On a Wave and a Prayer in Taghazout

I was paddling into position to catch my next wave when the call to prayer sounded from the village across the beach. It was a low, mesmerizing moan.

“Allah Akhbar!’’ (“God is great.’’) A reminder of our humility. On a barren hillside in the distance someone had arranged enormous white-painted rocks to spell in Arabic:

“God. Nation. King.’’

Dude, I thought, you are a long way from Cape Cod.

I had come to Morocco to visit my oldest son, who was spending a junior semester learning Arabic. But as I was planning the trip my surfing buddies in New England told me I would be crazy to pass up Morocco’s world-class waves. Like most Americans, I had never associated surfing and Morocco. 
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