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The Tale of Two Wells

May 9, 2014

8 years ago I traveled to a desert village an hour outside of Marrakech. I was there to meet a Berber family but had no idea how to pronounce what the village was called or where I was really going. Wandering around the area I saw this well on the edge of the village. This barren area of land surrounded it and I thought it was some kind of metaphor for hope and life. I cherished the black and white photo I took that day and the memory of the experience.
This time when I was in Marrakech, driving through the desert, I saw the well again. Not a well. The original one. Of course it seemed a bit crazy that I could recognize something that I saw so long ago and in an instant recognize it. But I had looked at the photo so many times and, like an old friend, there it was. I had no idea where I was physically but I knew, I knew that well. I knew it had to be the same one.
Now home, comparing the two photos that I took (you can see both below) I am wondering how old the well actually was? When was it made? How long was it standing there before I saw it? It did not look just built then, but I do not know how things age in a desert setting.
Marrakech Well 2006
Obviously in the last 8 years things have cracked, broken or no longer exist but, it did still look like the well was working to produce whatever it needed to survive. So I guess that’s the lesson of the wells (and this post). Life puts you through so many things- tests you, chips away pieces of yourself, even takes away things you hold dear. In the end, you have to do whatever needs to be done to survive.

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