The Saga Continues

If you happened to read my last post, you would have been regaled with the tale of confusion that goes with trying to do something simple in a very complex society. That something being the reacquisition of Internet after a 2 month absence. 

The salient point of the story was that I had to put my router in the garbage. Not recycling. But garbage.

There is “no way” to simply replace the SIM card (that is actually made of paper), and put in a new one to make it work again. No way.

I took my plastic box and its perfectly good cord, back to the store to implore them to please allow me to continue using the same box which is less than 6 months old, rather than sacrificing another bit of plastic to the wilds of Morocco for a camel to step on. 

“No”, they said. “It’s impossible. The box will not work with a new SIM card. You must have a whole new box.” And:

  • a whole new electric cord;
  • a giant cardboard box;
  • plastic wrap around each separate component;
  • a WAN cable I will never use;
  • and full instruction booklets. 

I got it all home after running around hither and yon. I plugged it in to the wall, I waited the obligatory 1 hour. 


Being of moderate intelligence and having used technology once before, I turned the box over.

Upon .328 milliseconds of inspection I saw the SIM card was not fully seated. I took my pointer finger, pressed lightly and inserted the SIM card in place, watching it snap a little into its proper position. I plugged the router back in and waited.


I unplugged the route for 5 full minutes and tried again.


Today after lunch I walked back to the Orange store at Carre Eden, because you’ll be dragging my dead body if you are going to the train station store. It was open. That’s a good start.  This is my 3rd visit in 3 days and I am now familiar with the faces. Hakima was off today. One worker had her children there, sitting in a chair watching a video. Lovely.

At one point she asked the older child about the baby in Darija, and I proudly replied “Binty n3ssing” which means “the little girl is sleeping” in Darija with a hint of English conjugation.

I waited while a lovely French women paid some bills and then it was my turn. I produced my contract and explained I had no Internet. 

Here’s how that went. (I have changed the name to protect the innocent.) 

Salma : “ Did you bring the box with you” 

Me : “No” 

Salma : “I have to check the box. I need to see the box because I have to see the bottom of it to make it work.” 

Me : “I checked the SIM card. It was not fully seated. I inserted it properly and it still is not working.” 

Salma : “ Oh, I see. Because we had that problem with all the boxes we sold yesterday. You inserted the SIM card?” 

Me : “Yes, I inserted the SIM card.” 

Salma : “You will have to return with the box. If the Internet is not working it is either the router or the SIM card. If the SIM card is not working, we will simply give you a new one.”