Morocco: Where do I begin?

Tags

, , , , ,

This trip to Morocco has impressed me as much as the first trip 5 months ago – – but in way different ways. The first time I had no idea what to expect. This time, I not only know what to expect (for the most part) but I recognize places I’ve been. Even the most obscure places. It’s surprising how much really stuck in my mind from the first time. The realization of how much I love it here and how at home I feel surprises me. I am comfortable stumbling through the language(s), both French and Arabic. I am comfortable with the food, with the flow of things, with the people.

This trip has been very similar to my first trip so far; at least as far as the places visited. Where it has been different has been with what Mokhtar has decided to do at each place. For example we drove quite a distance off the beaten path into tiny Berber villages and stayed with a family at their Riad in Boutahar. We played with the children, made couscous for dinner with them, and the sister’s friend applied henna to Debbie and I. We laughed around the dinner table, helped them clean up, took photos with the children, and watched TV. It was amazing. Next day we drove off, off, off road again and went through rough terrain in the middle of nowhere and saw nomads, camels, gorgeous geology (!), and listened to silence. Honestly, one of the most amazing things I’ve ever done! More later…with photos…

Bonjour, Maroc!

Tags

, , , ,

I’m back in Morocco! A quick trip it will be, but this time I’ve brought friends with me, Jack and Deb Walsingham. And we are in our glory! The weather is spectacular albeit hot. But it’s a dry heat, we remind ourselves.

We arrived in Casablanca. Casablanca. Sounds romantic, doesn’t it? It’s not. It’s a big city, about 3-5 million people I think, and it’s just that: a big city. But still, we were excited to be there and excited to see and hear the Arabic language written and spoken. First thing, at the airport, I swallowed a fly! I don’t know why I swallowed a fly… It was flying around me, I swatted it and the backdraft of the swap drew it right into my mouth and down it went. I had to keep swallowing because even though it went down I could still feel it. So that was my welcome to Morocco! Bleck.

Mokhtar met us and we were off to Marrakech! More later…

And then along came Morocco

Tags

, , , , , , ,

I’ve never been good at learning words in the native language of the countries I visit while I’m there. I might learn ‘good morning’ or ‘thank you’ but that’s the extent. Others I’ve traveled with go through great pains to learn words to communicate but for some reason I don’t do that – until I go home.

When I last visited Vietnam about 5 years ago, I had already purchased the Rosetta Stone system for learning Vietnamese and did quite well at it, but had a hard time detecting the words I knew in casual everyday conversation because Vietnamese is just so different from any language I’ve been exposed to. I liked Rosetta Stone’s format but just didn’t take the extensive time required to complete the entire system and consequently didn’t learn Vietnamese except for a few phrases that I like to say to impress people who have no clue what I’m saying. Because of how the words sound together I often show off to others by saying in Vietnamese, “the black cat is near the car,” a phrase that will not help me anytime in Vietnam or anywhere else. My drive to learn the language was mostly due to my wanting to move to Vietnam so badly. I hoped that if I learned the language it would make it easier to gain employment there. But all those plans changed for a variety of reasons. And my Vietnamese-learning ended.

And then along came Morocco.

French and Arabic are spoken in Morocco and to me it all sounds so familiar. I can rely upon my weak French learned in middle and high school to at least understand the gist of things. And I think some Moroccan Arabic words even sound French, like ‘mezian’ (good) and ‘nichen’ (straight) to just name two. I can actually detect Arabic words I know in conversation and in writing and know quite a few words that already come in handy in conversation with Moroccan friends. Plus I’ve bought some language and culture books that also help. There is a great resource online that helps one learn Moroccan Arabic: MoroccanLanguage.com. So I downloaded the program to my iPad and listen to it and practice a little each day. It’s rewarding and fun to impress my Moroccan friends with what I’m learning.

I have a long way to go with this but when I return in September I hope to have the phrase in Arabic for ‘the black cat is near the car’ down pat to impress my friends there!

Have tajine, will travel!

Tags

, ,

It’s Memorial Day weekend coming up and I’m already packing my car for the long weekend – – and for the opening of my cabin. This year it’s different since I’m bringing a tajine along with all of my spices suitable for Moroccan cooking, including my recipe books and my Moroccan Arabic books. Usually I make tuna salad or broil steaks but this year the focus is on tajine and further perfecting my Moroccan cooking skills. And since it’s predicted to rain pretty much non-stop (and I’m not dreading that), I have plenty of time to read the recipe books and do some cooking in the tajine. I might even try my hand at baking some bread and making a Moroccan salad. Can’t wait. When I return to Morocco in September, I want to be proficient with my cooking skills to at least help make dinner at Mokhtar’s family’s home when we visit M’Hamid. We shall see…

Embassy! Sweet!

Tags

, , , , , ,

My friends and I have been invited to have tea at the Moroccan residence of the US Ambassador to Morocco! I just heard from Mrs. Ambassador Kaplan. She says they are scheduled to be in Rabat at the embassy during my visit in September and that I should let her know specific dates I will be in the city so we can firm up the plan for our visit. Things change on a dime for them, though, so there’s a chance that it might not work. But still! I’m thrilled. According to her brief email, they love Morocco and view it as an adventure every day they are there. She is looking forward to discussing the upcoming election, as am I. But my travel companions are Republican so they might rather to discuss something else. I’m walking on air now!

If I had a nickel…

Tags

, , , , ,

…for everyone who has told me that I live near the US Ambassador to Morocco, Ambassador Kaplan, in the last few days, I’d be a very rich girl! Now you all tell me? You mean I could’ve been in contact with him well before this?! Still no word from the I’m assuming very-busy-Ambassador, but I’m not giving up hope. After all of the great things I’ve now heard about him from every tom, dick, and harry in NE Minneapolis, I can’t imagine not meeting him to at least say ‘hello.’ I just hope I don’t go crazy like a friend of mine did when she met Arnold Schwartzeneger and yelled out, “We looooooovvve you, Arnold!”

Ambassador Kaplan and I are *like this*

Tags

, , ,

So I called the Embassy in Rabat, Morocco this morning and was quickly put through to Ambassador Kaplan’s office. If you read my previous post you know that I recently found out that the US Ambassador to Morocco is a neighbor! So not only does everything remind me of Morocco, I now learn I live near the Ambassador! Naturally, I had to make contact with him. I talked to a really nice operator who quickly put me through to the Ambassador’s office. And there a really nice person talked to me and provided email contact information for the Ambassador. When I told her I live in Minneapolis and very near the Ambassador, she said, “How cool!” It was a fun conversation and even if nothing further happens, I’ve had fun. It reminds me of when I contacted Katharine Hepburn in Connecticut when I lived there in the late-1990’s. I wanted to meet her so sent a letter to her home in Essex. Her niece and personal assistant replied with a nice note declining my request but it was handwritten and so kindly put that I felt honored to just have received that much!

So I emailed Ambassador Kaplan and provided a bit of information about myself and tried not to use too many exclamation points.

Morocco is everywhere!

Tags

, , , , , , , , , ,

You know how it is when you get something new and suddenly you see it everywhere? That’s how Morocco is for me. Everywhere I go I see or hear something about Morocco. From hair products to food to a movie set to music, it’s all related to Morocco. To top it off I found out that the US Ambassador to Morocco under President Obama is Samuel L. Kaplan, my neighbor! He lives about 1/2 mile from me and I’m on a hunt to find him. I am planning to go back to Morocco and wouldn’t it be cool to have made contact with the guy? It’s worth a try.

I can’t get Morocco out of my mind. I’m entirely focused on the place and the people I met. This place, above all others ever, has really affected me. It opened up my view on this culture and to this place I’ve never known that much about. I always thought Morocco was a dangerous place for some reason. I don’t know why. And based on the comments I received before my departure it seems I wasn’t alone. Nearly everyone who knew I was going (if they weren’t confusing it with ‘Monaco’), warned me about my visit there. I remember the morning I left I said good-bye to my friend Debbie and commented, “This is probably the most dangerous place I’ve visited.” She agreed. We hugged each other extra hard.

Why did I feel that way? In hindsight it’s probably because it’s a Muslim country. I can’t think of any other reason because I really knew very little about the place except that. So what else could it be? Whatever the reason, I was wrong. Not once did I feel afraid. And the fact that the place is Muslim had no bearing on anything for me. I was just surprised in general how friendly and kind everyone was, but not because it’s a Muslim country. I was surprised just because it was so notable.

I’m not naive enough to think there’s no bad that befalls tourists or others, but I just never felt anything unnerving. The closest I came perhaps is when I was walking on our street to the car with Mokhtar. He was carrying my luggage and a guy I had seen many times before approached him and started talking to him and grabbing for my luggage, ignoring me the whole time. I couldn’t understand what they were saying but could tell by body language that Mokhtar wasn’t keen on the guy. Finally, appearing to be under some pressure to do so, Mokhtar handed my bag to the guy and we walked to the car. There was a split second that I wondered what was going to happen and debated about what I should do. Then the guy started dusting off the car, helping me in, wiping off the windshield, all for money. Mokhtar gave him a few dirham and we took off. “Remember his face,” Mokhtar told me. Turns out the guy is the gang leader for that area and as Mokhtar said, it’s better to just go along with him so that in the future he will help you out vs fighting him. So while we most likely weren’t in any danger, I was right on my interpretation of the situation just by reading the body language and was on the lookout for him later.

A rainy day

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

Tags

, ,

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…

Tags

, , ,

…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!)