Arzew Anchor
"Houria fishes the traditional way in Arzew's industrial harbor. When marine safety officer Klaus arrives inspecting, she shows him that old ways navigate better than new rules. 'El bahr y'allem' (البحر يعلّم) - The sea teaches."
Arzew's harbor held giants—LNG tankers, petrochemical ships. And Houria's little boat.
"Safety violation," Klaus cited.
"El bahr ma yetviolech." The sea can't be violated. "Yetba'."
Her fishing grounds sat between industry—traditional routes that predated refineries.
"You can't fish here."
"Jaddi sayyad hna."
"Regulations—"
"El bahr 'ando regulations ta'ou."
She was substantial—captain of a tiny vessel, commanding presence in massive harbor.
"How do you avoid ships?"
"El bahr y'allem."
"The sea teaches navigation?"
"Y'allem koulech."
Days of inspection taught him. Klaus watched her dance between tankers—impossible, graceful, safe.
"Radar couldn't do that."
"El radar ma ychoufch el bahr."
"What does the sea show you?"
"Wach nchoufou."
"What do you see?"
"El tariq."
Night brought fishing—lanterns bobbing, traditional nets, the sea yielding.
"El siyada bi hadi el tariqa?"
"Kima jeddi."
"Your grandfather fished here?"
"Mn qbel el petrole."
"Houria..."
"El bahr qalli."
"The sea told you?"
"Yqoul you're learning."
She kissed him on rocking boat.
"Hada..."
"El bahr."
She undressed in lantern light, her curves maritime.
"Mein Gott," he breathed.
"El bahr," she said. "Ana bent el bahr."
He navigated her like learning channels—finding depth, respecting current.
"Klaus," she moaned.
"Hna." He found her harbor. "El mina."
She anchored beneath him, pleasure maritime.
"Dkhol," she gasped. "El mina."
He docked in her, and understood what safety meant.
"El bahr y'allem," she cried.
"Fina."
Their rhythm was tidal—in, out, natural.
"Qrib," she warned.
"M'aya." He sailed into her. "El bahr y'allem."
They arrived together, pleasure harbored. Klaus held her through the mooring.
"El violations?" she asked.
"Dismissed."
"Alache?"
"Traditional rights recognized."
His reports created exemptions—old ways protected, industry adapting to fishermen.
"El approach?" maritime asked.
"El bahr y'allem."
Now he fishes beside her, learning what regulations miss.
"El safety officer w el sayyada," they say.
"El bahr jab'na," Houria smiles.
"El bahr ykhallina," Klaus adds.
Some anchors hold forever.