the mess in meknes

rachel

there is a reason why when acts of kindness occur, people say 'and now my faith in humanity is restored'. the future of humanity lies in compassion. and normal levels of serotonin. i think. 

rachel and i were to catch a bus from meknes to chefchaouen in the morning. it was only 10 am but the heat of the sun meant any enclosed space was a sauna in the making. we hopped on the bus and as we waited, i suddenly felt pain throughout my arms and legs. i had never experienced such intense pain (that didn't involve a large piece of iron, gravity, and my skull). it began out of nowhere... my muscles felt like they were being put through a mincer, i started imagining what a moroccan hospital stay would be like.

while praying and trying to manifest myself out of this pain, the light suddenly started vignetting white, and i knew exactly where this was headed. the bus was still humming its engine, and the heat in the bus was rising. i turned to rachel, and explained to her my vision was blurring and that any moment now, i was going to lose consciousness. i told her not to worry, i was simply going to faint and be unresponsive for 10-15 minutes. she could squeeze my hand or put my legs above my body. 

she asked if we should go to the hospital and i said no (translation: who gets travel insurance anymore?). 

then slowly everything became white until it was black. 

i woke up to the flutter of rachel fanning paper. i felt extremely weak and could barely open my eyes. i told her i needed to throw up, and used all my might to stand up and inch towards the front of the bus. 

the bus was still idling with its engine on. some people on the bus must have known i fainted, because when i got off, someone mentioned i needed to find a bathroom and this tiny man who has been trying to earn a few tips putting luggages away for the travellers took me by the hand and guided me to the bathroom hundreds of metres away. not dissimilar to a pitch black, stone cold, 1m x 1m dungeon, i proceeded to throw up my breakfast. 

when i left the cubicle a lady came out of nowhere and started screaming while yanking my dress. please, this is yohji yamamoto, i whisper. kidding. i tried to move away but she wouldn't budge. the man has been waiting for me a few metres away from the bathroom and comes over, he tells the lady to leave me alone but she continues screaming. he quickly reaches into his pocket and gives her five dirhams. she tugs on me even harder and shouts even louder. he sighs and gives her another 20 dirhams and pulls me away before she can grab my dress again.

as he guides me back, i think about how i have to give him something when i get back on the bus. i must thank him. return the money and effort. he pushes me up onto the bus as it starts to taxi away from the station. i am tired, emotional, delirious, in pain, sick, and with the bus moving away before i can grab anything for him, i feel the regret of not being able to repay him start to build.

i drift in and out of consciousness for the duration of the 5 or 6 hour bus trip. rachel checks on me every now and then.

when my mind clears a few days later, i think what i had was food poisoning. the discomfort of which lasted for ten days. the effects of the stranger's kindness lasted longer, but the fact that he paid for my inconvenience and i never got to return it haunts me to this day. 

yes, all my nightmares are about socio-economic inequality, and being kidnapped. mostly the former.