My friend, Mohamed.

So Saturday night, we were walking around the plaza in Marrakech and, as usual, a shopkeeper tried to grab my attention.  This guy was different though - he wasn't trying to get me in his shop or hit on me.  Instead, he had his hand out for a handshake and was saying "hello, where are you from?"  I stopped, shook his hand and said I was from the US.  His eyes lit up and said "I love America!"  I laughed, because many people had said that in hopes of me buying something from them.  I asked him where he was from and he said he was from Marrakech and I asked him if he also loved Marrakech, and he said "of course... but not as much as America!"  I started laughing and so did he, because we both knew he was being ridiculous.  I asked him what he loved about America so much and he said "the accent."  It was funny, because he spoke with a sort-of-British accent.  He said he hates talking to British because they drop their "Rs" and mumble words.  I told him I have a hard time understanding British people too. He was Mohamed, he looked to be about 25, he was dressed in jeans and a somewhat fitted button down shirt.  He could've been walking down the street in Chicago. 

We started chatting about what I was doing in Marrakech, what I thought about it, where I had been and where I planned to go, and things like that.  Mohamed had only worked in the shop for 2 months (which seemed apparent because he quickly lost interest in making a sale and just wanted to talk).  He is a full-time student and his classes begin again in 3 weeks.  He goes to the university for computer/graphic design and wants to make websites.  I asked him about the market for that in Marrakech and he indicated that one didn't really exist.  I told him he could be "the guy" to make the market, but he said "No, it's not time for that in Morocco.  So many people can't read or write, what will they do with the Internet and typing?"  A valid point.

Mohamed spoke the best English I had heard all day and I asked him how long he had been speaking.  His answer?  6 months.  He TAUGHT HIMSELF by watching American TV shows and movies online.  Made me feel pretty bad about having difficulty ordering dinner in Spain after taking 11 years of Spanish.  He said he had 2 computers set up - one to download the content, and one to watch it.  He felt guilty for the downloading, but I told him I gave him permission.  His favorite shows?  Prison Break and Dexter.  He also loved Avatar. Of course we had to talk about Dexter for awhile, but he's only on season 2 (having a hard time finding episodes for season 3). At this point, he asked if I wanted to go get a drink (and by "drink" Moroccans mean tea).  I said I couldn't, that I was with friends, and that, Inshallah, we would meet again.  Inshallah is Arabic for "God willing" and Mohamed was very excited that I knew just one phrase in Arabic.  This started a whole new round of conversation and we just continued to talk about politics, religion, movies, and education.  It was absolutely fascinating and I left feeling very uplifted.

The next day Marci and I were walking down the street trying to find some cheap sunglasses (my brand new ones broke in Spain).  Marci was off trying some on, and I turn around and there's Mohamed walking toward me.  He was on his way to work and saw me.  He came up and we chatted about what we'd been doing.  He had just woken up (Saturday night the plaza was hopping all night long because of Eid) and I told him about the places we had visited.  I told him about the uncomfortable experience we'd had in the Jewish Quarter and he told me that the place was "different."  I felt reassured that it wasn't just ME.  He asked if I would be stopping by his shop tonight, and I said I wasn't sure.  "Inshallah" he said, and we parted ways for a second time.

Sunday night, we returned to the plaza for dinner and continued to wander around.  I ended up meeting another guy at a food cart who was in Marrakech for the holiday but had lived in Liverpool for 5 years.  He was Adam, and the people I was with and I made plans to meet him at 10:30 for a drink (again, tea).  We walked around the plaza trying to kill some time, and sure enough, I turn around and there we are in front of Mohamed's shop again.  At this point it's about 945 and Mohamed said the shop was totally dead that night. We ended up talking some more about tons of different things, and this time we did go have tea at the mint tea cart.  We stayed and talked until midnight.  Mohamed was really irritated at a guy he worked with: a girl had come to the shop and asked for a Fes hat.  The guy (who was FROM FES) ran off to get one and returned with a giant, white sun bonnet with a flower.  Mohamed was so annoyed with him and kept calling him a "stupid man" but with the funniest British accent.  I have a pretty good impression of this worked out, so remind me to do it for you when I get home.  Mohamed also said that the guy has couscous for brains.  (My new favorite expression!)

A girl I know had walked by as we were chatting and she mentioned that she didn't know how to get back to her hotel.  Mohamed was trying to help her figure out which way to go, how much she should pay for a taxi (you bargain for your fare, you don't use a meter).  She was being kind of spazzy, and said "I don't know where it is, it's by a McDonald's."  Mohamed said "which one?" and she said "the one with the terrace" and he said the best thing I have heard on this entire voyage:  "But ALL McDonalds have terraces!" 

We talked and drank tea and he told me about his family.  His dad is an imam and he is the oldest of 4 (he has 3 younger sisters).  He felt a lot of pressure as the man of the house as well as the imam's son.  He said he doesn't pray like his dad, but he's a good kid.  He doesn't drink, he doesn't smoke "hashish", and he gets good grades.  He wants to move to the US, but knows he can't leave his responsibilities (and would have a hard time getting a visa).  At one point, someone mentioned that Mohamed's friend Bader shouldn't smoke so much, and Mohamed got ashamed and admitted he smoked. He said he would never, EVER smoke in front of a friend and that, when he had seen me in the afternoon, he was smoking and hid his cigarette and left quickly because he thought it was disrespectful.  All of a sudden it was midnight (sorry to the other guy we had met...) and it was time to go.  We had exchanged email addresses earlier, and confirmed that each other was on Facebook, and hugged and double cheek-kissed goodbye.  I was truly sad to leave. 

I just feel really positive about this exchange.  It's what this whole voyage and program is about.  Cultural exchange.  Global friendships.  Mutual understanding and curiosity.  I happened to find the funniest and sweetest Moroccan in the plaza to accomplish all of this.  I got home and already had a Facebook friend request from him.  He also sent me a message that said he truly hoped we would meet again one day. 

I hope we will.  Inshallah!