There is Hassan- the
nice Arabic singer
Hicham-the original
one I called about the ad who speaks no English, but he tried with little
phrases like “I love India” “How are
youuuu”
Salim- He always
looks angry, but he is actually really a nice person
And my favorite
Mustafa- a big, dark skinned overweight guy with a Hawaiian shirt that he
barely fits into. He is so sweet and
friendly with his kind smile and double chin. I walk through the streets asking
Hicham and Hassan “Where is my Mustafa?” He is coming Priscilla. He is coming.
My Mustafa tried so hard to work a deal on a beautiful furnished apartment
right in the city center. It was a
studio fit for Marliyn Monroe-everything brand new with a bedroom fit for a
Queen and a Moroccan style living room with a gigantic flat screen. My little Mustafa, well I guess not literally
little, tried to work the French lady down, but the 1000Dh discount was not
flying with this lady.
Mustafa apologized
and said he would try his best to find an apartment in the city center. We sat on the street corner all looking
puzzled, our hands on our hips, and our hands on our chins- Where can we go
next? They were such a sweet group of guys who were genuinely trying to help me
find something nice, but affordable. They tried to show me a couple other
places, but up they were like rhinestones compared to a diamond.
When you take a bite out of the sweetest
tasting fruit, it is hard to settle for jam
Often, I had to
laugh to myself about how comical all this was and thought about, “Where are
the video cameras, really?” Priscilla speaking Engija and trying to negociate
on prices with three characters and a big, friendly, fat man in a Hawaiian
shirt with no neck-really this was comedy central.
Thank you to my
apartment clan who made me laugh and smile, but I found my apartment all by
myself… and with the touch of an angel
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