Disclaimer: I am fine, so there's no need to fret. I was sick this past week but I have recovered! And there's absolutely no way of knowing, MOM, if Africa is what made me sick or if I was going to be sick anyway, or if it was Sevilla (which is probably was). More about that later.
So. Africa. Here's a recap of my trip to Morocco last weekend!
At approx 3 am on Friday morning, a group of 10 of us (8 ISU students and a kid from OK and a girl from Canada who, poor darlings, are here on crappy programs) got on a bus for the beginning of a 8ish hour ride to Algeciras, a port city. We were supposed to arrive well before 11 (the boats left at 11 and 1) but we didn't end up arriving until about 10:53, at which time the ten of us ran to the boat ticket office to buy the ferry tickets. Very short on time, we didn't realize there would be a bunch of companies there, so we frantically tried to figure out which was the one we had looked at. All the people were yelling at us, and most of us had to use the restroom and felt gross and groggy after the long ride and we were all very confused. Finally, Tasia picked one in which the employees were yelling especially loudly and they prodded us to give them all of our passports so they could get us tickets. It was very stressful and confusing, and they kept yelling at us to move quickly. From there, we ran aimlessly in search of the boat station, which was curiously empty. The lady who traded in our boat tickets for boarding passes was in no hurry, and calmly pointed us in a random direction, to which we ran into a dead end. After much confusion, we determined that the boat was delayed, and we needed to wait.
Once on the boat, we waited in line forevaaa to get our passport stamped by the police and then we were off!
That's Spain back there!
And that's Morocco up there! Yes, that is Arabic writing on the mountain, but our taxi driver didn't know enough Spanish to be able to tell us what it means.
This is what it looked like when we arrived.
We thought we must be in the wrong place, because this certainly wasn't Tangier. One of the girls had mapquested it and said that our hotel should be a 10 minute walk from the port. After going through a million rounds of really lax security (still harder than getting into Spain) and changing our Euros into Dirhams, we asked the security guy if we could walk to our hotel from there and he burst out laughing! He told us that Tanger was 52 kilometers away and we needed to take a taxi! This we weren't prepared for, but we did as we were told and split the 10 of us into two taxis with a guy in each of them.
There are no rules of the road in Morocco, and we were flying down back mountain roads for just under an hour...with some of the most beautiful views I have seen. Christina's arm was wrapped tight around mine in the back seat, and she described it as "an indescribable beauty that swallows you up and makes you feel like you never want to leave." We were in awe.
We were too busy taking it in (and panicking about the driving) to take many pictures, but here's one.
We arrived safe and sound at the hotel
and got ready to explore the town, as we had less than 24 hours there! And thus began the adventure...
So we start walking around, pretty darn aimlessly and decently hungry, knowing only that there is a big market area somewhere at which we would like to end up. We're getting constantly yelled at and pulled at, sworn at and chided, but we manage to to make it to what seems to be the downtown area where we go off to a side street to regroup and discuss what we'd like to do for lunch. There, a young man tells us that we have turned the opposite way from the market and he'll show us where it is. He seems less insistent than the others who have bothered us, so some of us begin to follow him, when he tells us that his father has a shop and he wants to show it to us. We're tired and lost and confused and highly skeptical, but as some of the group starts to follow him, the rest follow suit, more concerned about being separated than being misled. The man tells us much useful information about the market and prayer times and we arrive at a restaurant.
At the restaurant of his father, we are treated like royalty, and given the most wonderful authentic Moroccan meal, brought out in courses:
Moroccan pan
Moroccan Soup
Pastry filled with chicken, peaches, almonds, cinnamon, something else covered in powdered sugar over lettuce--it was SO good. Possibly the best thing I've eaten in Europe.
Classic Moroccan couscous with garbanzos, vegetables, and chicken skewers
Mint tea
Yummy honey and almond pastry
Then his daughters came down and gave us henna tattoos
This is the ten of us with the owner (the man in the middle) and the guy next to me was our guide for the rest of the day.
Yes, you read that right-the rest of the day. No, we didn't realize it at the time.
So that guy and the guy taking the picture, who was the one who got us in the first place, took us first sightseeing.
Communal kitchens where anyone can bake bread
So that was cool. Then all of a sudden we are in a spice shop/herb pharmacy and they are ushering us up a back staircase. Having no idea where we are and everything having gone fine thus far, no one thinks twice about this sketchy situation and we all head up, happily chatting about the sights we've seen and not really realizing what we're doing.
Before we know it, a bonafide Moroccan pharmacist is giving us a full lesson on Moroccan herbs and spices, complete with demonstrations and samples. This is at least 45 minutes of bewilderment and intrigue. At one point, we've been listening to him talk for awhile, when suddenly, he has grabbed my nose and is making me inhale a bag full of herbs-don't worry, it was eucalyptus for the sinuses, and it really worked-I bought some at the end.
So that was cool and weird at the same time. Then we mysteriously arrive at a rug store. We enter laughing and scoffing, saying of course we're not going to buy a rug, no matter how awesome the presentation is! Three people in our group bought rugs.
So that happened. After that, they took us to the market. We were pretty tired, and most of us had already spent money on the spices and the rugs, but we were looking forward to buying little trinkets and leather things, which my host parents had told us about. The guides were good about making sure no one was left behind and I got a cute little stone turtle and elephant (apparently giraffes are not Moroccan and they weren't sold) and a cute leather backpack.
After we had made it through the market, we were exhausted from our day and hungry but we weren't sure what to do. We turned toward our guide, when all of a sudden, three big guys in leather jackets grabbed him. At first, most of us thought that they were just his friends, so we continued to follow him. Then, we realized that he was definitely being taken away. We weren't sure if he was being arrested or kidnapped, but either way, we wanted nothing to do with it.
We quickly regrouped the ten of us and we suddenly realized that it was dark and no one had any idea where we were or how to get back. I have never felt so panicked. I grabbed the arm of one of the guys who was with us and told him he couldn't let go of me until we were back at the hotel.
We all took a deep breath and knew we had to get back to the hotel. One of the native speakers with us asked a lady how to get back and she pointed us in one direction, but before we could start to go that way, our guide returned, and told us not to worry, that everything was fine, and that he would take us back to our hotel.
However, at this point we were very skeptical and very ready to be rid of our guides, who we knew would ask for money as soon as we separated from them, despite that we hadn't ever asked for their help. Some people started to follow him in the opposite direction from that which the lady had told us to go, but others lagged behind, very wary of staying with our guide and concerned that we were going the wrong way. One of the girls in our group stopped and declared that she wanted to eat at the restaurant next to us right.then, in order to get everyone to stop, and an awkward 5 minutes ensued of us getting rid of our guides and reluctantly paying them for our time with us. We then went in the direction the woman had told us and soon found ourselves back at the hotel. Relieved and exhausted, we ate our sandwiches that our parents had made us outside and turned in for an early night.
The next morning, we had a lovely continental breakfast at our hotel
From there, we returned to the market, where people had more specific plans for their purchases. For some reason we were much less harassed the second day. We also went to the food market, which is cool. We even got to see a snake charmer, which was fine, from verrrrrrryy far away.
Afterward, we went to the beach, where there was a windstorm, and a camel.
One kid rode it
It was beautiful and a lovely way to end our stay in Tangier.
But the adventure doesn't end there! After getting the taxi to the boat's bus station (yes, you read that right), we realized that not only did the boat that we thought left at 4 leave at 4:30, but that Tangier is in a different time zone than Spain, and therefore, the chance of us making our bus back to Cáceres was slim.
The boat was 2 hours late, so there was no way we were making our bus, but the views were gorgeous, and there was a craaazy wind from the front deck!
It was fun. Upon arrival in Algeciras, the bus lady was able to help us buy autocar tickets to Sevilla (that left 15 minutes after we arrived in Algeciras-no one had any money left and they wouldn't take credit cards, but that's a whole other story), from where we could catch a bus to Cáceres in the morning. In Sevilla, we walked around for a half hour looking for the other bus station from which we could catch our other bus. We stopped at McDonalds for dinner (our first meal in over 10 hours) and I ate the best McDonalds cheeseburger and sundae of my life with 2 borrowed Euros.
When we got to the bus station around 1:45am, we were confronted with two policemen who refused to let us in. They told us the bus station was closed until 4:30am and we couldn't go in until then. Freezing, exhausted, completely broke, and wearing grungy over-worn clothes, we huddled together on the marble floor outside the bus station, trying to sleep as much as we could until 4:30. It was miserable, and when 4:30 arrived, we went inside only to discover that it wasn't any warmer in there.
We made it back to Cáceres around 11 am, and I had never been so happy to be "home."
All in all, it was a grand adventure! One I'll certainly not soon forget.
So I was sick this week, but I'm feeling much better today, and I'm ready for our day trip to Salamanca tomorrow and to experience Las Fallas in Valencia on Monday!
Praises to God for:
-safety in Morocco
-good health
-good friends
-a loving host family
-supportive real family
-the incredible endurance of the human body
-amazing, once in a lifetime opportunities-basically every weekend!
-the security and comfort of living in Cáceres
Love and hugs to you all! Hablamos pronto :)
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