The little green plastic suitcase by Robert Abitbol (Tuesday April 13 2004, 00:28 am) (c) Robert Abitbol, 2004
It was 40 years ago. To the day. I left Casablanca, Morocco for a country we never knew: Canada. It was the 13th of April 1964. I'll go check my perpetual calendar and see what day it was. It was a Monday. Perhaps we left Paris on the 12th on a Sunday.
In those days there were no flights between Casablanca and Morocco so we took a plane to Paris.
A few days before we left my parents bought me a little plastic suitcase to put some of my stuff in. I was delighted. By the suitcase and the perspective of taking the plane and discovering a new country.
Leaving my cousins, my aunts, my uncles, my grandparents? Not at all. I have no problems leaving people.
Leaving my roots? No, not at all.
I perhaps was a little sad to leave my best friend Mickael Simony. He gave me his picture glued on some kind of board he had made. He seemed sentimental. I was surprised. He seemed so much like a rotten spoiled kid; I was surprised he even had feelings!
But that suitcase made my day. It was the first suitcase that belonged to me. If I remember well my sister had the same one in red.
I also remember on the terrace on top of my building. I had the suitcase in my hand I put stuff in it: a book or two, a pen, a notebook.
I also remember that we went to eat at different places before leaving Casablanca. At my Aunt Gilberte's on rue Roger Burger; we went to see my uncle Ralph etc.
Since there were a lot of children on both my father and my father side, there were a lot of people to go visit.
I wonder where we slept the last night in Casablanca.
Morning came, we went to the airport. Many members of the family were there. A lot were crying...
And the plane took off... Direction Paris.
The first half on my life was completed: my youth in Morocco. I'd live my teen years and most of my adult life in Canada.
And heck the sadness I did not feel then, I am feeling now as I write 40 years later. The sadness we feel when we re-live the past.
That was 40 years ago day for day.
And the little green plastic suitcase? Well I am sure it did not last long. It was not very durable.
I had forgotten about this green suitcase until a few days ago. For me it was the symbol of my leaving Morocco...