Today I got to spend the day by myself, mostly. I ended up having a very pleasant last minute surprise breakfast with Paul and Diana, two older folks who do a ton of traveling and were very fun to talk with; Paul is a Bay Area guy from Redwood City and they both used to do a lot of climbing and have a house now in Bend. Maybe someday I’ll go visit them.
I walked 16 miles today; the whole Taxi culture was a bit intimidating and I love to walk anyway so I decided I would do everything on foot. The experience made me realize that I think I’ve been unfair to Morocco, and it’s because we spent so much time way out in some very rural areas. The truth is that Marrakech is absolutely just a vibrant city with a lot going on. I walked all the way out to the suburbs so I could go to Decathlon and shop (more on that later) but on the way I passed all the standards of first-world countries, the brands and coffee shops and there’s even a Chili’s. There’s no question that parts of Morocco are very poor but I think we were intentionally doing the tourist thing of going and looking at the most rural parts. Food, for example: I’ve been mentioning that the food has been a bit dull and same-y but I realized that’s just because of where we were; in Marrakech there is every kind of food you could want and most of it was quite tasty and cosmopolitan. It made me think about what American would look like if you just went out to find rural Cajuns or rural Appalachians. In fact, in general I’ve been fascinated by the idea of trying to put together a tour like this of the Bay Area or even of just Oakland - what would you go see? What image would you try to convey?
This is apropos of nothing but I’ve been walking everywhere with my Ukraine hat on - I just like that hat - but it’s occurred to me more than once that people might think I’m from there or something, and they must be really fascinated to suddenly see a hat from Ukraine, of all places, in Morocco. I wonder what they think of that. Probably nothing, of course, but it’s interesting to think about.
One of the things I did today was visit a Hammam and get a massage. It was very illuminating to contrast that experience with the one I had a few days back up in the Atlas Mountains at the Hammam. Although there were some core similarities, overall the experience was so different and in ways that really betray that tourist/local, urban/rural divide. It reminds me of the difference between biking through Kentucky and having the church ladies make us a full country dinner with fried chicken and pies and casseroles, ….and going to KFC. I’m not saying one was better than the other, they both had strengths, but they were about as different as can be. Today’s experience was very polished; they spoke English (at least some), the place was spotless, I got to wear a white robe and use a locker, the massage was respectful and professional and perhaps most interestingly all the services - including the massage and the spray down - were performed by women, which I distinctly feel would not have been allowed or tolerated up in the mountains, where we were very much split into men and women and a wiry old man who spoke no English slapped us around for a bit. However, the mountain experience was a) way way cheaper, b) more…joyful? If that’s the right word, and c) just as relaxing and positive.
The Medina and related areas are fascinating in the way that all of Morocco was fascinating; a juxtaposition of older ways with modern times. The city almost visibly shifts from the more modern suburbs with McDonalds into a kind of medieval sea of tiny alleyways, merchants out literally hawking their wares from stands, a constant barrage of pedestrians, cyclists and people on mopeds, and the sort of panhandling and wheeling and dealing that you think of when you think of parts of the world that still use cash for everything. Like I said, a man texting from his Android phone on the back of a donkey. And the religiosity comes and goes; it’s always there, in the women covered up, in the 5 times daily call to prayer, but it waxes and wanes; in the Hammam they were very modern and professional, and when I went to the mall to go to Decathlon I could have been anywhere in the modern world. It’s very odd to see a middle aged woman dressed entirely in very traditional-looking Muslim garb, sitting and eating fried chicken at a fast food restaurant in a booth with a woman who is probably her grown daughter who is on her cell phone.
I also tried - because I felt like I was supposed to - to do the tourist thing and go look at a few architectural sites. I visited the Madrasa Ben Youssef and the Bahia Palace. They both were…cool. Interesting architecture. Very cool geometric designs. I liked Ben Youssef much better; it was like an old college to study the Koran and other topics and it had all these weird little funky student rooms for…studying? Living? Not clear. The place was a maze. But there were 5 million tourists there and it sorta ruined it for me. I think I’m just not great at being a tourist in cities and doing all the tourist-y stuff. I much prefer this Intrepid-style trip where we get out into the countryside and have experiences; I realize I’m absolutely still being a tourist and being led around by my nose but it just seems so much more real and also it’s just a lot more fun than standing in line for 30 minutes to look at the inside of an old college.
I also walked about 5 miles roundtrip to go to Decathlon. I love that place. I wish I could have bought more but I stuck to a pair of cool hiking pants, a new pair of cycling shorts and a cool belt. I miss Decathlon.
The driver came to take me to the airport at 2:45 this morning, and I was interested to see that the city was very much alive and active. For people that don’t drink much or at all, they still know how to stay up all night. A man was riding an odd contraption - I think there was a bicycle underneath there somewhere - that was literally covered with carnival balloons. I assume he was selling them but it was hard to tell. And, again - so so many scooters.
On this trip, I felt the particular weight of my privilege, and in particular the privilege I have to travel internationally. When I walk up to a customs officer, of any country, and show my passport, certainly there are moments of nervousness, and there are definitely things I could do wrong, but I’ve never gotten anything more than just a nod and a wave through. I’ve never even had to get a visa. At one point, I talked to our guide, Abdoul, about coming to American and helping us lead one of our tours. But he shook his head and smiled wryly and said the main problem was in getting a visa. So I looked into it, and while it’s possible to get a visa for tourism as a Moroccan, it isn’t easy. It costs $180 and it takes several months and you have to go to Casablanca and have an in-person interview with an immigration agent, and even then if they think you might overstay your visa they won’t allow it. The presumption is guilt, which is something I’ve never had to deal with. For sure, there are countries that aren’t crazy about letting in Americans, but there are probably 100+ countries in the world that would welcome me with open arms and that’s an enormous privilege, so basic that I think I never even thought about the reality of it. And that’s before even considering the economic and social freedoms I have to be able to afford travel and take time off from work, etc.
All in all, I’m very glad I came to Morocco. I don’t think it’s really my vibe (if that’s the right word) but I am very glad I experienced it, I enjoyed the people I traveled with, and I think that seeing a different world always gives you a better perspective on your own. Other than being physically tired, I think I will arrive back in the Bay Area with some new ideas and some fresh energy for my own life. I can’t wait to get home.
