I haven't yet received the promised photos. We're still waiting. In the meantime, Tarik and I took a trip to Montreal and spent some time with his maternal aunt who just lost her mother. She filled in some of the details that we've been trying to put together. Apparently, after Bahajj was left at the top of the hill he sensed that something was wrong and made his way down to the house. At this point the flood was relatively small and something they all had handled before. He tried to get inside the house, but the door was blocked by the water. Once he went to high ground to get help, the massive rush of water came through. I suppose we are lucky to not have lost him too. But, I hate to thinking of what must have going through his heart when this was happening.
Now Bahajj is with family. I've been told that his quite depressed. He has lost everything that he's been working on in the last 30 years, including his wife. I, personally, am not sure how a man picks up and starts over at his age. He is a wonderful person and I will do what I can to help him.
The severity of this is all so immediate and therefore is quite powerful for us. However, this is apparently very common thing in Morocco at this time of year. Tangier just experienced a massive flood. I don't know if anybody died, but the Moroccan news stations are full of people wading through the streets. Morocco just doesn't have the infrastructure to deal with it and with climate change, the floods are getting stronger and more deadly. The streets don't drain and the dams are not sufficient. It is hard to be here with no way of helping.
Tarik's aunt Aisha is here in Canada by herself. She has no family nearby and is trying to make some money to send home to her four kids in Spain. I told her she should come home with us so that at least she could be with family through this mourning period, but currently it is not feasible. Please keep her in your prayers. This is of course a very hard time.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Photos
Well, we got our first selection of pictures today. We've been promised more by the end of the weekend. We might even get a video. I'm also waiting to hear about the condition of the rest of the village.
I'm posting one of the pictures we took two summers ago as a comparison. It appears that packed dirt houses aren't intended to withstand floods.
I'm posting one of the pictures we took two summers ago as a comparison. It appears that packed dirt houses aren't intended to withstand floods.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
A truly magical place
I, maybe not so coincidentally, fell in love with this place the same day I decided to marry my husband. The village is tucked away in the hills with nothing but a lousy dirt road leading up to it. Tariks grandparents had only a mule, also known as their 4 by 4, which they would ride up the river bed to get to the larger of the small villages. The house was in a river valley and built into the banks out of packed dirt. We call Tariks grandfather Bahajj and his grandmother we called Lalla Mamma. Bahajj built the house himself including the driveway that's dug out of the mountain. It had no electricity. The water they used would come straight from the stream that was rerouted to run through the house. Lalla Mamma would make dinner squatting over a camping stove in her unlit kitchen. Everything they ate was immediately fresh, therefore required no refrigeration.
The first time I visited this shangri-la was during the summer when the place was littered with cousins who paraded me around, feeding me fruit, introducing me to their pet porcupines and playing soccer in the dried out part of the river bed. The grapes were in season and Bahajj kept handing me bunches of grapes. I ate so many, I was sick by the time I got home. But I'll never forget the tunnel the grapevines made leading up to the court yard where we played with the cousins and drank tea. It was truly a magical place - one that I've cited several times as my favorite house in the world. I've never seen a place more organic and more serene. It was not ostentatious or over-kept. It had virtually no furniture and the steps leading up to the second floor were carved out of the ground. It was simply a glorious symbol of survival built by a man who lived through the battle of Dien Bien Phu by hiding under a corpse and pretending he was dead for 11 days.
That special day ended with a handful of cousins piling into the car, making the winding journey back to Tariks mothers house. Several of the cousins sat on my lap and once someone started singing, the chorus erupted and they sang traditional Moroccan songs all the way back home. It was in that moment that I decided this was a life I could see myself apart of.
The first time I visited this shangri-la was during the summer when the place was littered with cousins who paraded me around, feeding me fruit, introducing me to their pet porcupines and playing soccer in the dried out part of the river bed. The grapes were in season and Bahajj kept handing me bunches of grapes. I ate so many, I was sick by the time I got home. But I'll never forget the tunnel the grapevines made leading up to the court yard where we played with the cousins and drank tea. It was truly a magical place - one that I've cited several times as my favorite house in the world. I've never seen a place more organic and more serene. It was not ostentatious or over-kept. It had virtually no furniture and the steps leading up to the second floor were carved out of the ground. It was simply a glorious symbol of survival built by a man who lived through the battle of Dien Bien Phu by hiding under a corpse and pretending he was dead for 11 days.
That special day ended with a handful of cousins piling into the car, making the winding journey back to Tariks mothers house. Several of the cousins sat on my lap and once someone started singing, the chorus erupted and they sang traditional Moroccan songs all the way back home. It was in that moment that I decided this was a life I could see myself apart of.
Flood in Morocco
As many as you already know, tragedy has struck Tariks homeland. There was a flash flood last Thursday and Friday causing many deaths, a tremendous loss of livestock trees, property and houses. Sadly, Tariks grandmother was one of the casualties. She woke her husband and got him to high ground before going back down into the house for reasons of which we are not aware. She never came back and the family found her body inside what was left of the house. They were relieved to find her body in good shape. She was not filled with water and somehow did not have any scratches or signs of trauma. She was in the prayer position which makes me wonder if she spent her last moments praying.
Of course, Tariks family is in great mourning right now. Currently, they are busy handling funeral arrangements in addition the enormous humanitarian issues that have taken place in their back yard. The flood completely destroyed the bridge that they had been using. Several people's homes are under water. Most of the villagers are staying with relatives and neighbors. I suppose his village was relatively lucky, because there was at least one village that was completely washed away. All that's left is desert. I don't know what those people are doing. I've been told that the government is setting up tents in a refugee camp-like fashion. It's hard to get any details other than what Tariks brother tells us. The news doesn't give a lot of information. I will update this blog as information comes in. We will hopefully be getting pictures and details of ways that we can help.
Of course, Tariks family is in great mourning right now. Currently, they are busy handling funeral arrangements in addition the enormous humanitarian issues that have taken place in their back yard. The flood completely destroyed the bridge that they had been using. Several people's homes are under water. Most of the villagers are staying with relatives and neighbors. I suppose his village was relatively lucky, because there was at least one village that was completely washed away. All that's left is desert. I don't know what those people are doing. I've been told that the government is setting up tents in a refugee camp-like fashion. It's hard to get any details other than what Tariks brother tells us. The news doesn't give a lot of information. I will update this blog as information comes in. We will hopefully be getting pictures and details of ways that we can help.
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