Swishahouse - Departure Roulette- Marrakech lyrics

[Shout out to Migo, Zaytoven] On July 11th, I sent out a response to Heineken on Twitter, for a chance to be dropped somewhere in the middle of the world. I thought it was a brilliant campaign, basically a PGP dream, but it was a pa**ive response and honestly didn't think anything of it. However, I did download the Heineken app and played religiously for 2 weeks, but later found out that had no weight in the decision. Fast forward to yesterday. I got surprised at my offices- with a full camera crew & a giant Destination Roulette machine. I thought I was getting punk'd, but the production costs of a candy gram this elaborate would be pretty expensive. The option I was given was: a) Take the chicken parmesan sandwich, or b) hedge my bets on roulette To those who know me best, this was actually a tough choice. Probably Rob or Manny should've won, because they are the ones that responded first. Anyway, I played the game, and landed on Morocco, and was clearly stoked. My immediate first instinct was to share it on Facebook to get an ego boost, and my friends responded gloriously. So, after I signed the papers and agreed to the rules (and my background check got approved), my flight & stipend was given. It was 2:15pm, and my flight was at 7:15pm. I still had to do the 3 S's, pack, and find my pa**port. My pa**port. I had no clue where it was, and the clock was ticking. Unfortunately, by the time I found my pa**port and Ubered it to JFK, I missed my flight. Damn, that could have been a really cool trip. THE END. ------------ Turns out, re-booking tickets is a thing. So I headed out on first flight the next day. Nick was surprisingly cool and wished me well. While I'm waiting at the gate, it dawned on me that this may be the greatest customer acquisition of all time. In the past 12 hours, I had unknowingly become a lifelong Heini' fan. I ordered a beer in the airport lounge, and snapped a picture that became the theme and my mission for the rest of my trip. In flight entertainment on Air Maroc was filled with outdated movie cla**ics. But then I found the R&B catalog, which spanned from Elle Varner to Nas. I was intrigued and turned on an edited Nas channel until the dinner came. ["CROODS", Air Ms. Doubt fire, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, All Presidents men, Free Willy, I am Sam, Speed] "Sorry we have no more fish… but 1 more beef lasagna". Fine. No clue what happened after that, I woke up 7 hours later with a snack bag on the seat, breakfast on the table, and covered hair to shoes in red lint from my inflight blanket. Perfect. I looked like Harry after his chicken feather encounter. [SLE]. I step out of the jet bridge into Casablanca, and naturally head to the restroom to freshen up...crossing my fingers it's not a squatter. Then, I rinsed my mouth thoroughly and swallowed the water. My entire life flashed in front of me and I foreshadowed the whole trip hugging a toilet. How could I mess up so soon into my journey!? Feeling like I lost all hope, I head to the "Caffriccio" for some coffee, but low and behold, they had Heineken. I drank it quietly in the corner waiting for my connection to Marra-chh (sh** I forgot the name of the city). I'm a**uming the culture in Casablanca frowns upon drinking at 9:30am, because every person is staring… but it also may be for the lint. The film crew asked me if I was adventurous back in NYC, so I have to hold my word. On to Marrakech: I was received by the hotel at the airport, and checked into the Riad- which was a 2 minute walk to the popular Medina and Mosque. It started to sink in that I was working undercover for Heinekin, and maybe this was the real point of this entire campaign. I told every person I encountered of how I was dropped, and how I was on this journey to spread the gospel of this beer. I was the unofficial spokesperson, I couldn't let them down. And again, as fate had it, the hotel fridge was stocked with Pringles and Heineken... it was a sign. I took one in my backpack, and decided to take my beer to the square. One problem, this was a predominantly m**m nation- and drinking was haram. I asked my host if it was kosher to drink in the main area. She responded "Sure, you must try the fresh squeezed orange juice, it is safe for you". Well, is there *anything* else you can drink. She shot back, "Of course, there is mint tea." I knew I had to be careful. I ventured inside the Souk where the markets were, and spoke to all the Many didn't want their pictures taken, and shooed me away at the sight of me pulling out the green bottle out of my bag. But I did find people, who gave me permission to use their face or store, in hopes of becoming seen in an advertisement America. I took pictures EVERYWHERE: - In the record shop [my new buddy Simo] - In the streets - In the restaurant for lunch - And my favorite, a short music video with nice product placement Sunlight was running out, and it was time for my Hammam ma**age. She gave a couple questionable moves, but I was in a pretty vulnerable state and couldn't exactly say anything… Nor could she understand as she only spoke French. I would later find out that "special ma**ages" were quite common in this area, but I had no partaking in such activities. That night at dinner I chose the 'Tasting Menu'- which is never good for the lactose intolerant. Unfortunately, I spent the remainder of the evening in my hotel room. I labeled it under jet lag to feel better about myself, and called it a night. My trip to Zagura: The sand dunes seemed to be the 1 excursion I wanted to embark on, as I've never seen the desert before nor rode a camel, 2 birds with 1 stone. Since I made this realization after the bus left at 7am, I convinced the tour guide office to book me a personal car to Zagura, & I could meet the rest of the group at the base. Then, I met Abdilah aka Abdul aka my best friend the the next 24 hours. At first I was a bit skeptical, as I pre-paid the entire trip including: a night's stay in the tent, 3 meals, the car service, and the camel ride before I was even introduced. It also didn't help that the tour guide and 3 men stood outside the car and divided the $2200 Dirham amongst themselves. Anyways, one of the best ice breakers in a foreign country is laughter. I let him know that I was from the U.S., and of Indian decent- the 2 main questions people have asked me up until this point. The drive was about 6 hours, and you can learn a ton about people in that amount of time. I was more interested in his experiences. Good conversations are based on the questions you ask, and one of my favorite lines from Finding Forrester "Never ask a question, you don't want to know the answer to"] I happened to have a flash drive with a ton of new electronic music and 60 minute+ DJ sets, which I gave to him as a present. I'll continue to do this for future trips, it may be the best present to give someone. I had several playlists downloaded to my phone via Spotify, so we went song for song (SLE: He played one I played one until you run out of good songs to play.) He completely destroyed me. I played them Jesus Walks and Chief Keefs - but his selection was timely and effortless. He played pre-Timberland One Republic, Ja Rule & Ashanti collaborations, and the new DRAKE. It was interesting how he found new music, and stumbled upon his new favorite artists. He even settled a debate I've been toiling over for 3 years now: Rihanna or Beyonce. Amazing. He played me some other songs as well, that I'm excited to re-live when I get home. [ La La La Naughty Boy, Sam Smith, Asaf Avidan (wa*k remix-- One Day We'd be old, think of all the stories we could've told), and Lil tip- Casablanca.] After I told him the story of how I landed in Marrakech, Abdul gave me the quoatable of the century, "everyone will think you are crazy, then you succeed". Someone may have said it before, but he will always be credited in my book. Right before we met the rest of the group, Abdul insisted I wear traditional garment as this will enrich my experience. Be the water. I bought the parachute pants and a head scarf and was introduced to my camel, which I named him Oscar. This was a very different feeling than what I expected. Imagine riding a broken carousel, but instead of sitting on the seat, you are sitting on the pole with a small blanket. This continued for 45 minutes until we reached our camp ground. It was a very beautiful setting, the open desert, sun setting, and miles & miles of sand. I was given a single tent, and immediately headed to the main area to have dinner. Again, I told the group how I ended up here, many ironically from Holland. We feasted on chicken tagine, melon, and potatoes and shared our experiences of Morocco thus far. The tour guides that ran the place were nomads, who travelled with the sun and astrological patterns, and made us feel very safe while being in the middle of the desert. Having traveled extensively, I've been accustomed to using the restroom outdoors, and strategically packed wet wipes for this exact scenario. So, I staked my spot 20 feet behind my tent, not thinking anything of it. Later, I'd find out there was a 8 stall bathroom. In the middle of the desert. With a porcelean seat and toilet paper. In the middle of the desert. I clearly was mistaken, and it was obvious to some that there was human feces among the camel's. Oh well. The night was filled with singing and dancing and I embraced the nickname Shah Rukh Khan to the fullest, which may be the highest compliment I've ever received. I threw myself into the drum circle, and hummed along to many Arabic cla**ics.