Salam Alekum!
Salam Alekum!
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There is nothing that doesn't exist here.

Imechapishwa: 06.02.2023

05.02.23 Taliouine Today we got to experience what a typical Moroccan market is like. "It's just around the corner," Irmi said when I asked her how long we would be on the road. That should have made me suspicious... After a march of about two hours, we finally saw a few roofs peeking out over the sand dunes. Ralph and Angelika, who was feeling a bit unwell, wanted to save their strength on the way back and take a taxi. But since they couldn't find one, they had to climb onto the back of a small truck.

Well, let's not exaggerate, the market wasn't just around the corner, but the path was manageable for everyone. In the colorful hustle and bustle that awaited us, everything was quickly forgotten anyway. There was nothing here that didn't exist. In search of a shop where I could recharge the data volume of my mobile phone, I soon lost sight of the group. But it didn't matter, because I knew the way back. And quickly I found one of the typical mom-and-pop stores that trade in gigabytes among all the stands with peacock feathers, goat horns, baby chickens, and all the other things that are needed for everyday life here.

I wanted 50 gigabytes for my phone because uploading and sending the photos is very data-intensive. The man didn't speak English. I had to work with gestures. But even that was unsuccessful. Finally, I wrote 50 gigabytes on a piece of paper and put 500 dirhams on the table, the usual 10 dirhams per gigabyte. The man looked at me with wide eyes, took the paper and my money, and disappeared. I remained calm. I stood in front of the cash register and had seen that it was well stocked with the customer in front of me. If the guy didn't come back, I would take the cash register and go to the nearest policeman, that was my plan.

I was quite astonished when the man showed up after five minutes with a policeman in tow, gesticulating wildly, pointing at me, and waving the piece of paper and the banknotes in front of my face. The policeman stood in front of me with a stern look and a proudly puffed-up chest. He scrutinized me and finally said, "What do you want?" I explained to him that I would like to buy 50 gigabytes of data volume. He looked at me. Not a word. Then he handed me a pen and a scrap of paper and gestured for me to write it down. I wrote, "50 Gigabytes for Internet" and pointed to the banknotes. The policeman took the paper and studied it as if I had drawn him a map of the Caribbean islands. He said nothing, looked at the paper, and then back at me. Over and over again. When he then grabbed my arm, I must admit that my knees went a little weak. He pulled me to the counter and said, "Telephone." I fumbled my phone out of my pocket and handed it to him. He said something to the seller, who handed the policeman one of those small strips of paper that somehow get you data volume. The policeman tapped energetically on my phone, finally handed it to me, said "Five Giga," turned around, and walked away. The other man gave me 450 dirhams back and threw me out of his shop. Later, we met a girl in the city who was very kind and helpful and led us to a phone shop. There we got 20 gigabytes - not bad!

In the afternoon, part of our group took a walk into the hinterland and visited an older woman whom Udo and Martin had already met the day before. The woman invited them into her home and proudly showed them around with a smile. The people here live very poorly, and there is a reason for that: saffron production is one of the main sources of income for the people in this province. 150,000 to 200,000 crocus flowers have to grow and be harvested for one kilogram of this precious spice. This requires water. Since 1970, the years with no rain at all have been increasing. On average, only about 300 liters of water per square meter and year fall from the sky. By comparison: In Germany, it rains up to 1,000 liters per square meter and year. Everyone can imagine what that means...

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Moroko
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