Chapter 12, Page 173

postmark: 14 MAY 11

Dear Experience,

No matter how much I do not want to see you go, I know that it is time.   I didn’t know what to expect when I greeted you on that plane to Spain.  We spent most of our time in Morac.  We sure did have a well-rounded trip with many more highs then lows.  You introduced me to many new and amazing people; people from all over the place with all of their own unique personalities.   I can only reflect on our past but I hope in a future with the people you introduced me to.  Do you recall our first walk in the Medina?  We got so lost and the sun wasn’t staying up for us.  Every street seemed to be one block closer but it really didn’t matter.  Finding out that being lost is the first step in being found.  You did steal my phone and break my computer and camera.  Yet, you gave me many stories to tell.  We saw majestic views together that left us speechless in each other’s presence. We had many glasses of nus nus and a few of mint tea.  We heard protests and aircrafts roaring outside of the classroom doors.  We ate many pastries together.  I will always remember the dh doughnuts and shnick.  We dickered for goods, winning and losing.  We saw skylines of minarets.  We traveled on foot, bus, train, plane, ferry, car, grand taxi, petit taxi, and even a chair into the clouds.  We had community.   We stuffed our cheeks and stomachs.  We even made it to Italy.   We did this and more.  So, I leave you now.  Thank you again for the times.  I will now look forward.

Until then,

Kyle

Chapter 11, Page 144

For the past few weeks Meknes has gone through a city beautification movement

The king is coming to town

Moroccans are whitewashing walls similar to Tom Sawyer whitewashing fences

Bus stops have been painted

Moroccan flags have sprouted in threes

Flowers have been planted in street side arrangements

Colorful lighted designs, reminiscent of Christmas, now hang along the streets

There is an Agricultural Festival in town

avril 27 – mai 1

Chapter 10, Page 123-134

My life in the past 138 hours

-Went to the Souk

            -Saw a sea of used T-Shirts

            -Only bought Strawberries and Moroccan Crepes

-Celebrated Palm Sunday with a Poms

-Saw a Moroccan Detective

-Went into a Synagogue

            -Car racing was being played in the lounge

-Went to a Catholic Church

-Had soda and story time at the Franciscan House

-Wondered the old Jewish quarter

            -Entered the ancient synagogue

                        -Tracked down the man with the keys

                        -Found a police escort and an old lady
                         found us

-Visited a Jewish Cemetery

            -Made a wish on a Dandelion

-Had McDonalds but didn’t Supersize.  After being here so long, you would understand.

-Helped make a list of Positive observations

            Ex: They have ice at McDonalds

-Saw a Moroccan with a Bass Pro Shop Trucker Hat.  I was jealous.

-Did laundry

-Went to a Moroccan Wedding

            -Stayed for the soup

-Got Caught in the Rain

-Watched the Barcelona - Real Madrid soccer game

            -Real Madrid 1-0

-Started writing postcards and stopped

-Tried two new cafes

-Watched a movie projected on a Giant Screen in the Medina.

            -It was part of a cartoon film festival

            -Saw Les Triplettes De Belleville

            -Watched Street Kids fight = very depressing

-Traveled to Fez

-Ate a pizza that was divided into four different flavors

-Had a camel burger

-Went to a Women’s Tennis Tournament

            -Found out tennis is not very popular in Fez
            -Got special access
-Had an Arabic Quiz

-Went to the Bollywood Theatre

            -Watched 36 China Town

            -Was many in Hindi

            -Had Arabic subtitles

            -Cost 18 D’s plus a D for the seat guide adding up to a
            rough $2.43

I now sit on my fifth floor balcony perch listening to music, eating khubz, and watching the sun go down with a giant poster of the Laughing Cow cheese girl.  I have been sitting here for the past 4 hours of the 138.  It will probably grow to the past 139 hours once I finish this post.  

I have broken up these hours by trying to make sugar cookies and playing with my computer camera.  I also have played the classic game of spot the lost tourist.  The running total is one.

Besides it being nice outside, I am trying to plan one of my last free weekends in Morocco.  I have studied many top ten lists.  Most places, left, seem to be too far for such a short weekend.

In reading through Lonely Planet, I have thought of having a “Meknes Tourist Day.”  This would be done, by hitting ever place mentioned in the Meknes, Morocco section.  If I don’t do that I will be somewhere other then here.

Make that two more lost tourists.  A total of 3 lost tourists plus a baby in a stroller.

The neon Pizzeria sign has just flickered on. 

Chapter 10, Page 112

The Stomping Ground

Rome

Florence

Cinque Terre

            Monterosso al Mare

            Vernazza

            Corniglia

            Manarola

            Riomaggiore

            + Levanto

Pompeii

Sorrento

            Capri

            Ana Capri

            Positano

Naples

Rome (to bookend it)

A glimpse of the happenings in Italy.  A short list.  A list of a random 8.

1.  Got Blessed by the Pope

2.  Got stung by a Jellyfish in the Mediterranean

3.  Had a picnic above the Clouds

4.  Had a tour de pizza in Naples

5.  Saw a man stealing wishes

6.  Did the tourist thing

7.  Broke my Camera Lens. . . RIP

8.  Got stuck on an Island

Words are unable to make sense of my true feelings.  The past ten days in Italy still linger in my mind without even being able to digest a day of it.  I can say the joys have come from my new friends and freedom.  Italy was not about standing at the base of the Coliseum and looking up at its grand nature–it wasn’t about closing my eyes and seeing a time that no longer exists.  All of those historical moments were amazing and as some would say “breathtaking.”  It was about being part of something that I am still unable to comprehend.  Life can come to a point in which it seems so simple with the mundane.  The freedom within these travels have broken me away from the clutches of singularity; in Italy we were free to come and go as we deemed necessary.  

Chapter 9, Page 101

Another Couscous Friday.

With the buried treasure of dejuge, chicken

That was almost my last Moroccan meal for the next ten days

Couscous will be replaced with real pasta and it’s sauce

Mint Tea will have to take a backseat

It is time for a Moroccan Spring Break

A time ahead with the crossing of the Mediterranean

I will walk the streets of Morocco and Italy the next

I will eat gelato ontop of pasta

That is how Italian I am going to be

Chapter 8, Page 93

 Fes.  A city of tanneries, the hat, and 1,012,000 people. 

We visited a pottery workshop.

The local Medina postman


A man passed out mint leaves to help lessen the stench from below.

Above and below is the largest tannery is Fes.

Take a large pit and add

 lime

pigeon feces

some secret ingredients  

and you have the perfect concoction to soften leather

The leather is tanned in some strange colors that I am sure a no cow would want to represent.

I was almost more amazed by the number of satellite dishes painting the roofs then the pigeon and dyeing pits below. 

 

For lunch we walked down some dark alley to a place called Clock Café. The place was very touristy.  They spoke English or I magically translated their French or Darija so fast it sounded like English.  I split two burgers, one being lamb and the other camel.  I might mention, even though I don’t have a picture to prove it, the burger patties were actually big.  In most places the burger paddy size is something similar or thinner to a McDonald’s paddy.  Even if one orders a double the size will still be a little less then a typical “American” standard.  Anyway, the Camel was very good.  It didn’t taste gamey, wasn’t dry, and had good flavor.  I would recommend it.  I even found a place in Meknes that has a Camel Tagine.  Pretty awesome, I know. 

------------

On a complete side note:  It has been very cold, cloudy, and rainy in Meknes these days. Take a look for yourself.  

The top of the picture should be blue.
Rivers are forming on either side of the street.
Gasoline raindows are being pulled down to the city below.
Strange things are happening.

Chapter 7, Page 87

There is a new café down below our neighboring apartment complex.  It just opened yesterday.  Many snazzy elites seemed to partake in its celebration.  Flashes were seen echoing the café with its glass walls.  A Moroccan style rug paved the entranceway like the red carpet.  Velvet ropes marked the entrance without keeping people out.  There is a new café down below us that can be seen from our balcony.  La Tulipe, a café next door, may not be so pleased with this new arrival in their hood.  I wonder how honorable La Tulipe’s customers will be.  I hope not to see a limping flower or unwanted flickering of their neon tulip light.  Maybe they are friendly cousins, from the same family, like Red Lobster and Olive Garden.  Maybe they are trying to rule this hood together.  There is a new café down below us with more included then just a café.  This café attempts to grab patrons from multiple angles.  This is true because it takes up the majority of the bottom floor of the apartment building but also because of their many options.  The café has a restaurant, patisserie, café, glace, and probably more, like friendly non-English speaking service.  I say that in a good way.  I hope they have good café and mint tea.  I hope they have good pastries.  Oh, I love pastries.  I could be a regular.  The place almost seems to close to be a regular, though.  No morning walk to my regular spot, if that makes any sense.  There is a new café down below and its name is Promenade Palace.

Chapter 6, Page 83

The Prophets Birthday consisted of masses of people, trance dancing, three pop-up fairgrounds, and no school.  

When getting on one of these fairground rides there are no lines but there is a first come first serve mentality, meaning whoever has the best aggressive cohesion skills rides next.  This all went on for three days with the rides still spinning.  

What does one do when life gives him or her five days off school?

Go to Chefchaouen, of course.  The name Chefchaouen may not be familiar but the images of city walls of blue may strike some recollection.

We took a 3 to some hour bus ride making random stops and pick-ups along the way.  Filled the bus tires and saw an emphatic gestural argument outside that was settled with a few Dhs.  

We arrived to the city of blue meeting a women from Croatia and a man tempting us to stay at his “hotel”, which never seemed to be tempting.  The streets carry the pigments of blue as one feels like an aquatic water breather traveling through streets like streams.  Everything seemed so relaxing and easy going.  Call me a sap for blue walls, small streets, good company, and new people.  Our hotel was amazing with free breakfast and quant accommodations.  There was no warm water but who really needs that when they already have more then they need. We had a Spaniard man’s head as our fireplace, mustache and all.  

The next day we stumbled upon Croatia and went on an adventurous van ride to the mountains.  This ride consisted of a homemade Best of Bob Marley CD and many questions.  Along the mountain hike there was a small café like business made from mud and stone selling the café essentials, minus pastries.  Those events of that day were nothing that could have ever been planned but what happens when one just wants to “do it live.”  

The trip back to Meknes had all sorts of confusion with no one really knowing what was going on, including the Moroccans.  The night before we went to the bus station finding that not a soul knew when what busses would arrive or even if a bus would arrive.  There was also the looming possibility of a bus strike the next day.  We left Chefchaueen on the 20^th day of February, the day Morocco had its planned protests.  The way back was us occupying a bus, a 40 minute Grand Taxi ride, and a train.  Between were quick steps and a lot of luck, if you believe in that stuff. 

Meknes is where I sit now with those times now memories.  I sit knowing that a Chefchaouen Blue beats the Pacific Blue of Crayola any day.

 

Chapter 4, Page 61

Today is the Prophets Birthday.  Happy Birthday.  Make sure to bake a seven-layer birthday cake.  Not to be picky but marble is his favorite with bubble gum flavored frosting. 

I saw the past as it stands today.  Volubilis. 

This is Moulay Idriss, where Islam was founded in Morocco.

We went hiking through the Atlas Mountains.   We started off by having breakfast in a Moroccan home.  

Traveling up the mountain we went between trees and patches of snow.  Along the way we came along a colony of tourist apes.  They greeted us in their native tongue as we gave them pieces of bread for their hospitality.

Chapter 5, Page 52

This blog has been a constant catch up process.  I have been in Meknes, Morocco for almost a week now.  So much has happened, so fast, it is oh so hard to keep up with it all.  I will try and stay current.

Rolling hills of green are what one sees traveling from Tangier to Meknes.  

My academic life consists of taking

Beginning Arabic 1 and 2

Peace and Conflict Resolution

Islamic Civilization and Artistic Expression

Irreconcilable Differences: Arabic Media

The classrooms are freezing.  It is fuzzy if Meknes really believes in heaters or air conditioning.  Well, we have some portable heaters in our penthouse like apartment to keep us warm.  If two of these heaters are plugged in with anything else, we wait for the power to blow.  You get used to wearing more cloths then you would expect was necessary.  Most times it is colder in doors then out.  The sunlight is more then welcome.  The shadows and sunlight live in two completely different worlds.  A passing stranger’s shadow can bring along a drastic drop in comfort.  Meknes is cold this time of the year, don’t forget it.  A warm glass of mint tea or coffee is always appreciated.

Minus Arabic all of the classes are taught in one straight shot.  I mean, the classes are not divided into two class sessions a week but one large lump usually lasting three hours plus some odd minutes.  There is a break to thaw out.  Maybe it isn’t as cold as I ramble.  I was just not prepared.  A plus is you can get a nice hot cup of Café au Lait for 3dhs at the university café.  What are these dhs?  Let me tell you. 

Ds = Dhs

Dhs = Dirhams

Dirhams = Moroccan Currency

At this exact moment

1 U.S. dollar = 8.19578081 Moroccan dirhams

I just say

1 U.S. dollar = 8 Moroccan dirhams

In the school café

1 Café au Lait plus a free sugar cube = 3Ds = Less then 40 cents

The class sizes seem to dance around 10 students each.  There are only 24 of us ISA abroad students at this Moroccan University.

Note:

I have yet to see anyone selling the Fancy Coffees one gets in the states.

Chapter 3, Page 44

We left Granada for Tangier.  We took a ferry and crossed the Straight of Gibraltar, passing the rock itself.  

The first day in Tangier looked nothing like the Morocco I had pictured in my head.  The city was much more modern then anything I expected.  The city was under construction with a large number of new hotels and high-rise buildings being born.  Though, driving into Tangier there was a beach with a roaming camel, which seemed very surreal.

Outside my hotel window

That first day ended, brining forth my image of Morocco.  I traded modern Tangier for old Tangier.  I traded city streets for narrow walkways.  I saw hallways with meat and cattle heads.  Those images make up a typical Tangier grocery isle.  We meandered around the maze of small hallways and venders to a large open white tiled room. 

 

Before even entering one knew what was to be expected.  The smell of fresh fish poured out as we entered into the masses purchasing all types of fish, shrimp, shark, stingray, and other water creatures.  A man called for our attention, showing off a large shark lying on the floor as his friend began to chop off its fins.  Many venders stood smiling and calling at us in any language they thought we might speak.  Most of the time these moments were greeted by me staring for a bit while they went on about something that seemed exciting, if I just knew what was being said.  My best response was a head nod and disjointed smile.  Most people seemed to be loving life in that large room with all of its organized chaos.

Tangier will forever be remembered for that very first cup of warm mint tea.

Chapter 2, Page 41

This is Granada, it is the past

A stream carries more then a current

Within Alhambra

Some not so SHADY street

Alhambra and below

The door only you have the key to