Marrakech, Morocco

**Note: Post date is August 9, 2009**


We arrived in Casablanca, Morocco this morning, my second destination in Africa, but didn’t get to see much of Casablanca at all actually, for Erika, Kate, Nicole, Becca, Morgan and myself were already headed to the city of Marrakech. It was the beginning of our four day trip to the Sahara desert and back.

Morocco is extremely different than Egypt. I’m not sure why I expected them to be similar but they are quite separate considering their economies, pollution levels and degree of development. Unlike the urban areas of Egypt, Morocco’s areas are clean, traffic laws are existent as well as followed and the area is habitable and not overpopulated. Even though Casablanca alone has a population of six million it certainly didn‘t feel like it.  It didn’t seem to be of the desperate and polluted nature of Egypt. It was calm, bright and enjoyable. However, as we ventured into the desert sights of poverty and underdevelopment were more apparent. Donkeys are a large source of transportation, irrigation is limited but extremely vital to the people of Morocco and so as you drive along the desert terrain you can see select civilians in the distance enduring hard obstacles of labor with the high and dry temperature of the blazing sun beating down on them. They might not be large contributors of global warming but they are certainly victims of their climate and economic status.

I awoke with Bo and Kevin for some breakfast before we went our separate ways in Morocco. Packed and ready to go, we waited for our passports before we could disembark the ship. “I’m not riding in that,” I thought to myself as I laid eyes on the small minibus that we would be driving in for an accumulative 24 hours or more. Fifteen of us had to crowd inside this vehicle with limited air-conditioning, no leg room and it was smaller than our cabins. I wish I could say I was exaggerating but this description is already too generous. I say limited air-conditioning meaning at times it would actually blow hot air into the already stifling carpeted van. And no leg room means having to turn your legs so that your body could in fact sit in the seat.  Many complained but I simply justified this discomfort with accepting air-conditioning as a luxury not a necessity and understanding that many of the people here don’t have it. I won’t deny that it was hot, but it was all a part of the experience.

After a three hour ride we arrived in Marrakech and immediately sat down for some Moroccan Cuisine. Lunch was interesting, but good, as we were served a mixed salad of carrots, salsa, beats, potatoes and eggplant with bread. Followed by some delicious chicken. For dessert: sliced oranges with cinnamon and nuts on top. I never thought of such a concoction but it was tasty. Erika went back for 5ths and 6ths noting it as a two thumbs up. The place was very atmospheric as we flashed our cameras. I certainly felt like I was in Morocco. After lunch we wandered around the plaza in which the restaurant was located. At this square there wasn’t only a Bazaar but also freshly squeezed orange juice (in the most literal sense), Henna artists, snake charmers, and monkeys. It smelled a little too. We were getting the tourist taste of Africa but nonetheless those snakes were real! I’m not afraid, but when the charmers come to put the select scaled creature on your neck, my instinct is to run!

We didn’t have much time in this happening plaza but we have intentions in returning. We were only 6 hours into our day and already dripping with sweat and exhaustion. Thank goodness our next stop was the hotel. The quality of our accommodations aren’t as luxurious compared to our time in Egypt but they will suffice. We had a few hours to freshen up and relax before we headed back out for the evening.

It is called Chez Ali and as we drove up to the palace-looking structure we could once again feel the Moroccan culture full force. Again it was of a touristy nature, but still more culture than I have knowledge of. As we strolled around this spacious area, surrounding a giant field of dirt, we were greeted with a line of various dancers, singers and musicians, both boastful and vibrant. It was thrilling just taking it all in. And as we made our way around we finally sat inside a large tent and enjoyed another meal. This time a soup of an unfamiliar and unpleasant texture, luckily followed by a rich beef stew with potatoes and vegetables. For dessert: fruit (we are starting to notice a trend), peaches, plums and delicious oranges. “This is the best orange I’ve ever had in my life,” Erika says to validate. Food, thus far, is a 100% upgrade from my experiences in Egypt.

The tables here are low to the ground with small seats and couches to match. It again layers on yet another experience of their culture. And as we sat around the low table talking, laughing and eating we were again greeted by those same cultural performers but this time one by one. We clapped along and shared this exchange of acknowledgment of each other. We were visiting their country and in return they were sharing their culture. Unbeknownst to a lot of people, traveling is an experience, not an activity, and it demands a dialogue with the land and its locals. It isn’t just sight seeing and sleeping in a five-star hotel, it is conversing with the culture and in turn letting it effect you, whether it be negatively or positively. And that’s why I appreciate the word experience. It is such an objective word that captures the sense of its definition.(if that makes sense)

After dinner we all gathered, including an addition of Kevin,  around the large dirt field to await the commencement of the Arabian horse show. Erika tells me that these shows are similar to the dinner theater performances they have in Orlando, Florida. However, we are in Morocco and I’ve never been to one in Florida so it was exciting to watch the rider do flip tricks as they rid the Arabian horses.  A belly dancer on a large platform put on quite a spectacular with her white sparkling attire and flexible moves. A lot more entertaining than the Egyptian belly dancer we had on the Nile. The show was full of entertainment including a magic carpet, a young boy on donkey back, explosive guns, and my favorite: fireworks. The donkey was adorable as he reminded me of Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh. He sat in the middle of the field with his droopy ears and big black eyes. The young boy was in training as he worked with this miniature horse. The magic carpet had Aladdin and Jasmine figures on it as it rode across the night sky. And I became a little emotional as that same sky was lit with some pyro-techniques. Fireworks automatically induce sentiment for they remind me of home and a place of happiness. I was happy.

At the show’s conclusion and by the time we arrived back to hotel it was certainly late. However, with an eight hour drive ahead of us we decided that sleeping would be redundant and a waste of some valuable time experiencing Moroccan life. So with the help of some fellow SASers we took a taxi to a fancy lounge for an evening of drinks and hooka. But I was not expecting the decorum of this place to be so chic and classy. The staircases were lined with candles, there was an outside area to lounge and smoke hooka and it predominantly gave off  the feeling of being in a Los Angeles home. (Like the ones you see in the movies) I didn’t smoke nor drink but I danced and had a ball with Kate, Mercedes, Nicole and Tom. As were sitting in the outside area we came to talking with these people from France who were visiting friends and family in Morocco. Using my select French skills I sparked up a conversation and came to find out that they visit at least once a year. Morocco, being a former French Colony, has many French inhabitants. Many foreigners get giddy when they hear that I’m from New York and they start expressing their admiration for the grand land of the States as I did the same with France. We talked for a while about travel, singing and appearances. They, on their own accord, even said Kate looked like Cameron Diaz. It was a funny moment for sure. The place closed at 2:00 am, so we finished our hooka, exchanged names for Facebook and headed back to the hotel.

I was all ready to go to bed, when I reached in my pocket to take out my passport. We are required to carry our passports at all time while traveling outside of Casablanca. However, when I went to place it on the end table, it wasn’t there. I frantically checked all the other pockets and all outcomes were negative. I almost passed out at that very moment. I had no idea where it could have gone. Until I checked the table that I left it on earlier. I actually didn’t end up bringing it with me to the lounge. It was safe and sound in my hotel room the entire time. I have my passport. I’m going to sleep like a baby.

Today’s Expense’s

…………………........Durham…………Dollars

Ritz Crackers……22.00.…………..2.75
Total Water……..24.00.…………..3.00
Picture…………....20.00.…………..2.50

Total…………….....66.00.…………..8.25



Explore. Dream. Discover.

~Michael-Anthony

P.S. I ate A LOT of bread.