Monthly Archives: April 2012

A rainy day

30 Monday Apr 2012

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I needed a rainy day. Finally. A day to rest and re-group. And blog. I did nothing except that and it was perfect.

In the evening I went for an authentic Ottoman dinner at a place called Topaz. It was very good and very romantic. The view overlooking the Bosporus was amazing and it was great to watch the sky darken and the lights of the Asian side of Istanbul light up. And the suspension bridge between Asia and Europe (built-in 1973, I later learned) lights up in a variety of colors that change every few minutes. I really enjoyed it. The food included the following courses: Turkish yogurt soup w chick peas and meat ball, Fresh vegetables in olive oil, traditional film pastry w Turkish cheese “Ezine”, stuffed Swiss chard w minced meat and cracked wheat, sorbet to cleanse the pallet, baked lamb mastic flavored chargrilled eggplant w wild mushroom lamb gravy, finished with sour cherry compote! That’s what, 7 courses!? By the end I could hardly finish but am proud to say I finished it all except the dessert, which I’m never a fan of anyway. After finishing with mint tea to remind me of Morocco, I headed back to the hotel.

Stepping in to the taxi I fully intended to have the maitre de tell the driver the name of my hotel in Turkish but forgot. Consequently my 2 minute taxi ride turned in to a 20 minute one around and around with me getting frustrated at my lack of foresight to get the address in Turkish. That was the first of many frustrating taxi rides and I now know that I was powerless to make the situation better under any circumstances, Turkish or no Turkish. My hunch is those drivers are out to get me no matter what.

More touring, day one

30 Monday Apr 2012

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The tour group ate lunch at a place that’s open just for tourists and tours. The food is marginal and the only beverage included with the meal is water and every other beverage is exorbitantly expensive. I had water. We sat at tables of 8-10 and had to force conversation with people we either didn’t care to know or someone who didn’t speak our language. Or we remained silent (that’s what I chose). The guides all sat outside and smoked whilst they waited for us to finish eating. Everyone smokes. Up a storm. I wanted to go outside immediately since it was so warm and sunny but if I wanted to wait in the courtyard at the tables I was smoked out. And if I left the confines of the restaurant and its courtyard, I was accosted by merchants trying to sell me stuff. The best part of the whole thing is that it was across from the Marmara Sea – – a beautiful bit of scenery, especially with the sun. So I waited outside in a corner away from the smoke and watched the sea. Then they told us which bus to board. “You! Lady! You get on that bus!” So I’d board, find my spot in the back left of the bus, and wait to go to the next destination. In a way I liked being shuttled around, not thinking at all and not feeling the need to talk to people.

Next we went to other parts of the city: a little mosque near the Spice Bazaar. Beauty everywhere! And it doesn’t hurt that the sun was shining brightly. Here are some photos around the little mosque.

The tour ended with a visit to the Topkapi Palace. As well as a royal residence, the palace was a setting for state occasions and royal entertainments. It is now a major tourist attraction and contains important holy relics of the Muslim world including the Prophet Muhammed’s cloak and sword. The Topkapı Palace is among the monuments contained within the “Historic Areas of Istanbul”, which became a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1985, and is described as “the best example[s] of ensembles of palaces […] of the Ottoman period.” From the end of the 17th century the Topkapı Palace gradually lost its importance as the Sultans preferred to spend more time in their new palaces along the Bosporus. In 1856, Sultan Abdül Mecid I decided to move the court to the newly built Dolmabahçe Palace (I saw this on a different tour), the first European-style palace in the city. Some functions, such as the imperial treasury, the library, and the mint were retained in the Topkapı Palace.

Following the end of the Ottoman Empire in 1921, the Topkapı Palace was transformed by a government decree dated April 1924 into a museum of the imperial era. The Topkapı Palace Museum is administered by the Ministry of Culture and Tourism. The palace complex has hundreds of rooms and chambers, but only the most important are accessible to the public today. The complex is guarded by officials of the ministry as well as armed guards of the Turkish military. The palace includes many fine examples of Ottoman architecture. It contains large collections of porcelain, robes, weapons, shields, armor, Ottoman miniatures, Islamic calligraphic manuscripts and murals, as well as a display of Ottoman treasures and jewelry.

It’s a beautiful place. The grounds are gorgeous with an excellent view of the Bosporus. I saw many of the things mentioned above; it was beautiful. But I preferred to walk outside on the grounds and to look at the people and the views.

After the tour ended and I was delivered to my hotel, I decided to head over to the Ritz Carlton and enjoy some high living in the bar there. It was beautiful and I had a great experience sitting in the bar blogging, listening to music, watching the view on the Bosporus, and being treated like a queen! That’s always nice, temporarily.

Beware the Turkish man…

30 Monday Apr 2012

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…with the glint in his eye, the guidebook warned. Their flirting can’t be that drastic, I thought. How wrong I was! A visit to the Spice Bazaar that first day gave me a small taste of it. I had already experienced extreme flirtation earlier in the day but it was manageable. The Spice Bazaar showed an entirely new extreme. The shopkeepers, while charming and clever, flirt to the enth degree. For example, one guy smiled and walked backwards in front of me facing me while I kept walking. “Are you looking for me? Because here I am!” I laughed and smiled and nodded all friendly-like and kept walking. A block or so down he appeared again in front me, “It’s me! I’m here again! Don’t you want to stop and talk with me?” Again I laughed, but kept walking. Down another block or so, there he was. “I am before you again! I just keep being with you! Won’t you marry me?” Never once did I feel scared or nervous, just awkward and at a loss for words and impressed at their tenacity! And honestly, after day three of this, it became tiresome and something I had to build myself up for when thinking of going out. I contemplated a burqa at one point but was told by a man I got to know fairly well one day that a burqa wouldn’t help because of the light eyes – – and that I would just move differently through the market and they’d know I wasn’t Turkish, somehow.

More of what I heard: my angel, come back! “Do you love me? Because I love you!” “I must be in heaven because you are an angel!” “Please, don’t leave me! Come back by dear heart!” And more explicit requests and suggestions, but still never lewd or scary. Except when it was my hotel manager and he kept hounding me to go to my own room with him and to “make coffee for him by my own hand.” !! “You want hotel room coffee?” I asked him. “Hotel coffee sucks,” I said. “Not ours. Ours is very good coffee. Dark and robust,” he argued. (As if that might entice me!) This was my hotel manager! And he didn’t let up. I had roughly 15 minutes before being picked up by the taxi to take me to the airport when he suggested we go to my now-vacant room! It was crazy. That’s the situation that could have been potentially scary considering he’s in charge of my lodging. But even he was charming and sweet – – and incredibly hot.

But how would I like to be involved with men that are doing this every day, I wondered? While it was very fun and flattering and provided fodder for the blog and for my stories to friends (most stories I can’t write about here), I found myself thinking about the subtlety of some American men I know and the fact that you might know them for years and never know if he likes you as more than a friend or not! Ha. (these men shall remain nameless!)

30 Monday Apr 2012

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This blog is amazing! I have some of the same shots – – just not with the skill of photography this blog captures! Love!

Morgan Rana Photography

It’s been a month since I arrived back from Morocco and I think I’ve just about recovered! In my first post, Monkeys mountains and the Medina, I mentioned that everything in this diverse, vibrant place was enchanting and beautiful. As a result, I thought I should probably share a few more of my 4000+ photos.

I’ve gone for a less intense location for my next trip abroad, Berlin, but I’m sure it will still have plenty to offer my lens!

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Hey Laaaady!

30 Monday Apr 2012

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In Istanbul they call you lady. All the time. It was shocking the first time because it sounded so rude by our standards. We never call anyone lady in this country – – at least not really to their face. But in Istanbul they point at you and address you as ‘lady’. For example: You! Lady! Move! Or: Lady, you go there. It was off-putting at first and I never quite got used to it. Neither, apparently, did other women. I watched it happen to a few women and the expressions on their faces showed they didn’t appreciate it. After awhile it amused me but I can’t say that I miss it now that I’m home…

More of Istanbul

30 Monday Apr 2012

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After viewing Hagia Sophia, we walked over to the New Mosque, or the Blue Mosque, so called because of the blue tiles adorning its interior. While the Ayasophya is gorgeous and I loved it, I think I liked the New Mosque better. It is breathtaking inside with its blue tiles – – in various shades. And there are gigantic carpets inside that must have taken years to weave! Very impressive. And the thing is, this is still in use. So we had to remove our shoes and place blue paper shower caps on our feet. The domes of the thing are spectacular and the way the light shines in is brilliant. But what was also impressive to me were the thousands of black electrical cords hanging down to bring light to the massive chandeliers all over the place. Massive chandeliers! Spectacular! It was built in the late 1500’s. It all is just so amazing. And now since I’ve come home I’ve seen the image of this mosque in multiple places, including on the cover of this month’s Travelsmith mail order catalog for travelers. It’s like driving a certain car: once you get that kind of car you see them everywhere!

After walking around the grounds of the New Mosque it was time for the group visit to what I learned was customary for these tour groups: the set up. Today’s set up was to a rug shop where authentic rugs are sold “because you can’t guarantee the authenticity of rugs sold in the Grand Bazaar,” they told us. That was all just fine with me because 1. I knew I was going to buy one or more rugs, and 2. I didn’t want to tramp all over Istanbul talking to every shopkeeper before I found the right price for the right style not to mention the right design and color. So I happily sat through the formal session explaining rugs and quality and materials used, etcetera. And the whole while I sat there I knew, just KNEW that I was a mark for every sales guy in there.

It was obvious I was going to buy and I knew it. I wasn’t smiling or nodding or doing anything like that but I could tell those sharks were smelling my blood from the second I walked in. And it wasn’t until later that a woman who worked there told me I had a certain quality unlike my fellow travelers; a friendliness about me. While I’ve heard that before in other settings, I knew in this setting that that meant I was an easy mark for a sale! No matter how hard I try, I cannot remain expressionless. So be it. There was this older guy that kept giving me the glitter-eye. Ugh. I did not want him to help me. Then there was this younger guy with an engaging smile that I thought would be more fun. He’s the one who approached me as soon as the presentation was over. “Where are you from?” he asked. “Minnesota.” “My girlfriend lives in Minnesota!” he excitedly exclaimed. ‘Yeah, right,’ I thought. So thinking I was going to catch him in his own fib I taunted him with, “Where exactly does she live?” To which he replied, “Brooklyn Park! Where do you live?” What?! He really knew the area. He went on to talk about his recent visit last autumn where they visited the zoo with her nieces. I told him about my nieces (which I used in the bargaining of the rugs in the end) and he described more about the places in Minnesota he has visited, including Stillwater, St. Anthony Main, downtown Minneapolis, and the Mall of America. We actually had a nice little connection going and our enthusiasm with one another drew attention from all the other workers in the place. They gathered at the door 5-6 deep staring in with big smiles on their faces watching this sale go down.

Then the piling of the rugs began! Rug after rug was brought before me and piled upon the next whilst I sat sipping tea they brought me. I said ‘yay’ or ‘nay’ for each rug as it was spread out before me and soon I had the two I knew from the gitgo that I was going to buy along with three others “for the nieces” that they would throw in for free. I got a price I was happy with and one I’m sure they were happy with – – and one I’m sure my tour guide was happy with, since she gets a cut of all sales – – and they packed me up to go, all the while trying to pressure me in to looking at jewelry. I get what they’re doing and I’m all for it since I’m in sales, too. But finally I had had enough and told them I was starting to feel trapped and pressured and I didn’t want that so I was going to leave. I got the nod of approval from the head honcho when I said that so they let me go. He could tell I’d had it.

So I left and stood outside waiting for the bus to arrive along with fellow tour takers. It was then that the older man who had been giving me the googly eyes approached me and asked me to spend the day with him the next day. He’d “love to show me around and give me the desires of my heart in Istanbul” he promised. Ew. I muffled an uncomfortable or grossed-out laugh and thanked him as I took his business card with his cell phone scrawled on it. I reminded myself to be gracious and then waited a polite amount of time before rushing off to get out of his presence. I was able to walk around and take a few pictures of the surrounding area on a sunny day before getting back on the bus and heading to our lunch at a restaurant set up purely for tourists… Ah, a Gray Line Tour.

Of the pictures below the first two are the two rugs I purchased; the rest are ones I looked at.

Byzantium (a.k.a. Istanbul)

22 Sunday Apr 2012

Posted by in Istanbul

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Istanbul is one of the largest cities in the world. With more than 14 million people officially, real estimates are thought to exceed 17 million due to something having to do with the 2010 census and displaced residents. And the place feels big! Located in the northwest of the country, it lies on the Bosphorus strait and encompasses the natural harbour known as the Golden Horn. Extending both on the European (Thrace) and Asian (Anatolia) sides of the strait, Istanbul is the only metropolis in the world situated on two continents. The greater Istanbul metropolitan area held 18% of Turkey’s population in 2010. It ranks as the world’s 7th fastest growing metropolitan area in 2011. The Bosphorus, which connects the Sea of Marmara to the Black Sea, divides the city into a European side, comprising the historic and economic centers, and an Asian, Anatolian side; as such, Istanbul is one of the two bi-continental cities in Turkey, along with Çanakkale. The confluence of the Sea of Marmara, the Bosphorus, and the Golden Horn at the heart of present-day Istanbul has deterred attacking forces for thousands of years and still remains a prominent feature of the city’s landscape.

The first day consisted of a long tour around the city visiting all the hot spots: Hagia Sophia, The Blue Mosque, Topkapi Palace, the Grand Bazaar, the Spice Bazaar, and lots of driving around the city seeing all sorts of cool stuff. I enjoyed it. It was a Gray Line Tour, and those are generally good no matter where one visits. And the tour guide! She was phenomenal! Talented and well-spoken in many languages, I liked her right away and she me. I think I made her job easier because I was always at our meeting spots early and somehow assumed a pseudo-leadership role in the group because people recognized me as part of the group and stuck with me, even the stragglers. This meant that all of us were generally together and on time! (I noticed what a difference that was the next day when I took a different Gray Line Tour and didn’t assume any kind of leadership role.) At the end of the day I was the only guest left on the bus so got all sorts of time alone with her as she taught me all sorts of stuff about Istanbul – – the personal side of it, like where people prefer to live, where people party, best restaurants, the best tours to take, and other interesting facts. Granted, I didn’t get back until close to 6:30 p.m. but that’s OK since I learned a lot and had fun.

The first place we visited was the Hagia Sophia. Famous in particular for its massive dome, it is considered the epitome of Byzantine architecture and is said to have “changed the history of architecture.” It was the largest cathedral in the world for nearly a thousand years, until Seville Cathedral was completed in 1520. The current building was originally constructed as a church between 532 and 537 on the orders of the Byzantine Emperor Justinian and was the third Church of the Holy Wisdom to occupy the site, the previous two having both been destroyed by rioters. In 1453, Constantinople was conquered by the Ottoman Turks under Sultan Mehmed II, who subsequently ordered the building converted into a mosque. The bells, altar, iconostasis, and sacrificial vessels were removed and many of the mosaics were plastered over. Islamic features – such as the mihrab, minbar, and four minarets – were added while in the possession of the Ottomans. It remained a mosque until 1931 when it was closed to the public for four years. It was re-opened in 1935 as a museum by the Republic of Turkey. The place is gorgeous and massive!

And these posters show what’s underneath all the paint! Absolutely amazing. The last photos show where they’ve removed some of the paint covering a large mosaic at one of the entrances. The next blog entries will show other sites in Istanbul; too much to put in one blog post.

Ola, Chica!

22 Sunday Apr 2012

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Switch gears. I’m going to Madrid for about 24 hours en route to Istanbul. That’s just long enough to relax a bit, get organized again, eat twice and spend time blogging. So in other words, just what I needed! I was sad to leave Morocco and so easing in to Istanbul by resting at the Holiday Inn Express in Madrid was a good thing. And besides, they had a restaurant in the lobby where I could eat a hamburger AND have a glass of wine! Sa-weet.

After arriving at the airport, I easily found my way to where I needed to be. Whilst waiting for my luggage on the carousel I met other American travelers who had been in Morocco. I pretended to not hear them and minded my business so I wouldn’t have to share any of my experiences, which I now considered sacred. And after listening to the experiences of one particular couple, I knew we didn’t have anything in common. They stayed at fancy hotels and spoke about extravagant dinners. After gathering the luggage, I spent the next hour or so walking around aimlessly trying to figure out the transportation situation to my hotel “close to the airport.” It was close-by but it was still a complicated deal to figure out where to go, especially since I was misinformed by a couple of taxi drivers along the way. Eventually I was directed to a transportation counter on the other end of the airport where I arranged a van to and from the hotel. Not to stereotype, but now I’m in a Latin country and…well…I’m stereotyping…but I was blatantly hit on numerous times whilst walking through the airport, including by a driver of a different car than the one I hired who did everything he could to become my driver (to no avail). In hindsight it was good practice for Turkey! (Although nothing could prepare me for Turkey! Nothing!)

I rode with a local girl who has traveled extensively, including to Morocco, Turkey, and the States, so we had a lot to talk about on the 20 minute van ride. It was fun to be with her. I think I would have gotten together with her had I been in town longer, so that was nice. Once at the hotel I got situated and did a little laundry since there was a breeze and I knew the stuff would dry by the next morning.

The next morning I headed to the airport after breakfast via the van I had arranged and without further ado, I was off to Istanbul. The flight was roughly 3 hours. Once in Turkey I realized I was on my own. No one directed me where to go and no one carried my luggage. And there were no signs along the way pointing me in to the line I needed to queue up in. So I went through the whole, long line for immigration only to be told I needed a visa to enter the country. I knew this but I never saw any signs pointing me in the right direction. I had seen other people weave their way back through the line and I wondered what had happened to them and quietly sympathized with them their plight of bucking the line by going in the opposite direction like that. Well, there I was doing the same thing. Once out of that line I went to the correct line for the visa. Realizing I didn’t have much cash, I asked the attendant if they took a credit card for the $19 fee. “Yes, yes!” she assured me. But once in line the guy behind the window wouldn’t allow it and practically yelled at me for even asking if they accepted cards. So I dug around and found a $20 US bill and paid without having to hunt down an ATM. So walking past those in line others were asking me if they needed cash. Since I had been told no cards I told them they needed cash so many people got out of line and began searching for ATMs. It wasn’t until later, at the hotel, that I asked someone who had also just arrived about the credit card situation. Turns out he paid with a credit card! What!? So I kind of feel bad that I apparently gave those other people the wrong information. Argh.

I was so lucky to get a good taxi driver to take me to my hotel because it was a confusing mess to figure out where I was staying. Although it’s in a centrally located area, it’s on a complicated one-way street that’s apparently nearly impossible to find (I would later realize this again and again). Once to the hotel I was pleasantly surprised! A very modern and cool place! I could live there, I liked it so much! The guys who ran the place, Emre and Hasan, were super cute and young. And very helpful. One of them, Hasan, directed me to a nearby place for dinner in the Taksim, the local square where everything happens and I enjoyed kabob, wine, bread, and grilled chilies outside on the street! I loved the ambience and was able to get a lot of blogging completed. It was very comfortable and just what I needed. And it was a nice walk to and from the place so I was able to get the lay of the land and some exercise. Tres bon.

After returning to the Faros Hotel later that night, I was met by Emre, the other guy at the hotel. He arranged a tour for me the next day and made all the arrangements. I ended up staying at a different hotel for a couple of the nights and Emre continued to help me with all my travel needs during those days, too. He made reservations for me, talked to taxi drivers when I couldn’t explain where the hotel was, and answered questions I had about the area. Very nice. In fact, he’s still speed-dialed into my cell!

Insha’Allah إن شاء الله

22 Sunday Apr 2012

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I know a few words in Arabic; at least Moroccan Arabic, which I’m told is different from plain Arabic. I know how to say OK, beautiful, a little bit, straight ahead – – and it’s surprising how many times I need to say any of those words! My favorite word and my favorite usage of any word was Inshallah, or Insha’Allah إن شاء الله It was said in a heartfelt manner by nearly everyone at least once (if not ten times!) in any conversation. It means ‘god willing.’ Or ‘if god wills it’. I noticed it means that and more, including used for que sera sera, c’est la vie, etcetera. Insha’Allāh is said when speaking about plans and events expected to occur in the future. The phrase also acknowledges submission to God, with the speaker putting him or herself into God’s hands, and accepting the fact that God sometimes works in unexpected ways. It’s a beautiful phrase and used beautifully as well.

It was one of the last words I spoke to anyone in Morocco. When I said good-bye of course I cried like a baby. I can’t ever help it no matter how much I wish I could. At the riad I hugged every member of the group and we said sweet things to each other, acknowledging our time together. It was very special. Then Barbara, Mokhtar and I headed out. We dropped Barbara off at the bank to get some money and we headed to the airport where I lugged my luggage around inside trying to figure out the whole process. I’m glad because it took my mind away from the task at hand: leaving. I sat in a corner of a coffee shop and cried some more, then went off and spent the rest of my dirham on a few little things I had forgotten to buy along the journey, grabbed a French baguette and proceeded to the gate to wait for my flight, talking to no one. I had no time for chitchat as I knew I’d probably break down in tears. And besides, I had to mentally prepare for my time ahead in Madrid and then Istanbul.

So until we meet again, Morocco. Insah’Allah!

The perfect ending

22 Sunday Apr 2012

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There was only one more full day left in Morocco for me before heading to Madrid, then to Istanbul. It seemed so daunting to be heading to an entirely different country after this. A country with a new infrastructure to learn, money to figure out, language and social nuances to tackle, different food, etcetera. And I was leaving people to whom I had grown attached! So I made the absolute most of it.

The morning started with me making breakfast for my compadres in the riad. I had eaten the most delicious omelets in the new town of Marrakech and I wanted to repeat it for them. Once again, Mokhtar came to the rescue with the supplies and I was able to create a wonderful little breakfast before heading off to our day.

We visited the Marjorelle Gardens today. Although I had already been it was fun to return with the group. Mokhtar sent me on ahead as a sort of guide to get everyone in the place since I already knew it. So I gave a little synopsis of the place and we all explored it at our own pace. The Berber museum was particularly interesting; it’s something I had skipped the first time. And the lighting was even better this time around so I had the benefit of capturing some photos that I knew I had missed the first time around.

In the gardens I was able to spend some nice time with Susan and Marianne. Susan and I spent some time in the sun on a park bench talking and it was time together I treasure. Barbara gathered us together (no easy task) and we were on our way to the Ourika Valley, where I had already been on my first free day in Marrakech. I was happy to return! I love the Ourika Valley and it’s an easy trip from the city.

A sunny day when we started, it started showing signs of clouding up or raining. But we were able to spend the entire day without rain and I was able to take some great shots. We went to the end of the road and had lunch by the river: a delicious tajine, salad, and “dessert” of yogurt in a container but it was tasty and I wanted more! I noticed myself getting a little melancholy about the whole thing and decided right then and there to return soon so that I wouldn’t have to mourn the loss of the place.

The day was beautiful! The almond and apple blossoms seemed to be at full tilt and the poppies were out in droves! Other flowers bloomed in nooks and crannies of stone walls, on roofs of houses, and in gutters. It was really something. And people were out and about living life so we had a lot to look at and enjoy. We stopped at a potter’s store and he gave us a demonstration of how tajines are made; it was interesting. He whipped one up quickly for us; a perfect one! And we shopped. I bought a small tajine (for one) and two small bowls with silver around the edges. Just gorgeous. And reasonably priced, I thought. We hurried back to the riad so we could make our couscous dinner and have our last cooking demonstration. And we wanted to have time together to say our goodbyes, play some music and take some pictures.

Marrakech

22 Sunday Apr 2012

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At first I viewed Marrakech as just a big city. It’s full of character and beauty, that’s for sure, but it’s a big city with lots going on. But really, if I am honest, it’s more than just that: it is vibrant and active and full of variety. There are choices there that are not available in other places I visited in Morocco: choices of things to do, places to eat (there’s even McDonald’s!), stuff to buy, etcetera. There’s even peace and quiet to be found there. So while I say it wasn’t my favorite part of Morocco, it really actually was very enjoyable there. And it’s not a city like any other I’ve known. It’s more like a big town. It’s fairly easy to navigate and I was able to figure out almost always where I was and which direction I needed to go in.

There are a lot of tourists in Marrakech. That’s for sure. And nearly everything there revolves around tourism to some degree. Djemaa el Fna is the main square in the souq inside the medina. It bustles with acrobats, story-tellers, water sellers, dancers and musicians. There are shops all around it and by night food stalls open in the square turning it into a huge busy open-air restaurant. It’s beautiful and interesting but so, so touristy. I found that part rather annoying. So while I was amazed when I looked down at my feet and saw a snake charmer with his snake standing alert just inches away from me, I didn’t stop and take a photo; I just kept walking. When I passed by people in what some tourists might think as authentic native garb worn in the rural areas, I kept walking. I have been to the rural areas and no one dressed like that. So I guess I was a skeptic about the whole image trying to be portrayed.

The people are wonderful. Full of life and colorful. But I do not want to think of them as quaint. I don’t want to demean them to that level. They are people like me, living life to its fullest (or trying to), eking out a living and trying to be happy in their day-to-day endeavors. So for all of its touristy reasons, I didn’t like Marrakech. Everyone’s a sales person there. Everyone. I guess in life we are all selling something, but in Marrakech there was a push to buy-buy-buy. But when I stop and think about people trying to work, to feed their families, to find their own next meal, to live their lives – – then I am much more patient with the whole thing. But I don’t like the feeling that as tourists we have encouraged and trained some of the people to beg or to expect or to ask us for our money.

I think something like 1/3 of all the people are unemployed. That’s a lot. And so when I take a minute to put myself in that position, I think I’d be putting my sales skills to work, too! I’d come up with clever ways to get my next dirham; I’d come up with clever stories to tell of sickness, of motorbike accidents, of failed attempts at finding work.

On Sunday when we came back from Essaouira, we drove by the Kotubia, the minaret in Marrakech, and saw thousands of Moroccans out for the evening with their families. It was beautiful to see! There were demonstrations of some sort going on (as usual!) and it was exciting to be part of the energy of people standing up for the rights they believe are worth fighting for. It was fun to see lovers gazing in to each others eyes in the park mere inches from someone else doing the same thing. It was great to see and be a part of that energy! And the sun setting around the Kotubia was beautiful, too!