July travels

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It has been too hot and I have been too lethargic to do much of anything when I’m in Kelaa, especially drag myself to the internet café and post a blog. One a month seems like being an over-achiever at this point. Anyway, I have managed to escape town a few times this month.

For my Sunday/Monday weekend before the 4th of July I went with fellow volunteer Rebecca up and over the Atlas to celebrate with a group at Nada and Michael’s house in Ouarzazate. I knew it would be more than the typical PCV get together. Nada and Michael have a pool. It’s technically an inflatable kiddie pool, but anything involving water is luxury for us. For the record, it is the biggest kiddie pool I have ever seen and could easily fit ten adults. Rebecca had the bright idea to get some of the cheap straw hats that all men here wear and make 4th of July bands for them so everybody could have some shade on their head while soaking in the pool. Her town is on the road to Ouarzazate from Marrakech, so I went over to her place and we sat by the side of the road to wait for a bus. While waiting we decided to color the hat bands. In retrospect it probably wasn’t the best idea, but it was fun and we felt productive. We got out the paper and crayons and in no time had sheets covered with stars and stripes scattered around us. That’s when the locals started getting curious and came over to see what the white women were doing. They were quite suspicious of the American flags. I think our saving grace was that I had written “Ouarzazate” in Arabic script under “4th of July Pool Party.” I suppose they figured whatever we were planning at least it wouldn’t be in their town. I was set on shaving my head in an attempt to feel punk rock again and rebel against the tradition of women here having beautiful long hair that they never let anybody see. Luckily one of the volunteers there persuaded me to let him give me a real haircut. So, instead of a shaved head I ended up with the best and shortest haircut of my life.

Another fun day I had also ended up being fairly surreal. Bart, who lives about an hour away from me, invited me to go with him and some of his friends from the Dar Chebab to a river not far from his town. A friend of his from the US was visiting, so I would get to see two real, live Americans! It was almost as exciting prospect as the idea of being near water. I figured the river would be about knee high but that there would probably be some trees. The farther you get from the Atlas the more pathetic the rivers get. This late in the year most rivers have been dry for a while. Nevertheless, anything beats sitting around town on a hot day. On the way out the door in the morning I grabbed my swimsuit, though I didn’t really think I would need it. Three hours later I was staring off a bridge into a large, though sluggish and almost stagnant, river that guys were diving into from the top of the bridge supports at least 40 feet up. I knew I was in trouble. There were no women anywhere around. I thought of how roofs are women’s space and they get uncomfortable and even angry when men invade their territory. I was definitely an invader in a very male environment. But I had a dozen or so guys at my back and one girl that they had brought along to cook their lunch for them. She didn’t go swimming, but helped me find a spot to change into my suit and encouraged me out onto the bridge where I jumped as fast as I could down to Bart and his friends. Nothing was going to separate me from them for very long, least of all a few meter drop into the water. The day passed fairly uneventfully, though later in the afternoon I started feeling more and more uncomfortable with the crowd at the bridge. When I wasn’t lounging back in the trees with our group I swam down river as far as I could from the mass of staring men and yet still be within yelling distance of our little camp. It was a great day and I had a lot of fun, but I’m not sure I would go back. If I ever do go back I would make sure to take extra clothes to swim in so not one inch of my skin showed.

And now on to the highlight of July: Catherine! If you go back to my blog from last July in Tournon, France, you’ll see her there too.

She arrived on Monday and after some time in Marrakech we fled the inland heat out to beautiful, coastal Essouira. I would move there in a heartbeat. I love that town. Granted, I have fallen in love with every costal town I have visited here so far, but I really do like Essouira. It is quite touristy, which would probably be annoying living there, but was such a welcome relief to me this time that I didn’t mind at all. I got to blend in with the crowd. Nobody stared at me or treated me like prostitute and I didn’t feel like everybody was judging me all the time. I needed this vacation.

And it was so wonderful to see Catherine! She did a volunteer program in Nepal, so she can sympathize with some of my frustrations and was wonderfully understanding when I went off on griping rants. Of course, I didn’t spend the whole week complaining and we had relaxing days laying around the cafés and playing Frisbee on the beach. It’s always interesting to watch the mix on Moroccan beaches. There are conservative Moroccans in full clothes, the women wearing their head coverings, next to more liberal Moroccans in swimsuits, next to the European tourists in bikinis who look like they really want to take their tops off. I wore my swimsuit but kept my skirt and sometimes my Tshirt on too.
After Essouira we went back to Kelaa for one night so she could see where I live.

Unfortunately it was so hot and we were both so exhausted from the beach that we felt pretty sick and never bothered to leave my house the whole time she was there. I had enough food to keep us happy, though with the heat we didn’t eat much. We had plans to go to the Dar Chebab so she could see where I work, and to the post office to mail her post cards and to the hemmam since she had never seen a Moroccan bath. We didn’t do any of it. We didn’t even watch a movie. We sat around chatting, reading and taking turns soaking in the bathtub of cold water. After tourist Morocco, I showed Catherine Peace Corps Morocco. It was a short trip, but a wonderful and very happy week. I can only hope she enjoyed it half as much as I did.

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Photos

4th of July Hats
This isn't the whole crew, but since I know my students here check my blog I hesitate to put up photos with swimsuits and such.

Essouira Blue
It really is a picturesque town. All the buildings are white with blue shutters and trim, dotted with blue fishing boats.

Catherine and me
We had such a great time on the beach, basking in the cool breeze that comes off the Atlantic. The water is wonderfully cold too.

Essouira has history too!
Origionally the export point for exotic goods coming across the Sahara from Timbuktu, Essouira has all sorts of old fortress towers and cannons.

Sunset on the ramparts
The best place to watch the sunset is from the wall with the cannons. I was surprised how few foreign tourists there were the evening we went, though the place was crowded with Moroccan tourists. Everybody comes to Essouira to escape the inland heat.

Comments

[marie-pierre koban]

hi sounds like greqt time I am in france a week and half in CORSICA NOow in the south of france, hot and humide nice to see your pictures a bientot MPK