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¹º°¡ ÀÌ»óÇÏ°Ô µ¹¾Æ°£´Ù´Â ´À³¦Àº ÀÖ¾úÁö¸¸ÀǽÉÀ» ÇÏÀÚ¸é ³¡ÀÌ ¾ø´Â ¹ý±×³É È£ÀÇ(û¿ëò)·Î ¹Þ¾ÆµéÀ̱â·Î Çß´Ù¸¶À½ÀÇ ÆòÁ¤(øÁð¡)À» ´Ù½Ã °¡´ÙµëÀº µÚ "OK" Çß´Ù±×·¯ÀÚ ÀÌ Ä£±¸¸¶Ä¡ ±â´Ù·È´Ù´Â µíÀÌ ÀÚ¸®¸¦ ÀϾ ±æÀ» ÀçÃËÇÑ´Ù´ë·Îº¯(ÓÞÖØÜ«)À» ¹þ¾î³ª À̸é(×êØüµµ·Î¸¦ µû¶ó °è¼Ó °È´Â´ÙÁÖº¯¿¡ °¡³­ÇÑ Æ¼°¡ Ç«Ç« ³ª´Â °Ô¸¶Ä¡ ¿¾³¯ ¿ì¸®³× 50~60³â´ë Ãʸ¦ ¿¬»óÄÉ ÇѴٱ׳ªÀú³ª ¾ó¸¶ ¾È µÈ´Ù°í ÇÑ °Å¸®°¡ ¹ú½á 30ºÐÀ» °É¾îµµ ¾ÆÁ÷ ¾È ³ªÅ¸³­´Ù³»½É ºÒ¾ÈÇØÁ³´ÙÀÌ Ä£±º ³ªÀÇ ½É°æ(ãýÌÑ)À» ¾Ë¾Æë´ÂÁö ÀüÇô °ÆÁ¤ÇÏÁö ¸»¶ó¸ç ¾È½É½ÃÅ°±â¿¡ ¹Ù»Ú´ÙÀ½ÁÖ°¡ Çã¿ëµÈ ƯÁ¤ ±¸¿ªÀ» °¡±â ¶§¹®À̶ó´Ï ±×µµ ±×·²µíÇÏ°Ô µé·È´ÙÅõÁ¤À» ºÎ¸± ¼öµµ ¾ø´Â óÁö(ô¥ò¢)°¡ µÅ¹ö·È´Ù. <°è¼Ó>

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°¨»çÇÕ´Ï´Ù.

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People met on my backpacking 105

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A story getting dragged into a swindler - 2

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Nevertheless, I became their target. The story is as follows. Being entered the park, I felt so good that my tension was immediately gone. I was leisurely strolling through the park in an exotic atmosphere. Suddenly, I heard a Korean word somewhere behind me that doubts my ears. "Are you Korean?" I was really surprised that someone could know me instantly he saw me.

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By a conditional reflection, I couldn¡¯t help but looked around immediately. In fact, here in Casablanca, they only called Oriental people as "Japani" or "Gina". Anyway, I¡¯d never heard of what they called "Korean?" (It was then in 1990s).

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When turning back, then one of the two guys sitting on the bench said to me in Korean, "Hello, you are Korean, aren¡¯t you?" "Yes, I am." I simply greeted and tried to keep going on my way. But at that moment he spoke to me. I couldn¡¯t leave him right away. He seemed in his late thirties, dressed in a neat suit, looked in every inch a gentleman. And another guy was in his mid-twenties wearing sunglasses. The gentleman said once more. "Korea?" Replied to him, but I didn¡¯t approach him.

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Then suddenly he took out a picture postcard from his pocket and showed it to me. And he said, "Can you write down here some Korean here for me?" Since then, of course he kept speaking in English. The situation had changed. I couldn¡¯t look down his favor.

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On the other hand, I had a lot of curiosity about him. First, this guy was so calm, decent manner. He never moved, just sitting on the bench and seemed relaxed. It was a very decent attitude. I thought I didn¡¯t have to doubt him anymore and came straight to him. This guy then asked me to sit down next to him. And he continued to say the following words slowly.

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He: I have a Korean friend in Pusan. We worked together last year in a trading company in Labat. His name is Mr. Kim Hyong-shi. Now, I want to send him a card, but the problem is that I don't know how to write in Korean and the English either. Speaking in English and Korean is no problem. But I can't write it. Will you help me write his address in Korean?

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He asked me like this, very politely. Well, I wondered who would say 'NO' and just turn away at his polite manner, asking under this kind of circumstances? For me? I accepted him of course.

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Me: OK. That's no problem. Will you show me his address.?

Then he took out a notebook from his pocket. It was true that there was Korean's name and address. I just wrote them down in Korean and then handed it over to him. That's it what I did.

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But again, he asked me to write down on the card what he spoke in English. Of course, I did it for him. And then he began to introduce himself. His name was Nasser, his current profession was a seafarer, had a wife and a son, living near Marrakech. The guy next to him was his nephew and was a graduate student.

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He said, ¡°I¡¯ve returned here from Finland in three months. I'm on vacation for three days here in Casablanca. Here, I have my own aunt and staying with her for a day and then leave for my home in Marrakech tomorrow.¡± Well, listening to him for a long time I trusted him. His English was excellent.

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I asked him again, ¡°I think your English is very good. You didn¡¯t have to ask me about it. Why?¡± His replying was like this, ¡°Of course I can but as I told you I can¡¯t write English. It¡¯s because I couldn¡¯t learn it at school.¡±

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On the other hand, his nephew, so called, graduate student continued to sit down. Never showed his feelings or expressions on him. But I wanted to talk with him something since he was a graduate student. ¡°what¡¯s your major?¡± ¡°The Arab History¡± I again asked him something about his school. He then naturally explained it, relatively in detail. No awkwardness in his explanation of the school. However, strangely enough, anyway he never took his sunglasses off his face. Anyway, I decided not to question him more. Since then, I felt so easy, more relaxed.

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Nasser asked me if I tried a Moroccan traditional tea. Told him I had a peppermint tea in a restaurant. He said, ¡°It¡¯s not real one.¡± Pointing to the top of the park, he offered me to try a real Moroccan tea in the café there. He wanted to treat me for my helping him. I accepted his offer. While moving to a café in the park, which was only five minutes away, the sunglasses guy just came along us. Well, it was a lovely cafe with some cool young guys.

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His nephew said nothing at all the time. Nasser and I talked to each other. His sailing experience was great. After a while, he got up and went to the counter and then back to me with three cigarettes in his hand. He looked very strange to me because of his poor action as a foreign ship¡¯s man. I mean he didn¡¯t buy a pack of cigarette. But it was a common look there then. They sold cigarette not by packs but one by one on the streets in Casablanca.

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He paid the waiter for my tea. And then, asked me if I wanted to beer. At his sudden asking, I said, ¡°Yes.¡± without thinking anything. But I told him I didn¡¯t drink because it¡¯s an Islamic country. Then he said, "No problem." It was an interesting reaction to me. He smiled and said, ¡°Today the Muslim culture here is open to the public. So don¡¯t worry about it. One glass of beer will be ok if you want.¡± He never pushed me but gently.

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Felt something strange but I decided not to doubt him. Keeping my mind calm again and said "OK". Then he walked out of the cafe as if he was ready to start. We went off the big road and kept walking along the side road. The atmosphere in this village reminded me of the early 1950s~1960s in Korea when poorest in the world.

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By the way, he said that we were almost there, but he still kept walking. For about 30 minutes¡¯ walk though, it still felt far. Becoming uneasy I didn¡¯t know what to do myself. Then he said, ¡°Don¡¯t worry. It¡¯s almost done.¡± He seemed to me as if he read my mind. He said again, ¡°You know it¡¯s far because it¡¯s a certain area where drinking is permitted.¡± Seemed like logic, agreeable. Anyway, I thought I¡¯d better not complain.

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Thanks. Good Luck!

 

 

 

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