"Play it, Sam. Play As Time Goes By."

Our last stop in Morocco was the city of Casablanca. I have always wanted to go there since I watched the movie as a kid.  It wasn't a surprise but my Casablanca experience was nothing close to my childhood expectations. 

We were in town for only two days and on the last day in Casablanca I needed to get caught up on my errands.  I decided to ship home my cold weather gear because I needed to bring the weight of my backpack down to 15 kg (33 lbs) from its current 20 kg (44 lbs).  The cheap airlines of Europe like Ryan Air charge significant fees for baggage over 15 kg so it was cheaper for me to mail things to my parents then to continue to carry them with me.

Running the gauntlet at the post office for international shipping was a nightmare but eventually I found someone who spoke English to help me.  Of course, his kindness was expected to be compensated with a tip. In many countries, I have found this to be the case and in Morocco it seemed more like the rule than the exception. After mailing the package, we haggled over the level of the tip, he felt he deserved.  In his mind, he thought I was wealthy because I was an American.  I told him I was a student and then he quickly agreed to my offer and wished me good travels.  It is a little white lie that I have used often in my haggling especially when I know that someone is trying to take advantage of me. The student line is extremely effective with taxi drivers who are the most notorious in trying to take advantage of travelers.   

The next thing I needed to do was get the buttons on my sports coat repaired.  I had lost two buttons on it from the constant packing and repacking of the backpack.  Since I was heading to the CIVICUS conference in a few days, I would need to look respectable.

As I was walking down the street in search of a tailor, a man approached me and asked me in Arabic a question, which I deciphered to be “what time is it?”  Without saying a word, I stuck out my hand and showed him my watch.  I could tell he was irritated that I stuck my hand out instead of telling him the time.  I eventually told him I didn’t speak Arabic and he told me was surprised because he thought I was local.  I asked him where the nearest tailor was and he told me that he would take me to one.  I knew that I would be in store for another tip but didn’t know what was in store for me for the rest of the day.

The tailor was closed for lunch and my new friend, Mohammad, asked if I would take him for coffee while we waited.  After I said sure, he sheepishly asked if I drank beer because he could take me to his local bar.  Why wouldn’t I check out his hangout? 

We spent a few hours in the bar having a great conversation over lunch and beers.  He was worried about the recent arrests of terrorist suspects in Casablanca earlier in the week.  He was a cabdriver, who was out of work while his car was in the shop, and his trade depended on tourists and this could have an impact on people’s perception of his hometown.  Not surprisingly he didn’t like President Bush but he was equally critical of Saddam Hussein because he felt that he damaged the reputation of the Arab world along with Osama bin Laden.

Eventually, a few other regulars entered the bar and Mohammad began to translate the conversations for me.  A fellow cab driver of Mohammad’s started talking to me.

Fellow cab driver (FCD):  “Why doesn’t he talk to me?’
Mohammad:  “Because he is an American and doesn’t know Arabic.”
FCD: “Why are you bringing an American to our bar?”
Mohammad:  “Look at him. Does he look American? His parents are from India.”
FCD: “Oh. I like Indian movies.  He can stay.”

Well it wasn’t a gin joint.  It wasn’t Rick’s American Café.  For crying out loud, I couldn’t pronounce the name of the establishment but it was an intriguing experience.  We eventually made it to the tailor and took care of the sports coat. As it happens often on this journey, a simple errand turned into a glimpse of a local experience that couldn’t be found in the guidebooks.

The Marrakesh Express

The city of Marrakesh was the next destination of the Morocco tour and it was an overwhelming experience both in a good way and a bad way.  We decided to stay in the thick of things in the central square of the Medina, Djemma el-Fna.  As we walked towards our hotel, we were approached by restaurant owners and tour operators.  Everyone had a special deal for us.  One of the tour operators could tell my heritage was from India and he began to sell me his pitch in Hindi.  I found out later that he learned the basics of Hindi by watching Indian movies which were surprisingly very popular in Morocco.

Our hotel oversaw the grand square that transforms from a somber market during the day into one of the most overwhelming displays of trade I have ever seen.  As soon as the sun starts to go down, the square is alive with booths of food,street performers, snake charmers and others selling their wares.  At part of the square there was even a make shift boxing match going on.  You couldn't walk through the square with out people hitting you up to visit their booth.  I have had the opportunity to visit many markets and bazaars throughout my journey but the one Marrakesh cannot be adequately explained, it needs to be experienced.

Picture: The Djemma el-Fna in the morning.

Picture: The Djemma el-Fna at dusk.

We only had a few days in town and were looking forward to it but unfortunately the travel gods were not going to allow for it.  Both Patrick and I had contracted sometime of stomach virus.  Patrick was out of commission for about four days and I was down and out for a day and a half.  Patrick was just miserable and unfortunately was gun shy for the rest of the time in Morocco about eating the food.

A friend of mine, Anne Mervenne, had e-mailed me out of the blue and told me she had visited Morocco to do some political training for women running for political office a few years back. She put us into contact with a few of her friends, Mustapha and Maroud. Because of our sickness, we weren't able to spend much time with Anne's friends but we did have tea with Mustapha and his brother, Maroud, gave us a short tour of the city on the way to the train station on our last day. 

World Music Festival in Fes, Morocco

We took a bus from Tangier to Fes.  Fes was on our must see list because the city was hosting the annual Fes Festival of World Sacred Music.  The festival attracts performers from across the world to perform songs of different faiths and religions. 

We took a tour of the city through a guide affiliated with our hotel.  The guide took us through the Medina, which was the old imperial city.  The city was a maze of small winding streets with thousands of small shops and restaurants scattered throughout.  If we weren’t with a guide, there would have been no way for us to navigate the streets without getting lost. 

The tour had us start at the Royal Palace and from there we went through the town visiting the sites.  There are a number of beautiful mosques throughout the medina.  Since we were non-Muslims we were not able to enter them but the external structures were still stunning.  On of the mosques, the Kairaouine Mosque, was built in 859 and can house up to 20,000 people during prayer.  We also visited a tannery, a natural pharmacist, and a carpet dealer before having a traditional Moroccan lunch. 

Picture:  Tannery in Fes.

The carpet dealer was ruthless in his pitch.  He showed us the process of making the carpet and asked us to join him with some mint tea.  After tea, the hard sell was on.  He was convinced that we should take six or seven carpets with us because we could easily sell them when we got home for much more than we bought them for.  In the end, he said we would not only pay for the carpets with the profit but our entire trip to Morocco would be free.  At one point he starting asking Patrick questions and I used it as my opportunity to escape.  I walked out of the store and poor Patrick was left to fend for himself. 

Later that night we went to the music festival.  It was the opening night of the festival and the Princess was officially kicking off the festivities. It was funny but the night we chose to attend the festival the act was American.  Jessy Norman, an acclaimed soprano, was the lead artist and she was accompanied by the the Lyric  Regional Orchestra Avignon Provence (France) which was led by Rachael Worby.

   

The Moroccan Adventure Begins

Note: The Morocco posts cover events that occurred during the first two weeks in June.

I don’t know how to describe Morocco in way that can explain the complexity of the country and its people.  It is by far the most unique country that I have been to so far on this journey.  Somehow it manages to combine its Arabic foundation and culture with the French influence from the colonial period into an amazing place that grabs you by your collar as soon as you land and doesn’t let go till you leave. 

We had taken the ferry from Algeciras, Spain and landed in Tangier, Morocco. Tangier is the gateway city for most travelers that originate from Europe.  As soon as we came through customs, taxi drivers and people wanting to help us find accommodations hounded us.  Since we didn’t have a place booked, we followed one of them through town till we came to a fairly plain hotel in the middle of the Medina (old town).  The price was right at fifteen dollars a person.   It was a stark contrast to the prices we were spending in Europe.  Since money was becoming an issue for the two of us, we welcomed the next ten days in a country that the American dollar still had some value in.

Morocco was the most challenging country to date for me personally.   I don't have any profeciency in Morocco's two main languages, Arabic and French so language was often an issue.  In the tourist areas, there were many people who spoke English but when you were off the beaten path it was a concern.  On the health side, it was the first time in five months that I had stomach issues.  Though my stomach virus was easily combated with Cipro, it still kept me out of commission for a day and a half.

My senses were on overload during my time in Morocco.  The streets were filled with people and vendors at all hours of the day.  The call to prayer from the mosques woke us up early every morning.  There were people in your face constantly eager to help you in exchange for a few dirhams. It was a dramatic contrast to the laid back atmosphere of Malaga, Spain which we had spent three quiet days  prior to heading down to Morocco.   

We decided to head to Fes, Morocco after one day in Tangier.  We wanted a more laid back atmosphere and the World Sacred Music Festival was about to begin in Fes.  The world's religions sharing their music in one community seemed like the  experience that fit into the framework of Singh Around the World.