On to Morocco

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24-28 April

I took the slow ferry across the Strait of Gibraltar on, thankfully, a sunny and calm day. The ferry now marks the 11th mode of travel for the trip, along with plane, train, bus, rickshaw, bicycle rickshaw, bicycle, motorcycle, kayak, motorboat and car.

It was pleasantly shocking to be back in the third world, specifically Tangier, Morocco. Not so pleasant as to stay here for long, so I made my way straight for the train station and rolled on to one the three Imperial cities of Morocco - Meknes.

After scrambling late on the first night to find a hotel room (stupid international agricultural forums!) I woke the next morning pleasantly surprised to find that the King of Morocco was in town to welcome me to his country! Well, he has no idea I even exist, but he was in town for two days, and what a traffic jam! Everybody was jazzed to see the king, though, and the streets were lined with onlookers, dozens of small mobile bands and of course lots of police and military.

Meknes is the most recent of the three Imperial cities ( the other two being Fes and Marrakesh); it didn't really get going until about 1680 AD when the then current Sultan (Moulay Ismail) decided to demonstrate his significance by breaking away from the established cities of Fes and Marrakesh and setting up shop just down the road from Fes. As a result there wasn't in my humble opinion too much to see here in the way of monuments, etc. - at least what is open to non-Muslims. To compensate for this I spent a lot of time at streetside cafes, eating good cheap kebabs and salads and drinking cafe au lait. Morocco continues my string of countries with outstanding cuisine, and the French influence only adds to the experience, with their own culinary contributions as well as establishing a vibrant cafe culture. So much so that I wonder if anybody other than cafe personnel actually work in Morocco, as everybody seems to be in the cafes, drinking coffee or mint tea and watching the world go by. Everybody, that is, except local women. Even though Morocco is probably the most liberal of Muslim countries, women do not frequent cafes, and especially in the few bars there are. This particular type of relaxation is strictly a male endeavor.

I wish everybody could be here to listen to me trying to speak French! It is so bad that I just wince and inwardly laugh every time I open my mouth. Not too many people outside the very touristy spots speak English and I actually get by with Spanish more than English. I also learned that the Arabic spoken in Morocco is a completely different dialect than in other parts of the Arab world, and that the average laborer in Morocco would have a difficult time conversing with someone in Jordan or Egypt. Moroccans were largely unaware of this fact until the satellite TV station Al-Jazeera started streaming into Morocco and most people had no idea what they were saying on the television! Apparently Modern Standard Arabic is more widespread these days. My Arabic, needless to say, is nonexistent- Modern Standard or Moroccan.

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