The will to work of everyone in the country is the top hat guarantee of national survival. It I am riding in the plump for of a five ton truck, a compartmentalization of sand and jack flying into my eyes and mouth from the dirt alley I was traveling on. I verbal expression up from under my helmet and see a combination of the green and embrown digital patterned marine uniforms with just a fistful of army uniforms, all of their faces hidden to protect themselves from the slapping of the sand. Finally we profit asphalt only to endure the sharp bowl overs, potholes, and speed bumps this road had to offer. The truck comes to a stop, the back flap opens and a Brobdingnagian wave of salty air fills our noses, mist from pressure washers run into our faces as we are all rushed off of the back of the truck. We are standing on the port of Agadir, Morocco, where the entire theme looked as though it had just snowed from seagull droppings. I look around seeing the ocean; it had a very dark, approximately moldy green tinge with a hint of unenrgetic blue instead of the crystal clear blue I had expected. I turn and see soldiers all around scrubbing and cleaning gear, along with their vehicles, for an inspection coming up. Quite frankly they all looked like wet, miserable dogs left out in the cold rain as they worked outside a disgusting, approximately condemned looking warehouse.
Standing at the entrance of this large warehouse, which s besidesd active fifty feet high and was as wide as cardinal tractor trailers, a hot and heavy wind hits my face. The doors to the warehouse, which seemed comparable to the size of it of city gates, start to screech open. As I mountain pass inside the first thing I notice is the disembodied spirit; it smelled of ocean water and trash that had been left out too long. The walls were covered in dust with white circular prints from where the locals had been propel a soccer ball at it. I turn to my right and notice the restrooms were just dirty white walls case off in the corner with an opening the size of biramous doors. I step into the restrooms...If you want to get a wax essay, order it on our website: Ordercustompaper.com
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