Twilight Traffic

The rhythm of the days has changed dramatically. Shops open much later in the morning as people have been up late celebrating during the night. Towards the end of the day, by 5:30 or 6:00, most shops are closing down as people head home to break their fast. As we went out for dinner last night, we made it to the street at 6:40, about 10 minutes after sirens the city over signaled the fast was over. It was a ghost town: shops were closed, and the streets, normally teeming with activity, were silent. We’d been warned about this, but had forgotten, and with twenty minutes till our dinner reservation, our taxi prospects were slim. As we waited in the falling light, a taxi came screaming around the corner and ground to a halt in front of us. The driver, on his way home to dinner, offered to take us where we wanted. But for the eleven Dihram trip, he demanded fifty Dihrams. We sent him on his way; afraid our “principles” might mean a long walk ahead. Would we find another taxi? In moments, we got lucky, and a friendly taxi driver came our way, his house was near our destination. We hopped in and sped across town. With the empty streets the 20-minute cab ride took us just five. Our driver didn’t so much as slow down as we flew through red lights, careened around corners and drove the wrong way down one way streets. We laughed out loud, and the driver told us not to worry; every Moroccan was at home eating harira with family. He dropped us off under a salmon sunset and sped away to a waiting bowl of harira.