Open Letter to the Muezzin of the Mosque near Hasna Hotel, Marrakech

I like you.  I do, and that means a lot, coming from me.  I dont like to be woken up at 4:45 am, or even 9 am, and definitely not both, not ever, let alone every day.  So you may understand that when I say that I like you it is a big deal. 

Over the past month I have traveled to many cities in your country, from the northernmost Tangier to the edges of the Sahara desert.  Thats 30 days, give or take a few.  30 pre dawn wake up calls, 30 morning announces, 30 afternoon warbles, 30 evening chats, 30 moonlit conversations.  You, Meuzzin of the Mosque near the Hasna Hotel, Marrakech, you are my favorite. 

Perhaps it is because you are next door to the only church I have seen in Morocco that you are so good.  Maybe you feel the pressure of competition or the need to prove yourself to the psalm singers.  This I do not know.

All I do know is that at 4:45 am it doesnt matter what language you speak; I will not understand.  This is good considering that you speak Arabic and I do not.  However the gentle singsong of your voice is greatly preferable to the harsh guttural calls I have heard elsewhere.  Also, you keep it short and, I imagine, to the point.

I am told that to be the meuzzin of the Koutoubia Mosque is the most prestigous in all of Marrakech.  I dont know if this is true, but if it is I think they should consider letting you try it out.