Jim's home is a bed and breakfast establishment called SidsMums located in the southern French village of Preixan. It's one of 30 circular villages in France so named because the buildings are arranged, not surprisingly, in a circle around the center of the town. 
Jim's roommate, Georges, is much more lovable with his bad breath and stringy hair. George is a dog of unknown origins who would love nothing more than to kill himself playing with you, literally. He has a heart condition and can only handle a few minutes at a time.
Georges and I don't even speak the same language, but I know exactly what he's saying. I have no idea what the hell Jim is saying, I just take subtle delight when Georges owner, Jan, mentions that Georges used to regularly chase Jim up into the trees.
Good Georges! Good boy!
Not knowing what animals, and to a greater degree people, are saying has been a common occurance on this trip. It isn't realistic for me to learn the language of every country I visit. On this trip alone I have encountered Gaelic, Welsh, French, Italian, Egyptian Arabic, Spanish, Portuguese, Basque, Castilian and now Moroccan Arabic. I have also dealt with good ole British English which, although understandable, causes the pre-pubescent teen in me to lose control every time I hear the phrase "cockup" used in normal conversation. If I had to learn them all I'd never travel because I would be too busy studying for language exams. I know enough, or so I thought.
* * *
"Pardon?" the doctor said. He obviously didn't understand my perfectly constructed french answer.
"Oui, je me suis fait vacciner contre le tetards!" I said again.
Overwhelmed by the heartbreak at seeing his native language being senselessly slaughtered, by an American no less, he took command.
"Parlais Anglais?" (Do you speak English?)
"Oui" (Yes)
"You have been vaccinated against tadpoles?"
I *KNOW* I said tetanus, or least thought I did. We continued the rest of the exchange in English and I'm reasonably confident that I successfully received a vaccination against yellow fever.Or scarlet.
Famous French politician Charles de Gaulle once said "How can you govern a country which has 246 varieties of cheese?" That's a good question Chuck. Here is another: How can you ever begin to learn a language that arbitrarily attaches gender to nouns?
Don't believe me?
"Grand Canyon" is male
"Rocket" is female
Talk amongst yourselves.
* * *
At this moment I am in Casablanca or Casa as the locals call it. Well, the locals actually call it Dar el Baida which is the literal Arabic name. It's a city modelled after the French city of Marseilles and it has seen explosive growth. The city had only 20,000 people in 1906 and today boasts 3,700,000.
There's not a whole heck of a lot to see here other than the monstrous Mosque Hassan II. It stands beside the sea and it's a great example of what you would get if you asked the architects of the Luxor in Las Vegas to take a crack at building a mosque. It can accomodate 25,000 people and an additional 80,000 in the courtyard. There's a glass floor in it that reveals the ocean below. "God's throne is upon the water" as the Koran says (11:7, if you're curious). Other than the massive size and location everything else is taken upon faith. I am not a Muslim so I can't go inside and take pictures.
Moroccans are one heck of a tolerant people. The Muslim world's only Jewish museum is in Casablanca. The Muslim world's only Arabic Jew politician is a cabinet member of the government. (Here's a site about Jewish Morocco) I got a lift into town from an Arabic woman! Wearing a hijab! How's that for a surprise?
As we passed the Farah hotel she said "You know what happened there?"
"No", I admitted.
"Al Qaeda bombed it while there was a wedding party going on. It was one of four bombings around the city. These people are animals and they give a bad name to Islam and Muslims everywhere".
Praise Allah and Praise Jesus to that. I told her I understood remembering two particular religious nut jobs in the States: Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell. The faster the world is rid of religious extremists the better: "Muslims" and "Christians" both.
* * *
Speaking of diversity and all that koombaya stuff....
The hardest part about beginning this part of the trip was leaving Dechen Choling. The morning of December 12 was cold and frosty and in the van headed to Limoges were ...
me, Jake (American), Mark (Dutch), Magdalena (Polish), Kostanze (German), Geoff (England) and Andrew (American or Canadian. He has dual citizenship).
I spent the last month and a half with these fine folks and several other nameless and international Dechen Choling staff. We became family. The night before departure there was a party given for the departing Mark, Magdelena and me and it was touching to say the least in both thoughtfulness and kindness. No one had a dry eye as we all parted ways at the train station: Mark and Magdalena to Paris and I to Carcassonne.
Now I am alone in a new, very strange and beautiful country and I miss my family, my new one.
Reminders of good and evil have been constant throughout the trip.
Thinking of Pat Robertson, Al Qaeda, Jerry Falwell and Jim the cat all give me a heavy heart when I think of the evil they inflict upon the world. Dechen Choling and it's staff, Georges the dog and the Moroccan people all remind me, best of all, that there is tremendous love in the world too.
It is that spirit of love that I want to send to you this holiday season.
Knowing that this kind of good exists reassures me. It also doesn't hurt that I am vaccinated against at least one primary colored fever and tadpoles.
