05 Track 5

Unit 3

Travel Adventures

Chapter 1

Into the Heart of a Family in Casablanca

Page 41

Into the Heart of a Family in Casablanca

Here what I love about travel: strangers can often amaze you. Sometimes a single day can bring a beautiful surprise, a simple kindness that opens your heart and makes you a different person by the time you go to sleep − more tender, less jaded than you were when you woke up.

This particular day began at seven in the morning and Casablanca. My friend Miguel and I were going to visit Abdelatif, a young man we’d worked with on a volunteer project in Kenitra, an industrial city on the Moroccan coast.

He’d been expecting us to arrive in Casablanca for a few days now, and since he had no telephone, he’d written down his address and told us to just show up − his mother and sisters were always at home.

As my plane was leaving from Casablanca the following morning, we wanted to get an early start so we could spend the whole day with him.

Apparently, the address Abdelatif had written down for us was hard to understand, and when we got into the neighborhood, our taxi driver started asking directions. Eventually, with the help of a policeman and then a little boy, we were led to a house down a winding road.

Our driver went to the door and inquired. He came back to the cab saying Abdelatif’s sister was in this house visiting friends and would come along to show us where they lived.

Soon a girl of about sixteen emerged from the house. Surprisingly, she didn’t resemble abdelatif at all.

Still, I’d seen other families where children didn’t look alike, so I didn’t give it too much thought. We waited in the yard while the sister went in and returned accompanied by her mother, sisters, and brother-in-law, all of whom greeted us with cautious Warmth.

We were shown into a pristine home with multicolored tiles lining the walls. The mother told us in broken French that Abdelatif was out, but would be home soon.

We sat on low, cushioned seats in the living room drinking sweet mint tea and eating sugar cookies, while the family members took turns sitting with us and making shy, polite conversation that frequently lapsed into uncomfortable silence.

As anything was said, Miguel would say, “What?” and I would translate the simple phrase for him: “Nice weather today. Tomorrow perhaps rain.”

And our past and as the guard kept changing more family members emerge from inner rooms was again struck by the fact that none of them looked a thing like our friend. How did Abdelatif fit into this picture? Was he adopted? I was very curious to find out.

After two hours had passed with no sign of Abdelatif, the family insisted on serving us a meal of couscous and chicken.

“Soon,” was the only response I got when I inquired as to what time he might arrive. But at last, we heard the words we had been waiting for. “Please,” said the mother. “Abdelatif is here.”

“Oh, good,” I said, and for a moment, before I walked into the living room, his face danced in my mind − the brown eyes, the smile filled with radiant life.

We entered the lovely tiled room we’d sat in before and a young man came forward to shake our hands with an uncertain expression on his face.

“Hello, my friends,” he said cautiously. “Hello,” I smiled, slightly confused. “Is Abdelatif here?” “I am Abdelatif.”

“But… but…” I looked from him to the family and then began to giggle nervously. “I - I’m sorry. I’m afraid we’ve made a bit of a mistake. I – I’m so embarrassed.”

“What? What? Miguel asked urgently. “I don’t understand. Where is he?”

“We’ve got the wrong AbdelatifI,” I told him, and then looked around at the entire family who’d spent most of the day entertaining us. “I’m afraid we don’t actually know your son.”

For a split second no one said anything, and I wished I could disappear right there on the spot.

Then the uncle exclaimed heartily, “It’s no problem!” “Yes,” the mother joined in. “It doesn’t matter at all. Won’t you stay for dinner, please?”

I was so overwhelmed by their kindness that tears rushed to my eyes. “Thank you so much,” I said fervently. “It’s been a beautiful, beautiful day, but please… could you help me find this address?

I took out the piece of paper Abdulla teeth had given me back Inc. Anita and the new Abdulla Atif, his uncle and his brother-in-law came forward to decipher it. “This is by law. Abdelatif!” said the second Abdelatif recognizing the address. “We went to school together! He lives less than a kilometer from here. I will bring you to his house.”

And that is how it happened. After taking photos and exchanging addresses and hugs and promises to write, Miguel and I left our newfound family and arrived at the home of our friend Abdelatif as the last Orange streak of the sunset was fading into the dark night.

There, I reached out and hugged him with relief, exclaiming, “I thought we’d never find you!”