Morocco 1969 | Mort Laitner
We stopped for a coffee and a cigarette in a Spanish train station’s cafeteria. As we sipped and puffed, an American hippie dressed in an Arab gown lumbered by us.
”Hey dude, you from the States?” Neal inquired.
“Yeah male, I’m from San Francisco. My name is John. Where by are you fellas from?”
“John, I’m Mort and this is Neal. We’re from from upstate New York. Where did you get that wonderful Arab robe?” I questioned.
John, a traditional American hippie, was tall, blonde, skinny and stoned. The odor of cannabis permeated his body–a odor our noses realized only also nicely. He was dressed in a hooded blue and white Arab gown that swept the station’s cement flooring.
In a person prolonged operate-on sentence, John wowed us with tales of Moroccan days and nights. “Man you received to go, the Moroccans are really awesome people, male dope is real affordable, it’s the finest hash you’ll ever flavor, man food stuff is serious affordable, in Tangiers you will blow your brains out, you will not at any time want to leave the put, it’s considerably-fucking out.”
Then from underneath his robe, he arrived at into his shorts and pulled out a cardboard matchbox.
“Let me clearly show you this shit.” And like a magician holding a deck of cards, John slowly opened the box. Our eyes lit up at the sight of five grams of gentle yellow hash.
Neal nodded his acceptance and I knew our up coming adventure would be in Morocco.
Over the screeching of teach brakes, the John ongoing to give his pitch. “You guys can trade individuals light blue denims you are donning for model new Arab robes. You won’t imagine it. In the Kasbah, cannabis sells for a dollar a gram. An Arab guidebook will escort you to a supplier for a idea of few American bucks.”
His words and phrases sucked us in, like a Woodridge sucker fish falling into our nets.
My mind went into substantial equipment.
Mort, weigh the pros and drawbacks:
What could go incorrect to two Jewish young ones in an Arab nation?
When it arrived to obtaining superior, weren’t there always big challenges and weren’t we threat-takers?
Didn’t John, the hippie, just say how welcoming the Moroccans were being?
Didn’t Morocco have a Jewish community courting back again to the days before the destruction of the Second Temple?
Didn’t Moses Maimonides are living in Morocco?
But I also remembered looking at in my Junior Jewish Encyclopedia that for hundreds of many years Moroccan Jews were pressured to are living in ghettos as next-class citizens.
As constantly, dope received.
We were on the upcoming south-bound educate headed for the southern Spain where we would board a ship that would acquire us to the northern tip of Western Africa.
From the ship’s railing, we waved excellent-bye to Spanish shoreline and the Rock of Gibraltar. Approaching the port of Tangier, we marveled on seeing the city’s minarets. As we disembarked, we had been assaulted by a wave of young Moroccan boys begging to be our city guides. A 13-yr-old child approached me, grabbed my arm and pulled me apart.
“My title is Mohammed Ali. For a single low value, I’ll be your manual to the city. I’ll acquire you to a cleanse lodge.”
I wondered, “Where did he master to talk fluent English?”
He lowered his voice, “Then I’ll just take you to the Kasbah to acquire cannabis?”
I nodded my approval.
Neal having heard the “H” word stated, “Sounds excellent. Let’s go.”
Ali led us into the European Quarter through the Rue De La Kasbah. We walked by a avenue named Louis Pasteur, the French scientist who uncovered pasteurization.
And I pondered, “What would we learn in Morocco?”
Ali stopped at a pastel-white stuccoed fort-styled lodge. “This is a clean up lodge and the rooms are reasonably priced.”
“Okay let us check in,” Neal replied.
“Neal, do you don’t forget finding out the French colonization of Morocco?”
“Yup.”
“I loved individuals French International Legion videos in which they fight the Arab on horseback. This Beau Gest hotel delivers back again reminiscences. All it requirements is a doorman dressed like Gary Cooper or Ronald Colman in that legionnaire’s white kepi with a sash wrapped all-around his waist.”
“Yup, a doorman standing at attention and saluting us as we entered the lodge.” Neal stated.
The Hotel Scheherazade was created in the early forties. It seemed like it arrived off the Casablanca motion picture established. Walking by means of the hotel’s horseshoe-arched portico, we entered the lobby. Its walls and flooring have been covered with glass mosaics and marble panels. The mosaics reflected daylight which brought on my eyes to blink as if I had fallen into a kaleidoscope.
I analyzed the glazed tiles looking for a drawing of Rick and Ilsa and only found sketches of nomads riding camels.
No Bogart, no Bergman, no piano, no Sam and no As Time Goes By.
Neal broke my educate of imagined, “Mort, we received to check out in.”
As I examined the attractive arabesque-patterned rug that hung powering the hotel’s reception desk, the clerk, a slender man putting on a white linen match greeted us, “Welcome to the Scheherazade. Be sure to fill out the lodge registration and I will will need to hold your passports though you are our guests.”
We handed the passports to him, paid for a single night’s remain and were specified a key to our area. We rushed up the stairs as if Ali would abandon us and not tutorial us to the hash supplier. Soon after throwing our knapsacks on the beds, we washed the Saharan dust off of our faces and raced back to the lobby.
Our bar mitzvah-aged guide dressed in Levis whisked us into the Kasbah. We crossed by historical white portals framed in blue and yellow tiles. The dust on the road prompted my eyes and nose to twitch. Going for walks by slender shaded alleys, we bumped into Arab adult men dressed in white caftans.
In the small distance from the resort to the Kasbah, we time-traveled from the Twentieth Century into the Sixteenth.
My nostrils burned with a mixture of tobacco smoke, doggy shit and Middle Eastern grilled meats. As flies landed on its dropping, a person mongrel tied to a put up, bore its rib cage and howled of starvation.
These odors melded collectively underneath a Saharan solar. They crawled although my nostrils, annoying my nose hairs which caused me to regularly sneeze.
“Gesundheit.” Neal claimed.
“Thanks,” I replied, contemplating, “ Yiddish in an Arab capitol not much too dazzling.”
We halted in entrance of a two-tale setting up following listening to Ali say, “We’re right here. Follow me up these ways.”
On the 2nd tale, I focused in on the doorway submit and saw a smudge of brown paint. I imagined a mezuzah experienced when been nailed on the location.
I considered, “Is this an omen?”
We entered a gap-in-the-wall condominium. My pupils expanded upon coming into the dimly-lit residing space.
Underneath an exposed 60 watt light-weight bulb stood a skinny, 20-anything, darkish-skinned Moroccan. Ali introduced us.
“Achmed, these are two Americans from New York. Neal and Mort and they want to acquire some of your most exceptional cannabis.”
Achmed wore a pink Polo shirt, blue Levis and a nice smile.
“Gentleman, welcome to Tangier.”
At this level Ali interrupted, “Guys, I have acquired to go again to the port so please pay me my manual price.”
We thanked Ali, paid out him his charge and watched him fly out the doorway.
Our vendor continued in perfect English. “It is a enjoyment to satisfy equally of you. Remember to have a seat on these pillows. I will be right back.”
As we sat down on the substantial decorative pillows, I examined the three foot high, ornate silver hookah. It rested on the flooring in the middle of the area surrounded by pillows. I examined the Persian carpets mounted on just about every wall.
“Neal seem at each individual of these carpets. They incorporate scenes from the Arabian Nights.”
“Yeah this place is ideal out of A Thousand and One particular Evenings.” Neal replied.
In the corner of the area rested a good picket desk. The table held a 1950’s RCA Victrola report player and the album jacket from Nashville Skyline . The past blended with the current as the Victrola played Dylan’s Lay Woman Lay. Dylan’s voice floated into my ears: Lay lady lay, lay throughout my huge brass mattress.
Up coming to the file participant a little porcelain incense burner burned. 4 lit incense sticks emitted a blue glow and the scent of jasmine. The smoke zigzagged and danced to Dylan’s lyrics.
I whispered to Neal, “This is fucking unbelievable. Are we portion of a Hollywood established or what? We’re listening to Bobby Zimmerman. Last 12 months at this time we ended up making an attempt to satisfy the dude at his Woodstock home.”
Our pupils dilated as the Achmed returned holding two huge sheets of hash. Every single sheet was the dimensions if a Spanish floor tile.
“Wow, that is just one hell of a web site. I have under no circumstances seen this kind of a massive quantity of dope. Each and every sheet would be well worth at the very least a thousand pounds in the States.” Neal whispered.
But prior to the negotiations commenced, Achmed said, “Would you fellas like a taste?”
We each nodded our heads in arrangement. Achmed pinched off a gram of hash and inserted it into the hookah’s bowl.
As he readied the pipe, I examined the a number of-hosed hookah with its ornate brass fixtures and a blue glass vase. With a wood match, Achmed lit the hash. The scent of sulfur strike my nostrils. The match flame despatched a flash across the area.
Putting the hose in my mouth, I took a prolonged deep drag. Right after a couple of seconds I exhaled the sweet-smelling smoke looking at it float towards the ceiling.
Right after a handful of additional hits we were all blasted. Achmed now turned to organization. “How much of this shit do you want to acquire?” he inquired.
Looking Achmed sq. in the eyes, I replied, “We’ll be in Morocco for only a quick time, so we only will need 10 dollars value.”
The room went cold. I viewed his eyes and human body language modify from calm to uptight.
“Are you Jews? You glance like Jews.” He sneered.
Silently, I moved my lips to recite the Shema Yisrael.
Neal uttered the denial, “We’re not Jews, no not us. We’re Christians.”
In my inebriated state, I paused to wonder, “How significantly improved off we had been with Neal’s denial?”
Achmed broke off a hand-sized piece of hash and reported, “Here’s the offer assholes. Both you get this chunk of hash for fifty bucks or I am going to have my Uncle Mohammad to have you arrested. He is the main of the Tangier Law enforcement Department. ”
My bowels constricted, as he continued, “And if you don’t know it, in Moroccan jails the only food stuff you get is from men and women on the outside the house. The jailors present you with only dirty h2o.”
Hearing individuals text pressured my stomach into my throat. My stomach acids burned by way of my esophagus and tears fashioned in my eyes. Now I realized what could transpire to two Jewish young children in an Arab nation. Adrenaline ran through my veins like motion picture goers fleeing a burning theater.
I seemed at Neal and whispered, “You get the dope. I’ll hand him fifty dollars. We both of those sprint out of listed here and run to the resort, nonstop.”
“Let’s do it,” Neal replied.
I paid and we ran out the doorway, down the measures, into the road toward our resort.
Neal caught the hand-measurement piece of hash in his pocket. My capillaries popped as I scanned for Moroccan gendarmes.
In our Scheherazade room, we caught our breathe. Neal blurted out his approach, “Before the cops get below, let’s try to eat some of this stuff and dump the relaxation in the bathroom.”
“I’m with you buddy. Let’s go for it.” I replied.
We each individual broke off a couple of grams, swallowed tough to stay away from choking and washed down the dry clay-like substance with a glass of drinking water. The remainder we flushed down the bathroom.
“I just cannot imagine we just flushed over 40 grams of hash down the bowl.” Neal said.
Hitting the mattress, I peaceful realizing that the incriminating evidence was absent. My blood stress leveled off as the hash begun to massage my brain.
Within an hour the initial hallucinations appeared. The room’s walls crept toward my mattress, slammed into the bed’s corners and then bounced off . I watched in a point out of utter fascination. When I stopped focusing on the partitions, the gray paisley-patterned curtains swam onto the ceiling as if a stream of sperm searched of a solitary egg.
Thrilled and terrorized by this hallucinogenic vacation my brain went into slumber manner, a deep slumber.
Close to 4 A.M., I woke to the ringing of the cell phone. I answered, “Hello. Who is this? What do you want?”
The male voice on the other stop of the line responded in French, “A quelle heure est votre bateau au depart?”
“A trois heures,” I replied—knowing complete well that we would be sailing out of Tangier at eleven o’clock in the morning and not at a few in the afternoon. Acquiring it hard to slide back to snooze, I tossed and turned pondering, “Who referred to as?”
“Was it the law enforcement?”
“Was it Achmed or 1 of his conspirators?”
“Or, was it a hallucination induced by the ingestion of so a great deal hashish?”
I fell back again to sleep for about an hour. Only to be awakened at dawn by the voices of Moroccan cattle sellers bringing their livestock to sector.
My paranoid, drug-induced brain, translated their Arabic cries. “Kill the Jews, Eliminate the Jews!” Hiding and shaking below the sheets, I pictured Arabs holding nooses and knives beneath my hotel window. My concern abated when their voices faded absent.
Even now shivering , I questioned, “How several times and in how many languages had my father heard people phrases?
I cringed at the imagined, “Had he ever actually observed individuals murdered after these phrases ended up screamed?”
That morning in the hotel restaurant, over Turkish espresso and Galois cigarettes, I recounted the entire tale to Neal.
“Mort, very frightening tale. That hash blew me away. I did not listen to the cell phone ring or the cattle dealers chants. I liked how your brain translated Arabic to English, because you do not discuss a phrase of Arabic. But let us engage in it risk-free. I imagine we need to choose a taxi to the port correct now. No sense in using any a lot more possibilities.”
As our ship still left the shores of Tangier, I smiled at our luck and stated, “Thank G-d we built it. Very last evening I pictured us jailed, hung and/or castrated. They ended up not pretty pictures…definitely not Hollywood.”
Neal listened but remained silent for a couple of seconds. I guessed he nonetheless felt the consequences of the hash. Then he bellowed, “Hallelujah, Praise the Lord. I assume I see the Spanish coastline.”
“Neal, when I get off this boat I am heading to kiss the soil of Spain.” And I did.
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As Morocco and Israel normalize ties, I imagined presenting my 1969 Moroccan experience which is taken from a chapter of my e book, “A Hebraic Obsession” (accessible on Amazon https://www.amazon.com/Hebraic-Obsession-Mort-Laitner/dp/0996036903) would be of curiosity to TOI audience.
