Moroccan Holiday 2011 in the Shamal: Chefchaouen, Meknes, and Sefrou

With teaching responsibilities done for the 2011 trimester, I took advantage of my two-week break to head down to the Land of the Far West, Morocco.  Because my incoming and outgoing flights were both out of Tangiers, I chilled out in Morocco's shamal (north) for the entire trip.  As I've shared before in previous blogs (Shamal Series), Northern Morocco certainly does not fit into the stereotypical desert oasis image of Morocco with its rolling hills of sprouting winter wheat and grass, lush coastal plains, snow-crowned mountain peaks, and temperatures that chill you to the bone.  The shamal offers plenty of beautiful scenery along with the always delicious Moroccan cuisine and famous hospitality.

On this latest trip, I got to spend more time in Chefchaouen hiking the mountain horns on which the city rests, got to sightsee around Meknes visiting the mausoleums, ancient prisons, granaries, plazas, and their majestic and enormous gates to its medieval city.  I also got to reminisce with friends in my old hometown of Sefrou sipping some nus-nus (half expresso & half milk) coffee or the famous sweet & bitter green tea at the mostly all-male cafes, and towards the end got to walk around the Tanger medina. All in all, it was a great trip aside from the usual gastric disturbances.  Below are a few pics from the trip.  Enjoy and safe travels!

Al-Maghrib mrra tenia

Is Your RPCV Exhibiting Errant Conversations Syndrome?

Just recently, Peace Corps released the latest in a string of public service announcements (PSAs) commemorating the agency's 50 years of service to the United States and many parts of the world.  One PSA in particular captured my attention because it did an excellent job of portraying the random anecdotes I've been sharing with friends and family when I come across something that reminds me of my time in Morocco.

When greeting people for instance, I've been shaking people's hand as you customarily do here in the States, but now I proceed, as I did in Morocco, to place my right hand near to my heart to show my respect or to express how dear that person or that encounter is to me.  In Morocco, it was second nature to follow the handshake with a tap to one's heart, and despite being back home with old friends and in a completely different setting, my body almost involuntarily follows the same process.  Sometimes I catch myself in the act or others point it out, and explaining the gesture is often a topic of an errant conversation.

As far as language, I miss speaking darija.  The Moroccan Arabic dialect was fun to speak.  Phonetically speaking, it was a challenge to sound off the "ع" (aain) or "غ" (ghain) or the back of the throat "ق" (qa) or even the emphatic D, T, or to differentiate between the airy "ه" (similar to the 'h' for hello) or the raspy "ح" (similar to the sound you make to check if your breath smells).  During the first few months of service, combining some of these sounds seemed impossible, but after some time my tongue somehow came to accords with the sounds my ear was finally able to recognize and distinguish and slowly began to mimic them 'to the t'.

Even more challenging was understanding the hidden or indirect messages in Moroccan speech.  During training we were told that Moroccans used a ton of what our cultural and language facilitators called "God phrases" as part of their everyday language.  So instead of saying goodbye, they would say llah y3nk (God help you).  To thank someone for a good deed or to ask for a favor, they could say 3afak (the equivalent of please), but in most cases they would say llah yrHm l-walidin (God bless your parents) and my all-time favorite, preceding or following any statement calling for or mentioning any future action, insh'allah (God willing).

When I first arrived in site all 'gun ho' about starting a new project and building community support for it, I spoke to a number of people and tried to persuade them to join me in addressing some of the expressed needs of the community, but towards the end of our meetings, a large number of people would simply finish off our conversations with an insh'allah.  While it is true that we do not know what will happen tomorrow and we have little control over the future, being told that it was all up to God's will seemed a little fatalistic to me.  Later on though, I learned that the use of insh'allah was not only a way to show respect to the all-knowing God, but it was also used to say 'no' without offending the other person or to express that something is unlikely to happen.

Later on when people recognized that my speaking abilities had improved and I had demonstrated some fundraising capacity, some of the same people that had inshalla-ed me before began proposing their project ideas to me.  Unfortunately, by then I had already made commitments to other groups and had enough work for the rest of service, so without offending them, I respectfully inshalla-ed them back.

Back in the states, some people have proposed going to such and such an event or organizing something, and I've involuntarily blurted out insh'allah and I'm not doing it out of respect to God (although I respect It greatly), but mainly because the event or the activity does not appeal to me.  Sometimes I catch myself and sometimes others catch me saying it and wonder what the heck came out of my mouth, but then I explain that I do not know if I can or will be able to because it truly is up to God.  I say that I can't rule it out, but that I'd rather defer to God because no one really knows what the future may bring.  Unfortunately, this answer does not fly with most of my friends who still interpret this answer as some sort of newfound religious piety--not at all consistent with my beliefs and lifestyle--and not as a cordial way to say 'I am really not that interested'.  Then again, most U.S. Americans prefer directness, which is a cultural aspect that I've had to get readjusted to and that is often another subject of an errant conversation.

See the minute-long PSA titled "Conversations" below:    



Errant Conversation Syndrome (ECS) is common among all RPCVs.  Most exhibit symptoms throughout their lifetime.  They speak about their projects, language challenges, cultural differences, past bowel movements, pros and cons of Peace Corps, and a host of other service-related experiences.  At this time, there is no known "cure" (nor should there be) for this phenomenon, but I hear that active listening and a non-judgmental attitude are always welcomed.  And who knows? You may learn a thing or two from all these random pieces of information.  Thanks for reading.

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If you'd like to learn more darija, please visit the Friends of Morocco page on Learning Moroccan Arabic. I've also selected a few books on one of the recommended book widgets.  BssHa to your learning!

To watch other Peace Corps PSAs, please visit: http://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.media.psa

My Unfinished List of Moroccan Culinary Treats: Mint Tea, Marinated Olives, Pure Olive Oil, Chebekia, and Harira

Moroccans are proud of their cuisine and they should be; it's some of the most tasty, best seasoned, and diverse in the Mediterranean.  Sometimes you need to take a drive to experience the diversity, and if you do, you'll certainly be rewarded.  Below is just one list of many lists to come.

I actually did not cook a lot of Moroccan food while in service, but was a happy recipient of a lot of home-cooked meals.  In most cases, the kitchen was off-bounds for me so I had to ask other female volunteers or search the web for insight into the magic that was taking place behind closed doors.  As I sit back and reflect on my two years of Peace Corps service, the cuisine is something that I'll surely miss.  However, even though I am back stateside, there's no reason why I shouldn't try to recreate the magic.  I'm going to give it my best shot.  Some of the items listed have links to recipes and preparation videos so I invite you to do the same.  Enjoy the read and enjoy the food!

Aatay b na na (Moroccan Arabic name for their sweet-as-molasses Moroccan mint tea) a.k.a. "Le Whisky Marocain"

Some Moroccan Tea at the Cascades of Ouzoud

Moroccans cannot be separated from their tea.  If the price of tea were to go up or if the government were to impose a tax on the consumption of tea, without a doubt there would be a massive revolt.  It is a Moroccan staple that is unlikely to change for many years to come.

No matter where you go, there will be countless invitations to share a little tea.  In the cold winters, there's nothing better to warm you up or to give your body a sugar jolt.  At first, I was really turned off by all the sugar, but then I began to miss the taste of their tea and towards the end I would get on the garçon's (waiter) case about skimping on the sugar.

The distinct taste is a result of two main factors.  Unlike the American or British tradition of pouring hot water over the leafs or herbs and letting it brew in the mug, Moroccans brew their green tea leaves in their ornamental teapots, they then add a brick of sugar and brew it a little longer, and then they turn off the gas and add fresh mint (naa na), verveine (luiza), or other seasonal herbs like wormwood (chiba) - the stuff they use to make absinthe.  All three varieties are super delicious and healthy if you cut down on the sugar.  I invite you to try them all.

You may also find that many Moroccans don't blow on their tea to cool it; instead, they slurrrp it.  It took me a while to master the technique, but essentially you breath it in as you drink it and it has the same cooling effect if you do it right. BssHA (To your health) on your tea drinking! 

Mountains of Olives

Moroccan black olives

Seasoned Moroccan green olives

Morocco is blessed with the perfect climate to produce some of the finest olives in the Mediterranean.  Their seasonal winter rains and clear, blue summer sky are ideal for the sun-loving olive groves.  For someone who was a fan of olives already, arriving in Morocco and seeing heaps upon heaps of olives at the souq (market) was such a comforting and overwhelming experience.  What's even more mind-blowing is how great each variety tastes and even more amazing than that is how cheap they are.  Your typical U.S. supermarket stocks various sizes of green Spanish olives or bland black ones.  In contrast, most Moroccan markets showcase their largess in rows of olive peaks of light and dark green olives marinated in a mix of red peppers or lemon and parsley, purple olives, and the bitter and wrinkly, but flavor-packed black olives. 

Moroccan cuisine incorporates olives into their meals quite well.  I remember one day during my Community-Based Training my host mother marinated a whole chicken with onions, peppers, lemon rinds, and a dash of saffron and other spices, placed it in the oven with all the seasonings and then brought out a golden brown chicken that was surrounded by a moat of tangy chicken broth on an innumerable amount of green olives bobbing in suspension just asking to be devoured.  I had this meal over two years ago and I can remember it as if it was yesterday.  What a delicious feast!

Unadulterated Olive Oil

Unfortunately, I don't have a picture of Moroccan olive oil.  In terms of appearance, it looks a lot like the olive oil from Spain or Italy.  Some oils are filtered more than others.  Personally, I liked the strong bitter taste of some of the country-pressed oil that had undergone less filtering.

A typical breakfast in Morocco consisted of fresh out-of-the-oven bread that was then broken up and dabbed over olive oil.  Not what you would typically eat as breakfast in the U.S., but oh was it tasty.  The hot, toasty bread dunked in a little oil would simply melt in your mouth and the aroma of the oil was so wonderfully pleasant.

With such a large supply of olives, olive oil can be found everywhere also for much cheaper than you would find at U.S. or European stores.  I am surprised that Moroccan olive oil has not made it to U.S. stores yet.  According to the latest "Free Trade" deal between the U.S. and Morocco, olives and olive oil were going to be one of the few commodities that would start flowing to the U.S.  I hope it does, and I hope it does soon.

Ramadan Sweet Treats: Chebekia

When I arrived in Morocco back in September of '08, I got in about mid-way through Ramadan, a month characterized by the dawn to dusk no food or drink fast and more religious observance.  As you can imagine during the day, most people in the streets deprived of any liquids or food are moving in slow-motion careful not to exhaust their reserves.  When I first heard of Ramadan, I wasn't aware of the liquids ban and thought, "Now that's extreme." Then, later on I was invited to break the fast with my host family and tasted my first chebekia and thought, "Now that's extreme flavor!"

Even the bees are crazy for chebekia

These golden brown rolled and folded fried cookie dough treats smothered in honey and sprinkled with sesame seeds were a wake-up call to my taste buds.  No MSGs necessary to go on a binge.  These confections are naturally addicting.

Sometimes I think that I should go on an anthropological expedition to find out how different foods came about.  Is there a National Geographic show or something on the Food channel on this?  Well, if there is, the next episode should focus on these crunchy, sweet hard-to-put-down confections.  Until a show reveals the history and evolution of this delicious Moroccan delight, I will thank the culinary God(s) for giving my fellow Moroccans this bit of divine inspiration.    

In my old town of Sefrou, I could buy about a quarter kilo for 5DH (less than $1) from a old medina hole-in-the-wall Hlwa hanut (sweets vendor), and I would typically finish it in one night.  If I wanted some with real honey instead of syrup, I would shell out about twice as much at a fancy patisserie for about the same amount.  It's a dieter's worst nightmare.  Mountain Dew wouldn't stand a chance against these guys in jacking up your blood sugar so unless you're going to expend the calories, eat responsibly.

Click here if you wish to see a recipe.  Fortunately, if you're on your way to Morocco, no need to wait until Ramadan; most patisseries and some old medina Hlwa street vendors carry them year-round.

Harira

Whenever someone utters the word harira, my mind automatically drifts to my first bowl ever where I learned the art of eating it with bowl in hand, swishing it around in circular motion, and then giving it a hearty slurp.  In the cold Moroccan winters, it was a lifesaver.  When I was broke, it would stave off a growling stomach without breaking the bank (2DH or 25 cents for a bowl).

Harira, harira, hariraaaaa!!!

Tomato serves as the base, but with cilantro, parsley, ginger, onions, chickpeas, lentils, carrots, celery, and a handful of vermicelli all mixed in, it's much more than a tomato soup; it's a bonanza of flavor that is full of substance.

Harira is also very common during Ramadan.  Generally, families break the fast with a bowl before moving on to other life-reviving foods.  Not to worry though, harira can also be found year-round at most restaurants, hole-in-the-wall harira vendors, and a lot of families make it to survive the winter.  Some will add a bit of harsha (the equivalent of American corn-bread) to it or will break apart a chebekia on top.  Others that like the sweet and salty combination will simply eat some dates while slurping a mouthful of harira.  There are many ways to experience this hearty soup.  If you're unsure how to approach it, try them all!

Do try this at home! Click here for the recipe.

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Before I wrote this entry, I thought about ranking the items, but then I thought about how silly rankings really are.  I mean how do you compare chebekia to couscous; they're on two different playing fields and my rankings were in constant fluctuation as one couscous tasted better or different in someone's home than it did in someone else's.  Also, every region in Morocco prepares things slightly different depending on the availability of ingredients.  I still have a lot more food items that I need to write about.  This list is bound to grow in the coming months and years.

Thanks for reading and again BssHa (To your health) on your culinary endeavors.

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I found a few bestselling books on Moroccan cuisine on Amazon.  According to one reviewer, Paula Wolfert wrote a textbook-like guide to Moroccan cooking back in the 1970s that is still the authoritative book.  Some of the newer ones have better pictures, but may not be as authentic.  Check them out!

  

Amoebas No More, Inshallah

In one of my last blogs, I spoke about how insignificant I felt walking in the midst of towering mountains and plateaus that have been carved and molded over millennia by the chaotic cosmic forces of the universe.  Well, there happens to be something else that has also been around for millennia that has also made me feel completely insignificant and powerless, yet their size is microscopic at best, but the havoc they can wreck can render the healthiest and the most fit completely useless.  Yet, I don't think they have ever made it into a snazzy National Geographic documentary perhaps because they don't shoot out any venom, have sharp teeth, or strike at lightning speed; nonetheless, they should be given a show of their own and be recognized as a force to be reckoned with.  I speak of none other than the tiny, yet almighty amoeba.

On two separate instances, amoebas have invaded my stomach.  You would think that with all the gastric acid sloshing around that these little critters would never have a chance to survive, but somehow they do.  According to the authoritative Wikipedia, the name amoeba comes from the Greek work amoibe, which means change.  Before the word amoibe came about, Wikipedia says, "Early naturalist referred to Amoeba as Protus animalcule after the Greek God Protus who could change his shape."  And indeed, they do.  They expand, shrink, and form protective sheaths around themselves.  These critters are the shadiest of characters lurking in what appears to be refreshingly clean spring water, coasting on the surface of what looks like well-cooked and certainly appetizing street food, or hiding within what seems like healthy looking fruits and veggies.  It's impossible to tell when they arrived or from whence they came because they often forgo duplication until the environment is just right for them.  Oh but when they do, be ready for the gastrointestinal fight of the ages.  

Within the volunteer community, conversations about our bowel movements are as common as speaking about the weather.  We have come to regard a solid stool as something of a novelty and reminds us of better days.  Those fond memories help us weather the days when it feels as if all your internal organs are being liquefied and being expelled with the force of a cataclysmic volcanic eruption that is then followed by tremors, murmurs, and subsequent explosions that leave one feeling completely helpless and subject to the will of your stomach.

During these recurrent blasts of liquid fire, your stomach becomes a prima-donna of sorts rejecting anything that it deems unworthy of its peculiar taste, and sometimes it rejects any food or beverage outright.  Fortunately for these moments, our Peace Corps med kits are stocked with sodium and electrolyte packets that when mixed with water are the equivalent of chugging a full glass of ocean water. Yum, yum!  Naturally, without any food or calories to burn, your body goes into hibernation mode.  The common saying ‘I feel empty inside’ voiced by many seeking some sort of spiritual transcendence or satisfaction in their lives takes on a literal meaning.

After a day of violent convulsions and eruptions, your stomach now purged of the foreign invaders begins to tolerate some simple starches.  From there, we begin our BRAT diet regime, which includes bananas, rice, apples, and toast.  It's a rather bland menu, but flavor is the last thing on your mind.  With every bite you take, you utter a prayer in the hopes that your inflamed, hypersensitive, and enzyme-depleted stomach will accept the tiniest of morsels.

Little by little, your stomach returns to normalcy, but unless you’ve undergone treatment to eradicate the versatile amoeba, the Hindenburg style bloating, napalm spewing anus, and magma churning stomach are bound to return.  The PC Med Team is well versed on amoebas, giardia, food poisoning, and other symptoms of gastrointestinal warfare.  Over the course of my service, I’ve been on an intensive three-day as well as a seven-day treatment of Tinidazole and/or Intetrix.  Upon taking the drugs, you may think that all will be fine and well from henceforth, but that path to recovery is a long and troublesome road.  In some cases, the drugs can be just as debilitating as the amoebas.  The medicine kills all bacteria even the good guys leaving your stomach devoid of the normal flora needed to break down food.  

In the absence of your normal bacteria, sometimes yeast can multiply uninhibited giving you more gas and other strange symptoms.  In such cases, you scrap the BRAT diet and introduce a more complex diet of cooked veggies, proteins, yogurt, and some friendly probiotic treatments like Ultra Levure. 

When I get back to the states, I’m totally auditioning for the Bio Activia commercials.  My dialogue with that of another volunteer would go something like this:

            Jonathan: [Casually with an empathetic smile] Hi, Mary, have you been spewing fire from every orifice again?

            Mary: [Sighing] Oh, thank goodness that’s over, but I’ve been bedridden for the last few days ever since taking my anti-parasite medicine and my stomach can’t digest worth a crap. [Ha ha]

            Jonathan: Been there.  Have you ever tried Activia?

            Mary: Activia?

            Jonathan: Yes, that’s what I said.

            Mary: Why no? What is it?

            Jonathan: It’s a magical yogurty concoction that contains Bifidus Regularis.

            Mary: What the heck is Bifidus Regularis?

            Jonathan: It’s friendly bacteria that can help in the digestive process after your typical Mt. Saint Helen’s-esque eruptions or whiplash-like convulsions.

            Mary: Why Jonathan, I’m just gonna have to try it!

            Jonathan: You won’t regret it, but if you still have excessive gas, constipation, diarrhea, and other abnormal symptoms on a frequent basis, check with your doctor because the parasites must have really done a number on you and you may be in need of a complete revamp of your diet that may or may not include Activia to avoid the onset of other chronic gastrointestinal disturbances.

            Mary:  Wow, Jonathan. I knew I could count on you to provide me a prolonged explanation that is only slightly comforting.

            Jonathan:  Hey, that’s what I’m here for.

I’m going to pitch it to Danone when I get back.  I’m sure it will have to go through legal and their med unit before it’s approved.  I’ll keep you posted.

The road to recovery is one that needs to be reassessed on a continuous basis.  The PC Med Team has already confirmed that I will have health vouchers so that I can conduct all the necessary tests and trials to ensure that traces of parasites are absent from my fragile and sensitive system, which may entail a government-funded colonoscopy.  Bring it on!

Amoeba Action Figure

As you may know, I am all about full disclosure.  I knew quite well that coming to Peace Corps, inherently, carries a number of risks.  If I'm not mistaken, the number one cause of death amongst volunteers is transportation accidents, which to some extent is out of your hands.  Anti-parasite meds usually take care of amoebas, but the after effects of the damage and the side effects of the meds can last for a brief moment or could develop into something more long-term.  But unlike transportation accidents, you can reduce your chances of an epic bout with amoebas to nil.  When I first arrived in Morocco, I criticized Moroccan cuisine for their propensity to cook their veggies to a mush.  I cried, “Oh where, oh where have all the raw veggies and salads gone?” Now I understand why.  They know all about amoebas and wisely pressure-cook their veggies until they resemble a dilapidated, torn, and strewed figure of their once wholesome selves.  Now, I say, “Bring on the mush.”  I scoffed when other volunteers living in urban sites like mine would boil their water saying, “Why do you waste precious buta gas on treated water?”  Now, after learning that even in my own town of Sefrou treatment capacity is compromised after heavy rains, which happens quite often during the winter months, I boil my water religiously.  As far as street food is concerned, I said a sorrowful goodbye.  Our PC Med Team did share a lot of information at Pre-service Training, but I think my youthful naiveté of invincibility clouded my thinking, and as such, I learned a very important lesson: that even the most fit is no match for the itty-bitty, teeny-weensy yet all powerful amoebas.  

Not surprisingly, even poets acknowledged the magnificence of these little creatures.  Here’s a witty tribute by Arthur Guiterman:

"Ode To The Amoeba"

Recall from Time's abysmal chasm

That piece of primal protoplasm

The First Amoeba, strangely splendid,

From whom we're all of us descended.

That First Amoeba, weirdly clever,

Exists today and shall forever,

Because he reproduced by fission;

He split himself, and each division

And subdivision deemed it fitting

To keep on splitting, splitting, splitting;

So, whatsoe'er their billions be,

All, all amoebas still are he.

Zoologists discern his features

In every sort of breathing creatures,

Since all of every living species,

No matter how their breed increases

Or how their ranks have been recruited,

From him alone were evoluted.

King Solomon, the Queen of Sheba

And Hoover sprang from that amoeba;

Columbus, Shakespeare, Darwin, Shelley

Derived from that same bit of jelly.

So famed is he and well-connected,

His statue ought to be erected,

For you and I and William Beebe

Are undeniably amoebae!

(http://www.blueridgejournal.com/poems/ag-amoeba.htm)

Traversing Morocco's South: "There Is No Paradise Without the Desert"

The other day I was watching an interesting interview on Riz Khan's One on One program that airs on Al-Jazzera English. The guest on the show was Nacer Khemir, a famous Tunisian cinematographer and writer. In the interview, he spoke about the importance of the desert in Arab culture.  He said that without the desert, there would be no paradise and "this quest for paradise is the true essence of Islam." He added that Arab civilizations are "constructed around a void." He pointed out that The Kaaba in Mecca, considered to be the center of the universe for Muslims, is an empty cube, good calligraphy is judged by the void, not the full, the desert is often described as both full and empty, and lastly he said that the word for the number zero also means empty, which explains why some people shout a number of obscenities at me from time to time and then finish by uttering the number zero. He tied it all in by saying, "It's the creation of emptiness inside you so that something can come. And if this emptiness is essential, the Divine arrives." See the full length interview below in which he also speaks of other challenges facing Arab culture and identity and Sufism. He provides a wealth of insight in just 20 minutes.



As I write this blog about my travels through the vast, sun-scorched wilderness of the south of Morocco, I can't help but think of some of the imagery Khemir mentioned.  I often wonder if the Holy Scriptures would have been significantly different if the prophets and apostles had lived in the tropical rainforests of my native Venezuela.  Would Moses have relayed the message to the Children of Israel about going to a 'land of milk and honey' if say they were already enjoying sweet and tangy pineapples, fat and juicy mangoes, mouth-watering papayas, just-like-butta avocados, fun-to-munch-on sugar cane, and getting their fill of the hearty cassava(yuca) and a host of other tropical fruits and veggies?  Would Moses have had to strike a rock if say the Amazon and Orinoco River and their many tributaries were already providing for their water needs?  Would there be so many references in the Qur'an about paradise if say they already lived in one?

Prior to coming to Morocco, I would say that I could sympathize with the Children of Israel, but I couldn't really empathize.  I just didn't have any real context to go by.  Growing up in Venezuela(politics aside), I thought I was already living in the Garden of Eden: lush green and beautiful scenery all around, delicious tropical fruits and veggies available, etc, etc.  When our family moved to the U.S., I lived in areas that were also blessed with frequent rains that kept the lawns and the agricultural fields green, and in Oklahoma and Indiana, deers were literally prancing around in the forest.  I had seen some dunes here and there, but they were mostly isolated patches of sand.  I once traveled through Arizona and Nevada and saw a bit of their deserts.  I was told that the wandering-through-the-wilderness portion of the epic Ten Commandments movie was filmed there, and I can see why they chose that location.  When I drove through, it certainly looked dry, rocky, and devoid of life as some parts of the south of Morocco do.  However, what the Arizona and Nevada deserts don't have is the striking contrast of a lush, green palmerie against the backdrop of a barren, rocky hillside.  Naturally, as you look out your taxi window to allow your mind to escape the cramped and smelly confines you find yourself in, your eyes gravitate to these clusters of green out on the plain, sprouting from a river bed, or wedged in a mountain ravine.  As you reach these oases and palmeries, you do get the urge to say "hamdulillah" (Thanks be to God) or to thank the cosmic forces of the universe for creating this small haven or paradise in the middle of this unbearably hot and hostile terrain.

While traveling through the south of Morocco, I guess you could say that I experienced somewhat of a revelation or better yet a grand clarification.  True, Morocco is really at the fringes of the Sahara and granted I only spent a total of 3 hours on a camel and took a bus to jump from one oasis to another, but I think that even this brief exposure gave me more context than I ever had about the realities and the dynamics at play in a harsh desert environment.

For instance, I can understand why some would be skeptical of people who live out in the desert wilderness and then come to an oasis city yelling that the end is near.  I would have probably handed that person a pitcher of water and then asked, "Now, what was it that you were trying to say?"  Or, I can empathize somewhat with the Children of Israel's reluctance to leave the fertile Nile Delta for a journey through the desert wilderness of the Sinai in order to reach the Promised Land.  I also understand why the Three Kings traveled by night.  They used the stars as their compass, but probably and just as important was their desire to avoid the heat.  I cannot imagine rocking back and forth on a camel in 100 degree plus heat.  Let's just say that after this trip, the stories in The Scriptures began to make a little more sense.

I'm actually heading to Jordan and Egypt after Close-of-Service or as Peace Corps now defines it, "Continuation-of-Service".  Starting November 14, I'm going to be retracing some of the steps Joshua and Moses took in leading the Children of Israel to the Promised Land, but I'm doing it all backwards.  I'm going to Jordan, maybe Israel, and then onto Egypt.  I first thought of going from the land of bondage to the Promised Land, but my frequent flyer miles and flight deals are forcing me to go the opposite way.  Is this a sign?  I should know when I reach Mt. Sinai.

I'm going to be visiting some Jordanian volunteers, crashing some hostels, and couchsurfing some of it.  I hope my Moroccan Arabic will help me get through the trip and allow me to understand a tidbit of what people are saying.  The sites I'm visiting are sites that I have read about ever since I was a kid.  Perhaps, when I arrive at the various sites I will receive another revelation or grand clarification.  Rest assured that if I do, I'll be sure to post it.    

In a future blog, I will expand on the rest of the places I visited on my southern trek with photos, hotel stays, travel tips, and all.  Thanks for reading.

The Shamal Series Honorable Mentions: Volubilis, Oulmes, Mehdia Beach, and Mouley Bousselham

Continuing on with the Shamal Series, I'd like to present a few travel options that I think are worth a stop if you have the time.  I write these entries to let people know about other places other than your well-known tourist-magnet cities like Fez, Marrakesh, or Essaouira, in the hopes that you may have the chance to have as good a time as I had visiting these sites.

1) Volubilis (To Moroccans, Walili)

Actually, this first site is perhaps one of the most popular tourist spots in all of Morocco and draws thousands of people from around the world every year (The next site is out of the beaten path; I promise).  Volubilis is one of the largest ruins of Roman civilization in the Maghreb.  It is set in the middle of a wide open expanse of farmland.  According to my Rough Guide to Morocco, the Romans chopped down the trees in the region to make room for the cultivation of wheat and other grains and for olive trees that to this day border the hillside.  The place is pretty big and you do get the sense that you are in the midst of what used to be a vibrant commercial center.

I think what is cool about the place is how different the architecture and the layout of the city is in comparison to the medieval-esque medinas of Morocco.  The Romans expressed themselves artistically through imagery and exalted their nobles; as such, they created some very elaborate stone-pixel mosaics to enshrine for centuries to come those they admired. A sharp contrast to the Muslim cities where Islam prohibited the construction of statues and mosaics of faces, bodies, or any figure.  In their place, their medieval cities are adorned with intricate geometric kaleidoscope like mosaics and calligraphy.

Mosaic of the Athlete

The mosaics of the various city nobles are also impressive.  I've been told that watching the sunrise or sunset over the ancient city ruins is amazing.  For sure, don't go when I went at the height of the day when the sun is bearing down on you.  There are only a few trees around for shade so plan accordingly.  There is a nice cafe near the entrance with some trees, and across the street you can find a few gift shops and hanuts selling all sorts of snacks and even some ice cream.  

To get there, go to Meknes.  If you're arriving via grand taxi from Rabat or Fes, you'll be dropped off across the street from the bus station (gare routière or maHtta d kiran).  If you arrive at either of the Meknes train stations, take a petit taxi to the gare routière.  Just below the gare routière (not the CTM one), you will find grand taxis that run to Mouley Idriss about 30k north of Meknes.  Fare was 10DH in 2010 for your typical one butt-cheek sitting space.  The grand taxi will drop you off at the city square where you'll find plenty of station wagon taxis with signs to Volubilis charging around 5DH for the 5K ride.  For the return trip, you could tag along with other tour groups back to Meknes.  You could also trek back to Mouley Idriss and from there you can find plenty of taxis heading to Meknes.  A lot of taxis frequent the road picking up passengers on the way back to Meknes.  We boarded one of those taxis and paid the same amount we would have paid had we left from Moulay Idriss.  How do you know if they're in the business of picking up passengers? You can flag them down or just wait to hear a beep, which can mean two things: I have room for you or you're about to get run over.  Just be alert.

2) Oulmes

This little town is the site of one of the finest finds in all of Morocco: the Source Llala Haya, provider of the best tasting effervescent mineral water in all of Morocco.  There are a number of ways to get to Oulmes.  I went by way of Khemisset.  From the main Khemisset grand taxi station, small passenger vans called (transits or stuffits--no kidding and they do stuff them to the brim sometimes) head out to Oulmes.  The ride there is a little bumpy and curvy as the transit winds through the mountain ledges and plows through the hillside.  Once out of Khemisset, all you can see is wheat farms, cows and sheep grazing, and rolling hills and mountains dotted with shrubbery trees.  It took about an hour or so to get there.  We chilled out with some fellow PCVs for the night and then headed out early morning to the source.  We took a small transit that cost 4DH to get to the site of the bottling facility.

From there it was a 3K downhill trek zig-zagging all the way on a paved trail to the source, and on the trail you get to see up close the shrubbery trees dotting the rocky mountainside.  Upon reaching the source, you cross a river to what looks like a small shaded campsite facility.  There are attendants there who welcome you and give you a 2-minute tour of the facility basically showing you where the water is coming from and the room where a couple of bathtub-size pits have been dug in to accommodate those who wish to experience the magical healing powers of the thermal waters of Oulmes.  The water is streaming in and emptying out so it seemed pretty hygienic.

Johnny performing a do-it-yourself baptism at the source

I didn't take a bath, but I did wash my head a bit, which was wonderfully refreshing after the brief hike.  At the site, they got a few picnic tables overlooking the ravine.  Later on, I was about to drink straight out of this water hose by the picnic tables, but the attendant told me that the water at the campsite was unfiltered and was kind enough to give us a couple of Sidi Ali water bottles free-of-charge.  We then hiked up back to the bottling facility and from there we took the transit ride back to Oulmes.  

The bottling company has a hotel offering thermal baths, and my PCV friends said that the restaurant there is also very good.  For more information, see the link below:    

http://www.oulmes.ma/indexfr.htm

3) Mehdia Beach

As a pisces, my connection and attraction to water are stronger than most.  Luckily for me, the ocean is only about a three-hour train ride away.  It's a luxury and one that I indulge in whenever possible.  Every here and then I get the chance to go to Rabat for some official Peace Corps business and on such occasions I make sure a trip to the beach is on the agenda.

Mehdia Beach is the ideal spot if you want to get away from the hustle and bustle of the capital city and relax in the laid-back atmosphere of this beach resort/fishing town.  The beach is fairly long, the water is calm, although the surf can pick up later in the afternoon and onto the evening.  There are plenty of cafés, restaurants serving a range of seafood and fried fish, and hotels and maison d'hôtes for every kind of traveler, and it is not packed with tourist, but mostly locals.  The only downside is that it can get a little trashy from time to time, not people-wise per se, but just lots of litter, so watch your step as you stroll through the beach.

Perhaps the reason why it is not so tourist-heavy is  due to its somewhat remote location, but by no means should it discourage anyone from going there.  It's actually very easy to get there even with public transportation.  From Rabat, take the train to Kenitra Medina Station, the last stop on the urban rail lines that run every half hour from Casablanca.  Upon exiting the station, make a right towards the stairs, climb up the stairs, make a right at the top walking down until you reach an Oil Libya gas station, from there make a left and walk straight past all the hanuts until you reach the end of the block, and then look to your right and some orange grand taxis should be there waiting for passengers.  Normally, once you reach the Oil Libya gas station you should be able to see the taxis, but right now the square where they congregate is under construction.  If anything, just ask the hanut owners for the mahtta d taksiyat d Mehdia and they'll point you in the right direction.  Taxi fare was 5DH.  Train ride from Rabat was 15DH, and all in all, it should take you no more than an hour from the Rabat Ville Station to the sands of Mehdia.

4) Mouley Bousselham

If you still feel like getting even farther away from the city, a trip to Mouley Bousselham can probably soothe the most erratic nerves.  Because it´s a little bit further out, you see even less tourists and certainly more locals.  To the west is the beach and to the south is a beautiful lagoon and marshland called the Merdja Zerga that is frequented by a whole array of migratory birds, egrets, and even some flamingos.

Last time I was there, the beach had some rough waves and strong undercurrents.  It was closely guarded by lifeguards.  I mainly saw some families playing near the edge of the water and a good number of fishermen laying out multiple fishing poles and then chilling back on a lawn chair. The lagoon empties onto the ocean so I imagine that it is safer to swim.

I stayed at Hotel Miramar on the oceanfront, one of the cheaper options in town, but I don't recommend it.  The rooms are big.  They have a bedroom and a salon with ponges ideal for a small family.  They started at 250DH for the night, but we bargained down to 200DH.  One could  probably go a bit further.  The hot water in the public bathrooms never worked morning or night and at night the terrace is used as a pool hall with chabbi music blaring until 1-2AM despite requests to have the music lowered.

It was funny to hear the locals in the other rooms saying that there were foreigners in the hotel.  Mouley Bousselham is one of many sites Moroccans make a pilgrimage to in order to honor their various saints and tribal leaders of the past.  The Marabout of Mouley Bousselham rests prominently next to the grand plaza on the oceanfront.
    
Food-wise, many restaurants are serving all sorts of grilled or fried seafood for reasonable rates.  One piece of advice is to stay near the oceanfront and away from the lagoon side as you get closer to the night.  Just moving out of the ocean breeze for a bit can land you a good number of mosquito bites.  Overall though, a nice, clean, and quiet beach to calm the nerves.

To get there from Rabat, take a train to Kenitra Medina Station and upon exiting make a left and walk towards the grand taxis going to Mouley Bousselham.  The fare was 40DH and about an hour long.  They take the toll road to Tangiers for much of the way. You are dropped off about 1k from the oceanfront. As you get near it, you'll be presented with various maison d'hotes options from various faux guides that may actually be better than the hotel options.

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I think this about wraps up the Shamal Series.  There are still a number of places in northern Morocco that are worthy of individual entries namely Chefchaouen.  I actually went there, but just crashed the place for only one night.  Inchallah, I'll have the opportunity to visit and hike a bit in the Rif Mountains.

I've yet to talk about my trips to the south of the country.  I hope to highlight a few of them such as: the desert trek, the Todra Gorge, the palmeries, and some of the beaches near and around Agadir.  It's been quite an experience to see so much contrast in the landscape from marshlands to a sea of desert dunes, coastal plains to towering mountains, and an oasis of palmeries in the middle of a desert wilderness.  Moroccans are lucky to live in such a country.  I hope everyone has the chance to see what I have seen and to marvel at the beauty that perhaps a deity or the cosmic forces of the universe has created.

BssHa (To your health) on your travels!