One Wild and Precious Life

Daylight Savings Time just began in Morocco. It goes from March 27 through May 8. We start by setting the hour back and then ahead at the end, the opposite of the U.S. strategy. At first, I was confused, but then I realized that it covers the period of Ramadan, which will begin around April 2 and last until May 2 this year, depending on whether the moon cycle predictions are correct. This brings the day to a close a little earlier so that people don't have to wait until 8 or 9pm to break their fast with their Iftar meal. That makes perfect sense to me now that I put two plus two together. My neighborhood is a collection of people and vehicles and street scenes. I begin the day with a cup of coffee on my terrace and watch the scenes unfold. From my perch, I see the signs for the local school and for the Royal Opera. The first people out are cleaning the sidewalks in front of their businesses. The street sweepers come along, and so do the farmers with their horse-drawn carts going to

My landlord is French. I do not speak French, and he has very little English or even Arabic, but we somehow get by. I did not take French in school. Yet, I recently had a meal at the neighborhood seafood place, El Snack Bahriya, in which I ordered in French and conversed in French with the waiter. I don't understand how that is possible, but there is no denying that it happened. I am in a one-bedroom apartment with a lovely sitting area and small kitchen on Avenue Hassan II in Marrakech. I can sit on the terrace if I like and watch the little yellow taxis, the tiny European cars, the Mercedes SUVs, the motorbikes, and the bicyclists go by, as well as the occasional horse-drawn carriage with tourists out for a ride. I am not a tourist. There is Farouk café next door and Clay Oven, an Indian restaurant, across the street, teasing me with its enticing scents and higher prices, but I can still get a full dinner there for under $20. A small pizza at the café, though, is only $2.50, and