Morocco/Marruecos!

This past weekend we went on a guided tour of Morocco (AKA Marruecos to the Spaniards). I went with Carrie - my roommate in Granada - and some friends we met from Illinois. Morocco was WAY different than I pictured. Before we left, I thought we'd be landing in the middle of the Sahara, complete with rolling sand dunes and camels. This was not to be. Morocco is actually greener than southern Spain! I didn't see any sand dunes... instead there were large, stony mountains covered in short, stunty green trees and bushes. I didn't see any camels... but I did ride a dromedary - different than a camel because it has one hump and not two.

I'm currently listening to Toto's "Africa" on repeat while I write this: we were singing this song all weekend as we traversed the medinas of Techaun, Tanger, and Chef-Chaoun. It was a really cool trip and I'll try to recount what I remember here for posterity's sake since I forgot to bring my journal on the trip and I think I'll lose steam if I have to write all of this for a second time by-hand.

Day 1 - Friday, October 16: We left Granada by bus at 1:00 pm - Spain time. We had a few difficulties with an ATM machine prior to leaving - something strange about it not wanting to give Carrie any money in exchange for her debit card... so we had to run to the bus with our backpacks and purses bouncing along behind us. We made it just in time and settled in for a roughly three hour ride to the ferry pier in Algeciras. We stopped at Malaga to pick up some other travelers and arrived at the ferry pier 48-students strong.

The ferry ride to Morocco is only about an hour long. The ferries are different from the ones in Seattle: no white and green sides or round windows for the Spanish ferries. These boats are big. I'm not sure if you can take cars on: I'm assuming you can, but the car area is completely hidden from foot-traffic. The upper area looks a bit like a cruise ship, with a large area at the back of the ship where you can sit in nice, plush chairs and watch the sea through large, floor-to-ceiling windows.

We went outside on the deck and took some tourist pics and then settled in to watch the scene from the comfort of our seats. The sea in this area is so full of ships it looks like a child's bathtub during a mock-naval battle; tankers, pleasure craft, other ferries are all crammed into this narrow stretch of sea that is the gateway to the Mediterranean (or to the Atlantic depending on how you look at it). We passed by the Rock of Gibraltar on our way out of port. I don't know much about Gibraltar, so I'm going to have to do some research on it now that I have internet access again.

The ferry lands in Ceuta, which is actually Spanish territory. The city looks Spanish - they had a SuperSol (Spanish grocery store) and a Burger King - and the architecture is very Spanish as well. I opened my mouth to say that I felt like we hadn't left Spain when we hit the border.

The border was very, very busy. There were people and cars and trash everywhere and very little sense of order, although everyone seemed to know where they were going and when it was their turn. Groups of hooded and clothing-encapsulated women gathered in clusters at the border next to men in much more modern, Western clothing. A washing machine sat in the middle of the parking lot next to a group of vans that looked like they'd come straight out of a Hollywood movie about the desert/the Middle East etc. Many men chose to turn their cars off, put them into neutral, and push them through the border to save on gas.

We had to wait for a while at the border - it does take time to check 50 peoples' passports. We also got to sit through a swine flu check. A doctor boarded the bus and pointed some kind of temperature-taking gun at our foreheads. The bus was silent while he did this: you could tell everyone was super nervous because none of us wanted to be taken off the bus and put in quarantine somewhere at the border. Luckily, no one had a fever, so we were allowed to pass through and head towards our hotel.

We also picked up our guide at the border. His name was Abdul or "Michael Douglas" as he encouraged us to call him. Apparently, past groups have said he looks a little like Michael Douglas: I saw the resemblance only after he'd pointed it out to me. He was quite the character. He spoke Swahili, Arabic, English, French, and Spanish fluently. Quite impressive.

We reached the hotel where they had dinner waiting for us. It was some kind of vegetable soup which smelled like red cabbage but was yellow as well as a plate of fried fish, potatoes, and veggies. Then it was off to bed!

Day 2 - Saturday, October 17: We woke up early and had breakfast at the hotel. I've eaten more carbs on this trip than I care to admit, but Morocco really takes the cake in the carb-loading department (no pun intended). Breakfast was either some kind of Moroccon flat-bread with honey and butter (yum), cornbread-like round cakes with butter and honey (yum), croissants, coffee cake of some kind, or these large, round wheat rolls. It was all very good, but by day 3 we were all making jokes about giving birth to Peter "Pans" (pan means 'bread' in Spanish) because we'd all consumed so much bread.

We went to Tetuan in the morning. Tetuan is a city that used to be controlled by both the French and the Spanish. We drove around the city a bit and then got out of the bus for a walk through the Medina. The Medina is the old city center than contains the market and houses for a large number of people. The streets are incredibly narrow and winding (no cars here) and the buildings lean over the walkways or are built over the walkways so you feel like you're walking through a maze. It's a little claustrophobic at times.

We walked through the food portion of the market: incredibly strong smells, lots of flies, lots of food. I was tempted to become a vegetarian after experiencing this part of the medina. Chickens are butchered in front of you and there are tons of whole fish lying in the streets, staring at you with lifeless eyes. There were also bags and bags of beans, lentils, grains, and nuts and piles of fresh fruit and vegetables. Freshly baked bread was stacked five, six, and seven loaves high. This all would have been incredibly appetizing and wonderful had it not been for the man plucking a chicken in the background, the overwhelming smell of rotting fish, and the flies covering everything.

We also saw men making clothing, selling spools of silk, and visited a rug bazaar where we saw piles and piles of handmade rungs and blankets for sale.

We finished off the visit with an authentic Moroccon lunch at a hidden restaurant in the center of the Medina. We had a heaping plate of couscous, chicken (I couldn't bring myself to eat any of the actual chicken after seeing the birdies in the market), carrots, potatoes, onions, and some other kind of root vegetable. There was also sweet mint tea, soup, and cookies for dessert. Yum! Musicians came in during lunch and played traditional Moroccon music for us. Once we'd finished a man came in and danced around while balancing a tray covered in lighted candles on his head. It was pretty cool.

After lunch, we piled back on the bus and drove to Tangier. Tangier is located on the coast and is a bigger, more touristy city. We drove up to a point that had a lighthouse and beautiful views of the ocean where the Atlantic meets the Mediterranean. You could see the waves and the currents where the two bodies of water meet. It was very beautiful. We also walked around the medina in Tangier, but it wasn't nearly as interesting as the one in Tetuan.

Dinner at the hotel was kebobs, french fries (not really Moroccon), carrots (yum) and a bowl of fruit.

Day 3 - Sunday, October 18: We got up early and left the hotel at 7:00 am to head to Chef-Chaouen - a two hour drive from our hotel. The route to Chef-Chaouen took us through the mountains and was absolutely beautiful. We wound through the peaks as the sun rose over the mountains and tried hard to stay awake and take in all of the scenery.

Chef-Chaouen itself is perched on the hillside of one of these gigantic mountains. It is an absolutely beautiful little town in an absolutely beautiful location and is by far the prettiest place I've visited so far on this trip. The streets of the medina here are also small and winding, but afford breathtaking views of the mountains and the valley below. The buildings are all painted white or some shade of blue - no other colors are allowed - and they are repainted 5 or 6 times a year. The colors are incredible! Each door has a different shape, color, and personality here. I had to stop myself from taking pictures of all of them.

We had lunch at a hotel with incredible views of the mountains surrounding the town. Lunch was delicious once again. It was some kind of pot-roast cooked with potatoes, leeks, carrots, and onions plus lots of bread. YUM!

After lunch, it was back on the bus, back to Ceuta, back on the ferry, back to Spain. We didn't get home until after midnight last night, but it was well worth it.

Reflections:

• It was weird to see all of the women completely covered. There were different degrees of coverage: most women wore a floor-length, longsleeved garment with pants underneath as well as a head scarf, while some women were in just pants and long-sleeved jackets (keep in mind it was in the upper 80s here). A few were wearing full burkas. We dressed fairly conservatively while there (scarves, tee-shirts and jackets, long skirts or pants), but I still felt uncomfortable around some of the men in the streets sometimes.
• Women don't go to bars or restaurants. Every cafe we drove past was full of only men. I stuck my head into one of the bars we walked by because I could hear a soccer game and all of the men turned and stared at me. It was a little uncomfortable.
• You need to be good at bartering to shop here.
• Women don't sell things in the streets except for vegetables and occasionally herbs. All the other stores are operated by men - even when the women have made the crafts.
  

Settling in

I suppose it’s time to write another blog entry… I can’t believe I’ve been here for almost three weeks already. Time has flown by and I am starting to establish a kind of schedule.

The average day:

9:00am – 10:00 am: Wake up, get ready, eat breakfast

10:30 am – 2:00 pm: Do things like wander the city, find internet at a café/a bar/school/API, go for a run, shop, explore, etc.

2:00 pm – 5:00 pm: Lunch + siesta = I eat and take a nap and read my book. I’ve finished almost a book a week here.

5:00 pm – 9:00 pm: Repeat 10:30 am – 2:00 pm timeslot. Occasionally sit by river and drink an entire jar of Sangria or buy pastries and eat them by the river.

9:00 pm: Eat dinner

10:00 – 1:00 am: Go to a smoky bar and listen to live music, play trivia, talk with friends, drink red wine.

This schedule is sure to be interrupted soon because school started on Wednesday, meaning I’ll have to actually go to classes. The good news is that we don’t have class on Fridays and there is no school on Monday because it is a holiday (I believe the holiday is to celebrate Spain’s Armada; not sure).

I have four classes:
1) Islamic Culture in Spain
2) Business Spanish
3) Translation of English to Spanish
4) Writing and Speaking Spanish

They’re two hours each session and I have them twice a week. I’ve had all of them so far, and let me tell you, listening to someone speak in fairly rapid Spanish for 2 hours straight is hard! I placed in a higher level than I thought I would (and higher than I probably should have) so the lectures are pretty much how they are in the States: except for the fact that they’re in Spanish and not in English. EEK. I’m going to have to study a lot and work on my vocabulary a lot if I’m going to do well.

School is held in an old orphanage that was apparently built before ventilation systems existed. The rooms are incredibly stuffy and hot all of the time and by the end of the two-hour period, it’s difficult to concentrate because it’s so warm. You can open the windows, but there’s always someone constructing something, or revv-ing their motorcycle, or smoking a cigarette and chatting outside, making it difficult or next-to-impossible to hear the teacher. Even if you’re lucky enough to have it be quiet outside, it’s difficult to get a cross-breeze flowing because you can’t leave the doors open to the hallway because it’s incredibly loud out there as well.
The school is built in a square shape, with a courtyard and fountain in the middle and classrooms on two levels surrounding it. The courtyard is covered and always filled with students talking, laughing, and taking breaks from classes. It’s also super hot in the courtyard because the type of ceiling it has creates a green-house affect. There are old coil-heaters in the classrooms which I don’t think we’ll ever need because it’s always so warm!

But enough about school. We went to San Jose last weekend. San Jose/Cabo de Gato is a small town on the southern coast of Spain. It reminded me a lot of a Greek town, with small, winding streets, white-washed houses and rocky cliffs that drop off into beautiful, azul waters. The beaches were sandy and fairly deserted and the water is as warm as it is in the Caribbean. Que bueno. We went to two different beaches there. One was a 30 minute walk from town and it was my favorite because it was so deserted. It reminded me of Meagan’s Bay in St. Thomas, only in Mediterranean rather than Caribbean style and it lacked the teeming masses of sweaty tourists. The only people on the beach besides us thirty-or-so Americans were a few nudist families and a herd of goats. It was pretty sweet. There was very little current so you could swim very far out in the water and just float. This was especially nice because the weather was very warm (I’m guessing low 90s).

The next day we went to the second beach which was in the town of San Jose. It was also pretty but not nearly as deserted. Still a few topless women, though. We lazed around, read books, and floated around in the water when we got too hot. It was like taking a vacation from a vacation.
I do see my time here as a bit of a vacation. I don’t really have anything to do here; no one who expects me to be anywhere at a certain time (except for my house-mom who expects me to be around for meals unless I tell her otherwise); no one who expects me to do anything for them. It’s really kind of a strange to feel completely superfluous. I keep saying I want to feel like I’m living here, but I don’t quite feel that way yet because I feel so detached from my surroundings. I don’t know the Spaniards at all. I join in at meals with Rosa and her family members who come over once or twice a week to eat with us; I go to bars where only Spaniards hang out; I try to blend in on the streets; but I feel like I am oil dropped into the water that is Spain. Even if you shake everything up to try to mix me in with the Spanish, I always end up separated from everyone.

I need to make some Spanish friends and I think I’ll feel more comfortable here. Last night, Carrie and I wandered and found this bar that had cool, live Jazz music. It was packed wall-to-wall with Spaniards, smoking, drinking, and talking. It was a really neat atmosphere (minus the smoke) and we had a good time listening to the musicians rock-out. It’s difficult to find cool places to go here – there are tons and tons of tapas bars and hole-in-the-wall restaurants – but we’ve got no one to show us which are good and cheap and authentic. It’s also very, very intimidating to be surrounding by people speaking a language you don’t grasp very well, especially when those people are your own age and of the opposite sex. I have gotten good at ordering “vino tinto de la casa,” although I can’t tell you what the actual wine is called, where it’s from, or what type it is other than it’s a red wine.

We get cat-called very, very frequently here as well, which would be nice if I knew for sure what the men were saying and if I knew for sure when they were talking to me. My Spanish vocabulary does not include cat-calls.

In other news, Carrie and I booked plane tickets to Milan, Italy for a five-day weekend in December. We’re going to try and explore Milan a bit and then take a train down to Rome for a few days before heading back to Milan and flying back to Granada. Should be fun. We’re going to try to do one trip per month, so now we just need to find somewhere cheap to go in October and November.

Miss you all and hope things are going well at home!

Spain!

Hola chicos! I am officially in Spain (and have been for about a week now). Our trip started out in Madrid, passed through El Escorial and Toledo and ended with us in Granada. It’s been a whirlwind of a week and I feel like I’ve been here for years already… and yet I also feel like a definite outsider. The language barrier is definitely an issue – believe it or not, I’m not fluent yet J - and there are tons of things that are different from the US. A brief summary of the differences:

Saving energy/using utilities: Utilities are very, very expensive here. It’s what I’ve been told and from what I’ve seen so far, I believe it to be true. The lights in the house are always off unless you’re in the room, and even then, we only turn on the smallest light possible. Showers are as short as possible to save hot water. General lights (in the hallways of apartments and in hotel hallways and in bathrooms at bars) are on very short, motion-sensing timers. If you don’t move enough in one of these locations, the lights will shut off on you!

No internet and not super wired: Almost none of the people here have internet in their homes. It’s been weird – and a bit frustrating - for me not to have constant access to the internet. It’s nice also, though, because it prevents you from having to bring your work home with you at night or over the weekend! (Microsoft would not survive here). There are also very few outlets in our house.

The hours: Siesta is from 2:00 pm – 5:00 pm and during these times, almost everything is closed down. Someone told me that the most crime happens during siesta because the only people out in the streets are tourists. Carrie (my roommate) and I went out the first day during siesta, but we now use the time to relax, write blog entries, nap, and study Spanish. Part of me screams that siesta is a waste of time, but I’m also coming to really appreciate it; especially since the majority of Spanish life seems to occur during the evening and at night. The streets are packed with people at night: dinner or tapas are usually eaten between 9:00 pm and midnight and after that, people go out to the bars or discotecas. The workday starts around 8:00 am and people break for breakfast and coffee at 10:00 am. Then it’s home for siesta at 2:00 pm. Life here seems to be more relaxed than in the US.

Travel: People walk EVERYWHERE here. Cars are present, but it’s a nightmare to try and drive anywhere and even worse to try and park. The streets are narrow, winding, and bumpy, so people walk to their destinations. There appears to be a comprehensive bus system, but I’ve yet to take one because walking is such fun. There is always so much to look at because the stores are packed very closely together. I swear I walk at least 5 miles a day. Walking takes longer and is a “waste of time” but people don’t seem to care: I really like this about Granada.

Community: There is definitely more of a community feel here than in the States. Everyone is out in the streets with their families and their friends, talking, laughing and enjoying themselves. We were lucky enough to be in town for the celebration of Granada’s patron saint day. As a celebration, they had a street market with vendors selling Tortas de la Virgen (large, flat pastries), toys for children, pastries, and fruit. There was also a procession where the women of the town “accompanied” the virgin. They walked through the streets barefoot and carrying lighted candles. The route took them to two different cathedrals and probably covered a good ½ mile to a mile of ground. I swear that most of the city was in the streets, buying things in the market, strolling with their families and friends, or participating in/observing the procession. It feels like such a community at all times: hardly anyone is on their cell phones or listening to headphones: they’re participating in the city and enjoying life and each other instead.

Style: The Spaniards are very, very stylish. I – and almost all of the other Americans here – stick out like sore thumbs because we dress for comfort rather than style. This is not the way it is done in Spain. Women wear heels or cute but uncomfortable-looking flats everywhere which makes little sense to me because the streets are cobblestoned, cracked, and uneven in many places. Plus, you have to walk everywhere. Flare is also very important. Every Spanish outfit has some kind of flare associated with it, be it a scarf, a large piece of jewelry, a headband, a loud shirt with a belt; there’s always something. I think I’ve seen one person in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. People dress up even more during the nighttime, but it’s generally an effortless style/look that the Spaniards adopt.

This is just my initial list of observations. More to come. Carrie and I have spent most of our time just wandering the streets and observing things. We try to blend in with the Spaniards, but there’s no hope for us yet. Besides the general wanderings, we’ve also been on a few excursions.

Here’s a brief summary of things we’ve done so far (with pictures!):

La Alhambra: It’s a walled-city fortress/palace up on the hill overlooking Granada. The grounds are absolutely beautiful! There are gardens everywhere and no part of the buildings – except for the Christian portions – were built without thought of the sun, the heat, and the beauty of the surroundings. The walls are decorated with intricate designs – anytime you see an octagon, it represents God – and the arches are all specially proportioned to alternatively block or let in sunlight depending on the time of day and the time of year. The walls are all different thicknesses as well depending on which direction they’re facing to provide more or less insulation against the heat of the day.

Fountains abound here, but they are gentle, burbling fountains that are designed to preserve the peace of the gardens. All of the decorations and tiling are placed at different heights in the different rooms depending on how they are meant to be observed and based on the function the room served. If the majority of business in a room was conducted sitting down, the tiles only reach a certain height on the wall because people are usually leaning against it while sitting. The wall designs were also arranged so that they are best seen from a seated position.

The Alhambra is hands down the most beautiful thing and impressive thing I’ve seen on this trip. I took a trillion pictures – none of which do the place justice – and you’ll have to catch me when I get back if you’d like to see them all.

Generalife: Pronounced “hen-air-all-leaf-eh”, not “general-life,” are the gardens next to the Alhambra. There is a palace here as well, but it’s not nearly as grand as the Alhambra’s palace. The gardens here are much more manicured, meaning that the architect of them was probably a European (our guide said Italian). The fountains here are loud and boisterous and the flowers make the air smell delicious. Apparently, someone was paid big bucks back in the day to plant the flowers in such away as to create the beautiful aromas.

There are beautiful views of the Alhambra from Generalife and of Granada itself.

Museo del Prado (Madrid): Lots of paintings and a few sculptures. We saw a lot of work by El Greco – some of which was very dark – and a really cool painting called Las Meminas. If you stood far enough away from Las Meminas, the painting gave an illusion that you were staring into another room and watching the scene rather than just looking at a painting.

Palacio Real (Madrid): The monarchs don’t actually live here anymore, but the majority of state business is still conducted within its walls. We saw an armory – lots of knight’s armor, swords, and shields – as well as the old pharmacy which contained lots of painted jars on shelves. The palace tour was the best part; everything in the palace is very heavily adorned with gold or other precious metals. In one room, the walls were embroidered in intricate designs rather than painted. Apparently it took over 70 years to finish the walls of this room.

Reina Sophia Museum of Art (Madrid): We saw some works of art by Dalí and Picasso including Guernika. Guernika was incredible – it’s huge! – and is so much cooler in real life than in print form. My favorite painting here was actually painted by someone I didn’t know and was called Chain Gang. It depicted a group of people trudging down the street in the rain. The artist did a wonderful job of capturing how light reflects off of water on the ground and how rain at night can make everything look really fuzzy. It was an understated painting, but very cool.

El Escorial: We went and saw an old monastery in El Escorial. The monastery is still functioning and is also a boarding school for elementary and junior high-aged kids (1000 Euro a month to send your children here). The best part of the monastery was the cathedral which was absolutely gigantic!

Toledo: An old, walled city with narrow, winding streets. Neat to see, but I don’t need to go back.

Bullfight (Granada): I only stayed to watch three bulls be killed because I didn't care to see anymore. It was a very interesting experience. There is a lot of ceremony involved with the bull fight. There are multiple "helper" matadors that help distract the bull (who is big and mean) and then un maestro matador whose job it is to kill the bull. They bring out horses (that occasionally get bashed by the bull - don't worry, they're wearing armor, though our senora says that occasionally they get goared) for no reason that I can tell and then everyone goes away except the maestro and the bull. The maestro is given six "banderillas" which are little swords with what look like towels wrapped around them. His job is to stab the bull in the back with them, two-at-a-time, when it charges him. After he's stuck the banderillas in the bull's back, he gets his cape back and tries to see how many tricks he can perform while having the bull charge at him.

After he's messed with the bull awhile and gained the crowd's admiration, he'll take a large sword and stab the bull down the spine when it charges at him. If it's done well, the sword will go right through the bull's lungs and heart and spinal cord and kill it almost instantly. If he does it wrong, the bull suffers more and all the other matadors come out and tease it more until it falls over and then they stab it in the head with a dagger. At the end, the crowd stands and cheers and waves a white handkerchief if they liked the matador.

I appreciate the tradition of this, but it is very cruel as well and I don't care to ever see it again. Apparently, the bull's meat is eaten, I just wish they didn't have to torture it so much before they kill it.

Hope all is going well for everyone at home: feel free to write me an email and let me know how things are going. It’s nice to hear from you!

Bienvenidos y hasta luego!

Hi all and welcome to my blog! I'm off to Granada, Spain on Sunday where I'll be spending the next three months or so learning to speak Spanish and exploring Spain and Europe. Right now, I'm frantically packing and preparing - hopefully I'm not forgetting anything too big - and trying to say "goodbye" to everyone I won't be seeing until Christmas.

I'll be staying with a host-family in Granada: they have a flat on the river Gentil and I'm looking forward to a few river-walks during my stay :-). It'll be a few days before I actually reach Granada and settle-in: the program will take us to Madrid, El Escorial, and Toledo before introducing us to our host-families.

Needless to say I'm both super excited - and super nervous - to leave. Not having easy cell phone access or face-to-face contact with all my friends and family for three months is going to be difficult, but I know I'm going to have an awesome time! I'll try to keep the blog updated as best I can while I'm away. In the meantime, feel free to leave me a message and I'll try to get back to you asap!

Hasta luego!