Laughter, furtive giggles, suggestive glances through veiled eyes
Smells of curries and saffron and orange blossoms
And of diesel engines, smoldering refuse, tobacco and the human condition
Revolution, progress, tradition, a call to prayer that often goes unheeded
Bakeries of fresh bread and Parisian pastries, cafes heavy with coffee and intimate couples
And an ocean that roars against the sleepy bulwarks of a 1000-year-old walled city, ready for tomorrow.
2 comments:
Why were you in Rabat?
I taught English for 3 months, which was awful. I discovered that I am a horrible teacher. But living in Morocco was pretty awesome!
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