I traveled to Rabat, Morocco for five days to visit Diana, who is currently studying Multiculturalism and Human Rights at the Center for Cross Cultural Learning. On my journey there, I was forced to be on my toes because I speak neither Arabic nor French, the two major languages in Morocco. At the airport customs, an officer looked at my passport and asked me, "Are you a terrorist?" After a brief, awkward silence, as I was caught off guard and speechless, he corrected himself, "Ahem, are you tourist?" "Yes," I said nodding, feeling relieved. From the airport, I took a grand taxi (different from petite taxis which only operate within cities) to the train station. The driver told me that the ride costs 120 dirhams or about $15. Not knowing how much I should really be paying, since Morocco is a bargaining country, I hesitantly accepted. Finally and rather miraculously, I met Diana at the Rabat train station after approximately 18 hours of travel.
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| Rabat, Morocco |
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| Rabat, Morocco |
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| parliament building in the government district |
On the first night, we walked through the medina quarters, a walled portion of the city with maze-like streets and dizzying crowds, to look for my hotel. We were soon approached by a man who told us he could guide us to our destination. Since he was a decent looking fellow, spoke relatively good English, and seemed friendly and nonthreatening, we decided to follow and chat with him for a while. Then we got onto the subject of money and it was apparent that he wanted a fee for helping us. Feeling duped because he wasn't upfront and his actions weren't out of kindness or generosity, we decided it wasn't worth it. Diana told him we would be fine on our own. After making some unpleasant facial expressions and uttering some harsh sounding words, he walked away cursing under his breath. Oh well. Shortly after that incident, we found my hotel, which turned out to be closer to where we had started.
The next morning, Diana attended her classes and I went for a run along the Atlantic coast. I can now say that I have ran on four out of the seven continents in the world and in five different countries. Where I ran I didn't see many runners. The two I did come across, however, were nice and we acknowledged each other by waving. Most of the men and boys here seem to enjoy playing soccer and there were dozens of pickup games on the beaches.
Over the weekend, Diana and I took a one-day trip to Casablanca by train. The city surprised me by being more modern than I expected. I learned that it is known as the economic capital of Morocco. There were beach side restaurants and hotels that reminded me of La Jolla, CA. There were upscale shopping, nightclubs, and cafes. There was even a McDonald's. We took advantage of the venue by strolling along the beach and trying the acclaimed seafood for lunch at a beach side restaurant. The food was fantastic! Our weekend was cut short, however, due to a passport issue, where all hotels require you to physically present the number stamped into your passport when you first enter the country. Anyway, I won't get into the nitty gritty details here. Overall, we had a nice and relaxing time in Casablanca.
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| Casablanca, Morocco |
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| McDonald's |
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| Casablanca, Morocco |
Back in Rabat, we did some haggling in the medina quarters and I got to meet Diana's host family. The picture below shows the streets being relatively empty near the host father's shop, but most other places were so incredibly crowded that I was bumping into someone all the time. The host father is a friendly man. He owns a leather goods shop where he sells messenger bags, purses, wallets, etc. I ended up buying a camel leather messenger bag from him at a very good price, without having to bargain of course. Afterward, I was invited to their home for teatime. The house was lucrative for Moroccan standards and had several stories. I finally got to see Diana's room in person, which was furnished with tiled walls, a lopsided bed, a rug, and a low table. For teatime, the host mother served us bread, cheese, small cookies, fried dough (which I forget the name of, and the host father dropped it on the ground as we were walking home, eek!), coffee and mint tea.
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| medina quarters |
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Rising approximately 140 feet, only half of its intended height, is the Hassan Tower. It has been an incomplete mosque since 1195 but remains to be a popular historic site. Like all other mosques, the Hassan Tower projects the call to prayer through a loudspeaker several times a day. The call to prayer is part of the Muslim culture and sounds like a low siren that can be heard across vast distances. It is a good thing that I can sleep amidst loud noises, otherwise I would have been woken up numerous times early in the morning by the call to prayer.
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| Hassan Tower |
Close by the Hassan Tower is the Mausoleum of Mohammed V. This is where King Mohammed V and his two sons, including the late King Hassan II, are buried. The structure is modern, the interior is elaborately designed, and there were four royal guards standing watch inside, one in each corner.
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| Mausoleum of Mohammed V |
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| marble tombs |
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| tiled door |
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| stained glass ceiling |
One evening, Diana took me to a local restaurant in the medina quarters to get a genuine taste of traditional Moroccan cuisine. The restaurant, which was a house at one point in time, was elaborately decorated and furnished, and there was live Moroccan music with singing. We ordered a set course meal that included Moroccan salad, chicken tagine, couscous, small pastries, oranges sprinkled with cinnamon and sweetened dates, and mint tea. It was delicious! Sometime afterward, Diana told me she would learn how to make Moroccan salad from her host mother before coming back to the states. I am looking forward to it and will keep her accountable :P
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| Moroccan salad |
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| chicken tangine |
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| oranges with cinnamon and dates |
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| mint tea |
Despite feeling handicapped in Morocco because I don't speak the language and receiving some sour experiences here and there, I had an incredible time. Never in my life have I dreamed of going to an African country, so this was an eye-opening experience. It made me appreciate the power of language for communicating with people and functioning in society as well as the comfortable living conditions I oftentimes take for granted in the states and in Sweden. There are truly many different lifestyles in the world and by experiencing and understanding them firsthand I hope I can become a better global citizen. Thank you, Diana, for inviting me to Morocco and for opening my eyes a little wider (figuratively speaking).
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| Diana and me |
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