“Then you need a notaire in Marrakech, not a consulate in Paris,” Mme. Leila replied, already reaching for the next ticket number.
Yasmine checked her phone for the tenth time. She had taken a day off from her marketing job in La Défense to be here. Behind the thick glass doors of the consulate, the line snaked forward like a tired serpent. She clutched a green folder containing her father’s passport, her own ID, and the procuration forms.
“Excuse me, madame the Consul,” Omar said, his voice raspy. “I am here for my own procuration . My son in Montreal needs to sell my taxi permit.” He paused, looking at Yasmine’s panicked face. “But perhaps I can help this girl.” procuration consulat maroc
“ Procuration ,” she said, the word feeling heavy in her mouth.
The Keys to the Riad
“Monsieur Omar is correct,” Mme. Leila said. “It is called visio-procédure . It is slow. It takes two hours. But it is legal.”
Omar chuckled. “You young people. You think we old ones don’t know the internet. Since COVID, the Moroccan administration created a video verification system for procurations for those who cannot travel. If the consulate here has the equipment, your father can appear via secure video link from a registered notary’s office in Marrakech. He signs on a tablet. The notary prints. The consulate here witnesses.” “Then you need a notaire in Marrakech, not
Mme. Leila raised an eyebrow. “Monsieur Omar, this is an administrative procedure, not a souk.”