Ikran

An hour before boarding the train from Fez to Casablanca, I've taken Dramamine, hoping I can fall asleep and not be affected by my motion sickness. Srini and I have a separate compartment. A family of three comes in right before the train departs. Mom, dad and a little girl. Mom greets us in French and I say "bonjour" back.

The movement of the train soon sends me into drowsy lalaland. Between my almost closed eye lids, I sense that someone is staring at me. Indeed, Ikran (later I've learned to be the little girl's name and she is two years old) is leaning comfortably against Srini's leather jacket (bought in the souks of Marrakech) and observing me intensely. She is sucking on her index finger and checking me out without any disguise. The sun comes through the half closed drapes and gives a warm glow to her curls and the white flowery bow mom tied on her before the trip looks almost transparent. She has this curiosity and naiveté written all over her little face.

In the West, the best you can do in this situation is to smile at the kid. I am never too enthusiastic about babies or little children. I find them too feeble to handle and usually keep my distance. I am much more magnetized by cats than kids. But for some odd reason, Ikran's expression totally intrigues me. I snap a photo of this moment and quickly reach for my pocket to find the Starbursts that I always travel with and put my palm in front of her, "Bonbon?" Her eyes light up with such interest in the fact that I am talking to her. She takes her finger out of her mouth and grabs the strawberry flavored candy from my hand. Mom immediately breaks out a wide smile, thanks me in French and then says a bunch of words in Arabic to Ikran, apparently asking the baby to thank me. That is the icebreaker.

During the rest of the trip, this shy little person gets into an entirely different mode. She only speaks Arabic so we communicate via gestures, facial expressions, or Arabic-French-English mix. Regardless of the fact that the Dramamine is making my upper and lower eye lids literally fighting each other, I cannot doze off for a second because Ikran insists on keeping me engaged in all sorts of activities, including drawing her pictures of a zoo full of animals, letting her listen to my Game Boy Tetris music and do her little dance, smooching me on the cheeks and yelling repeatedly "aunt Lei choochoo" while waving her arms, taking pictures of her and her family, letting her take pictures from my camera of her mom and dad, swinging her 35 pound body on my leg pretending it is a horse, finding all my food in the backpack to feed her, and singing to her... I swear I have never been so engaged with any child before in my life. She even refuses to be held by her parents for a nap. When I look at her sleeping in my arms, I cannot believe this! How incredible it is that we so easily give and let them take and not have one complaint!!?? But look at her! … wearing my sunglasses and bursting into an adorable smiling little flower.

Srini and I are both amazed how different it is between other parts of the world and the US. It's unthinkable for a stranger to offer candies to a kid in the US, let alone hugging them and playing with them. American parents teach their children not to tell any stranger their names, not to talk to strangers or accept any food from them (oh god no!) The trust people have offered us here in Morocco is refreshing especially when it has been a roller coaster ride in terms of the level of trust we have reciprocated and how we could warm up to give in return.

When the family leaves at a city one stop before Casablanca, mom gives me a hearty hug. Ikran clings to me, covers me with kisses and yells one last time “aunt Lei choochoo!” I feel a little sad when she disappears into the crowd hurrying off the train. A few minutes later, we hear a knock on the window. There on the platform, dad is holding Ikran up, mom smiles and waves at us. Ikran raises both her hands and waves us good bye with her heart-melting innocent smile. We stand up and wave back. The train slowly starts again. I fall asleep in the next minute...