He had his genitals in his hands and a side smile on his face when he looked into my eyes. I couldn’t believe for a second that this was actually happening. Tamara, Evan and I were looking out over Tangier from the Kasbah. A second after we walked into the viewing area a man came in—Evan was in the middle, Tamara was at his left and I was stand at his right—the man was standing about 4 steps away from me. I was just looking out to the water when I saw the man waving at me. When I looked at him there it was, his man part firm in his hands. The man was showing me all of his man part and for a second I lost all my sense and froze. It took me a second to react and walk to Tamara’s side and start running. I was too shocked to even run honestly. I was more walking fast and taking in what had happen than I was running. I couldn’t stop but wonder what I did to get this man excited and get him to think that what he did was okay.
Tamara, Evan, and I had taken a 5 hour train ride to Tangier, this beautiful city in the north of Morocco. It was the farthest north we had been on our own. We stayed in a Airbnb by the ocean. The view was irresistible. Our first night we ate in a restaurant that was bit hard to find. We had been rejected by at least 3 taxi driver before we finally got one who was willing to take us to our destination. We shared chicken wings for starters and I must say they were as good as they come. And Tangier is as beautiful of a city as they come.
On our second morning in Tangier we discovered a heavenly breakfast spot. It wasn’t just about the food that was served there. It was about the server, the atmosphere, and of course the location. This place was 10 min walk away from our Airbnb. We had to walk up a hill to get there but the service made it all worth it. This short Moroccan guy who would always listen to me as I made my order more complicated than it had to be. He seemed to understand why I was always fighting what was on the menu and mixing up things. Then there was the food. I always got the same thing—who’s surprised—a plate on the breakfast menu called “Marocain” and every time I switched up things on how it was served. For example I would always ask for 2 Rhyaf instead of just one.
When we had done our visiting for the day and were too full to eat any more because we had too much food for dinner—as one would in Morocco—Evan, Tamara and I watched “Full House.” for anyone rolling their eyes or laughing at us “How rude?” Full House was such a great way to end our days. For me it was just what I needed to take my mind of all the stress. That week I got rejected for a position I personally think I was very qualified for. That rejection was honestly kind of a slap in the face—no matter how qualified you are, you must remember that you are black—that I honestly didn’t need.
More than a stress reliever “Full House” was also a time of digestion. Don’t ask me why but every night we were too full. Either our stomach have been shrinking or we were eating too much (I definitely was eating too much).
I have to say that this has been the first trip in Morocco where at the end I’m still not ready to go back home, to Casablanca. All things considered, going back to Casa just means going back to work. I already have hours of work lined up on this upcoming Monday. I asked to be trained to be a journalist so I guess I’m getting what I asked for.