Every Reason to Say Yes: A Weekend in Oued Zem

    After having spent a year in the U.S. working and doing nothing outside of that job in order to save money, I finally returned home to Morocco. Living in the United States reduces almost everyone into a mere existence. Every day, the common man exchanges a third of their day to earn just enough to maybe pay all the bills each month. By the time I had spent a full week back in Rabat, I realized how much decompressing I still needed to do, and just how soulless and stressful life is in the U.S. At this point, I still had the mentality of a prisoner being released after a twenty-year sentence. I simply did not know how to think outside the box I had essentially placed myself into. And functioning out in the world where people lived free was almost terrifying. At this time, saying yes to much of anything put me well out of my comfort zone.

    Two weeks, three weeks had passed as I sat with the realization that I had forgotten how to get out and live. All of this, mind you, was in addition to two prior years out of five that I had been forced by life circumstances to sit and go nowhere and get out very little on behalf of my dying parents. I had truly begun to believe that I wasn’t deserving of the life I had given up everything for. The universe had things in store for me. 

    In that third week, I received a message from a follower of my social media content – Abdul.

Because of his Moroccan upbringing, his message was everything you would expect it to be. Beginning with a polite formality, then followed by a genuine inquiry to meet me, then a humble invitation to see his home village of Oued Zem – deep in the heart of Morocco. As someone struggling to nerve up and get back to making YouTube videos, I felt the spark of possibility. That is, the possibility to grab onto that second chance of seeing the world and sharing its beauty to the world on camera. It was reason enough to say yes. This brought about an excitement I had almost dismissed as “my former life”. For days to come, my mind delighted in everything that could go right. 

    The night before my big travel day, a true Moroccan element was thrown into the mix. The schedule for everything had been moved up by twelve hours. Scrambling now to get packed and forget nothing, I barely slept that night. And I loved it. I had missed this life so much. The feeling that returned to me was a solid affirmation for saying yes. 

    Morning came early and before 8:00 a.m., I was on a charter bus bound for Casablanca to meet Abdul. 

    I reached Casablanca around 9:15 and the last day of July was already warming up. Little did I know that this would be a day of waiting, and honestly, I was just fine with whatever came my way. Saying yes meant saying yes to everything. Embracing the unexpected and living in the moment – that feeling of not being in control but not caring because not being in control is a chaotic beauty all its own. Here is where the real adventures live.

    After missing our meeting time by more than two hours for reasons I would fully come to understand later, I finally met Abdul. In his eyes, I could see his kind soul. In his smile, I could see the pure joy that he chose for his life every day. He was quite tall, but height-weight proportionate.  He sweated a lot…. a lot. As we navigated through the unruly traffic of Casablanca, he brought me up to speed concerning the project he had only mentioned before. He told me we were to meet his project partner, Ichrak, at the train station. Abdul was good at conversation, and as he told more about the project, Ichrak, and his home town, my anticipation grew. 

Abdul’s phone rang. It was Ichrak. Her train had been delayed stemming from the immigration situation up in the north of Morocco in Ceuta (Cebta). It would be at least another hour.

    The heat of the day was at full power and the breeze that usually kept it all pleasant had died. The humidity of the coastal city had squelched the morning energy of commuters and street vendors alike into a struggle just to make it to sunset. Abdul was drenched in sweat – still smiling, seemingly unphased. In spite of the smothering humidity and midday summer sun, I found his demeanor contagious, and the hour passed before I knew it. 

    I had never met Ichrak and had only ever seen one photograph of her, a professional shot for her organization. Yet, the minute I saw her, even from a good distance, I knew it was her. Wearing a black sundress, straw colored hat with a floppy brim all around, pulling her suit case, she walked into the scene emitting a vibrant energy. The introduction was short and sweet as we had to get going.

    Like Abdul, she was a natural at exchange as neither of them placed much effort into small talk. In the first twenty minutes, I heard about her daughter, her family and the meaning of her name – sunshine. And how her father knew the name fit before he ever met her. Turns out, he was a pretty good guesser.

    At first, she seemed excessive in her self-confidence, frequently saying out loud the positive self-talk typically reserved for when no one is around. Always talking herself up, no matter the topic. As the weekend passed, however, I gained an appreciation for her consistency and her vitality became even more vibrant. I saw for myself how that kind of talking yourself up can change your life.

    As the day went on, our plans changed again and again. We ran “side missions” for numerous people only Abdul knew. There was the tire change, finally, after combing the city to find a place to get it done. The couscous (ksouksou) that was supposed to be lunch became a meal we wouldn’t eat until almost midnight. I had then realized why I was kept waiting at the bus stop for so long. Abdul took pride in being of service to those he cared about, be damned any cause and effect. We did get to eat long before then, though. Over all, that day for me was far better than one would expect a twelve-hour chain of unpredictable events to be. The conversation, the company, I couldn't have asked to meet anyone as in-depth and interesting as these two. 

    It was almost 1:00 in the morning before we made it to our hotel, which Abdul arranged and paid for. Though modest, the room was nice, complete with air conditioning, hot shower, and a modern toilet. The walls were painted a darker shade of brown, similar to a darker mud used for stucco. The decor was traditional but not overdone in some tacky touristy way. The bed was perfectly firm. My stomach had been filled to max capacity and the day was longer than I had had in years, I was quickly losing the battle to stay awake.  As that amazing whirlwind of a day replayed in my mind, I drifted into a much needed sleep.

    The next was like the first, as it came with an early start. Just as I was finishing one of the best complimentary hotel breakfasts I have ever had, I met up with Ichrak in the restaurant. She was adorned in an elegant lavender dress and her stylish little sunhat. Her deliberation to detail equaled her attentive ear in conversation. Her earrings, sunglasses and even her phone case tastefully matched her dress. We sat and talked about our common interests to include our love for writing while we waited… again… for our ride to the day’s event, Ichrak’s presentation to Moroccan students looking to study abroad. That ride never came, not in time anyway. So in our perplexed state, we called for a taxi. 

    For the next hour and a half, Abdul and I sat and watched Ichrak shine as she stood up there doing what she loves. You could hear it in her voice and see it in every gesture. The mixture of her professionalism and joy for her work was evident. She easily related to her audience and left them feeling confident in her. But let’s not leave out the counterpart in this, Abdul.

    Abdul, who lives in the U.S. has a compassionate heart, which led him to start a non-profit organization that provides social work and child protection services in Moroccan public schools, as these things are not currently available to them. After sending a simple email to Ichrak asking for her guidance and collaboration, a very beautiful project was underway. His story is one of daring to do the scary thing and the sacrifices it takes that make it so. Remember when I said, “Living in the United States reduces almost everyone into a mere existence.”? I did say almost everyone–but not Abdul.

    After the presentation came Abdul’s turn to shine once again. We spent the day touring the charming little village of Oued Zem (Lion River). What I found charming was the simplicity of the lifestyle. While most would contend that I was entertained by their perceived poverty, they couldn’t be further from the truth. I’ve always been fond of a simple slow life that carried with it layers of purpose and focus on community. Oued Zem delivered and Abdul’s pride in and knowledge of its history was undeniable. From being the leader in phosphate mining to century-old military housing still lived in by the soldiers’ descendants, to being home to Morocco’s first railway (still in operation today), Oued Zem is far more than anyone simply passing through would ever realize. Abdul had truly invited me into the exact world I had longed to explore for so long. 

    During that day, our conversations were deep and intelligent. We rode through the countryside, debating our perspectives on relationships, human behaviors, as well as who and what we as people should bring to the table in those relationships. We dove deep into the psychology of it all. 

    Eventually, the time had come for us to make the drive back to Rabat. Abdul saw to it that he delivered us safely himself. This was a four-hour drive…one way. His kindness and generosity throughout this trip seemed to come without boundaries. 

    In spite of the duration, and the fact we had already spent much of the day in the car, the ride home was almost magical, filled with that nostalgic feeling like we were teenagers again. Our private atmosphere was filled with good music, laughter, and “seat dancing”. Those last four hours I got to spend with these two incredible people ended all too soon, really. Before I knew it, we were outside my house saying our good-byes.

    That weekend brought me people and experiences that have left an indelible mark in my memories and on my heart. Though I honestly could have done without all the side missions and waiting in the car, I had also come to realize that just maybe some of those times I was the side mission and others just had to wait. They opened my eyes to new ways of thinking. I definitely marveled as I watched some boxes get checked that I thought were no longer possible, and showed me every reason to be glad ... thankful I said yes.