By Leona Thomas
When Ramadan ends there is a huge celebration that starts with special prayers in the Mosque and then includes eating a lot of food all through the day. Most people also go out with friends and family now that they have more energy!
So in 2017 my Ramadan came to an end and some Moroccan friends took me and the other volunteer out to see the big Mosque down by the sea in Casablanca. The day is called EID and the whole world was out on the town.
We had a lovely time at The Hassan II Mosque and took loads of wonderful photos but eventually it was time to head for home. It was time to find a Petit Taxi (small taxi).
That was when we discovered that everybody else was thinking the same thing. We could see red taxis everywhere. The problem was getting any of them to stop for us!
Luckily we had our friend Aziz.
He puffed himself up tall and proud and went into Moroccan Man mode. He stepped forward and raised his arm, shouting loudly at the red cars passing on the other side of the wide road, “TAXI! TAXI!”
The little red taxis ignored him.
He shouted and he gestured that he wanted them to turn round and come to pick us up.
They continued to ignore him.
We watched as a steady stream of red Petit Taxis drove down the other side of our road. Aziz got annoyed. He kept complaining, “It is so hard to get a taxi...” “TAXI!”
I told him that was the real problem - he shouldn’t say that if he wanted to be able to stop a taxi!
I pointed out, helpfully, that if you think it is difficult to find a taxi and then you keep saying it is difficult to find a taxi... then you cannot be surprised to discover that it is difficult to find a taxi! Allah is listening to your every word!
He humoured me with a nod.
And then when the next red taxi came into view he repeated his Taxi performance.
His energy was getting more and more frustrated. He was in full Moroccan Man mode. And he was getting nowhere fast.
Unfortunately that meant none of us were going anywhere!
We watched taxi after taxi turn round further down the road and a huge crowd of people would stop them before they could come anywhere near us.
Finally I could stand it no more.
The energy coming from Aziz was never going to allow a taxi to come to us. His whole energy was focused on how we didn’t have a taxi and how hard it was to find one.
So I suggested we start walking home.
And I turned to our other Moroccan friend, Simo, and asked if his fancy camera made videos. I suggested we could make videos of each other as we walked home.
This sounded like fun and we began to chatter happily amongst ourselves. We were relaxed again and distracted from any thoughts of Petit Taxis.
So, of course, it happened. It had to now that our resistence was gone...
Before Simo could even get his big fancy camera out of its fancy case, a little red taxi pulled up beside us and the driver asked, “Taxi?”
But in Casablanca the Petit Taxis can only take 3 passengers. So now we just had to decide who would get a ride and who would have to continue walking home...