10 years of my life or Spring Break the rest

...On to Ouarzazate we went!

The bus ride from Merzouga in the Sahara desert to Ouarzizate lasted about 7 hours if I remember correctly. We went through an amazing transformation of landscape. From dry desert sand dunes to green luscious valleys, to cold barren flats with huge snow covered mountains jutting up from behind. We struck up a conversation with a Czech boy, or should I say he struck up a conversation with us. He turned out to be an interesting guy who had lived in Alaska for 4 months as a fisherman and India for 2, we even have an invite to his place in Prague next time we're in the neighborhood. We arrive in Ouarzazate at around 4:30 and went straight to our hotel. We spent the evening walking around the small city center.

We stumbled upon a rural women's art gallery of sorts. There was everything from soap and oils, jewelry and carpets, and pottery and at great prices. We each bought something. We settled into a restaurant near our hotel for dinner and made instant friends with the waiter. He spoke barely any English so we taught him some and he taught us some Berber. Then he brought us free tea and cookies after dinner. He even walked us to our hotel after and invited us back for breakfast on him.

The next morning we learned that there was no hot water for the shower, which shouldn't have been a surprise on account of we were paying 50 dirhams the equivalent of $6 a night. Alas we would have to go one more day with sand infested hair. Our sandy selves packed up and headed to our new friends restaurant for breakfast. We enjoyed a free breakfast with our friend while looking at some pictures of his village which really were his facebook profile pictures which started to get weird when they turned into google image photos of "love" written in the sand and flower petals (romantic much?). Soon it was time for us to leave and Simo, our new friend offered to walk us to the bus station since we didn't even know the way. He mentioned something along the walk about tourist police and to say he was our friend but we payed little attention. Before we knew it we were at the bus station saying our goodbyes when two huge thug looking men approach our friend and start man handling him. He quickly gets out his ID while we stand there dumbfounded and Robin manages to tell them that he is our friend simply helping us but they basically ignore us. Long story short he was taken away to a building across the street and we were of course traumatized. Eventually Robin and I decide to intervene somehow and head to the "police" building. At that moment the two "cops" come out with Simo, get in a car, and drive away. We are all in complete shock, feeling traumatized, and quite guilty. Thus the bus ride to Agadir began this way.

(Sidenote: We have since contacted Simo and he is fine. He was simply taken back to his restaurant and given a warning. It turns out someone at the restaurant next door reported him. Competitive much?)

We arrived in Agadir after dark, got a taxi and checked into our hotel. We got some quick dinner and settled in to our hotel room. Hot showers and an english movie channel and we were in heaven.

Goodbye sand infested hair. Alas I awoke the next morning to a sandy pillow. It seems sometimes I forget that I have 3 times the amount of hair as a normal human thus it holds 3 times as much sand and takes 3 times as long to clean. After breakfast we walked to the beach and were quite surprised to find a resort laden and scanty clad leathery European covered beachfront. Everything that Morocco is not in one beach area. However at this point in our vacation and time in Morocco this is just what we needed. We hurried back to the hotel, stopping at a bookstore and fantastic buy anything store called Unipurix on the way. I then left the hotel in just a dress, no leggings! This way not sound like a big deal to you but for me, in Morocco, as a girl and a foreigner, this is a big deal. It felt strange, I sort of freaked out, then we got to the beach and I felt normal.

We spent the rest of the day sunbathing on beach lounge chairs for 20 dirhams all day. We read, we slept, we turned like sundials with the changing angle of the sun (optimal sun exposure you know?).

We took a leisurely walk down the beach at 4 and basked in the life where that was our most important appointment. That night we made an unsuccessful attempt to got to the piano bar and various other clubs but all were either deserted or too creepy to enter. We settled for the english movie channel showing another of the most terrible english movie ever made. Friday nearing the end of our Spring break saga we hit the beach early and spent the entire day baking. We payed the price after with red painful bodies. The day was beautiful, peaceful, and relaxing, just what the doctor ordered. After our daily walk along the beach we got heaping bowls of ice cream and watched the sun set over the water.

That night was the perfect culmination of our whirlwind, 10 years of my life, week. We ventured to the tourist restaurants along the ocean walkway and found one that was looked active and fun with a french lady singing.

The next three hours were a blur of insanity. There was a drunk crazy french man who was laughing and dancing and trying incessantly to kiss an Australian lady in front of her husband. Then he got dragged away by a mean looking Moroccan guy whom we assume was an undercover bodyguard. The French lady kept singing and a troop of classical Gnawa music players came and played with her. Then a magician came up and did some crazy tricks, one of which included taking a woman bra off, somehow. Then the french man was back sitting at a table with a little Moroccan boy and his mom yelling badly spoken darija loudly. Soon he and the women who got her bra taken off were up front dancing up a storm to a new band that was playing. Another man joined them who was dancing real crazy like. Meanwhile the Moroccan waiters were dancing, singing, running around being crazy and bringing us so much food. We were then brought some free tea, as usual. To top things off as we were leaving a waiter came up to us asking us how our meal was, where we are from, etc. He said he wanted to know what something in english meant that he'd heard from some American army men. He then blurts out, "Fo shizzle my fucking nizzle". We immediately start cracking up and try to tell him that it is funny, doesn't really mean anything, but has a bad word in it. He assures us that he will not say to to women then. We left feeling reassured :)

Finally came the day to return to Rabat, home sweet home. The travels were hot and painful (sunburned bodies) and I was grateful to be back home with my family by the time we finally made it. Transition back into the real world was rough, especially once Monday came. I felt like I had been gone for 10 years of my life in that one week of amazing adventures. Even though I wrote this super long blog there is no way to ever describe my Spring break 2011 to anyone, it was too zween!

10 years of my life or Spring Break the first half

To put it simply my Spring Break a few weeks ago lasted all of one week but in reality felt as if 10 years of my life had passed. Really it was an indescribable experience that in no way can be accurately described in a blog post. But you know, i'll try my best.

The first part of Spring Break I went to the Sahara desert to ride on camels and camp in the desert for 3 nights. It is the craziest, sandiest, wildest, free-est, dirtiest, most epic thing I think I have ever done. We hopped on top of our camels at 4 Saturday evening and rode, bumpily, into the never-ending dunes of the Sahara.

Well it turns out they did end somewhere and we got to that point. The dunes ended but the desert went on, in fact right up to the Algerian border. We "hopped" off our camels here and ran around the dunes until sunset. The rest of the night we spent with our wonderful guides whom we become best friends with instantly. Mustapha is a fun loving desert nomad who is also a rock star, but actually, he plays in a desert blues band. Ahmid didn't speak much english but made delicious tagines in the middle of the desert, had the biggest smile always on his face and ran around participating in all our shenanigans. So the first night at camp we drank tea and sang songs. Then we sat under the stars by a campfire telling jokes and listening to some awesome desert blues music.

It was perfect. The next morning we awoke to Mustapha's clapping at 5 am so we could watch the sun rise over Algeria. Later we trekked on the camels for a few hours, at this point starting to get sore. Our camels all had nicknames some that we gave others than they already had, mine was affectionately named Rex (my doing) Bob Marley (Mustapha's doing no doubt). Midday we stopped laid out some blankets and stayed for 4 hours! Now I'm not exactly sure all we did, it seems this starts to happen in the desert. I do know this is when we started to go insane! We ate lunch, drank tea, wandered, drummed, sunbathed, napped, sang for at least an hour straight every song we could think of, made capes, flew like super-hero's, wrapped ourselves in turbans, and various other insane-like activities.

Then we continued on to a Berber village. We walked this time leading our camels. We passed a wild camel and her baby on the way. The baby camel was as is any baby thing, the cutest thing ever!

The Berber village had about 5 homes all made of dried mud, as all buildings in the area are. We stayed in a small room of one. It was an active neighborhood. Little children running around playing, goats and chickens, women carrying clothing and food in and out, clotheslines swinging in the wind, all on barren windswept land of the Saharan desert. For dinner we had a delicious huge bowl of cous cous and then told jokes, taught Mustapha english, enjoyed Ahmid's drawings, and played with candle wax until we slept. The next day was spent at the Berber village. We ate Berber pizza which is kind of like a huge calzone filled with delicious vegetables.

Then we went a long walk across the desert to find the camels which wander at night. We wore Mustapha and Ahmid's wool djellabas and collected rocks, climbed a tree, and had plenty of fake karate fights.

We left and trekked back to the sand dunes. We left our camels close to camp to be taken back by Ahmid and instead headed to the Oasis with Mustapha. I can now clearly say that we were in the depths of insanity. It was at this point that I began to feel like I had no other life besides the desert, I had been born there, and possibly raised by a pack of wild camels. We made our way to the Oasis where we met our friend Becca and her sister who had just embarked on their desert journey.

There was clearly a divide when we realized they could still carry on a normal conversation and we were reduced to giggles and mindless jokes. We soon ran off headed for camp. We ran up sand dunes and jumped down the other side. We experienced Berber skiing also known as Mustapha grabbing your legs and pulling you down the side of the sand dune full speed ahead. We made it back to camp and spend the night much like the others except our tiny room was crammed with twice the people. We sang songs, drummed, took pictures, laughed (a lot), ate tagine, and surprise incident, Becca's sister's scarf caught on fire after she said, much to our amusement later, "Man it's hot in here". I'll spare you the details except to tell you that she and her scarf are fine. The night ended with us laying on blankets under the most incredible night sky of my life listening to Mustpha's beautiful desert blues. Perfection.

The next morning was not as perfect. We woke up at 5 am to a cold morning and unhappily (and quite uncomfortably) got on our camels one last time. The ride was a mixture of terrible and wonderful. For one, my butt was extremely sore from 3 days of bumpy camel rides and I had sand in delicate places, but I also got to see the Sahara desert transform from a dark magical starry night to a beautiful morning sunrise. Quite a magical experience.

Back at the hotel we ate breakfast, used a toiled (big deal!), took showers, and headed to our early morning bus. I found that I was sad to leave and say goodbye to our new friends, Mustapha and Ahmid, and to the Sahara desert that had stolen our hearts and possible our sanity (in a good way). But alas we boarded a bus en route to our next destination of Ouarzazate....

Carnival, when I turned 21 in Espana!

On Monday I turned 21 and I headed to Cadiz, Spain the Friday before to celebrate. We left right after class, no point in wasting time, and caught a train to Tangier. The first leg of our journey and only one of many forms of transportation. By the time we reached Cadiz at 11 that night we had been traveling for over 12 hours by train, taxi, boat, and bus. We also somehow took a free bus about an hour out of our way upon arrival in Tarifa. Mashi Mushkil, we made it to Cadiz safe and sound and met some friendly and helpful American travelers along the way. My friend Leah, one of the girls I was traveling with, has an uncle who lives in Cadiz and he graciously invited us to stay with him for the weekend. He met us at the bus stop and walked us to his flat nearby. I should tell you one of the main reasons we decided to go to Cadiz this weekend was for their annual Carnival, one of the most famous in Spain. Cadiz Carnival is a two week long fiesta in the streets of Cadiz in which the entire city, and more, come to celebrate, drink, dance, sing, and above all dress up. The carnival, and Cadiz in general is known for it's witty, satirical costumes and singing groups. These groups practice all year long and go through many contests to make it carnival where there are groups performing in hilarious costumes on ever street corner and on stages in all the plazas. So this was the atmosphere of our weekend.

The night we arrived was just before carnival began, everyone was at home watching the Carnival groups perform on tv. We relaxed at the flat looking at all of uncle tim's very Beatles-esque old pictures and listening to music. Uncle tim is british as is all of Leah's family.

Leah and I were given birthday challenge books from our friends with a place for a before and after picture and a list of 21 challenges to complete before the weekend ended. They included things like, "ride a moped", "get a group of people to sing Happy Birthday", "steal an item of clothing", "convince someone you're famous" and "convince someone it's your 30th birthday". So at about midnight Tim led us to a bar that he apparently frequents quite often and we spend the rest of the night there watching the singing contest on tv, giving arabic lessons, meeting random Americans, running behind the bar, stealing hats and face masks, and playing hand clapping games. We didn't get home until 5 am in true Cadiz Carnival fashion and only after stopping at a stand for some patatas fritas.

Saturday was the first full fledged day of Carnival but the real festivities didn't begin until night time. So in the morning Uncle Tim took us on a walk around Cadiz in the daylight.

The streets near his flat are narrow cobblestone, bright and colorful and filled with mopeds and fast talking Spaniards. In the plazas children were dressed up in all sorts of costumes and seemed to be involved in contests. We walked down to the beautiful beach and ate lunch there. It was here that I ate seafood and it was pretty delicious. I decided to make an exception for the weekend because really Cadiz is all about seafood so what could I do but experience the culture :) We walked through some parks, passed some beautiful churches, and got some ice cream before heading home for a siesta. We went back out later around 6 and the plazas were filling up with people dressed in crazy costumes with their bags of alcohol in tow. We got our gypsy costumes on at home and ate some frozen pizza and again didn't leave the house until midnight for the Spanish plaza.

It was there or around there that we stayed the rest of the night getting into all sorts of shenanigans. I somehow found a friend from home who is studying in Cadiz so we tagged along with her for a bit. I met some Spaniards headed for San Francisco and had a long talk with them and I accomplished at least 5 of the challenges off my list.

Sunday was slow to start but once we got moving costumes and glitter were on and we were ready to go. I dressed as a butterfly complete with glittery antennae and yellow wings. Everyone was out in the streets and crowded into restaurants.

We joined in walking around and trying to get food. At one point it started pouring rain so everyone hid in doorways until it let up. Later we found some more seafood and basically just wandered around with the locals. We headed back for a short siesta then back out on the streets. We walked across town to the water with uncle Tim in search of a firework show only to find that it was the completely wrong place and they had moved the fireworks for the first time in forever.We got some bocadillo de tortilla instead and walked once more across town. At midnight it was my birthday so we jumped up and down and ended up at a really great statue complete with fake fire. After that uncle Tim took us to yet another bar but we were pretty much dunzo so we headed to our traditional patatas fritas stand before retiring for the night at an early 3 am.

I woke up Friday not feeling exactly older. We had a full day of travel ahead. All went smoothy once again. We got to cut out the bus as uncle Tim drove us to Tarifa and we had a quick lunch there before catching the ferry. In Tangier we had a moment to grab a Tolberone and caramel Mcflurry from McDonalds, the only purchase I will be making there. I finally got into Rabat at 9:30 after a loooong day of traveling. To make my birthday complete I had a phone date with my dad and grandparents, a skype date with my boyfriend, and a skype date with my mom in which she gave me flowers, a happy birthday sign and a fruit tart! Thanks lovely friends and family for making my birthday wonderful and loving and something I will never forget!

Here comes the sun

Last Friday afternoon I found myself crammed up against the train window. All the Harry Potter like compartments were already full. It was a good chance to see the beautiful green scenery zooming by outside. We passed expansive valleys, farms, and small villages.

We arrived in Meknes just after sunset and found a grand taxi to take us the last 30 minutes of the journey to Moulay Idriss. The drive through the valley was pitch black except for the small splattering of lights in the villages, but it just so happened to be a full moon and the largest full moon I think I've ever seen. A friend of ours, Feysal, picked us up and led us to his guest house we would be staying in for the weekend. The guest house that is the equivalent of a bed and breakfast was set deep in the winding alleys of the medina. It was three stories of 450 year old beauty. It was impeccably decorated, a lounge room on each floor, hot water bottles on each bed, a kitchen and dining room for cooking, and a roof terrace.We dragged ourselves away from the beautiful home and headed to the main road for dinner. At 9:30 at night there were still crowds of people milling around and eating and having tea at all the "barbeque" stands. We sat down at one and ordered which mean me telling him that I didn't want meat which he amazingly understood and even identified as vegetarian and the others saying meat was fine. We had no idea what to expect out of the meal. The meal turned out to be the tastiest mixture of spices and veggies ever, and I heard from the other that the Kefta was to die for. We returned to the guest house and sat on the rooftop admiring starry sky before all falling asleep to a movie.

Saturday we woke up to homemade breakfast of a smorgasbord of all the best Moroccan breads with bowls of cheese, butter, honey, and oil for dipping. We all enjoyed steaming cups of real, strong coffee.

We headed out to wander around the saint village. The town was alive with people and we decided the best way to describe it was a buzzing town. We walked through many windy alleys and eventually found two young boys who lead us around showing us some of the great view points of the city and the beautiful mosque of Moulay Idriss. I found myself feeling more comfortable than I have felt anywhere so far. The boys who showed us around didn't ask for money and virtually no one harassed us. The day was also beautiful and we enjoyed breathtaking views. For lunch we went to the marketplace and where we gathered fresh vegetables, oranges, olives, dates, bread, cheese, herbs, and even some cactus fruit. We went back to the guest house cooked up some veggies and herbs and made sandwiches then packed it all up and headed for hike to Volubilis. Once we had climbed a steep incline and made it out of town everything was quite and peaceful around us. We passed high cliffs with caves, shepherds herding their sheep, and olive groves. It felt very surreal. At Volubilis, the roman ruins I have already visited we found ourselves a spot overlooking the green valley in front of us and ate our picnic lunch. After a few hours and the desecration of the mosaic below us by the olive that fell, we moved to a new spot to watch the sun set. And set it did, I found myself taking a picture every few seconds of the beautiful sky setting on the roman ruins.

A friend drove over to pick us up at take us back to Moulay Idriss.

Once we were back it was straight to the kitchen again and started sautéing, cutting, peeling, cooking all to the tune of the Beetles which we all sang along to at full volume. In the end we had produced homemade marinara sauce and some pasta.

The result was pure bliss. The rest of the evening was spend on the roof talking for hours and looking at the stars, watching American History X for the first time (SO good!), more time on the roof re-briefing after a hard-hitting movie, and cuddling in bed while Hila made us take personality tests. It was a night well spent with friends until the wee hours of the morning.

We woke early-ish the next morning to another wonderful breakfast on a rainy day. February 20, was to be the big day of protests in Morocco and with everything in North America that has bee going on, no one knew what to expect.

We didn't even know how to feel about the days upcoming events getting so many mixed messages. Our program had advised us to be back in Rabat by Saturday night in case travel was made difficult by protests, but did we listen? no. As we headed into the stormy day in Moulay Idriss nothing seemed different. We stuffed into a grand taxi with a total of 7 people and zoomed crazily to Meknes. Our taxi driver was definitely making some risky moves in and out of cars, passing on blind turns all in the rain. It's Africa! Needless to say we arrived in Meknes quite happy to make it out of the taxi and just a little car sick. We spent about an hour wandering looking for the train station and in the meantime passed two small protests didn't look like much. We almost immediately got on a train to Rabat and settled into an apartment with a small Moroccan family. We even talked to them a little about the protests, they thought that they were crazy and chose not to take any part in them. This time we actually got our own Harry Potter style compartment.

We had heard that the protests had moved from Bab-alhed to Parliament which happens to be right by the train station, so we braced ourselves. Outside the sun was shining and a large crowd of peaceful protesters were gathered. Some were chanting, some waving signs, others were just lounging on the grass. The little police and military I saw around were either sleeping or talking animatedly with protestors. A larger group of men were praying and there were food venders out taking advantage of the crowds. Basically normal life was going on around it all. No one seemed angry and it was a beautiful display of people exercising their rights. In a few other cities thing there was minor violence but often it involved looting and destruction of property that was not connected to the protests. I headed home feeling excited feeling that Morocco is such a unique place and that at least for now, isha'allah, the revolution in much of the arab world would stay clear of Morocco.

A week of firsts

Last week was a week of firsts.

I rode the bus for the firs time, home on Tuesday and to school on Wednesday. My friend Leah and I, who is an avid bus rider here hopped on and payed the incredible 3.60 Dirham price (about 50 cents). The other great thing about the buses here is that you don't have to have exact change, any amount will do and there is a always someone walking around taking your money and giving you change and a ticket. Of course there was another "medicine man" preaching his word but we found seats and were left alone for the ride. At one point the bus stopped but we paid little attention and continued talking. Eventually I Noticed the bus driver looking back and us but I couldn't tell if he was talking to us. As I struggled to understand I looked around the bus and realized that there was no one on it and that the driver was trying to explain we were at the last stop. We got of laughing at ourselves and made out way home, successful bus ride with more to come.

Taught English for the first time Tuesday night. Two friends and I headed to our service

learning organization on Tuesday night for out first english class.organization helps underprivileged youth and women mostly through education. We had gone once before to meet the President, a talkative goofy man, and check out the location and facilities. It is not much, a concrete building that is dark, cold, and damp inside. When we were there it had been raining so everything inside was wet somehow and we kept getting dripped on. We had brought some paper and pencils and a rough idea for a lesson plan. At first we had only a couple students. We had them write their names on name tags and then we introduced ourselves. We started by checking what level they were at and we really had so many different levels. Students kept trickling in for about 30 minutes so we slowly branched off into smaller groups and worked with the students more individually. We had students ranging from age 11-28 and all different levels of beginner. I worked with three rowdy boys and one girl. We practiced greetings mostly and a little bit on numbers and the alphabet. They were all so eager to learn and quick to catch on that I found myself being swept up in their excitement. It was quite exhilarating. We ended up teaching over about half an hour we got so caught up in the fun of teaching. At the end of class every single student ran up to us asking us for our facebook info so they could add us. What a world of technology it is today, crazy!

Got my first scrub down at the Hammam on Thursday. I've already explained much about the hammam a place which I love. I usually try to go once a week relax in the steamy room, wash my body and hair, and of course use the "kiis" to scrub off all my dead skin.

So far I have stuck to scrubbing myself and maybe the backs of the friends I am with. However there are women who work in the hammam and for a small price will bring you buckets of water and scrub you down. I had been a little wary of this experience watching the almost violent scrub down others get but my three friends and I decided to go for it, this was the day! It took some time and at least 2 languages to explain to the woman what we wanted but eventually she brought us some buckets of water and called over the first of us to lay on the mat for the scrub down. We all watched closely to see her reaction and though the women was scrubbing hard and at times she looked in minor discomfort she came out of it feeling rejuvenated. So we all went ahead one by one. When it was my turn I laid down the matt and she began to scrub my arms, then stomach, legs, back, and neck. Some places almost tickled me and it was rough but it was also wonderful. I came out feeling alive and tingly and the softest I have ever felt.

I rode the train the first time on Friday. Transportations around Morocco is great. You can travel by train, bus, or Taxi to basically anywhere. So on Friday my three friends and I met at the train station to catch a train to Meknes. We waited in the sunny cafe at the train station and drank coffee and orange juice while waiting for our train to arrive. We met an Australian man named Heath and an interesting American woman named Laura who wore a head scarf. There were teachers in Fes returning from travels for the Prophets birthday.

We made our way down to the train platform with them and soon realized that we simply had to ask if we wanted to know what train was ours. Eventually the oldest most rundown train we had seen turned out to be ours and we crowded on. The train was already almost full so we were left to stand in the narrow hall that runs along the compartments. Many people on the train seemed to think that if they kept moving down the hall either way they would find a compartment that was open which proved difficult when the hall was only wide enough for one person let alone a person with a backpack. Things settled down and we did find one seat in a compartment which we rotated sitting in. The scenery was beautiful, lot of green countryside and small colorful towns. And in the end we safely made it to Meknes by train for only 65 dirham ($8).

Then we were on to the next part of our journey to the saint town of Moulay Idriss for the weekend....