So, the week before I left for February vacation, Bobby left. Bobby is the relatively old English Leonardo student who was living chez Maryse from November to February, and provided us with such timeless classics as "My friends wouldn't stop being my friends if I said the word 'smashing'" and "Sometimes I bum cigarettes from my clients" (it should be noted that Bobby worked with handicapped people, he was taking cigarettes from mentally handicapped people). Bobby sucked, and needless to say, we were glad to see him go. 4 people here is just too much. Maryse said she didn't like it, and would not be getting anyone after he left. I don't know if I have said it before or not, but Maryse is cheap by every definition of the word. She refuses to let us have dinner parties because it would take too much electricity and gas. She gets 100 euros a month from me and Anya to buy us breakfast, with which she buys us 50 cent boxes of store brand corn flakes, despite our asking for other things. So I guess the money was calling to crazy bones louder than the call of our own comfort, because the day I arrived home from Morocco, this was waiting for me.
I have never before taken such an instant dislike to someone. Maryse introduced me to her shortly after I arrived home from Morroco. I had been traveling the last two days. I had not had any clean clothes for almost a week. All I really wanted to do was shower, read through 2 weeks of email, and unpack. But Maryse asked "Laura, can you talk to her?" So I was like whatever, I can put off the showering for a bit longer to be hospitable to the new girl. We had been talking for a few minutes, and despite being tired and gross, I was really trying to be social. Suddenly said "Do you mind if I turn on the tele? There is a game show on that I really love" I thought to myself, wow. She is polite. But all I said was "Sure, no problem" I passed her the tv remote and started sorting through my emails. A few minutes later, she was still struggling to figure out the tv, so she asked me what was wrong with it. I said "I have no idea. I never watch the tv" So then she was like "Can you please just get up and look at it?" I gave her my "are you kidding me?" look, but I got up. Of course I had no idea, so I told her again "I don't watch the tv. I don't know" So then she rolled her eyes, and after a few more minutes, she got it to work and was lost in the world of French game shows. I used this opportunity to sneak off and shower and pretend that the new roommate did not just choose French tv over conversation with me. A day or two passed, and a problem kept plaguing Anya and me-neither of us knew her name. We started calling her "NBG", short for Nameless British Girl. Things with NBG have really just gone from bad to GRRRRRR. have never in my life met anyone so unfriendly. I would make excuses for her, but there are none. She has clearly never had a roommate before because there is no way he/she would not killed her. She has a complete inability to clean her dishes. Rather, she rinses them, leaving the majority of her cooked on food still in the pans/plates. She has the tv on CONSTANTLY, and so loud that people sitting at the kitchen table cannot talk. It does not matter if we are playing music, sitting talking, etc. She will walk in, and not even ask if we mind if she turns the tv on. She buys gigantic bags prepared food, and just throws it in the fridge. Usually it seems to land on my fragile fresh produce, like strawberries. She bought a guitar, and plays it all the time. So when we aren't listening to the tv, we are forced to listen to her "play" this cheap guitar. She never cleans her hair out of the shower, nor does she clean her toothpaste out of the sink. She never takes out the trash. She never wipes her food spills off the counter top. She leaves her books, coats, sweaters, etc laying all over the living/dining room. And yesterday she informed us that she was going to start working from home, meaning she will be home all day, every day. And here is the best part-she will be using the internet. There are 4 of us that share the internet connection, and she thinks it will be okay for her to be on it 8 hours a day, 5 days a week. Combine all this with her just completely unpleasant personality, and it just makes for a really uncool situation.
http://www.vagueeuropeenne.fr/spip.php?breve44&lang=fr (this is a good one because it has a video)
Sorry, I searched for articles in English but could not find any.
Basically, this is what happened. A group of students from J. Jaures went on a field trip to Paris last Thursday. While they were waiting at Montparnasse for the train back to Bordeaux, there was a manifestation. This is nothing new in France. I've seen so many manifestations in my 5+ months here they ALMOST are no longer interesting to me. However, this one got out of hand. The students waiting for their train got caught up in between the CRS (compagnie républicaine de sécurité, basically police officers for riots) and the protesters. The group of students got separated from each other and their teachers. 10 of the students were beaten by the CRS. They were examined by a doctor, and did not have to go to school Friday. One (male) student told me that "all of the girl students were crying on the train"
So that is what everyone was talking about at school on Friday. It is a scary and sad story. The teachers told me they were organizing a protest with the students and their families, but I don't go back to J. Jaures until Friday of this week, so I don't know anything else.
I was out running this afternoon. It was a delightfully sunny day, which has been rare the past week. So there were a lot of people running and walking along the quay. I was running along, and I was meeting two gentlemen also out running, probably in their 60s or so. One of them was wearing a pinkish red fisherman's hat. As we met, he actually took off his had and nodded at me. I don't even know why, but it completely made my day. And even now, 6 hours later I am still smiling because of that simple gesture.
SO…Morocco was awesome. I am not really even sure where to start. I was hoping I would get some idea as to the angle I wanted to take when writing this blog, but I have nothing. And I will forget precious details the longer I wait, so I am just going to go with it.
Before I go into details, here’s a rundown of my anything but relaxing vacation.
Friday, 2/13- 5:30 train to Bayonne.
2/14- took 6:30 am train from Bayonne to Irun. Then took an 8 am train from Irun to Madrid.
2/15-flew from Madrid to Casablanca.
2/16-Rabat
2/17-Rabat
2/18-Marrakesh
2/19-Marrakesh
2/20-Gorges
2/21-Sahara dunes
2/22-Fes
2/23-Fes
2/24-Fes
2/25-Meknes
2/26-Meknes
2/27-Rabat
2/28-flew back to Madrid
3/1-8 am train from Madrid to Hendaye, 2 hour wait, 4 pm train to Bordeaux, arrived back in Bordeaux at 6:30. I was welcomed home by the tram not working and had a lovely walk with my bags after traveling all day.
Umm…I love Madrid. I don’t know what it is about it, but I love it, maybe more than I love Paris. It is clean, easy Metro, could be that the weather was perfect. It also might be that when we were walking to the train station at 7:15 Sunday morning the streets were still crowded with people out from a looooong Saturday night out. Spain in general seemed very beautiful. I really hope I can spend more time there soon.
I saw a man get taken off the train in cuffs by passport control at the Spain/France border, bringing the grand total of people that I have seen get arrested to 4 in 5 months. Not too shabby.
I arrived in Morocco and got the raddest stamp ever in my passport. And yeah, judge me if you want for using the word raddest, but you know you want to use it as well. ANYWAY, it does make me chuckle, I got a new passport right before I left for France. I only have 4 stamps and a visa. They fill all of two pages. However, the man at passport control in Casablanca opened the passport to page 26, the one with the picture of the Statue of Liberty. So now her arm is tattooed in Arabic.
Just outside of the airport of Casablanca I saw slums that would make Sally Struthers cry and come calling. Hard to imagine calling that home, and thankful that I don’t have to.
I saw fields being plowed by a man and a donkey. Old school.
I had henna forced upon my hand, despite my pleas to stop. Luckily I scraped it off as soon as she was done, so it was only on there for a few hours, rather than several weeks.
I rocked so many Kasbahs that I got sick of seeing them…almost. Here are a few pictures from the Kasbah in Rabat.
Casablanca is an interesting city, one that I have no strong desire to return to. It was dirty, and Hassan II Mosque aside, there was not much to see. Hassan II is one of the few mosques that allow non Muslims to tour the inside. But sadly, we were there on the wrong day. But that might be reason enough to get me back to Casablanca, should I ever find myself in Morocco again.
I got pushed by a bum when I wouldn’t give him money. It was funny scary. There were little kids begging in every city. It was sad. At dinner in Rabat one night there was a little girl playing around the table we were eating at. I smiled at her and said salut. She smiled back at me, then went back over to where her mom was sitting. Her mom said something to her. The little girl came back over to me, smiled shyly, kissed my cheek, then ran back to her mom. I was scared she was going to ask for money. She didn’t, making it super cute.
Despite being known as one of the more liberal cities in Morocco, almost every woman in Casablanca was wearing at least a head scarf. Rabat was probably less than half, as was Marrakesh. Most of the women in Fes and Meknes were also wearing scarves. There were many cafes/restaurants that we very clearly felt unwelcomed at, especially when it was just me and 2 other girls. The weather was GORGEOUS, but I wore my coat the entire time, making it uncomfortably warm. This is a picture I took in Marrakesh.
I brought dirty to new heights. I packed enough underwear to last me the 16 days that I was gone. And that was the only clean thing that I put on daily. I brought 4 pairs of pants for 16 days. You do the math. I brought 1 towel that never seemed to dry out, probably because almost daily I shoved it (still damp) back into my suitcase among all my other dirty clothes. I ran out of socks by about the second Tuesday that I was there, meaning I wore the same pair of socks the last 5 days. However, none of this even comes close to the dirty I felt after spending the night in the desert. I showered before going to bed the Friday night before we left our hotel in the gorges. After brushing my teeth and putting on already dirty clothes, we left Saturday morning. Despite driving several hours the day before, we still had 7 hours of driving before reaching Merzouga that afternoon, and we stopped at the some pretty sketchy gas station bathrooms along the way. I learned how to use a Turkish toilet (grossest thing ever, I preferred the bathroom in the desert, which was find a place where there was no one around and do your thing).I also learned what it feels like after not showering for 36 hours, not using toilet paper for almost 24, not brushing my teeth for 36, not changing clothes for 36, then spending another 10 hours squished into a “grand taxi” with 3 other people (or possibly 4, our driver wasn’t exactly Mr. Clean) in my same hygienic state.In Fes, we finally found a hotel with room for us around 10 PM Sunday night. We were all dying for a shower and a good teeth brushing. And this is the bathroom that was in our hotel (and no, I do not mean bathroomS). Although there was a Turkish toilet in a little closet next to this bathroom, and there were no locks on the doors to either room.
A shower is a shower, but needless to say, we only stayed one night at that hotel. Bright and early the next morning, we set out to find a different hotel. Aside from the toilets and showers not being on top of each other, the one we found the next night was not much better. There were two toilets, two showers, and one sink for the hotel. The showers were gross because they did not drain. By the end of the shower, you were standing in several inches of your own (plus probably a lot of other people’s)filth. The toilets were in impossibly small little rooms. The WCs were so tiny it was impossible to get in and out without brushing against the toilet. Which would not have been so awful…EXCEPT that often times, toilet paper is not used in Morocco. Instead, many bathrooms come equipped with a water spout on the wall, a bucket under the spout, and the user’s good left hand. I will leave it up to your imagination as to what you are supposed to do but I will say that 1. It is customary in Morocco to only eat with your right hand, and 2. I didn’t use that cleaning method, ever. SO, the toilets in this hotel were always soaked with bucket water.The sink in the hallway of the hotel leaked water all over the floor. The hotel management had a towel on the floor to soak up the water. That is also the same towel they used to “clean” the toilets and showers. We only stayed there one night as well. We splurged (20 euros each, our most expensive hotel in Morocco) our last night and stayed here, which also had an amazing rooftop terrace.
One this trip, I took many trains. Here is a video I took on the train from Rabat to Marrakesh. Morocco is very very green some places.
I took a minibus from Marrakesh to Merzouga. I took a camel from Merzouga out to where we camped in the desert. Here is a camel video.
I took a grand taxi from Erfoud to Fes. Grand taxis are funny. Each city has petit taxis, which are basically like little Fiesta’s, or some such tiny crappy car. They do not go outside of the city limits. If you want to go outside city limits, you must take a grand taxi, which are always old white Mercedes.Here is our grand taxi.
Usually, grand taxis are meant to have 4 people in the backseat, and 2 plus the driver in the front seat. Considering the fact that we were all disgustingly dirty, and had to be in that car 10 hours, we opted for renting the whole thing. So it was just 3 people in the backseat and 1 plus the driver up front. We bummed a ride from an older British couple to go from Meknes to Volubilis, and we took the Moroccan bus from Volubilis back to Meknes. The Moroccan bus…I don’t even know what to say. Had we not taken the grand taxi from Erfoud to Fes, the Moroccan bus would have been our next option. After riding in the bus for 40 minutes going back to Meknes, I am happy with our decision for the grand taxi. The Moroccan bus was hot, filled with diesel fumes and had a questionable engine especially going up hills, but CHEAP. I could have used every available mode of transportation had I been given just a bit longer at this stop along our way to the night in the gorges. For 5Dh you could cross the river on a donkey.
During our rides in the minibus/grand taxi, we were on some mountain passes that made the mountain roads in Colorado seem like I80 going through Nebraska. Despite being slightly terrified by the fact we were riding in questionably maintained Moroccan cars, it was unbelievably beautiful.
Prayer calls. Lots and lots of prayer calls, from lots of different mosques, especially in Fes.
Food! Moroccan pastry, although very much the same, MIGHT be better than French pastry…might. Jury’s still out on that one. But it was darn tasty. I also drank the best OJ of my life. The rest of the time my diet consisted of tajines, couscous, beef brochette, lots of and lots of bread, delicious mint tea, dried apricots, olives (bleh), rotisserie chicken, reeeeealllllly good coffee, and one afternoon, after being fruit/veggie starved, we did break down and buy some strawberries, despite being told not to eat produce that had been washed in tap water. But we were fine, and the strawberries were SOOOO good. (stolen picture...)
And by the end of the trip I had gotten lazy and was brushing my teeth with the tap water, and never got sick.
Moroccans don’t have pets, but there were stray cats and dogs everywhere. I broke the don’t touch the strays rule a few times, especially when I found this little guy.
Ummm…that is all I can think of right now. I have a thousand and one more stories, but I guess this is getting a little long. I had an unbelievable time. Morocco is also dirt cheap, and considering that I was gone over 2 weeks, relatively speaking I did not spend that much money. That having been said, considering that I don’t make that much money, I am broke.
All of my pictures are on my Shutterfly sight, and I am going to work on labeling them this afternoon, in case you do find yourself bored at work :)
I have never before taken such an instant dislike to someone. Maryse introduced me to her shortly after I arrived home from Morroco. I had been traveling the last two days. I had not had any clean clothes for almost a week. All I really wanted to do was shower, read through 2 weeks of email, and unpack. But Maryse asked "Laura, can you talk to her?" So I was like whatever, I can put off the showering for a bit longer to be hospitable to the new girl. We had been talking for a few minutes, and despite being tired and gross, I was really trying to be social. Suddenly said "Do you mind if I turn on the tele? There is a game show on that I really love" I thought to myself, wow. She is polite. But all I said was "Sure, no problem" I passed her the tv remote and started sorting through my emails. A few minutes later, she was still struggling to figure out the tv, so she asked me what was wrong with it. I said "I have no idea. I never watch the tv" So then she was like "Can you please just get up and look at it?" I gave her my "are you kidding me?" look, but I got up. Of course I had no idea, so I told her again "I don't watch the tv. I don't know" So then she rolled her eyes, and after a few more minutes, she got it to work and was lost in the world of French game shows. I used this opportunity to sneak off and shower and pretend that the new roommate did not just choose French tv over conversation with me.
