I once read a story about a near-sighted writer who, after having been engrossed in his writing for hours, took a break to rest his eyes. He slipped his glasses off and went to the window of his apartment for a breath of fresh air. On the street below, he saw a line of penguins climbing aboard a banana. After retrieving his glasses, he realized it was, in fact, a group of nuns getting onto a school bus. He decided he much preferred the penguins and their banana. The lesson, I suppose, is that things aren’t always what they seem—and sometimes are more enthralling with their mysteries left unanswered.
I had a similar incident while riding in Morocco on a motorcycle trip with a small group of journalists. Now, it’s important to emphasize for anyone who hasn’t had the pleasure, Morocco is a beautifully magical place where mysterious anomalies abound. From the muezzin’s haunting call to prayer to the bustling narrow avenues of the medina and the smell of a thousand different spices wafting in the evening air at open marketplaces, Morocco has charms beyond a western norm.