This article is about a pretty and bubbly Moroccan Girl, observing her helped me in getting some of my doubts clarified.
What was so special about that Moroccan Girl
Smartly dressed beautiful air-hostess was bubbling with energy. It was eleven pm flight. Her pleasant merriness was conspicuous.
A smile on an air-hostess’ face is a must, however at such odd hours frailties of human bodies start to take precedence, the smiling facade disappears as soon as the eye contact is lost.
Nothing to complain! Every job has its own weird demands and we all are human beings. This was not the case with her, she seemed to be really happy to be on that flight.
That Naughty co-passenger
He was sitting towards the aisle, face filled with mischief, big-teasing eyes and a naughty smile.
My first interaction with him was when he asked me, “Would you care to exchange your window seat with mine?”
“Sorry, I am pretty comfortable here”, slightly perturbed me replied.
Please keep my bag in cabin above
Emergency exit door was on my side. The air-hostess was urging to keep the passage unobstructed. He had a small plastic shopping bag in front of him. Listening to her repeated requests, he pointed to that and demanded her to put that in the box above.
The plane was still on the ground. So it was surprising to see someone requesting for such a favor.
The assertive Moroccan Girl
The hostess was unrelenting. A polite, but a firm reply flew his way, “Sir, you are a gentleman and have strong muscles to put this stuff on the top.”
“Well, taking care of me is your duty, so please put this bag in the box”, demanded the gentleman.
My own upbringings have taught me to argue only up-to a limit and to ignore afterwards.
The girl, however, was not in the mood to let it go. She sat down, looked in the eyes of that person and started to explained him her duties.
“But, you are my hostess. Aren’t you? Taking my care is your duty.”
She stood up realizing the futility of the argument.
“No Sir, I don’t think so. You don’t know my duties”, came the terse reply from the air-hostess without losing her natural charm.
“Come to my house and I will teach you”, may be the complete sentence was only half audible. A typical male-chauvinist! This guy is taking liberties and going beyond the decency level.
Beware, I know Hindi!
“Why should I come to your house?”, asked air-hostess.
He mumbled something almost inaudible and indecipherable
She warned, “Be-aware! I know Hindi.”
Oh no! This guy is an Indian. Why Indian males can’t behave properly. I started to feel ashamed. But, the guy burst in laughter and the conversation between the two started in Arabic. He was amused that she mistook him an Indian. I was relieved. Thank God! He is not a compatriot.
Conversation with that special Lady
The plane is about to land. She has put the seat belts and she is sitting facing me. She started the conversation. “To which country you belong?”
“India”, I proudly replied. However not to lose the opportunity of sharing my admiration for her, I told her that I admired her assertiveness and wished, “May the sunshine smile remains forever on your face”.
Clap! Clap! Clap! The passengers were clapping. It was my turn to get embarrassed. I learnt soon, there was nothing personal about it. The plane had descended safely. It is Moroccon way of celebrating safe landing.
I was curious, to which country the beautiful, smiling confident girl belongs to.
“Morocco”, was the reply.
It was time to say Goodbye! She greeted, “It would be a pleasure to see you again.”
Inshallah!
Its not so often, you meet such effervescent personality with a capacity to sprinkle joie-de-vivre around them.
Footnote: One of the reasons to fly and to take this flight to Morocco was to analyze, would it be a good country to expatriate. Jaishree was concerned about her freedom, in way of dressing, way of living. I got the reply, even if 20-30 percent of Moroccan women are like her, there is no reason to doubt.
Thanks Ms Moroccan Air-hostess.
Praising another girl in front of your wife. You will be caned.
Amazing writing skills.
🙂
Praise from you Saurabh (am I really reading it, I pinched myself again) has taken me to cloud nine.