Today is my last full day in the Moroccan capital. I've been busy with last minute shopping and packing and various other chores.
Yesterday, I bought a new (used) camera from a very interesting back-alley salesman. I have the sinking sensation that it was stolen from tourists, as mine was stolen from me. There were still pictures of a group of European-looking friends left on the camera. Perhaps, in some karmic twist of fate, those people in the pictures will end up with my camera and be able to see the few pictures that I took of Fez on the day of the theft.
In other news, I got another haircut. I don't think my hair has been this short since I was 5 years old. In other words, its a buzz-cut.
The Moroccan people are getting very excited. Next Saturday is a religious holiday that the volunteers have come to call "sheep slaughter day." Every family gets their own sheep and in the case of my host family, the slaughter takes place on the roof. I liken it to Christmas because during that time of year, impromptu Christmas tree stores pop up around the city. Similarly, small sheep stands can be found every corner in Rabat. You can even go to the big supermarkets and buy wholesale sheep. I wish I could stay for the holiday. Sort of.
As much as I like Morocco, I am ready to leave. I am leaving tomorrow morning. My plan is to take the train to Tangier. From there, I am going to take the ferry across the Straight of Gibraltar and into Spain. From there, I am going to meet up with another one of the volunteers from Morocco and her friend in Madrid. From there, we will head towards Barcelona. The goal is to be settled into a nice place in Barcelona just in time for a nice European Thanksgiving dinner.
Also, Barcelona is playing Real Madrid in Barcelona next Saturday and I am very happy about that. Spain's two biggest soccer clubs are also the most popular teams in Morocco.
I am very excited for my upcoming trek through Europe. Please please let me know if you have any suggestions, questions or concerns.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Last Day of Work
This is a picture of me actively forgetting how to play piano but still managing to make everybody very excited.
Even people who I didn't know showed up for my party. I don't want to brag, but my party was way better than those of the other volunteers who left before me. Hassane, my boss, said that I was the first volunteer who he ever "loved too much."
Friday, November 20, 2009
The best of times and the worst of times.
My time in Morocco is quickly coming to an end. I think that three months is a perfect amount of time. I have been able to see almost all of the sights that I wanted to see at the start of my journey. But, all good things must come to an end. As amazing as this country is, I am ready to leave. The incompetence and strange bureaucracy has taken its toll on me.
Let me explain:
Last Saturday, Lyall (my roommate), Michael (another volunteer) and I planned to take a day trip to Fez in order to watch Morocco play Cameroon in their final World Cup qualifying match. (Morocco had no chance of making the Cup but we figured it would be fun to see some of the world's top talent.)
Lyall, a football (soccer) fanatic had been trying to find a way to buy tickets in advance for a month. The Moroccan FA (Football Association) has a terrible website and was of no help at all. Eventually, we just decided to buy tickets when we arrived at the stadium since that is what all the Moroccan's said we should do. At 11 AM we boarded a train to Fez for a 3:30 PM match. The train was quick and we got to Fez around 2:00. It all went downhill from there.
We left the train station, following some fellows in Morocco jerseys because they were obviously going to the match. It wasn't until we asked a police man that the stadium would be a 1 hour walk. We then began to search for a taxi. None of the cabs that stopped for us would take us to the stadium. (I have discovered that taxi drivers avoid traffic by all means necessary.) After half an hour of walking and pleading, we found a taxi to take us there. As we got to the stadium, we were still in high spirits. That quickly changed when we saw that there were thousands of people just milling about. We quickly discovered that the box office was closed. This threw us off a little bit. We walked all the way around the stadium and couldn't find anybody who wanted to sell us tickets.
We decided that our best bet would be to try to get in on the Cameroon side because significantly less people were trying to get in at those gates. After thirty minutes of walking and yelling in Franglais, we found a security guard who had two tickets and was willing to sell them for face value. We took this and figured we could talk ourselves in. It wasn't that simple as every one of the hundreds of police and military personnel seemed to want a piece of that guy's profit.
We finally, made it through the first stage of security. This was made difficult because Michael is Nigerian and the guards didn't believe that he was with us. After that, we made it about 100 yards towards the stadium and encountered another series of security guards. This was a little more awkward because there were three of us and we only had two tickets. These guards also made life difficult for Michael because they didn't believe that we were friends. They thought he was a Cameroon fan trying to sneak in with us. After a five minute stand-off they let us through for 50 dirhams or half the price of one ticket.
As we made our way to the final stage of security, we encountered the man who initially sold us the tickets. He let us through hassle-free. 25 minutes after kickoff, we ran up the steps and had a magnificent view of the field.
It was at that magical moment when I realized that I had lost my camera somewhere in between the taxi and then. Realizing that there was no way I would ever see it again, I tried my best to enjoy the match.
The match was really exciting and lifted my spirits. I saw Samuel Eto'o score a goal as Cameroon dominated 2-0.
The most exciting moment came in the second half when a man jumped the barrier and ran the entire length of the field to kick a soccer ball into Cameroon's goal. All the fans went nuts. It was great sitting next to the Cameroon fan section as they were in a good mood. Toward the end of the match, Moroccan fans on the other side of the stadium all ran up to the top of the stands and started tearing the seat-backs off of the chairs and throwing them down onto the slower spectators below. Although there were hundreds of army personnel in between us and them, it was frightening because the guards weren't really doing anything to stop the rioting fans. After ten minutes, they seemed to tire themselves out and the game ended in relative peace.
After the match, we realized that it would be futile to find a cab that could take us to a police station as per the instructions of Projects Abroad.
We ended up walking the majority of the way back into Fez. We finally caught a taxi. We were tired and hungry at this point and very frustrated with everything about Morocco.
When we got to the police station and asked to file a report, they told us that they weren't the nearest police station to the stadium and I would have to report the stolen item at the other one.
This did not improve our mood one bit. After trying to catch another taxi for 30 minutes, we gave up and decided that it would be simpler to report the camera in Rabat. Projects Abroad approved our plan and we went in search of something to eat.
After a nice dinner, we headed back to the train station to catch our 8:50 train. (The ONCF (Moroccon train company) website said that there was an 8:50 PM train.)
After we got our tickets we saw that the time printed for departure was 2:10 AM. Outraged, we asked the ticket booth man and he informed us that no 8:50 train exists.
We checked the two bus stations and none of them had buses running that day. Being a 3 hour drive, a taxi would've cost far too much.
Too tired and frustrated to go anywhere else, we sat down on the benches and waited. Around 10, I went for a walk. Lyall was sick so he was asleep on the extremely uncomfortable train station chairs. Michael was catching up with an old friend from high school.
When I returned around 11, we decided to find sit at the small train station cafe and watch Jean-Claude Van Damm movies. We consumed endless hot chocolates and waited and waited.
At around 1:30 AM we decided to get on the train and sleep. I woke up at around 3:30 and realized that the train had yet to leave the station. After a few minutes, it took off and I went back to sleep.
We arrived in Rabat as the sun was coming up.
Moral of the story:
Do not ever expect to take a simple day trip in Morocco.
However, one kind of good thing came out this experience, once we got to Rabat, I got to ride in the back of a police van because, once again, we did not go to the correct station.
P.S. I do have all the pictures of the desert saved on the computer and I did manage to borrow a friend's camera to take pictures of my phenomenal going away party at my job.
Let me explain:
Last Saturday, Lyall (my roommate), Michael (another volunteer) and I planned to take a day trip to Fez in order to watch Morocco play Cameroon in their final World Cup qualifying match. (Morocco had no chance of making the Cup but we figured it would be fun to see some of the world's top talent.)
Lyall, a football (soccer) fanatic had been trying to find a way to buy tickets in advance for a month. The Moroccan FA (Football Association) has a terrible website and was of no help at all. Eventually, we just decided to buy tickets when we arrived at the stadium since that is what all the Moroccan's said we should do. At 11 AM we boarded a train to Fez for a 3:30 PM match. The train was quick and we got to Fez around 2:00. It all went downhill from there.
We left the train station, following some fellows in Morocco jerseys because they were obviously going to the match. It wasn't until we asked a police man that the stadium would be a 1 hour walk. We then began to search for a taxi. None of the cabs that stopped for us would take us to the stadium. (I have discovered that taxi drivers avoid traffic by all means necessary.) After half an hour of walking and pleading, we found a taxi to take us there. As we got to the stadium, we were still in high spirits. That quickly changed when we saw that there were thousands of people just milling about. We quickly discovered that the box office was closed. This threw us off a little bit. We walked all the way around the stadium and couldn't find anybody who wanted to sell us tickets.
We decided that our best bet would be to try to get in on the Cameroon side because significantly less people were trying to get in at those gates. After thirty minutes of walking and yelling in Franglais, we found a security guard who had two tickets and was willing to sell them for face value. We took this and figured we could talk ourselves in. It wasn't that simple as every one of the hundreds of police and military personnel seemed to want a piece of that guy's profit.
We finally, made it through the first stage of security. This was made difficult because Michael is Nigerian and the guards didn't believe that he was with us. After that, we made it about 100 yards towards the stadium and encountered another series of security guards. This was a little more awkward because there were three of us and we only had two tickets. These guards also made life difficult for Michael because they didn't believe that we were friends. They thought he was a Cameroon fan trying to sneak in with us. After a five minute stand-off they let us through for 50 dirhams or half the price of one ticket.
As we made our way to the final stage of security, we encountered the man who initially sold us the tickets. He let us through hassle-free. 25 minutes after kickoff, we ran up the steps and had a magnificent view of the field.
It was at that magical moment when I realized that I had lost my camera somewhere in between the taxi and then. Realizing that there was no way I would ever see it again, I tried my best to enjoy the match.
The match was really exciting and lifted my spirits. I saw Samuel Eto'o score a goal as Cameroon dominated 2-0.
The most exciting moment came in the second half when a man jumped the barrier and ran the entire length of the field to kick a soccer ball into Cameroon's goal. All the fans went nuts. It was great sitting next to the Cameroon fan section as they were in a good mood. Toward the end of the match, Moroccan fans on the other side of the stadium all ran up to the top of the stands and started tearing the seat-backs off of the chairs and throwing them down onto the slower spectators below. Although there were hundreds of army personnel in between us and them, it was frightening because the guards weren't really doing anything to stop the rioting fans. After ten minutes, they seemed to tire themselves out and the game ended in relative peace.
After the match, we realized that it would be futile to find a cab that could take us to a police station as per the instructions of Projects Abroad.
We ended up walking the majority of the way back into Fez. We finally caught a taxi. We were tired and hungry at this point and very frustrated with everything about Morocco.
When we got to the police station and asked to file a report, they told us that they weren't the nearest police station to the stadium and I would have to report the stolen item at the other one.
This did not improve our mood one bit. After trying to catch another taxi for 30 minutes, we gave up and decided that it would be simpler to report the camera in Rabat. Projects Abroad approved our plan and we went in search of something to eat.
After a nice dinner, we headed back to the train station to catch our 8:50 train. (The ONCF (Moroccon train company) website said that there was an 8:50 PM train.)
After we got our tickets we saw that the time printed for departure was 2:10 AM. Outraged, we asked the ticket booth man and he informed us that no 8:50 train exists.
We checked the two bus stations and none of them had buses running that day. Being a 3 hour drive, a taxi would've cost far too much.
Too tired and frustrated to go anywhere else, we sat down on the benches and waited. Around 10, I went for a walk. Lyall was sick so he was asleep on the extremely uncomfortable train station chairs. Michael was catching up with an old friend from high school.
When I returned around 11, we decided to find sit at the small train station cafe and watch Jean-Claude Van Damm movies. We consumed endless hot chocolates and waited and waited.
At around 1:30 AM we decided to get on the train and sleep. I woke up at around 3:30 and realized that the train had yet to leave the station. After a few minutes, it took off and I went back to sleep.
We arrived in Rabat as the sun was coming up.
Moral of the story:
Do not ever expect to take a simple day trip in Morocco.
However, one kind of good thing came out this experience, once we got to Rabat, I got to ride in the back of a police van because, once again, we did not go to the correct station.
P.S. I do have all the pictures of the desert saved on the computer and I did manage to borrow a friend's camera to take pictures of my phenomenal going away party at my job.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Monday, November 16, 2009
We probably shouldn't go over there, that's Algeria.
(yet again continued from a previous post)
The next morning we woke up completely sore from our long day of camel trekking. After a typical Moroccan breakfast of bread and hard-boiled eggs, we set off on another journey atop our trusty steeds.
We rode for two hours. To the East, we saw a large plateau and our guide informed us that that was Algeria.
Morocco is currently in a border dispute with Algeria. They are fighting over the territory in the far South. Although it is basically arid land, it is rich in history and oil.
We figured that it would be in our best interest to stay in Morocco.
Just as the sun was at its peak, we stopped at a small house in the middle of nowhere. We spread out in a small tent and ate a large fishy dish. (Most of us didn't eat this because we were wary of any fish served in the Sahara.)
We spent a couple hours there napping and watching military vehicles kick up dust as they sped by us towards an unknown destination.
Heading back to Tent City, we saw a very random donkey at the bottom of a large sand bowl. He was tied to a bag of sand and seemed to be an exact replica of Eeyore.
Our day was not very busy but we were glad to return to our de facto home. They served us another delicious meal and we brought our blankets outside and watched the sun go down and the stars come out. I have never seen that many stars in my life. They were absolutely brilliant.
A few of us stayed up way too late talking about everything and nothing.
We finally went to bed because our guides said that we were to wake up at 4 AM in order to watch the sun rise and so that we could get back to Rabat at a reasonable hour.
We were woken up at 3:30 with vicious hand claps and chants. I jumped out of bed ready to seize the day despite my 3 hours of sleep.
We hopped on our camels and headed back toward the base camp. The sun rise was phenomenal because you could see it coming up in stages. It was also nice because it slowly heated me up like a rotisserie chicken.
Too tired and dirty to take a bus, the 11 of us hired two minibuses to drive us back to Rabat.
The drive back was fantastic. Coming from the South East and heading toward the North West, we saw all the environments and ecosystems that Morocco has to offer. We passed rainy forests with little monkeys, caves, prairies, lakes, small mountain towns, rolling hills and even a place that resembled the Badlands of South Dakota.
The sun just barely beat us home as we got back around 6 PM; just in time to watch it set.
As Lyall and I stumbled through our door, Phillip who declined to go on our adventure said, with a hint of dismay, 'Hmph, you're still alive.'
After our 4.5 day weekend trip, I was a little surprised that we had made it home alive as well.
The next morning we woke up completely sore from our long day of camel trekking. After a typical Moroccan breakfast of bread and hard-boiled eggs, we set off on another journey atop our trusty steeds.
We rode for two hours. To the East, we saw a large plateau and our guide informed us that that was Algeria.
Morocco is currently in a border dispute with Algeria. They are fighting over the territory in the far South. Although it is basically arid land, it is rich in history and oil.
We figured that it would be in our best interest to stay in Morocco.
Just as the sun was at its peak, we stopped at a small house in the middle of nowhere. We spread out in a small tent and ate a large fishy dish. (Most of us didn't eat this because we were wary of any fish served in the Sahara.)
We spent a couple hours there napping and watching military vehicles kick up dust as they sped by us towards an unknown destination.
Heading back to Tent City, we saw a very random donkey at the bottom of a large sand bowl. He was tied to a bag of sand and seemed to be an exact replica of Eeyore.
Our day was not very busy but we were glad to return to our de facto home. They served us another delicious meal and we brought our blankets outside and watched the sun go down and the stars come out. I have never seen that many stars in my life. They were absolutely brilliant.
A few of us stayed up way too late talking about everything and nothing.
We finally went to bed because our guides said that we were to wake up at 4 AM in order to watch the sun rise and so that we could get back to Rabat at a reasonable hour.
We were woken up at 3:30 with vicious hand claps and chants. I jumped out of bed ready to seize the day despite my 3 hours of sleep.
We hopped on our camels and headed back toward the base camp. The sun rise was phenomenal because you could see it coming up in stages. It was also nice because it slowly heated me up like a rotisserie chicken.
Too tired and dirty to take a bus, the 11 of us hired two minibuses to drive us back to Rabat.
The drive back was fantastic. Coming from the South East and heading toward the North West, we saw all the environments and ecosystems that Morocco has to offer. We passed rainy forests with little monkeys, caves, prairies, lakes, small mountain towns, rolling hills and even a place that resembled the Badlands of South Dakota.
The sun just barely beat us home as we got back around 6 PM; just in time to watch it set.
As Lyall and I stumbled through our door, Phillip who declined to go on our adventure said, with a hint of dismay, 'Hmph, you're still alive.'
After our 4.5 day weekend trip, I was a little surprised that we had made it home alive as well.
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