General stuff, just to keep my blog updated
The sickness is getting better, though I'm still baffled by the amount of mucus my body is capable of producing.
Classes are going well. Arabic is becoming more interesting now that I have the book. The Arabic teacher looks like my dad, which I find a bit humorous. He's from Lebanon, though. Sound design class today was a review of things I learned in Sound and Music physics class several semesters ago. Those were my only two classes for the day; now I am working till 4. Misha wanted me to ditch and go swimming, but I don't think I'm well enough and anyway I don't have my suit here.
Tomorrow I have playwriting class, for which I must write "an important story." Considering how open-ended the instructions are, I haven't really gotten down to business on that yet. For Development of American Theatre or whatever the offical name of Dev 4 is, I have to read some chapters out of a packet, which I'm not particularly thrilled about. Thus, my two options right now are to sit and be bored at the desk or read boring theatre stuff or write a story that I don't know what to say in.
Last night I amused myself at work by researching a band called
Outlandish. I was drawn to them because I saw one of their music videos while I was in Morocco. As it turns out they're Danish, with each member of the band claiming a different heritage, which is kind of cool. If anyone is familiar with the
Aicha video, they were apparently the ones who did that song, which was a cover of a French version by Cheb Khaled, who I also heard a lot of in Morocco. It all comes full circle, muah.
More Marvelous Morocco Photos
I've posted another online album. This one has photos of my recent trip, and can be viewed by clicking
here. I'm in the process of adding captions, so be patient.
Home again, home again, jiggity-jog
Back at home safe and sound, as of Tuesday night.
Monday night was spent in Brussels, due to a 20 hour layover. The train ride to my hotel was pleasantly prompt, and since my bag was checked all the way through I only had to keep track of my carry-on. Explored the center of town and the Grande Place, then went back to my hotel and had a salad at a nearby Turkish restaurant (the neighborhood was heavily middle-eastern, to the extent that it felt a lot like Morocco in terms of restaurants and merchandise--where else in Europe do you see whole rows of hookahs for sale?). After calling home, had a couple of tasty Belgian beers at the hotel bar while discussing my travels with two Moroccan-Belgian immigrants. Then it was off to bed to rest up for the following day.
The flight from Brussels to Chicago was 9 hours long--unusually extensive due to strong head-winds. In any case I survived it, despite the stuffy head I'd woken up with at the hotel. Note: Airport bathrooms are indispensible sources of tissue. In Chicago I went through customs. Declared that I'd been around livestock so they sent me through the "I have something to declare" line, which basically just meant they sent my bag through a special scanner and then sent me on my way. At this point I had to recheck my bag, which was utterly confusing and required the assistance of three different people until I finally figured out what I was supposed to do. Arrived at my gate as they were boarding, which I would say is pretty darned good timing. Security was normal--nowhere near as strict as in Brussels, where I was not only questioned in detail before receiving my boarding pass, but also had to pass an additional security checkpoint (besides the regular one) in order to enter the "US Flight Zone," as I would call it.
In any case those are the stories of my journey home. Now I've started classes again, which is pleasant enough in spite of my head/chest cold. I just need to sleep a lot before the work load gets bigger, which it inevitably will.
Ta ta everyone.
Sorry for my absence
So much to tell, let's see...
Wednesday was Eid Al Kbeer ("the big holiday") which is where each Muslim family that is able should slaughter a sheep or a goat. In practice in Morocco, it's kind of like their version of thanksgiving--you get a few days off and you eat a lot of meat. People also seem to use it as an excuse for things, kind of like we do: "oh, it's the holidays, it's ok if I smoke just a little" etc etc. Spent the day in Chefchaouen, since I was convinced once again to stay longer than I planned. Indeed, I think it was better than travelling over the holiday; much less stressful and more comforting and relaxing. Unfortunately it eliminated my ability to spend much time in Fes or Marrakesh. I had two hours between buses in Fes, during which time I ventured into the Medina (sticking to the big streets to avoid getting lost) and was invited to come in and have tea by a Berber man who claimed he remembered my face. He greeted me in Arabic, which was what caught my attention. Actually it was a nice break from the hubbub of bus travel and the time I had spent with two (very) loud British guys on the bus from Chaouen. A few souvenirs in hand, I caught the overnight bus to Marrakesh, which was a mistake because it dropped me off at 4:30 in the morning. Tired and unwilling to venture to the Gare Routiere (main bus station) without certainty of a connection, I waited instead at the train station until 7 AM, thinking I could catch the Supratours (fancy-shmancy) bus to Essaouira. In fact the 8 AM bus turned out to be full, so I caught a taxi to the Gare Routiere and ended up on the sketchiest bus I've encountered in a while--guys asking for random 10 dirham tips, police stopping the bus and asking for bribes, people getting on and off the moving vehicle, and so forth. It was all good in end, but I'm quite tired so I'm off to catch some rest.
Bon soir everyone.
Top 10 Reasons Hotel Vejer is truly First Class
10) The "shower" is attached to the wall next to the toilet; thus the floor and the toilet get wet when the shower is on.
9) The room I am in has one window so tiny and high up that it couldn't possibly have been intended for seeing out of. It does, however, eliminate the need for curtains.
8) My room also has 2 beds, but only one blanket.
7) Although most doors have built-in locks, a number of them are secured with small padlocks instead.
6) The doors creak loudly when opened, and the whole building echoes.
5) To keep rain from coming in the skylight, a plastic sheet is in place, supported by a wash tub and secured with bricks. Nevertheless, water leaks in and makes the tile floor in the sitting room rather wet and slippery.
4) The hotel has two front doors. The outer one is kept open; the inner one can be opened by one person climbing over and pulling the latch while another person pushes on the door.
3) There is a large headshot of Leonardo DiCaprio adorning one of the salons, and little else besides a couple of stickers.
2)There is no light in the upper stairways.
1) The concierge is decidedly sleazy.
In spite of all this, I really do feel safe and at home here. It's not much worse than the typical Moroccan house, the shower doesn't cost anything extra, and the doors can always be latched such that no one else can open them. And anyway, it's only five dollars a night.
Addicted to the Rif...but not the Kif
Sorry. That title was utterly cheesy, but highly relevant. Since I didn't stay long in Tetouan, I've re-routed my trip and devoted some extra time to Chefchaouen, because it finally quit raining. Despite the residual mud it's actually quite lovely here. I've met two guys who have been the majority of my company. One works in the hotel where I'm staying and the other is originally from here, back on vacation from school. We hang out at retaurants, walk around in the hills, discuss politics, and (excepting myself) smoke kif. I get the impression that most people here smoke some kind of drug or another. Kif is cultivated just over the mountain, from what I've been told, so it's plentiful and convenient to people who live here as well as those who visit. I've been learning a bit about the details of it all--but don't worry, folks, I'm not becoming a drug dealer or anything. ;-)
I've decided my favorite place in the entire world right now is Ras al Lma ("Head of the Water"), where Chefchaouen gets its potable water from. It's a stream that comes out of a mountain (don't ask me how, I can't see that part) and then continues down through a series of cascades--some natural, some man-made. In any case it's really cool...I've always enjoyed structures incorporating water for some reason.
Well, my hour is nearly up, so I'll say goodbye until next time. Tomorrow it's on to Fes, but just for one night, and then to Rabat to spend the Eid al Adha (sheep slaughter, oh goodie) :-p
Ciao!
Tangier, Tetouan, Chefchaouen
Outside my hotel room in Tangier:
The girl I shared a room with:
We met on the train to Tangier. She's German, but studying in Spain; she spoke English and Spanish equally well, and would find herself speaking one instead of the other, which made her hard to understand sometimes. Her friend Mohammed found us the hotel near his house. He and she had some sort of confused relationship from what she told me. She was on her way back to Spain, in any case, as she was feeling very sick.
Here is the view of Tetouan from a rooftop terrace:
I was brought to this place by some guy who started talking to me in the Medina. He said he was a teacher of small children and that he was not asking any money. As it was difficult to shake him off my trail I had to go see his friends the rug salesman and the herbalist (this was all straight out of my guidebook--one of those scams where they try to sell you things; all I bought was a bag of cumin for my indigestion at the time, which was the whole reason I had gone walking in the first place). Eventually he finished the "tour" and asked for 20 dirhams, which is exactly what I thought he would do. I told him he was a lier (discretely, politely, but with conviction) since he had told me earlier he wasn't asking any money. He left me alone after I showed him quite clearly that I only had 2 dirhams on me, talking all the time about how he was poor and had three children. Whether that be true or not, I didn't have money even if I was going to humor him, and he shouldn't have lied to me.
Here is Chefchaouen the beautiful:
...and me, to prove I was here:
It's been raining ever since I arrived by bus; everything on my body and hand baggage is soaked. The saddest casualty of the rain was the corner of my journal--I've learned the downfall of using non-waterproof ink. Luckily not much was blurred. The hotel I'm staying in is nothing glamorous; I'll see if I can get him to lower the price a little. I took it because I didn't want to walk in the rain anymore, and all the hotels seemed to be full. Now the rain has lifted enough to walk around, which is how I came to this cyber. Anyway, that's all for now.
Kinetra and onwards
Yesterday I finally left Rabat after being delayed twice from my original itinerary. I took the train to Kinetra, just up the coast, where I know someone from last time named Himi. He's a student in English, so we have fun practicing together and he shows me around town. Today we went to the beach (Mehdia is the name of it) and after an afternoon nap we walked downtown, where I bought some odds and ends--Hammam things, specifically, which are hard to find in the U.S., especially Denver. I still need to invest in some cheap plastic brushes (about 30 U.S. cents each) which are good for the shower, and also for general purposes since I didn't pack a brush.
Tomorrow I will leave for Tangier, then on to Tetouan, along the northern coast and down into the Rif mountains to Chefchaouen (you'd need a map of Morocco to understand all this, but no matter). Tonight I think I will sleep well from all the walking, and from a few glasses of Cuvee le President. Not sure what time I'll leave tomorrow, but it doesn't matter as long as I have enough time in Tangier to find a hotel. Tetouan is close so I don't need to leave too early the next day.
Hope everyone is well.
more morocco pics
My host cousin Samir made a blog and I let him post some photos of mine. If you would like to see them go
here.
Happy New Year- Moroccan style
Hurray! Bon Annee 2006! Sena Saida!
Here is the cake we had at my family's house
Here are the people who were present
One of them was very drunk--can you tell who? ;-P Actually it was amusing; he insisted that I was his new wife (he already has one) and tried unsuccessfully to dance with me. I was pleased when I could finally escape and go out to Aurelien's apartment in Agdal (Aurelien is a Frenchman who works in Rabat; he's an old family friend). Abdellah and his friend Yousef were also part of the celebration to follow, the details of which I will not relate now, in the interest of those opposed to alcohol ;-)
In any case today has been a little more calm. Few things are open, which makes the streets pleasantly empty.
Until next time
Greta
