My Marrakesh

Marrakech: and a Thanksgiving tale of clementines

It's Thanksgiving in the US today, and this year I am giving thanks not just for the big things, but for the little ones, too.  For the banana pancakes, the impromptu magic shows, the phone calls from best friends, the perfect lipstick, the crayoned drawings, the olive oil soap, the finely woven sheets, the bedtime stories......

And the freshly picked clementines.  Because so much of what makes life special lies in the details.  And with that, let me share a freshly squeezed tale .

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They took a walk in their garden.  They held hands because it made them feel happy. 

Their cat, Blinky, came too.

It was sunny in Marrakech.  The bougainvillea matched a certain little girl's skirt.

They picked clementines from their own trees.

And they stored them in their specially designed clementine-catching hat.

   

They tasted delicious.

They sat on the grass.  The little girl's skirt bloomed around her.  Her mother thought she was quite possibly the prettiest flower in the garden.

The dog, Rocky, agreed with the mother's thinking.  He was quite possibly the cleverest dog in the garden.....

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Happy Thanksgiving from me to you.  May your days be filled with freshly picked clementines, just poured hot coffee and brand new magazines....      

Marrakech forecast: mostly sunny

Your messages and emails poured in.  So much kindness, so much support from near and from far.  I actually wept over the abundance of it all and the way that the universe had gathered around me and lifted me up, when I needed it most.  Thank you.  I feel so much better now.  So much braver, so much stronger. 

So the dream carries on.  The checks are written and cashed.  The negotiations are broached and agreed to.  The workers paint, plant and plaster.  Peacock Pavilions is there before me, at the edge of my fingertips.  Not a figment of my imagination but proof that dreams are worthy and can come true.....if you believe in them enough.

I take a deep breath, and then another and another.  Then I watch my dancing girl sideways.  I remind myself that if on this journey, I get dizzy and fall, I have only to pick myself up, dust myself off and twirl again....

Marrakech: the presence of clouds and ____ springs eternal

Dear friends,

I am living with anxiety now.  It's taking its toll.  Sleep comes uneasily, concentration is difficult, tasks go undone.  We learned today that although our bank loan (our third) has been approved, it seems that somehow (How?  How?) the money will not be in our hands until mid-January.  Mid-January!  But……..but……orders have been put in for windows and doors…….for insulation and bathroom tiles.  If we do not pay…we will forfeit our deposits.  My parents have suggested that we temporarily close down our project -- our Peacock Pavilions job site.  (We are eternally grateful to my parents, the most generous of all people – the funds and good will that have sprung willingly from their checkbooks and hearts have kept us afloat for some time now.)  But closing down our construction site is simply not possible.  We would have to fire all our workers, who would then get new jobs, and where would we be?

* 

The fact is…….that we can’t stop.

*

So at 6am this morning, we held an emergency meeting – Chris and I.  We looked at each other, and then, in worried whispers, we came to a decision; we are cashing in retirement funds. And we must pay the fines that this entails. I do know that this is a drastic thing to do (hand wringing, hand wringing) but desperate times call for desperate measures.

* 

We must not falter.  So I beg you to send no messages with alternative plans or ideas.  I am so fragile right now, and time is against us, you see.  What I need most is your kind support, your encouragement, your shoulder to lean on.  If I could ask you please, please to take a moment to close your eyes and send out into the universe a small and resolute message of strength …winding its way from your home or office across the ocean…..to our little olive grove here in Marrakech.  You will know it's our place by the flowers spilling over the gate, by the peacock feathers strewn on the path, by the children’s shoes by the front door ….

*

This time will pass and be over.  There’s no time to look back.

With love,

Maryam in Marrakesh

Top image ninazdesign, bottom image afihara

Marrakech: and the happy loser....?

Sigh, I lost the 2007 Annual Weblog Awards.  So am I sad?  Depressed?  Hair a tangled mess, wallowing in chocolate............?  Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.......

Aw, c'mon.  Being a bridesmaid is super fun.  Besides, I came in second place. ...Yay!  I was in 9th place and wound up in second.  Yippee! 

I was also excited to be rubbing shoulders with the big boys (here and here) at the top of the Best Middle East or Africa Blog category.  War correspondents. (Did you know, dear friends, that I have been to Iraq twice since the war for my work ?  Another story, another time....)

I want to thank so many of you that took the time to vote for this blog.  And the blog love I received from my fellow bloggers was just *incredible*.  So I want to send out a very heartfelt thank you, in particular, to Ambular, Apartment Therapy/San Francisco, Belle Vivir, Black Dog Knits, Charming Quark, Cote de Texas, Crust Station, Decor8, Design DNA, Design & Inredningbloggen, Designers Block, Diary of a Heretic, Esprit de l'Escalier, Evenstar Art, A Fanciful Twist, Figs Olives Wine, Indigo Blue, In My Neighbourhood, Katiedid, Kristin Robinson, Liberty Post, Mint Tinted Vanilla, Nomadic Creations, An Ordinary Life, Paris Parfait, Patricia Gray, Persisting Stars, Rodrigvitz Style, The Sandman Chronicles, Servant of Chaos, Stiletto Heights, Style Court, The a la menthe, and Thru my lens lightly.

You all made me feel like the popular girl in highschool :-) I so appreciate your support. 

 

Image by LOvejoydyver

Morocco: and a birthday wish

I am feeling blue.
I am going grey.

Candles crowded on the cake today.
A dark and slithering snake makes way.

Growing dim, my own bright lights?
I vow to wear striped tights....

For a meal fit for a birthday or any day, take a peek at the Perfect Pantry blog for a recipe for Moroccan lemon chicken with olives.  Yum.

Morocco: and a little love story

She was in Casablanca, in a meeting with an important official.  Deep in discussions of program impact, of target setting, of gender mainstreaming.  It was then that her phone beeped with a message.  She looked at the phone distractedly –  she wondered if her next appointment was running late. 

The message read like this: 

It’s been ten years.  And I still love you and need you. 

Your husband

She looked down at the phone and paused, and then - just for a moment - she shut her eyes.  The important official leaned over and asked quietly, Is everything alright? 

She looked up at him and said, Yes. Yes, everything is fine. Just fine. And then she smiled - the kind of smile that she reserved only for very special occasions. 

Happy Anniversary, My love.

Morocco: and the henna lady's daughter

She knew others might not approve.  They might give her that look - the kind given to girls who get their ears pierced too young, or who showed too much of their navel, or who smoked as teenagers.  Good girls don't do that sort of thing -- it was trashy.  But at some point, what the neighbors thought had stopped mattering.  It was what she thought that was most important now.

And so she decided to give into a desire and just do it.  A tattoo.  She could have done something discreet -- the lower back, the shoulder blade, the upper hip.  But that's not what she wanted.  You see, she had been born with virtually no eyebrows and it bothered her.  She felt it made her look washed out, wan and ordinary some how.  She wanted, for once, to be noticed.  Eyebrow tattoos might be just the ticket.  She was a bit nervous at first.  But once it was all over, she knew that this was what she was meant to look like.  She felt for the first time......pretty. 

A girl with a curl and other strange stories

There once was a girl with a curl who had to write a slim volume about true things – about torture, disappearances, death, justice and redemption.  It was related to her work, of course.  It was a heavy burden, and the task weighed on her.  Sometimes she felt she could not breathe – that she couldn’t get enough oxygen into her lungs.  Sometimes she couldn’t sleep at night – she tossed and turned with dreams of dark hallways. 

And once that same girl lost the draft of that volume in a mysterious computer crash.  She honestly wondered if she would ever be able to finish it-- or if the universe had other plans for her.

But now that slim volume has been sent packing….off to some smart client people who will try to get some policymakers to listen.  The policymakers never will, of course -- they are busy people, after all.  That slim volume with all its secrets inside will get put away on high shelves in offices here and there and will undoubtedly become forgotten. 

But the girl will know that she did her best.  And more importantly, at least for now, she will know that it is done.  170 pages and 18 months put to rest.

She notices that the air tastes cool and delicious. 

And with that, that same girl offers you this:  some Moroccan beauty.  Because life works out, if you just stick with it.

P.S. Do make sure to visit Patricia Gray's beautiful blog today for a dose of Moroccan design. Patricia's design aesthetic is a personal inspiration to me.  Also do check out Petit Cabinet de Curiosites blog for the most amazing North African-inspired Rubelli fabric.  Stunning.

Morocco: and saying goodbye for a while

Dear Friends,

I have so, so many things still left to tell you.  You can't even imagine.  But I am currently faced with deadlines that are so seemingly insurmountable that I must stop blogging for 7 days.  No choice.  I must be sequestered alone, internetless, internet addict that I am. 

Please, please will you wait for me?  I have these treasures to offer you as a small bribe.

And I promise, when I am back, I will have more tales to tell about....

   

But for the moment, please wish me strength to get through this dark period.  I will still see your comments on my little wireless machine that allows me to get my email. 

I hope, I hope I make it back in one piece.

With love and thanks,

Maryam in Marrakesh 

Morocco: and universal messages

Oh say what you will.  Say it's all hog wash.  That there is no such thing.  Encourage more rationale thinking: Maryam, Don't you think it is just a coincidence?  (I see that jeering look in your eyes.)

But no, my friends, the universe......has its ways.  It sends you messages.  You must just see the signs.  And, they're not always pretty.  Oh, I know too well.  But sometimes, when you really need it, a message arrives special delivery. 

You see, we have just had a rather large and expensive house building mishap/disaster (too painful to relate just yet).  So my very practical response to the children was:  Let us bake cakes!  I am sure that you react similarly in times of crisis. (You know, get right down to problem solving and strategic thinking. )

But our well equipped (cough) house had no flour.  Flour was immediately summoned and look what arrived..........

Taous (Peacock in Arabic) flour - also known as a little message from the universe.  It will all work out in the end, you say?   Yes, thank you dear universe. I know.  But I appreciate the love and the encouragement, nonetheless. 

As for me, off to bake.....the children and I have something with pink icing and sprinkles in mind. 

And as for you, do tell me, what messages you have received from the universe lately.