摩洛哥奇遇記 是婚禮還是騙局(中)

“Achmed,” I said, “I can’t pay that much for a robe I’m only going to wear once.”

“艾哈邁德，”我説，“我不能為一件只穿一次的長袍而付這麼多錢。”

“No, no, this is a fine robe, you have excellent taste. It will be very comfortable. And useful. You can wear it around your house, in your garden, anywhere. Cool in summer, warm in winter. How much can you pay?”

“不，不，這是一件很好的長袍，你的品味很不錯。它穿着也很舒服。還很有用。你可以在房子周圍穿，在花園穿，任何地方都可以。冬暖夏涼。你能付多少呢？”

“I only have about 350 dirham to spare.”

“我只能付大約350迪拉姆。”

Achmed returned to say he was able to purchase the robe for 340 dirham, with 10 left over for a rope belt. “And to get that price, I tell you it was like pulling teeth.” He made vigorous yanking motions with his hand.

艾哈邁德返回去説他可以用340迪拉姆買下這件長袍，剩下的10塊可以買一條腰帶。“要砍到那個價格，我告訴你就像是拔牙一樣。”他用手做了一個猛拉的動作。

After leading me back to my hotel, Achmed promised to return in an hour to drive me to the wedding. I figured now that they had collected their commissions, it would be the last I’d see of the so-called brothers.

在帶我返回酒店之後，艾哈邁德承諾一個小時之後回來帶我去參加婚禮。我想現在他們已經拿到了佣金，我應該不會再見到這對所謂的兄弟了。

Robe in a plastic bag at my side, I sat outside at a nearby cafe. The smell of grilled lamb wafted through the air, the smoke rising to meet the call to prayer from the tower of a nearby mosque. Well-dressed Moroccan men, alone or in pairs, filled the cafe tables, sipping tea and sodas, smoking cigarettes. Not one of them was wearing a robe.

我坐在附近的一家咖啡館裏，塑料袋裏的長袍放在身旁。烤羊肉的味道在空氣中瀰漫，升騰而起的煙霧與來自附近一家清真寺塔樓的禱告聲交相輝映。衣着得體的摩洛哥男子，或獨身或成雙，坐滿了咖啡館，輕啜茶水和蘇打，吸着香煙。沒有人穿着長袍。

The man sitting at the table next to mine leaned over to say, “A thousand welcomes to Morocco,” with his hand over his heart.

坐在我旁邊桌的男子斜身過來説：“非常歡迎來到摩洛哥，”他的手放在心口。

“A thousand thank yous,” I answered, not knowing the proper response.

“非常感謝，”我答道，不知道如何回答為好。

“So did you meet some men on the train?”

“你在火車上認識了一些人？”

“What? How did you know that?”

“什麼？你怎麼知道？”

“I saw you with them at the train station. Did they bring you to a hotel? Ask you to buy things?”

“我在火車站看到你和他們在一起。他們帶你到了一家酒店？讓你去買東西？”

“Um, yes.”

“嗯，是的。”

“Be very careful,” he said, then stood and walked away, inclining his head and tapping his heart again as a farewell.

“一定要小心，”他説，然後就站起來離開了，低下頭再一次拍着他的心口以作道別。

My worry increased. I knew little about my current location and two men had promised to drive me somewhere completely unknown. And a stranger had just warned me about them.

我的擔心加重了。我對自己當前的位置幾乎一無所知，而那兩個人承諾要帶我去一個完全未知的地方。而一位陌生人剛剛警告我要小心他們。

As I picked over a pastry and sipped a cup of mint tea, a beat-up Honda pulled to the curb. Mustafa smiled and nodded from the driver’s seat. Achmed jumped out of the passenger side and opened the back door. “Hurry, it is time to go!”

就在我拿起一塊點心並喝着薄荷茶的時候，一輛老舊的本田車停在了路邊。穆斯塔法坐在司機的位置，微笑着朝我點頭。艾哈邁德從副駕駛位置下車並打開了後排車門。“快點，我們要出發了！”

“So soon? But where are your robes?”

“這麼快？但是你們的長袍呢？”

Achmed laughed, “Oh, we have them in the trunk. We change at the wedding. Get in, we go now.” A car honked behind them.

艾哈邁德笑着説：“哦，我們的長袍在行李箱裏面。我們在婚禮的時候會換上。上車，我們現在出發。”後面的車在鳴笛催促。

I wondered what I should do. This could very well be a kidnapping, a robbery or worse. In my moment of internal debate, the deciding factor was my robe. The purchase of traditional formalwear seemed like a totally unnecessary step in an abduction. So I grabbed what had now become my Moroccan security blanket and hopped into the car.

我不知道該怎麼辦。這很有可能是一場綁架、搶劫甚至更加嚴重。在我內心掙扎的時候，我的長袍成了決定因素。購買一件傳統的禮服看上去是綁架案件中完全不必要的步驟。因此我抓起現已成為我的摩洛哥安全毛毯然後跳上車。

Instead of a short ride to a hotel or convention hall for the wedding, we drove out of town and into the darkness of the desert.

我們並沒有短途駕駛到舉行婚禮的酒店或宴會廳，而是開出了城鎮進入到荒漠的黑暗中。

“So where, exactly, are we going?” I asked.

“那麼我們到底要去哪裏？”我問道。

“To the wedding, of course,” was all Achmed would say.

“當然是去婚禮現場，”艾哈邁德只説了這麼一句。