Day 7: Amis

NOTE: This is the seventh entry in my “From Main To Morocco” blog series, chronicling my ten-day trip to various cities in the country of Morocco. Click here to read more entries in this series.

Amis is the French word for friends. Today, I hung out with a group of friends that are so close, they’re practically family. It was the highlight of the day, and it will probably be one of the highlights of this entire trip. Sometimes, you just have to go to a bar and sing your heart out.

But first … the recap.

The sun is setting on our time here in Agadir. Tomorrow morning, bright and early, our bus departs for Essaouira. But our last day in this town would not be without its memorable moments.

Agadir Sunset

A view of the sun setting from the entrance to Agadir's boardwalk.

For lunch, we went to a place called Mickey’s (complete with rip-off Mickey Mouse logo and font) for burgers, and they were quite tasty. Once again, I had Moroccan ketchup, which really reminds me more of a thicker version of tomato soup. It’s just not my thing. But the burger was quite good.

After a quick trip to the bus station to reserve our tickets for tomorrow, we went shopping at the Souk Lhed in Agadir. According to Wikipedia’s article on Agadir, Souk Lhed is the largest souk in Morocco, and, honestly, I can believe it. We didn’t spend as much time here as we did in the souks in Marrakech, but, even so, I could tell that the scope was quite a bit larger. It was more organized and slightly less chaotic than the ones we visited on Day 3, but I was told that the “slightly less chaotic” part was due to the date and time of our visit. Normally, it’s even busier than the one that was so overwhelming to me a few days ago.

We looked through the shops and picked up a few things for our loved ones back home. After that, we visited the vegetable market of Souk Lhed, where fresh fruits and vegetables of the area were on display. It was definitely something to see. And if I had brought my camera with us, I could show it to you. Unfortunately, you’ll have to use your imagination.

[Cut me a break. I only got about four and a half hours of sleep last night, and I had to take a midterm exam this morning for one of my classes back home.]

After a brief rest, we had dinner at the Golden Gates with a big group of Erik’s Peace Corps friends. I say “friends,” but, honestly, they really seem more like family. These people all came together and, generally, the only thing they have in common is that they’re all American, and they’re all in the Peace Corps. But, as one of them put it, “sometimes that’s all you need.” Listening to their stories was both interesting and entertaining, and it really is amazing to hear what some of them have endured while staying at their sites.

But the most entertaining part of our dinner had to be the transvestite prostitute.

As much as I’d love to leave it at that and just let your minds fill in the rest, I can’t. I have to explain. It’s just too ridiculous not to.

Midway through our dinner, two men and a woman (wearing way too much make-up and somewhat revealing nightclub attire) walked in and sat down at a table across the room from ours. I’m not sure who was the first to notice, but pretty soon she was the talk of the table. First, it was the jawline. Then it was the adam’s apple. Once her jacket came off, it was the broad, masculine shoulders. At that point, the entire table pretty much reached the consensus that she was a man. What we couldn’t decide on, however, was whether or not the men who were with him/her knew. It stirred up quite a discussion and more than a few jokes.

Afterwards, we headed to the English Pub one more time, and, as promised, I sang karaoke. I chose “Piano Man” by Billy Joel, but I honestly could have picked just about anything else and gotten the same response. It seems if it isn’t French, Phil Collins, Bryan Adams, or some combination thereof, the Moroccan crowd isn’t all that interested. But Erik’s friends cheered me on, giving my ego a little boost for the rest of the night.

And now, alas, it is time for bed. We’re getting up super early tomorrow (compared to previous days, anyway) to catch the bus to Essaouira. We’re entering the last leg of our journey, dear readers. Wish us the best.


About [rlh]

Ryan L. Haddock is an aspiring writer, emphasis on the "aspiring." He mostly writes short stories, but that is only because he doesn't seem to have the attention span necessary to write a novel. At least, not yet. He is also a husband and a father . . . yet he is still struggling valiantly against the notion that he has to grow up. View all posts by [rlh]

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