April 2008; Our first proof of exactly how strong the house is......oops!

Well we’ve been working on the house a couple of weeks now and sure as night follows day, the cracks are showing...literally!

Just as we finished laying the preparatory plaster, I decided that I’d have a look at a slight bulge that was protruding from the first landing of our staircase. It had always looked suspect, so I brought Abdurahim and said that we’d just have a little look to see how it was. I pulled at a slither of wood and prhughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, the whole bloody lot collapsed. Deep black dust, god knows how many years old, filled the corridor and once we could see, which took some time, we were both covered in black soot and there was a gaping hole where the first floor landing used to be. Umm perhaps Tazi isn’t so sturdy after all.

Well at least we know, and often (but not always) it’s better to know.....

Tazi currently looks like this.

That’s another thing you quickly learn, things are often not what they seem...and here it’s good to have your Moroccan Goggles on, just so you can see things as they are in reality...that is to say, The Moroccan Reality. I must admit I’m slightly miopic in terms of my Moroccan Vision, but I’m trying to refocus. I’m sure things will be brought in to stark contrast soon enough!

Picture of Abderhim Gratting in the courtyard.

After the collapse of the landing, I returned to do the gratting (this is the taking off of the plaster from the walls. It’s another learning thing, added to which was the early realisation that if you buy cheap, you buy twice...as your grandmother would say). I’d bought a load of tools originating from China. Very cheap and seemingly up to the job. But within a matter of hours all had succumbed to Grandma’s proverb and were less than totally useful. There’s something else to learn, if it’s cheap as chips, there’s probably a reason, which isn’t to say that there aren’t bargains to be had, but beware, if something seems too good to be true...it probably is.

Anyway, back to gratting. It’s really quite addictive and there’s something so very satisfying about bashing away at a wall with a hammer and chistle. You get in to a sort of zone and thus I banged and banged away, pulling off pieces of plaster, tugging at loose brick and concrete, putting my all and everything in to it.

It’s a great way to get rid of pent up tension....I didn’t know I had so much, but even when the lads had left, I carried on tearing off the plaster from the corridor. Bang, grat, pull, tug.....Wow what fun. I was totally in to it, pulling off more and more, in a gratting frenzy. Plaster and brick dust covering me and the floor, filling the air, but it wasn’t enough. I needed to get more off. To hack, stab and yank more and more and more......

And then suddenly CRACK, my gratter was stuck in the wall, and when I say in the wall I mean inside the wall. I actually mean through the next door neighbours wall and right in to their house..Oops I’d knocked through and was now staring at a gaping hole not only in our corridor, but also the neighbours kitchen. I wouldn’t mind but so far we’d only had one neighbour that had complained...and of course it was them.

Ouch!

Obviously, my first reaction was to jump out of sight, as if by doing so I could deny all responsibility, despite being caught red handed.

Now at home, this would probably be a disaster. Police could be involved, certainly lawyers and maybe even an exchange of expletives, a throwing of kicks and punches and biff, baff, boff, a shiney black eye.

But here things are obviously different and having left a note..yes I knocked on their door and tried, eventually, to take responsibility for my actions.....(yes, more learning..it’s usually (tho not always) the best thing to do..own up to your mistakes..but when you should and shouldn’t...umm, Fin, that’s real learning and you’ll have to work that out yourself..tho don’t be afraid to ask your old man...especialy if you’ve just written off my latest incarnation of Habiby!!)

Fortune smiled upon me. The neighbours were away and their daughter, a woman called Labia (I smiled!!) told me not to worry, these were old houses and as long as I repaired the damage, no ofence would be taken!!!

Alhumdoolilahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Daddy after a days gratting in the medina. Nice!