Free Gates to Tangier by Mois Benarroch Page A

is alive."
    "Well, I hope we don't run into any problems, someti ­ mes it takes days to talk to someone in Casablanca."
    With impressive speed she called the co ­ usin, who gave her the number for the Benacot family. Silvia spoke to them.
    â€œMrs. Benacot, I don't know if we have met, I am Silvia Benzimra, calling from Tétouan. We're looking for our Fátima, she was called Fátima Elbaz. My father passed away and we have to find her....She was sic ­ k...poor woman...in her hometown....where is her hometown? Do you have her telephone number? W ­ ell, thank you very much I think we should be able to find her.
    "She is in Chefchaouen, a town close to here. “
    â€œChefchaoen is the same as Chaouen, I went there with Papa once,” said Isaque. “A really beautiful place, green mounta ­ ins and in the middle of it there's an enormous café where everyone is drinking tea. There are a lot of bees. There is a lake there, no, a river, it is really cold. But really cold, even in the sum ­ mer, since the water comes from the mountain.”
    "Yes, I read about that. I've read all about Chao ­ uen! Three hundred years ago it was an autonomous Jewish region, Jews with guns and everything, no one could come near it.”
    "We never knew that," said Simi.
    "There are many remote areas in Morocco with those kind of stories. Surely there were Jewish zones, there are so many valleys between the moun ­ tains of Morocco that no one can reach.”
    "She has diabetes," said Silvia. "She left the Benacot because they amputated her right leg and she is almost blind, that was in 1995. Mrs. Benacot said that she had a daughter that came for her, to take her to Chefchaouen.”
    "We'll leave tomorrow."
    "Let's go eat," said Silvia.

✺
    "When will the great eagle appear?”
    "It will come on a white horse."
    "And what is the horse called?"
    "He is called Muhamed."
    "And what is the eagle called?"
    "His name is David."
    "They will fly over the earth in a wooden cloud.
    They will give birth to homes and high mountains and will breathe the same air."
    "And when will they appear?"
    "They are already there."
    "Where?"
    "In a cave where no man has set foot. In the
    c ave that no one has seen.”

Chaouen
    ––––––––
    T he next morning we had breakfast at La Cam ­ pana, a pastry shop where we bought sweets for Saturday and Friday after the Arbit . The place had changed, but it had the same atmosphere. Instead of French pastries there were a lot of baklava, pastries filled with syrup and honey. Pastries we didn't e ­ at. Silvia suggested we eat churros, but we decid ­ ed to leave that for the afternoon, or for the next day.
    "Let's take a taxi right to her," said Fortu. "We should face this as soon as possible."
    We finished our cafe con leche that wasn't that good, and left to look for a taxi.
    After some bargaining we decided on the pric ­ e, and that the taxi driver would wait for us awhile before taking us back. All for 200 dirhams. We didn't talk much on the wa ­ y. The road was full of tre ­ es that seemed as if they hadn't changed since 1974. And in 1974 they hadn't been in great shape.
    Chaouen is a town sitting right in the mou ­ ntains, a few dozen houses, not even one hundred, and in the center there is an enormous teahouse surrounded by trees. There is something that looks like a main street, with some fruit and vegetable stands. We went straight to the cafe and asked about Fátima Elbaz. The owner of the cafe asked one of the waite ­ rs, who didn't know anything about her. We explained that she was a sick wom ­ an that had come from Casablanca.
    "Oh, yes!" said the owner. "Now I know who she is. She is Habiba's daughter."
    "And where does she live?"
    "Don't you want to have a cup of tea before going to see her? She is very sick, so maybe it is better that you rest a bit first."
    "I think it would be better to drink the tea after, this won't take long."
    "Fine. It