De Perros y Limones

Bonjour!

Well, we made it.  We’re here in Africa.  We can hardly believe it ourselves.  Its slightly strange that BBC world – one of the very few English channels we can get on the telly that we found here – has programs about Africa that are suddenly a bit more relevant.

Our last walk in the campo

Anyway, the journey here was… Well, it was uneventful.  I wouldn’t go so far as to say it was boring but it wasn’t as fraught with difficulty as we had feared.   For instance, Sonalee had fretted for days, weeks and months over the correct paperwork to get the dogs and cat through Moroccan customs.   Pet passports were triple checked, numerous emails were exchanged with the ferry company and the Moroccan consulate and vets were consulted.

Dawn found ourselves in the mountains outside Malaga

And the reality?  Well, we eventually drove off the ferry, nervously got to the customs point, gave our passports with slightly shaking hands,  hurriedly opened the doors to let the nice men inspect the animals and then looked at each other as the only thing these nice customs people did was to exchange exclamations about how cute the dogs were, fuss over the adorable Luna (who hammed it up)  and try to chat up Sonalee. 

  • Hasta Luego, Espana

They literally waved us off as they wished us the very best for our stay in Morocco!

We then drove along  the excellent Moroccan roads, met our contact at the school and, three hours after arriving, found ourselves at our new home.  All very prosaic to be sure.

  • We opened the cupboard to find this thing that is straight out of a Stephen King novel. If you see news of a foreign couple and their animals mysteriously slaughtered in their home one day, just remember this image.

Of course, whilst the roads around Rabat are very good, the driving is very interesting to say the least.  Roundabouts are the places where it gets ‘Really’ Interesting. Always check your mirrors, people!

our new gaff

So, for the second time in a year, we find ourselves fitting out a house to suit us.  And trying to find shops to buy the stuff that we need to fit out our house.  And to do that with very limited understanding of the language of the country that we are in.  And to find our way in a city that we do not know.  

It has to be said that the school have been very good in helping us settle in.  They’ve explained a lot of cultural things, taken us to a few places that we might need to use and/or see in the future and introduced us to Sonalee’s new colleagues as well as their partners in some very congenial surroundings.  The school have provided us with many of the modern tools that you need to survive (Wifi) and had also left us some beer and wine in the fridge for our first few nights.  And good wine it was, too!

And, yes, it will take some time for us to get used to hearing the wrong way to say ‘Tomatoes’ by the numerous Americans and Canadians on the staff.  What to do?

What else to tell you about our first week here?  Well, we live in a beach community or urbanisation about 15km or so outside of the city of Rabat.  Some of the houses are huge, some decrepit and some brand spanking new.  The beach is packed each day since it is the holiday season but early morning sees it pretty much empty apart from the hardcore fishing aficionados. 

Early morning walkies

The people here and thereabouts have been very friendly towards us and the dogs.  Much more so than we feared,  if I’m totally honest.  There is an easy smile and laugh here, from all sorts of people, that makes interacting a little bit less stressful.  Sure, there are issues that we have yet to fully comprehend but you’ll get them anywhere. 

The beach

One of the most noticeable difficulties that we have encountered so far – apart from the availability of booze of course, is the problem of rubbish all over the place.  When we get onto the beach in the morning Bindi spends more time looking for leftover crap to eat than running around.  Luna does it too.  It’s annoying and worrying.  It’s also disheartening because it just speaks of an attitude that we, as humans, can treat this planet like shit.  The amount of rubbish left over on the beach and what gets washed up on the tide really does make you despair.

What is it with us humans that we feel the need to literally shit on our own doorstep?  To ruin what beauty we see right before us?  To wreck the place that we are supposed to share with all of the creatures of this Earth?  It is the same all over the world – Indonesia was particularly bad as I recall – and I am certainly guilty of being a bit of a twat in the past.  But, in this day and age, surely we can be a little bit more aware of what we are doing?

  • Rabat

In Spain it was the same, that attitude that it was okay just to chuck away your crap in the campo or the roadside  because it either didn’t matter or it was someone else’s job to sort it out.  In Spain, or at least where we lived, it was even more galling because the local and national governments have actually made it easier to recycle or dispose of your rubbish than to throw it away randomly.  Seriously, there are recycling points literally everywhere.  You actually have to go out of your way to trash the environment and, yet, there are people who prefer to do that.  Depressing, isn’t it?

Sonalee holding a huge knob.

What?

I guess the only other negative about our stay so far is sending Sonalee off to work.  I’m not working at the school, as you already know.  Frankly, I’m finding it difficult to deal with.  Yes, I have my PGC course coming up and I have my spiritual duties to attend to  but I’m really missing that excitement that you feel as a teacher as the new term approaches.  I’ve been a teacher for so long that I’ve gotten used to the feeling of anticipation at what the new academic year will bring:  the new kids that are as nervous as you; the frantic learning of their names; the dealing with anxious parents; new staff to get to know and new displays to put onto the bare walls of your classroom.

I have already had a year off and I really don’t need another one.  I would love  to be a ‘Sir’ to another bunch of kids because I think I’m really good at it and I do actually enjoy it (not the marking though, obviously).  It is not to be here in Rabat at the moment.  I’ll look for other opportunities to have that role in some way in the near future whilst I try to send Sonalee off to work safe in the knowledge that the bathroom is clean and that the washing up will be done.  

It isn’t bad, is it?

We have ferried ourselves to this new country and new continent and life is not the same as it was in Spain or in Sri Lanka.  The dogs and Monte seem to have adapted to it fairly well and we will learn to do the same.  My Arabic will need to improve from an extremely low base, as will my French.  “I am a rock star” isn’t cutting it at the moment – and why do the French keep missing so many bloody letters off their words?  Are they really really lazy?  It’s so confusing! 

It is safe to say that Sonalee and I have been a little bit overwhelmed, a little bit pleasantly surprised, a little bit confused but also confident that this was the right choice.  We are now in Morocco.  We are in Africa.  We live in Africa!   Wow!   This was not what we envisioned what would be ‘us’ when we first met five years ago.  Life, eh?  

Au Revoir

Paul

PS  So, quite a few years ago, my sister gave me the Plan B album as a pressie.  It is now on rotation on the car stereo.  You know how you get a moment in your life when you just feel exhilaration at the uncertainty of an unknown future and there is a track that seems to accompany it?  This was playing in the car at dawn as we made our way over the mountains near Malaga towards the Mediterranean coast and our new life. 

Paul

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