Day 15 (02-02-09)

Now we wait. Everyone onboard is holding a collective breath to find out how much time we’ll have in Morocco and which trips will be cancelled. Time today has been passing pretty slowly. We just got our fuel and now we’re cruising towards Africa. Days like these are the reason card games were created. They help to ease the tension and the boredom that inevitable set in with an extended period of waiting.

UPDATE: My trip is still happening, with one minor change. The “Marrakech and Camel Trek”has now become “Marrakech and No Camel Trek.”With the loss of a day, the extra 8 hour drive into the desert isn’t feasible, but we’re still camping with nomads somewhere in the Sahara. But we’re getting partial refunds since a day-long activity was cancelled. Woo hoo.

Tonight there was a presentation by our chief security officer, Joe, that gave us tips about being safe in lesser-developed countries. He demonstrated how pickpockets work and actually pulled an unsuspecting student onstage and picked his pocket. About 20 minutes later in the presentation, he pulled the same kid onstage to show us how to defend ourselves against would-be attackers, and when the kid sat down, Joe had picked his pocket again. Hilarious.

We had an Open Mic night again tonight just to keep us occupied. There are a lot of great singers and musicians here, so that’s always a treat. 7:00am is the wake up time for the trip tomorrow; we’ll see how the next 3 days go.

Day 15 (02-03-09)

Today: we drive. We left the ship sometime between 8 and 9 for our minibus trip through Morocco. 3 hours to Marrakech. Rest stop. 3 hours through the High Atlas Mountains. Lunch. 2 hours to Nomad camp at the edge of the Sahara. Dinner. Dance party in Saharan oasis. That’s right. Time to backtrack.

I’ve never seen so many different types of landscapes in such a short period of time. We started in Casablanca, the nation’s largest city. A brief drive through the city revealed something that I hadn’t previously known: traffic laws in Northern Africa…mere guidelines. Our driver showed what seemed to be a blatant disregard for any other vehicle, pedestrian, donkey, stray animal, etc. But apparently that’s just the way locals drive. A four-lane road with one left turn lane can easily become a four-lane road with three left turn lanes. Painted lines on the road are only suggestions. Sidewalks are open for motorized vehicles if the traffic is bad enough. You hear approximately 16 horns honk immediately when a traffic signal becomes green because drivers have zero patience at all. It was nuts. After we left Casablanca, we drove through 3 hours of farmland before hitting Marrakech, and I was really surprised with the scenery. Famers and shepherds use most of the countryside and everything is green. Trees and grass covered the hills, and it felt more like driving through central Pennsylvania than Morocco. We’d see some of the red clay/sand/dirt every once in awhile, but not much. Until we hit city number two: Marrakech. This place seemed more like what I was expecting from Morocco, at least from a brief pass through it. Makeshift shops were set up everywhere and all of the buildings were red or orange. But more on that tomorrow. Now: The Mountains.

I had not been expecting to drive through the High Atlas Mountains. I was under the impression that the Mountains were in Western Morocco and the Sahara in Easter Morocco, and we’d move off towards the east. As it turns out, my geography was wrong, and we had to drive straight through the mountains to get to the desert. Our street wound through progressively taller hills until, out of nowhere, the snow-capped mountains appeared. The treacherous drive (our driver had a death wish, I swear) was incredible. Every other time I’ve driven through mountain passes, the driver sticks to the posted speed limit or less, because, well, there’s only a mere guardrail between the vehicle and the edge of the cliff. Imminent death seemed to be upon us as our 15-passenger van sped along the slippery-when-wet mountain road. But we made it to lunch so far ahead of the other three vans that we were able to make a stop for pictures with a nomad and his camels on the other side of the range. I may or may not have this same thought several more times during the semester, but I felt like I was on the Amazing Race. It was so much fun.

Lunch consisted of traditional Moroccan salad (which tasted like Pico de Gallo) and an omelet. Here’s something you can try at home. It’s simple, yet delicious. Take an orange slice and throw a dash of cinnamon on it. I never would have though to combine the two, but it was a really good dessert. The restaurant was attached to a fortified house that we were able to see. I call if a fortified house because that’s what it would be called in English. But you know what it’s called in Arabic? A Kasbah. That’s right. It was a Kasbah. And I bet you know what we did there. We rocked it. We rocked the Kasbah.

Two hours later, it’s 35 degrees outside and our vans were trekking through the middle of nowhere. We were on a barely-distinguishable dirt road leading us into the Sahara somewhere outside the city of Ouarzazate. Suddenly, the road opened up into a lush area with a stream, palm trees, and other foliage. We had arrived at our camp. It was a popular spot for nomads, an oasis in the desert. And in this desolate, impossible to reach area of human civilization, we had the exact type of celebration that I was expecting: A dance party. Complete with Moroccan DJ. No, I’m not lying. I couldn’t make this up. To end the night, we gathered in tents and sleeping bags and camped out on the desert floor. What did you do tonight?

Day 16 (02-04-09)

Wake up. It’s 7:15am. I crawl out of my tent and look around. Time for a realization. Wow…I’m in Africa right now. How is this even happening?

Some time is allotted for photographs and hiking through the valley before we start our drive back to Marrakech. Several hours and another death-defying drive later (this one was through the densest fog I’ve ever seen), we arrived at Marrakech for lunch. And now I’ll describe the best meal I’ve had all trip. Come with me, it’ll be fun.

Overlooking the famous Djemaa el Fna, we ate an incredible lunch. First of all, the bread in Morocco is fantastic. We started all of our meals with bread and this batch was particularly good. Following the bread was some sort of lemon salad with some kind of meat paste, and I could only manage to eat two bites of it. I’m not sure what it was, but I was not a fan. It didn’t matter though, because the main course was phenomenal: Rack of lamb with dates. The lamb was so tender it practically fell off the bone and the dates that were cooked in the broth with it added a sweetness that I wasn’t expecting. It was perfect. Mom, if you’re reading…this is a recipe you should try to find. Immediately. I’m just saying.

Before we checked into our hotel for the evening, we had several hours to wander the souks of Marrakech at our leisure. This was absolutely overwhelming. Walking through the labyrinthine passageways of the marketplace with vendors packed shoulder-to-shoulder, all trying to sell their crafts, was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Their prices, much like their traffic laws, are mere suggestions, and bartering is key. Vendors start off with a high price, hoping to trap unsuspecting tourists into buying, but if you know how to haggle, prices drop significantly. It was kind of fun trying to purchase things here because the shopkeepers speak mostly Arabic, French, or Berber, with a limited amount of English. Not only are you negotiating, but you’re doing it through a language barrier. While I did have fun here, I’m not in any hurry to return back to such a setting. The merchants could be very aggressive, often times grabbing you by the arm or the shoulder to try and lead you into their areas. One man in particular called us “American Terrorists”and “Bush Babies”while miming our beheading with a machete from his shop as nearby merchants laughed. It was enough to make us uneasy, regardless of how serious he was. I can laugh about it now, but when that machete touched my shoulder, any sense of comfort and confidence I had gained in the market vanished.

When we were done with the vendors, we checked out the main plaza. It was here that we saw the stereotypical Moroccan performers that I had been expecting. Men carrying monkeys on their shoulders offered to take photographs with tourists. Snake charmers played their instruments while cobras swayed at their feet. It was great.

We had dinner at the Moroccan version of Medieval Times, but it was a complete joke. The food was great; I typically don’t like couscous but this was delicious. The horse show on the other hand…not so good. It was probably the least Moroccan thing we could have experienced. The performers looked miserable and they were wearing obvious costumes. The soundtrack for the show included Darth Vader’s entrance music, the Back to the Future theme, and I Will Survive. And whatever story they were trying to tell was completely lost on us. It was rough. Tomorrow is our last day in Morocco before we have another 8 or 9 days at sea before Namibia. I don’t have much free time, but I’ll try to make the most of it. Goodnight from Marrakech!

Day 17 (02-05-09)

Boring day today. Woke up and had the best orange juice of my life. 100% positive I’ve never had orange juice that good. Freshly made from the oranges that are growing all over Morocco. Tasty. A couple more hours of souvenir shopping followed before our return to Casablanca and entry back onto the ship. We’re all dead tired and swapping stories about our different Moroccan adventures. The best part of the day came when the ship left the dock. We had to turn around in order to get out of the port, and this means that all of our stuff was going to go flying again, as sharp turns don’t go over very well when the ship’s stabilizers are off. So, for this occasion, about 35 of us went to the main reception area of the ship and sat on the smooth tile floor. Several others went up to the balcony to take photos and videos of the event, but they definitely didn’t have as much fun as we did. When the boat started rocking, so did we. All of us slid across the tile floor with the motion, and it got pretty out of control. Some of the waves were really big, and all of us ended up piled on top of each other as we careened into the reception desk. Call it a bonding experience. It was certainly an interesting way to get close to people. Also, after these big waves knocked us around, I went to check out the damage in my room, and it was worse than before. One of my closet doors was ripped completely off of its hinges and was lying on the floor. The phone was thrown across the room; both chairs were on their sides. My bed, which is normally attached to the wall, was in the center of the room. Clothing was everywhere. It was nuts. Other people had their TVs come off the shelving units and land somewhere in their rooms. Plates in the dining halls shattered. Everything in the bookstores that wasn’t taped down was strewn along the floor. Craziness. But now, my Moroccan quest is over, and I must return to the unfortunate reality of schoolwork tomorrow. 9 days until Namibia. 4 days until I’m bald. Goodnight for now.