In Marrakesh

Kim has come and met me in Casablanca. We spent the last couple days in Marrakesh which was very cool.

The centrepiece of Marrakesh is an open plaza called Djemma el-Fina which at night is packed with thousands of people. Stalls are selling freshly squeezed orange juice, other stalls have sit down barbeques, street entertainers include dancing displays, music displays, monkeys, colourful water vendors, snake charmers, children boxers. My main image of Marrakesh is that of the smoke, the thousands of people, the bicycles, and motorized scooters somehow pushing and prying themselves through this square.

Marrakesh was very busy. I called at least 20 hotels which were all booked up. So... guess what... we ended up using a tout to find us a hotel! So touts can be useful in certain situations. The first night we were able to find a room. The second night we could not find a room so slept on the terrace of the Hotel Ali.

Sleeping on the terrace was pretty cool, some other travellers offered us their little tent shelter that they had built the night before and did not need anymore. It was mostly a blanket, strung up between chairs. I don't know if it was actually useful, but it was nice to accept the gift anyway.

Marrakesh was very busy because it is a 4 day weekend in Morrocco. The birth of Mohammed was on Thursday (Awashar Mabrooka!) and there was a free rock concert in the square on Saturday night. We tried to push our way into the concert on Saturday, but it was just impossible. It was a big mosh pit and I caught a young boy grabbing the zipper of my backpack. Kim caught a young boy grabbing her.

We are now in Fes and have been wandering around lost today. I have found the answer to the question I had before coming here... Do people in Fes wear feses?

Tomorrow we will go have a look at the tanneries.

Robbed in Casablanca

I met these two guys in the park...

Though I should say that I have been meeting alot of very sincerly friendly Moroccans lately. Yesterday I spoke with a couple University students for about an hour and a half and if I go to back to Tetuoan I will go visit one of them. On the bus I met a friendly couple of teachers who teach in a rural school who gave me their addresses to go visit them. Last night I met a couple nice guys in Casablanca who also invited me to their home.

The day before I was invited twice to people's homes in Chefchaoen.

So last night after politely declining the invitation to the guys place, I started to ask myself if maybe I am being a bit too closed. Perhaps I should open myself up a bit more and experience more people and share more experiences. What do you think? Maybe our culture is too suspicious? Maybe it is just me?

With that in mind, I met a couple guys in the park I decided to really engage more. I talked for awhile with one guy and accompanied him to a cafe down some back streets. We talked about religion, philosophy and travel. He kept calling me his brother. His philosophy seemed very down to earth and more like Buddist than what I imagine Islam is about.

When I went up to use the bathroom I felt strange about taking my backpack with me. My backpack has my passport and camera inside. I figured that if he said something I would explain that I had toilet paper in the backpack and that I might need it (they don't use tp here).

Anyway, I finished my tea and he finished his cigarette and went to pay. He came back saying that there was a problem and wanted to know if I had change for 200 dirham. I didn't - I only had 120 dirhams. He insisted that I give it to him and he would sort things out.

As we left the cafe, I still had no sight of my 120 dirhams. When I asked him about it in the street he said not to worry. When pushed a little more he said he had already spent it on hash and alcohol.

So what do you do? You are in an empty street with this guy?

Shake him down?

Brow beat him?

Call the police?

How about philosophy. I said that if he was that desperate to compromise all of his personal principles - which we had discussed for the last hour - for 120 dirhams he could take it.

So we parted ways, me with empty wallet. Him with bad karma (maybe).

Then, as I am walking down the street, his friend from the park approaches me and starts trying to sell me hash! I explain to him that his friend had just stolen all my cash, but I don't think this guy's french is very good because he then starts offering to find me some Moroccan women or even some genuine Moroccan entertainment.

I keep walking. He keeps pestering.

What do I want?

Women? Hash? What do I want?

So I say I want the Gendarme, the Surete, the Police.

He says fine! We will go find them. As we approach a building that is guarded by an Army guy - I think he is Army as he is dressed in brown while the police are in blue. we go over there and start talking to him. I explain in french, but the Army guy doesn't know french. I wasn't even sure why I was talking to this guy actually, I was still a bit in shock about the whole 120 dirham thing but I think that this guy had the gall to continue hassling me pissed me off.

So the Army guy doesn't know french, but my hash pimp is translating something to him in Arabic. The Army guy motions for us to follow him back to the entrance of the building he is guarding. As I am following him, the Army guy turns around and starts running towards me!

My hash dealer had fled behind me! He was taking off around the building running as fast as he could with only an occasional glance backwards: Running so that his feet and legs were ahead of his body. Picture that!

The Army guy then calls out four other Army guys and by now two police guys guarding the other building across the street join the chase to the park.

Ok. wait. 120 dirhams is only 12 euros. And the guy they are chasing is just a pimp/hash dealer and only a friend of the guy that took my money. And now there is an armed - really! -squad of seven guys loose in the park! I don't know what they are thinking because the only thing I know the Army guy knows for sure is that the guy fled.

So I made sure that I explained the whole situation to the police guys who did speak french and they said I was lucky that I did not have my papers stolen. They were very sincere and apologized for the whole thing. They gave me directions to the Mosque and the beach. The Army guys eventually returned to their posts.

So on the way to the Mosque...

Guess what?

I met another guy.

We start talking.

He invites me to tea at his mother's house.

What do you do? Get back on the horse? Run away like a hash dealer chased by the Moroccan army?

So I went to tea. Everything turned out ok, but this even this guy was also a bit shady. He insisted that after our visit, I not speak to any more Moroccans and that he was a Saudi by birth and that there are lots of problems with tourists here. He also did not want to go all the way to the Mosque with me because of the Tourist Police. To me he was a bit too insistent and paranoid. Almost confessional actually. Like the idea that the people most fearful of being robbed are theives.

In the end, I am happy that this because it affirms that I should trust my instincts to be cautious if I want to. What I mean is that I had been cautious, but decided to override that instict with a desire for more engagement. I think I can still get more engagement and continue to be cautious. It's not a dichotomy, though I guess in my clumsy-learning-experential way, I made it one.

Starting to understand Chefchaouen

I am starting to understand Chefchaouen today. Sure there is a touristy area, which has it's pros and cons as a visitor, but it also has a genuine souq, market area, living areas which are very accessible from the touristy area. The market area, the alley ways and call to prayers reminds me alot of the Moslem area in Jerusalem. The souq, town reminds me a bit of Hebron. Of course I have not been to that many souqs - but it is interesting that the appearance and culture spans that distance from Palestine/Israel to here.

Anyway, I bought some green peas and some oranges from the souq. 5 Oranges were about 25 cents, half a kilo of green peas cost about 35 cents. I have been having fun with the big bag of green peas... When people were offering me kif or hash today, I tell them I have some really big bag of good, high quality stuff and try to sell them a pea pod. Presumably, The Surete Nationale won't have a problem with my peas.

This morning I went for a walk in the mountains and met a few shepherds. I just missed a goat calf - if that is what you call a baby goat - being born, but did get to see the shepard (probably 14 or 15 years old) try and encourage the goatee to feed from the mother. I walked across some plowed areas which are probably the kif fields. I did not take pictures - though - because I am a bit paranoid. Ok, I took a picture of the goat. But that's it!

All of the boys play soccer here. Constantly. I think they probably get up in the morning, play soccer, go to school, play soccer at recess, come home and play some more. Every flat place in the city (and in the beaches in Assilah) gets used for soccer fields. What is kinda funny is that they also play it in the steep alleyways and ramparts of the medina - getting in the way and getting in trouble. I have no transition for this - sorry - but their balls are all flat and soft.

The passeo is also a tradition here, as it was in Assilah: Everyone goes out for a walk between 5:30 and 9 to find out what is happening in the city. According to the Lonely Planet, this tradition is a carry over/import from Spain. What is funny is I spent over a month in Spain and did not see it there... Perhaps it is one of those old fashioned rituals that gets modifed at the source (say into tapas crawls) but doesn't change in the colonies.

from Asilah to Chefchaouen

I spent yesterday in Asilah again. Walked to the beach again and met some of the people I met the day before - One fellow kissed me on the cheeks. Besides that surprise, walking to the beach is always a relaxing activity.

Asilah is in the very north east corner of Africa. I can picture myself as a little stick figure on the corner of the continent. This image is helped - in my head - by memories of the video game Heart of Africa (and Seven Cities of Gold) which I used to play on the old Commodore 64. In Heart of Africa it would occasionally zoom in and out of the pixelly versions of Africa and African villages. As I was jumping into the Atlantic ocean (and bouncing back quickly because it is cold) I could just picture my video game equivalent doing the same.

But enough obscure video game references that maybe my brothers can relate to...

Along the trail to the beach (along the Atlantic Ocean) there are little military tents spaced out about every half kilometre. At first I thought they might be for people smuggling but a couple guys I ran into told me they were looking for hash trafficers. The couple guys I ran into were Morroccan and I walked with them for awhile, speaking Spanish because one guy did not know French.

Today I spent a couple hours speaking french with a guy named Abdazizi on the bus ride from Asilah to Tetuoan. He said he made the trip alot these days and invited me to visit him in Tetuoan if I returned there. Or in Casablanca which is where his mom lives. My french wasn't good enough to figure out what he does.

In Chefchaouen they do hashish. I am not going to mention touts anymore, but I will kinda mention that I ran into 4 very friendly people who were offering me only the best accommodations, grass and hashish. According to the Lonely Planet guide, Chefchaouen is marijuana country and it is therefore difficult to rent a donkey from August to October when the 'Kif' harvest comes around.

The cafes play Led Zeppelin and Bob Marley and the medina reminds me a bit of a typical mountain tourist town (like Whistler say). So I can see why it might be a place to have a good time.

Either way, I am not really interested in hash right now. I am thinking of either treking a bit in the mountains for a couple days or moving on. I have not decided. Chefchaouen has a really positive reputation for a place to visit - but so far I would rather be closer to the ocean. Though Chefchaouen also has a reputation for people coming for one day and staying a week...

There is a river somewhere nearby... maybe I should go find it.

Asilah

I am in Asilah now and spent the day walking to Paradise Beach and back.

After my last post I thought that maybe I should not have brought up the touts. I was thinking that they might overshadow the perception of Morocco as they are pretty much the first thing I wrote about. On the other hand they are the first thing you encounter when you get here. On the other hand they are just to be expected.

Anyway while on the walk I came across a German guy and we ended up walking together. We went for tea at a small stand and a local guy started talking to us. Eventually the local guy kept following us and wanted us to go to his hotel...And wouldn't go away.

I know, I know. It is the third tout today. And I wasn't even going to bring them up anymore. Ok that is it....

Morocco is very beautiful and inexpensive. My single room in my hotel costs about 7 Euros per night. My pizza and orange juice dinner cost 3.50 euros. Though my suntan lotion cost me 15 euros! My suntan lotion cost me the same as two nights accomodation!!!! (everything is in Morocco Dirhams, but Euros are what I am used to).

I have had a bit too much sun, and I don't know if my fancy suntan lotion is working (or maybe I put it on too late) so I might hit the sack early tonight.

Back in Africa

Or back in Muslim country, or in the gateway to Africa, or just Morocco.

I am in Asilah, Morocco on the Atlantic coast. I have only been here an hour so far, but so far so good. I like how green things are near the coast. It looked like there were some cool parks and fountains in Tangier. Also the Moroccan flag is pretty cool - solid red with a big green criss-cross star in the centre.

There were touts but so far don't seem as bad as those from Egypt. One followed me for a bit when I got off the ferry, until I got to the police checkpoint. Another pair followed me from the bus to my Hostel in Asilah.

In Tarifa

I am now in Tarifa. The southern most city in Spain and closest to Morrocco. The ferry to Morrocco takes 35 minutes from here.

When I arrived to Tarifa, while I was getting my bearings, I was approached by an older/elderly lady from Italy looking for a Hostel as well. The place she found was charging 35 euros and she wanted something for around 15. I offered for her to accompany me to the hostel (like a pension which is like a hotel, but with a shared bathroom) I was looking for. Unfortunately when we got there there was only a single room or a twin room available... what is the right thing to do in this case???....

So anyway, I am now sharing a twin room with a complete stranger tonight. Should not really be a big deal, but it is a bit different than from normal shared accomodation where it is less personal because the structure is set by the youth hostal.

The Tarifa beaches are long, windy and there are about 200 kite surfers out there practicing or surfing. There are a few windsurfers (10ish) as well. On the hills there are hundreds of windmills (those white modern ones).

I did an intro to kitesurfing in Vancouver and I think it takes a while before becoming useful or safe in the water. So I don´t think I will do any here and will be heading to Morrocco soon instead.

Back in the U.K. (technically)

I am back in the U.K.!

Well I am in Gilbraltar which is a U.K. town at the bottom of this huge rock. I got here yesterday - it is my first visit to the South Coast of Spain and of course this place is English. I had heard that Spain was full of fish and chip shops etc. but that is definitely not true of Barcelona, Madrid or Granada. I saw zero fish and chip shops there.

Gilbraltar does have fish and chip shops, police dressed as bobbies and the back machines only dispense British Pounds (though I keep getting Gilbraltar pounds as change - so they must be coming from somewhere). According to my guidebook about 80 percent of the population was born here. Based on my experience, Spanish is definately the first language, but everyone seems to know English as well.

Gilbraltar is an interesting visit. I thought the city was going to be at the top of the rock. But it is actually crammed into all of the available flat land at the base of the rock. On the rock there is a wildlife refuge which is full of birds and monkeys. Apparently this is the only place for wild monkeys in Europe. The customs back and forth between here and Spain is very lax. They seem to be mostly concerned about cigarettes going into Spain as everything in Gilbraltar is duty free. The monkeys were not as exciting as I had hoped. I actually did not want them to be anywhere near me because they smelled funny. They were jumping on lots of people though and could be coaxed onto your shoulders (for a peanut).

Gilbraltar is also very green. Most Spanish hills and mountains (including what I saw of the Sierra Nevadas) is very brown and dusty. However, being on the coast and having the rock as a cloud magnet keeps everything much more lush than elsewhere in the south.

It is pretty small and self contained too. The airport landing strip crosses the roadway into the city... So what they do is close the road for the 3 flights a day that land and take off here. It is pretty strange to cross customs, then walk across an airport runway to get to the city.

After Gilbraltar I am thinking of visiting Tarifa (windsurf capital of Europe) or seeing if I have time to go up to Lisbon before heading down to Morrocco.

Living in Granada

Well I have not posted for awhile...

I have pretty much been living in Granada for the last month. I am taking Spanish lessons at a school here in town and I am learning more and more Spanish each day. That said, these (human) languages are BIG! And I have the worst memory for new words. It takes me a few times using a word in a real situation before it sticks.

I am living in a small room in a Spanish lady´s apartment. Carmen and her daughter live together here and rent out two rooms. Last week there was an American here as well. I am not really touring so much as living here... I have been to the doctor and to the dentist. I am running out of contact lenses so I might need to go to see the optomotrist. Paying the bills and going to ´work´. Though no taxes yet :)

My daily routine looks like this...
7:45AM wake up. Hopefully not hungover, or still inebriated, or without having done my homework.
8:00AM Have breakfast (desayuno) with Carmen. Always have coffee and tostadas con tomate. The tostadas con tomate is a Andalucian standard. It is grated tomato, spread on toast then drizzled with olive oil, finished with salt.
8:20 AM Take shower, make bed. If necessary do my homework.
9:00 AM Grammar class with Pepe. Technicalities of the language. Over the last few weeks we have been going through the present, past and future tenses. Regular verbs, irregular verbs. When and how to use Me Gusta vs Paracen. How to use Hacer.
10:30 AM Break. Usually check the internet or go for a coffee with the rest of the class at the local cafe. Carmen makes a very strong coffee because they normally water it down with milk - but because I don´t water down mine I cannot handle more than one per day.
11:00 Conversation class. Sometimes discuss vocabulary, sometimes play games.
12:30-2:30 School is done for the day. Usually check the internet and run some errands.
2:30-345 Comida (lunch) with Carmen. This is the big meal of the day. Vegetable, starch, meat dishes. Carmen makes a very good Comida and I am lucky to be able to have non-restaurant or ´real´ Spanish cooking. Paella, Ham, Tortillas, Eggs and Bacon, Pasta, Mushroom thing are some of the dishes I can remember.
345-530 Siesta.
530-900. Some times homework, sometimes school activities (like watching videos) etc.
900-2AM Usually ´La marcha´ or going for Tapas. Basically it is like a pub crawl with free food. Anytime you order a drink in Granada you get some free food. For example last night when ordering beers we got bagels with ham and cheese. The next round of beer came with small hamburgusas. I forget if I described tapas already, but they are a unique and important part of going out in Granada. Spanish people normally say they are going for Tapas when they mean they are going drinking. I and probably other students say we are going for drinks. And when the rounds start, the next round is triggered by a shortage of food or beer and not just beer as it happens everywhere else. Free tapas and the siesta are classical parts of Spanish culture which are still alive in Granada but less so in Madrid and Barcelona.
12, 2, 4 AM Go to bed.