It's already hot here

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Be brave enough to live life creatively
Alan Alda

While my parents were skiing in McCall, Idaho I went to hot, sunny Marrakech on my day off. If I am sweating in a T-shirt in March I don’t even want to think about August. They weren’t kidding when they said it gets hot here.
Today’s bus ride to the city was a bit more exciting than usual and I blame it on the heat. Nobody is very happy to have the summer heat set in already. The rising gas prices have forced up the bus fare from 15 or 17 dirhams to 20 dirhams from Kelaa to Marrakech. One woman must have been convinced she was cheated by the guy on the bus who takes money since she spent at least the first half hour of the trip yelling at him for her 3 dirhams of change she knew she had coming to her. They stopped the bus a few times to add water to the radiator - also the first time I’ve seen that happen - and tried to throw her off each time. She was young and well dressed and I suspect she didn’t really need the three dirhams, but getting ripped off here is a serious offense. I’ve seen people argue over very small price differences. Perhaps once I adapt some more I’ll follow suit and spend a half hour haggling over a dirham - the equivalent of ten cents.
Once in town I met Catherine in Jma L’fna, where volunteers always congregate. Immediately I saw two of my students from Kelaa and Cat saw a group of hers too. There was a forum about foreign schools today and many of our students were in town to check out their opportunities for studying out of Morocco. Many Moroccan students, especially the brightest and the richest, leave to study in other countries. As a development worker it is difficult for me to see the best students leave a country which needs fresh minds. How can I help Morocco develop if all the students I teach leave? I am asked almost daily by kids at the Dar Chebab how they can get student visas to the US and other countries. I tell them that I have no idea, which is true. What gets me is that the kids with money are the ones who leave, not always the brightest. While it encourages me that some of the smart ones have to stay, I see how unfair it is for them and how much they want to go.
We eventually rounded up a total of seven volunteers (some of whom I had not seen since leaving Immouzzer in November) for lunch on a terrace overlooking Jma L’fna. We usually try to find the cheapest place with the best view. No matter where we go the food is always good, or at least a change from our own cooking. Today I had a couscous topped with caramelized onions stewed with raisins and garbanzo beans. It may have been the best couscous I have had here yet, if only for the fact that there were no sheep guts or cow head bits lurking under the onions. And it cost about US$3.
After lunch we went to “Cyber Park” which is the largest, nicest park I have yet seen in Morocco. It has an internet café (which is called a cyber here) in one corner and the rumor is that if you sit close to the cyber you can pick up a free wireless connection on your laptop. I have yet to try it, but I believe it works. There was also a large French exhibit about all the wonderful things French researchers are doing for the environment and how people in developing countries are beginning to protect it. The only draw back to Cyber Park is that you are not allowed to do anything there. Quite a few people wearing uniforms with very short ties are employed by the park to keep it pristine, which I do appreciate. Littering is almost endemic here, partly for lack of public trash cans and partly for lack of environmental education. The problem with the short ties is that they not only blow whistles at people disrespecting the park, but also for things which I do not consider detrimental to the park’s attributes - such as sitting on the grass or tossing a baseball. It’s a good thing we didn’t have a Frisbee with us, or we might have gotten thrown out. Sitting around, doing nothing is standard in a developing country with high unemployment, but enforced sitting around, doing nothing was a novel idea for me. Eventually we got tired of sitting in the shade on a bench (since the grass was off limits) and went back to the radiating heat of the streets.
The rest of the afternoon I followed Catherine and Amanda through shop after shop trying to find shirts we could wear in the heat of summer. This is no small task, as we still have to respect the modest dress code during the most stifling of heat. While I was sweating in Jma L’fna in my T-shirt there were Moroccan women walking by in full jellabas and tight head scarves. In smaller towns T-shirts are not even acceptable and I actually wore my sweater most of the day because wearing a T-shirt seems so weird. So, the hunt was on for long sleeve shirts that were breathable enough for summer and hung down far enough in back to cover our butts. I saw every imaginable color and style, but none of us found one we liked that fit in our Peace Corps budget.
One last snafu awaited me as I left the others - the busses that usually run on the hour from Marrakech north up the road through Kelaa to Fès were not running. The next one was at 8pm. I knew this would definitely be after dark and a clear break of the no traveling at night policy, so I was forced to take a grand taxi. I have come to dislike grand taxis, though they are generally much faster than the bus. Taxis are more expensive and much more crowded and you never know when it will leave. A grand taxi will only move if every seat in it is paid for - two up front and four across the back. Old Mercedes are not that roomy and I have become very picky about how I sit next to in one, considering that I will be smashed up against them for the length of the journey. Luckily the taxi I found didn’t take too long to leave since lots of other people were turned away from the bus station. The other plus was that I got to sit between the window and a young woman, who was a very respectful neighbor and smelled of rose perfume.
Getting back to town I ran into my landlords halfway from the bus station and had a nice walk with them back home, where they insisted on feeding me some cake and bread with some fresh soft cheese they had made that morning.

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Photos

The Road to Marrakech
The view from the other side of the bus has the craggy snow covered Atlas, but all the seats on that side were taken. Here's looking west.

Empty Jma L'fna
I have never seen the square so empty, but perhaps people are rebelling against the early coming of summer.

Koutoubia
This is the major landmark in Marrakech and very close to Jma L'fna. I thought I should post at least one tourist photo.

Cyber Park
The trees and fountains are a wonderful break from the baked pavement of Jma L'fna.