Continuous Learner

We were following Habibi down the long, narrow, labyrinthine streets of an old medina quarter in a town somewhere in Morocco.
Around us, it seemed that the earth had long ago piled up and created the small houses around us. Now that very same earth was reclaiming what was his and calling the buildings down. Slowly but steadily they seem to melt.

He`s name wasn`t Habibi. How could it be? Habibi means “lover”, but it was the only Arab word we knew at the time. So we affectionately gave it to him.

He abruptly stops in front of a wooden door, nods and just like a chameleon, he too blends into the background and dissipates from our sight. He had asked him to take us to a local restaurant.

Inside, a withered old man greets us, seats us, and gives us a one-page laminated greasy menu, all Arab, no pictures.
Blindly, but trustingly we choose a dish. He groans.
Blindly, trustingly but weary we choose a second dish. He groans.
Blindly, trustingly and eager, we choose a third dish. He makes no answer and leaves. I think we just ordered.

The food laid out in front of us played out like a cascade of senses; the fresh, lush green of the onions opposed the ardent, fervid red of pepper while the dry, golden crisp of fried fish sat defiantly next to the slippery film of crude oyster. Steaming tajine pots concealed the clutter of fervent meat balls, while yellowish couscous sat in plain sight. The brimmed surface of dark sauces vibrated whenever touched while the tawny crab sat impassible.
I savored the antagonisms of textures, smells and the anticipation of taste.

While marveling at the vivid canvas before us, we realize that there is no cutlery. I mime a fork, but he groans.

Unforeseen, his wrinkled fingers agilely dive, aiming for my plate. My sanitary, health-cautious, European inner voice bellows of indignation, as I watch him with alarm. Ultimately, I make no sound.
He grabs the crab and with great deftness he strips it and dips it in a viscid buttery lemony sauce.
He eats it and smiles at us: the warmest, most parenting smile I had seen in a long while.

He was in some way mentoring us. He sensed somehow the portentous moment and showed us how to understand and grasp their unnecessarily sophisticated, authentic culture.