20,000 Camel Bride

I'm behind on posting, but I'm going to skip Portugal and Cadiz, Spain for now to give you the more interesting stories from Morocco.

Morocco is definitely a land of contrasts for an American who has never been to Africa or Asia. In Casablanca I went with a group of friends to see the mosque built by King Hassan II for his 60th birthday. It is spectacular, shining in the sun on the rocky coast. It holds 25,000 worshippers inside, with an outdoor plaza to accomodate 80,000 total. It is constructed with mostly Moroccan materials, plus a little marble and titanium for good measure.

Hassan II mosque

Later in the day we walked past the mosque along the coast, trying to get to the lighthouse. Almost literally within the shadow of the opulent mosque, we happened upon slum dwellings made with clay, wood, and corrugated tin on what would be considered prime beachfront property in the US. On the next street over, or even a couple of blocks up, there are expensive tourist restaurants with all the comforts and an ocean view. But if you look closely, the tide line is marked by plastic trash, and there are fishermen on the rocks until the last moments of sunset. And everywhere there are dust, trash, and unpleasant smells.

In a souk

I also took an overnight trip to Marrakech and the Oureka Valley, where I experienced medinas (ancient town squares) and souks (labyrinthine marketplaces with dark stalls crowded with merchandise); and visited a women's co-op that makes argan oil, and a Berber family that makes their living hosting tourists for mint tea and lunch in their home on a hill. By the way, fellow Durhamites, the currency here is the dirham, so I had no trouble remembering it.

Woman making argan oil

There is too much to report here, but suffice it to say this is a land of sensory overload--sights, smells, heat, dust, sounds of hawkers calling to you and the 5-times-daily call to prayer for the Sunni Muslims that comprise 99% of the population.

Personal space is not at all what we’re used to. The sellers are friendly and joking but aggressive—they will grab your arm and pull you into the stall to seal the deal, or start putting a henna tattoo on you and then tell you how much you owe them for it. They try buzz phrases in many languages to see what makes you turn your head, then try to create a bond by guessing where you’re from.

My favorite was an artist in the Casablanca medina who put his arm around me and offered 20,000 camels to my male companions for their wife, since they apparently had three wives between them. They did not accept the offer, because we can't bring camels on the ship ;-) so I am still single and traveling with Semester at Sea.

Send your camels to bed