How do I pick the country I go next? Morocco started while I
was in India and – in true librarian fashion – it started with a book. The
Caliph’s House – an unassuming title I threw in my suitcase – was the story of
an English family who live for year in Fez, fixing up an old mansion as the
city around them ebs and flows with emotion and life. Like any home improvement
project, this one was fraught with hysterical disaster – well, hysterical for
the reader. But the lengths the author
goes to and the result wove a Moroccan spell in my mind I did not let go. So this
year I am off to follow my dream!
The other books I read after I decided to go as a way to get
background. I find fiction tells me more about the lives of the people than
politics or history. I also listened to lectures on the contrasts of
Jewish-Christian-Islamic faiths and some on the political history of the Middle
East.
Ah – language. I am counting on some old, old, old college
French and the kindness of strangers. And the universal magic words: Master
Card.
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