I am listening to direct line 2 by dean blunt. It is a great song. He always used to put out of key instruments over his samples. They never sounded very good but it was nice that he did that. I am sitting in my dorm in prague. I will be leaving soon. Just a few days over a month and i will be gone. But right now i have decided it would be a good time to talk about my time in Morocco, as it appears i have not done so. When i was in the woods in minnesota i wrote every night in my diary. And after that too, there was a time period i wrote often. When i first came to prague even, but unfortunately that did not last. I should have during my time in morocco, but well… i suppose that did not happen.

I arrived in casablanca. First at the airport of course and then by train into the city. Once i had stepped off of the plane i felt uneasy. I cant pin point the exact reason, but perhaps seeing all the muslims had something to do with it. I have nothing against muslims. I dont think they are bad people and based on my trip, quite the contrary. But i cant help myself if i felt a certain way. But arriving into the city was quite surreal to me. Perhaps the european mind would not think anything about it, perhaps not the Moroccan either. Perhaps both do. But it felt like a decayed and weathered… well i dont know how to finish that description, perhaps a decayed and weathered empire, but it certainly wasnt that. there was no empire of casablanca. but there was a granduer that i felt and could see. but under many layers. Still, it was quite romantic. I mean, unlike in tangier or fez where one would be most capitvated by the old casbah, casablanca was the opposite. To me, what stood out the most was not the old center built milenia ago but the majority of the city, built just 200 or so years ago. It was very special. As with europe, they certainly have these buildings. Ones from all the different eras from medievel times up until present. Casablanca had all of this. But with sucha  distinct character. All of these different architecural eras and movements, but built precisely for casablanca in the character of morocco. And stacked on top of eacthoer. As i said, decayed. It was really quite an image. And the energy of the city too was like nothing i had ever seen. So chaotic. But real chaos. It was nothing like the chaos of new york which at this time, well it doesnt feel like true chaos… I wish i could explain it better. I will put pictures. But i loved walking through all the streets seeing the different buildings and how everything was truly being used. There were several cafes on all the streets, filled with old men congregating to watch the futbol games, smoking cigarettes, drinking coffee, greeting with hugs and kisses, it was indeed a wonderful thing to see. It truly felt as if the city was alive. There was no facade. It was just people working and then pleasure.

This was a place that i wish i could have lived. I suppose i could. I would have to learn either french or arabic. And the ocean, of course that is all that is needed to survive. I met a nice man who showed me around the city. But there is no need to speak of that.