Villmarksenter again

After a night party at Maya Mi place I went to bad around three o'clock. My phone rung at eight thirty to tell me that the time has come. I woke up with headache. Smoked one stolen cigarette in the kitchen, brushed my teeth and got out just in time to catch the bus number 42 to Storelva. It was Saturday morning so the streets were deserted and no one in the bus except me. I listened to the tunes from Africa while crossing this north landscape. I was on my way to meet my friends that I left one day in April last year. It had been ten months but at this day i just felt as if the time had never passed, as if I was still living that winter, as if there were no arguments, no straggling about the money, no negative energies. I felt like if I never had been leaving this place. I got off on the last bus stop and still had ten kilometers to pass to get to the Villmark. I began to walk. I paced very calm, only the snow was crunching under my feet. I tried to hitchhike but no one wanted to stop. I saw Stephani passing me by, the girl that works at Villmark. i waved to her but she hasn't spotted me at that time. I walked and walked. I got to the Eidehandel, one shope on the crossroad, bought my favorite chocolate cookies and one energetic bar. In its name is New Energy, and I believe so much in it that always after having one I can feel my strength growing. Then I continued to walk. I saw Silvia and Vidar passing me by in their car. The world started to look so small again, with so many friends on this road. This road that I crossed hundreds of times. Sometimes walking as today, sometimes biking, sometimes skiing and sometimes passing in a car. So I walked and walked. I crossed Hakoya Island, where there is one small wooden love hut. Where I spent beautiful time with so much love. Then I walked and walked, I didn't care about the time, I had no regretting, I had no desires, I had no wishes. i was just walking in the morning freezing cold air. I was just heading to the point where I had to say sorry, I had to apologize for the last time I had been there, I had to feed the dogs and say them how much I love them, I had to get their smell again on my clothes and my body. I had to do all of that to ease my pain, to finish this period of my life. To brake this dream that I have been having for ten months now. This dream that was occurring during that period sequentially every week. This dream where I could have seen me behind the sledges, me feeding the dogs, me waiting for the run the dogs, me chatting to my ex-boss, me talking to my friends, me having a common food with my coworkers. All that dreams when I was waking up I regretted that I had to get up.

And now I was just walking trying to catch some car but without tensioned motivation. But one car stopped. Two guys inside were driving to the parking lot from where they were supposed to start their trip in the mountains. They drove me all the way to Villmark. I thanked them and got off. I was again in this place. From the kitchen window was staring Istvan and Greg. They opened me the doors. I entered this room and felt as if I have never been leaving this place. We haven't seen each other since last April. Nevertheless we just started to talk as if I were only in the city for a night. We talked and talked and talked and talked. Then I went to Tove. I said hello, and that I am back. I apologized her for the last time and explained that now I am better. I think she was glad I said that. She welcomed me with words that I should feel as in my own home. I really did. I thanked her and came back to the kitchen. I met Nadja, I met Merete, some new faces as well. Then I said to Greg that was a time to go into the dogyard to see the dogs. He agreed. We went out. I greeted Tore in Norwegian. One sentence between me and him. Hope he didn't have any objections that I was there again. First we went to see Gregs dogs on the left side on the dog yard and then we just crossed all the lines with dogs to the last one on the right. It took us fifty minutes but I felt as time didn't exist at that moment. I was again there. I recognized so many dogs. Almost all that I knew from the last year. Actually I remembered more dogs names than peoples names that worked last year. There is three hundreds dogs, and last year there were thirty people. Lot of dogs have recognized me. That was so snsitive meeting. Greg was pretty much surprised that I rememberd so many names but I explained him that in my mind I feel that I have never been leaving, maybe that's why. We came back to the kitchen and I met Grant, buena persona de Scotia, and Franck and Stephanie. We had dinner together. I felt so naturally there. I was a part of this family even though I haven't worked there any more. Then it was a feeding time. I wanted to do it so much. Greg said no problem as other people did. It is always nice when there is one person more to help. I got working trousers and boots. Again I felt warmness of this perfect large moon shoes. I went into the dogyard. Except running the dogs and picking up the shit feeding is one of the best things you can do for these animals. I fed of course the Tove side of dogyard. All the dogs that I knew so well. I fed four rows. I worked fast, I wanted to give food to all of them. I could have felt like the dops of sweat are running on my back. I didn't care. I was doing one of the best things in my life. I was feeding the dogs. I heard Tove screaming from the other side of the yard - Jacek!!!! GOOOOODDDDDD!!!! Even if we had argument last year I really like her and I think she feels the same. After I finished the last row I saw that two guys they fed together only two while I did four. I was cheerful and felt the blessing of opportunity I received from life. I came back to the feeding room where we used to prepare food and just started to refill the buckets with dry food for the next day. I knew that the next step in this daily habits is to make teams. Suddenly I felt it is over. Even if they agreed for feeding the dogs I wasn't working there any more. I knew I cannot cross this line. I looked into Gregs eyes and saw in them appreciation that I am back. At the same time it was so contemporary. We knew it is so unique and special. I was watching them disappearing among the dogs building their teams. I loved all that dogs and all that people. I loved that atmosphere of hard work and pleasure of running the dogs. I loved that place even if sometimes they were things I didn't agree with. After that I took off my working shoes and pants. I thanked Tove for being there and proposed her that anytime she needed a person to work I could come and work for free. She said nothing. She greeted me and then I left. On my way back I talked to Grant. I like this guy so much. In his room on his computer he was talking with his woman - Marie. She had been there last season. With this virtual conversation we became united again. My friends. My place. My emotions. My feelings. My thoughts. My past.

I walked down the road with my skies on my shoulder. I was walking down with my heart fully calm. I did what I was dreaming about. I was so cheerful that those people were waiting for me. That they consider me as the part of them. They are my friends and we both knew that.

I got to the road, walked fifty meters and then decided to cross this beautiful landscape on my skies. It was snowing heavily. I was merging with this whiteness, wilderness and my thoughts. I still could have heard the dogs barking as if they wanted to say good bye to me, or it was just my imagination. I paced in this powder snow for an hour. I got to one hill. It was getting late so I put off my skies and prepared to ski down. Before I did it I sit down on the snow in the lotus position, closed my eyes, took few breaths and disappeared in meditation. I saw around me many wolfs, they tried to attack me. I resisted creating invisible barrier of my spirit. They were only illusion. After few minutes I was in a space. Calm. Only noise of wind was disappearing faintly behind my ears. I opened my eyes. I saw the most beautiful blue color of the north. I saw the graphics in front of me draw from the birches. I put my skies on and skied down the hill. It was a perfect day. It was like my dream but real. It was a reality but as if it was a dream. The world was dragging down in the blackness of night and i was ready to come back to my ordinary life.

Completing

One day.

In the loudspeakers pilot announced that the temperature in Oslo was minus fifteen. I was sitting in the plane to North. To the place where i think is my home. But as soon as I saw all Norwegian coming back from Morocco I thought that maybe i belong to that landscape but I never will belong to Norway. I will be hidden in the wind and in the flakes of snow. yes snow. I arrived and now I am just sitting at Oslo airport. I went outside and first what I felt wasn't the cold, I wasn't surprised because of the snow. First thing that completely got me on the knees was the air. So fresh. So unpolluted. So clear. So perfect. I knew I am back even if till the north I still have two thousands kilometers. I know I am back but my mind and behavior is still this Moroccan. If only we could connect those two, the smell of Norway and mentality of Morocco than it would become utopia. I try to speak Norwegian because I understand what the guy is asking me but instead I answer him in mix of French and Arabic. He looks at me confused. I excuse him trying to explain in English that last seven weeks I was using those two completely new for me languages. And now again I am afraid that I will forget all my French which started to be understandable. With Mohamed we were only using French. And now again this Norwegian that I cannot articulate and English that became so bad since last I have been here in the North. Yes in the North not in Europe. Europe is in Poland or in Spain. Here is North and that how it will remain for me. And my mothers language - Polish. Hope it will return easier then all the other that I mentioned. But what I wanted to tell is a story from Morocco that began yesterday evening and probably still continues here. For the first time during my changes of places of habitant I don't feel the gap. That when I am coming here I am loosing what I left in Morocco and I have to start again rebuild all. No, not this time. Today is two o'clock in the morning, Oslo airport. In less then twelve hours I am supposed to meet with Dennise and visit our common friend Laurent. If only the wind will blow into direction of Hakoya I will encounter again ones of my best friends on Hakoya. In the city is waiting Maya Mi and polish gang. I think I can easily say that I am coming back home. but at the same time I left the home in Tetuan with Julia, Berange, Oriane, Ale and other people in the city. And that is actually what I want to write about. From the beginning, linear story, without any exceptions on the secondary anecdotes. But unfortunately all this story is an anecdote. So I begin........

If you have never been to Morocco you just have to close your eyes and imagine the country where to talk to people is like breathing. Where none looks strange at you when you are just starting with him five minutes conversation. If you have been to Belgium it is very similar. That's maybe I like Belgium so much.(I promised without anecdotes and already the first occurred). And you have to imagine constant motion of people, not like in India but still. And with your closed eyes you have to sharpen your ears to hear all those sounds, all those incredible noise that is becoming the song of the city. When you can hear it then open our nose and grab all the difference smells of the street. We enter the fish market, please don't puke, it looks amazing but your eyes are closed so the nose order you o follow farther. Next one are spices. There you can breath briefly but not to deep because then your mind will get dizzy of too much smells that you don't know. When we enter the street of food, then all those two markets become one, the fishes this time smell with the crunchy burned skin, couscous covered with vegetables spread the smell that at once makes you feel hungry. So you are there in this galimatias. Imagine that you are there for seven weeks. You go with me to the bus stop. We buy a ticket and the last time we watch the city. The atmosphere we create is really seldom. I am leaving all good people behind me, all my thoughts, all my experience, all that I learned, is behind me and now I am supposed to take a bus at eight p.m. BUT!!!! The bus is not there. The next one in two hours. I invite you to go with me to visit my house, because sitting two hours on this obscured bus station is not what you shall remember from your last hours in Tetuan. But I forgot to tell you that the same days morning I was just in Chefchauen where I visited Candelaria and Mohamed and Pau. I have to tell you about that place because it is amazing. Now you have to imagine the city, doesn't matter how it looks like. And now if you have an image take a blue pencil and color all the houses in this saturation. And I only have to mention that there is one house where your dreams start to come on the straight line without any curves of unpredictable devils in them. You sleep like new born child without any distortion. So you have to know that I just came back from Chefchauen in the morning and now I was supposed to take a bus to Marrakech. But what to do with those two hours. We take a taxi and we drive straight to home. When Berange encounter me at the doorstep she is shocked. -What the hell are you doing here- she greets me with smile. I answer that I love her so much that I couldn't have left and fuck all this Europe I am staying with them. She laughs and try to get the truth. I continue this play but finally I tell her why we are there. She cannot see you because you are there now, not then. But it is just the matter of construction of the time. But no anecdotes so I will not even begin. So last two hours we spend in completely cheerful atmosphere and then finally take this bus. All night bus. I arrive to Marrakech at seven in the morning and walk directly to get some breakfast. I pay as for gold, but have no energy to argue all the time about this fucking twenty euro cents. But this time I should because in my pocket there is only fifty Dirhams. Next I go to buy two boxes of tea and i am left with fifteen. I still have ten Euros but in polish bank-notes so no one want to exchange me that. Because I believe in Buena Vida – or at least try – and take the things as they come, and because everything is almost closed I just sit close to Jama Elfna in this beautiful morning light, without any tourists and locals around. I just sit under the huge green tree and smoke a cigarette. It looked as if we had an appointment. After two minutes Mohamed Wazazir arrives. He sit close to me and start some kind of conversation. I explain him my trip and that I don't have any money, and that maybe he knows where we can exchange some polish dinero, and that I will not pay him if he follows me because I am as poor as he is. He agree and we go together to one place where maybe I can exchange this polish forty zloty. No chance. Today is Saturday and all is closed. Woman tells me come back tomorrow or after tomorrow. Jasne! Then we go to one place where people are boiling cafe since the morning in the large pot. We are still fifty meters from Jama but for that coffee we pay two dirhams instead of eight. And this one is not actually coffee but some kind of liquid based on coffee with lot lot of strange herbs that make your pinga growing. Why not – aphrodisiac from the early morning. Mohamed explains my story to the all morning coffee people. They are all homeless as he. We share those moments. I am in need, same as them, and they can understand that. Suddenly from that crowd of tourists I became a beggar on Jama Elfna. I still have my juggling balls that I found on the streets of Tetuan so i take them out form my rucksack and start to train. You cannot tell it juggling – it is miles from the art. I just try not to loose all the balls at the same time. After a while convincing myself that i am the best juggler in the world something is working out. But then I see one Spanish woman who looks for me so familiar. I walk to her and ask if maybe U haven't met her in Granada or somewhere there. She answers that she is from Madrid. I explain her why I am juggling and walk away. After five minutes she comes and gives me twenty dirhams. I am so glad. I hug her and thank her for this gift. Later on one shoe cleaner sees what I am doing that i try to collect some money. The SHOECLENER, he comes, buys me tea and give bread. BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE!!!!!!! I LOVE THEM!!!!!!!! AND ALL THOSE WHO WANT TO BUY YOU FOOD WHEN YOU ARE TRAVELLING WITH THEM!!!!!! I LOVE THEM!!!!!!!!!!! (anecdote – I am in norwegian plane. I talked a little to my co-sitter. He says that they took with his wife a taxi from Agadir to Marrakech – 280kilomters. He doesn't ask how do I feel, how is my family, how am I. He doesn't mention anything about himself as well. he just says I took taxi from Agadir to Marrakech. Later on the stuardess asks if we want to eat something. Of course I want but pretend to watch a movie that is screening. The guy is taking two large sandwiches, coffees, coca-cola, my stomach is crying and makes a fucking huge noise just thirty centimeters from this guy ears. - Nothing. No question whether he could buy something for me. A cookie at least. Nothing. More you have less you share.)
So i got this bread from this SHOECLENER that I just finished to eat on Oslo airport :). After we got twenty dirhams from that Spanish girl we could go to eat some cheap lentils with Mohamed. but i first asked him to go to print my ticket on the internet. And when I was checking emails – EUREKA!!!!! - while I travel I always put the coins from the country that I am leaving in one place in my bag. And last one was Spain. AND!!!! HAPINNESS – I found seven Euros. I give two to Mohamed and five exchange for food and cigarettes and bus to the airport. After that we are going to eat. He explains me his story. And now maybe thousands of voices that I was cheated. Maybe but I saw the tears of touched boy in his eyes when I gave him my polar jacket, after he said it is really cold to sleep on the bus stop. I can imagine. I was freezing in the bus and what about the open space on the bus stop. I know I am coming to minus fifteen but what a hell, i just gave him this jacket. And that forty zloty as well with hope that maybe he can exchange it somewhere. The boys eyes shines!!! He is a tough guy who lives on the street, each day he starts with empty stomach drinking this coffee for two dirhams and smoking cigarette. He sleeps on the bus stop. he want to get a job but he was stolen his Id card and now he doesn't have enough money to get back south to Sahara where he lives. And have no choice. And maybe all that was just stake of bullshit telling to the tourist but I don't think so. I was drinking coffee with those poor people and they treated me as one of them. When I shared all I got to share with that boy he wrote immediately his number and his fathers number and the name of his village and he shook my hand with unstable voice telling thank you. For this morning he was my friend. My good friend and I didn't care about tomorrow. He was there I was there, I could help him and I did because I know that tomorrow maybe someone will help me. After that I took bus to the airport. And then this long fly to Norway.
When we got out from the plane and were waiting close to the belt for our luggage's, there were few Moroccan in the crowd. I saw one guy staring at me. i looked into his eyes and felt so strong connection. My heart started to bit faster and in his eyes I saw that he recognized me. Recognized me as a person with the same attitude, with the same mood, with the same pleasure of sharing. And not money, but life, smile, talk and presence. Then he turned back. For a while I thought – What the fuck,did I become Muslim? And what does it mean. That I love people and want to give them love. If so Inshallah :) Habdullah :) I can be a Muslim.

And only the last sentence about Norwegians. They are also good and generous. On this airport I have already found the bottle of Pepsi and cheeps :) They share but different :)

There is a house. Similar to others. Has four walls, doors and rooftop. There is a house where you can find the peace. There are people who know how important you are. There is a house where conversation never end, and laugh is lauding to the end. There is a house where you can feel at home. There is a house.

Because the question why? will remain as long as there will be a single human being living on this world. The easier one is why why? that one you can answer yourself and create the world around you in a way that you want to see it.

Thousands of images.

Reflective realities.

Visions of god and death.

Utopias.

And only one heart to love.

"I don't miss anything. I am just here. People if they want they can find me. But since the last few years no one is visiting me. You are the first man after this girl left. I do not miss her, but I liked her. She was giving so much life to this place. This place was like her. Calm but at the same time very serious. Warm and with lot of birds. But today as you see there are no birds in the sky any more. Even they understood that something is missing here."





"By the end of the day, in the last rays of Sun the old man took his last bath in the Ocean. The young man was sitting on the rocks watching this scene of merging the old wisdom with old Knowledge. The old man was pacing gently on the sand. When he got to the shore he turned back and bow his head in gesture of returning to his previous form. He steeped forward. His knees were already under the water. He could have felt the floating motion of oblivion. He was serene. He knew he will reborn again and again because that was his destiny and his story. The last thought he had before he disappeared in the water was that he will never understand this cycle. And he will never forget this girl. He was rambling on the bottom of the Ocean. It was his favorite part. He started to live as an image that he was admiring for last decades of his life. At the end he transfigured into the red fish and swam away into the darkness of reality."

"" - fragments of "Waiting" written by Jacek Orasinski

Le Roia est moia!!!!

So as I wrote that morning was very intensive. At 1530 I just walked to Instituo Cervantes to meet Julia and have a lunch together. Unfortunatelly the column of cars with king was supposed to drive through so all the road was blocked. I couldnt have passed the street so I just stood close to barriers and waited. The crowd was waiting. Me as well but more for crossing the road then for a king. An old village woman as well didnt seem to be too much interested in this spectacle and told me that she had to wait and she was in a hurry. Even though I havent understood a word, translation in my mind came so naturally. She saw that I tried to cross the road as well and then we just started to laugh. I love this old womens laugh. It is so pure. After ten minutes the car with king approched....... and just stopped five meters from the place were I was standing. The crowd move forward to greet him and me as well as if sharing the collevtive enthusiasm I just run to the barriers and was jumping to shake his hand. He shaked all the hands before me and when mine was next he looked at me and PASSED!!!!!! shaking other hands behind me. Fuck I thought - what a rasist! But feeling of this energical crowd was so astonishing! After this even all the evening I was in super perfect mood!!! The king has arrived and I remained in a crowd.

Le Roia est l'a ville.

Le Roia est l'a ville.


after week of preparations Mohamed VI is going to arrive today at five pm. Now when I write it is 09:23 but the streets are alraedy blocked, secret service pace along looking at the passing crowd, trying to find a mismatched puzzle in all this image and destroy it before the kind arrived. i slept only few hours. I am totally tired and in the mood that I missed so much. Since the morning I talk bullshit, make jokes, telling anegdots, not irritating but kind of the people around me. They laugh taking this behaviour as an omen that maybe Jacek came back, maybe smile will not disappear from my face till the evening and in this cheerful atmosphere we will share the night. Inshallah. BUt before that the KING IS GONA COME!!!!!!! I joked to one seller on the street asking him if the king is already here because I didnt take my morning coffee so why not to tell some rumores about Morocco and Moroccuise with the best one. The king. yes. I feel like in the middle ages. I am just in a crowd. But this crowd today reached its higly level of affirmation and excitement. All city is in tender. Atmosphere is so high even without the drugs. And in my mind thousends of stories and situations appear because of this event. Now I go to the people and observe them and watch their reactions and behaviour. As one guy sang in song TODAY IS GONA BE A GOOD not night but day :) Shallah.