Closing Time

Morocco follows the French model of long August vacations. Most of the Europeans here head north to Europe to avoid the worst summer heat, closing shops, maison d’hotes and restaurants as they go. In turn, the large community of Moroccan expats living in Europe returns home. Huge numbers of them drive and take the ferry across the straights of Gibraltar, so the streets are clogged with fancy cars sporting European Union license plates. The taxi drivers can’t stand it, as it takes so much longer to get anywhere. We get the sense that in their fancy cars, these prodigal sons of Morocco are showing off a bit to their old friends and families.



In other news, we closed on the house yesterday. We were surprised when our daily call to Omar at the bank yielded a bored, “Yes, the money is here.” A quick call to the notary followed and the next day, we headed in to sign papers with the Botox King of Morocco. We all sat around in a circle: the notaire and his assistant, Hamoud, the seller, and the two realtors as the two of us listened to the translator read the repetitive contract in English. It all went smoothly and quickly as we handed over checks and received plans and papers in return. We’ve heard so much about traditions here that we tell our seller it’s a tradition in America to take pictures with the buyer and seller of a house. When everyone hears the word tradition, they stand and clear the way for the photo op.

As we tumbled out of the office, the seller again invited us to visit him in Casablanca, and was pleased to hear we’ve begun work on the house. “Vous avez gagné du temps,” he tells us. Indeed, we began work twelve days before closing, and a lot has changed. Here are some highlights.

Here’s the courtyard when we bought it.



By now, the doors downstairs have all been stripped away. A window in the living room has been replaced with a second arched doorway (hidden behind the wooden planks.) We’ve opened two windows in a second floor bedroom on either side of the original one. Two windows on the balcony have been replaced with large arches at left. All the walls have been stripped down to the brick and then stuccoed anew. All the plumbing and electrical systems have been ripped out and are being replaced. The courtyard is now wired for light and sound.

Here’s the hallway on the second floor when we bought it. At the far end you can see the extremely steep staircase to a two-feet-square porthole to the terrace.





Well, now the stairs are gone and a part of the ceiling ripped out as well. Soon, a new staircase will rise to a terrace. Again, you see the windows on the left have been replaced with large arches and the floor has been ripped up for wiring, drainage and rebar reinforcement. Not pictured is the addition of two full baths, extensive work on the terrace, a new kitchen and various other improvements, or maquillage, “make-up,” as we keep reminding ourselves to say. This is just the tip of the proverbial iceberg, and there’s a lot more to come.

It’s a good thing we Americans aren’t accustomed to a month-long holiday in August, so while the rest of the expats have closed shop and headed home, we’re bound and determined to keep this precarious project on track.