Salam Aleikum! Morocco

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Marrakech, Morocco!

Arabic Vocab:
Salam aleikum: Hello/Goodbye
Minfadlik/Afek: Please
Shokran: Thank you
Na’am: Yes
La: No
Gali: Expensive
B’saaf: Too much

Money: 10 MAD = .89 EUR
100 MAD = 8.90 EUR
810 MAD = 100 USD

Fun Fact: Morocco was the first nation, in 1777, to recognize the fledgling United States as an independent nation.


The Trip:

Morocco (Marruecos in Spanish), is one of the coolest countries I’ve ever been to! I spent three days in Marrakech, one of the nation’s three most important cities, next to Rabat and Casablanca.

Almost immediately after landing, we were taken on a walking tour of the city. (The tourist life is not for the faint of heart, that’s for sure!) We started out at the Koutioubia, a peach-colored landmark that dominates Marrakech, similar to the Statue of Liberty in New York or the Eiffel Tower in Paris. We also went to the Bahia Palace, which to me seemed practically the same as the Alhambra in Granada, and the Saadian Tombs, the original burial place of royalty. You know, run-of-the-mill sightseeing.

Then, we were taken to the souks.

Our guide led us through crowed, winding alleys (I wouldn’t call them streets), where we saw people in workshop after workshop- working leather or banging out metal to later sell as wares. Scrap pieces of material littered the ground and it was crowded and dim and loud. There was also the constant need to evade the uncountable number of motor bikes that came careening through the masses from both directions, as well as the constant cajoling and hissing from men offering to “show you around” or “help you find something.”

You’d walk by and hear “Ssss! Beauty girls! Beauty girls!” or “Oooh baby baby!” Most of these jokers only new a few choice phrases in English, like when one guy approached a girl in our group and said “Hi. Very nice. Fish and chips?” I guess we looked British. Or maybe that’s just how he picked up women. I mean, with a line like that, who could resist?

Anyway, you could find anything back there! Shoes, drums, rugs, spices, lamps, dish-ware, purses, jewelry, soccer jerseys, even things like baby turtles and chameleons (for sale, no joke). It was a smorgasbord of handicrafts and their patrons assaulting your senses!

Out in the main square, called Djemaa el Fna, it was the same overwhelming feeling of sensory overload. There were groups beating on drums and singing, men playing flutes and charming snakes, men with monkeys, cars driving by blaring their horns, the clop-clop of people passing in horse-drawn carriages, the smell of spices, cooking smoke, motorcycle exhaust, and people, people everywhere!! If the snake charmers or monkey wranglers saw you looking at them or trying to take a picture, even the slightest glance, they would run at you either brandishing a serpent or getting ready to throw a monkey on your shoulders, after which they will promptly demand money. I managed to sneak peeks out of the sides of my sunglasses, and ran away whenever anyone came near me with a snake. No thank you! La! La! (No in Arabic).

All in all, it was like nothing I’d seen before, completely different, completely exotic. The entire atmosphere exploded with vitality and excitement, with people and noises and smells in every direction.

I kind of fell in love with it.

But I don’t know if I’d have felt the same way without the comfort and security of a large group and a tour guide. Winding through the maze-like souks on my own would have been extremely intimidating!

After walking along the tangles of shops for a while, we came to an authentic, old-time pharmacy. We were led to this special room where the owner, dressed very professionally in a white lab coat, presented us with his best cooking curries, spices, lotions, potions, and perfumes. He had concoctions for dry skin, muscle aches, dandruff, headaches, hangovers- you name it and he had the remedy. It was actually a really cool experience because we got to pass around and smell all of the spices and splash ourselves with each olfactory mixture. I bought a few things to bring back as gifts to my family, because when else was I going to be in Africa right?? (Aka the excuse we used to spend money the entire trip).

Then it was back to the hotel for a deeeeelicious dinner, buffet style! In fact, we had breakfast and dinner at the hotel every night. I think that was because we weren’t trusted to get our own food. Not that we weren’t capable, but you just didn’t know if it was okay to eat or not, since the water wasn’t safe to drink. I really didn’t mind eating at the hotel, though. Like I said, buffet.

The next day, we drove three hours through the countryside to Essaouira, a port town on the coast. On the way, we passed fields and hills carpeted with wild grass, argon and olive trees, with the Atlas Mountains towering in the distance. It was an interesting contrast seeing the hot, dry land in the same view as snowy peaks. On the side of the road you might see a man riding a donkey while talking on a cell phone or shepherds putting goats in trees so people will stop and take pictures. (Not something PETA would like, but you can’t say it’s not an original way to make money).

We made a stop at cooperative of women processing argon to make oil, honey, and again a line of perfumes, lotions etc. We got to see how they processed the nuts- peeling them by hand and then mashing them with a kind of rotating mortar and pestle before adding water and squeezing the oil out- and then got to taste the different types. Yes, like the pharmacy, we were taken to this place that is specifically designed for tourists to spend money...and did I buy something? ...Yup!

Once we got to Essaouira, a guide showed us around the city. He spoke English with a British accent, but also knew French and Arabic. (Everything in Morocco is in both Arabic and French). He told us that Essaouira has much less hustle and bustle than places like Marrakech, and exits solely because of it’s fishing location. The emphasis on fishing and the prevalence of boats and trolling nets reminded me of San Sebastian, while the architecture was closer to Lisbon.

We ate lunch at a nice restaurant on the water, but had to fend off seagulls and cats from stealing our food from the table. One girl lost her roll of bread to the devilish fiends. Another lost her whole fish! The crazy thing was, after we were done eating, the waitress took our plates and flung the leftovers into the water for the birds! Not exactly the best way to prevent them from pestering customers, in my opinion.

We then had a few hours of free time where I resolved to enjoy the warm, African sun on the beach! However, as Morocco is a conservative Islamic country, it is frowned upon to wear shorts or show your shoulders. The sun felt good on my face at least...

The next day, our last day, was a free day! And what a day it was! In the morning, we RODE CAMELS! Well, actually, they are called dromedaries, because they only had one hump, but I’m just going to call them camels because I did not go all the way to Northern Africa to ride a camel substitute! Anyway, it was awesome! Way better than riding on any ole horse, I’ll tell you that much! For one thing, you are a lot higher off the ground. For another thing, it’s a camel! We had a whole caravan going as we trudged through the scruffy, dry, dirt for half an hour. The whole time I just kept thinking: I’m on a camel. In Africa. Craaazy!

Following up that adventure, we were set loose to find our own lunch (our one and only unorganized meal). About four of us went to a restaurant in the plaza (Djemma el Fna). We sat on a second story terrace and got to observe the mingling and interaction occurring below us while enjoying some steaming bowls of cous cous. Everything I ate in Morocco was so flavorful and delicious! Such a nice change of pace from unseasoned Spanish food.

After lunch, it was back into the souks for some serious haggling. In Marrakech, the first price is never the real price. A good rule of thumb is to take the initial price and offer to pay half or one-third of that. If you do a good job haggling and feel like you got a fair price, a sense of pride fills you, like “Yes! I did it!” The first couple of purchases though, I was a little apprehensive and definitely not as aggressive as I should have been. For that reason, I overpaid for those silver sandals and that bracelet. But as my money supply grew smaller, I began bargaining tooth and nail for things I really liked. Here is a sample conversation between a buyer and seller:

B: How much?
S: For you, good price
B: Okay, how much?
S: Very cheap
B: How much?!
S: 150 Dh (15 euro)
B: No! That’s way too expensive
S: Ok, 140, no problem
B: No, I can’t pay that
S: Ok. Ok. Name your price
B: 70
S: Serious price. Serious price. I cannot go less than 130
B: No. 80
S: 125
B: Too much. I can just go look somewhere else
S: Please. 120. Is a very good price
B: I’ll do 90 and that’s it
S: Just a little bit more, 110
B: I only have 90 Dirham! That’s all I have
S: Ok, 100. Special price for you
B: Sorry, 90 or nothing. I’m going to go look somewhere else
S: 100
B:90! *walking back down the street
S: *following after you: Ok ok ok, 90.

Success!

Sounds exhausting doesn’t it? It takes steely commitment to get the best price.

In addition, you’d have people yelling at you in a handful of different languages to see what you responded to.

“Bonjour madame, henna for you? 5 Dh, 5 Dh.”

“Hello? Hola? You like henna?”

“Senora? Girl? Henna 5 Dh!”

I bet even the bum on the side of the street knew more languages than I did. But I guess it’s different when you need to communicate to make a living. Americans just aren’t as exposed to a variety of other languages like Europeans. And if we do decide to learn a second language, we start learning it very late and don’t have the same accessibility to countries where different languages are spoken. That’s geography’s fault, but it makes things like studying abroad all the more important. I’m so thankful I got to experience the hectic energy of Marrakech, especially now with all the political instability occurring in nearby nations. I know there were a few people worried about my safety during my trip, but I didn’t notice any discontent or feel unwelcome in any way while there. I just enjoyed it for what it was! Shokran Morocco!

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