Last weekend, all of the CIEE students went on a large bus to Marrakech. Marrakech is beehive of touristy activity, but nonetheless, very entertaining. Because most of its walls were created from the pink sandstone of the atlas mountains, Marrakech gives of a deep pink glow during the day. The Medina is absolutely huge. Getting lost is not only a must, but inevitable. Turn to your left and there is an entire quartier of iron smiths; turn to your right, and you are confronted with rows and rows of silk thread used to make the gorgeous tekshetas and caftans that vendors attempt to sell to you for outrageous prices. When in Marrakech, you need to come armed with a hearty appetite for bargaining and sense of humor. The vendors are quite funny and charming...until they ask you to send them a picture of yourself on MSN messenger (a chat service that appears to function as the main communication line between members of the opposite sex here in Morocco). After wandering through the souks, you emerge on a large square that is filled with "blue people" (berbers from the south region who tend to wear periwinkle blue garments) selling various remedies for all types of ailments. Whether anyone (including the vendors themselves) takes these remedies seriously is anyone's guess. It seems more of a tourist trap than a legitimate pharmacy.
The first day we arrived, we took a tour of several important old buildings in Marrakech. The first of which was the katoubia mosque (named for the street of booksellers behind the mosque--kitEHb is the word for book in derija). Built in the 11th century, the Katoubia mosque holds 20000 worshippers and has three balls on the top of its minaret that were donated by royal princess during the 13th century. Now brass, the three balls used to be solid gold. The second building we visited was the palace of Bahria, named for the fourth wife of a wealthy vizier in Marrakech. In traditional Islam, one can only take four wives, so while the first wife holds all the power, the most beloved is the fourth. It was grandiose, but certain portions (like the harem) have fallen into disrepair. Many historical sites in Morocco are in similar condition because of the lack of government funding (not because the goverment is not giving money but because of the sheer amount of historical sites). Regardless of how much money is given, each room needs a team of skilled craftsmen to repair the intricate tile designs and carved cedar ceilings, and so the money drains very quickly. Within the palace, there is an arboretum of rare international trees, the most interesting of which is poisonous, and therefore had been used several times to kill of various members of the vizier's family. After wandering through the groves of lemon and fig trees we moved on to the Medina Madersa (school). It was built in the 13th century and was used as an Islamic studies school until 1975. It housed about 800 students in tiny (i am talking 5 feet by 6 feet or smaller) rooms surrounding a main courtyard. In each of these dorm rooms, up to four to five people slept and studied. I felt claustrophobic just thinking about it. All of the students were fed by local Medina families as a charity, and students sometimes remained there for as many as 11 years studying and memorizing and learning the proper way to sing the Koran.
After leaving these hallowed halls of learning, we piled into our bus and were carted off to what i would describe as the Moroccan disneyland. Tired performers entertained us while we picked meat off a sliced in half lamb carcass (head included). The meat was a little tough, but really it wasn't half bad. After the rather large, bland meal, we followed our entertainers out to this ring where we watched a horse show involving physical stunts and extremely loud gunshots with about 3000 other tourists. It was not a highlight, although it has caused a good deal of laughs amongst our group.
During the evenings, most of the group went out dancing at our hotel's night club...le diamant noir (black diamond). Hmmm, how to put this delicately...the women in our group were honestly the only non-prostitutes there. I am not kidding. Luckily, since we weren't wearing mesh shirts and skirts so short that even we Americans found them rather scandalous, none of us were bothered by the large population of sleazy men at the club. Since the focus of the club for most of the patrons was not the dancing, CIEE proceeded to take over the dance floor and worked our moves to the likes of "the rainbow song" (techno song played EVERYWHERE, ALL THE TIME), "ymca", and "Mesmerize" (ashanti, ja rule, for those of you who don't know this classic hit of the early 2000s). It was a great deal of fun had by all. And rather interesting to watch socially. Sexuality is not something you ever ever see in Moroccan society, so watching it full force and in your face was quite the experience.
Overall, Marrakech was marvelous, and provided a jump start to our 10 day semester break. Currently, i am in a small town in the Atlas mountains called Ouarzazate, and only four days into our marvelous break. We have to catch a grand taxi to the Saffron-growing region of the country, so i have to run, but I promise to write again soon. Sneak peak: Maggee falls ill, receives Berber medicinal treatments, rides a camel, and gets caught in a rainstorm...in the Sahara.
A la prochaine!
B'slema
Magpie
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Coq Magic and Hassan the Carpet Man
*If you havent read the post below this, read it first and then read this one*
After our big Moroccan fete, my friend Janet and I decided to spend the weekend in the small university town of Meknes. We arrived at around 12:00 pm, and so we decided to walk around to look for lunch, before heading up to the palace of despot Sultan Moulay Ismail and the Medina. Thank God we did, because we found the most amusing restaurant. It was called "Coq Magic"...naturally we had to go there. The owner thought it was hilarious that we couldnt stop laughing for long enough to order our roast chicken. The owner talked to us while we ate our meal and told us that lots of english speakers like to take pictures of the restaurant, but he doesnt understand why. Janet and i looked at each other, but neither of us had the nerve to tell him it was a rather hilarious innuendo.
After having our fill of Coq Magic we grabbed a petit taxi up to the palace and mausoleum of Moulay Ismail. Moulay Ismail has a rather interesting history. He is revered for uniting Morocco in the 18th century, but also frowned upon for massive amount of death inflicted by both his ministers and himself. Indeed, at one point he had about 4000 christian slaves who built walls for him all over Mekness. Moulay Ismail was obsessed with walls, and wanted to build a palace as grand as Versailles. Ironically, in his haste to build the walls, he neglected to use good materials and so most of the walls were crumbling even before the end of his reign. However, his granaries and store rooms are absolutely mindblowing. Advertised as the prison of christian slaves, our guidebook informed us that in actuality the "prison" was most likely a storeroom. However, it was very atmospheric, and all i could think of was the Count of Monte Cristo. Underground were seven hectares of thirty foot vaults, with a skylight twelve inches in diameter at the top of each vault. Janet and I wandered around in the cool dark vaults for about thirty minutes before ascending the steep staircase into the bright yellow courtyards of Meknes.
Wanting to take a break from all the crumbling walls, we headed for the Meknes medina. The Medina of Meknes is painted in alternatively in either a bright warm yellow, or a bright pink. It is quite beautiful and a lot more calm than the Rabat medina. We were wandering around when Janet spotted some Berber jewellry she liked. THe proprietor invited us inside his shop (always a big decision because the pressure to buy something becomes infinitely greater) to learn about Berber carpets. He offered us mint tea and started to explain and display his wares. It was very interesting, and he explained the differences in the make of each carpet and the function of each carpet in the Berber world. His french was very easy to understand, and Janet and i were having a ball! As it turned out, he knew our Anthropology professor, Hassan Rachik, who is a big name in the Berber community. WE continued talking about anything but buying carpets for about an hour until this AMerican man walked in the door. From Colorado, Samer had known Hassan the carpet man for eight years, having befriended him on his first trip to Morocco. Samer told us that he was a really nice guy and that while we should bargain, that he generally sold carpets for a reasonable price. THis was great news because Meknes is known for its cheaper-than-Fes-or-Marrakech carpets. We departed from Hassan promising to return after visiting the Mausoleum. Upon returning to the carpet souk, Hassan took us on a back roads tour of the medina and showed us courtyards covered with cascading grape vines and ancient, gnarled trees, bright pink alleyways so narrow my small backpack brushed either side, and silver demascene workshops where men hunched over copper plates pounding silver thread to create intricate designs. We returned to the shop after our tour and had more tea and cookies and he finally revealed his starting price for my favorite, gorgeous Berber carpet. I informed him that it was way too much and that I had to save my money for the rest of my trip, and that i had to talk to my parents etc etc. We ended the night promising to return with my final price the next day, and we headed out the door.
Janet and I grabbed a petit taxi down to the train station where we met our cousin's mother, with whome we were staying overnight. A nurse at a local hospital, Aziza lives about an hour outside Meknes and walks 2 miles from her house to the grand taxi station and than another 3 miles to her hospital twice a day for work. Needless to say, she is a pretty amazing woman. SHe cooked us dinner, made our beds, and left us breakfast in the morning. It was lovely...although we did have our first experience with a squat toilet. It was confusing, and we had to call another family member to explain what the bucket of water was for (to flush) and whether or not we could use toilet paper (you can).
THe next day we returned to Hassan the carpet man, ater haggling a little more, we brought the price down. Just then, the American returned to say goodbye to Hassan, and asked us how much we were paying for the carpet. I told him, and he said, woah, I have known these guys for eight years and i have never purchased a carpet at a lower price than that. Make sure you thank them! So at the end of the weekend, we ended up with a new Berber folk carpet for my room at KU and a new family friend. Hassan kissed us twice on each cheek (a sign of affection in Morocco) and told us that should we ever return, to make sure to visit, and that he wanted us to have couscous with his family. As Meknes is only two hours away, Janet and I intend to return to visit Hassan within the month for more wonderful conversation and good home cooking!
Well, that is about it for Morocco at the moment. Our group is headed for Marrakech on friday so I will post about that trip soon after returning on monday night! Hope to hear from you all!
Love and peace
Magpie
p.s. forgot to mention that Moulay Ismail had a chariot that he rode that was alternatively pulled by either women from his harem or his court of eunuchs!
After our big Moroccan fete, my friend Janet and I decided to spend the weekend in the small university town of Meknes. We arrived at around 12:00 pm, and so we decided to walk around to look for lunch, before heading up to the palace of despot Sultan Moulay Ismail and the Medina. Thank God we did, because we found the most amusing restaurant. It was called "Coq Magic"...naturally we had to go there. The owner thought it was hilarious that we couldnt stop laughing for long enough to order our roast chicken. The owner talked to us while we ate our meal and told us that lots of english speakers like to take pictures of the restaurant, but he doesnt understand why. Janet and i looked at each other, but neither of us had the nerve to tell him it was a rather hilarious innuendo.
After having our fill of Coq Magic we grabbed a petit taxi up to the palace and mausoleum of Moulay Ismail. Moulay Ismail has a rather interesting history. He is revered for uniting Morocco in the 18th century, but also frowned upon for massive amount of death inflicted by both his ministers and himself. Indeed, at one point he had about 4000 christian slaves who built walls for him all over Mekness. Moulay Ismail was obsessed with walls, and wanted to build a palace as grand as Versailles. Ironically, in his haste to build the walls, he neglected to use good materials and so most of the walls were crumbling even before the end of his reign. However, his granaries and store rooms are absolutely mindblowing. Advertised as the prison of christian slaves, our guidebook informed us that in actuality the "prison" was most likely a storeroom. However, it was very atmospheric, and all i could think of was the Count of Monte Cristo. Underground were seven hectares of thirty foot vaults, with a skylight twelve inches in diameter at the top of each vault. Janet and I wandered around in the cool dark vaults for about thirty minutes before ascending the steep staircase into the bright yellow courtyards of Meknes.
Wanting to take a break from all the crumbling walls, we headed for the Meknes medina. The Medina of Meknes is painted in alternatively in either a bright warm yellow, or a bright pink. It is quite beautiful and a lot more calm than the Rabat medina. We were wandering around when Janet spotted some Berber jewellry she liked. THe proprietor invited us inside his shop (always a big decision because the pressure to buy something becomes infinitely greater) to learn about Berber carpets. He offered us mint tea and started to explain and display his wares. It was very interesting, and he explained the differences in the make of each carpet and the function of each carpet in the Berber world. His french was very easy to understand, and Janet and i were having a ball! As it turned out, he knew our Anthropology professor, Hassan Rachik, who is a big name in the Berber community. WE continued talking about anything but buying carpets for about an hour until this AMerican man walked in the door. From Colorado, Samer had known Hassan the carpet man for eight years, having befriended him on his first trip to Morocco. Samer told us that he was a really nice guy and that while we should bargain, that he generally sold carpets for a reasonable price. THis was great news because Meknes is known for its cheaper-than-Fes-or-Marrakech carpets. We departed from Hassan promising to return after visiting the Mausoleum. Upon returning to the carpet souk, Hassan took us on a back roads tour of the medina and showed us courtyards covered with cascading grape vines and ancient, gnarled trees, bright pink alleyways so narrow my small backpack brushed either side, and silver demascene workshops where men hunched over copper plates pounding silver thread to create intricate designs. We returned to the shop after our tour and had more tea and cookies and he finally revealed his starting price for my favorite, gorgeous Berber carpet. I informed him that it was way too much and that I had to save my money for the rest of my trip, and that i had to talk to my parents etc etc. We ended the night promising to return with my final price the next day, and we headed out the door.
Janet and I grabbed a petit taxi down to the train station where we met our cousin's mother, with whome we were staying overnight. A nurse at a local hospital, Aziza lives about an hour outside Meknes and walks 2 miles from her house to the grand taxi station and than another 3 miles to her hospital twice a day for work. Needless to say, she is a pretty amazing woman. SHe cooked us dinner, made our beds, and left us breakfast in the morning. It was lovely...although we did have our first experience with a squat toilet. It was confusing, and we had to call another family member to explain what the bucket of water was for (to flush) and whether or not we could use toilet paper (you can).
THe next day we returned to Hassan the carpet man, ater haggling a little more, we brought the price down. Just then, the American returned to say goodbye to Hassan, and asked us how much we were paying for the carpet. I told him, and he said, woah, I have known these guys for eight years and i have never purchased a carpet at a lower price than that. Make sure you thank them! So at the end of the weekend, we ended up with a new Berber folk carpet for my room at KU and a new family friend. Hassan kissed us twice on each cheek (a sign of affection in Morocco) and told us that should we ever return, to make sure to visit, and that he wanted us to have couscous with his family. As Meknes is only two hours away, Janet and I intend to return to visit Hassan within the month for more wonderful conversation and good home cooking!
Well, that is about it for Morocco at the moment. Our group is headed for Marrakech on friday so I will post about that trip soon after returning on monday night! Hope to hear from you all!
Love and peace
Magpie
p.s. forgot to mention that Moulay Ismail had a chariot that he rode that was alternatively pulled by either women from his harem or his court of eunuchs!
Eid Mobarak Said!
Well, Ramadan is finally over, to the relief of everyone in Morocco. The end of Ramadan is called the Eid, and like Thanksgiving, it is a time for family and food. We woke up rather early by Moroccan standards (10am), and dressed in traditional jelebba (they kind of look like big robes with pointed hoods...which then in turn look like KKK members when you have the hood up...except everyone wears brightly colored jelebbas, but it is still kind of disconcerting) and caftan (jelebba without the hoods) and we went over to the the family house in Temara. A note about Moroccan dress: everyone matches everything to the same color. If you wear a blue shirt you where dark blue or light blue pants with blue shoes, a blue bag, and blue sunglasses. Essentially, you have to stay within one color. As a result of this matching, my sister Selma thinks i am incapable of dressing myself. The other day she told me that, "Betule, you put very odd colors together", and i said, "actually matching complementary colors together is quite normal in the US". At any rate, I was dressed entirely in pink for the occasion. We essentially sat around and talked and ate a huge taijine of couscous with vegetables and chicken in it. It was phenomenal. Couscous is a very time consuming and expensive dish to make here, so most families only have couscous on friday for lunch, and so it is kind of a big deal when couscous is cooked for you on a day other than friday.
During the evening we took up a common Moroccan activity: watching wedding videos. Apparently watching wedding videos is very very popular here, and it doesnt really matter whether anyone knows the people getting married in the video. They are the longest home videos of all time. Luckily we were watching Madiha and Steve's wedding, so at least i knew some of the people. Moroccan weddings last about 3 days...straight. The first day is a religious day, the second is for henna, and the third is the actual wedding. During all these days there is dancing and eating and celebrating. In fact, on the final day, Madiha's wedding went until 7 am the next morning. The brides also go through about 6 dress changes, while the grooms go through 3. It looks exhausting, but fun.
The next day, we had a "beach day", but in Morocco, this means that we arrived at the beach after waiting around all day for lunch (at 3:30pm) at 4:40 pm. Moroccan time is lovely when it postpones class, but it is unbelievably frustrating when it is delaying something fun, like the beach. Nevertheless, we had a great time and swam in the ocean and played soccer on the beach with the family.
On Friday, Madiha (our program coordinator, whose family i am staying with ) arranged a huge Moroccan party for the CIEE kids. Everyone was dressed in their Moroccan finery (tekshetas, caftans, jelebbas, etc), and the whole house was transformed to accomodate five or six tables, dance space, and a traditional band. When we walked in we were offered creamy milk (fresh from the family farm 20 minutes away) and dates filled with almond paste; a traditional Moroccan greeting. AFter this we had tea, cookies, music, henna, and dancing. Dancing here is very different and is really fun. Everyone dances. And you dance with everyone: little kids, grandmas, cousins, aunts, uncles etc. After the huge amount of dancing, we sat down, exhausted for a dinner of couscous with carmelized onions, raisins, and roasted almonds. The spices in the onion/raisin topping were heavenly, and it was my favorite couscous dish thus far. At midnight, all the American kids became tired and all the Moroccans kept dancing. We sat on the couch and marveled at their energy. It seems endless!
Since everyone gets out of school and work for the Eid, we still had the whole weekend to travel. Janet and I decided to go to Meknes. However, so many and exciting things happened, that I will write a different post for our weekend.
Love and miss you all
Magpie
During the evening we took up a common Moroccan activity: watching wedding videos. Apparently watching wedding videos is very very popular here, and it doesnt really matter whether anyone knows the people getting married in the video. They are the longest home videos of all time. Luckily we were watching Madiha and Steve's wedding, so at least i knew some of the people. Moroccan weddings last about 3 days...straight. The first day is a religious day, the second is for henna, and the third is the actual wedding. During all these days there is dancing and eating and celebrating. In fact, on the final day, Madiha's wedding went until 7 am the next morning. The brides also go through about 6 dress changes, while the grooms go through 3. It looks exhausting, but fun.
The next day, we had a "beach day", but in Morocco, this means that we arrived at the beach after waiting around all day for lunch (at 3:30pm) at 4:40 pm. Moroccan time is lovely when it postpones class, but it is unbelievably frustrating when it is delaying something fun, like the beach. Nevertheless, we had a great time and swam in the ocean and played soccer on the beach with the family.
On Friday, Madiha (our program coordinator, whose family i am staying with ) arranged a huge Moroccan party for the CIEE kids. Everyone was dressed in their Moroccan finery (tekshetas, caftans, jelebbas, etc), and the whole house was transformed to accomodate five or six tables, dance space, and a traditional band. When we walked in we were offered creamy milk (fresh from the family farm 20 minutes away) and dates filled with almond paste; a traditional Moroccan greeting. AFter this we had tea, cookies, music, henna, and dancing. Dancing here is very different and is really fun. Everyone dances. And you dance with everyone: little kids, grandmas, cousins, aunts, uncles etc. After the huge amount of dancing, we sat down, exhausted for a dinner of couscous with carmelized onions, raisins, and roasted almonds. The spices in the onion/raisin topping were heavenly, and it was my favorite couscous dish thus far. At midnight, all the American kids became tired and all the Moroccans kept dancing. We sat on the couch and marveled at their energy. It seems endless!
Since everyone gets out of school and work for the Eid, we still had the whole weekend to travel. Janet and I decided to go to Meknes. However, so many and exciting things happened, that I will write a different post for our weekend.
Love and miss you all
Magpie
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Spice Girls, The Advantages of Sunglasses, And Other Stories
Salem Aleikum!
First of all, let me apologize that it has been too long since my last blog. School began in full this week and it was rather difficult to find time. Also, my computer wont turn on, so that makes things a joy.
Well, Casa was as we expected: seedy, dangerous, and rather...well...gross. The highlights were definitely the Casa cathedral (a massive art deco cathedral with stunning stained glass now used as an exhibition center), and the Hassan II mosque. After traipsing around in the heat for hours we suddenly came upon this gorgeous cathedral. we went inside, mainly to get away from the heat and were surprised by the lack of...everything. it basically looked like an art gallery...which, as it turned out, was accurate. the guard was kind enough to let us up into one of the massive towers and we spent 20 minutes dodging huge piles of pigeon poop (i honestly didnt know that birds could produce this amount of waste) and making comparisons to the movie Vertigo on the way up. once we got to the top, it was totally worth it. it provided a marvelous view of the entire city of Casa, and a fresh breeze was blowing in from the part of the port that didnt smell strongly of rotting fish. which was great.
the next day we went to the mosque Hassan II which is one of two mosques that non-muslims can enter in morocco. it was build between 1987 and 1993 and employed 10,000 specialty craftsmen alone (not including the builders), who worked continuously (24/7/365) to complete this beast of a building. Everything is either tiled (with 20-30 pieces of tile to each block of about 6 by 6 inches) or carved cedar wood that is then laquered and painted. It can fit the entirety of St.Peter's basilica in Rome comfortably inside it. and the cedar roof opens automatically in less than 3 minutes. it is absolutely astounding. Everything in it originated from Morocco except for the Venetian glass chandeliers (of which there are around 60) and two columns of white italian marble. It sits over looking the Atlantic ocean and is based on the verse of the Qu'aran (sp?) "God's throne sits upon the water". 25000 worshippers pray the 5 daily prayers there every day. 20,000 men and 5,000 women. I cant really fully explain the immensity of this building. Simply put, it is the most awe inspiring building i have ever seen.
Aside from my trip to Casa, I learned a few other things about Moroccan society this week. The first thing is that being called a "spice girl" is not quite as cool as it sounds. For some reason, men tend to shout this phrase at any foreign female who passes. However, it is preferable to straight up prostitution offers. they get old, quite quickly. as do offers to have an "english speaking partner". As a result, i have a new found appreciation of sunglasses. I cannot begin to exlpain the bliss of being able to observe the people around you without getting harassed for accidentally making eye contact. As members of our group have come to say, "we wear our hater-blockers during the day".
On friday, i fasted for the first and last time in my life. It was the most exhausting day of my life and i felt ill well into the next day. My family wanted me to wear the large cream colored robe a girl wears the first time she fasts to fatour, but i refused. i am already nicknamed bethoule ( a really old lady's name) and dont need another reason for my host family to chuckle at my pathetic attempts to not spill food on myself as i eat with my hands. Thank god, we had a massive dinner party at my house that night (which means pj's for everyone and rolling on the floor in agony as my host mother brings out yet another dish). One of my favorite things about moroccan meals is the fact that everyone eats intheir pjs. Guests walk into the house and promptly remove their outerwear to reveal their pajamas. it is hands down the best tradition of all time. The meal consisted of a traditional fatour meal with eggs, dates, mini-quiches, lots of greasy flat breads, pizzas and these little brown balls that kind of resemble horse apples but taste much better. As it turns out, these balls are incredible good for you. To list a few of the ingredients (all hand toasted and ground by hand), garbanzo beans, almonds, sesame seeds, hazlenuts, flax seed, flax seed oil, and about a million spices. When you travel long distances in morocco, everyone brings a bag of these with them and then one doesnt have to stop for food. they are extremely filling. After the first course, came moroccan whisky (mint tea) with pancakes, and breewats (the sweet kind). After that came a vegetable course withlots of almonds and homemade savory breewats (which i spent about 2 hours making with my host sister the day before) . AFter that came a vegetable tajine and crepes filled with ground lamb and tomatoes. Finally, we finished off the meal at 1:30 a.m. with a fresh bowl of fruit salad. It was incredible.
Yesterday some friends and i went to Chellah (a roman/arab ruins site in rabat). it was incredibly hot and we wandered amongst the hundreds of cats (which you ahve to donate money to help feed them) and mainly kept to the shade of the ancient arches topped with stork nests. It was gorgeous and the fort looks out over the water, which makes the whole setting quite picturesque. AFter that we proceeded to get stuck at the beach during amassive thunder storm, which was actually kind of run..
well that is all i have been up to. hopefully i will post soon.
love and peace
mags
First of all, let me apologize that it has been too long since my last blog. School began in full this week and it was rather difficult to find time. Also, my computer wont turn on, so that makes things a joy.
Well, Casa was as we expected: seedy, dangerous, and rather...well...gross. The highlights were definitely the Casa cathedral (a massive art deco cathedral with stunning stained glass now used as an exhibition center), and the Hassan II mosque. After traipsing around in the heat for hours we suddenly came upon this gorgeous cathedral. we went inside, mainly to get away from the heat and were surprised by the lack of...everything. it basically looked like an art gallery...which, as it turned out, was accurate. the guard was kind enough to let us up into one of the massive towers and we spent 20 minutes dodging huge piles of pigeon poop (i honestly didnt know that birds could produce this amount of waste) and making comparisons to the movie Vertigo on the way up. once we got to the top, it was totally worth it. it provided a marvelous view of the entire city of Casa, and a fresh breeze was blowing in from the part of the port that didnt smell strongly of rotting fish. which was great.
the next day we went to the mosque Hassan II which is one of two mosques that non-muslims can enter in morocco. it was build between 1987 and 1993 and employed 10,000 specialty craftsmen alone (not including the builders), who worked continuously (24/7/365) to complete this beast of a building. Everything is either tiled (with 20-30 pieces of tile to each block of about 6 by 6 inches) or carved cedar wood that is then laquered and painted. It can fit the entirety of St.Peter's basilica in Rome comfortably inside it. and the cedar roof opens automatically in less than 3 minutes. it is absolutely astounding. Everything in it originated from Morocco except for the Venetian glass chandeliers (of which there are around 60) and two columns of white italian marble. It sits over looking the Atlantic ocean and is based on the verse of the Qu'aran (sp?) "God's throne sits upon the water". 25000 worshippers pray the 5 daily prayers there every day. 20,000 men and 5,000 women. I cant really fully explain the immensity of this building. Simply put, it is the most awe inspiring building i have ever seen.
Aside from my trip to Casa, I learned a few other things about Moroccan society this week. The first thing is that being called a "spice girl" is not quite as cool as it sounds. For some reason, men tend to shout this phrase at any foreign female who passes. However, it is preferable to straight up prostitution offers. they get old, quite quickly. as do offers to have an "english speaking partner". As a result, i have a new found appreciation of sunglasses. I cannot begin to exlpain the bliss of being able to observe the people around you without getting harassed for accidentally making eye contact. As members of our group have come to say, "we wear our hater-blockers during the day".
On friday, i fasted for the first and last time in my life. It was the most exhausting day of my life and i felt ill well into the next day. My family wanted me to wear the large cream colored robe a girl wears the first time she fasts to fatour, but i refused. i am already nicknamed bethoule ( a really old lady's name) and dont need another reason for my host family to chuckle at my pathetic attempts to not spill food on myself as i eat with my hands. Thank god, we had a massive dinner party at my house that night (which means pj's for everyone and rolling on the floor in agony as my host mother brings out yet another dish). One of my favorite things about moroccan meals is the fact that everyone eats intheir pjs. Guests walk into the house and promptly remove their outerwear to reveal their pajamas. it is hands down the best tradition of all time. The meal consisted of a traditional fatour meal with eggs, dates, mini-quiches, lots of greasy flat breads, pizzas and these little brown balls that kind of resemble horse apples but taste much better. As it turns out, these balls are incredible good for you. To list a few of the ingredients (all hand toasted and ground by hand), garbanzo beans, almonds, sesame seeds, hazlenuts, flax seed, flax seed oil, and about a million spices. When you travel long distances in morocco, everyone brings a bag of these with them and then one doesnt have to stop for food. they are extremely filling. After the first course, came moroccan whisky (mint tea) with pancakes, and breewats (the sweet kind). After that came a vegetable course withlots of almonds and homemade savory breewats (which i spent about 2 hours making with my host sister the day before) . AFter that came a vegetable tajine and crepes filled with ground lamb and tomatoes. Finally, we finished off the meal at 1:30 a.m. with a fresh bowl of fruit salad. It was incredible.
Yesterday some friends and i went to Chellah (a roman/arab ruins site in rabat). it was incredibly hot and we wandered amongst the hundreds of cats (which you ahve to donate money to help feed them) and mainly kept to the shade of the ancient arches topped with stork nests. It was gorgeous and the fort looks out over the water, which makes the whole setting quite picturesque. AFter that we proceeded to get stuck at the beach during amassive thunder storm, which was actually kind of run..
well that is all i have been up to. hopefully i will post soon.
love and peace
mags
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Ramadan--Food Galore!
Dear friends and fam,
Because Ramadan started last tuesday, food has been a large part (and during the day...a small part) of Moroccan life. During every lunch, all of the students traveling with me forage for food in the surrounding hanouts and mechbeza's (convenience stores and bread stores). Generally lunch consists of moroccan pancakes, jam, and any number of banana's and peaches. Moroccan pancakes are light and fluffy and kind of look like round, thin sponges. THey are delicious with some of the local honey or jam slathered on top.
However, that lack of food drastically changes as soon as the call to prayer occurs every evening at sundown. As soon as i hear the minarets projecting the nasal voice of...the minaret attendant??, i hop out of my comfy bed by the window, and run into the living room where my family is gathering to eat the first of the evening meals. My sister Selma (19) usually brings in an assortment of fresh juices (especially popular here are banana milk, carrot milk, cucumber juice, and strawberry juice), and my aunt Karima and mother Mouna bring in various soups. There is almost always herira, a tomato-based soup traditionally used to break fast, and usually a noodle or spinach soup. At the table are seated my father Omar, my brother Hemet, and my younger sister Miriam. Along with the soups, there are usually breewats (tiny sweet samosas with roasted sweet almonds on the inside and smothered in honey on the outside), shebekia (sweet cookies made with orange flower water, deep fried, and dipped in honey and sesame seeds), dates, eggs, and various buttery flatbreads. ANd that is just the first meal! The second occurs at around 11 pm, but im usually asleep for it, as I have 6 hours of derija (moroccan arabic) every day for which i must be awake. Another meal occurs just before sunrise at 4:30 or 5, although this is a personal preference as to whether or not one eats at this time. Selma absolutely refuses to get up for it. Yeah, Ramadan is pretty great at night. Everyone is out on the street, playing soccer, dancing, walking along the beach, or shopping.
Another popular activity after dinner is going to the hammams. These are local bath houses, and I love them. Selma and I go once a week, and being there is the most relaxed, and most clean i have ever felt in my life. There are three steam rooms of varying temperature, and once you pick your temperature preference, you lay down a mat to sit on and fill up numerous buckets with steaming hot water (or cold, if you are about to leave). Then a nice woman comes over and takes a very rough glove (which you bring yourself) and literally rubs you down. Layers and layers of skin slough off onto the floor and are washed into the drain. It is actually unbelievably gross to see the amount of skin that comes off. EVeryone makes fun of me because i turn pink with the scrubbing, and the scrubber-lady had never seen that before. THen you soap up with special henna soap that you buy at the front door and you sit and relax. About an hour or two later, you leave feeling the best you have felt in days.
My father has nine brothers and sisters, so most nights we go to the family house in a little beach town about 10 kilometres from my house. THere are usually about 15-20 people sitting on the gazillions of couches drinking tea and talking. It is wonderful. One of my "cousins" takes me runnning about 3 times a week, and is convinced that im going to pass out every time we go because, again, my face turns pink when i run. Everyone thinks it is hilarious that they can spot me across the beach because I am so white. Ha. Ha. Ha. At the end of Ramadan, my family is hosting huge party with a Moroccan band in order to teach all of the exchange students how to dance. In the next week or two, they also want to dress me up in traditional Moroccan and Berber dress. It should be fun i think.
Im getting around Rabat primarily by bus, and so a few funny things have happened to me. Yesterday, I was in the front seat and suddenly, i saw a man about 50 yds ahead of us in the middle of the road. We barreled towards him and right before we hit him (less than 2 yds ahead of us) he dove out of the way. Not realizing that this was normal, i screamed, "Holy shit!" quite loudly. Everyone started laughing, and reassured me for the rest of the ride that everything was "oookay". Moroccans are so kind and helpful, that though they thought it was funny, they were concerned that i was scared. Which i was.
Well that is about it for now. I will try and update this as much as possible, but im only promising 1 update a week.
This weekend im going to Casablanca to lay on the beach and maybe...just maybe...find a restaurant where i can have a beer during Ramadan...but let's be honest, I probably wont find one.
Love
Magpie
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