Ku kandziyisiwile: 22.02.2023
22.02.23 Agdz Football is very popular in Morocco, not only since the sensational performances of the 'Lions of the Atlas' at the World Cup in Qatar, where they reached the semi-finals. On our trips, we often see football fields on the roadside. According to our standards, they are actually just places where football is played - a football field in Germany looks different. It starts with the surface: There is no grass here - of course, it would have to be watered for many hours a day during the summer months. There is no water for that. The game is played on stony or coarse sandy surfaces. The goals are made of simple boards without nets. The goal and sideline are usually marked with large stones. Using chalk for that would be a waste. However, this does not diminish the enthusiasm for football. The children and teenagers run, play, head and tackle as if there is nothing more beautiful in this world - and for them, there probably isn't. What a joy!
When visiting the beautiful football field in Agdz - there are even white lines! - I notice how natural and friendly the boys are with each other. In conversations, there is always physical contact. The hand rests on the shoulder of the other, the head is patted, or they simply hold hands. And there is always laughter... Warm, open, uninhibited. I imagine what it would look like in Germany: the images that come to mind seem cold, reserved, and cautious.
It's not much different with the adults. Here, too, there is a great deal of warmth, respect, and cohesion. When my solar system was installed in Tafraout, the man who wanted to refill my gas needed a ladder. He didn't have one, but the solar technician did. They didn't know each other, they came from different places, but of course, the gas man could borrow the ladder. He needed much longer for his work than the solar technician. No problem, the gas man simply picked up his ladder later. That was quickly agreed upon with a friendly pat on the shoulder. How would that work in Germany?
I think of the Moroccan cemeteries. The dead are often buried here only in a linen cloth. Then, a stone, perhaps as big as a boules ball, is placed on the wide field. There are no separate - that is, detached - graves for each individual. Just like in life, they are also united in death. In Germany, everyone gets a grave, at least every family, preferably neatly enclosed with a border, separated. The wealthier the deceased, the larger and more magnificent the grave must be - after all, among the dead, there are important and less important ones. Or unimportant and less unimportant ones. You have to be able to differentiate...
I still remember with joy the brave, refreshing performances of Morocco in Qatar. There was o n e team on the field, where everyone gave everything for each other. The players didn't have to learn that, it's how they grew up, that's what life taught them.
In the next World Cup, my heart beats for Morocco.