Final Destination: Al-Maghreb Al-Aqsa

So I’ve been flying for the past two days. . . Yeah, sounds great, huh? I flew from Los Angeles to New York, and from New York to Germany. Note to self: Fly British Airways next time. Don’t get me wrong, Lufthansa was okay, but I prefer the luxury of having my own t.v. and choosing what I want to watch. The food tastes better on BA anyways and the girls are a little prettier (maybe) and there’s more Arabs to talk to. By the way, Barakat (my friend) is telling me that it’s probably more enjoyable flying BA, because you’re bound to see some Arab guy walking around with his black, attractive bag, causing you to get all freaked out because at that moment, the only thing that crosses your mind is that your next bite will be your last (Boom! Boom! Get me?)

Anyways. . . so we got to Frankfurt and man, was I hungry! It was barely 11 a.m. and my flight didn’t leave until 10 p.m. and I was so bored and so tired and you know how expensive airports are! So I got me out of that place and took a train into downtown Frankfurt where I walked around in the cold, bitter rain. I stuck out like a sore thumb with my PASHiON shirt and my small carry-on bag! I found a delicious little sandwich shop which I thoroughly enjoyed after 2 big sandwiches and then headed back to airport again. I was hoping to see Hitler’s ghost on the train back to the airport, but sadly enough, our meeting will have to wait till the next time I’m in Germany. I got back to the airport and slept a little bit, just in time to start boarding the plane bound for Casablanca, or as we say in Moroccan Arabic, Caza.

I got into Caza at 11:30 p.m. and to my wonderful surprise, there were no more trains, which meant that I had to wait till 5:50 the next morning for the first train to come. So I had to sleep in the airport, which of course didn’t happen; I tried fervishly to get some rest, but only managed to get one hour of sleep. So, I duked it out til 5:45 when I walked down to the ticket counter, bought my ticket and got on the train headed to Casa Voyageurs, where I got off and transferred over to the next platform and got on the train headed for Fez. It was good to hear Arabic again, as I began to talk to those around me. Gosh, I’ve forgotten so much, but Al-Hamdu Lillah (Praise be to God) I’m back and I’ll soon pick it up again In Shaa Allah (If God Wills). The train was brand spanking new (it was one of those two-storey trains), the windows were clean and without any scratches on them, and the seats were soft, clean and comfortable! Holy HFAC, it was totally worth the extra eight dirhams (roughly equivalent to $1). Goodbye old Alcatraz Train! Plus it was super fast; it got me to Fez in roughly three hours, whereas the old train usually took 5 to 6 hours! I got in at about 10:30 and got home at about 11. It’s great to be home and to be with those I love and who love me! “Nobody loves you!” is what Barakat “gently” told me, as he sits next to me while I’m writing this entry. The important thing is that I arrived safely in one piece, Mr. Barakat! Anyways, here’s to this summer in Morocco: “In yanSurkom Allahu, falaa ghaaliba lakum!”