So I'm not really sure how to describe my trip to Morocco. It was amazing and awesome and fantastic, but hard to describe. The culture was incredibly different from that of the US and even Spain, but there were elements that were the same. I'm not entirely sure how I'm going to organize this post, chronologically or by topic, but I'm gonna just go with it. I may post the itinerary so you have general idea, but it may be easier to flow from topic to topic. Also, here is the link to my awesome facebook album! I may add more photos to this, or add another link, because there was one day when only 2 people were allowed to take pictures, and I wasn't one of them. But you'll see them eventually.
Ok, so. Morocco.
I apologize if this is less detailed than my normal posts... it's been a while and I haven't really had much time to write about Morocco. So here it goes.
Saturday morning we woke up to the phone in our hotel room ringing for our wake up call, ate a pretty legit breakfast in the hotel, and got back on the bus to drive to Tarifa, the main port for ferries from Spain to Morocco. In Tarifa we met our guide, Jess. She's a visual artist who has been living in Morocco for several years, but has lived in tons of places and is originally from Wales. She gave us a quick orientation on the ferry, and we chose our team name: Team Guay (guay is the Spanish word for cool). Soon enough we could see Morocco, and landed at the port in Tangier
After taking a walk through the market, learning a few Arabic words (llhumdullah is thank God, and shukran [or something like that] means thank you) we visited a women's center called Darna, or 'Our House'. Darna offers French and Arabic literacy classes, and many skills classes to help the women of Tangiers get jobs to support their families. We got our first glimpse of Moroccan hospitality, and were given copious amounts of tea and pastries while talking to a few girls about our age about life as a woman in Morocco. We ate lunch there, too; it was a salad and chicken tajin, which was delicious.
Since we were spending the night in Rabat, we left and got on our mini bus with Jess and Eva, our IES staff member, and hit the road. I was dozing a bit, and when I opened my eyes for a look around, I saw camels on a beach. Well that's cool, I thought. Then the bus slowed down, and I realized this was it. We were going to ride the camels. Despite the fact that Andrea and Casey were surprised that I actually got on an animal that big, I love animals (except weird ones like the Gibraltar monkeys... or snakes), and I've ridden horses and even elephants before without being scared. And camels are sort of like horses (much smaller than elephants), just taller and with weirder joints. When you get on the camel it's sitting down on the sand. The trainer tells you to hold on tight and lean back, then the camel lifts its butt all the way, straightens out its back legs, then stands up on it's front legs too. It's a little scary, and the way down was 10 times worse, but it was worth it. I was so high up, but not afraid of falling. The ride lasted far too little time, and before I knew it we were once again on our way to Rabat, the capital city.
As soon as we arrived in Rabat we were introduced to our host families, and taken home to rest and have a snack before being led on a tour of the Medina (old city) by our host moms. We had been told that at least one person, be it a parent or teenager, would speak pretty good English. Well, let's just say it's a good thing I took 3 semesters of French, because our host mom, although super sweet and hospitable, was not an English speaker. She gave us tea, cake, and bread for a snack, and after the walk she fed us more tea and also a strange pasta dish, which consisted of cut up angel hair with cinnamon and powdered sugar. Weird but delicious, and served, of course, with more bread.
Our host mom had 2 kids. One was 7, and I don't remember his name. The other, whose name was pronounced 'said' was 2 (I think...) and was attached to his dad's iPad, and watched Tom & Jerry and Justin Bieber the entire time we were there. We didn't get to meet our host dad, because he was in America, visiting Obama with the king of Morocco, for whom he is a bodyguard. No big deal.
Before I continue, I'm going to go completely out of chronological order and talk about Moroccan drivers. With the exception of our bus driver, who did his best to be safe and normal, Moroccans drive like actual crazy people. There were multiple times when we almost got hit by cars, saw people almost get hit by cars, or actually see someone get hit. Luckily, the latter only happened once. Back on track, now.
Breakfast was tea with bread, jam and little biscotti-like cookies. After breakfast, we visited another NGO, called Hope for Saleh (no idea how to spell it, pronounced 'sahlly'), which plans events for people in the shanty-town of Saleh, and teaches boys and girls how to read, write, cook, and gives them skills to get jobs. We talked about politics with a few of the employees, and eventually digressed to religion and modesty and how women dress in Morocco, and it got a little awkward when one of the Moroccan guys started saying that men can't even resist women's eyes because they 'look into them and it's like you're lost in an ocean', so of course they should cover the rest of their body. We also visited some Roman ruins/early Arabic ruins.
That being done, we had lunch at our homestay (by the way, the homestay 'we' was myself and 2 IES girls, Kelsey and Nora), with our hostmom's niece Sarah. We ate couscous and bread and had sour milk. Yes, sour milk. Seriously. Not like, oops guess the milk is sour, but the let's-let-this-milk-go-sour-then-drink-it. It's a thing there, apparently. Definitely a taste I have not (and hope to never) acquire. We also tried on some Moroccan wedding dresses, which can be seen in my album (link at the beginning of the post).
My favorite part of the whole trip happened that night: the Hammam. A hammam is an Arab bath; I can't remember if I've posted about them before, because I've seen about 6 for Islamic Art, but basically it's a girls- or boys-only space with hot and cold water taps, where you clean yourself. Moroccans don't really have in-house showers, so they go to the hammam about once a week. This may sound gross, but you get so clean there that it really isn't; Moroccans may have surface dirt but their skin is clean. Anyways, our hostmom's niece, Sarah, was our hammam guide, and took us (me, Nora, Kelsey, Kassie, Bethine, and Clarissa) to the one she normally goes to.
Basically you get a scrubbing mitt and soap (we also brought shampoo and whatnot), go upstairs, and strip down to just your panties (hence no boys) and scrub for an hour or two. We helped each other scrub our backs, we got massages, and we came out cleaner than ever before. I don't exaggerate; not since the day I was born have I been that clean. I wish the US had hammams (authentic, not touristy ones) so I could repeat the experience. The best part was how casual it all was. When we walked in, there were maybe 3 women there, and one was completely naked but it wasn't a big deal. We didn't sit there judging each other for our bodies, or acting weirded out at the other people, we just cleaned ourselves and got over it. Before we went I was told that Moroccans are very comfortable and intimate within their own sex, and I really understood the extent of that after I went to the hammam.
Once we had removed the top 3-10 layers of skin, we got henna done. Henna is a plant that is ground up and mixed with water, then applied to the surface of the skin with a (blunt, they're not piercing the skin) syringe, to better control the flow of the paste. You leave it on for 2 hours to overnight, and once it comes off it leaves color where the paste was. This typically lasts a week to 10 days, but I will say that the last traces just faded from my pinky, and I got it done 3 weeks ago. This supposedly means that I will have good luck, because the longer it lasts the longer you will have good luck, and I guess it's working. I have had an awesome last few weeks.
Dinner was a spicy minestrone with tea and bread, and the next morning we headed off, eventually to Chefchaouen. We stopped first at the mausoleum that holds the current king's father, uncle, and grandfather, as well as a mosque that was never completed because a)there was an earthquake, partially destroying their work, and b)the king who financed it died.
Two hours later we stopped in Ouissan to have a tea break and go to the market to buy the salad, bread, and other staples for a picnic we were having with a rural family later that day. Kokaale and I volunteered to go with Jess to help carry the produce, and it was amazing. I apologize in advance for the non-structure of the next few sentences. Everything was so colorful. The smells. Spices in piles like mountains. Live chickens, clucking happily next to their dead and plucked brethren. Halves of beef hanging from the ceiling. Fresh. Delicous. The vendors would give us samples of their food, and we eventually made it out without letting our chins totally drop to the floor.
When we got to the family's farm, the girls (the boys played with the family's 6 year old) helped prepare lunch by cutting all sorts of veggies and things: tomatoes, carrots, peppers, avocados, cucumbers, strawberries, bread, and something else whose name escapes me. The family provided couscous. We had veggie sandwiches with soft cheese. They were delicious. The carrots were the sweetest I had ever tasted, the bread was delicious. I don't even have words for how good all of this was. Sincerely. Dessert was oranges, and they were super sweet, but less tangy than in the US or Spain. Delicious nonetheless.
After lunch we hiked up a hill nearby, to see the Rif mountains (technically we were in them but it was a good view) and the family asked us to sing. We sang a few songs, including don't stop believing and a whole new world, and they were so happy. It was amazing to see how much they took pleasure in the simple things around them.
Of the whole day, the funniest thing was the 6 year old, who was a total ham. He posed for photos, with expertise that would have gotten him the title of Morocco's next top model, which was hilariously surprising. He flirted with all of the girls, and gave us flowers. So cute.
Eventually and unwillingly we left, and headed to Chefchaouen. Once there we did a lot of shopping (the exchange rate is excellent) and had dinner at a real restaurant. I had couscous, salad, and for dessert (which we didn't get to choose) there was a type of thin yogurt, flavored with honey, almond, cinnamon and maybe some other spices. It was super super delicious.
On our last morning in Morocco, we met in the hostel lobby at 7:30 and went on a hike(ish) up a hill to see the landscape at sunrise. It was breathtaking, and a really good way to start bringing the trip to an end. We had 1st breakfast at the top, which was drinkable yogurt, dried figs (omg still have those) and almonds. The almonds in Morocco, by the way, were some of the best I've ever eaten. Super buttery and sweet. Second breakfast (so what if we act like hobbits on vacation) was in the town square, and it was orange juice, tea, and some type of bread with honey, butter, and jam.
Sadly, we had to end our journey shortly after, saying goodbye to Jess and crossing the border into Ceuta, a Spanish protectorate (?) in Morocco, then taking the Ferry to La Linea, and coming home by bus. So ended the trip. It was one of the most amazing places I've been, with some of the nicest people who tried to make me eat more than my Spanish host mom does. If anyone is thinking about travelling, I would definitely suggest a trip to Morocco.
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