Love in the Air

 

Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at a destination full of hope.

 

Our Songs

Chris Brown-Don’t Wake me up

Lykee Lee-I Follow Rivers

Khaled- Ce Est La Vie

Alex Mica- Dalinda  

Oasis-Wonderwall

Selena Gomez- I Love You Like a Love song Baby

My Dream is to Fly Above A rainbow so High

David Guetta- She Wolf

A Dream Come True

Saturday night I was suppose to meet Mr. Casa at his house to go out together with friends.  I had already been to Mohammedia with friends to see a concert and I got back around 1030pm. I called him and he asked my plans and I told him my plans were to be with him. 

Mr. Casa “Who said that we were going to hang out?”

He said that he was not going out, but they were eating tagine and drinking beer. If I was interested in this, I could come over. Déjà vu to

Mr. Bigg.  “If you want to come over, come and if you don’t don’t.”

It just sounds so crappy and uncaring. I told him I would come over, but I would take time, which I did take time to get ready to look good for him.

I headed over there, but was dropped off away from his house near the Irish Pub. My thought process was that he could just meet me over there, I could say "hi" to my friends, and we could head to Ain Dieb. He does not have a car, which puts a strain on things so we just rely on taxis to get around.  I call him and he is NOT happy about me being at the Irish Pub and thinks I am going to drink there. Things are completely miscommunicated, but we want to see each other-he comes late, but he shows up.  He rings me and tells me “Come outside.”

There he is sitting on his friends vespa wearing a black leather jacket, gray jeans, and his white tennis shoes. He had an angry look on his face, which made his whole look even cuter.  Our friend Mr. Vespa let him borrow his vespa...

So you are probably thinking okay so how is this a dream come true?

The night before I had a dream about him and he was wearing a black,leather jacket almost identical to the one he was wearing and I was wearing a white leather jacket in my dream!!! That day I purchased a white leather jacket-not because of the dream, but it was the only leather jacket on sale ha!  I  bought my white leather jacket that day and wore it out for my first time. 

He knows I like motor bikes so he came there to pick me up by bike. His arrival was quite late, but I see why it took him so long-He had never driven a motor bike before!  I think this was by far one of his cutest moments ever. What a doll to put in such effort with me even when I did not follow the plan and kept him waiting at his house. 

We drove off into the streets of Casa heading along the beach to Ain Dieb. I did not realize what had happened that night, but we were ceebrating a huge victory Morocco just won a big futbol match and everrrryone was out celebrating.  I sat on the back so happily and he drove around angrily shouting at me “touch me” because occasionally I would let go of him.  I was smiling and waiving my hands at the other cars saying, “Go Morocco.”  The streets are packed and people are waiving flags, drinking in their cars, and full of smiles.  Mr. Casa is not happy that he had to come pick me up and separate from his friends, but he still did it.

He asked me why are you so happy? I said, “I’m happy because I’m in love.”

With who he asked, “Myself” I said and laughed.  If he had to ask with who I was not going to give him an answer!

We arrive at the bar, which his friends love and I do not love. Le Corniche. The bouncer decides to "joke around" with him and tell him that he not letting him in, but this does not sit well with Mr. Casa.  They argue and I stand by his side waiting, but I am not happy with all this as I just want to celebrate with all the HAPPY people that are celebrating.  He shouts at me to stand in one place and “Don’t move” as he goes to argue with the bouncer. I can see the anger in his face and while some would think him shouting at me “Don’t move.” was an asshole move. I somehow found it romantic… maybe this is why I have not found anyone yet if I find him shouting at me to be sexy and romantic ha! I stood up against the car and did not move for a whole ten minutes waiting for him. 

At this point, our night was ruined but I thought it was still salvageable.  I hopped on the back of Mr. Vespa’s bike and we zoomed off to the other area of clubs with Mr. Casa following behind and pouting.  We arrived at the second place and Mr. Casa says that he wants to go home.

He asks loudly and dramatically, “Are you staying or leaving with me?”

I sat there frozen and not responding. “Are you staying or leaving Priscilla?”

Priscilla: “I am staying”

I end up calling a friend to come meet me in Ain Dieb and he says that he is going to come with his two other friends.  I end up going into the Punjab club, which is a club with live Arabic music.  It is actually quite nice and I was enjoying the music.  I am standing there and realized that my boyfriend had a bad night, did not want to go out in the first place, but only went out for me, and I left him to stay in Ain Dieb by myself.  Again, I am just acting as an independent, selfish girl not thinking at all about his feelings.  I decide that I am going to take a taxi and meet him back at his house. 

Right as I make this decision, I get a text from him, “Where are you?”

I tell him to meet me in front of Punjab and he comes to meet me.  I am standing on the top of the steps talking with the musician who happens to be from Canada. Mr. Casa is standing at the bottom of the steps and comes up to greet us.  Mr. Casa had just been there the night before so he knew the musician.  Andrew , the musician, said Mr. Casa was there the night before with a huge crew of people from work.  Mr. Casa looks at me and he still has some anger towards me, but we walk together holding hands over to Armstrong.  I can understand his anger because I failed the “supportive girlfriend test.”

The night went well and we enjoyed with his friends.  We had made up and he was not angry anymore.  It felt like bliss and we were so happy lighting up the room with our presence.  Towards the end of the night, he was sitting down and I looked down at him smiling big, but I did not say anything.  He just looked up at me and said, “Yeah me too.” 

 

 

 

Just a Reminder.....

 

Gnawan Music

Gnawan music is a very popular music of Morocco, especially famous to the region of Essouria.  It is an international music of "love and spirtuality" people say and when you listen you feel it. Many of my friends have been to the festivals, listen to it in their cars, dance, or even play in a band.  Here is more information:

From Wikipedia:

The Gnawa are originally descendants of former slaves from black origin populations of Africa Black ( Senegal , Sudan , Ghana ...).
They were led by the former dynasties who worked on the history of Morocco , beginning with the Empire Almohad for work and buildings of the palace and building armies (black guard over by the Moroccan dynasties following) ^{[ref . needed]} .
The constitution brotherhoods throughout Morocco Gnawa revolves around master musicians (the mâallems ) and / or ritual, instrumentalists (almost exclusively qraqeb (or qrâqech) - sort of rattlesnakes - and guembri ) of blind ( chouaafa ), mediums and simple followers. They practice together rite adorcism syncretic (called lila Morocco, diwan Algeria) which combines both inputs African and Arab-Berber, during which followers engage in the practice of trance for therapeutic .

This is Morocco and this is Gnawan....

 

 

 

A Day at the Beach

 

Bouzinika

This beach is pretty much a little slice of heaven.  The first beach our Moroccan crew explored was near Dar Bouaza and it was not nearly as nice as this beach. We laughed, sang, spoke French, Arabic, Hindi, and Spanish-what a great time. I love my Yusuff aka Bob Marley! He is such a beautiful, happy soul and he fills my heart up with happiness everytime I see him!

 

 

 

 

Our happy soul- Bob Marley aka Gnawan dancing king

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Arabic Men and The Code Of Honor

In Morocco, men work off a code of honor with men.  They clearly respect one another and friendship between men is one of the most important things in a man’s life.  The man will help the other in time of need, when they don’t have money, if they need a place to stay, and they will always choose the man over the girl. They have a duty to one another to take care and watch over one another. 

This code of honor can be present among women, but women appear to be more interconnected within their community.  Muslim women have their cliques, but I do not see them interact with one another in the same manner as men. They are always talking and gossiping and will help one another in a market or on a bus. The men stick together like glue.

I Promise and the Code of Honor

What is fascinating in Morocco is not the food, the desert, the beach-it is the people.  This may not come as a surprise coming from a psychoanalyst who is interested in studying people in every culture, every day, and in every way. But this culture has something special going on that starts with the people.

First of all, Moroccans are known for having warm hearts, kind smiles, and being extremely hospitable.  If you read travel blogs, books, or ask travelers about their experience- the words that you hear are people “warm, hospitable, helpful, caring” experience “amazing, unforgettable, beautiful, breathtaking.” There is such beauty in the people, the scenery, the history, and a special divinity.  There is something heavenly going on here-spirituality is present amongst the nature throughout the country.  Divinity is present in the sky with incredible clouds and sunsets that leave you wondering what is really going on up above you.

Along with the wonderful elements of the country, there are positive and negative elements with the desire to give and help a person (foreigner).  While people can be amazingly good to you with an intention and desire to help, the following through with actions maybe cloudy at times.  It seems that people overextend themselves committing to things that can not complete, which would lead to a false promise.  Although, it is within their religion and code of honor to be a friend and help a person in need. For example, taking time to call apartments, help you look at apartments, translate, ensuring your basic needs are met (hunger, security (safety), and shelter), taking time from their work to help you, lending you something you need, welcoming you to their home, giving up their bed to you/their home. 

They are unintentionally targeting one of the most important organs we have: our heart.  When you touch the heart with your words, your heart is holding on waiting for the actions to come through.  From the beauty of Cognitive behavioral therapy-our feelings + thoughts =behavior, which means a person should act on their positive, thoughts and intentions in a positive way. When we look at a person’s body language (open, inviting, comforting, reassuring) this shows us that they care and want to help.

When a person then communicates their desire to help with such: passion, certainty, and care, we would assume that they are going to help you.  When the intention is there, it becomes easier for our behavior to follow.

Unfortunately, the actions are following about half the time in Morocco with a strong lack of delivery.  While there appears to be “real intention” and “desire” to help with words, the actions are not always coming through. It is quite fascinating for me to see people with such full expressions and they connect with my heart, but then they never follow through. Is there a “real” “altruistic” desire to help or is their an alterior motive?

For example, Omar, nice, sweet, funny, and kind mentioning to me “You can come to my family’s home for the Eid Sheep sacrifice.” “We will all go to Marrakech together.” “We will have the best time together.” “I will show you the local restaurants to enjoy cous cous.” When it came to the day of the actual Eid, he said that he was not going. In Morocco, everyone goes to their families house during Eid, especially someone like him who is very close to his family. I let this go and just wrote it off as disappointment #4.

On facebook, we would message each other and he would be extra enthusiastic with extra exclamations and caring words.  One day he asked me if I could find him girls for a sexual encounter and I said, “No.” After that point, there was no more nice friendly Omar, no more exclamations, friendly hellos, but just a distant jerk.

The culture is creating false promises and people fall into habit-conditioned to just keep talking to make you feel good, to prove they can take care of you.  Again, I emphasize these are my experiences and not all people are like this.  It is like icing a cake with so many layers. The Moroccans make it the sweetest, sweetest tasting cake, but when they do not give you any of the cake-you feel sad and disappointment.  Many people including Mr. Casa, his friends, his brother, my agent, my director- “ I will take you to Marrakech, I will help you find a bike.” “We will go to Tangier together, I will help you find students for English”  They take responsibility to help you and do things for you, but your life and enjoyment is not their responsibility.  Nobody believes everything they are told, but when you keep hearing the same promises over and over you stop believing them and you stop believing in people..

Another example, I’ll never forget this guy I met in the café. He sat and stared at me saying he could not drink or eat because my beauty.  He had to see me again and he took my number and never called me. Why do you have to put double layers of icing on the cake when it is already sweet enough? The point to stress is the layers and layers of icing, the words and words and words that are just fluff.

To conclude, the art of helping is integrated into the culture. While people have lives other than helping you, being busy, having family commitments, and stress are not the components creating the false promises. People are conditioned to respond with a desire to help, show you around, and be a friend, but the delivery depends on the quality of the people.  Good, honest people will come through for you. Opportunists may also deliver because they want something from you.  Liars will just keep dishing out false promises with sad people believing them.

Moral to Morocco: If you are not going to ACTUALIZE a statement, just don’t say it. It is a waste of time, breath, and you are negatively impacting newcomers in the meantime!

 

Priscilla Signs A Contract

At first, I had anxiety about signing a contract because that would mean making a one year commitment and I was not sure if I was ready for that-still in fight or flight mode.  With my work permit and with the advice of locals, it was clear that it was the best decision for a foreigner to have a contract.   If you stay without a contract, you put yourself at risk of being evicted from the apartment. At any time, the owner could tell you to move out-perhaps even without any notice, therefore it is important to protect yourself and get a contract. 

My contract is in French and I never even translated it rather I left it up to Mr. Casa. Priscilla, the agent, the owner’s mother (because the owner lives in France), and Mr. Casa all off to get the contract notarized in a local area of town. The owner’s mother so sweet and communicates with me in Arabic just like I am a local.   We walk together in the streets holding hands-Priscilla and the owner not Priscilla and Mr. Casa. 

Signing  a one year contract is not the same as signing one in the US.  You sign it, but if you want to move out, you give one month notice and pass go without paying any fine or penalty. 

The owner's mother still stops by on occasion “Just to check on me.” Who knows if it is secretly to see the apartment or her really worrying about me. I like to think she cares-it makes me feel a bit more special at the end of the day=)

Come a Knock On My Door

It just so happens that Mr. Casa’s brother lives in the next building directly next to mine.  In the biggest city in all of Morocco with apartments spread out all over-I live next to Mr. Casa’s brother. I just had to repeat this weird coincidence again.  We took a trip over to my new neighbors house to say hello. I walked into a Bachelors apartment with red walls and black couches, an open closet of suits and nice, expensive shoes, and a cloud full of smoke being puffed into the air.  His brother looks like Mr. Casa in a pimp suit wearing, too much gel, flashy car, smoking cigarettes kind of way.  He is good looking, but he pretty much has player written on his forehead.  Perhaps Mr. Casa had player written on his forehead, but I was too blind to see it.

Mr. Casa was talking about me in Arabic to his brother and I had no idea what he was saying. It could have been,”I am really crazy about this girl” or it could have been a “Hey dude, check out this dumb American girl I picked up.” 

We sat on his brother’s couch and his brother was discussing going out and of course I was interested (escaping from reality and escaping from the beautiful man in front of me).  Mr. Casa suggested we could stay and watch a movie together or I gave me permission to go out with his brother-Priscilla chooses going out. All my time traveling and going out was not a priority, but I come to Casa and it becomes a priority all of a sudden.  Oh Priscilla…

At that moment, Mr. Casa and I were soooo happy with each other. We were glowing and looked at each other with such admiration. I said to him, “I think that we don’t know where this will go, but if one of us makes the choice to mess it up, we are just stupid.”  

Let’s stay tuned to see who the stupid one is….

Priscilla Finds An Apartment

Most of my apartment hunting had been conducted with a friend a couch surfer, a co-worker, a new friend, alone, but save the best for last.  My last apartment visit was with my good luck charm-Mr. Casa. Since I had been apartment hunting, I had never asked him to go with me to see an apartment, but one Casablanca night I asked him to meet me and come check it out.  The agent spoke English so there was not a language barrier, but he showed up. 

Before I was looking for apartments, I had a vision of what I wanted.  A nicely, furnished apartment with marble counter tops, a big terrace, freshly painted, new appliances, Moroccan furniture with an Arabian nights kind of feel, a fresh scent, and peaceful neighborhood.

I was greeted at the door by a kind Muslim lady with the warmest smile like sunshine-she was so sweet.  While I was presenting with a poker face and a kind smile, I was secretly smiling huge at Mr. Casa saying, “Omg, omg, omg.” I was excstatic that I finally found my apartment.  I knew when I first walked in that this was “My apartment and my new HOME.” Wow, what a feeling after traveling for one year- what a feeling!

It had  two bedrooms so I had to find a roommate or just keep the extra room for myself, which was fine for me because I am so independent and not interested in a roommate. Mr. Casa joked about moving in, which I did not find funny and I was not interested in the idea.  But I expected he would be spending a lot of time there with me.  His insecurities blossomed when I finally moved in my apartment. He thought that I would have my new apartment, my new life, and just forget about him-uhh not exactly Mr. Insecure.

Anyways, the pink and purple walls, everything is brand new and built from scratch. Here is Mr. Casa sleeping on the couch.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Somebody Call 911

After my wall incident, I had a pain a strong pain in the back of my head.  The only time this “headache” came about was at the worst time possible…with Mr. Casa. Whenever I would kiss him or begin to feel “happy”, the headache came.  We used to laugh about it and thought it was quite funny. 

But one night it was not so funny, I was in the grocery store and the sharp, excruciating pain came to the back of my head. It was so sudden and literally throbbing that I fell down to the floor. I took a taxi to the local hospital and was shouting at the front desk guy “English please.” He gave me a number and directed me to the ER doors. At first glance, the injuries, the smell, and the sick people-made me almost throw up. 

While I popped 3 pain pills at the grocery store, I went to the pharmacy and took three more. A total of six. I have no interest in taking medication and use the most natural remedies I can. I am not even used to experiencing such pain so I panicked, popped some pills, and cried the tears of a ten year old girl.   

Mr. Casa came to my rescue in the rain. He held me while I cried on his shoulder and we walked a bit together.  The feeling of his warm embrace was priceless-you can not replace that feeling with a cookie, a movie, or a drink. It is the feeling of support-something I am constantly missing in my life.  IT felt so good-addicting one might even say. 

He stayed with me by my side all night and instead of being thankful- I was being a bit of a brat and a hypochondriac concerned that something was really wrong with me.  I was thinking that I had to go back to the US- wanting to go back to the states to see my Best New York doctors. This experience with my head and the chest pain I had been experiencing from second hand smoke lead me to believe that I am going to die.  I was in a state of panic that there was something really wrong with me.  When I look back I was being quite an American brat. I have a couple health problems (when I usually have none) and I act like it is the end of the world-grow up Priscilla! I was privileged in the US, which causes me to develop an attitude and make unfair comparisons about healthcare and assume the worst.  (hey at least I am honest about it!)

I would like to add that I am not the type who has medical problems and goes in and out of hospitals AT ALL. But to him, it must have appeared that I was some crazy hypochondriac always having healthproblems –this is really not the case.

 When you are healthy and you have actual things start to happen, you can’t predict how you are going to respond-sometimes it’s just a natural reflex…

Rescued

Throughout my days, I would hear this song by Selena Gomez and my heart felt such content, security, and safety.  I felt like I could breathe and one man made me feel this way....

"I feel like I've been rescued, I've been set free, you are beautiful what you do to me....."

India, Turkey, and Morocco

A few of the most amazing countries in the world, which have one common similarity-they are alive.  All these countries have a beating pulse that is full of authenticity, cultural identity, altruism, religion, family, and love. Charm, mystery, music, enchantment, natural wonders, historical empires, mosques, temples, and hidden treasures. These countries are spectacular!


Family
Work
Religion
Altruism

Post Unfinished Stay Tuned……..

Ranking them

1.)    India

    2.)    Turkey
    3.)    Morocco

Priscilla Hits A Brick Wall

One night I decided to meet up with my friend Adil(a friend who works for a great NGO in Casa).
We went out to a couple random bars in the medina and then we ended up back in Gauthier near the Irish pub.  My NGO friend always makes me laugh and we joke about him and all his girlfriends and his crazy lifestyle-no romantic connection (that was how I looked at it of course).  I wanted to be out in Casa, meet people, and not glue on to Mr. Casa so I went out like a normal person would do when coming to a new city. 

After a few glasses of wine and a lot of laughs, we decided to go continue our night at the Irish Pub.  I only wanted to go there to hear some jazz or blues music so I left the guys outside and walked in to check out the music.  Right as I walked in someone was walking right out- Mr. Casa.

I said, “Ohhh, Hi” with a very suspicious look on my face-this suspicious look was me having two glasses of wine and embarrassed (when you stop drinking and you drink two glasses of wine it feels like 5). Both of us did not mention we were going out after.  He left and I went back outside to report to the boys about the music. He was standing next to Mr. Vespa’s vespa.  His head was down and I could see the hurt in his eyes- I told my friends I was going to stay and told them to go home.  I walked over to the bike to tell Mr. Casa I was going to stay inside and go talk to Nawfel (the person who makes me feel happy no matter what happens)-Irish is my safety place.  Mr. Casa was not happy with this decision and drove off into the night.

I sat and I described my bad day of apartment hunting to Nawfel while continuing with wine (poor coping skills of a bad day) Why I could not do this with Mr. Casa? Why did I have to run off with others?

TRUTH: Priscilla had a rough day of apartment hunting and just wanted to unwind.

I decided to stop by his apartment after to discuss this matter.  Not finding the light in the stairway, I made my own attempts to walk in the dark. 1,2,3, 4, and WALL. I banged my head so hard against the brick wall (the first time this happened was in Paris 5 years ago except that time I ended up with a bloody lip and a lot of people trying to help).

And this is how the head pain began….

Noone Should Make You Feel Inferior Without Your Consent

The Great Eleanor Roosevelt says that

                     "Noone should make you Feel Inferior Without Your Consent."

With Mr. Casa, I just never feel “good enough” for him.  I cannot say that this is something new as I have suffered from body image issues since I was about 15 years old.  Being with mannnny gorgeous men over the years(soccer player for Spain, wealthy and successful business owners, actors, producers, models, and the list goes on) , I never quite felt “good enough” and always wondered what they were doing with me.  With time, my self esteem has significantly improved. I realize my potential and I appreciate my brains way more than my appearance. 

With Mr. Casa, he told me in the beginning of his relationship that he thought I was “fat.” Oh this word, I will never be comfortable or happy with hearing, never.  While Americans are definitely more mindful of using this word because they are aware of the psychological impact, Moroccans use this word with absolutely no censor.  When someone is called fat, it is not seen as hurtful rather it is seen with acceptance. A person may just say “Yes, I am fat” and smile. 

As a typical man, he tried to take back his comment and tell me that he was just “joking. “ In the meantime, I know this was bull shit. Why? We were looking over my pictures and I showed him ones of me when I was thinner and I saw his reaction shift/change(hello lets keep in mind that I am a psychoanalyst and an intuitive human being I pick up on any shifts or changes in behavior, mood, non verbal body language) very, very quickly.  When he looked at these photos, he said, “Wow when were these photos from? I responded with “Last year.”

His fat comment did not come from the photos, but it started after I mentioned running and training for the half marathon and not having time to train.  He started laughing and said, “Haha YOU are going to train for the marathon?” You can say I am fat, you can say I am ugly OK, but do not act like I have no athletic ability because this is beyoooond false.

I run, I play volleyball, basketball, soccer, roller blade, bike, hike, do extreme sports, just went windsurfing, and had been swimming all summer- Do not makes me out to be lazy and unathletic-just do not do it please.

He said this fat comment and I started getting defensive- a normal response for me that automatically occurs.  I told him I am very upset and do not understand why people have to comment on my physical appearance because this DOES happen frequently.  People in India would say, “You could lose some KGs and you look fat etc.”

Are we living in a world so shallow that this is all we have to focus on? Start noticing my personality because in my opinion that is wayyy better than my physical appearance.  I wish that people would notice my personality and intelligence first, but that is what takes work to prove because men just focus on what you look like most of the time. 

So, I asked Mr. Casa, do I comment on your physical appearance and how you look? His answer was of course, “No.” I told him I did not want to see him again and I just wanted to leave-being a dramatic girl I still am.  I could tell in his eyes that he felt really bad and we made up, but this moment still sat in my unconscious and stayed with me. 

And Now I Get It

Coming to Casablanca, the economic capital of Morocco, the basic items like jeans, shoes, tops, and jackets can be quite expensive in the commerical stores. You can shop in the street markets and shops in Maarif.  This can be quite an adventure with no organization and small, close quarters with no space.  The clothing also looks like it is second hand.  There might be a hole in it or it has a missing button. The price is discounted, but not enough.  It should cost about $5 and they are charging $30-ridiculous!

My days in New York walking in and out of Macys, Loehmanns, Nordstrom Rack, Marshalls, Burlington, TJ Maxx, Bloomingdales, and all the amazing discount stores- I never really felt thankful for all the amazing discounts and name brands.  Whenever, I was shopping in New York,(thinking about this experience makes my heart skip beats) I always wondered, "What is the big deal? Why are these tourists shopping like it is the end of the world?"

And now I get it! What I wouldn't do for just a few days of New York shopping or even Chicago shopping or LA shopping at the Beverly Center. It is no wonder I was always shopping in the states because the shopping, sales, brands, quality, and fashion is amazing!

In Casa, I have done a wonderful job not shoppping and only shopping when there are sales at the big commerical stores. It makes not shopping a lot easier for me because I am not going to spend money on something that is not great quality or a name brand, but completely overpriced.  As a fashion snob, I just can not pay $200 for a pair of nice, but average quality boots when I know they are a quarter of the price somewhere else.

When I speak with locals, they all say they do not shop in Casa and they shop in Europe especially Paris and Spain.  Priscilla may just be heading to Spain to fill up her empty suitcase.  When you need everything, you wonder how to go about doing all this shopping. The Morocco Mall sale starts January 9 so perhaps I can wait a long while-NOT.  

Moooo Pris Misses Milk

Milk is one of my favorite things in the world. I especially love drinking it with desserts, biscuits, and making fruit shakes. 

Unfortunately, the milk constantly makes my stomach sick. When you go to buy it in the stores, you can rarely find it within an expiration date of less than 3 days. I search for a newer expiration date, but it very difficult to find. The warm milk sold on the shelf has a 6 month shelf life and I have tried it, but there is still something off with it.  Many times I will buy milk open it up, smell it, and then throw it in the garbage because it smells funky. 

I have been traveling for a year so it is not like I am not familiar with the milk problem I encounter around the world.  In Turkey, the milk taste funny, but I got used to it overtime.  When it comes to food, I can be difficult to please, but when it comes to certain things I am not going to compromise will you?

In Morocco, I decided to drink a Café Au Lait with funny tasting milk. I thought “I am always complaining about everything and maybe there is really nothing wrong with it, but the taste is just funny.” Well my stomach was not happy with that decision for the day. 

Oh I miss my Organic Milks from America or even the regular skim!

Please Don’t Stop the Music

As Rhianna says, “Please don’t stop the music.” It is a phrase that stays true to my heart. My main reason for going out is not to drink, not to meet men, but TO LISTEN TO THE MUSIC AND DANCE.

As I get older, I love my peace and quiet at home and going to clubs is not really a big interest anymore, but I still love, love to dance. Although, I am realizing this love for dance can go into a CLASSROOM and NOT A CLUB.  But The best is going out with someone you adore and have good chemistry with dancing- i.e. Mr. Casa. It makes me want to go out and enjoy the music with him.  Also, two important things as I get older: music and atmosphere. No time to be wasted at bars, I crave nice upscale lounges, hotel bars, and restaurants IF I even go out.  

With or without him, music is so meaningful to me whether classical, pop, rock, dance, international, salsa, shakira, Arabic- it lights up my soul and beats through my veins!  Since, I have been 18, it has been this way: the love for the Dj and house/electronic music.  It is something that people do not really understand unless they are electronic music fans.  David Guetta was a DJ  I loved for years and years way before he even became famous.  Now, David Guetta, Calvin Harris, and other DJs are all collaborating with hip hop artists.  It seems like every hit song they place is now mixed with an electronic beat. Why is this one may ask?  Because electronic beats touch your soul and they make you feel GOOD!

When I listen to Kaskade, David Guetta, Calvin Harris, Deep Dish, Axwell, etc… I am connected to the beat and the lyrics.  The lyrics are for real human beings and make you feel truly connected.  Love, life, Dancing, Feeling, nature, passion, The World, and spirituality.  I love the vocal tracks and I like to say that the beats beat through my veins......

Ce La Vie

One of my favorite songs of 2012 and a song that makes me happy!

 

Friends that Make You Feel Like Family

The beauty of meeting Mr. Casa was his friends.  We sat at the Coffee shop and he introduced me to his five friends.  They were full of smiles and very welcoming.  As time went by, one friend came and another came and another came.  By the end of time it was 10+ friends all sitting and drinking coffee. Immediately, we were laughing and joking and things felt so easy.  Mr. Casa sat back and kept to himself.  In comparison to his friends, he is more quiet and reserved and does not talk as much. 

Omar, specifically, made me feel very welcome telling me about some Moroccan traditions and saying that we would all go together and do things in Morocco, like go to Marrakech, eat some traditional food, and explore nightlife. He spoke of his love for Ray Charles and jazz music.   It felt so genuine-his interest in us all spending time together…

 

Some Moroccans will spend hours selling you a sheep.  It is the best sheep in Morocco, it has the warmest fur, the best meat, and you will love it…. They get you so excited about the sheep and then it turns out that they just went off and sold it to someone else PRIS

We went out to a local live music place in Ain Dieb.  It was pretty chilled out and I was eager to dance, but it was really nice spending time with his friends.  They were all checking on me and making sure I was “okay” and I enjoyed the place.  They were so happy and their happiness was spread right to me and I guess to my heart. I felt a sense of belonging like I had found a local place, new friends, and a great guy.  It reminded me of my close connections with friends in Turkey. I guess it reminded me of my time with Mr. Bigg and his friends in Istanbul-not too far off. In general, there were a lot of great friends besides Mr. Bigg’s that I met in the great city of Istanbul. We went off to the next place Armstrong, which is famous in Casablanca. They have a live music band with some classic hit songs and new ones. We sat and danced together and Mr. Casa was sitting back and observing. All four of us got into a circle holding each other's shoulders and jumping up and down. Mr. Casa and I danced together and I was not sure what was happening, but it felt really good. It was a feeling I did not expect to feel, but I guess I did. 

 

 

 

 

                                                Happy, Happy, Happy Days