One of the days I was in Morocco we spent visiting the few “sights” there are to see in Rabat. Being the capital, and being where the king has his main palace, you’d think there’d be an overflow of monuments and memorabilia to see.
But maybe that’s just my DC showing.
We did see the tomb where the former king is resting. The building, of course, is grand and sweeping on the outside, and the inside echoes with silence. Those who want to stop by and observe his sarcophagus with their own eyes stand on a sort of observatory deck looking down below where the sarcophagus sits in the center of the room surrounded by flags and gold urns and glittery crystal chandeliers. Guards in full regalia dot the corners and doorways of the observatory deck, but below, the only person there (alive, anyway) is this guy.
He’s tucked into a corner and sits silently, intently reading and pondering over the Koran. Is he going to be quizzed later? Is it so he has something to talk about in case a specter of the former king pays him a visit? How long does he have to sit there? What part of the Koran is he reading? Where can I get a chair like that?
I wonder, had I tried to shout these questions down to him, if the guards would have restrained me? Shushed me?