Anne's Photos:

Moulay Idriss

Setti Fadma, Ourika

Ourika

Genevieve's Photos:

Essaouira Camel Train

Hassan II Mosque, Casablanca

Volubilis

Taesoo's Photos:

Panorama of Moulay Idriss

Da, Genevive, Taseoo, and Kevin - camel caravan in Essaouira

The Group inside Hassan II Mosque

Hassan II Mosque exterior

Sarinda's Photos:

kempie et wendy devant Café Clock

my favorite post office (Volubilis)

Wendy sarinda Fès homestay fatima zhara et sa maman

almost all of us at Établissement El Araki in Marrakech

Christina and Sarinda

Sarinda and guide

Escargot at Djemaa el Fna!

--Alex

Genevieve, Anne, Kevin and Taesoo in traditional garments

The dancers and musicians getting started

We are now in Essaouira and about to visit the fresh fish market!

--Alex

(We just drove past a man biking along with a milk crate full of 5 palm trees. I have great appreciation for the various means of transport we've seen here. Bikes and small carts, donkeys and tri-pod motorcycles... so far my favorite personal transportation scenes are donkeys with loads of hay (or mint!) wider than the donkey is long, the man atop, bobbing side to side as his donkey moves forward. It's almost peaceful watching them advance at their steady but slow pace.)

Walking back to the douar after a hike/climb to the first (of seven) waterfall at Sitti Fadma, I asked our local guide Mohammed what his favorite moroccan meal is. Framed by the gracious appreciation that seems to be such a pillar of Islam, his response was typical. Perhaps I should have predicted it.
“Le repas que j'ai devant moi.” / The meal that I have in front of me, he said. “Any meal that is served to me is a meal for which I am grateful and which I will enjoy with whoever shares it.”

We've come to Morocco with little to no depth of experience with Islam; perhaps we've done some reading or have Muslim acquaintances. But through conversations with so many welcoming, generous, peaceful and warm Moroccans, everyone in our group has come to acknowledge the appeal of this religion. I listened to Mohammed's thoughtful explanation of sharing a favorite meal and formulated my question another way so as to get to a preferred menu...

--Sarinda

By Anne Applebaum
Tuesday, June 30, 2009

RABAT -- If you want an antidote to the photographs of police officers beating demonstrators and girls dying on the streets of the Iranian capital, take a drive through the streets of the Moroccan capital. You might see demonstrators, but not under attack: On the day I visited, a group of people politely waving signs stood outside the parliament. You might see girls, but they will not be sniper targets, and they will not all look like their Iranian counterparts: Though there is clearly a fashion for long, flowing headscarves and blue jeans, many women would not look out of place in New York or Paris.

Welcome to the kingdom of Morocco, a place which, in the light of the past two week's events in Iran, merits a few minutes of reflection. Unlike Turkey, Morocco is not a secular state: The king claims direct descent from the prophet Mohammed. Nor does Morocco aspire to be European: Though French is still the language of business and higher education, the country is linguistically and culturally part of the Arabic-speaking world. But unlike most of its Arab neighbors, the country has over the past decade undergone a slow but profound transformation from traditional monarchy to constitutional monarchy, acquiring along the way real political parties, a relatively free press, new political leaders -- the mayor of Marrakesh is a 33-year-old woman -- and a set of family laws that strive to be compatible both with sharia and international conventions on human rights.

So what do we feel about Marrakech?
KX: it's cooler, the weather is more pleasant than in Fes. The roads are more spacious even though we have to jump to the side to avoid being hit by speeding motorcycles!
SPW: Pedestrians certainly don't have the right of way. I do miss seeing donkeys (and the donkey 'trash truck' passing each day in Fes Medina.) But we learned quickly to walk in a line, listen for the quick series of beeps, whistles, honks or shouts of “balek!” which means “attention!” in French or “watch out” in English I guess.
KX: I really like the square Jamaa el Fna. Lots of cafes, petits magasins, performing artists (snake charmers, story tellers, dancers, traditional Berber musicians) Most important is the food! There must be like 100 restaurants there. And the orange juice which you can find nowhere else in the world. Oh...don't forget the gelati... I haven't had such a taste since my last summer in the Amalfi coast.
SPW: The bees like the gelati too. Each morning we share our jam and honey with them, too. Copious Moroccan breakfasts (homemade bread in our homestays, tea, a variety of crepes, honey, confitures, cafe au lait, brioches, baguette, pistachio/banana yogurt, hard-boiled eggs when we're in hotels...) start us off well. Happily, while breakfast isn't so new to us, (most of) our digestive systems are agreeing with all these vetetable and chicken or beef tagines, couscous, beef and chicken brochettes, pastillas (chicken or pigeon and almonds in a flaky pastry dusted with cinnamon and powdered sugar – I admit to having ordered chicken rather than pigeon!
So we've already had one person decide he'll come back here for his honeymoon. (Christina just came by our bench and says she will, too.) It IS a romantic city in many ways: sitting inside a riad like Gita's listening to a gentle fountain, coexisting peacefully with so many other people in this city and then hearing the calls to prayer, we feel the harmony of busy activity and more spiritual introspection.
OK - Kevin's feeling left out: I'll pass back to him with a question: Kevin, what are three things that have surprised you in Marrakech?
KX: Well, it's not easy to pick up only three things... Anyway, I would say they are the well-preserved Riads, the incredible food, and the friendly people. Through the Riads, we've learned a lot about traditional Moroccan architecture as well as the Islam cultures. Personally, I've always loved eating and just one thing, you've got to try the fresh juices here. Bargaining is a kind of art here.
SPW: OUI! What's the secret, Kevin, in your mind?
KX: You need to make friends with the shopkeeper, which is actually not that difficult. You start with “Salam Alikum” (President Obama used the same way in his Cairo speech), and tell them a little bit about yourself. As Kempie told us earlier, very few things in Morocco have a fixed price. So, we must be very patient in haggling down the prices. I always tell them “Je suis un etudiant et Je n'ai pas d'argent,” hoping they will give a “special” price for me. Sometimes you even need to pretend that you can't afford the price they asked and walk out of the shop, slowly. Then they'll probably drag you back and agree to the price you've offered if they can accept it.
SPW: Time is up, and we're off to Ourika (the high Atlas mountains) so I want to just add something about waking up in Morocco. For the past two days I've wondered if the 4 am call to prayer has even happened. This morning I finally heard it, loud and crisp projecting from the minaret just next to our hotel. It's a nice snooze button – three more hours to slumber until the roosters begin to wake me. The other day I asked everyone how they were waking up each day. Genevieve's response wins the prize: “Well, I set my alarm each day for 7 but there's a donkey outside my homestay front door, so he gets me going by 6:30.”

I love/miss my Mummy, Daddy, and tibbies very much. Hope all is well!

Love,
Anne

P.S. Anne is feeling much better now and according to her, she is back to her normal self! Alhamdoulilah!

We are all finding it surprisingly difficult to write down what we are living, except perhaps in a private journal, which a number of us are keeping. Right now I am alone in one of the main sitting rooms of Gita Sellman's Riad. I hear the fan, the beautiful and constant song of birds, a few voices from below, and the now familiar and wonderful aroma of Moroccan cooking is making its way up to me. I am torn between launching myself into a run-down of everything we have done – just today – and going downstairs to settle into Gita's library, which is a feast unto itself. In fact, I think that I am going to do the latter. I want to share that I think that many of us are simultaneously more stimulated and more reflective than we are accustomed to being in our everyday lives. The two experiences are a bit difficult to reconcile, because they draw our energies in different directions. We will be processing for weeks, months, and some of us possibly years to come, so apologies to those friends and family who have been looking for the instant gratification blog entries that we naively promised pre-departure. Many pictures will soon be available, and the images may well speak better than our words. Like others, I miss friends and family, but am feeling incredibly blessed. Hum dullah.

Before arriving in her homestay, Lauren was expecting an intimate experience with a traditional Moroccan family of 5, speaking purely French. Little did she know she would be spending 5 nights in a multi-cultural bed and breakfast consisting of a Spanish couple, a French couple, and two other American students! In addition, of course, to the family members themselves and 50 of their closest friends – I guess you can never deny the impeccable Moroccan hospitality.

Walking through the streets of Fes, Lauren was quickly offered 5,000 camels for her hand in marriage! We were all quite impressed with this offer until Emmy received a bid for the whole desert!!! Too bad they both refused – think of all the money their parents could have made.

After arriving in Marrakech, shopping for our friends and family was a top priority. Lauren caught sight of “a lustrous bangle” and we hurried over to the stand to inspect. The man started out at a ridiculous price – 450DH! Lauren bargained it down to a mere 200DH, and insisted on being shown a test to prove that the metal was real silver. The vendor promptly produced a dagger and began sawing at the bracelet, leaving no mark: we were convinced. About 10 minutes later, in a second jewelry store, Lauren tried to buy a silver ring, and cited the price of her bracelet as a bargaining tool. Unfortunately, the seller quickly showed the bangle to be a fraud; it wasn't really silver!

Despite periods of discomfort while pulling through colds and stomach aches, it is clear that both Emmy and Lauren are experiencing a culture unlike they have ever seen before, and enjoying every minute of it!

Lauren & Emmy

The group is not staying exactly in this setting, but to provide some perspective, this is a typical summer scene in the High Atlas Mountains (the highest in North Africa--with Morocco laying claim to the highest peak, Mount Toubkal, at 13,671 feet):

--Alex

So we are in Marrakesh! Marrkesh is also known as the rose city for its roses, and the queen city for its acceptance of the homosexual community. We are excited about and looking forward to our three days in Marrakesh!

-Alex

Our afternoons have been spent learning about restoration and preservation of the beautiful architecture and tilework of the old city of Fes, and yesterday we were able to try our hand at creating a piece of traditional Moroccan plasterwork – much harder than the skilled craftsmen make it look!

Last night, we were able to take in a concert of Issawa (drums, horns, and singing) music last night at a local cafe – and a few of us were even brave enough to dance.

Today we had a calligraphy lesson from a classically trained artist who works both in the traditional style and who has participated in fusion projects like “Calligraffiti”, tying together modern and ancient art forms.