Road to Marrakesh, Part II

Okay, I think I posted too many photos, so stupid Blogger is making me do this in two parts. whatever. Anyway!

We continued our way into the Atlas mountains to commence our hike. I was thinking 'How hard can it be, our guide said he was in the discoteque all night and he's still wearing his club clothes'. I was wrong. You know those rickety wooden bridges, like in Indiana Jones? I crossed about 5 of those, and we had to cross the river several other times just by hopping over rocks, but despite Mustapha's club clothes, he proved to be quite the mountain goat, and a great guide. He only had to carry me part of the way.
Just kidding!

We also saw some amazing views during our hike:
Berber villages, nestled in the mountainsThe little restaurants along the river. Note the rickety bridge!

On Monday Molly and I explored the Souks further:
Some snake charmers in the square. You're supposed to pay them for photos, but this fellow took a liking to me. I think it's because he could tell I love snakes so much. The cobras were a little much, though, they would hiss and strike when people walked by. That's a little much, even for me!These guys just ran up to us and threw monkeys on us, although we had no money. They feel just like little humans though, especially their hands, and they're so soft and furry, I want one!!!
We also bought nuts and dried fruits from this guy. Booths like this are everywhere in the square, and for some reason he insisted I be in the booth for a photo. Oh well, why fight it? All the people were so nice!This is the Berber Pharmacie we went to-it's just tons of these brightly colored unlabeled jars and the fellow explained what everything is. It smells great with all the spices, oils, soaps, dried herbs, and the colorful powders are for dyeing fabric.

Morocco totally blew me away because all the guidebooks I read and all the people warning me had me prepared for rude people, especially towards Americans and even more towards women. I was prepared to be punting men out of the way and constantly have my defenses up, but it wasn't that way at all. Moroccans are incredibly helpful, friendly, and proud of their culture, and they were especially nice to each other. We would go in shops and they would invite us to stay for tea, and they just fawned over us and made us feel very special. The worst thing that happened was some guy grabbed my arm and said "sex machine", which really just made me curious: Am I a sex machine? Is HE a sex machine? Does he HAVE a sex machine? And some men whistled and stuff, but it's nothing more than I experience everyday living in the Mission district.

And granted, we were in a very touristy area, but we saw no extreme poverty, everyone looked happy and healthy (except you would think it was a British colony, not French, because lots of people have bad teeth), and it was great to be in a country where it seems like everyone is always smiling (despite the bad teeth). Such a great break from Madrid! Everyone's so serious here. . .

Also, if you're white, Moroccans tend to automatically assume you're English, so lots of the men hollered, "Victoria and Susie! Hello, fish and chips!" which was really just funny more than anything.

There's also raw meat just hanging on hooks everywhere, with flies buzzing all around it
In the US it would violate about 800 health codes, but at least you know it's fresh!

And of course, me being the vintage freak that I am, managed to find the one antique booth in MarrakeshIt was full of vintage cameras, and God knows what else is buried under that wonderful vintage rubble.

Kamal, who worked at the hostel we were staying in, took us to the chicken market (per my request) and we got to see the entire process of chicken slaughter. Molly and I picked out a live chicken and gave him a name and a back storyAnd then we took him to the slaughter booth. The two men working in there showed me how they slit the chickens' throat to kill them, then they put them in a bucket of hot water (not exactly sure why), then the other guy cuts off the head and feet and sticks them in the de-feathering machine. Every time I got sprayed with something I told myself it was just water. It was really crazy to see a massive pile of chicken feet and heads on the floor of this booth and blood and feathers flying everywhere. I tried to explain to Kamal that Americans like to have their meat arrive in shiny, cellophane packages with no evidence that it was once a living creature, but all I got from him was a weird look.The man on the left cuts the throats, the one on the right is working the de-feathering machine. Kamal barbequed our chicken for us, it was delicious, even the heart.

We also went in a booth in the area where they make and dye all the fabric, and a fellow in there showed us the process of how they color the cloth and then he wrapped me up Muslim style:
Do I look the part?

Then he took us onto the roof and we got a great view of all the fabric drying, and of all the souks:So pretty!

So that was my trip, in a nutshell. I'm already planning my next trip to Africa, Molly said she'd come with me, and I'm going to hold her to it! I want to see more of Morocco, Algeria, and Egypt. I will return to Africa soon, enshallah! (Arabic for God willing)

My Road to Marrakesh

My dress still smells like the smoky Medina and my fingers are still stained from the spices in the tagine we feasted on, even though I have sadly returned to Madrid. Molly and I had so much fun in Marrakesh,
from the donkeys that pull carts all over the souks
to the waterfall we hiked to in the Atlas Mountains. And yes, I did it all in saddle shoes and a dress!

We arrived Saturday about 1, and it was a good thing we hired a guide to take us to our hostel, because it's a total labyrinth! When we got there, delicious Moroccan mint tea was waiting for us, yum! Even just going from the airport to the hostel, I got the immediate 'we're not in San Francisco or Madrid anymore' vibe-men and women wear long robes and all the women cover their hair, although lots of people wear western style clothes, too. Noisy motorbikes that reek like diesel are everywhere, roads, sidewalks, even driving on the shoulder, because traffic laws in Marrakesh are basically nonexistent. Every time you step into the road you are playing chicken with donkey carts, motorbikes, regular bikes, pedestrians, trucks and taxis. The beautiful Atlas mountains overlook the city:This is in a garden that's near the main square, the Jema Lefna. Molly and I ate tagine,
traditional Moroccan cuisine that is cooked in a heavy clay pot on a stove. We wandered around the Jema Lefna the first day, trying to absorb the sights, sounds, and smells of Morocco. This is why photos just don't capture this amazing place. You really have to be there to smell the donkey poo in the streets, the reek of the diesel, the spicy, smoky smell of the food being cooked in the square, the metal workers and tanneries, the sounds of the snake charmers and men enticing you to shop in their booth, the experience of nearly being run over 800 times a day. Maybe I'm not painting a very good picture, but it was fantastic, really.The busy Medina

We also went to the Balace Bahia and wandered around the beautiful gardens, and marveled at the architecture:The garden in the palace.The beautiful and intricate roof in the palace.

Also, cats are like the pigeons of Morocco, they're everywhere basking in the sun and looking for food.
Me and a Moroccan pigeon.

Our first night in the hostel was actually Nezza's (one of the girls who works in the hostel) birthday. Even though we were pooped from our plane trip and the culture shock of being in Africa, we joined the party and danced to Arabic discoteque music, taught everyone the sprinkler, and, of course, smoked tons of shesha (hookah).Smoking shisha

On Sunday me and Molly and some other people staying at the hostel got a guide named Mustapha to take us to a traditional Berber house. He showed us how they live, and how they eat
using the traditional Berber stove. Then the Berber women showed us the Moroccan tea ceremony:I hope I can recreate it! It's so good because the plate of greens on the right is all fresh mint, and the big white cone on the left is sugar. Mmmm. Then we ate a delicious Berber breakfast of fresh bread, honey, olive oil, and fresh butter before we went for our camel ride.

Riding a camel is NOT like riding a horse-it's super bumpy. And I now think camels are probably the second weirdest animal, right behind the platypus.

After camels were were supposed to drive further into the Atlas mountain to begin our hike, but there was a rockslide that consequently caused a huge traffic jam. We got out of our van to explore the situation.All the Moroccans, surveying the rockslide.

The pile up was so vast, everyone parked their cars and got out and started a drum circle and singing to pass the time while the road cleared.This is why I thought Morocco was so amazing. No one was mad or impatient, no one was yelling at each other. There were no construction workers, policemen, or ambulances. The citizens took it upon themselves to clear the road and then the men started directing traffic to clear the jam. It was excellent.

A Farewell to Analog Television and a Visitor From Scotland

Yes, as of February 17, 2009 analog television is no more. Say a few words of respect about how you will no longer have to do a dance wearing a hat of tin foil and sculpt kinetic mobiles out of old hangers that would inspire Alexander Calder just to watch the episode of Friends where Rachel and Ross break up for the 16th time. Let us turn toward the 21st century and embrace all that is digital!!!

I'm not ready. Christ, my phone doesn't even have a camera, and my boyfriend had to take pity on me and give his old iPod so I would have some music on this trip, because I only listen to records and never had a desire to jump on the Podwagon. What's next, the death of books? Don't be surprised people, podcasts are on the rise, and I'm not even sure what they are, save that they are threatening publishing companies and the tangible, beautiful, paper book.

Oh, in other 'only I care about this stuff' kind of news, Ricardo Montalban died a couple weeks ago. Who's going to watch 'The Wrath of Khan' with me to commemorate him when I get home?!?!?

Anyway, my friend Gwen came to visit me from Glasgow this past weekend! We met in Girl Scout Camp the summer going into 7th grade, so needless to say we go "way back"

Saturday we went to El Escorial, where King Philip II built his monstruous castle slash monastary in 1563. Fun Fact: Philip II was a very pious Catholic, but he died of syphilis. Interesting.

We waiting in a loooong line for a loooong time to get in, and there was only one person taking tickets. Gwen was shocked because apparently the UK is very efficient and puntual. She was also surprised by the lack of friendly customer service, since Scots are very nice folks. At least I have that to look forward to!
Here is the castle from the outside. My favorite part inside was this really cool map room that had some embarrassingly inaccurate depictions of our continents. Yay!
Yes, it was a very dreary day after all that sun that Gwen was looking forward to. Bummer.
The gardens were my favorite part, with all the blossoms and green hills.Someone got an A in hedge trimming!
All the hills reminded me of the Tolkien trilogy.

We were both starving after the Long Line Debacle, so we cheated and ate Chinese food. I loved every fricken bite of it. It was kind of funny because the owners were Chinese, but the menu was only in English and Spanish, so we were like, "Tienes 'Chow Mein?'" And I didn't know whether to say things in English, Spanish, or Mandarin, and the servers were equally confused, so it was funny.For about an hour and a half I completely forgot I was in Spain, and it was kind of nice.

On Sunday, we went to the Palcaio Real. I had already been there, but it's really cool, so I didn't mind going again. Plus, Gwen doesn't take forever in museums (thank God!), so we just saw, photo-ed, and left!

We also braced the Parque de Buen Retiro, despite the cold, and just wandered around. It's really big, so we saw a bunch of stuff I hadn't yet seen,

like the beautiful Palacio de Cristal. It reminded me of the Conservatory of Flowers in Golden Gate Park, and I just have a thing for victorian- looking glass houses, they're so rad. The lake had lots of ducks, too, so I want to go back with bread. Oh, and I've decided when I grow up I'm going to be an old man that feeds the pigeons in the park all day, serenely mumbling to myself. It's good to have goals, right?

We also paid our respects to 'El Angel Caido' or The Fallen Angel, one of the only statues in the world of Lucifer (the devil).

Hail Satan!

Then we trekked over to the museum Thyssen and cultured ourselves. I was in desperate need of a break from Jesus art, so we looked at all the modern art. There was some great Degas, Monet, Pisarro, and Cezanne. Ahhh, I love Impressionism, and the only other time I saw anything by Monet was when the travelling exhibit came to the Palace of Fine Arts in San Francisco and it was so damn crowded I couldn't enjoy myself and nearly had a panic attack. So yesterday made up for it, hooray!

Going on right now in Madrid is the Cow Parade, where hundreds of cows painted by different artists are found everywhere: streets, subway stations, and plazas. Gwen pointed out that whoever designed the cows isn't very bright because thay all have an udder AND horns. Hmmmm. Are these hermaphroditic cows? Or are they trying not to discriminate any gender?
Anyway, here's me with one of the said anatomically incorrect 'cows'.

I was really glad Gwen got to come visit me, it was like having a bit of home for a weekend, and I'm really looking forward to Edinburgh and Italy with her!

This Saturday is Morocco! I'm on the road to Marrakesh! All aboard that train!
Emily