Tonight Barack Obama’s speech addressing the current issues facing the United States was broadcast on the ship. It was truly a joy to listen to the words of a president of our nation resonate on a personal level with my peers and myself. As we gathered in the Union to watch Obama’s first public address in front of all of congress, I felt for the first time a genuine sense of interest and pride in what is going on in our country.
I have a newfound love for CNN and have been trying to keep tabs on things going on at home, so I had a good foundation of information so as to understand exactly what Obama was talking about. Its funny how much more aware I’ve become of things in the U.S. since I’ve left it.
Obama spoke with humor, personality and a sense of urgency that certainly helped to answer many of my questions and quell some of my fears about where our country is headed. I am about 1/3 of the way through my trip (a thought that has become increasingly sad and scary in the past few days) and I have started to gain an appreciation for how the events in the United States have a rippling effect across the globe.
I find myself watching the news with an entirely new attitude. I’ve realized that each and every one of us is so completely blessed with even the ability to offer our help and our knowledge to those less fortunate than us. As I travel, I also realize that I am increasingly attuned to many issues in the countries we are visiting that I ignore when I’m at home, such as the poverty and homelessness on the streets where I live.
I spent an entire day on a service trip in a Township in Cape Town at an orphanage. The poverty and despair in these areas is devastating in a way that is far too overwhelming to describe on paper, and is impossible to capture in a single photograph or even a video clip. On the other hand, however, the passion and warmth of the people in the Township is equally hard to describe, for theirs is a joy that exists without the support of material objects, but stands alone as a testament to their will. I do not say this to glorify poverty, I say it to glorify the strength of the people who live in adversity but live every day with their heads held high and their hearts in a noble place. Part of me wants to talk about my experience for hours and another part wants to push it from my mind and never think about it again. I know, however, that ignoring an issue is the direct cause of ignorance. I can no longer claim ignorance, and so I can no longer ignore.
As each generation sits contemplating our problems ranging from retirement funds to college loans, I ask all of you reading this to take a look at the following message I was given to me by my professor in my International Service-Learning class. No matter where you are across the globe, I figure we can all use a little perspective:
If we could shrink the earth’s population to a village of precisely 100 people, with all the existing ratios remaining the same, there would be:
52 Asians
21 Europeans
14 from the Western Hemisphere (North and South)
8 Africans
52 Females
48 Males
70 would be non-white
30 would be white
70 would be non-Christian
30 would be Christian
89 would be heterosexual
11 would be homosexual
6 people would possess 59% of the entire world’s wealth and all 6 would be from the U.S.
80 people would live in substandard housing
70 would be unable to read
50 would suffer from mal-nutrition
1 would have a college education
1 would own a computer
If you woke up this morning with more health than illness, you are more blessed than the million who will not survive this week.
If you have never experienced the danger of battle, the loneliness of imprisonment, the agony of torture or the pangs of starvation…you are head of 500 million people in the world.
If you can attend a religious meeting of your choice without fear of harassment, arrest, torture or death…you are more blessed than 3 billion people in the world.
If you have food in the refrigerator, clothes on your back, a roof over your head and a place to sleep…you are richer than 75% of this world. If you have money in the bank, your wallet and spare change in a dish someplace…you are among the top 8% of the worlds wealthy.
If your parents are still alive and still married, you are very rare, even in the U.S. and Canada.
If you can hold someone’s hand, hug them or even touch them…you are lucky because you can offer healing touch.
If you can read this message, you are luckier than over 2 billion people in the world that cannot read at all.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Namibia 2/14-2/16
Anyone who ever said it doesn’t rain in the desert lied. I know this because rain is exactly what it did on our 3 day camping trip in Namibia. Most people may think that this would make our trip a total bust, but it was just the opposite.
Once the boat reached port in Walvis Bay, we were greeted by a children’s choir of local girls singing and dancing for us. Despite our industrial surroundings, this was by far the most welcoming port we’ve been to.
We hopped off the ship after a diplomatic briefing of the country and JacMac, Lisa Nick and I joined a group of 11 heading into the desert. Lead by our Wild Dog Safari guide Clifton and his assistant Alfeus, we headed on what we were told was a 2-3 hour drive. Apparently we were unaware of a little phenomenon called “African Time”. We stopped at scenic points along the drive seeing vast stretches of desert turn to mountains and then stopped for a picnic lunch. While stopped at a cliff for pictures of the mountain, we saw huge dark storm clouds in the distance. The desert is amazing because you can see for so far in so many directions. Because of this you could see where the rain began and ended, it was incredible. We stood around for a while talking about how fast the storm was moving until we realized it was moving in our direction.
After running back onto the safari bus the downpour began, and continued for the rest of our 8 hour drive (2-3 hours African Time) on dirt roads. There should definitely be an amusement park ride based on the experiences of driving on unpaved roads in Africa in a rainstorm. By the end of our trip, I was praying that our bus had the ability to turn into a Duck Tours boat, considering we were doing more floating than actual driving. Apparently this was the most rain that Namibia has seen in years. When we reach our campsite, most of it is under water. We try to get rooms in a nearby hotel but they are all full and flooded. At this point it’s looking like we’re sleeping on the bus. We head back to the campsite to wait out the rain and crack open the wine we bought at a supermarket before leaving port. At this point, we’re all pretty darn happy we thought to grab a little alcohol. The rain starts to slow down and Clifton and Alfeus set up to make dinner. After about 2 hours we’ve pitched tents, started a fire and cooked a delicious dinner of chicken and rice with just about every condiment you can imagine (they really like their flavors in Namibia). The rain has stopped and we’re very proud of ourselves for sticking it out.
Tired from our long day of traveling and sight seeing, everyone crawls into their tents for bed. I’m so tired at this point, but because of the rain the air is extremely heavy. Another desert lie: it gets cold at night. I woke up at about 3am in a panic because I could barely breathe. I woke up Lisa and ran outside. Being claustrophobic in a small hot tent is not a good feeling. Despite being miserable, I ran outside and Lisa and I were the only ones who got to see the stars once the clouds had cleared. Never in my life have I seen starts like these. It was totally worth the panic attack.
After a sleepless night, our 5am wake-up call was a welcome relief to escape the tents. Tired and sweaty, we piled onto the bus for our drive out into the desert in hopes of reaching the dunes before sunrise. We get to Sossusvlei, one of the most stunning areas of the Namib Desert, just before sunrise and race up the nearest tall dune. Here we sit silently and watch as the sun comes up over the vast expanse of space. Now I know why people write songs about the desert sunrise. Everything lit up to be a thousand colors; Purples, blues, reds and yellows, literally every color under the sun. Sometimes it scares me how beautiful these parts of the world are that are untouched by humans other than the imprints of our shoes. It makes me wonder what it used to look like where I live at home, before we covered it in bricks and cement. After we’d taken in the sights and spent our last peaceful moments at the top of the dune we wandered back down to the bus where Clifton and Alfeus had set up a delicious breakfast of eggs and bacon and toast with Nutella, along with some much needed coffee.
We then filled up on water and began our 4 hours desert hike. Across the open space and over the red dunes, we walked as Clifton taught us what plants we could eat to provide water if you’re lost in the desert and caught little lizards and bugs for us to inspect. Although the climb up the hot dunes was intense, we had a blast running down the unpacked sand, it looked like we were walking on the moon. On one dune we even slid down on our stomachs like penguins because the sand was so soft from the rain the night before. It was a pretty funny sight to see a bunch of us sliding full speed on our tummy’s down a sand dune. We ended our hike in an area called Deadvlei. We were all so hot and tired by this point that Jac and I took off our socks and shoes and walked through the desert mud. It was a free foot treatment and it felt great! We made our way to some open trucks that took us back to our bus and headed back to camp.
After a quick rest Clifton drove us to a canyon with a giant river running through it. It was a sight that was pretty much impossible to capture on film but it was definitely an awesome view.
When we got back to the campsite it starting to pour again right after we had all changed into our bathing suits to get in the pool and rinse off the desert dust. The wind picked up and all of a sudden our tents were blowing away. So we ran around screaming and barefoot holding down tents and tarps absolutely covered in mud. We must have been the craziest group of half-naked white kids the people who worked at the campsite had ever seen. At one point the rain was coming down so hard that it was starting to hurt, so Jac, Lisa, Nick and I huddled together on the group under a tarp. At this point we were already so filthy that we decided just to go with it. We covered ourselves in the wet sand and afterwards took some hilarious tribal photos of ourselves. It’s funny how much fun you can have with a little rain and a good attitude.
After another campfire dinner and barbeque, we had to sleep in a game room because our tents were soaked. This would have been okay, except the room was completely infested with bugs and even hotter than the tents. I spent most of the night just sitting outside and waiting for the sun to rise.
In the morning we packed up and drove to Swakupmund, the touristy area near where the ship was docked. We had lunch at a café and wandered around the open air craft market. Back to bargaining, I traded a cheap leather bracelet I bought in Morocco for a very cool small Africa tapestry that’s now hanging in my room.
Despite being dirty and tired, we ended our trip satisfied with the idea that we had seen one of the most incredible natural views the world has to offer.
Once the boat reached port in Walvis Bay, we were greeted by a children’s choir of local girls singing and dancing for us. Despite our industrial surroundings, this was by far the most welcoming port we’ve been to.
We hopped off the ship after a diplomatic briefing of the country and JacMac, Lisa Nick and I joined a group of 11 heading into the desert. Lead by our Wild Dog Safari guide Clifton and his assistant Alfeus, we headed on what we were told was a 2-3 hour drive. Apparently we were unaware of a little phenomenon called “African Time”. We stopped at scenic points along the drive seeing vast stretches of desert turn to mountains and then stopped for a picnic lunch. While stopped at a cliff for pictures of the mountain, we saw huge dark storm clouds in the distance. The desert is amazing because you can see for so far in so many directions. Because of this you could see where the rain began and ended, it was incredible. We stood around for a while talking about how fast the storm was moving until we realized it was moving in our direction.
After running back onto the safari bus the downpour began, and continued for the rest of our 8 hour drive (2-3 hours African Time) on dirt roads. There should definitely be an amusement park ride based on the experiences of driving on unpaved roads in Africa in a rainstorm. By the end of our trip, I was praying that our bus had the ability to turn into a Duck Tours boat, considering we were doing more floating than actual driving. Apparently this was the most rain that Namibia has seen in years. When we reach our campsite, most of it is under water. We try to get rooms in a nearby hotel but they are all full and flooded. At this point it’s looking like we’re sleeping on the bus. We head back to the campsite to wait out the rain and crack open the wine we bought at a supermarket before leaving port. At this point, we’re all pretty darn happy we thought to grab a little alcohol. The rain starts to slow down and Clifton and Alfeus set up to make dinner. After about 2 hours we’ve pitched tents, started a fire and cooked a delicious dinner of chicken and rice with just about every condiment you can imagine (they really like their flavors in Namibia). The rain has stopped and we’re very proud of ourselves for sticking it out.
Tired from our long day of traveling and sight seeing, everyone crawls into their tents for bed. I’m so tired at this point, but because of the rain the air is extremely heavy. Another desert lie: it gets cold at night. I woke up at about 3am in a panic because I could barely breathe. I woke up Lisa and ran outside. Being claustrophobic in a small hot tent is not a good feeling. Despite being miserable, I ran outside and Lisa and I were the only ones who got to see the stars once the clouds had cleared. Never in my life have I seen starts like these. It was totally worth the panic attack.
After a sleepless night, our 5am wake-up call was a welcome relief to escape the tents. Tired and sweaty, we piled onto the bus for our drive out into the desert in hopes of reaching the dunes before sunrise. We get to Sossusvlei, one of the most stunning areas of the Namib Desert, just before sunrise and race up the nearest tall dune. Here we sit silently and watch as the sun comes up over the vast expanse of space. Now I know why people write songs about the desert sunrise. Everything lit up to be a thousand colors; Purples, blues, reds and yellows, literally every color under the sun. Sometimes it scares me how beautiful these parts of the world are that are untouched by humans other than the imprints of our shoes. It makes me wonder what it used to look like where I live at home, before we covered it in bricks and cement. After we’d taken in the sights and spent our last peaceful moments at the top of the dune we wandered back down to the bus where Clifton and Alfeus had set up a delicious breakfast of eggs and bacon and toast with Nutella, along with some much needed coffee.
We then filled up on water and began our 4 hours desert hike. Across the open space and over the red dunes, we walked as Clifton taught us what plants we could eat to provide water if you’re lost in the desert and caught little lizards and bugs for us to inspect. Although the climb up the hot dunes was intense, we had a blast running down the unpacked sand, it looked like we were walking on the moon. On one dune we even slid down on our stomachs like penguins because the sand was so soft from the rain the night before. It was a pretty funny sight to see a bunch of us sliding full speed on our tummy’s down a sand dune. We ended our hike in an area called Deadvlei. We were all so hot and tired by this point that Jac and I took off our socks and shoes and walked through the desert mud. It was a free foot treatment and it felt great! We made our way to some open trucks that took us back to our bus and headed back to camp.
After a quick rest Clifton drove us to a canyon with a giant river running through it. It was a sight that was pretty much impossible to capture on film but it was definitely an awesome view.
When we got back to the campsite it starting to pour again right after we had all changed into our bathing suits to get in the pool and rinse off the desert dust. The wind picked up and all of a sudden our tents were blowing away. So we ran around screaming and barefoot holding down tents and tarps absolutely covered in mud. We must have been the craziest group of half-naked white kids the people who worked at the campsite had ever seen. At one point the rain was coming down so hard that it was starting to hurt, so Jac, Lisa, Nick and I huddled together on the group under a tarp. At this point we were already so filthy that we decided just to go with it. We covered ourselves in the wet sand and afterwards took some hilarious tribal photos of ourselves. It’s funny how much fun you can have with a little rain and a good attitude.
After another campfire dinner and barbeque, we had to sleep in a game room because our tents were soaked. This would have been okay, except the room was completely infested with bugs and even hotter than the tents. I spent most of the night just sitting outside and waiting for the sun to rise.
In the morning we packed up and drove to Swakupmund, the touristy area near where the ship was docked. We had lunch at a café and wandered around the open air craft market. Back to bargaining, I traded a cheap leather bracelet I bought in Morocco for a very cool small Africa tapestry that’s now hanging in my room.
Despite being dirty and tired, we ended our trip satisfied with the idea that we had seen one of the most incredible natural views the world has to offer.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Equatorial
Zero degrees Longitude- 2/10
Neptune Day. Hundreds of myths surround the day that marks a ship’s passing from one hemisphere to the other. People say that sailors in the navy are covered in fish guts and then thrown overboard. That’s not exactly how it happened on semester at sea, but it was a very different day.
They cancelled our classes but didn’t really give us any schedule ahead of time to tell us what this was all going to be about. A 7:30 am pots and pans wake up call with our cabin stewards running up and down the hallways covered in tin foil and war paint was, needless to say, and interesting way to start the day.
Everyone had breakfast and then at around 9am there was an announcement “Calling all pollywogs to the rear deck!” (To clarify: all sailors are considered “pollywogs” until they go though the rite of passage of crossing the equator and become “shellbacks”). With our captain and crew covered in paint and ridiculous outfits, almost all 700 students went through the ritual.
We were covered in a green slime, kissed a fish on the mouth, bowed to the king and jumped in the ice cold pool. It was ridiculous but so much fun. Then probably about 100 students, boys and girls shaved their heads. It was crazy. It looks like we have a bunch of oversized babies running around the ship it’s hilarious. I have a lot of respect for the people who did it, but I was not one of them. I think my ears stick out just a little too much to pull off being bald. We spent he rest of the day just hanging out in the sun (proven by my minor sunburn, its true what they say about the sun being a little tiny bit stronger near the equator) and they had a huge barbeque for us last night which was wonderful. We officially crossed the equator today at about 3:15pm. No, there is not big line that goes across the ocean, but it was pretty cool. I’m officially a shellback.
Being at sea for another 9 days is rough. I woke up this morning feeling pretty sick, I’m not really sure why, so I’ve just been resting all day. I haven’t eaten much so hopefully I’ll make it to dinner. The food on the ship is good but pretty repetitive; we have pasta and potatoes in some form at every meal and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches have made a surprise recurring role in my life at age 20. I’m really convinced that in some time warped way semester at sea is responsible for the Irish potato famine. I swear I’ve never seen so many potatoes in my whole life. They must have a whole section of the kitchen freezers dedicated to just potatoes. I’d even bet there’s someone whose job it is solely to chop the potatoes into different shapes to make us feel like we’re eating different things. When I asked one of the Jamaican waiters exactly how many potatoes we had on board, his response was “Oh we got a whole lotta potatoes mon!” I think that statement pretty much covers it.
Classes have been going well. It’s a VERY weird schedule since we have classes for 9 days in a row even on Saturdays and Sundays and then we go for another 10 days without any class at all. Because of this schedule I now have no concept of what day of the week it is. I could tell you if its an A day or a B day for classes or if we’re in port, but that’s about it. I apologize in advance for forgetting birthdays since I also struggle with the date. Hopefully that will get better. I’m finally now getting used to being on a 2400 hour time schedule. That was trickier than I thought.
Classes are going well. I had to give a speech today and I have a midterm on Thursday (which is funny because we’ve only had 6 days of that class) but hopefully all of that will go well. I really like all of my professors, its really different having them live with us. We see them at meals and around the ship. One of my teachers talked about it on the first day and said that we were more than welcome to skip class but that we shouldn’t assume that it won’t be awkward when we see them at lunch later that day. Very true statement.
I’m really excited for Namibia. We are going on a desert camping trip. We don’t know exactly what that means, but it should be a blast. The girl who is running the trip is actually in one of my classes to I trust that it will be a good experience. We are going to try to buy sandboards in port and take them with us to ride them on the dunes. It will definitely be interesting.
That’s all I’ve got as far as updates for now. I really miss all of you and hope you’re all happy and healthy wherever you are!
Sea you later!
Neptune Day. Hundreds of myths surround the day that marks a ship’s passing from one hemisphere to the other. People say that sailors in the navy are covered in fish guts and then thrown overboard. That’s not exactly how it happened on semester at sea, but it was a very different day.
They cancelled our classes but didn’t really give us any schedule ahead of time to tell us what this was all going to be about. A 7:30 am pots and pans wake up call with our cabin stewards running up and down the hallways covered in tin foil and war paint was, needless to say, and interesting way to start the day.
Everyone had breakfast and then at around 9am there was an announcement “Calling all pollywogs to the rear deck!” (To clarify: all sailors are considered “pollywogs” until they go though the rite of passage of crossing the equator and become “shellbacks”). With our captain and crew covered in paint and ridiculous outfits, almost all 700 students went through the ritual.
We were covered in a green slime, kissed a fish on the mouth, bowed to the king and jumped in the ice cold pool. It was ridiculous but so much fun. Then probably about 100 students, boys and girls shaved their heads. It was crazy. It looks like we have a bunch of oversized babies running around the ship it’s hilarious. I have a lot of respect for the people who did it, but I was not one of them. I think my ears stick out just a little too much to pull off being bald. We spent he rest of the day just hanging out in the sun (proven by my minor sunburn, its true what they say about the sun being a little tiny bit stronger near the equator) and they had a huge barbeque for us last night which was wonderful. We officially crossed the equator today at about 3:15pm. No, there is not big line that goes across the ocean, but it was pretty cool. I’m officially a shellback.
Being at sea for another 9 days is rough. I woke up this morning feeling pretty sick, I’m not really sure why, so I’ve just been resting all day. I haven’t eaten much so hopefully I’ll make it to dinner. The food on the ship is good but pretty repetitive; we have pasta and potatoes in some form at every meal and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches have made a surprise recurring role in my life at age 20. I’m really convinced that in some time warped way semester at sea is responsible for the Irish potato famine. I swear I’ve never seen so many potatoes in my whole life. They must have a whole section of the kitchen freezers dedicated to just potatoes. I’d even bet there’s someone whose job it is solely to chop the potatoes into different shapes to make us feel like we’re eating different things. When I asked one of the Jamaican waiters exactly how many potatoes we had on board, his response was “Oh we got a whole lotta potatoes mon!” I think that statement pretty much covers it.
Classes have been going well. It’s a VERY weird schedule since we have classes for 9 days in a row even on Saturdays and Sundays and then we go for another 10 days without any class at all. Because of this schedule I now have no concept of what day of the week it is. I could tell you if its an A day or a B day for classes or if we’re in port, but that’s about it. I apologize in advance for forgetting birthdays since I also struggle with the date. Hopefully that will get better. I’m finally now getting used to being on a 2400 hour time schedule. That was trickier than I thought.
Classes are going well. I had to give a speech today and I have a midterm on Thursday (which is funny because we’ve only had 6 days of that class) but hopefully all of that will go well. I really like all of my professors, its really different having them live with us. We see them at meals and around the ship. One of my teachers talked about it on the first day and said that we were more than welcome to skip class but that we shouldn’t assume that it won’t be awkward when we see them at lunch later that day. Very true statement.
I’m really excited for Namibia. We are going on a desert camping trip. We don’t know exactly what that means, but it should be a blast. The girl who is running the trip is actually in one of my classes to I trust that it will be a good experience. We are going to try to buy sandboards in port and take them with us to ride them on the dunes. It will definitely be interesting.
That’s all I’ve got as far as updates for now. I really miss all of you and hope you’re all happy and healthy wherever you are!
Sea you later!
Friday, February 6, 2009
2/11:Marrakech Express
Morocco: 2/2-2/5
Talk about culture shock.
Bienvenue a Casablanca, Morocco. Take 5 steps off the boat and let the haggling begin. Hop a train to Marrakech and 3 hours later we arrive in a city where cars, buses and trucks share the same lanes as mopeds, rickshaws and donkeys. The 6 of us (JacMac, Lisa, Nick, Chandler, Brian and myself) spend the next half an hour being led around by a group of small boys in the Doukala area searching of a place to stay (since spontaneous travel has become the theme of our little group). From the looks of the streets we think we’ll be lucky to find a place with any sort of bathroom at all. Down a tiny alley and the images of our possible lodgings become even sketchier. A knock at a large brown door and we find ourselves in what can only be described as the perfect Moroccan “Riad”. After being greeted with some of the most wonderful sweet mint tea I’ve ever tasted we explore our surroundings. A large atrium opens up around rooms draped in Moroccan décor with full working sinks, showers and toilets. For Less than $25 a night we couldn’t be happier. We settle in quickly.
After washing our faces (with our mouths closed of course) and freshening up, we hit the streets. After walking less than one block we hear the sound of children singing coming form a nearby school. With 7 years of French under my belt I’m feeling bold. We walk up the narrow stairwell of a run down building and find a welcoming little woman who ushers us in to sit with the children. We can’t take our eyes off of them. Tiny voices rise to sing the obedient Arabic verses of the Koran along with the sounds of French children’s songs. We laugh and sing and take pictures with the children. Less than half an hour in the city and we’ve made a connection.
Hungry from our travels, we leave in search of some sort of sustenance, each of us secretly worried about everything we touch, but trying not to let on about it. Distracted once again, we enter a natural herbal pharmacy and are greeted by 2 of the most enthusiastic pharmacists you could image. And the speak English! We are directed to all sit against the wall and then given a scented tour of Moroccan culture. Spices, oils and lotions. Cures for every ailment. The entire place smells of things we’ve never experienced. We’re total suckers for the performance and everyone buys a little something, but no one minds. We had so much fun with them that they lead us to a nearby restaurant where we are promised good food and good service.
The restaurant delivers. 2 ½ hours and 3 courses later, our bill totals to less than $7 each. You certainly get more bang for your buck in Morocco. After being directed to a nearby Hukkah (Shisha) bar we spend the night smoking and drinking tea in the company of the locals. The perfect way to end our first day in Marrakech.
How can we top the experiences of day 1? We plan a trip to the Medina, but as usual we are side tracked along the way. Walking into an Artisan shop, we had few expectations but to be bartered with and ripped off. We could not have been more wrong. Abdul and Yussef, the store owners, welcome us into their home in the back of the store for more of the mint tea. They dress us in traditional Saharan Berber outfits and spend the afternoon talking with us. After giving us all Moroccan names (Fatima, Aisha, Hadija, Hassan, Rashid and Mohammed) they direct us on our way to the medina, and invite us into the medina and invite us to come back for diner to learn how to cook a Moroccan meal. We gladly accept the opportunity to have a local cooking class!
After stopping to take a few pictures of Koutubia, Marrakech’s largest and most famous mosque, the medina (Jemaa el Fna) opens up before us. Snake charmers on the left and belly dancers on the right. It’s a scene right from Disney’s Aladin. We haggle our way through street vendors and into the heart of the Medina. 4 hours later we emerge bedecked in jewelry with pirated DVD’s in hand (which we find out once we’re back on the ship are dubbed over in French…at least they were cheap!).
We return to Abdul and Yussef’s place and spend the evening chopping vegetables and learning to cook traditional “Tarjine”. We talk about politics, war, religion and anything else we can think of. We end the night exhausted and speechless at our Moroccan adventure. A country we feared to enter ended up being the most welcoming place we could have hoped for. We are even offered a place to stay if we ever choose to return. We leave a note on Abdul’s door in the morning before we leave and he bikes around the streets until he finds us to say one final goodbye.
Back on the train heading for Casablanca. Now comes the entertainment. Chandler and I, bored with the scenery, go in search of our other SAS friends we met in Marrakech in another train car. We leave everything behind with our friends 4 cars back. We sit with the others playing cards and exchanging stories, passing the time. We hear an announcement for the Casablanca stop but we are instructed that this is the first of two stops, and we want the next one. We decide this makes it a good time to head back to our seats. For some reason, we can’t find them. 10 panicked minutes later, we realize we are on a train in Morocco with no passports, ID, money or cell phones. This could be a problem. During the rainy half an hour walk (we couldn’t take a taxi since we had no money) back to the ship, all we can do is laugh about the circumstances and hope our friends grabbed all of our belongings when they got off at the wrong stop without us. After somehow convincing Border Patrol to let us past the gate with no identification, we get on the ship and wait for the rest of the group. Seeing my friends and my bags has never been so exciting. Plus we made it through the entire trip without anyone getting Shista, Crypto, bed bugs or Scabies!
What a trip.
Sea you later!
Talk about culture shock.
Bienvenue a Casablanca, Morocco. Take 5 steps off the boat and let the haggling begin. Hop a train to Marrakech and 3 hours later we arrive in a city where cars, buses and trucks share the same lanes as mopeds, rickshaws and donkeys. The 6 of us (JacMac, Lisa, Nick, Chandler, Brian and myself) spend the next half an hour being led around by a group of small boys in the Doukala area searching of a place to stay (since spontaneous travel has become the theme of our little group). From the looks of the streets we think we’ll be lucky to find a place with any sort of bathroom at all. Down a tiny alley and the images of our possible lodgings become even sketchier. A knock at a large brown door and we find ourselves in what can only be described as the perfect Moroccan “Riad”. After being greeted with some of the most wonderful sweet mint tea I’ve ever tasted we explore our surroundings. A large atrium opens up around rooms draped in Moroccan décor with full working sinks, showers and toilets. For Less than $25 a night we couldn’t be happier. We settle in quickly.
After washing our faces (with our mouths closed of course) and freshening up, we hit the streets. After walking less than one block we hear the sound of children singing coming form a nearby school. With 7 years of French under my belt I’m feeling bold. We walk up the narrow stairwell of a run down building and find a welcoming little woman who ushers us in to sit with the children. We can’t take our eyes off of them. Tiny voices rise to sing the obedient Arabic verses of the Koran along with the sounds of French children’s songs. We laugh and sing and take pictures with the children. Less than half an hour in the city and we’ve made a connection.
Hungry from our travels, we leave in search of some sort of sustenance, each of us secretly worried about everything we touch, but trying not to let on about it. Distracted once again, we enter a natural herbal pharmacy and are greeted by 2 of the most enthusiastic pharmacists you could image. And the speak English! We are directed to all sit against the wall and then given a scented tour of Moroccan culture. Spices, oils and lotions. Cures for every ailment. The entire place smells of things we’ve never experienced. We’re total suckers for the performance and everyone buys a little something, but no one minds. We had so much fun with them that they lead us to a nearby restaurant where we are promised good food and good service.
The restaurant delivers. 2 ½ hours and 3 courses later, our bill totals to less than $7 each. You certainly get more bang for your buck in Morocco. After being directed to a nearby Hukkah (Shisha) bar we spend the night smoking and drinking tea in the company of the locals. The perfect way to end our first day in Marrakech.
How can we top the experiences of day 1? We plan a trip to the Medina, but as usual we are side tracked along the way. Walking into an Artisan shop, we had few expectations but to be bartered with and ripped off. We could not have been more wrong. Abdul and Yussef, the store owners, welcome us into their home in the back of the store for more of the mint tea. They dress us in traditional Saharan Berber outfits and spend the afternoon talking with us. After giving us all Moroccan names (Fatima, Aisha, Hadija, Hassan, Rashid and Mohammed) they direct us on our way to the medina, and invite us into the medina and invite us to come back for diner to learn how to cook a Moroccan meal. We gladly accept the opportunity to have a local cooking class!
After stopping to take a few pictures of Koutubia, Marrakech’s largest and most famous mosque, the medina (Jemaa el Fna) opens up before us. Snake charmers on the left and belly dancers on the right. It’s a scene right from Disney’s Aladin. We haggle our way through street vendors and into the heart of the Medina. 4 hours later we emerge bedecked in jewelry with pirated DVD’s in hand (which we find out once we’re back on the ship are dubbed over in French…at least they were cheap!).
We return to Abdul and Yussef’s place and spend the evening chopping vegetables and learning to cook traditional “Tarjine”. We talk about politics, war, religion and anything else we can think of. We end the night exhausted and speechless at our Moroccan adventure. A country we feared to enter ended up being the most welcoming place we could have hoped for. We are even offered a place to stay if we ever choose to return. We leave a note on Abdul’s door in the morning before we leave and he bikes around the streets until he finds us to say one final goodbye.
Back on the train heading for Casablanca. Now comes the entertainment. Chandler and I, bored with the scenery, go in search of our other SAS friends we met in Marrakech in another train car. We leave everything behind with our friends 4 cars back. We sit with the others playing cards and exchanging stories, passing the time. We hear an announcement for the Casablanca stop but we are instructed that this is the first of two stops, and we want the next one. We decide this makes it a good time to head back to our seats. For some reason, we can’t find them. 10 panicked minutes later, we realize we are on a train in Morocco with no passports, ID, money or cell phones. This could be a problem. During the rainy half an hour walk (we couldn’t take a taxi since we had no money) back to the ship, all we can do is laugh about the circumstances and hope our friends grabbed all of our belongings when they got off at the wrong stop without us. After somehow convincing Border Patrol to let us past the gate with no identification, we get on the ship and wait for the rest of the group. Seeing my friends and my bags has never been so exciting. Plus we made it through the entire trip without anyone getting Shista, Crypto, bed bugs or Scabies!
What a trip.
Sea you later!
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