In October of 2002 William was offered another job, one far away. The money was good and he would be working for his previous boss, Tom. I peered down at a map because my only reference to this location was a song by Crosby, Stills and Nash.
The job end up taking William to Morocco, Rome and New York City. My television coaching job conveniently finished at summer's end; the show had been sold to a new company and production was moving to Australia. I was relieved to be off it and had enough savings to last for...a little while. I was working on a screenplay and was free to follow William in November. In the pit of my stomach the future of my career nagged at me but I shoved those thoughts aside because...
Would you know we're riding on the Marrakech Express....
If you're a person with a natural facility for north, south, east and west, Marrakech is the place for you. If you're a woman who likes to stroll in neighborhoods, perhaps passing time in an outdoor cafe to study the locals or read a book, Marrakech is a nutty choice.
Even with a king, Morocco is considered the most democratized of Middle Eastern countries. The government, made up of a parliament with 29 different political parties, is helmed by King Mohammed VI. His Highness carries the authority to appoint or dismiss the Prime Minister or to dissolve the legislature if he so decides.
Still...it is a country with a western bent. Satellite dishes perch from many apartment balconies and its citizens walk with cell phones glued to their ears. The predominant religion is Islam of the Sunni variety. There are sprinklings of Jews and some Christians, descendents of French colonialism. Societal dictums frown on the gay and lesbian culture. William and I were careful not to touch or participate in any PDAs but Moroccan men wandered past us, hand in hand like school girls. They kept a good distance from their wives, who lagged behind.
Marrakech is separated into two parts. The walled medina, or old town, a beehive of tiny twisting and turning alleys originally designed to confuse enemy intruders and now confounding directionally-challenged tourists; and the outer city, where modern, palatial hotels awaited guests. The resort neighborhood is only minimally less disorienting than the maze inside the fortressed walls.
William and I were booked into a Sofitel hotel, where the film production had set up its offices. His morning jaunt to work was a mere elevator ride to the first floor. The luxurious hotel, complete with a stunning infinity swimming pool, proved, however, that even a beautifully decorated prison can be a prison nonetheless.
No comments:
Post a Comment