December 25, 2010 § 1 Comment
In another life, I would probably have been a Moroccan man, smoking each day away in some café. They never seem to leave or arrive; they’re content to simply ease back idly in some chair, or sit on the edge of it given a suitable conversation. These men will sink into eternity without sharing their wonderings, revelations, and coffeehouse philosophies to the outside world. In an odd way, I envy the simplicity of talking politics to a never-ending cup of coffee. To them, today is just another day full of coffee and tea. In fact, the vast majority of people I encounter today will shrug at attaching significance to the 25th of December.
Nevertheless, today is Christmas and Lisa and I are a pair of homesick vagabonds. We’re taking a train to Fes, a bus to Ifrane and then a taxi to Asrou to spend at least a few hours in the woods and mountains. We will stay tonight, and take a night bus back the following night.
When I was young I wanted much, but now my needs are few. Perhaps the crossroads between needs and wants is enhanced by distance, and I feel it in more than just miles. I’ve been looking at myself like an old yellowed map bearing an obvious answer. I have so many loved ones, what else could I possibly need? Merry Christmas everybody.