Ask Theo, the gangster cat, why he wants to go to Morocco, and he meow answers that he knows for a fact (how he knows we don't know) that cats are revered in Morocco. Muslims (Morocco is about 99% Muslim) see them as clean animals. The Prophet Muhammad showed them great compassion, and from a religious perspective, they are considered pure and clean. From a practical perspective, the cats protected the libraries and homes from mice and other pests.
I want to go to Morocco for an entirely different reason--inspired by a song. Years ago the rock group Crosby Stills and Nash put out a song called "Marrakech Express." The story goes that Graham Nash visited Marrakech in 1966. He traveled by train and decided to leave his first class compartment to see how the real Moroccans lived. What he saw became the basis of the song--the ducks, and pigs and chickens on the train, charming cobras in the square, striped djellabas. And, of course there's the movie Casablanca with Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman. But that's another story.
Theo insists we talk about the cats first. Street cats are everywhere in Morocco and like most countries that have a warm climate most of the year, these street cats are what the locals call "community cats." They are respected and tolerated and even treated like guests. They are taken care of and fed by the people around them.
You see the street cats in the ancient open air markets, outdoor restaurants, walking along the street . . . ready for a handout, grateful for any left over food. They're even allowed in the mosques.
It wasn't long before Theo and I make it our mission to gather left overs in any empty container we might have--a napkin, a cardboard box--and feed the cats we come across. The locals don't mind, and we feel good.
Some of Theo's friends along the way:
Besides being a place where cats are loved, here's what you need to know about Morocco: It's located in the western region of North Africa and bordered by the Atlantic Ocean and the Mediterranean Sea. It's eight miles south of Spain across the Strait of Gibraltar. Therefore, it is a unique blend of Arab, Berber, African and European traditions--Spanish and French. It has hot dry summers and mild, wet winters. Usually. (Of course, when we're here, there's a major snow storm that shuts the country down.) Roughly 20% of Morocco is the Sahara Desert.
Morocco is a constitutional monarchy. Under the 2011 constitution the King appoints a Head of Government from the political party that comes first in elections. King Mohammed VI of Morocco has 12 official royal palaces scattered across the country. They are kept fully staffed and ready for the King.
One of the palaces is in Rabat. It was built in 1864 over the ruins of an older palace. The complex includes large gardens, interior courtyards (housing the seat of the government), a mosque, guard barracks, and a royal college. Although Moroccans generally approve of the present King, there's grumbling about the need for 12 palaces when the money could be used to benefit the average Moroccan more.
Three members of the royal family are interred in the Mohammad V Mausoleum:
Theo follows us up to the palace and into the mausoleum on the constant lookout for the street cats. He's disappointed that we don't see any cats at the palace or in the mausoleum.
"These places are too grand and ornate," I whisper to him as we walk around inside.
Theo gives me the stink eye.
"Don't blame me. Cats are revered here, but there is a limit."
Theo makes that face that says--you're wrong, Mom.
And then I get it. Theo has come here, all the way to Morocco, not because of the song or the movie, but to see the street cats. Does he want to be a "street cat"? Does he somehow admire their romantic, nomadic existence? Does he want to be a street cat that lives in the royal palace?
Theo, of course, denies it, but I wonder . . .
