Easy Does It

Things are getting back to normal around here after The Holidays and the DC training and the new puppy.  Last week Max and I resumed our sometime tradition of spreading a blanket across the rocky sand of Ain Diab and watching the sun set on Sunday evenings. A lot of expats are frustrated by Casablanca because it’s too dirty/crowded/hard to drive in/rough/whatever but we have really taken a shine to it. You have this great pulsing city with all manner of people (from even more diverse income brackets) and there are decaying French Art Deco buildings alongside shantytowns alongside ultra modern high rises and French bakeries with 98% butter croissants sidled up to black markets selling burned photoshop disks for the price of a chalupa. Then you drive 20 minutes to the coast and you get this:

Sunday night is when all the families come out and when, much to my surprise; young couples come to nuzzle - away from the eyes of their parents and neighbors. Last week was our first beach adventure with Buckley and we were both shocked and delighted when our tiny pupster chased down a man on the beach who walked a little too close to our blanket. To have an 10 inch guard dog – everyone should be so lucky.

But things can change in an instant around here… the day before our lovely evening we almost drown in swampy sewer water. We drove across town to check out the new Morocco Mall, which is enormous beyond belief and includes such delights as The Gap, H&M, Burger King, and TWO frozen yogurt stands. But on the way(ish) we swung out near Dar Boaza to pick up some non-pesticidal veggies. The roads out by the Dar Boaza coast are not as well constructed as those in the discotequed corniche area and we found this out when it started to pour. I mean rain like you just stepped out of a bathtub. I couldn’t believe it. It’s a good thing really, because Morocco hasn’t gotten a lot of rain this year, but as we chug-a-chug-chugged through the rapidly rising water pooling in the middle of the street we started to get that ah-oh feeling. The water was reddish brown from the dirt on the sides of the road…but also from something else our noses told us.

At one point I jokingly said to Max “what happens if the water gets really high? How deep of water can cars drive through…?”

Just a few minutes later we drove through a particularly deep stretch and looking out the passenger window I could see the water level reaching the door crack and sloshing above. We were very quiet for a few seconds, waiting for the torrent of murky water to breach the door and spill onto the floor mats but we soon arrived at higher ground and were spared. The moral of the story is don’t drive your tiny grey car on crappy roads when it’s raining a big dog. Even if you have to have fresh goat cheese and organic red peppers.