In the firelight, the cobra is casting the flame a winsome smile
Just an entry from my Moroccan travel journal...
I met two men in a bar with P. They couldn’t speak English and I couldn’t speak Arabic, but one could speak some Spanish so we spoke a mixture of the languages, interchanging. I enjoyed it very much.
The boy who spoke Spanish was fixated on my hat and cowboys. He kept trying to ask my something but couldn’t figure out how. He said, “I am filled with this energy....buzz!!!” He made a motion like a beating heart. “I have so much energy. I have...” He looked away trying to find the words and whispered. “I am so sad.” Then he switched to Spanish. “Quiero...quiero buen...tu nombre...”
“Mi nombre es Liz.”
“Liz?”
“Si.” He lit up and grinned and jiggled a bit, gyrating and dancing around the bar stools.
“Finalmente!” Then he asked took my hat and asked me to dance.
I met two men in a bar with P. They couldn’t speak English and I couldn’t speak Arabic, but one could speak some Spanish so we spoke a mixture of the languages, interchanging. I enjoyed it very much.
The boy who spoke Spanish was fixated on my hat and cowboys. He kept trying to ask my something but couldn’t figure out how. He said, “I am filled with this energy....buzz!!!” He made a motion like a beating heart. “I have so much energy. I have...” He looked away trying to find the words and whispered. “I am so sad.” Then he switched to Spanish. “Quiero...quiero buen...tu nombre...”
“Mi nombre es Liz.”
“Liz?”
“Si.” He lit up and grinned and jiggled a bit, gyrating and dancing around the bar stools.
“Finalmente!” Then he asked took my hat and asked me to dance.