Morocco

Last weekend, I went to Marrakech, Morocco, with my good friend, Hali. It was awesome. Hali lives on my street in Spain, and also goes to school in NC. She is awesome.

This blog post will be structured around our series of insides jokes, beginning with “Remember that time in Morocco when…?” We will take you through the list of once-in-a-lifetime events that happened to us this weekend. Most of these things happened to Hali and I for the first time, and probably the last time, this weekend. Truly incredible.

Hopefully with the pictures, explanations, and jokes, you’ll also be able to feel like you were right there with us, on vacation in Morocco ;)

Remember that time in Morocco when…?

…A stranger thought we were speaking German

That didn’t actually happen in Morocco. That happened while we were on the bus going to the airport. A man asked us (in Spanish) if we were speaking in English or German. We were definitely speaking in German. KIDDING. We were definitely speaking in English.

…We met American boys at the airport, and talked about them all weekend like they were our close friends

Our trip started at the Madrid-Bajaras airport mid-day on Thursday, March 8. We met some American boys, Michael and Cody, traveling with some friends to spend the weekend backpacking on camel-back in the desserts of Morocco. If nothing else, we simply enjoyed their company during the hour that we waited to board the plane. And, it was from them that we got the idea to ride camels, later!

…We were overly excited about another stamp on our passports

The flight was, thankfully, uneventful. Michael’s and Cody’s friend, David, sat next to us, but he wasn’t as fun to talk to.

We arrived in Marrakech, Morocco around 1:00pm. It was so exciting to step foot on a foreign continent!

And it was especially exciting to get another stamp on our passports ;)

…We understood Italian and responded in Spanish

We had made lodging reservations at a Riad, a traditional Moroccan guest-house, instead of a hotel. We also requested that they provide transportation from the airport to the Riad. When we met our driver, he indicated that he could communicate in Arabic, Italian, or French. Given that Italian was the closest to Spanish, that’s what we settled on. It actually worked! He told us to expect about ten minutes before we would leave the airport, and be on our way to the Riad.

…We almost got kidnapped

Ok, “kidnapped” is kind of an exaggeration. We were never really in danger, but we felt a little scared. Here’s what happened:
The ten-minute wait that our driver warned us about, turned into two hours of waiting to leave the airport parking lot. Other men approached our vehicle, and started yelling at our driver in Arabic. He got out of the car, and within minutes, there was a swarm of drivers engulfed in an argument and pointing at our vehicle. 

Hali and I felt like were about to be the victims of a crime, but the scary part was, we had no idea what crime was about to be committed.

Another man drove up and parked, as if to disperse the argument. He approached us confidently, and introduced himself, in English, as the manager of our Riad. (Since his name was something that I can’t pronounce, that started with A, I’ll call him Adidas.)

Adidas apologized profusely for the delay. He explained was that he was the one who had coordinated our transportation from the airport, and that he hadn’t anticipated this little snafu. He instructed us to wait for the Police of Tourism, who was on their way, to investigate.

This photo illustrates and my frustration at the situation:

Just as Adidas said, a man from the Police of Tourism came, and asked us to show him our passports. We left minutes later, with our original driver. Adidas was drove right behind us, and he met us at the Riad.

…We fell in love with mint tea

We finally arrived at the Riad around 3:00pm. We met the owner of the Riad, who I referred to simply as Dueño. He also spoke English. As a result of our interrogation, Adidas and Dueño explained that what had happened with the men at the airport was a relatively common occurrence, a petty crime involving legal restricts of traveling with and transporting tourists. Basically, they were fighting over who would drive the van for Hali and I, because that’s who would be paid, and so they were fighting over the money. Hali and I were confused because we had only made the reservation through the Riad, so we would be paying the Riad. But whatever. It was a relief to know that Hali and I had not been in serious danger. It was still nerve-wracking for us to think that we had been completely ignorant about the seriousness (or lack thereof) of the “crime,” since they had been yelling in a completely foreign language. By the grace of God, Crisis averted.

Needless to say, we were relieved when we finally arrived safely at the Riad. We were met by Ale, our butler, who spoke NO ENGLISH, broken French, and fluent Arabic. Ale greeted us with some delightful Moroccan pastries, and our first taste of mint tea.

Mint tea is delicious. It’s served at all hours of the day as a social drink, especially after meals, or with snacks.

…We tried tagine for the 1^st time… and the 2^nd… and the 5^th…

Adidas asked us what we would like to do on Thursday afternoon. First and foremost, we wanted to eat lunch, but then after that, we had no plans. But we couldn’t stop thinking about how cool it would be to ride camels… it was decided that Adidas would drive us to a restaurant for lunch, and then pick us up and take us to go on a camel ride at sunset. DONE. 

The restaurant was called Dream Land. A Moroccan specialty is called tagine, which refers to a certain ceramic plate that acts as a slow-cooker for whatever is in it. All types of tagine were recommended, and we had our first plate of tagine for lunch on Thursday. Throughout the weekend, we tried tagine with chicken and olives, tagine with lamb and prunes and raisins, tagine with sausage and eggs, tagine with beef and kuskus, tagine with vegetables… etc. They were all delicious.

…We had to drink mineral water out of bottles
One of the weirdest things about eating in Morocco was that we had to buy a 1.5-liter bottle of water with every meal. Tap water isn’t really clean, so drinking water is always served in bottles. But mineral water is just weird, and in my humble opinion, not very good (no offense). The bottled-mineral-water at Dream Land Restaurant was no exception.

…We rode camels

As promised, Adidas arranged for a guide, Kalid, to pick us up from the restaurant at 5:30, and take us to ride camels at sunset. It was AWESOME. Camels are large smelly animals that are quite clunky and spit a lot.

…We interrupted loud camel sex

I felt like a child in a circus ring, riding on a horse and being led by a ring-leader. The ride lasted for about half an hour. When we came back to where the other camels and guides were waiting, we basically saw first-hand a bunch of camels in their natural, Moroccan environment. Kalid was quick to point out the camels having sex, and the mother nursing a baby. Both pairs stopped what they were doing when we approached.

…We watched a mama camel nurse her baby

…our guide made us camels out of palm leaves

We were given little gifts, woven of palm leaves, from our guide. Here is a picture of them.

…We showered without a curtain

That night back at the Riad, we were exhausted. We were served another plate of tagine for dinner, this one with lamb and prunes, and fruit sauce. SOO GOOD!

The shower in the bathroom was the next challenge to overcome… the shower was basically a square carved out of the wall. It was beautiful, but it had no curtain or doors, and the shower head was directly over-head. So a) it was hard to not get my hair wet, and b) it was impossible not to get the floor wet. #firstworldproblems, lol.

…We were the first customers to successfully start our own gas fire

Ale brought us a little gas-fire space heater, for our room. The first time, he started it for us, but then in the evening, we tried doing it ourselves.

Apparently, everyone in the Riad could hear that we were messing with the Spark button to start the fire… so they knocked on the door to see if we needed help. We didn’t—on our last try, we balanced the gas and the spark just right, and we did it by ourselves ;)

…We slept in a canopy bed

We felt like princesses, on our canopy bed!

…We were served breakfast on a golden platter

On Friday morning, we woke up around 9:00am in preparation for our guided tour of the neighborhood, the Medina, for which we would leave at 10:00am. Since it was a gorgeous day, we went up to the terrace on the roof, and Ale brought us our breakfast.

Our breakfast was served on a golden platter!

There was coffee (necessary), orange juice (delicious), mint tea (recommended), laughing cow cheese, and myriad jelly flavors served for our bread and toast, including peach, orange, strawberry (or raspberry?) and chocolate/peanut butter. I ate ALL OF IT.

…We were serenated by a Swahili man on a hand-made guitar

Our private tour guide on Friday was Abdul; he works for the Ministry of Tourism in Morocco. He took us to an old university where only men attended, and slept in tiny two-story dorm rooms…

…and to the Museum of Morocco, which was formerly an all-girls university…

… and to some ancient irrigation ruins, because Arabs are all about getting water to central, spiritual locations…

…and then he took us shopping in the afternoon. So fun!

One of the stops on our tour was to go into an old bakery… it was still functional, but it was ANCIENT. The man had to put dough into a stove fire place, and then wait while it cooked, and then rotate it, etc. And there was no electricity in the building.

So, while the bread was cooking, he sang to us!

…We stole fruit from a restaurant

The truth is: we took the fruit that we didn’t eat, which we had already paid for. So it wasn’t really STEALING, but it was kind of sketchy…

We stopped for lunch at a delightful restaurant, with covered couches on the outside porch.

We ate (you guess it), tagine, and we were served mint tea with dessert.

It was SO FILLING and delicious.
Here is a pic of the salad that Hali was served, for lunch:

My tagine was chicken with kuskus, and Hali’s was eggs and sausage.

We were STUFFED, so we just took the clementines, apples, and dried figs, and shoved them in our purses, and saved them for later ;)

…We were given insides tours of the pharmacy, carpet, and peanut butter factories

On our tour with Abdul, we stopped at a pharmacy, and they showed us some special Moroccan spices and oils. It was really interesting!

The carpet and peanut butter factories are known as “Cooperativos,” which means that all the labor is from women who are divorced or widowed.

To appease the carpet vendor, we assured him that we would consider coming back when looking for carpets and rugs to furnish our own, future houses ;)

My favorite part about watching them grind nuts and herbs to make peanut butter and honey was that we were given free samples!

…We snorted herbs and cleared our sinuses

This is an inside joke regarding the man that showed us all of the products in the pharmacy. One of the natural herbs was to clear sinuses, so when he had us smell it, he closed one nostril, and then the other, so that I would get the full effect. It was STRONG, and my sinuses were certainly cleared!

…Our tour guide started shopping before we did, and bought slippers

One of the most well-known products in Morocco is the shoe market. In the afternoon, at our request, Abdul took us around the market to look at purses, home furnishings, jewelry, shoes, scarves, post cards, etc. All the good stuff ;)

Hali and I each bought a plethora of souvenirs, but the funny thing was that Abdul was the first one of the three of us to buy anything, and furthermore, he bought a pair of house shoes!

…Taylor bought a 900 dirham purse for 300 dirhams

Vendors in Morocco bargain, and essentially let the customers set a price. I was uncomfortable doing that, and besides that, I only had 300 dirhams in cash to spend. So, when I saw a purse that I wanted to buy, I was told it was 900 dirhams. 

The conversation went something like this (although, some details are lost in translation, due to words that were spoken in French, Arabic, Spanish, and English):

Vendor: 900 Dirhams.

Me: I only have 300 Dirhams in cash.

Vendor: 700 Dirhams.

Me: I’m sorry, I only have 300 Dirhams in cash.

Abdul: Oh, come on, she’s telling you she doesn’t have the money! Why don’t you give it to her, as a gift?

Me: I’m sorry, I can’t buy it.
Vendor: What is your last price?
Me: I’m not bargaining. It’s just that I have only 300 Dirhams.

Vendor: Ok, I’ll take it.

Abdul: He’ll give it to you, as a gift! Give him your 300 Dirhams.
Me: Ok, here’s 200 Dirhams… uh oh, well, I THOUGHT I had 300 Dirhams…

Vendor: Well do you have Euros? You could give me 10 Euros, instead of 100 more Dirhams…

Me: Okay!

…We made a transaction in Eurhams—that’s Euros and Dirhams at the same time.

[See above.] #OnlyinMorocco.

…A guy asked if we lived in CO… Who lives in CO?

One of the vendors spoke to us in English. He found out that Hali and I were from the states, and he said “Where? New York? Colorado? Idaho? Florida? California? DC?” What a random combination of recognized states!

…We were sisters from DC… or cousins from CO… or whatever. Wait, what are we?

We told him that we were from DC. It was his closest guess. He asked us to say hi to Obama. Some randos even asked if we were sisters. We told them yes. It was the easiest response. It was a lie.

…We were called “beautiful gazelles” by every man we passed, and gave them whiplash

Yea, most Moroccan men are sexually repressed because the norm for Arab women is to wear floor-length dresses and head scarves, which often cover their faces. We were blonde Americans, and they whistled and hollered at us in English NONSTOP. The English expression “as if his head were on a swivel” is usually an exaggeration, but in this case, it was 100% TRUE. When the men driving motos stared at us, I was honestly afraid that they would crash into something, because, for as long as we were still in their sight, they were NOT looking at the road!

…A boy stopped dead in his tracks, opened his mouth, drooled, and said “Oh My God!” when we walked by

This really happened. He looked like a drooling, dehydrated dog, with his tongue hanging out of his mouth, and his eyes rolled back in his head. It was embarrassing.

…We were almost run over multiple times, because motos drive on the roads where people walk

I know you’re supposed to look both ways when you cross the street, but no one teaches you where you’re supposed to walk if there are motos driving on the sidewalks!

…We walked through all of the Medina in one day

I took a picture of the coolest Riad that we passed in the Medina:

There are Medinas in every neighborhood, and the most well-known and well-populated one is in Marrakech. Abdul walked us through the whole Medina, and had us back to the Riad around 6:00pm. What a busy day!

…We watched the sunset on the terrace

It was beautiful.

Some things, like the moon, are best remembered with the eyes.

 

…We took a shower under a bath faucet… semi-successfully and incredibly awkwardly

So, back to our struggles regarding the bathtub/shower in the Riad—I decided to NOT turn on the shower faucet, so as to avoid SOAKING the bathroom floor. Instead, I sat in the bathtub, and let the thin stream of warm water run over my back while I washed my hair. It’s a good thing I’m flexible, because it was definitely awkward. But hey, at least I washed my hair successfully ;)

…Our tour guides had to stop more than we did

After another breakfast on a golden platter in the morning on Saturday, the Riad had arranged for our transportation to the beach, Essaouira, on the Atlantic coast of Morocco, about three hours east of Marrakech. We left around 8:00am, and met our tour Guide, Brian. He spoke only broken English, with a very thick accent. Apparently, there were planned stops along the way, which Hali and I didn’t realize. He tried warning us/explaining to us where we were stopping, but Hali and I usually had no idea what he was referring to. The first of those stops was at a restaurant to use the bathroom and get a bite to eat. Hali and I were ready to go within like two minutes, we were anxious to get to the beach! But Brian wanted to eat some breakfast first… haha

…Any French word offended Hali immediately

Hali, frustrated by the language barrier, terminó ofendida que nadie le hablaba en español, jajaja. French is the second oficial language of Morocco.

…We communicated better in Italian than in English

This was an idea that we gathered from our first driver, the one that initially took us from the airport, to the Riad. He had said “Arabic, French, or Italian?” And we’d chosen Italian, because it was the most similar to Spanish. As it turned out, we communicated with him better in Italian than we did with Brian, who tried to speak to us in English. Poor guy.

…We had an “English-speaking” tour guide in Essaueria… yea me neither

“English-speaking” tour guide refers to Brian. It made us wonder what qualifies as “English-speaking” or “English fluency” when applying for Brian’s job. When he didn’t understand our question he would say “Me neither,” “No problem,” or “as you wish.” Like, once we asked, “when are we stopping for lunch?” and he said “as you wish” AHHHHH HAHAHA.

…We listed to jet-lag music

At one point, Brian tried to tell us about the Moroccan music that we were listening to in the car. I just kept nodding, hoping that he couldn’t tell that I had no idea what he was trying to say. He noticed that Hali and I were resting in the car, and I thought he asked us if we were jet-lagged. Then, when he said something about the music, I still thought he was saying “jet-lag” music, but the truth was, I really had NO IDEA what he was trying to say!

…We almost ran over a sheep… on the highway

 …We climbed a tree with goats in it

Yet another language barrier: when Brian told us that we were going to stop to take pictures of “sheep in a tree” that you can only see “only in Morocco,” again I had no idea what he was talking about. When we stopped, and saw with our own eyes, what Brian was talking about, we realized that the only communication error in that situation was that they were really goats in a tree, rather than sheep. No wonder we didn’t understand him!

…We walked through the fish market, and it reeked

Our last stop was an over-pass that looked out over the city of Essaouira. Beautiful!

When we finally arrived, we followed Brian (again, having no idea where we were going) through a fish market. There was one fruit stand:

And the rest was just fish and boats. It reeked. But it was eye-opening to consider that these fishermen, on the streets, make a living off of these fish. I’m glad I don’t live there.

The walk was worth it, though, because we ended up getting to the end of a road, and climbing the rocks to look over the wall. The water was STUNNING.

…We bought anti-irritant cream instead of sunscreen

The bottle that we purchased reads: “Physioblok, Hypoallergenic. Ecran Solaire. Crème haute protection. UVA & UVB. Anti-Irritant. Peaux Sensibles & Réactives.” I still think it’s sunscreen. Hali still thinks it’s anti-irritant cream. I put some on, and Hali didn’t. Hali got sunburned, and I didn’t. I think the label is written in French. We asked for it at a pharmacy, by speaking to an Arab woman in Spanish. Really, either of us could be right ;) Hahaha

…We had a body guard/babysitter while sun-bathing

Sick of walking through the fish market, because of the smell, we asked Brian which way it was to the beach. We tried saying it in many different ways: sand, water, go in the water, waves, touch the waves, sun, rest in the sun. Talk about needing patience with the language barriers! He said “do you want to swim?” and we said “yes” (another lie), because we figured that if he took us to the beach to swim, there would be room there to sun-bathe on the sand. Lol.

We were right. We said to Brian, “ok we’re going to stay here” and he said “You’re not going to move? But, are you going to swim?” We said we didn’t know.

We realized that he was essentially being paid to be responsible for us. It felt awkward, to have a body guard/babysitter while we were sunbathing on the beach, but since we were in a foreign country where we didn’t speak the language, it was also oddly reassuring.

…We were rescued from high-tide by children

Foreigners are taught to be weary of children because they are usually pic-pocket traps. But a passerby warned us to watch out for the tide coming in, and sure enough, the next wave came up to our ankles. While Hali and I grabbed our purses, some kids ran over and grabbed our towels in the knick of time. I hope they didn’t want any monedas!

…We were solicited relentlessly for henna tattoos that we never wanted to begin with

…We were two language majors basking in the sun, and we feigned ignorance of any first language to avoid attention

The Arabian women selling henna tattoos were relentless. We were approached every five minutes. I talked to a few of them, before quickly realizing that that was a mistake. Then I started mumbling in Spanglish, hoping that they wouldn’t understand me. Then I realized it was best to just ignore them, all together.

…We ate caramel flan

It was delicious.

The restaurant in Essaouira was as if we were on the boardwalk, dock-side, table on the porch with an umbrella, view of the ocean, beautiful.

…We risked our lives, dodging street construction in the town square

[The “near death” theme is an exaggeration, to make our trip to Morocco seem more exciting!] But walking through the streets of town, in Essaouira, behind Brian, while we were shopping for postcards and ice cream, both of which we tried to pay for in Euros, did prove kind of dangerous, and quite claustrophobic, because basically the whole street was ruined with street construction. We almost fell. And we bumped into countless other people, who were also meandering on the street of the market in Essaouira, also not looking where they were going, because of carefully avoiding the street construction. #OnlyinMorocco.

…We were in traffic with cars… and donkeys… and motos… and bikes… and pedestrians… and carriages…

In the US, (and in Spain), we are familiar with vehicles of transportation that travel at APPROXIMATELY THE SAME SPEED on the highway, to avoid collisions. Not in Morocco!

…We wished we understood French

Hali’s offense to French lessened when we returned to the Riad on Saturday afternoon, and found ourselves wishing that we could communicate with Ale, our butler. Despite the language barrier, he put us in contact with Dueño, so that we could sort out our dinner details, and then Ale served us beef and vegetable tagine for dinner.

…Taylor tried speaking French… she thanked everyone, and that was it.

I said “thank you” to Ale in French! And then he responded to me in French and smiled… but I didn’t understand what he said. But everyone smiles in the same language ;)

…We met a white African from England

Her name was Liz. She appeared to be from England, but then she said that she was from Kenya, and told us that she is a white African. She was staying in our Riad on business, working for a travel agency, based in England. It was with her that we proceeded to make payment arrangements for our mini-vacation in four different currencies…

…We paid for our vacation with four different currencies

On Saturday night, we asked Adidas when we would pay our tab. He suggested that we should wait until morning. We informed him that we might have to make our payment with credit or debit card, since we didn’t have enough cash in Euros between the two of us. (We spent the last of our Dirhams on lunch in Essaouira.) Then, Adidas arranged with Liz to take our credit card payment through her company, and then she would later transfer the money to him, in Dirhams. She spoke to us about the transfer-currency charges, and suggested that we use the rest of our cash to pay part of it, and then we could put the rest on the card. So, we did the calculations by hand… and then we:
-swiped Hali’s card for Liz, which she charged in pounds, because that’s the British currency

-verified the money that came out of Hali’s bank account, in dollars

-were assured by Liz that she would give the pounds back to the Riad, in Dirhams

-and paid the remaining balance to Dueño the next morning, in cash Euros.

#OnlyinMorocco!

I was most proud that we budgeted our vacation down to the last dollar (Euro!). One everything was paid for, all we were left with was a 50-Dirham bill, because we needed five Euros back, in cash change. SO PERFECT!

Too bad Adidas wasn't available when we left to get a picture... but here's me with  Dueño:

 

…We stirred our coffee with forks

Ale served us our last delightful Moroccan breakfast on Sunday morning, but we didn’t feel like going through the language-trouble of trying to explain that we were missing spoons. So we just stirred our coffee with forks ;)

…We couldn’t understand Arabic… We still can’t understand Arabic.

Self-explanatory.We can only understand it when a sign includes an English translation!

As long as we’re in Spain, we don’t need to understand Arabic!

The only time it was scary, was at the beginning, when the driver men at the airport were yelling/fighting in Arabic.

…We saw the coast of Africa from the sky

Boarding the plane...

 

…but we didn’t take a clear picture [of the African coast] in time.

 

And so ends the tale of once-in-a-lifetime-Moroccan adventures of Hali and Taylor. Over all, it was well-worth the money. Go big, or go home, right?!

Next weekend: to Valencia for Las Fallas!. With Jenna, Alejandra, and Angela. Staying in an apartment with Hali and her roommates, Daniella, Carolina, Julia, and Raquel. Should be fun!

Love, ~Taylor