sanaa sa'eeda 1434

Vibrant smells and piquant colors splash before our senses just one hour after disembarkment in Marrakesh. Afternoon autumn light creates arabesques of long shadows on dusty soil and red walls. Palm trees stand still and act the role of a prompter, shall my eyes miss any shadow of color on bricky walls of the medina. Fresh espresso, colorful pottery and fabrics, tajine, Qur'ān texts everywhere, veiled barber women with aberrantly colorful exotic eyes -- that's Morocco as I witnessed.

Ahmet is 62 and that's all my french understands. He agrees to pose for a picture, for 10 dirham (almost 1 euro). After 30 seconds of grunting and sweating behind my camera, I give it up and check my pockets for dirham money, but nothing left. Then I found a coin of 1 euro somewhere and smiling, put it in the palm of Ahmet. He suspiciously checked the money and returned it back to me with an unaccepting face: "Non, non, d'argent locale!". "Je n'ai pas locale", I said honestly-hopelessly and looked around. "Un moment!", said another man, took the coin and run to a small grocery just behind us. In 30 seconds he came back with 10 dirham, which is directly given for inspection to Ahmet. Ahmet smiles "merci" to his friend and nods to me his way of "OK, thank you!".

Morocco has a lot to offer, unfortunately not in today's currency. Having couscous and mint thé, talking with the local people you understand that the 40% literacy rate killed whatever pulsed in the veins of Hedjkheperre Setepenre Shoshenq I and Augustine of Hippo. Nothing besides ruined red kasbah's remained from this great time of uprise and honor. The people that ruled North Africa and Iberia had lost somewhere along the way their pride and bravery. Some sparks may be found in the eyes of these men and women, standing still in front of my camera, 10 dirham fortunate.

Thou globalization for the Barbers started as early as the times of conquering Al-Andalus and building Alhambra, now only signs for it is the coca cola translated logo, Zinedine Zidane and Lorine Zeineb Nora Talhaoui, a.k.a. Loreen of Sweden, a Berber descent singer who won 2012 Eurovision.

A few days later, laying on an old sandy-dusty matrice just in the forehead of Sahara, sipping scotch from a plastic cup and watching the dry cold sky, I gave myself up to the tasteless weakness to think about those many men, crossing in the moonish starrish nights the cold sands of this very same Sahara. It took just another few minutes to get used to the spectacular view and then noticed the silent glimmer of the satellites with their aetheric agenda to rain over us thousands of TV commercials, skype chats and telephone calls, wherever we are. Enough about secluded distant places.

We just hardly removed the red powder of the dunes from our clothes and hairs, when we were greeted with Sanaa Sa'eeda. Oh yes, it is new year. Islamic time starts in 622 AD, when Muhammad was instructed by his Lord to move from Mecca to Medina. By their lunar calendar, it is new 1434 year.

Some pictures from this journey are enjoyable here.