of motor bikes, cars, and pedestrians. It was organized chaos, everyone knew where to go like a loud unconventional dance and we played our part to honk the horn, accelerate, stop, pass, weave, bob, and slow down at all the proper moments.  We saw families of 3 or 4 loaded onto these small motor bikes, men carrying large loads of plants and other things, small children driving, and plenty of donkeys and carts to go around. 

It was Sunday and so we were informed that all the families we saw had been on a picnic together in the park and we certainly saw many people sitting in the grass soaking up the glorious sun. We drove along this huge mud brick wall and were informed that it was the wall that led into the old part of the city, the Medina, which is where we would be staying. We drove through a gate in the wall and immediately entered into a maze of small streets, shops, and people. There was nothing we could do but hold on and watch the flurry of colors, smells, and people pass by. 

We finally pulled into a small opening which we learned was a square and the driver stopped beside a man who was dressed what I considered normally and although he looked about my age he looked very stern. I was nervous and a bit concerned for a second until the door opened and a giant smile lite up his face as the once stern-looking man revealed his name and that he would be showing us to our Riad. His name was Youssef and as he carried our backpacks he led us through the maze of the chaos and noise he often warned us of the oncoming motorists and showed us bit by bit the steps to the dance of life there. 

We moved clumsily along until we got to a street that led us to another small street that took us past a small mosque and then we turned to yet another street with a small fountain where a boy was washing his feet and filling bottles. The street then turned and we followed it until we found a small alley which led us to...you guessed it another street and close after; our door. The door was made of dark wood and was very heavy and old looking. Youssef joked in what we would learn was his usual way about the immense size of the sign for the Riad which was in fact only about 3 inches big and was right beside the door. It seemed to whisper rather than shout that you’d arrived at Le Coq Fou, finally.

We entered into a small but pretty entry way where a desk/office area was in front of us and a typical and beautiful patio was revealed to our right. We were led down a few stairs into this patio that displayed beautiful climbing vines that stretched to the top of the third floor and framed a pool and fountain filled with pink roses and petals.

Youssef informed us that it is typical in Morocco for guests to be given a welcome tea. So he led us to a table for us to wait while he prepared it in the kitchen that was in one of the many rooms off the patio. I feel like I have used the verb LED a lot so far and I guess that would be because looking back I feel Sarah and I were very literally led step by step through this journey there as if God took us by the hands and led us through the labyrinth of this adventure.     

        Anyways as the tea had finished brewing it was brought out on a silver tray and poured from a silver colored tea pot into glass cups. When he poured the tea, which I later saw was their usual way, he poured it very high above the cups so we saw a long stream of golden tea flowing into the cups. As I held my cup I noticed the tea smelled very strongly of mint and my first taste was a mix of mint and very sweet. I was told it was made with tea, a sprig of mint, and lots and lots of sugar. It was delicious and thankfully it was a drink we would enjoy many times on our trip. 

After we had finished, Youssef brought out paper and a pen and drew us a very detailed map of where we had been, where we were, and the roads to get to the main square. He gave us an official map, advised us on what to see, told us we would get lost, but informed us to only ask store owners or women for directions, and then gave us the card of our Riad. He asked us about our plans since at that point we had only booked one night there, partially out of skepticism and also because we didn’t have a set plan. So we told him about the different ideas we had and he advised us to stay the whole time there and that they would take good care of us. We thanked him our of politeness but I still held onto my skepticism, I was still wary of Morocco.

After a Youssef style joke about us only being booked to sleep outside on the terrace, he led us up to the terrace-roof on the third floor where there was only one enclosed room. Our room was like it’s own house on top of the flowery roof where we could see the many roofs of the city and an oncoming sunset. Inside our room was simple yet beautiful with its own bathroom and decorated in my favorite shade of sea blue and white. It came complete with another silver tray at the foot of the bed and an array of pink flower petals dispersed throughout.     

      

            

After a moment of rest and refreshment we decided to journey out of the tranquility of our Riad. So with our home-made map in hand we set out through the streets. I was struck with such an arrangement of smells from sweet sugary smells, to spicy cinnamon and cumin, to the occasional whiff of trash and body smell. At first it was very hard to get through the mass of people and stressful to watch out for the many bikes, motor bikes, donkeys and carts, and even the occasional car through those tiny winding streets. The shop owners called out from their stands at us, pretty ladies come see what we are selling. We heard how “nice” we were and how everyone could make us a great deal every step we took along our journey to find a place to eat dinner.

           It was very overwhelming yet at the same time exciting to see everything and everyone. It reminded me though of the many distractions and seductions that we face every day, Satan trying to sell us another truth other than the real One and Only Truth. He tries to flatter us and appeals to our pride and often good sense, but what He is selling will never deliver on its promises.

 So after entering and exiting a very upity and touristy restaurant we finally came upon Le Bougainvillier  that was very cute and so we sat in another indoor patio with a fountain and a pool and with large silver round lights, lighting the tables. It was very different to hear French and Arabic floating in the room instead of Spanish and to once again be in a place of complete ignorance. 

We decided upon couscous and chicken pastela, both of which are typical of Morocco and so we thought that we could get both and split them. When the chicken pastela arrived at our table it was beautiful, it was a round-shaped pocket-type pastry that was covered with a checkerboard of cinnamon and sugar on top. It may have been one of the most delicious things I have ever put into my mouth. The couscous was also good, but it really couldn’t compare. After the meal and the joys of figuring out Durhams, Moroccan currency,  in comparison to Euros we made our way back. 

One our way back the streets were quieter and the streets lamps were full on, surprisingly we had no trouble finding our way back through the maze to the Riad, thanks to our hand-drawn map. Once we got inside we sleepily made our way up to the room and collapsed on the bed, feeling much more inclined to stay at the Riad the whole time or at least on our last night.