Wednesday, February 7, 2007

Marrakesh!

My Riad's courtyard

Mohammed trying to sell me some carpet and showing me Moroccan hospitality.

Musical performance in the plaza!

After yet another of Sadek's wonderful, nutritious and delicious morning juice/smoothie concoctions and a relaxing morning in the "palais nomade" (their nickname for their home), I was off on my travels...alone. I was surprised by how thrown I was by Christine not being able to join me. It was strange because really it was only about 48 hours that our plans were in place, and yet I had gotten really excited about the idea of having a traveling partner, and especially an old friend to reconnect with along the way!

But I packed up my small backpack (thanks Ambesa!) and set of for an adventure, a day later than I planned. The train left about an hour late and I went in the first class car and got settled. There were two other Americans in the compartment. It turned out that one lived in Senegal and one in Tacoma Park, Maryland and both worked for the same NGO doing micro finance work in Africa. They were on their way to Marrakech to run in the marathon on Sunday. Oh, there is a marathon on Sunday! Good to know. They kept to themselves for awhile but I broke into their conversation at one point and once they heard my story about why I was in Morocco we started talking more. In fact, the one woman had less than a week before found out she was pregnant again after a couple miscarriages, so she wouldn't actually be doing the marathon after all. It was fun to talk about Lila's birth with them and about what her options were in Senegal.

I arrived to Marrakech and sure enough the madness began with "guides" approaching, taxi offers, etc. The folks at the Riad I had booked at were picking me up since they said I'd never find it on my own (and oh how true that proved to be later in the night!). I got dropped off at the edge of the medina (old city) and was met by a young guy with a wheeled cart and we turned off the main path and began a series of twists and turns down little alleys and I realized I was going to be spending a lot of time kinda lost and disoriented here. When we got to the riad, it had a little door you had to crouch to climb through. It was quite lovely, with a beautiful courtyard and three floors of rooms, terraces, lounges all in traditional style. Unfortunately, there was no one there who spoke English and the owner wasn't there and now (in retrospect) I realize that I didn't get the most out of my riad experiences in Marrakeck due to communication difficulties and a lack of the hospitality I had heard about and experienced later in my trip. But it was lovely and everyone was very nice, I just wish I spoke more French or Arabic! I had the first of what would be about 5 pots of Moroccan whiskey (i.e. mint tea) and a few small bowls of nuts, apricots, raisins, etc. And then was shown to my room. It was beautiful and the bed was so comfortable with the most amazing thick wool blanket. It was basically underground with no window, but big majestic doors opening into the main courtyard (which meant it was a bit noisy in the morning, but nice and dark for sleeping!). So much attention to detail was given in every place i stayed--by far, more interesting than any fancy hotel that costs the same or much more. And there was a great, hot, big shower!

After resting for a bit I was anxious to get out and see the medina and the infamousDjemâa el Fna square before it got dark. Getting to Marrakech at 3pm on a Friday wasn't the best idea as it didn't leave a lot of time to get oriented before the nighttime, but I figured I'd be okay. Another tip I'd give folks is to be sure you have a bunch of change and small bills before heading out. Once I was out in the world and realized I only had 100 and 200 Dh it was a bit hard to function in the streets and souks for small things and to pay the folks wanting a couple Dh for a photo, etc etc. I also realize it would have made a lot of sense for me to have mapped my way to the riad from the main street-they gave me a map but it wasn't very clear (as I found out later--don't worry, everything turns out just fine!)

So off I go, meandering through the medina, walking around smiling and practicing my ever-expanding Arabic vocabulary : ) I had brought a small keychain compass per the suggestion in Lonely Planet, but it didn't really help me much as it took me 2 days to figure out my orientation based on landmarks in the city. But I knew that I'd either find the edge of the medina and take a taxi or find the square or something would happen in the 2 1/2 hour I had til dusk. Walking through the souks (market) and the city was an assault on the sense...new sounds, smells, sights, sensations. The call to prayer ringing out through the alleys, the warnings to get the hell out of the way from the incredibly brave bicyclists and motorbikes, the clomping of the donkeys hooves pulling their loads through the labrinyth. Giant piles of dates, apricots, walnuts, almonds, lavender, tumeric, cumin, paprika, rose petals, henna appear around almost every turn, as do all kinds of animal parts and cuts of meat, and live chickens and piles of fish and shellfish and eels that I'll refrain from describing here-- sheep heads factor in big in this culture I'll just say.
Saw a few camel heads too.

I realize that I'm not really headed in the direction of the touristy souks but more in the everyday market. I've figured out a way to have my camera poised and ready within the sleeve of my sweater without it being visible and hanging out all the time. Over time I master the art of taking covert digital pictures as I walk, along with the plethora of photos I shoot out in the open. While I'm attracting a lot of attention, folks here are mostly leaving me alone or just greeting me with the standard "Salam malekum" or "Le bes" (how are you?). Then I turn a corner and it all changes, about 10 guys come up to me trying to convince me to go see the sights with them-- they don't want to be paid or anything--just to show me around. Sure...I manage to turn them all away but a few minutes later another guy comes up and we start talking in Spanish. That is the most frequent approach for me here-- hola que tal? or guapa or something like that. If folks aren't sure if I'm Moroccan they mostly at least think I'm Spanish. I give in and figure at least this guy can hopefully get me to a major landmark.

After winding through the medina for about 20 minutes we end up at a leather tannery. The tanneries are a smelly place-- there is a pile of mint by the entrance to help you get through it. This is not the pretty colored vats you see in the photos in the guidebooks. This is the grimy, hard work, end of the day, want to get out of here kinda vibe. The process used in Morocco has not changed much in the past several centuries and it is not particularly safe from a health standpoint for the workers. I find myself following my guide through the tannery, walking on the cement between the vats and get the up close and personal view of what the workers are doing. We chat with some of the workers, climb up on a roof above with a good view of the city and then of course I'm taken into a souk for the hard sell. At this point I'm not looking to shop yet (that frenzy comes later and once the seal is broken it is over my friends--so much for using the money for doing the birth for getting a much-needed crown--carpets and leather goods and pottery are much more fun!) However, my host, Mohammed, is very gracious and shows me the goods in his store, lays out a bunch of carpets for me explaining their differences, serves me some yummy tea and beseeches me to enjoy my time in Morocco even if I don't buy. There is such an art to bargaining here--and it isn't one of my best skills I must say, especially when I'm on my own. But I end up buying a cool bag made of old carpet remnant, for what I'm sure is way too much, but is at least less than half than what we started with. I leave and we are all happy.

After a somewhat heated exchange with my "guide" about giving him money --not for him-- but for the folks in the tannery, and trying to get pointed in the right direction for the square, I'm on my own again. I must say, it was fun to be speaking Spanish and to be understood, given my proclivity thus far for responding in Spanish to Arabic and French.

In spite of my guide not getting me all the way to the square, I find it and breath a sigh of relief. And then the real craziness begins. It is, to use the word that is most often paired with the Djemâa el Fna, a spectacle to behold. And it is cold! Real cold. This is the high desert (similiar to Taos, NM) and a cold spell that will continue for most of my time there has just blown in. As I circle the square (can you do that?) to get my bearings and take it in, I can feel the heat being pulled out of my body through my shoes. I have a good system in place though with my layers and my valuables, and I have to say that for as often as I was approached or greeted by men or kids or elderly folks looking for money, I never felt threatened or like anyone was going to try to steal my stuff or anything. In general I found that Moroccans are incredibly friendly folks, very affirming of my lame attempted to communicate in anything other than English, very willing to help and etc.

I get my first of about 25 glasses of fresh squeezed orange juice from the OJ vendors-- they all try to cajole to their stand with enthusiatic gestures and sounds. I love the orange juice in Morocco-- it is so sweet and robust and cheap! A 10 or 12 oz glass is only about 3 Dh (or 25 cents) in the square (but grapefruits juice is 10 Dh in case you were wondering). The snake charmers are at work, there is live music everywhere, the water sellers with their crazy get ups are rolling about, there are monkeys dancing, henna decorating, wares being sold. Strangely, I don't see too many tourists or travelers, and those I do see don't seem to speak English or aren't very friendly. I am wishing Christine was here with me right now, but take a deep breath and keep going. About every 10 seconds a guy comes up to me "Bon soir" "Ca Va?" "Hola, que tal?" "hello" "espanola? italiana? americana?" "welcome" "bienvendia" "do you need a husband?" "first time in Morocco" "Le Bes?" becomes the chorus of my evening. I practice my "la shokron" (no thank you) and "safi" (that's enough) and occasionally "sird" (get away), salam-ing away, trying my best to not be cold but not too welcoming either. It is all so amusing and annoying at once-which makes it hard for me not to smile because I love to smile. But that of course, exacerbates the issue as my smile attracts more attention. So I strive to master the art of "smiling on the inside" as Aurelia has instructed me. That helps some, but over the course of my time traveling here, I realize that if I every need a self-esteem boost on a purely superficial physical attraction level this would be the place to come.

I wind through the food stalls in the square, because I'm getting a bit hungry and because I have someone to seek out there per Trish's recommendation, and because I'm hoping that I'll maybe meet some folks or be invited to join someone for dinner or invite someone to join me, etc. I am equipped with the knowledge that I am looking for stall 42 or 142 run by a large (by Moroccan standards) woman named either Fatihah or Rhadiya. This, as it turns out, it more than enough information to zero in on my target! Rhadiya is a badass. She rules the roost of her stall and has about 10 men running around waiting on folks, helping cook, etc. I order a bunch of Moroccan salads, eggplant, olives, bread, and a veggie tagine and take in the scene. The food is yummy, and way more than I can eat on my own. My waiter is very sweet, perhaps overly affectionate, but I'm trying to just take in the whole vibe and roll with it. No other traveler types sit down with me and after a bit I decide to move on my way. But first I do notice a Japanese man with a Spearhead patch on his jacket and think about trying to talk to him, but the other guy he is with seems a bit tripped out on something (I find out later that the other dude is a local who is a drug addict and often does interpreting work for Japanese tourists as he lived in Japan for some time. And I am glad I stayed away from them).

I continue around the square and the greetings and solicitations from a spectrum of men continue. After about 20 minutes I decide I'm going to either hang out with someone or head back to the riad. A young guy who was particularly persistent and seemed harmless enough won the prize of my company for the evening. His name is Khalid, he's 26, from the medina, a cook for one of the hotels and a nice guy. He speaks minimal English but is trying hard to communicate. It is freezing outside at this point so we go to a cafe with heaters for a pot of tea and chat the best we can about his life, my life, why I'm in Morocco, our families and etc. It's a Friday night and he asks me if I'd like to go see some live music with him in the new city (Villa Nouvelle) and I thought "why not?" and got him to agree to get me safely back to my riad afterwards and that I didn't want to be out too late. So we walked the 30 minutes or so to the new city and through much of the new city to "Club Montecristo". It was a sweet place, swank but not overdone and very different than anything I'd seen in the medina. The band that was playing currently was covering "My Way" and then segued into a Zeppelin song and several other amusing covers of American songs. I'm sipping on my gin and tonic and noticing that "wow, these Moroccan women sure do wear a lot of makeup and get really dressed up!". I share this observation with Khalid who kinda blushes and proceeds to explain to me that the Moroccan women in the club are...prostitutes. Lovely. I look around more and start seeing fishnet stockings, and stillettos and very racy outfits and it starts making sense. He assures me that it is fine for me to be there because I'm with him. And to be fair, there are several other foreign women travelers around too. The band changes over and starts playing Gnawa music with a really good beat and it is time to dance a bit and forget about the surroundings for awhile. Again, this place is really nice--not seedy at all-- this is just one part of the culture as a result of the very strict rules regarding male/female relations in this country. It feels great to dance to this live music and I feel lucky to be exposed to this part of Marrakech's social culture as it isn't something I would have come upon on my own. But after another hour I'm ready to go and after a brief visit to the second floor DJ scene (where I boogied down to "Last Night a DJ Saved my Life"), we caught a taxi back to the medina and my riad. Which was easier said than done...even though I had a map, it was hard for the taxi driver to find the right place to drop us off. We must have driven around for over 40 minutes! I was not panicking but was getting a little worried. After consultation with several other taxi drivers we finally found the right spot! Hooray! And now, the next challenge-- finding my way (with the help of Khalid) to the actual riad through the maze of the medina. We followed the first couple turns successfully, but then missed a turn, hit a dead-end, backtracked and tried again. We did this about 3 or 4 times and right when Khalid was offering for me to stay at his house in the room with his mom and sister, we tried another way and I spotted the construction work that was around the corner from my place and with a big sigh of relief, the small door to my riad appeared. I thanked him for sticking with me, and he asked me to call him tomorrow, to which I replied "Inshallah"--if God wills--(the Muslim/Moroccan version of my Italian grandmother's "If God spares me") and happily returned to my lovely room and the best bed in Morocco.

Sunday, January 28, 2007

door marrakesh


door marrakesh
Originally uploaded by partera.

rahida


rahida
Originally uploaded by partera.

high atlas


high atlas
Originally uploaded by partera.

henna maker


henna maker
Originally uploaded by partera.
this is ali s uncle

Flickr

This is a test post from flickr, a fancy photo sharing thing.

Friday, January 26, 2007

Neti neti! Change of plans again and other thoughts...

Nayla, Zoe and Kai at their nana's!

Hassan II mosque

The happy family!

It is amazing, I had done such a good job at not looking beyond the birth (and thus the possibility that I would not get to travel much beyond the greater Casablanca area) that I really didn't read much about Moroccan in any books. Once the opportunity to travel came up however, I soon found that I have about 3 months worth of backpacking aspirations and needed to be more realistic about a nice 7-9 day vacation rather than be in the mindset of a long-term backpacker. With the help of Trish, Sadek, Aurelia, Amine and Jess (my little posse of friends and family here!), I think we've come up with a great trip!

The postpartum period has been quite blissful for Aurelia, Sadek and Lila so far. Mama is still riding high from the birth, baby is contented, and papa is very much in love with the ladies of the house! Breastfeeding is going well--both Sadek and Aurelia are amazed at how big her breasts have become with the milk coming in--yesterday when I visited they had made a comment about it and I assured them they would be bigger today, and indeed I was right! Lila is nursing well, and today had her first of many adorable little outfits on (she had just been held skin-to-skin thus far).

I've been enjoying time at the beach. Walks with Trish and Kai along the ocean in the morning, some yoga, off to visit mom and baby in the city in the afternoon, some time with the girls early evening, and often hanging out at Jess's at night, doing work or being online or just hanging out listening to music or playing music. Wednesday night was amusing--three surfers (two Moroccans and one French) stopped by for various reasons over the course of a couple hours. One guy gets help with his English class homework from Jess. He's made a percussion instrument from a ceramic jug-- it is pretty cool. I took a video of it actually but forgot to snap a photo too. We helped him write a letter about why he wants to learn English (the bottom line of which is to be able to talk to the surfers who come to Dar Buazza and fall in love with an American woman!). He brought Jess a tupperware container of about 200 sea urchins that his aunt (I think?) prepared-- apparently some Moroccan specialty-either in cuisine or folk medicine. Was a bit (in surfer speak) gnarly. Then the other Moroccan man came in and he has beautiful dreads that go from brown near his scalp to a bright blonde at their ends, and I realized these were the two guys I've watched surfing on more than one occasion in the past couple weeks, and who I found watching me do yoga outside the cottage one morning. I've been somewhat hesitant to talk to men on the beach here (for many reasons), but wish I had known they spoke a little English so I could have met them earlier, but will be sure to chat them up and practice some English and Arabic when I see them again.

I had a very interesting experience at lunch yesterday. On Wednesdays, Trish and Amine and the girls have lunch at Amine's mother's house (Amine's mom and Sadek's mom are sisters and Sadek and Aurelia also generally go to his mom's on Wednesday's too). I was invited to join them today but Trish "forgot" to prepare me for the event. After practicing my Arabic on the crowded car ride to the city with Z'neb (Kai's babysitter) a big shift occurred once we got to Anfa. Amine's mom, Jolie, lives in a beautiful old home with a lot of interesting Moroccan and Spanish art and furniture and with one of the most gorgeous, lush, established private gardens in all of Morocco (due in large part to Sadek's plants and talents!). Their routine is to go for a formal lunch around 1pm and then the girls have French lessons in the afternoon (in the summer they all play by the pool in the middle of the garden but not this time of year). It was just a big change in atmosphere from what I am used to-- a bit stuffy and formal and kind of disconnected. I was thinking it was because I was there and there were some language issues, or they were uncomfortable because they didn't know me, but apparently that is just the way it is at these lunch affairs. But the food was lovely and abundant and traditional and I got to speak Spanish with Amine's mom and show them pictures of the baby. She is enamoured of her grandchildren and it was culturally and class-wise and cuisine-wise a good thing to experience.

Plus, we were crowded in the CRV on the way up, so I shared the front passenger seat with Z'neb, Kai's babysitter. And since we were in such close quarters, I thought it to be a good opportunity to practice some Arabic and quadrupled my vocab on the 30 minute drive (not hard to do when your starting number is 5!). The following day I also had a chance to practice when Mohammed drove me to the Hassan II mosque so I could (finally!) take my tour. He speaks a little English (i.e. much more than I speak Arabic) but not so much that we could have a conversation, so pointing to or miming things and getting the phrase in Arabic was more fun for both of us. He got quite a kick out of my attempts to pronounce some things -- Arabic is an absolutely beautiful language, but has so many subtelties and nuances in sound and pronunciation-- it can be quite difficult. I get a kick out of my attempts at jotting phrases down phonetically. Some of my favorites are: neti neti (basically, "uh oh", or "oh, shit!", mac kane mushil "no problem", B'zef "too much", "schwia-- little/less. I've also learned how to say "without meat" "without chicken", etc. to which Mohammed responded "what do you eat?". At this point I have about 50 words and phrases in my personal notebook, along with an Arabic phrasebook. Of course, now I'm actually heading to the more touristy parts of Morocco where more folks speak English. Interestingly, I've also noticed myself understanding a bit more French these past few days...hardly conversant or anything, and can't really speak much more than when I came (though to be fair to myself, a bit more!)-- but it is cool. Not so much that, for example, when I was waving to and walking towards a surfer in Dar Bouazza that looked so much like the drummer English-learning guy I met last night mentioned above, and then realized once I got closer it was totally not him and tried to explain that I thought he was someone else--we had an absolute blockage on communication. Neti neti! After a few attempts I walked away saying "Ca va!", "mac kane mushkil" and "inshallah" (as God wills). Language acquisition is so wonderful and I hope someday to be immersed for a long period of time somewhere to really learn another language again.

My friend Christine can't come after all. I woke up this morning to check on her flight status and instead found a litany of emails "URGENT: I AM NOT ON THE FLIGHT!" and "FLIGHT CANCELLED!". She had gotten her passport renewed and the office person either put the stamp in the wrong place, or with the wrong date-- anyway, something was not in order enough that in this post 9/11 world they would not let her on the flight and out of the country. So our last minute synchronicity suddenly fell into discord. Along with the gifts and goodies from the states that she was smuggling in for my friends here (lots of Dagoba chocolate for my fellow chocoholics here, 10 lbs of coffee for Amine, Tapatio taco sauce for Jess, etc) It is a bit sad and disappointing for both of us (of course, I get to be sad here in Morocco and she is in New Jersey-sorry Christine!) and I had shifted into excitement about and expectation of traveling with an old friend and re-kindling our friendship (which we plan to do once I get back). And spiritually, I being open to the message that I just need to go with the flow, get out there in the country and see what happens (with caution and mindfulness and awareness- don't worry mom and dad!). As Sadek said when I told him of the news this morning (I was particularly excited for them to meet each other with their common interests in gardening, plants and sustainability), "well, this leaves more rooms for surprises!". Inshallah.

Baby Lila is just fabulous, as is her mother and father. She has changed so much and is continuing to unfold into her little baby self. She had her first video skype call with her grandparents in France, and I am told she performed for them just beautifully. She's breastfeeding well, the parents have had some good discussions about what they need from each other in this early postpartum period, and I continue to be impressed by the beauty and openness and grace with which Aurelia and Sadek are approaching new parenthood-a process I am getting to witness firsthand even more than usual in my work as midwife. Aurelia and I were hanging out in her bedroom for a few hours last night, talking, sharing, jotting down helpful hints and reminders for when I'm away--a typical enough scene for me at a postpartum visit--but here I was in my bathrobe, fresh out of the shower, needing to be mindful of not pulling aside my robe to demonstrate a breastfeeding technique. This is the most time I've spent with a "cleint" this soon after the birth--actually living with them some, and being dependent on them in some ways not typical for me. It has revealed some new insights into what folks are going through and how there are things I can help prepare them for and assist with, and others they need to figure out in their own way and time.

On another note, while we were talking, Aurelia was showing me a gift from a friend who she described as the "really fat woman", and when I told her (knowing who she was referring to) that I thought it was a bit much to call her "really fat", maybe a little on the larger side, but not really fat, she remarked "Oh yes, but you are an American. That is as fat as we get here!" Ahh, to be known as the land of the fat and really fat....

Speaking of over-indulgence, as I mentioned, I went to tour the incredible, one of the wonders of the world in modern architecture, incredibly massive Hassan II (a recent King) Mosque. It is the third largest mosque in the world (after Mecca and Medina) and its worship area can fit up to 25,000 (20,000 men, 5,000 women). There is a lot of controversy about the mosque here-- it is right on the ocean over what used to be a slum and therefore displaced a lot of poor people, many people were killed during its construction, which amazingly happened over just 6 years of 10,000 craftsmen and 3000 laborers working in shifts 24/7-- literally, it was built by public subscription--i.e. everyone in the country paid for it whether they wanted to or not, to the tune of 600 million. But it is truly magnificent and the workmanship and art and craft put into it is so incredible--you just don't see things built like this anymore really. And all the materials, with two exceptions (the 57 gigantic Venetian glass chandeliers and some pure white marble) are from within Morocco. The entire complex is huge, right on the ocean, very dramatic and striking against the blue blue sky and the crashing waves. While I certainly understand people's discontent with the endeavor and the royalty's meglomania, etc. I can't help but thing that at least in this case in Morocco, a beautiful religious, artistic, architectural and spiritual masterpiece was created, whereas in the USA we build bombs and bombers that kill people by public subscription (i.e. our taxes) that add up to billions every year.

There was a decent sized English tour today and I met my first traveler...an Irishman named Martin, about 3 months into a year with his back through Africa. (He's in probably his late forties and has done a lot of 6 month-1 year trips and is up to 50-60 countries seen now). He was pretty impressive in his efficient, cheap, no-nonsense brand of touring. He's been in Morocco for 11 days and was quite surprised at both how few travelers he's seen and at how European Moroccans seem versus his recent experience in Ethiopia. We will both be in Marrakesh this weekend so perhaps I'll hear more about his adventures.

Well, that's it for now. I'm not sure if I'll be able to post while on the road...particularly with photos. Wish me fun and luck for the journey!

I have taken over 800 photos so far. I am having a frustrating time with uploading them and will try to create a link to flickr or something to provide more of a sampling.