Salam Wa Alaikum

Our trip to Morocco started out just like any other. Except for the fact that we had gone out the night before to celebrate my and Charlotte's birthday and that we had to meet at 7.30am. Beside that, we met at the usual meeting spot, hopped on a bus, headed to Algeciras, caught a ferry, arrived in Ceuta, hopped on another bus, went through customs at the border, drove through Ceuta and finally wound up in Tetuan.

We had a busy three days ahead of us based on the schedule they had handed out. I didn't really know what to expect, but was for some reason imagining that Morocco would be somewhat like Egypt. Desert-y, lots of people, hot, camels...I planned to enjoy all the sights and buy lots of cool Moroccan-y stuff.

When we got to Tetuan (where we would be staying each night), we met our guide for the next two days. He got on the bus and our "guide" that had taken us up to this point said, "We have a problem. Our guide Abdul only speaks Arabic and Swahili." He started going off in both languages and nobody had any idea what he was saying. Obviously this was a joke and he also spoke both English and Spanish, which he used interchangeably during our two days with him, often starting a sentence in one language and finishing in another. We loved Abdul, or Michael Douglas, as he said we could call him due to the "strong" resemblance. We also loved his three wives. Although some of us realized he was joking about that much sooner than others.

Our first stop in Tetuan was a school for training locals in the ways of Muslim art. This art is incredible and intricate and beautiful. It can be seen in the mosques all over Morocco, Egypt, etc. Also in many places in Spain, especially the Alhambra in Granada and the Alcázar here in Sevilla. The tiny patterns and shapes that they carve into woodwork, the amazing things they make out of ceramic, the amazing painting they do....it is all just incredible!

Ceramic artwork. I don't even know how they do it!

After a quick look around at all the amazing student's work, we headed for a little walking tour of Tetuan. We walked through some "medinas" or market/neighborhood areas. After seeing stall after stall of all sorts of Moroccan goodness, we headed to a restaurant for lunch. I'm not gonna lie, I considered the fact that Abdul was taking us into a dark side street to murder us. We were winding through narrower and more vacant streets at each turn. But eventually we made it. We had to stop and wait for the locals to finish their prayers before we could walk by the mosque to our destination. All of a sudden a giant crowd of barefooted men rushed past us, stopping every once in a while to put back on their shoes. After the crowd had dispersed, we went into the restaurant.

Now, I wasn't sure what to expect from Moroccan food. But Abdul had told us we would have couscous and soup for lunch. Two of my favorite things. So I was pretty excited. But if I had known the deliciousness that was to come, I would have probably passed out from excitement. First up was soup. I have eaten a lot of really good soup here in Spain, but this soup may have beat them all. It was a simple noodle-y, broth-y, tiny bit spicy soup. So good. Then came some sort of meat on a skewer. Not sure what kind it was, but it was very well-cooked and had all kinds of spices on it that made it deeelicious. Then it was time for the couscous. I've never seen so much couscous before. It was a GIANT platter piled sky-high with couscous, carrots, zucchini, garbanzo beans, cabbage, and I swear a whole chicken buried in there. I could have literally eaten the entire platter. But I held back because next was some fresh delicious mandarin oranges, suuuuuuper sweet mint tea, and an assortment of delicious cookies. I was in food heaven. After watching a belly-dancer and a man who flung fire around, we headed out to explore more of Tetuan.

COUSCOUS.

Tetuan is a big city, full of people. The markets areas that we went to are not visited by many other tourists. They are full of people selling things they have made or are in the process of making (people weaving and sewing right in their little storefront). There are people there buying whatever they need for the day or the week. There are people selling things on the street illegally, without a permit. Then there are cops who come and bust them and start chasing the sellers through the crowd while they are dragging their goods behind them on a tarp. It's really all just quite beautiful, in a very non-traditional sort of way.

Every once in a while while wandering around, Abdul would stop at a buddy's stall and show us some of his goods, explaining what this spice was good for, or what that dye was used for, or who used those garments. And every once in a while, he would be stopped by buddies calling him Michael Douglas and chatting for a bit after the traditional Moroccan handshake-a normal handshake but then they put their right hand over their heart as if to say that the person is in their heart. Love it. After seeing what must have been hundreds of stalls and walking down probably hundreds of little streets, we went to a tannery to see where they tan and process the leather. I was imagining a big factory, but it was basically just some holes in the ground filled with different chemicals. And animal hides hanging all over. From there, we went to a store where they sold all kinds of leather goods as well as many other souvenirs. We spent some time bartering for things (I bought a purse...which I haven't used yet because it smells like a dead animal. Which makes sense as that is what it is made out of...) and then headed for the hotel.

Adbul claims that there are something like 1800 streets in this part of the city. Which would make it incredibly easy to get lost. To never be found again, since there is no way one could communicate in Arabic without having studied the language. (Although fortunately seemingly everyone in Morocco speaks Spanish. It was pretty refreshing to have people resort to Spanish to communicate with us rather than English!). Because of the distinct and horrifying possibility of getting so hopelessly lost, we had what seemed like a hundred "helper-guides." Or security guards. Whatever you want to call them. There were actually only 2 or 3 of them. But they were EVERYWHERE. They were incredible. I kept getting a little bit behind most of the group as there were so many people and I was too polite to push through them or to stop them from getting in front of me. But the second I'd think I was lost (or even if I could see the group right ahead of me), one of the guides (usually Aziz) would be inexplicably right by my side telling me where to go. Or pushing people out of my way. Whatever it took. I eventually pretty much quit worrying about sticking right behind the group because I knew they would be right there to direct me or to beat off anyone who tried to touch/steal from me. (I'm not actually certain they would have done that, but feel like they basically would have done anything to keep us safe and happy).

The streets of Tetuan.

The tannery. And Michael Douglas.

After saying goodbye to our lovely body guards, we headed to the hotel for dinner. Which was kind of gross and consisted of cold fish and cold pasta and cold veggies. But whatever, lunch more than made up for it. After a good night's sleep, we got up early again the next day and headed to Asilah. Asilah is a much smaller town on the coast and is quite beautiful. The buildings are all white and blue, there is a beautiful view of the sea, and it is very peaceful. Except for the rude British tour guide who told us to "let my people go first" (which led to a shopkeeper singing "Let my people go" very dramatically!), and the man with the poor monkey on a chain, the city was absolutely lovely. The shops were all adorable and I got some really cool stuff for suuuper cheap.

Pretty Asilah

Next up was lunch (another DELICIOUS meal) and the Hercules Cave. This is a cave on the sea which is quite pretty but nothing too exciting. But then, it was time for camels. Everyone had been so excited the whole time about maybe getting to ride camels-asking if we could stop every time camels were spotted, talking about how that's all they cared about doing...I thought it might be a fun thing to do but wasn't really going to be that disappointed if it didn't happen. But it did happen! There were four camels to ride (and one baby camel), so we all took turns. The highway was on one side of us, which kind of ruined the ambiance, but on the other side was a cliff leading to the sea. So that kind of made up for it. I was in the last group to go, so after watching everyone gallump around on the camels, I hopped on one. My good friend Ali Baba carried me around in a circle while I was giggling and posing for pictures. It was quite windy on top of my friend the camel, but it was a beautiful view (if I looked to the right, anyway) and a fun little ride. Ali Baba then dumped me off (not literally. but almost.) and we hopped back on the bus, which then took us to Tanger.

La Cueva de Hercules.

:)

In my point of view, Tanger was a waste of time. We didn't actually spend much time there anyway, but there really wasn't anything to see. It was basically a tourist trap full of shops with way over-priced stuff that they wouldn't budge on the prices on. So we walked around, had fun joking with the shopkeepers and calling them out on their high prices, but then it was time to go. Back to the hotel it was for dinner (better this time) and bed.

In the morning, we packed our stuff up and headed to Chefchaouen. We were all pretty tired and I was just expecting another city like those we had already seen. But this was the best of both worlds-the small streets and shops like in Tetuan plus the beauty of Asilah. Plus an amazing countryside surrounding the entire city. We had a little historical tour but then it was time to explore on our own. We wandered around through the little side streets searching for treasures to bring back home. A man came up to me and said he'd take me to his shop to show me some pretty rugs and blankets. So me and a couple other girls followed him. But the farther he took us away from where we had been, the more I questioned my wisdom and decision-making skills. I though again that he was perhaps going to lead us to a quite place to murder us. But eventually we made it to his shop. Where he did have some nice blankets and rugs but nothing I really wanted and nothing that I was willing to pay as much as he wanted for. So we left there and kept wandering around. I found a beautiful blanket in a tiny little shop that was blaring pop music. Sofie and I found some cool bags in giant shop that was never-ending. The owner's son kept following us around turning on lights and showing us where the stairs were as we wound our way through all four or five floors of the shop. We found some amazing spices, some tea, some dried fruit, some cookies...whatever you would want, you could find it in this city. After our free time was up, we headed to lunch (yet another scrumptious meal full of mystery meat and tea!) and then it was sadly time to leave. I could have spent three more days in that city finding all kids of fun things. But we had to make it back to Ceuta in time to catch our ferry. And since the highway on the way was lined with people buying and selling sheep for the festival of Eid (each family sacrifices a sheep to honor Abraham's willingness to sacrifice his son), they knew the traffic would be slow. After a little snoozing on the bus, some sheep-selling sights, and going through the border again, we made it to the ferry. Then it was heading for home! We made it back at about 11pm, exhausted and smelling like Morocco.

So beautiful.

Village laundromat

Need a sheep?

My favorite thing about traveling is experiencing other cultures and seeing how other people in other lands live. For this reason, I love traveling to places that are drastically different from the culture I am accustomed to. Morocco certainly fit the bill. I loved the overly crowded streets, the call to prayer that is sounded 5 times daily in accordance with Muslim tradition, the smell of spices and animals and people, the super-sweet tea, the language of which I have not even an inkling of understanding, the white-white buildings with blue-blue walls, the dress of the locals, the beautiful handshake, the camels, the small but observable customs and traditions, the warmth of the people, the traditional greeting Salam Wa Alaikum (peace be upon you)...

There are some things about Morocco that I will probably forget after a while. Like the hours spent in a bus that constantly made me carsick, the annoyance at the tourist-ness of Tanger...But then there are the things that I think and hope that I will always remember. The smell (which will probably never come out of some of the things I wore and bought there), the feeling of being so different but so much the same, the incredible food, the conversations with shopkeepers while bartering for their goods...all things that make the difference between a vacation and a cultural experience. There is no point in traveling if all you're looking for is something just like home.

(photos)