0094 My years in Agadir (Mor 005—revisit)
Back in April of 1996
My first memories of Agadir are forever chiseled into my subconscience... Arriving at the bus station at 3 oclock in the morning...hearing the first call to prayer echo through the city at the predawn hours... and then another and another until the whole city was just one symphony of calls to prayer...
Stepping outside to the dusty alleys of Khiam II...heading down to the market past women in traditional Arab, Berber and Saharawi garb... the men in their thick brown robes with pointed hoods... I was immediately bewitched by the enchantment of Morocco.
Ironically, as I'd find out later, most serious explorers of Morocco turn up their nose at Agadir, calling it a beach town with no real culture to it. It's true, Agadir has no old medina to wander through or magnificent Kasbah.
But my Agadir experience was one of the most intense cultural immersions of my lifetime. I didn't come to Agadir for the beach--I arrived in the rather dodgy and very Moroccan neighborhood of Khiam II, where Berber and Saharawi immigrants from the mountains have moved to in search of jobs and a new life. Here, within a matter of hours I found myself welcomed into a close knit group of friends--mainly university with whom I found I had an immediate connection with. They would be the gatekeepers who would introduce me to the complicated, beautiful and sometimes very disturbing facets of Moroccan cultue and thought.
Before Morocco I had lived in Northwest Mexico in a neighborhood of mainly descendants of Yoreme Indians. I'd tried to learn the language and learn about the culture but found it generally extremely difficult to get people to talk honestly about their real feelings, thoughts and beliefs. First of all, in their culture, they avoid at any cost saying anything that might offend. And secondly, they generally don't talk much about their beliefs and ideas--at least not with outsiders. I'd felt like I'd learned a lot and made some inroads into their world, but it had always been a tedious uphill battle.
Now, it felt like a glass of cold water in the desert to be surrounded with people who were totally eager to tell me almost everything about their culture, beliefs and traditions--and also very interested in hearing about my experiences and my views. I later would learn that this is a common trait throughout Morocco--Moroccans are very curious and fascinated by other cultures. I think much of this is due to Morocco's position at the crossroads of three Mega-cultures: Europe, Subsaharan Africa, and the Middle East... They want to learn about and discover everything.
I'd had the misguided idea that folks in this part of the world would hate me for being an American--but instead I felt a much warmer reception than I'd felt in any other part of the world...
And so the days flew by... Every day there was something new to discover... Whether it was an engrossing discussion there by the lightpole with the college students... or a visit to a nearby neighborhood or town... or having the chance to see the inside of a Moroccan home... or getting to know all the different Moroccan subcultures: the working class folks, the hustlers, the well educated, the rich, the poor... It all felt like one never ending adventure.
And so the adventure continued on... What had originally been planned as a 3 month trip, stretched on to 3 years... I rented myself a room in the nearby town of Ben Sergao with a much more "traditional Morocco" feel... But I always kept in touch with those fellows in Khiam who first welcomed me to their country...
Visits to Agadir over the Years...
In January of 1999 I finally bid farewell to the city and country that had become home to me... In fact, it was the only place where I'd really felt at home... where I'd felt I could just go on living there for the rest of my life--and it would always be an adventure...
But now I felt I needed to expand my horizons a bit and see what else the world might have for me. So from Morocco I headed back to Spain, then the USA then Mexico... then I drifted down to Venezuela, around the world to India... then lived six months in Hollywood... But nowhere really gave me that feeling of "home" that I'd gotten in Agadir...
So one day, on an impulse I bought a one way ticket back across the ocean... I wasn't quite sure where I was going (I started out in Spain)... but within a few month Agadir had pulled me back once again...
This time I stayed only for 4 months. A lot had changed in my life since my previous stay, and I still had a lot more wandering to do... So, once again, I packed my bags and left...
And another 8 long years would go by, still with no place that I could honestly call "home"...
Back to the present
And that brings me to the present day... technically my "home" is in Central Pennsylvania, but I've never felt that it's my home--it's just the place where I'm camped out until I can get my thoughts together and set out in search of that "home" feeling again.
And, what do you know, that search has begun and it's brought me right back here to Morocco...
I'm very seriously considering making this country my home once again. But not necessarily Agadir again--I'm checking out opportunities all over the country.
Now most of my old friends have moved on--some have traveled overseas... others have married and moved out of town... a couple have passed away...
And for some reason, Agadir feels just way too calm for me... I feel that at this point, I need a city with a bit more going on... Like Casablanca or Tanger. Maybe I need a city where I feel there's something yet for me to be discovered. I know every neighborhood here by heart...
So my feelings are a bit mixed this time. I still must say Agadir has the best street food in the world... fruit juices... omelette with olive oil, cheese and tomatoes... heart sandwiches... And I enjoy visiting my old haunts...
But maybe that's all Agadir will be from now on... A place to come back and remember some of the best experiences of my life...
