Friday, October 15, 2010


The first night that Pigeon and I made camp together, a fellow called out to us in our moderately hidden camping spot.  He asked us where we were from.
“Canada.”  Pigeon told him.
I didn't answer.
“Welcome.”  the man said.  “I was just, wait, here it is.”  He said.  He had left his jacket near our site.  After retrieving it he moved on.

[caption id="attachment_424" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="hidden boat camp site"][/caption]

The next morning he was there again.  Pigeon called over to him and told him to join us as we prepared for our day.
The man was a fisherman named Salim from Morocco.  Pigeon told him about our journey and he seemed pleased to talk to us.  He was happy to agree to help Pigeon around town with some of the things she needed to get done that day and she was happy to have someone who was bilingual to help her.
It seemed strange to me.  I thought he was shady.  I try to be careful about what I tell people about my trip, especially since there's a lot of anti-Jewish acts here in Europe (A swastika was graffitid on a synagogue only a day before I went there to pray.)
Later I got a text message from Pigeon that she had bought his jacket from him.

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