Scrambling For Safety: Lockdown in Morocco - Part 1

  Within the next two days of posting my Coronavirus update video, it was mandated to have an authorization letter signed by authorities to be out and about. This letter, written in Arabic, contained a designated zone, or annex - as they called it, that you were allowed to be in according to where you lived or were staying. We were prohibited from leaving these designated areas by law. I was in Annex 1 - the medina and a very close proximity of no more than a few city blocks east and south of the medina. A curfew from 6:00pm-6:00am was put in place.  The streets once filled with citizens and tourists alike were now filled with police and military. 

I had less than forty-eight hours to find a place to live. Enter, "the Canadian".

    Having lived here for some years already, the Canadian knew the ropes. He knew the streets. He knew people. What happened next over the upcoming days would not only push my limits physically but also mentally and emotionally, and every bit as much. Running on coffee, easy-to-carry fruit, and water while walking for miles a day chasing down leads on potential apartments was the absolute last thing I'd ever dreamed I would be doing when I started out on my travels. By this time, all flights in and out of Morocco were suspended indefinitely.  Our gracious host at the hostel gave us a stay of execution for one more night before closing the doors until further notice. 

After two days of the aforementioned diet and extreme cardio, and having nothing to show for it, I was becoming quite discouraged and admittedly, a bit worried. I wanted adventure.  I certainly got it.

    We talked to anyone and everyone, literally. Knocking random doors and inquiring with every corner shop owner still open if they knew of anyone who was renting. The online searches were proving futile. At the time many people here were skeptical of foreigners, believing WE brought them this virus. So we were beginning to think this may have been a factor.  Onward we marched. We had no viable options. What we did have was roughly eighteen hours before we hit homeless status in a foreign country during a global virus outbreak. 

    On our last day under a roof, we received a call from someone who got our number from someone...who got our number from someone we had actually talked to. They had an apartment! New challenge: They were six miles away (clearly out of Annex 1) and they couldn't give us exact directions but could meet us and take us there. 

    Sounds shady? You bet! Now we have to find THAT location....Curfew is in just a few hours. The police and military were everywhere and they worked under a zero-tolerance policy for breaking curfew…and zone restrictions.

    Will we even like the place? Will we have to take some dumpy apartment with sub-par accommodations out of desperation? Will we be caught out of our zone and thrown in jail before we even get there? Can we trust these people? Can I even trust the Canadian?! 

These questions raced through my mind like red hot embers blowing in a violent wind. 

    We managed to hail one of the remaining taxis in operation and reached our rendezvous point. Soon after, a man and his son - the interpreter - rolled up in a white SUV. We got in not knowing what was really about to happen. With a slightly quickened pulse, I introduced myself, as did the Canadian. We arrived at an apartment building and they parked out on the street rather than the parking lot. My “spidey senses” were on full alert at this point. We walked into an alleyway lined with front doors. The man opened the large iron black door and stepped inside and proceeded up the small s-curved stairs to the third floor. 

    Once at the top, he approaches and unlocks another door.  He gently pushes it open without stepping inside, gesturing that we go first. Who went in first, the Canadian or me, I can't recall, but I CAN tell you that the moment of truth for this situation was upon us. Were we about to see our new place or our demise?  After all, we were “dirty foreigners infecting their country”! 

    Empty. No one was inside waiting to help in the fight of eradicating the outsiders who had brought the virus. No one was inside waiting to beat us up and rob us blind out of desperation in the midst of such uncertainty for all humanity.

    The only thing waiting was a nice, clean apartment. Modern tile work brown tiles, twelve-inch squares, on the floor -  more traditional tiles on the walls. Tile work covered everything, yet, they made it look good and it was easy to keep everything clean. One bedroom, one bath, and a nice little kitchen - no furniture, at all.  We had two terraces, both painted a brick red top to bottom. The upper terrace overlooked the neighborhood and out to the ocean. 

It did have a refrigerator and a water heater for the shower. No stove.

In spite of that, I’d say for two single guys scrambling for a place to live when it had mattered more than ever, we did alright! And with NO time to spare!

Now, I would have a new challenge ahead of me - Living with someone, which I hadn’t done for years. And not only that, but with someone I JUST met and who is completely opposite of myself.