:or MJS, the virtual travel guide
From Agadir to Dakkar (Google Earth trip to Al Jazeera)
MJS-Property, the virtual Globetrotter
The city behind me, Skyscrapers like mountains, jagged white, pierced by black holes, (these are my windows!), a crescent tail from the sea, orange-golden, thrown over it. Antennae and cesspools! And all the crack blossoms; Morocco, recruited from heaven.
No man's land now spreads before me. And, damn it all, with every kilometer my fear grows: I am on the way from Agadir to Dakar. Loaded argan oil and something small to smuggle. But enough of my water?
It's three thousand kilometers, the next morning, when I penetrate nothing but desert! Western Sahara! Sand, that trickles in brooks over the walls. And between thorns, the survivors of this dry food; sprinkled Azur, a blue stripe of the coast, that drags on, untrodden. Pinned sky above; free for kite flying!
Good, you are alone here!!!
At last! After five days I reach the border with Mauritania. Wait for my papers. This is also my job; negotiate and wait, to let me through. To explain, who I am, the stranger; a Moroccan trucker, sent to Dakkar, Capital of Senegeal, Swap argan oil for mangoes. All right?
At night I lie in a tent on a cot with my eyes open, I still have three liters of water and no reception. So, now you know. Damn no man's land!
And because there is nothing to eat here either, I think a little about Mobilzone, Starbucks and Sofitel, Cartier in the marble gloss of the arcades! The spiced tea, that I drink every morning, in the shady crevice blossom, with my friend Saad. At my place—-
The next day it's not nine, but already forty degrees! Damn it! As it goes on, past gray-ribbed dogs, that shred a carcass, an verrosteten Car-Ruinen, burned out, Tents, applied to dry earth, like papers. Two thousand kilometers are still ahead of me, but with every kilometer my fear grows. I am on the way from Agadir, Morocco, to Dakkar, Africa. Loaded argan oil, against bananas!
They hold me tight in Noukschott. I can't get out of my truck, too high, the risk, that I am being attacked. Can I still turn back now? Overtired, I fall asleep over the wheel. I still have two liters of water. For how many days?
Damn camel drivers! Am I a coward??!
I love the distance and have chosen this profession, because I am a good driver! I understand the road, on her I have my peace. Even though my truck weighs tons, he is also very sensitive. I've had to stop four times, because the Mauritian asphalt hurt the tires of my truck! These are African problems! The Moroccan roads are better. I don't have these problems in Morocco, that exist in Africa. But as soon as I am over the border, I quarrel. Four hundred euros in three weeks! For a bit of bananas!
That I don't laugh.
At last! I am reaching Senegal. Stuck at the limit, three nights and three days. Explain: these papers were given to me at home in Morocco! I cant wait any longer! I have to go on! You just have to let me through! The bloody nomads up there made me wait a week! The border guard gives in, because i'm paying extra.
So life is. Three hundred kilometers to Dakkar. We're getting on a ferry. Cows and people lean against my truck, like on a school trip. The ferry may capsize. Or my truck! From so many bags, Suitcases, Robes and colors. But my tires are resting, main thing!
I have to look too, to get a little rest!
Arrived in Dakkar, achieved my goal, at last. We unload my truck at three o'clock in the morning, mend the cooling containers. The next day we stack the mangoes. Sleep in a bed full of fleas for another eight hours, shower again. Then I leave in time.
Senegal is good. Where people are good to each other, the streets have no holes.
All countries with good roads have good people.
What a well-rehearsed team we are, me and my truck. I roll down the window a little at forty-five degrees. I have conjunctivitis from the wind. When i drive, I feel the weight of my truck, feel, how she drives me in the limbs in my tight cabin.
Two thousand kilometers ahead of me. And with every kilometer this difficulty becomes more difficult. Bloody hell, with every kilometer, that I cover, my fear grows. Why? I do not ask.
So life is! I'm on the way from Dakar to Agadir. I loaded mangoes, couple of guns and couple of bananas.
My truck is such a heavyweight! And yet, who knows it, when I see myself crossing the desert like this, through a zoom, I think; ain't my truck a dragonfly too? With transparent wings, laterally?
I explain in Noudhibou: if you don't let me through now, then my cooling systems fail, then my goods will spoil! And you: Show us real papers!
Those damn camels!
In Al-Dakhla they have blocked the road, why do I not find out. My goods are spoiled! That costs me half my wages! i cry a little. (I never cry otherwise, only in my truck!)
Then I invade the desert, Western Sahara! My eyes are dry again, burn from the light, dancing in bundles in front of my nose, nowhere breaks, Ramparts, from which I hope for blue shadows. Half the wages, I think! Half the wages! And cover hundreds of kilometers, drive hours. Everything is peaceful. Didn't they promise me a little more from somewhere??
I don't live badly, I'm just getting through. And i love my job. I'm not just anyone on the street, i am the king of morocco!
There is not enough time for the toilet. I still half open my pants on the step. Only water thorns, who stretch greedily, finally liquid! A look at the clock: She stopped.
A blue stretch of coastline on the horizon, that drags on, untrodden, not developed by tourism, beautiful like ours. A god forsaken dragon, circling, I have Azur.
So life is! Nothing but problems! Don't want to complain, I want to get home safe now, so with an empty tank, do I have to hurry! Left Dakkar twelve days ago, I've covered two thousand kilometers. Thank God! I do not know, if I'll go through the same thing all over again.
It's still a thousand kilometers to Agadir. But with every kilometer, that I cover, my fear grows, i could civilization, my country, my city, can no longer reach my house!
All around me is drought, just desert, no more limit ?! I haven't loaded anything, nothing more to eat, nothing more to drink. Good, what a life!
I love my country! I love morocco! What more do you want?! The morning is slowly thawing. A fishing boat in the haze, Horns and screams, everything vibrates.
Just zoom in!
Zoom it in on your strange place! And decide for yourself: is that what or is nothing!?
You say, you have everything there; water, Money and free looks. You say, you don't have to work and you can still eat cake every day. You don't have a child and you don't have a husband, are sick and go for a walk in the rain with bare legs, reads books by sociologists and follows me on Al Jazeera, Google Earth!
So that's how you love the distance?!
In schā’a llāh. You do not have to apologize, for who you are. I don't believe in it. I believe in my truck.
So life is.
(28.6.21)