Moroccan Nikita's

How long, Essaouira... a place that seems always wrapped in a dreamy haze. A place where everything goes very very slowly. You ordered a coffee or an orange juice in one of the town's trendiest cafes? well you have to wait. Call the waiter three times, remind him you are there, repeat your order, cause no, it's not a tea you wanted, and in the end maybe you'll get your coffee or you'll have to deal with a tea. You're coming from Europe where things go more or less fast and precise, normally you would complain, but when you get the tea that you never ordered and the waiter smiles at you as if the world was perfect, well you inhale the perfume of the fresh mint, taste your sweet tea, lay back and start to believe the world is perfect, indeed. After a few days in town, nothing can bother you anymore, for you're so relaxed that you couldn't care less about the surrounding slow motion. You're probably smoking some dope, too, which helps. I remember thes...

Now it's official, we are three. Three people, in two eyes. Doesn't make sense?  Well someone , somewhere wrote I was a fanatic xenophile, which maybe explains I was meant to gladly welcome strangers not only in my country (ies), in my home(s) but also in my own body to coexist and more, to live together till death make us part.  The receiving of donor tissue is a quite curious thing. This time, when I was taken to the operation room by this funny guy who was telling me about his testicles operation (?!) they gave me a box and some files to hold in my arms and take with me, which was fine until I read "donor tissue " on the box and asked, horrified, if the box was containing what I thought it was. One nurse laughed and said, "well it's for you, you gotta bring it with you!"  I was feeling really weird to transport in a box the human cornea that was going to be a part of me. Well, I didn't drop the precious treasure, only asked them to put it...