We were sitting as a group in a restaurant in Marrakesh, travelers from various points in the globe: Canada, the US, England, Scotland, Germany Australia, New Zealand, and our Amazigh (Berber) guide.
Dean, who later planned to travel with Joe in a bike tour along the west coast of Africa for 2 1/2 months, thought he could surreptitiously allow his birthday to pass our notice.
At the end of the meal an enormous cake was delivered to our table by waiters who sang a raucous Happy Birthday, joined by us and all the other guests. Dean, who looks like a rugged, stalwart Harrison Ford, beamed.
A Moroccan family was sitting close by. The female head of the family stood up with her little boy in tow, he could not have been more than 2-3 years old. She was heavily veiled in black, with her face showing. He wants to say happy birthday to you, she said and then his tiny voice piped up as he sang Happy Birthday to you...
It was a wonderful moment. The little boy went back to his table with a piece of birthday cake, Dean stood up and went over the talk to the family, and then the father of that family bought Dean an enormous glass of ale.
Later a sub group of us went up to a rooftop bar that overlooked the city. It has grown up a lot since my last visit, lots of prosperity and development. At the end of the boulevard you could see the Koutoubia mosque, the tallest building in the city, and one that marked the entrance to the Medina, where Jews and Arabs co-existed, as they have done for hundreds of years.
And on the rooftop, much laughter and singing, great music and wonderful new friendships. Dean had another beer.
Dean, who later planned to travel with Joe in a bike tour along the west coast of Africa for 2 1/2 months, thought he could surreptitiously allow his birthday to pass our notice.
At the end of the meal an enormous cake was delivered to our table by waiters who sang a raucous Happy Birthday, joined by us and all the other guests. Dean, who looks like a rugged, stalwart Harrison Ford, beamed.
A Moroccan family was sitting close by. The female head of the family stood up with her little boy in tow, he could not have been more than 2-3 years old. She was heavily veiled in black, with her face showing. He wants to say happy birthday to you, she said and then his tiny voice piped up as he sang Happy Birthday to you...
It was a wonderful moment. The little boy went back to his table with a piece of birthday cake, Dean stood up and went over the talk to the family, and then the father of that family bought Dean an enormous glass of ale.
Later a sub group of us went up to a rooftop bar that overlooked the city. It has grown up a lot since my last visit, lots of prosperity and development. At the end of the boulevard you could see the Koutoubia mosque, the tallest building in the city, and one that marked the entrance to the Medina, where Jews and Arabs co-existed, as they have done for hundreds of years.
And on the rooftop, much laughter and singing, great music and wonderful new friendships. Dean had another beer.