Today was my the most glorious day back in Spain as it was my first day back from Morocco. I didn't notice the smell, dog poop on the ground, ample bread with sparce veggies, or anything else that used to bother me...Why? Because I experience first hand that it can ALWAYS be worse! That being said, Morocco was actually amazing. I have more or less a love hate relationship with it however. A group of about 60 students, mostly American, embarked for the African continent at 4 am Friday morning to cross the straight of Gibraltar 3 hours later. My roommate and I thought strategically that if we stayed out all night until it was time to leave then we'd sleep like babies during the long trip. Everything went to plan until the rain started as we boarded the ferry to cross the straight. The first few waves were fun, then our laughs got a little more nervous. My laugh altered into a silent sweat as I noticed everyone around me is sleeping peacefully from the dramamine that I failed to take. "Shit," I think to myself as I hear the glasses from the bar clash together. I practice my yoga breath until the boat takes on a wave so huge that as it goes down the other side there is a huge crashing noise that wakes EVERYONE. We complete the crossing and I refuse to throw up when we disembark...that was a success. We then reboard the bus (that crossed the ferry with us!) and continue to the Morocco boarder. Nothing exciting there except we weren't allowed to take pictures, so there's probably some sketch action going on there. After another 12 hours or so in a friggin tour bus we arrive at our hotel in Fes, Morocco. We ate like Vikings and went straight to bed because the next day we had a tour. I'm peacefully stretched out in my bed, middle of the night, when I hear this loud siren. "What the hell?" is all I can think. I lay still and it keeps going. I try to figure out what it is saying or if I'm completely hallusinating. It sort of sounds like an old school evacuation or a hurricane alert on the Hawaiian islands. Being the proactive individual that I am I get out of bed and go to the window, pull the curtain back, and realize I'm probably the only person in the world phased by whatever is going on as the rest of the city is completely peaceful. Whatever...I went back to bed. Day one: tour of fes and fes Medina (which I really still don't know what it is). Bus tour wasn't too exciting, we got to go to the gates of one of the kings palaces and see a view of fes Medina, which is only a sight to see if you're from a third world country (no offense to anyone). Meanwhile our tour guide is telling the bus that since 9/11 not many American's have visited, and that we're missing our second home and we're so welcome here and we'd want to retire in fes Medina after seeing it. He also said that the United States and Morocco have never had any problems....Probably because there are absolutely zero resources there (again don't be offended, you know it's true). Then he tells us when the Jews were expelled from Spain they fled to Morocco, and when Hitler wanted all Jews, the Moroccan government protected them: They too have a home in Fes. Sweet and pretty interesting, however, I felt like I was attending a church service for a church that was going bankrupt and asking for money by beating around the bush...Can't fool me...I'm an American! haha. Okay so we get into fes Medina, a small city with tons and tons of side streets, donkeys carrying everything you can think of, and an inescapable stench. We proceed through the streets with a Moroccan guide at the front and back of our group and ISA directors everywhere so we don't get lost. The first stop was a carpet dealer which was cool. The building that the store was in used to be the home of a man with many wives, each having their own room upstairs...yada yada. Sidenote: I have a pretty foul sense of humor and am very difficult to offend, but the Moroccan humor is all based around sex - normally funny, but NOT when you know it could be you as a heram! I was thoroughly disgusted by the jokes of what the rugs could be used for etc. and even more disgusted when they tried to sell me the "fact" that rugs were worth even more once they were used! We left the rug place and continued through the creepy streets of Morocco where I abandoned all relationship with friends and decided it was "every man for himself." I stayed right on the guides ass! I've never wished so badly for a huge smock dress to go over my pants and head gear to hide my blonde hair. Those of you who know me know that I'm not one to take comments from men on the street, I'll tell you where to go and what to do with yourself when you get there, however, in Morocco I put my sunglasses on, head down and made eye contact with NO BODY! I know when and where to be a badass...At one point I even grabbed one of the guys from my program and told him "I'm so sorry, I don't even know you, but I do not want to be traded for a camel." He laughed and said not to worry he'd been looking after me!!!! (Did I mention he was totally cute? More details to come!) Okay, then we make it to this leather good store. I already feel like I'm in my element as I see a bright yellow purse. I regain focus and follow my guide up a shitload of tiny strairs. On my way a man hands me a stem of some leaves...Don't really think I need them but whatever, when in Rome, do as the Romans do. THANK GOD I DID! we got to the rooftop to look over at these tiny pools where men are stretching, dying, scrubbing, conditioning (and anything else you can think of) camel and goat leather. The smell was indescribable. I completely missed whatever the guide said as I shoved mint leaves further up my nose and tried to contain my dry heaving/vomit. That made for some funny pictures and a light headed shopping excursion in the floors below, where I bought nothing. (probably subconciously punishing the leather men for making me smell that). After that tortue the group continued to a pharmacy. To my suprise it was the coolest place I'd been! Two men who were 5th generation pharmacists showed us a huge array of Moroccan medecines, spices, perfumes, all natural. Made a few fun purchases which I can't explain in further detail as they are presents, and then FINALLY got lunch. Lunch was Moroccan, but the coca-cola was SOOOO AMERICAN! I feel like no matter how horrible/un-edible the food it, coke is always there to save me. Later that night we went to a belly dancing show that was cultural. The women were far from attractive except for one who looked like she could have been part of the Chinese Olympic Gymnastics team she was so young. Next day we had an early start to a 12 hour trip to the desert. 10 hours in we get off of the bus in to old 4 x 4 jeeps. It is now dark, raining and lightening! The drivers take off in the dark, off roading! Elise and I held hands, the 6 of us in the jeep laughed, nearly cried at parts, and all lost our breath when the driver turned the headlights off just for fun. The hour long off roading was an experience that words will do no justice. We then got to camp where we had some food and got settled in our tents made of camel fur blankets. The rain picked up, as should be expected on a Molly trip, and soaked through the tents one drop at a time. The smell made us all light headed as we slept, so we wore sunglasses, layers of clothes, and what we referred to as a "punjab" more commanly referred to a a pashnima (scarf). We made it through the night, ate breakfast that consisted of assorted breads as usual, and got ready for our camel rides! Elise and I were paired on the first camel whom we immediately named Action. It is amazing how the sit, their back legs bend in one too many places, and when they stand they are incredibly tall! Kathleen got stuck with some guy, which she immediately turned into a negative situation and complained about. Anyhow, after a laughter filled ride we all ended at this GIGANTIC sand hill. There were local kids running up and sliding down. Now, because you can't see that hill, you'll never fully understand its enormity. It took about 10 minutes to climb up, and as I reached the top I looked down to see Elise being pulled up the hill by a little boy! On that note, throughout our entire stay in the desert natives from the area followed, watched, talked and helped us. The kids were the most precious little things I've ever seen. One little boy named Yusef stayed with Elise and I the entire camel ride and kept asking us if we were okay. Returning to the hill, once we got up there we could see sand dune as far as our eyes could see. It was amazing! And to get down I jumped straight out as far as I could, knowing that eventually I'd hit sand. It was so much fun! After that we proceeded into a little Bedowin town full of poverty and stench and precious children. We got a tour of a Bedowin carpet store where they explained that the carpets were made by women as messages to men seeking their hand in marriage. The women would stitch into the carpet things they felt and thought. For example, if a woman stitched in a cross with open space in it with an x on the inside she was saying she was okay with living inside the home with each of the other 3 wives, each prong on the cross being a room for each woman. We also learned that children are "insurance" in Moroccan culture as the more kids you have, the better chance you have of being taken care of when you're old. We were also shown the differences between a young girls carpet work and a grandmothers. When a grandmother reaches the point where she can no longer make carpets she makes on final carpet that is the most extravagent of them all and gives it as a gift to whomever will take care of her. All in all, Morocco was such an amazing, eye opening experience. I changed career plans at least 3 times on the bus ride to the desert as all I could think was, "It is only by pure dumb luck that I was born as me and not as one of these Moroccan kids." In addition, EVERY hotel we've stayed in, in Spain and Morocco, have a slot to insert your room key, and only when the key in the slot will your lights work. Everyone has water saving shower heads, and in both Morocco and the apartment complex that I live, you have to turn on a light in the hallway that stays on for about 3 minutes. Oh yeah! We had lunch, literally, in a tent in the middle of nowhere on our way out to the desert, and THEY HAD SOLAR PANELS! What the hell America? We need to get on that. I'm thinking a little less about law, a little more about the environment and other people...We'll see. All I know now is being on the African continent was a phenominal experience, but I am glad it's done. I always seem to have a hard time when I lose my ignorance about things - I'm always so disgusted, and Morocco was one of those moments: I am so disgusted at how lucky we all are and how much it is taken for granted. It's good to see though because now I'll never complain....I mean really, never complain. One more continent down on my quest to hit every continent (less Antarctica) before I graduate!
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