Translating Nouzha Fassi Fihri's La Baroudeuse: A Case Study in ...

Carrying his slippers--he wanted to keep them whole until he got to Fez--
he ran on callused and cracked bare feet through cities the French had disguised to
look European. A thousand times he was nearly run over by elegant cars, and the
hat-wearing women inside them said, "Oh, oh my goodness! He's crazy,
absolutely crazy!"
He sat down at a sidewalk café, and when the waiter came to take his
order, Sharif ran away, swearing by all the saints that he hadn't done anything
wrong. He thought the waiter--dressed in a white jacket and bow tie--was an
official, superior person capable of harming him.
In this manner, living breathtaking new adventures, suffering from cold,
heat and hunger, sometimes sleeping outdoors, taking serious risks, day by day he
came closer to Fez.
He usually walked, but sometimes he caught a ride on a cart or shared the
saddle with the obliging owner of a donkey. He took the bus when he had a little
money.
He walked down valley paths and followed twisting trails around hills that
shone red, green or gray where the sun transformed them into piles of gems.
He walked in this stunning light, unaware of nature's beauties. Sometimes,
from the top of a slope, the countryside changed into olive groves stretching to the
horizon, orchards where oranges perfumed the pure air, and vegetable gardens
where fragrances mingled in a heady mixture.
Sharif ate however he could along the way. He gathered the fruit of thorny
cactus plants, and filled his mouth with olives, sucking their delicious juice. He
begged milk from a solitary shepherd, sucking the hot sweet liquid from the udder
164