The party in Agadir: My first night of ISJ was spent at a
beautiful house in Agadir surrounded by nations. Morocco, France, Belgium,
America, Western (Moroccan) Sahara, Great Britain and Australia. The two other
Americans were from California. One was a Fulbright who never left and the
other a surfer. You automatically had 10 minutes of easy conversation just
trying to figure out what the heck everyone was doing there. It was a pleasant
night, nothing more, nothing less.
Taxis in Morocco: The day after the party, I met M’hmmed in
Agadir and we caught a grand taxi to Mirleft. This was my first time in a grand
taxi so I thought I’d give some background on the taxi situation in Morocco.
There are two types of taxis: grand and petite. A petite taxi has a meter and
takes one, two or three people to the destination of their choosing (they are
strict about this maximum). It’s quite fun riding in them due to the madness
that is driving in Morocco. The lane lines are essentially street art, there’s
an on-going crisis over whether cars or people have the right of way, you’ll
get shuma’d (Shuma means “shame on you” in Darija) if you reach for a seatbelt (not
that they work) and the cars have dents in the doors and rear from collisions
past. I haven’t had any issues aboard one yet so I have to give a shout out to
the drivers…really it’s impressive to witness.
Then there are the grand taxis. While a petite taxi won’t
leave the city or town it’s in, the grand taxis are used for longer distances.
They work like this:
1) Go
to the taxi station (a parking lot FILLED with white and blue and green
Mercedes Benz sedans).
2) Find
the line of taxis that travel to your intended destination.
3) Wait
until 5 other people show up to go to the same destination, which can really
take some time. It’s great to be passenger number 6 because everyone is happy
that you showed up and you don’t have to wait for others.
4) Pack
(pile, squeeze, shove) into the vehicle (4 passengers in the back, two
passengers and the driver in the front).
5) Pay
a flat rate (the seat from Agadir to Mirleft cost 60 MAD).
6) Hit
the road.
Mirleft: We arrived to midday fog and the drizzles of an
orange being peeled. We got a house on the beach ($25 a night) that was big
enough for 8. The town itself is quiet; it’s about the size of 4 square city
blocks. The tourists had dreadlocks; the Moroccans were dark from sunshine and
sandy beach. Our three days here weren’t spent in any rush. We woke up late,
moved slowly, sipped tea. I can’t say too much work got done, but everyone needs
a vacation from time to time.
Essaouira: We took a grand taxi back to Agadir and from
there, the bus to Essaouira. We arrived late but found someone who had an
apartment for rent. The city is reminiscent of Southern California: long
beaches, outdoor restaurants serving seafood and loose fitting clothes. A
failed search for alcohol turned into a taxi ride. We had to get out to watch.
A block of white we sat on the sandy pavement; fishing boats, their burning
outlines like cookie-cutters on the setting sun and a body of water in endless buckets
of salty tide. We spent two nights like this.
Marrakech: We took yet another bus from Essaouira to
Marrakech. Again we got in late at night but sure enough someone offered a
place to stay. The first night we didn’t do much but sit and eat. The second
day, I interviewed a photographer and attended a photo exhibition. We had a
vegan lunch, mad searches for English bookstores non-existent, café banana
juice always with milk. We walked through the Jemma el Fnaa square. Monkeys
danced on shoulders and so did snakes (this costs paper please, not coins).
They all wanted us and we laughed to ourselves and lived like kings.
Rabat: Our fun had to end. We must return. We took the
evening train that left late and got us in past midnight. In Rabat, I’m staying
with friends in a small house in the Oudaya. The neighborhood is beautiful and
we haven’t killed each other yet. In other news, I will see Ben Faustine and
Cassie Redlingshafer later today, it should really be wild. I’ll report back soon.
Until then.
Grange: I sense you might want to slow down, relax, take breath, soak it all in, and and enjoy the moment a bit more. A little carpe diem, ya know? NOT! "loose fitting beaches, long clothes"??? What's with that? Reentry to the USofA might be rough. Be sure Ben gets a mean camel named Bronco and enjoy the weekend.
ReplyDeleteGranger the 2nd, can I just say your comments are objectively the best? Main motivation for me reading this blog.
ReplyDeleteI would like to second that comment...I come for Granger Sr.'s comments and stay for the blog post.
ReplyDeleteAva and Jeff; You are wise beyond your years. Gifted, compassionate, outstanding young adults. When Granger comes home, please come over and we'll talk about our world and enjoy some freshly slaughtered lamb….
ReplyDeleteBe sure to read Ben's blog as there's some good stuff on it too and the number of hits is VERY important to Ben.