My mom, dad and brother came to visit Morocco during July, and they were champs. My brother has done some traveling internationally and could only stay for one week because of work commitments. My mom traveled about 30 years ago, ironically to Tangier, and my father applied for his very first passport to come on this trip. They were staying for three full weeks. This was bound to be an adventure.
Naturally, they were the last ones to deboard the plane in Marrakesh, having gotten hung up by customs forms. I was there to greet them, along with Ismail and Brahim, from both the village, who were helping out as driver and host.
Now let's take a moment with Ismail and Brahim because that's a potentially confusing situation: Ismail makes a living with his 4 x 4 (henceforth called a "cat cat" from the French translation). He keeps it remarkably well maintained and works constantly. He's a reliable friend, and someone who I asked to take care for my parents, who agreed to pay him a fee for his services. Brahim, on the other hand, also a hardworking guy and reliable friend, was not being paid, but joined us on the trip to offer help and guide us to places that he knew and trusted. Also, quite frankly, he's the guy I plan to share the rest of my life with from now until we kick our respective buckets. The father of my children. That sort of thing. (He's great. You've got to meet him.) He came along to get to know the In-laws. (Did they like him?! Keep reading.)
So we left the airport and took them directly to a special place outside of the city where they were welcomed by nearly all of Brahim's brothers and plates of couscous, piled high and steaming. It was nearly midnight. So hungry from their travels and curious about this new dish, they dove into the communal plate. Even my brother Dan tried everything, who typically won't eat anything that was once growing!
Exhausted as my mom was, she asked questions of the kids – quickly realizing that the language barrier was no joke. Together we translated her questions as Brahim's teenaged niece dissolved into embarrassment and his 9-year-old nephew snickered and giggled. That sounds about normal.
The first week was a whirlwind as we whisked my family around southern Morocco, giving Dan a real tour before heading back home. We took a camel ride into the sunset in the deserts of Merzouga – a romantic place, but harsh. Splashed in the river nestled in the spectacular Tohdra Gorge. Filled up our water bottles at the springs of Goulmima. In my village, we had lunch with Brahim's family, where there was a lot of staring at one another in confusion and amazement. Dan and I set out one night to attend a real Berber wedding…which ended up being a bunch of folks hanging out in a dry riverbed. (That one I can't explain.) And we did a lot of laughing and chatting together.
[Doh! In my draft, I gave up this post for a more Bohemian-poet-and the sands of time attempt. Thats annoying. Guess you'll have to read the next post, and call my mom to get the full Young Family Power Point Presention!]
8.25.2009 Watching the Dunes
The dunes outside of Merzouga, at Erg Chebbi, are stunning, really. They appear surprisingly after a long trek through tarmac-like terrain. Turn the A/C onto full power, still the car windows are hot to the touch. We come to Auberge du Sud, this fortress in the sand. The afternoon is beginning to turn in as the tourists arrive with their guides. The desert boys welcome us home.
For me, it feels like home. I love the friendly crowd. The Moroccan guys serve hot mint tea and carrying baggage for travelers from all over the world. We wander into the dunes to share the sunset together, and this is the best time for dancing, exploring; sliding, drawing. Every mark and stroke soon wiped way by the winds.
Or we take a camel trek as the sun begins to dip. I'm surprised how clumsy these giants are, supposedly intended for this terrain. I marvel at their long eyelashes and hold on tight, for the dismount comes quickly and I'm far from the ground!
If only we could collect that sunset like we collect the sand in our shoes and our pockets. I know some days the wind blows harshly here, erasing the sky and scratching our faces; but today is calm and the sunset paints the sky. We've taken off our shoes and are relaxed; laughing and writing our names in Arabic script in the sand.
Later, we return back for a delicious dinner of eggplant pepper salad, beef with soaked figs, and baked chicken with rice, followed by a heaping plate of ripe watermelon. On this visit, we are exhausted, but smartly situated exactly where my family had come so far to see. We were here together, in this strange and wonderful place.
There have been other times I have visited this same place. Once I chatted with a young woman from Barcelona, and a couple from Sweden, as the sounds of the tom toms resonated into the night. The first time, I came only to meet this man I had become curious about. I pretended to have a different name and to have come from a different place. I dodged the travelers and intended to remain elusive in this courtship. Instead betwixt rondevous with this lovely guy, I sat with the cleaning ladies as they washed the sheets and prepared the limismn, the buttery flat Moroccan bread. So much for any hint of mysterious allure…
The uniqueness of the landscape in its remoteness and harsh tranquility lures and creates this space where people are open to share. We swap languages and stories while drinking bottles and bottles of water and Coke, watching out for scorpions, slowing down to keep pace with the winds.
For me, it feels like home. I love the friendly crowd. The Moroccan guys serve hot mint tea and carrying baggage for travelers from all over the world. We wander into the dunes to share the sunset together, and this is the best time for dancing, exploring; sliding, drawing. Every mark and stroke soon wiped way by the winds.
Or we take a camel trek as the sun begins to dip. I'm surprised how clumsy these giants are, supposedly intended for this terrain. I marvel at their long eyelashes and hold on tight, for the dismount comes quickly and I'm far from the ground!
If only we could collect that sunset like we collect the sand in our shoes and our pockets. I know some days the wind blows harshly here, erasing the sky and scratching our faces; but today is calm and the sunset paints the sky. We've taken off our shoes and are relaxed; laughing and writing our names in Arabic script in the sand.
Later, we return back for a delicious dinner of eggplant pepper salad, beef with soaked figs, and baked chicken with rice, followed by a heaping plate of ripe watermelon. On this visit, we are exhausted, but smartly situated exactly where my family had come so far to see. We were here together, in this strange and wonderful place.
There have been other times I have visited this same place. Once I chatted with a young woman from Barcelona, and a couple from Sweden, as the sounds of the tom toms resonated into the night. The first time, I came only to meet this man I had become curious about. I pretended to have a different name and to have come from a different place. I dodged the travelers and intended to remain elusive in this courtship. Instead betwixt rondevous with this lovely guy, I sat with the cleaning ladies as they washed the sheets and prepared the limismn, the buttery flat Moroccan bread. So much for any hint of mysterious allure…
The uniqueness of the landscape in its remoteness and harsh tranquility lures and creates this space where people are open to share. We swap languages and stories while drinking bottles and bottles of water and Coke, watching out for scorpions, slowing down to keep pace with the winds.
8.25.09 For the Overly Integrated Volunteer...
For the overly integrated Peace Corps Volunteer, here are some friendly bits of wisdom for hosting visitors from the Home of the Brave.:
* No one likes flies. They are pesky and gross and will be noticed in spite of delicious food and incredible landscapes.
* Having a driver is remarkable, despite the comments from your male guests who would drive faster and better. There's so much we didn't have to worry about because we had someone to maintain the vehicle and who knew where to stop to buy gas, milk, etc.
* We all have our comforts that we cling to in foreign environments. Examples of this include Orange Fanta and swimming pools.
* My guests were somehow conned into saying "Bonjour" and "Merci." Don't let this happen to you. Perhaps educate them on the fact that this is a country of Arabic and Amazigh people. Remind your guests that they are English-speaking Americans. Choose one of the languages in this range to converse in.
* Public toilets are disgusting. Often stopping by the side of the road is a more pleasant alternative.
* It's possible to vacation here and ride on a "Western" surface. It's up to your visitor how far below the surface they want to go. As PCVs, we've gotten ourselves in pretty deep, but its important to remember that there are many things different about this place and America, even if you are still eating with forks and using Western toilets. Each can submerge themselves at their own pace.
* Tipping and saying "Thank you" is important. (And prices do vary with manners.)
* Be prepared for a million questions. And you know more than you realize.
* Camels are cool. And dangerous. Hang out tight for the dismount.
* Its wise not to rush into it, but by and large, the tap water here is fine. Perhaps better than consuming so much bottled water, only to leave the empty bottles behind. Recommend to your guests that they bring some of those Britta water bottle filters.
* There are all of these projects that we should be doing, and you'll talk about them with your guests. There are all of these efforts that we could be making…and if we just Google a little, or talk to these people, surely you can get these projects off the ground. Then your guests leave, and you are reminded that the nearest Cyber Cafe is 25 km away and that you don't actually have the technical language to explain to that person that idea you had. But you're still doing okay. In fact, you're doing great.
* They are impressed by what you're doing. I guarantee. Whether your guests are family or friends, world travelers or first timers, they're going to think that what you're doing as a Peace Corps Volunteer is really neat, and that you should just keep doing what you're doing.
* I'll tell you, it's tough after they leave. Even if they do bring Doritos and the good shampoo, but it sure is great that they came!
*Enjoy!
* No one likes flies. They are pesky and gross and will be noticed in spite of delicious food and incredible landscapes.
* Having a driver is remarkable, despite the comments from your male guests who would drive faster and better. There's so much we didn't have to worry about because we had someone to maintain the vehicle and who knew where to stop to buy gas, milk, etc.
* My guests were somehow conned into saying "Bonjour" and "Merci." Don't let this happen to you. Perhaps educate them on the fact that this is a country of Arabic and Amazigh people. Remind your guests that they are English-speaking Americans. Choose one of the languages in this range to converse in.
* Public toilets are disgusting. Often stopping by the side of the road is a more pleasant alternative.
* It's possible to vacation here and ride on a "Western" surface. It's up to your visitor how far below the surface they want to go. As PCVs, we've gotten ourselves in pretty deep, but its important to remember that there are many things different about this place and America, even if you are still eating with forks and using Western toilets. Each can submerge themselves at their own pace.
* Tipping and saying "Thank you" is important. (And prices do vary with manners.)
* Be prepared for a million questions. And you know more than you realize.
* Camels are cool. And dangerous. Hang out tight for the dismount.
* Its wise not to rush into it, but by and large, the tap water here is fine. Perhaps better than consuming so much bottled water, only to leave the empty bottles behind. Recommend to your guests that they bring some of those Britta water bottle filters.
* There are all of these projects that we should be doing, and you'll talk about them with your guests. There are all of these efforts that we could be making…and if we just Google a little, or talk to these people, surely you can get these projects off the ground. Then your guests leave, and you are reminded that the nearest Cyber Cafe is 25 km away and that you don't actually have the technical language to explain to that person that idea you had. But you're still doing okay. In fact, you're doing great.
* They are impressed by what you're doing. I guarantee. Whether your guests are family or friends, world travelers or first timers, they're going to think that what you're doing as a Peace Corps Volunteer is really neat, and that you should just keep doing what you're doing.
* I'll tell you, it's tough after they leave. Even if they do bring Doritos and the good shampoo, but it sure is great that they came!
*Enjoy!
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