Thursday, 10 September 2015

Chronicles of a 18 Years Old Moroccan Girl #7

Welcome back,

Chapter 7 : Is He a Different Moroccan ? Based on a true story

"Moroccan Muslims and Moroccan Jews were living in peace and harmony. After all, we are all moroccans."

I wanna share with you an experience that I lived.

It happened while I was on the plane on my way back to Morocco. I was awkwardly searching for my seat while being annoyed by the crowd behind me (Yeah, students don't get to travel in the first class)

I whispered something in moroccan arabic and an old man already sitting (lucky one!) looked at me with eyes wide open like a child that you surprised with his favorite candy.

He asked me in a weird moroccan arabic: "Are you moroccan ?"
I replied annoyed : "Yeah"
He didn't take the hint and carried on the conversation while I was trying to figure out where the hell should I put my luggage: " Have you ever visited Marrakech ? There is this small village there called..."
I answered quickly determined to stop this conversation right away : "Yeah"

I found my place a couple of seats away from the old weird man. I was sitting next to a father. His son was next to the old man. Long story short, I exchanged the seat with the son so that he can be next to his father during the flight.

Here I am sitting next to the old man and his wife. As I was trying to avoid any attempt to socialize like we would avoid the plague, I pluged my earphones in my device and let myself carried on by the music ignoring the old couple next to me. ( I realize that I'm a b*tch )

During dinner time, we all had our regular plate but the old couple. had a special one : a KOSHER one.

As we were eating, the wife wanted water but the old man had troubles explaining that to the flight attendant what he wanted, so I stepped in to help in the translation part.

I was curious. For the first time since I sat down next to him, I took a look at his face. He was wearing a KIPA. I took off my earphones and asked the old man:
"What is the difference between the Kosher plate and the regular one ?"
He answered awkwardly :
- The kosher is for jews
- I know, but what is the difference ?

He started explaining that the bread in the kosher plate should be well cooked and gave details about the meal he had.

He was a moroccan jew. He left Morocco when he was 5 yo for Isreal/Palestine. It's been 50 years since the last time he left, and now he is returning for summer to travel around Morocco and visit his old village. He started talking passionatly about that village he came from, about the respect between the muslims and the jews at that moment, about his childhood and how unfortunatly his children cannot talk in moroccan arabic. He and his wife looked at me avid of information they wanted to know how the current morocco is, they wanted to know if jews still live in Casablanca, they also wanted to know how my parents let me travel alone ( I reminded them of their daughter, she is travelling alone too).

I was as curious as they were. I wanted to know how they were treated in Isreal/Palestine. I wanted to know how morocco of 50 years ago was. I wanted to know if they had any problems with the moroccan muslim at that time.

"Moroccan Muslims and Moroccan Jews were living in peace and harmony. After all, we are all moroccans."

I started thinking about that Morocco I never had the chance to visit. That old morocco that my grandmother talks about, a morocco that accepts differences.

The plane landed. The couple smiled at me, wished me good luck success and hapiness in life. Deep down, I hoped that they would not be disapointed on the morocco of today and that their excitement would not fade away and above all that they are going to be safe during the long and tiring travel waiting for them.

With love and respect,


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Thanks for sharing !
Maybe I'll read it, maybe I don't care