youth hostel madness

Youth hostels in Morocco are dirty and disgusting places. The bedsheets are sort of dirty and damp, the rooms are huge, drafty and noisy. Breakfasts are simple and one need not even try to ask for more coffee, because you won't get any.

That said, I plan to continue to make use of these dungeons and their lumpy beds, because in many ways they have provided me with great luck in my travels.

Last night after wandering around the ancienne ville for a few hours, I returned to the hostel, tired and dehydrated, and ready to read, write, munch on some figs and almonds and go to sleep. I have done a good job of sleeping here, but I am still somewhat jetlagged and I was looking forward to a quiet, early and anonymous night.

Nonetheless, plans are easy to make and hard to keep anywhere in the world, and much harder indeed outside of the Western World. As fate would have it, I returned to the hostel to find a group of young guys playing guitar, drums and some sort of guitar-ud mix. --The ud, i believe, is merely a Moroccan lute--

I was invited to join them, and so I retrieved my guitar and offered it into the mix. I was soon asked to play, and I obliged. Their response was beautiful--they played along and sang and hit the drums and would not let me stop playing...as each song finished, they requested another...

I was soon invited to go along with three or four of them to some sort of theatre...I really didn't know what the hell was going on, but they were locals and friends of the hostel employees and so I jumped at the opportunity.

We ended up at some sort of youth center or something, a big building that they used for meetings of their Music and Theatre Club. We joined up with some others--women included, which surprised me--and I was again handed the guitar and asked to play. Soon enough, an older man entered the room--he was about 45 or so, but quite wrinkled, with a big old mustache and a very serious face. He quickly demanded silence and proceeded to lecture everyone in Arabic. I obviously had no idea what he was talking about, and I still have no idea...

After an hour or so at this place, we began to leave, and stopped outside to say goodbye. At this point, one of the girls turned to me and shook my hand, saying

--It is very nice to meet you. Do you know that Mustafa--the older man--has said that you are a very gran personage? Do you know why?
--No, I replied
--Because you sing with your heart and much soul

Mustafa nodded and I became embarrased and surprised that this serious looking Muslim guy would see fit to compliment me so freely, especially as I had been singing songs that were certainly not in the vein of Muslim thinking and practice...

Having finally said my goodbyes to all, I went home with plans to meet up in the morning and walk around the city, which I have done...I've also met a German girl --this morning -- with whom I've found a hotel room {the hostel is full and I don't think that I can take another night with shitty sleep due to the noise of a bunch of hooligan, homey rapper wannabe Moroccan highschool students} and with whom I'll probably head south tomorrow or the day after...The Sahara awaits me, camels and sand dunes included.

For now, I'm off to meet up with Mekhless and Simon, my new Moroccan pals, for a walk around town or something...

I hope that all are well.