Fez Part 1: The Western Pub

I awoke at the crack of dawn Friday morning (before the call to prayer even) and headed to AMIDEAST to board a bus bound for Fez. The trip to Fez and Marakesh was going to be the first group trip of the semester. We boarded our mini busses and headed out for our weekend excursion. Our tour guide/historical background professor/father on the trip was Michael Peyron the most adorable white haired british man who truly uses those hilarious british phrases that we all use to impersonate brits. He actually told us to give him a "tinkle on his mobile". We made our way to Fez stopping at ever and any interesting place along the way, Michael Peyron's doingno doubt. The first exciting stop was to a small town called Azrou which means rock in the indigenous Tamazight Berber language. We only had about 30 minutes enough time for a bathroom break and of course a climb to the top of the huge rock for the which the town in named. I loved that all of our first thoughts was to practically run to it and then climb straight to the top of the rock. This trip definitely brought out the playfulness in us all.

After getting back on the bus we started going through an area called the "Wild and Woolly East". Basically this means the land becomes barren with forests here and there. Much less populations density but a high Berber population. We even saw mountains covered in snow and more patchy snow right up to where were driving. It made for a beautiful landscape. I almost forgot, we also drove through a monkey forest. Yep just what you would think: lots of monkeys, lots of trees, and lots of snow? We stopped for lunch literally in the middle of nowhere at a restaurant on what we'd been told by Michael Peyron was a "windswept plateau".

It pretty much was that with a little snow and some cute stray dogs. We sat outside for lunch of a delicious tajine, bread, and oranges. Of course by the end everyone was throwing snow balls, isn't that how it always ends when snow is near? After lunch we drove to a remote location in the hills for horse riding. On the way we saw Moroccans sledding, skiing, and even picnicking in the snow.

The horse riding stop was interesting for more than one reason. It is a result of heightened tourism in the area and a need for jobs in the Amazigh or Berber population. The horses are called Fantasia horses and are dressed up in ornate and colorful horse-wear. The moment we got of the bus the Berber men swarmed us with their horses trying to get us to ride. It was very overwhelming and sad, the desperation in their eyes and their need for money. The horses too were not being taken care of very well, they looked sad and in pain from their bits. It actually almost made me want to cry. But I decided to ride a horse, I don't really know why. It was crazy and scary and I think I nearly had a heart attack when he made the horse run without guiding it and when he made it jump up in the air numerous times without warning, at least none I could understand at least. But it was fun and I did at least provide some incomefor the men although I don't know if I support their business.

We stopped briefly at the side of the road for a wonderful view of the huge valley stretching out before us. Of course, as was the fashion of the day, we all jumped out of the bus and ran as fast as we could up the side of the mountain. The view was spectacular and we were all giddy with excitement. My favorite part of the day perhaps was when on the side of the hill we sang and danced to "Waka Waka" which had quickly become the theme song of our trip. It's time for Africa! We stopped at two more small lakes, both in the small college town of Ifrane. Before finally arriving in Fez at around 6 pm. As we were shuffling around the hotel lobby getting our keys and choosing roommates we learned that Mubarak finally stepped down and handed over power to the military, alhamdulillah! I hope some peace and reform can now come to Egypt.

I think at this time we all headed straight to our rooms and took much needed showers, showers are hard to come by in Morocco. A group of us then headed out to find some dinner. It was unnerving being in a city that we don't know at night with the usual strange men following us trying to give us directions (for money most likely) and I found myself missing our familiar Rabat. Finally after what seemed like much wandering we found a nice place called Sicilia where I got some delicious Spaghetti. After dinner we found some dessert and then settled at a cafe for some cafe creme before heading back to the hotel. All was normal of the evening thus far, but Morocco is never normal and you never know what to expect so inevitably there was something more no it's way...

A group of us decided we didn't want the night to end there and we had passed an upbeat sounding bar just around the corner from the hotel. So we headed back out luckily persuading one of the guys to go with us. We walk in the door a group of about 8 girls and 1 guy. Instantly all eyes turn to us and time seems to stop. It as a little uncomfortable to say the least. The front room is pretty packed with creepy Moroccan men and the music is blaring so we keep moving through the bar. There is a middle room and then we enter the next more tame part of the bar, on the wall is a sign saying "Western Bar". Right then a man walks up and introduces himself as if he's the owner, welcomes us, and says he is going to take us to a "family room" since we're such a large group. So we follow him through a door that leads to a back room with a pool table into another room with a table and chairs. We all sit down and he takes our drink order and a waiter brings us the usual popcorn and olives. We sit back there for probably about an hour talking and regularly remarking on how bizarre this is. The man helping us keeps coming to check on us, repeatedly welcoming us, telling us we are is family, and asking if we are good. He takes a liking to Nate because of his arabic skills and because he's from New Jersey? He also tells us about his families ceramic factory that we must come visit and take pictures at. Eventually we asked if we could go back out the main bar and we went out in small groups.

We went back to the Western bar section but not after heading toward the more boisterous one when all the men started reaching out and beckoning us forward. We sat in the Western Bar and almost caused a fight when the man helping us took a stool from someone else for us to use. We started feeling like it was time to go so Nate started to work out getting the bill. It was at this point that we started to seriously wonder if the "owner" actually even worked at the bar. He tried to get the waiter not to charge us but he refused, hmmm. So we paid and headed toward the front door. A man tried to say something to me but I brushed him off as another creep. As we reached the front door we realized it was closed up and the man had been trying to show us the real way out. We turned back and had to wade our way through crazy Moroccans reaching out for us. Finally we emerged back onto the street all in a state of awe and shock at the bizarre experience of the night. We laughed and joked about it on the way back to the hotel. Nothing was more evident of the night that in Morocco you never know what to expect.

To be Continued...