Morroco

My trip to Africa at the end of October seemed to last much longer than six quick days, and while I was there I certainly felt that I was worlds apart from where I had been.  Now looking back, as time has again sped up, I find it almost unbelievable that I had been there at all.  I submitted a short article to my ISA office for MagazISA - a compilation of students' work - and in my article I talked about how big of an impact my visit there left on my heart, and also how in return I feel I left no trace.  It was a very humbling and eye-opening experience for me that I feel can't be put into a blog all too well, so I hope I can talk about it with anyone who's interested once I return.  For now, I can't think of a better way of explaining what I saw and felt than with my pictures...and that's a lot more fun anyhow, right?

Sunrise in Africa!  We left Granada at 3:30AM to ride to the coast, cross the Straight of Gibraltar, arrive in the Spanish city of Ceuta, and cross the boarder into Morroco.  We were greeted with a beautiful morning looking out over the Mediterranean.

After MANY long hours on the bus, we finally arrived at our hotel in Fez and spent the evening relaxing.  I walked around the streets near our hotel with a few other students and took in my first impression of life in urban Morocco.  One striking image was the amount of cafes lining the streets, all of which were packed, but only with men.  Of course Morocco is a more progressive country than many, but it is still more or less taboo for many women to  be seen leisurely enjoying themselves at a cafe, as they are expected to be at home fulfilling domestic duties.   The next morning we were up and out the door early to hit Fez' famous Medina, or market and city center.  This was our first image of down-town.

Walking through the Medina of Fez was unbelievable!  We had to follow a tour guide who demanded we not get lost, because if we did, we could be lost for days.  The "streets" of the Medina are just like this photo above.  No wider than necessary, without names, sometimes requiring you to duck, and sometimes pitch black!  We made sure not to get lost.

A "wide street" in the Medina.  Our tour guide, Mohib, explained how life in the Medina is not like life even just on the outskirts of town, let alone in the rest of Morocco.  Here in the bustling market center, you're family is wealthier with the more children you have.  When you meet a new person in the Medina, the first question you ask is, "How many children do you have?" and if you meet a newly-wed couple, you tell them to "Jiggy jiggy"...I'm sure you can figure that one out.  People live above their shops and everything is open to the ...fresh?...air.  All you see are pedestrians and donkeys pulling carts - no cars or fat Americans allowed (so says Mohib).

Surprisingly only one person on the street!  This was not common in the Medina.  I just wanted to show you some more of the local merchandise.

Walking through the narrow streets doesn't give you much perspective on what the buildings look like inside.  In the middle of our tour we popped inside a building and entered this enormous rug shop that functions as a co-op for female rug weavers who are single due to separation or widows and who are fortunately "saved" from being on the streets by working (under good conditions) with this rug seller.  We were served hot mint tea while men ran about rolling out carpet after carpet.  Then we were all pulled into separate rooms by one of the many salesmen to watch them work their magic of sales - Most commonly heard phrase of our trip: "How much you want? I give you a good price..."

Lunch!  The food photos continue! Every meal was usually a combination of a couscous platter with small servings of cooked vegetables and delicious, sweet bread. This food was ultimately some people's pleasure, and others' downfall.

After lunch we headed to a tannery where, upon entering, we were given a bunch of mint leaves to cover our noses with in order to mask the smell of the leather being washed and dyed in these vats below.

After the tannery we wove through the Medina once more (Where along the way a man offered me 5000 camels to be his wife! I graciously declined) and then took a tour through a textile shop where we watched men work on future scarves, table cloths, and turbans.

Our final stop was at a ceramic factory on the outside of the Medina and we were able to see every step of the process in which a bowl made by a man (in 30 seconds in front of us) went from this...

...to something like these beautiful dishes (do they look familiar to my blog background?)

Before heading out of the town, our bus stopped at a lookout to get a great view of Fez at sunset.  It was interesting to note how these cities consist of buildings with only two or three stories maximum.  There were no high-rises to be seen, leaving the tallest structures to be the prayer towers.

Allyson and I couldn't pass up the chance to get a photo with our tour guide, Mohib, who spent the entire day with us, looking out for us like a flock of sheep in the winding Medina, and taking care of the sick students who dropped like flies throughout the day as our stomachs tried (and often failed) to get accustomed to the new food and aromas.

That night, the majority of us took a trip to a large tea house where we watched belly dancing and listened to traditional Moroccan musicians - my favorite instrument was most certainly the old rusted shears...

Our time in Fez was wonderful, but the desert was calling, and so the next morning we were back on the bus and in for another long day of driving to get to Merzouga.  We stopped for lunch at this oasis, which was not exactly the cliche image of a few palm trees surrounding a small spring in the middle of the desert, to say the least...

More hours on the bus, and then we finally arrived in Erfoud, a larger city on the edge of the desert, where we left most of our luggage behind and climbed into 4x4 jeeps to get whisked off into the desert as the sun set.  You should notice that in this photo all of the jeeps are going in different directions.  Apparently every driver (all Berber men) had his own idea of the fastest way to our campsite, and none of them followed the same route.  Yes, I had a few moments of panic, but of course, we all made it there safely!

Upon arrival to our campsite in the desert it was pitch dark.  We were led to our tent where we found six thin, but very comfortable, mattresses spread over rugs and covered in thick blankets for the cold desert nights.  Our tents were all connected to make a walled-in, fortress-like campsite with only two entrances, which were constantly watched over by Berber men sitting above the campsite on the sand dunes.

At 5AM we woke to the sound of a prayer call from a distant desert village, as Morocco is an Islamic country and so every city has prayer towers that announce the five daily prayers that echo down the streets, or in our case out into the desert.  We groggily rolled out of our tents in warm winter-wear and met with a bunch of Berber men who walked us out into the desert to what each of them considered to be the "best" sand dune where we sat and watched the sun rise. 

As the sun rose (and the temperature fell) we all got our first real glimpse of the desert surrounding us, and the view put us all to silence.

Heading back to the campsite with the sun fully above the dunes, we came upon this group of camels and Berber guides, waiting for our desert tour begin!

Allyson and I decided to be camel buddies, and I'm so glad I went with someone I knew! Riding on a camel is certainly a rocky ride with very little personal space, and getting up on an initially sitting camel includes one big lurch to the front and one heaving swing to the back - much better than any roller coaster, by far.

Once we all had our fun getting up on the camels, we headed off....into...well, the desert! It was smooth orange sand and pure blue sky for as far as the eye could see. 

After our amazing camel ride, which I was sad to have to end, we went into a small desert village where immediately upon entering we were surrounded by the local children.  As tourists are a typical site in their village, they had no shame about running right up to us and asking for dirhams, euros, and candy.  Of course it is not advisable to teach children that they can beg money of strangers, so our directors brought bags of candy instead.

Dinner back at the campsite involved this smorgasbord of vegetables, meat, noodles and sweet bread which we washed down with coca-cola and candy-sweet apple soda. After dinner I spent the rest of my night in our mess-hall tent where a local band played desert music while our Berber guides danced like camels.  It was amazing!!!!!  I tried to imitate them the best I could as they tried to imitate our style of dancing.  We all danced long into the night and went to bed with soar legs from trying to be one like the camel.  I will be happy to give lessons upon my return ; )

Although desert-time certainly passed slowly, the inevitable crept into our tents on the last morning in Merzouga.  We packed up our bags, said goodbye to the children from the village who stood on the dunes above our campsite looking for any last gift we tourists might consider giving them, and headed out for a long desert drive while my mind reeled in disbelief of what we had just experienced.  Another long bus ride ensued, and then we arrived in Meknes in the early evening with just enough time to take a taxi ride around the city to see the important sites.  I went with a few girlfriends and we ended up at the city's Medina - much smaller and more manageable than the one in Fez.  Here you can get a taste, if you will, of the style of presentation.

Allyson, Elizabeth, Julie and I had a blast with our taxi driver who took us around to the best sites, offered to take our photos, and waited for us at every stop - under orders from our directors who had to explain it all in French - yes, we were really at a loss for communication, but it worked out with a little help!  Here we are in front of the royal palace of Meknes.

Whew!  So there's my trip to Morocco in a very small nutshell.  It was an unforgettable trip that can not compare to any experience I have ever had before.  The stark contrast between the wealthy and destitute, the city and the desert, the modern and the traditional... I still have doubts that I was ever there at all.  I will never forget the faces of the people of the desert - tough and worn from the sun and wind.  Nor will I forget the image of the families in the mountains who literally sprinted to our buses when we stopped along the treacherous highways to give out collection boxes of clothes, candy and food. But also, I will never forget playing soccer with young Berber boys in the desert, about the shear joy these people had with much less than most of the people I know could ever imagine surviving on.  I have nothing more to say other than I am truly humbled from this journey.