The world: and a tale from the Montague homestead - Part 1

Whenever he visited me in my Moroccan olive grove, he would wake up early and head out.   My father lived by his morning walks, and my village on the outskirts of Marrakech offered the perfect opportunity.  It was a traditional and humble village -- there was a grocery store of sorts, a place that sold hardware, a cobbler, a tea stall, and the workshops of craftsmen working with the most rudimentary tools.  In the afternoon, children loitered and young men lingered.  

I would walk with my father sometimes in the early evening when the air was cool, and I always found the village changed from the village I knew.  The villagers would see him coming and they'd pause, their faces animated.  A-Salaam-aleikum, Joel, they would cry, their hands patting their heart in that sweet Moroccan gesture.  A-Salaam-aleikum my friend, he would reply, his hand patting his heart, too.  My father would give me a running commentary as we walked through.  Mohamed is the most remarkable teashop owner, he would say.  And truly his tea is the very best.  Or...Have you seen the lantern that Khalid is working on?  The man is nothing short of extraordinary, he would exclaim. Or...  Jamal fixed my shoe on the spot and he charged me only 10 dirhams.  Really, he is undervaluing himself and so  I gave him twice that, he'd say, shaking his head.  

I arrived in Wellesley Massachusetts, that town outside of Boston where my parents had lived for 35 odd years.  I needed a check cashed, and so my father took me to his bank.  The bank manager was talking to a customer when he saw us walking in.  He excused himself and grasped my father's outstretched right hand in both of his.  Joel!  Of course we can do that for your daughter!  You just tell me what you need, he boomed.  As we were walking out, the bank tellers leaned over the counter and waved.  Joel, thank you for the cookies you brought us last week, they called out.  My father waved back, and then he turned to me and said confidentially,  Those girls are just so pretty, aren't they?  And so smart!  Rana is from Turkey, and she just won the employee of the month.  I'm not surprised one bit, he added.

  Cd5ceb12f0b7bd7a813290dbf7b2ad8cImage from here.

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Wyoming: and a tale of love in an endless field, Part 3

I remember when I first met her all those years ago.  She had come into my office in Morocco talking about women’s rights, saying she wanted to do something -- something to make the situation better.  And I found myself offering her a job.  Just like that-- so fast that even she looked stunned.  She was a girl from Wyoming and a girl from Montana (because one state wasn’t enough).  And so I called her father on his ranch in those far off plains and I promised him that she would be okay if she took this job.  And he said… well, he said, yes. 

I knew soon after that she was like no one I had ever known.  That she had this shiny quality that seeped on to everything she touched.  And when she laughed, her whole body laughed.  And she could transfix you, like a shooting star or the snap of two fingers. 

And I remember when she first met him.  He was in my office, too.  He was the one who would shrug his shoulders and show me something he had written -- some piece of analysis.  And I’d ask, You wrote this?  Because it was good, really too good.  And I knew even then that he would go far, very far. 

So it made sense, perfect sense, that he would find her and she would find him.  Because the universe has its ways and one must never question them.

And this was their day

yes, this was their day.  

K&L 1
K&L 2
K&L 3
Back on that ranch.  Back on those plains. Where love is an endless field.    

K&L 4
PS Feeling so grateful today because of this.

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Wyoming: and a tale where we dance

Oh, let's make it a weekend, where we throw caution to the wind.  And dance (at least in the kitchen)!

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PS Check out the radio interview I did on Amy's Table on Cincinnati’s Q102 FM.  It's all about Moroccan design!  You can listen to it right here.

Note: Subscribe to My Marrakesh here.  Follow My Marrakesh on Twitter here.  Let's be friends on Facebook here.  Take a peek at my Pinterest boards here.