Moseying across the Maghreb

11 days in Tunisia and Morocco with my parents was a wonderful vacation, allowing me to relax, enjoy history, the sights and new cultures, and catch up with news from home. Plus play loads of Scrabble (final score 8-4, Mom winning) and get a good dose of hugs.

We started in Tunisia where we visited Tunis, the Hammamet coastline (loving the whiff of Jasmine in the air, the national flower), Sousse with its old Medina and souks (young Tunisians were playing local music from their Motorola phone sitting atop the tower of the Rabat), El Jem and its Roman Colosseum (321 AD), Monastir and Tunisia's revolutionary Habib Bourguiba's mausoleum, Gabes and its palmeraie, the island of Jerba where a synagogue was built in Nebuchadnezzar's time and where Ulysses stopped in the Odyssey, Matmata and the troglodyte homes, Douz for a camel ride into the Sahara, Tozeur for the waterfalls and Star Wars site (plus on the way we followed part of the path used in the Paris-Dakar rally), Nefta for winding old-town streets and more palms, Roman temples at Sufe Tula, the 4th holiest site in Islam (Kairouan Mosque), and Carthage. My favorite parts were jumping into the Mediterranean with all my clothes on cause the tour hadn't scheduled beach time, eating the original "fig newton," eating olives produced by 2000 year old trees, and guides. The one at the waterfalls taught us "I love you" in Arabic and called us gazelles or gazellinas as we clambered through the rocky landscape. The one at Bourguiba's mausoleum would say "gold leaf. touch. sit take photo. upstairs, take photo. box (the tomb), 7 tons. very heavy. guard, take photo." And the one at Carthage kept saying the Phonecians would sacrifice babies (as he drew his finger across his neck) while the Romans were civilized and sacrificed animals. Pleasant.

In Morocco, we basically saw all the Imperial cities. Starting in Casablanca, though all we saw was the waves of the Atlantic crashing a shore as we got transported from the airport to the tour bus, we made our way first to Rabat, the capital. Along the rode we saw parts of the "tin towns" of Casa, the slums. Almost 2 million living there without water, sewers, and sporadic electricity. Then, in grave contrast we pull up to the King's palace, which he doesn't really use. Why can't they turn that into a university? And why can't the royal family use some of their wealth to build housing for Casa's squatters? Alas... We continued on to the late King's tomb, on a plaza where I was accosted by a woman offering Henna. She literally grabbed my arm are started squeezing out the dye!! We had no money yet (one I forgot to change my CFA into Euro or something internationally accepted and two there hadn't been time for a bank stop yet), and I couldn't pay her despite her quickly finishing my hand. It was incredibly poor, and faded quickly. Toured our first Moroccan Medina and checked into our very ornate hotel. After the capital we went onto Meknes to see the mausoleum of the first Arab sultan here. A town nearby is his holy city, non-Muslims aren't allowed to set foot in it. But five trips to the city for Muslims is equivalent to one trip to Mecca. The Roman ruins at Volubilis were the most impressive we've seen, complete with mosaics in situ. Sad part is, as soon as they were unearthed, they've begun to fade. The whole excavation was well done with reconstructed arches and lettering, and whole city streets intact. Fes ended up being my favorite. We had a great local guide who gave more personal stories at the sites. We toured the souk and the heart of the medina while stopping at local craftsman's stores: the bronze work carved with a tiny hammer and needle to achieve the detail (the craftsman we observed made the doors on the King's palace), the rug makers who charmed us with hospitality and mint tea (we found out the women making the rugs only get $0.50 an hour, but at least it is a job! One weaver even let me tie on 6 knots or so), cactus silk weavers (they spin the silk down the narrow streets and dye everything naturally), and the tannery. Wow. They use 1200 year-old practice to tan the hides. The young men working there have shorted life spans because of the limestone mixture they use to treat the skins--we actually saw a guy climb into the big tumbler to remove hides. It was interesting to see the natural dyes: green from mint, yellow from saffron, red from poppies, blue from indigo or cobalt, and black from mascara. We went out of the city a bit to see the ceramic workshop, where again young men had not-so-great working conditions drying olive pits and skins in the sun for fuel, stoking the fires which produced very black smoke, throwing and painting the pieces, and carving tiles for mosaics. We saw the Switzerland of Morocco, Ifrane, which produces the cedar wood used in traditional Andalusian architecture. Marrakech included a tour of the medina (not as impressive as the one in Fes) and an evening excursion to the plaza Djemma el-Fna, where for the price of my ONE campaign bracelet given to the vendor, Dad and I got free mint tea. Plus we saw snake charmers, dancers and performers while people-watching--it was great that at night the square was full of locals enjoying the entertainment. The Majorelle garden was beautiful. The French artist was fond of cactus and Berber wares. Our last night we were taken out to the suburbs (passing two McDonald's on the way!!) where quite frankly, Morocco embarrassed itself. Here was a show specifically tailored to tourists, and the horsemen weren't very skilled, the dancers off beat and not in line, the belly dancer not even able to belly dance, and most young participants looking completely disinterested. And the food was mass produced. At least the fruit was fresh, a fact we found to be true all over the country. Back in Casablanca I had to say goodbye to the parents again, tear! But enjoyed my day seeing the Art-deco style of the buildings and the world's 3rd largest Mosque with the world's tallest minaret built by the last King of Morocco.

We laughed at Dad trying to use his 30-yr old French (or was that 300 yr old?? Hehe. Habibi!)

Tough to readjust to a not-so-developed country and have only a little bit of home only to start my 15 month countdown to the end...