"Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine."...an evening at Rick's Cafe

Aurelia and I at Rick's Cafe...

Amine jamming with the jazz trio...

Trish...

Humphrey Bogart on a continuous loop upstairs on the veranda....

Beautiful Moroccan lamps upstairs...

The trio from above...

Ahh...Casablanca, evocative of the Humphrey Bogart film that put the name of this city in the minds of Americans. Of course, the film was in reality totally shot in Hollywood, and until recently, there had never been a "Rick's Cafe" in the actual city here. But a few years back, a woman who used to work for the American Embassy here returned from the States and with very deep pockets (and subsequent rumors that the place is funded by the CIA to serve as a meeting place for espionage), fixed up a traditional Moroccan building and created a very beautiful, haute restaurant and lounge decked out in beautiful traditional decor-- lamps, tilework, dishes, lighting, etc. I am happy I got a bit dressed up for the first time here--funnily enough, I find out that both the girls and Jess thought I had short hair because I always have it bundled up under a hat a the beach-both for warmth and for the fact that the ocean air and humidity makes my hair out of control!

Trish's husband, Amine, is a musician and has a weekly gig here on Thursday nights as part of a jazz trio and so Trish and I meet Sadek and Aurelia for dinner and music. Most of the plants in the restaurant are from Sadek's nursery and we are warmly greeted by the owner as she knows everyone but me in our party quite well. International cuisine and good wine and chocolate mousse take us through the evening. The owner beseeches Aurelia and Sadek to return with the baby for his or her first dinner out, and offers Aurelia water, tea or castor oil when we are drinking our wine, with a wink. We all enjoy the music from Amine and his fellow artists-- 2 guitars and a drum set--all talented musicians. They are occasionally accompanied by the resident piano player as well. Amine and a friend also have a music shop in the city and the piano player manages it now as Amine is teaching music at the American school. The two-degrees of separation feeling I've been having so far is elevated this evening as the dots continue to connect and overlap. We see another teacher from the American School with her musician boyfriend who plays in another bank with Amine's drummer-we had met the teacher in Dar Bouazza bringing Jess food my first night there. I find out even more about the family of Sadek and Amine and their mothers, sisters and brothers-- quite a legacy in politics, the arts, society, agriculture, and more in Morocco. I joke with the table that I hope once the extended family finds out about me and the homebirth they don't send me out of the country as it seems they would have the connections to do so...but I'm sure they'll love me ; ).

Trish and I head out and I continue to be amazed how the air can be so laden with moisture and yet not rain. The sidewalks are slippery, the car is totally wet, yet no actual drops from the sky. As we start the drive home, the fog gets incredibly thick-- so much so that we literally can't really see ahead of us. I'm praying that all the snail vendors and donkey carts we passed coming into the city have long gone home because we couldn't see them if they were there. Suddenly the fog lifts only to return again a km later. I'm really glad Trish knows the road so well-- she's also never seen it so foggy. We make it home safely though and call the folks who still had to drive back to warn them of the fog, and I wander back to the cottage for the night.