How it all started
How it all began
The desert in Morocco has called to me for so long. I didn't know that this longing already contained everything: who I am, what I have to do, and what it's like to come home within myself. It's about taking the risk, daring to take the first step without knowing the next one.
The desert loves me and I love it
The time had come at the end of October 2016. I got on the plane and traveled with a yoga group to Morocco in the highest dunes from Erg Chebbi to Merzouga. After the arrival, the friendly welcome and a late bedtime, I woke up, just a few hours after the tedious sleep and was wide awake. As carefully as a treasure chest, I opened the curtains. It was like the curtain was opening into another life. The desert itself gave me the key in my heart. It was love at first sight. I was amazed at the beauty of the large and golden dunes, the mighty palm trees, the air, the fragrance, the sound of the desert. I took my shawl, sneaked through the hotel I didn't know. No sound was heard and no one was seen. The door to the terrace with a direct view of the desert was wide open. I started the deepest meditation of my life. I felt hot even though it was chilly. I was speechless, even though a thousand words were forming. I was empty, although my soul filled with every heartbeat. The tears ran inexorably and something in me sank into the deepest peace.
The Berbers
That morning the Berbers came back from the desert with their camels some distance away. I heard their voices, their language and it was so familiar to me. It was as intense and attractive to me as if I could go to them, take care of the camels, unsaddle them, provide them with water and food. As if I could just sit by the fire by the men, have breakfast with them and talk over a sip of hot tea. It was not yet ready.
But before I started my trip I wanted to know: What if I want to stay longer? I was told no problem, so I only booked the outbound flight! After a few days in the desert camp, the group rode back to the hotel with the camels. I stayed.
I stayed full of confidence in a country I didn't know, with men I didn't know in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the Morocco desert. My dream came true. The three men were Berbers. They looked after the camp and us two women. Me and Sara, who decided on the spot to stay too. Tamazirt. They taught us the language: Affa for fire, Ayur for the moon, Arum for bread. Alrum for camel. What amused her the most was how we dined from our own plates with a knife and fork. With them the bread was cutlery, and they ate together from a large bowl that stood in the middle of the table.
Grandfather's legacy
Grandfather lived here, he said. I sat down on the ground within the remaining four roofless walls. It became a silent prayer. I felt my grandfather's spirit, as if he were speaking to me: Here you are at last. I built my legacy to you with my own hands—from what I had and from what Allah gave me. You will bring it back to life. You will make it a place where singing, dancing, and joy are shared. Everyone should be welcome and continue their journey with a full heart.
