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29 août MarrakechI have been much better about writing in my journal than here. But I write here because my good pen ran out and I only have a crappy one left. I found myself restless in Kenitra so I came to Marrakech solo understanding that I can't wait for people to wait on me. So far it is the best thing that's happened to me on this trip, despite my initial dehydration which caused me to nearly faint my first day here. The coolest thing about traveling solo, at least on a well trodden path, is that you are almost never really alone. I met a French/Canadian couple (Sebastian and Frederique) and a Moroccan man (Abd al Ghani) on the train from Kenitra to Marrakech, who were phenomenal. The receptionist at the hotel was very helpful. I just needed a lot of water, food, and time to do things at my own pace. My accomodation is a humble room literally a 2 minute walk from the Jemaa al Fna. It is absolutely amazing at when the sun goes down. You can hear the adhan from 3 different mosques. The orange juice is fantastic. Spectacular as it is, I will avoid the Jemaa late at night. Last night I walked around at my own pace, guarding my bag. It is not unsafe but I did get harrassed by guys constantly following me talking to me in French or English. Then while I was watching some beautiful music people behind me kept feeling up my back pocket. That was nerve racking. Inevitable, I suppose. Not speaking French is generally a curse here. But it does make it easier to pretend I don't understand (or don't want to) what people are saying to me. The little Moroccan Arabic I do know comes well in handy. Although it is just a few phrases, it helps me feel connected to the people in a more intimate way than French would because it is closer to their culture. This morning I was determined to get a good meal in my stomach. While waiting for the Chez Chegrouni to open I talked to a woman physician (Tania) from Germany. We had a great conversation about medicine and Marrakech. She gave me some tips on fixing my low blood pressure and dehydration. Medicine is very simple, she said. A huge percentage of people who enter the hospital ill in Germany just need an infusion of electrolytes, water and glucose. Antibiotics will often do nothing when a good portion of the time people have viral infections. Aspirin is no good as it thins out the blood and only helps for [non gastric] pain. Coffee can help. Things I already knew but it's great to hear them from a doctor. The lemon chicken tagine was phenomenal. Much better than the one I paid more for later at La Terrasse L'Alhambra. I made my way to the Museum of Marrakech. That was beautiful and I got some nice pictures. Unfortunately I happen to be cursed with a terrible sense of direction and the only way I can tell north from south is by watching the sun. So my way back meant trying to navigate a labyrinth of souqs and residential areas which were a little intimidating. Wearing a shawl on my shoulders by no means keeps nagging people at bay, but it does make me feel a little less vulnerable if not a little more respectable. I asked 3 Moroccan women (Hajja Khadija, Fatima Zahar and Sanaa) for directions to the Jemaa and they offered that I follow them since they were headed the same way. Even they had to ask for directions. When they're not hustlin, what they say about Moroccan hospitality is too true. I am only sorry that sometimes I am nervous to ask for help fearing that they may demand something in return. Where this is not an issue, I cannot emphasize how generous Moroccan people have been with their time and their words. It is very humbling for how much I have indeed needed help. If anyone has talked to my family, tell them I am doing great. 24 août solaTo tell the truth, my first 10 days abroad were not what they were cracked up to be initially. I fell the sickest I had been in a long time, so I missed out on Marrakesh with Carrie and Ally. I left them at the airport at 4 this morning Malaga time, starved of sleep and food, and direly distressed over feeling ripped off at a hotel for 40 Euros and realizing that just the travel between Morocco and Malaga tore my pockets wide open.
Now that I am by myself I feel so much more reinvigorated. Knowing that where I go and what I do is completely up to me is the wonder of traveling alone. I don´t hurt so much from the money I burned. I can absorb and appreciate my surroundings much at my own pace. I can talk to anyone, ask anything I need because I have time, and really no one seems to be in a rush. The last thing I feel is lonely.
I take stock of my assets and feel grateful for each one I have. Being able to speak another language is indispensible. Not only does it help me get around, but I don´t feel myself as outcasted in places such as Morocco where everyone speaks at least 2 languages, even though I usually don´t speak either of them except in the North. Where I don´t speak Moroccan, and am irresponsibly determined not to learn French, I´ll try to eke out Moroccan phrases from the LP book I brandish. I have a cell phone now, and I have great friends to take care of me if I get stuck.
More than anything I pray that my health holds up. I don´t know what it was that laid me out in Morocco but I hope it doesn´t come back.
If I feel gutsy and ready to take on some Moroccan talk, I might spend the night in Asilah rather than going straight back to Kenitra. Just to feel that much more in control.
15 août The longest day of my lifeThere were probably only about 4 hours of darkness before the sun started spilling red on the horizon. I will be lucky if I got even that much sleep. I have been taking small 10 minute power naps since. I am here in Malaga with 9 hours of airtime behind us, and still over 6 hours of land-water travel ahead of us. All 3 are managing well, including little Ally who is quite the trooper.
It´s hard to give a good report of Spain since most of what we have seen has been the inside of airplanes and buses.
Looks good so far, some things remind me of Colombia, like everything being in Spanish, for one, the types of cars on the street, and the way things are laid out. On the other hand, there´s definitely more of that globalized, metro feeling. Like more people are used to dealing with foreigners such as ourselves.
Now going to catch the bus to Algeciras.
Love everyone! 10 août 4 Days and CountingIt's almost 1130 p.m. Four days from now, I will be flying over the Atlantic, halfway to Spain, engaged in a Nyquil-induced dream. I am so excited. Before this, there was Costa Rica, which was a new landscape, my first time traveling solo, but with some language familiarity. Then there was Colombia, that first time there in 11 years was amazing. Now there's this - Spain, and Morocco. Completely new landscape, completely different culture, one to which I have no inherited relation as I did to those of South America... I have so much reason to be excited as I am. Are you nervous about culture clashes? Not as apprehensive as I would have been before. When I was in Colombia, I tried not to draw attention to myself. I would have my cousins speak for me when we went out. I was very self conscious about my accent, my demeanor, and how people would respond to me as an American in a "third world" country. Then on my last of last days there, this past January, I realized that people will know where I am from before I even open my mouth. There's no getting around it, and no trying to pass as someone I am not. The key, I learned, is respect for other people, their culture, and of course, yourself. People will remember you for how you treated them, not where you are from. I think once paranoia and that need to "fit in" are set aside (although not at the expense of common sense), there is so much more possibility for great experiences. |
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