Alrighty.
So I think this should just about put a bow on Morocco, and more specifically Marrakech. These are a bunch of shots taken over the entire period I was there. Not before. Not after. Just during.
Amazing how that works out.
While not random, there isn't much method to my madness, though there is a basic method. Home and Neighbourhood. Square, Medina and Souks. People. Night. I could mark the transitions but you all seem like clever folk, so I'll leave you to sort it out.
So imagine yourself at my place, sitting on the couch and looking through a book of photos, or perhaps flipping through them on the TV. I'm puttering away in the kitchen, at least opening a bottle of wine, but then putting together some nibblies as we're gonna hang out for awhile. You're pretty much alone, shouting out a comment now and again, but not too loudly as, well, the kitchen is right there and the place is open concept, so whatever. And every so often I turn around, see what you're looking at, and toss in a related comment or story, or perhaps just a random bit from some other point on the trip that I remembered as the knife plunges into my thumb instead of the cucumber I was cutting.
That's the medina wall across from where I was living - Al Qaria Assiyahia. It took me forever how to say that right. It's kinda like telling someone named Carrie that you'll see them later, but not quite.
That's next door. We share a wall, a really big wall, but their door is way nicer.
Yes, not only do I like taking pictures of doors, I now seem to suffer from door envy.
This is the view from in front of my place looking to the left when you're facing the street, which is important, because if you don't do that you're likely to get squashed by a truck overloaded with stuff.
And yes, those are the moutains.
That's the water during the rainy days.
And this is it normally.
My place actually leaked. Don't know if I mentioned that before, but it did. Big window in the roof, rain came in. They took care of it kinda, but it still needs to be properly fixed up.
This is my door.
And this is where I was living.
Four floors plus terrace, three bedrooms, 3 1/2 bathrooms, totally more than I needed, but I'd already paid for it before Noah and Jake headed home, as there had originally been a very different plan for the holidays, but the Airbnb long-term policy truly sucks, and I couldn't get out of it without losing the first months rent. And since I was only there for a month and like, 5 days, it really would have been a waste. So I had a leaky little palace to myself, which, after all the time in hostels and such, was amazing. I love people, but I also love being away from people when I want to be. So this worked out nicely.
Except...
It leaked, a kitchen faucet came off in my hand, and water started jetting out of the wall until I could force it back in. The wiring on the lights blew. The satellite TV kept deciding it no longer had a signal. There were heaters in some rooms that were entirely insufficient for the size of room and how cold it got. The bathrooms, while stylish were poor on function. The washing machine was on the roof and blew the fuse anytime it rained, which, as you have heard, it did, a few times. The first time I didn't know what was up, and while it wasn't working, it hadn't tripped the breaker either. You know how the inside drum of a front-loading washer is stainless steel? You know steel is an excellent conductor of electricity? You know how you put your hands on the drum sometimes when you're putting clothes in? Ya, that was me, and I felt a little like Tom Hanks, minus having to pay the fix-it man or deal with Shelley Long.
All in all, little problems. No biggie.
This is where I bought veggies all the time. Nice guy with a bit of carpet set up in the Berber market near Bab KeChich, the medina gate nearest where I was living.
And no, I'm not making you tagine for dinner tonight. We'll do it another time. I've had a hankering for Italian, so hopefully that's okay with you.
This is the mosque right outside my door.
Qaria Assiyahia is a walled community. I think I've mentioned how much everyone seems to love their walls in Morocco. Well, this community has a few convenience shops, cafes, a tour agency, pharmacy, and yes, a mosque.
Oh, and that? That's the start of my walk inside the medina to get to work.
So I won't begin to say I know my way around Marrakech, but I do have my routes and my places, and I move through and around them pretty well, and they cover a good distance. So I'm learning, and when I go back I'll learn a bit more.
This is Jemaa El Fna, star of Dharma and Greg, the main square.
If the medina is the heart of Marrakech, then this is the heart of the medina.
Oh, and let's be clear. There is a "new" Marrakech outside the medina walls, and life outside the medina looks to be somewhat different from life inside. Shopping centres, movie theatres, whatever you'd expect in a city. I know I've said that before, but it's worth mentioning again, because I don't think you were listening last time, and I had been talking for so long that I probably sounded like a Peanut parent.
So yes, the square.
I wandered around the square alot. It's inevitable. Everyone wants to go there if they're visiting, and it was also the quickest way for me to get from home to the hostel, or home to the office, or the office to the hostel. What was the bridge again?
Everytime I wandered I realized how inadequate any photo I could take would be at capturing the energy of the place. I thought perhaps a recording would do. The cacophony that is Jemaa El Fna is astounding, and a much larger assault on your senses then what you get visually. Sadly the audio recordings I made totally suck, and don't capture squat.
So you're stuck with the visuals.
Yes, boxing. I was offered the opportunity to pay to have a kid punch me in the face repeatedly. For some reason I declined.
The number of Jian-G jokes (this one sounds like a Robin Williams movie) that come to mind right now is way too many for my own good.
Too soon? Inappropriate? Insensitive? Probably.
Too easy? Absolutely. Do it yourself.
What you didn't see were the monkeys in dresses and the snake charmers. Sorry, I just don't go in for that sort of thing. You just know the animals aren't treated well, and, while I can't blame someone for trying to make a living, the guys really can get aggressive about it all with the tourists, and I didn't feel like haggling to take a picture of someone's monkey.
The man in blue, as he is a blue man from Merzouga, is Hussein. The man to his right, who I realize is also in blue, is Abdul.
Abdul is apparently a night watchman in Qaria Assiyahia, though I never once saw him there. Hussein is his friend from Merzouga who I was invited to go have tea with. I was promised no sales pitch. From both of them even. One pot of tea later I was proven wrong as the carpets started flying onto the floor. Whatever. Still a friendly and enjoyable time.
That's Colin and Mathilde, which I previously spelled without the "h" and am now apologizing for. Hoping to meet up with them here in India too, and failing that, perhaps Bali.
They're travelling for a year as well, started about the same time as Noah, Jake and I did, and apparently have the same strategy of going around in a manner that avoids extreme hot or cold. Good plan.
This is Joanna. She's from Sahara Group Two.
At 7:30am on my last day in Morocco I was headed to the office, and who did I bump into just arriving in town and trying to find their hostel, but Joanna. I love how that stuff works out. I mean, when you think of all the little things that need to fall together to run into someone in the street, it really is quite amazing. And wonderful.
And actually, it happened alot. It probably happens more than it statistically should. I suck at math though, so perhaps I'm wrong and it's more like the thing where if you're in a room with twenty or so people then the likelihood that two people there share a birthday is greater than 50% or something like that. And I know it's "something" like that, but I'm not going to look it up, you know what I mean.
Anyway, like I was saying, it happens alot. For example, each day I did an excursion, the next day I ran into one of the couples from the previous day's excursion. Yes, sure, that's only three times. But it's also 100% and required all of the little things to fall into place as well.
Kinda like when Hussein and I bumped into each other and went and watched part of the soccer game at Cafe Montreal. Sure, I expect this thing from Toronto. I've lived there my whole life and know lots of people there. But when you've been somewhere for only six weeks and you know a hand-full of individuals, then you'd figure it'd happen less.
Nope.
Abdellah, Mbark, Ali.
My bosses, and my friends.
It's these guys, along with a couple of others you'll see shortly, that really made my time in Marrakech so amazing. You've already heard the story about the work, and seen the places they sent me. But it was the time after the Sahara trip, my last two weeks that really did it. Working in the office meant having breakfast and lunch with at least Mbark, and often Ali and Abdellah too. Meals meant talking, and talking meant interesting discussions, which meant getting to know each other, meant getting to become friends. And like turning yourself around in the hokey pokey, friendship is what it's all about.
This is Mohammed, myself, and Ali. Mohammed is the forth of the Tafraout/
Marrakech Travel Services quartet. I think he's the baritone. I only met and saw him the last couple of days, but again, I am ever so thankful for having been able to do so.
This is the going away gift they gave me. Yes, I got a gift. I got to travel around Morocco for free, and then be fed for two weeks, all in the name of getting to take pictures, write a little, and lay out some brochures (what I like to think of as playtime for me), and then they gave me a gift? Pretty much as speechless as when Abdellah offered me the opportunity to begin with.
Oh, you want to know what it is? Eventually.
This is Abdul.
Abdul works in a shop that I would pass by on my way to/from the hostel to/from the square (Jemaa). We said good morning to each other one day and that started a conversation that lasted my entire time in Marrakech, and will continue while I'm away, and when I go back (Insha'Allah), and so on and so on. A very kind person.
I like kind people.
The fact that my one picture with Hussein is a bit fuzzy ticks me off.
Hussein runs Waka Waka, and is absolutely fantastic individual. We spent loads of time together at the hostel, and in the last couple of weeks were able to hang out a bit outside of it. I never got those stinkin' papers. But we don't need no stinkin' papers!
Those six men. That's what makes Marrakech so amazing for me and why I will go back.
Okay, back to the kitchen. You just keep looking.
I just loved the broom.
That's the minaret of La Koutoubia mosque, the largest in Marrakech, and just off of Jemaa El Fna.
These are some of it's gardens.
Those are from Hussein's carpet store. The Hussein from Merzouga, not the one from Waka Waka.
That's some of the best bean soup stuff I have ever eaten, and it was at this little cart, near the above carpet store, in the medina close to where I lived.
Tea is everywhere. Berber whiskey everyone will say, often like it's the first time you would have heard it. Which I guess, the first time, was true. Usually you get tea with mint, which has alot of sugar in it as well. There are several other kinds of tea. This one is a spicy tea, and I had it with this dessert stuff that is pretty much the dough of my mom's ginger cookies.
And here's a last few at night time, in case the dark sky didn't give it away.
The square, which is not a square at all incidently, is completely different at night. Still a touch insane, but insane with a totally different group of story-tellers, musicians, and foodstalls.
Some mental snapshots to finish up.
- Surprised when a woman in a partial burka started breastfeeding her child on the train to Rabat.
- Train ride back from Rabat where a young man prays, an elderly woman talks on her cell phone, and her husband offers everyone cookies and flips through the book I am reading (Red Rabbit) even though he doesn't speak english
- A man in line behind me at the Indian embassy giving me his number so he can hook me up with his family in Delhi, as it's his home town and he's excited that I am going there
- Listening to a young man talk about his PhD in linguistics, English, and the science of language as we sit together waiting for different trains
- Listening to Noah talk about his job interview
- Seeing lines for two lanes of traffic painted on the road, but trying to somehow make it across the four muddled lanes that there are as scooters buzz past all around on all sides. Laughing about it with another guy also trying to cross.
- A guy swearing in a cafe when something freaky happens in the movie Panic Room, which is on the TV. First swearing I've heard in a long time. We all laugh at his Holy f-bomb.
- Listening to my Dad complain about his students.
- Mbark telling me the story of a woman who was told she could buy a canon that sits outside the post office in the square for 10,000 euro. Having paid, she shows up a few weeks later with people and a truck to collect said canon and is nearly arrested for theft.
- Marvin Gaye YouTube mix on a Friday night at Waka Waka
- Discovering what noises Jake and I can make when we really put our throats into it.
- Being greeted traditionally with a kiss on both cheeks by a man MBark had just introduced me to as we sat down for breakfast.
- The elderly man outside my home who said hello every time we saw each other
- The elderly woman outside the office who kissed her hand and waved every day we saw each other
- Daniel reciting from the Book of Daniel
- Tree-trimming at my mom's
- Adel holding his hand up to his mouth like a microphone so that I understood his name properly
- Walking home at night and having everyone make sure I knew that the square was in the opposite direction as I couldn't possibly be going the right way and they didn't want me to get lost
- Seeing a guy pushing a melon cart and immediately wishing Nate were there
- The man sitting beside me at the bean soup stall making sure I got enough tea
- Hearing the words "You are our brother"
People. Strangers. Friends. Family. Connections. Each and every one of them in some small way saying...
I am with you. I am with you.
Wa alaykumu s-salam.
Shokran.
So I think this should just about put a bow on Morocco, and more specifically Marrakech. These are a bunch of shots taken over the entire period I was there. Not before. Not after. Just during.
Amazing how that works out.
While not random, there isn't much method to my madness, though there is a basic method. Home and Neighbourhood. Square, Medina and Souks. People. Night. I could mark the transitions but you all seem like clever folk, so I'll leave you to sort it out.
So imagine yourself at my place, sitting on the couch and looking through a book of photos, or perhaps flipping through them on the TV. I'm puttering away in the kitchen, at least opening a bottle of wine, but then putting together some nibblies as we're gonna hang out for awhile. You're pretty much alone, shouting out a comment now and again, but not too loudly as, well, the kitchen is right there and the place is open concept, so whatever. And every so often I turn around, see what you're looking at, and toss in a related comment or story, or perhaps just a random bit from some other point on the trip that I remembered as the knife plunges into my thumb instead of the cucumber I was cutting.
That's the medina wall across from where I was living - Al Qaria Assiyahia. It took me forever how to say that right. It's kinda like telling someone named Carrie that you'll see them later, but not quite.
That's next door. We share a wall, a really big wall, but their door is way nicer.
Yes, not only do I like taking pictures of doors, I now seem to suffer from door envy.
This is the view from in front of my place looking to the left when you're facing the street, which is important, because if you don't do that you're likely to get squashed by a truck overloaded with stuff.
And yes, those are the moutains.
That's the water during the rainy days.
And this is it normally.
My place actually leaked. Don't know if I mentioned that before, but it did. Big window in the roof, rain came in. They took care of it kinda, but it still needs to be properly fixed up.
This is my door.
And this is where I was living.
Four floors plus terrace, three bedrooms, 3 1/2 bathrooms, totally more than I needed, but I'd already paid for it before Noah and Jake headed home, as there had originally been a very different plan for the holidays, but the Airbnb long-term policy truly sucks, and I couldn't get out of it without losing the first months rent. And since I was only there for a month and like, 5 days, it really would have been a waste. So I had a leaky little palace to myself, which, after all the time in hostels and such, was amazing. I love people, but I also love being away from people when I want to be. So this worked out nicely.
Except...
It leaked, a kitchen faucet came off in my hand, and water started jetting out of the wall until I could force it back in. The wiring on the lights blew. The satellite TV kept deciding it no longer had a signal. There were heaters in some rooms that were entirely insufficient for the size of room and how cold it got. The bathrooms, while stylish were poor on function. The washing machine was on the roof and blew the fuse anytime it rained, which, as you have heard, it did, a few times. The first time I didn't know what was up, and while it wasn't working, it hadn't tripped the breaker either. You know how the inside drum of a front-loading washer is stainless steel? You know steel is an excellent conductor of electricity? You know how you put your hands on the drum sometimes when you're putting clothes in? Ya, that was me, and I felt a little like Tom Hanks, minus having to pay the fix-it man or deal with Shelley Long.
All in all, little problems. No biggie.
This is where I bought veggies all the time. Nice guy with a bit of carpet set up in the Berber market near Bab KeChich, the medina gate nearest where I was living.
And no, I'm not making you tagine for dinner tonight. We'll do it another time. I've had a hankering for Italian, so hopefully that's okay with you.
This is the mosque right outside my door.
Qaria Assiyahia is a walled community. I think I've mentioned how much everyone seems to love their walls in Morocco. Well, this community has a few convenience shops, cafes, a tour agency, pharmacy, and yes, a mosque.
Oh, and that? That's the start of my walk inside the medina to get to work.
So I won't begin to say I know my way around Marrakech, but I do have my routes and my places, and I move through and around them pretty well, and they cover a good distance. So I'm learning, and when I go back I'll learn a bit more.
This is Jemaa El Fna, star of Dharma and Greg, the main square.
If the medina is the heart of Marrakech, then this is the heart of the medina.
Oh, and let's be clear. There is a "new" Marrakech outside the medina walls, and life outside the medina looks to be somewhat different from life inside. Shopping centres, movie theatres, whatever you'd expect in a city. I know I've said that before, but it's worth mentioning again, because I don't think you were listening last time, and I had been talking for so long that I probably sounded like a Peanut parent.
So yes, the square.
I wandered around the square alot. It's inevitable. Everyone wants to go there if they're visiting, and it was also the quickest way for me to get from home to the hostel, or home to the office, or the office to the hostel. What was the bridge again?
Everytime I wandered I realized how inadequate any photo I could take would be at capturing the energy of the place. I thought perhaps a recording would do. The cacophony that is Jemaa El Fna is astounding, and a much larger assault on your senses then what you get visually. Sadly the audio recordings I made totally suck, and don't capture squat.
So you're stuck with the visuals.
Yes, boxing. I was offered the opportunity to pay to have a kid punch me in the face repeatedly. For some reason I declined.
The number of Jian-G jokes (this one sounds like a Robin Williams movie) that come to mind right now is way too many for my own good.
Too soon? Inappropriate? Insensitive? Probably.
Too easy? Absolutely. Do it yourself.
What you didn't see were the monkeys in dresses and the snake charmers. Sorry, I just don't go in for that sort of thing. You just know the animals aren't treated well, and, while I can't blame someone for trying to make a living, the guys really can get aggressive about it all with the tourists, and I didn't feel like haggling to take a picture of someone's monkey.
The man in blue, as he is a blue man from Merzouga, is Hussein. The man to his right, who I realize is also in blue, is Abdul.
Abdul is apparently a night watchman in Qaria Assiyahia, though I never once saw him there. Hussein is his friend from Merzouga who I was invited to go have tea with. I was promised no sales pitch. From both of them even. One pot of tea later I was proven wrong as the carpets started flying onto the floor. Whatever. Still a friendly and enjoyable time.
That's Colin and Mathilde, which I previously spelled without the "h" and am now apologizing for. Hoping to meet up with them here in India too, and failing that, perhaps Bali.
They're travelling for a year as well, started about the same time as Noah, Jake and I did, and apparently have the same strategy of going around in a manner that avoids extreme hot or cold. Good plan.
This is Joanna. She's from Sahara Group Two.
At 7:30am on my last day in Morocco I was headed to the office, and who did I bump into just arriving in town and trying to find their hostel, but Joanna. I love how that stuff works out. I mean, when you think of all the little things that need to fall together to run into someone in the street, it really is quite amazing. And wonderful.
And actually, it happened alot. It probably happens more than it statistically should. I suck at math though, so perhaps I'm wrong and it's more like the thing where if you're in a room with twenty or so people then the likelihood that two people there share a birthday is greater than 50% or something like that. And I know it's "something" like that, but I'm not going to look it up, you know what I mean.
Anyway, like I was saying, it happens alot. For example, each day I did an excursion, the next day I ran into one of the couples from the previous day's excursion. Yes, sure, that's only three times. But it's also 100% and required all of the little things to fall into place as well.
Kinda like when Hussein and I bumped into each other and went and watched part of the soccer game at Cafe Montreal. Sure, I expect this thing from Toronto. I've lived there my whole life and know lots of people there. But when you've been somewhere for only six weeks and you know a hand-full of individuals, then you'd figure it'd happen less.
Nope.
Abdellah, Mbark, Ali.
My bosses, and my friends.
It's these guys, along with a couple of others you'll see shortly, that really made my time in Marrakech so amazing. You've already heard the story about the work, and seen the places they sent me. But it was the time after the Sahara trip, my last two weeks that really did it. Working in the office meant having breakfast and lunch with at least Mbark, and often Ali and Abdellah too. Meals meant talking, and talking meant interesting discussions, which meant getting to know each other, meant getting to become friends. And like turning yourself around in the hokey pokey, friendship is what it's all about.
This is Mohammed, myself, and Ali. Mohammed is the forth of the Tafraout/
Marrakech Travel Services quartet. I think he's the baritone. I only met and saw him the last couple of days, but again, I am ever so thankful for having been able to do so.
This is the going away gift they gave me. Yes, I got a gift. I got to travel around Morocco for free, and then be fed for two weeks, all in the name of getting to take pictures, write a little, and lay out some brochures (what I like to think of as playtime for me), and then they gave me a gift? Pretty much as speechless as when Abdellah offered me the opportunity to begin with.
Oh, you want to know what it is? Eventually.
This is Abdul.
Abdul works in a shop that I would pass by on my way to/from the hostel to/from the square (Jemaa). We said good morning to each other one day and that started a conversation that lasted my entire time in Marrakech, and will continue while I'm away, and when I go back (Insha'Allah), and so on and so on. A very kind person.
I like kind people.
The fact that my one picture with Hussein is a bit fuzzy ticks me off.
Hussein runs Waka Waka, and is absolutely fantastic individual. We spent loads of time together at the hostel, and in the last couple of weeks were able to hang out a bit outside of it. I never got those stinkin' papers. But we don't need no stinkin' papers!
Those six men. That's what makes Marrakech so amazing for me and why I will go back.
Okay, back to the kitchen. You just keep looking.
I just loved the broom.
That's the minaret of La Koutoubia mosque, the largest in Marrakech, and just off of Jemaa El Fna.
These are some of it's gardens.
Those are from Hussein's carpet store. The Hussein from Merzouga, not the one from Waka Waka.
That's some of the best bean soup stuff I have ever eaten, and it was at this little cart, near the above carpet store, in the medina close to where I lived.
Tea is everywhere. Berber whiskey everyone will say, often like it's the first time you would have heard it. Which I guess, the first time, was true. Usually you get tea with mint, which has alot of sugar in it as well. There are several other kinds of tea. This one is a spicy tea, and I had it with this dessert stuff that is pretty much the dough of my mom's ginger cookies.
And here's a last few at night time, in case the dark sky didn't give it away.
The square, which is not a square at all incidently, is completely different at night. Still a touch insane, but insane with a totally different group of story-tellers, musicians, and foodstalls.
Some mental snapshots to finish up.
- Surprised when a woman in a partial burka started breastfeeding her child on the train to Rabat.
- Train ride back from Rabat where a young man prays, an elderly woman talks on her cell phone, and her husband offers everyone cookies and flips through the book I am reading (Red Rabbit) even though he doesn't speak english
- A man in line behind me at the Indian embassy giving me his number so he can hook me up with his family in Delhi, as it's his home town and he's excited that I am going there
- Listening to a young man talk about his PhD in linguistics, English, and the science of language as we sit together waiting for different trains
- Listening to Noah talk about his job interview
- Seeing lines for two lanes of traffic painted on the road, but trying to somehow make it across the four muddled lanes that there are as scooters buzz past all around on all sides. Laughing about it with another guy also trying to cross.
- A guy swearing in a cafe when something freaky happens in the movie Panic Room, which is on the TV. First swearing I've heard in a long time. We all laugh at his Holy f-bomb.
- Listening to my Dad complain about his students.
- Mbark telling me the story of a woman who was told she could buy a canon that sits outside the post office in the square for 10,000 euro. Having paid, she shows up a few weeks later with people and a truck to collect said canon and is nearly arrested for theft.
- Marvin Gaye YouTube mix on a Friday night at Waka Waka
- Discovering what noises Jake and I can make when we really put our throats into it.
- Being greeted traditionally with a kiss on both cheeks by a man MBark had just introduced me to as we sat down for breakfast.
- The elderly man outside my home who said hello every time we saw each other
- The elderly woman outside the office who kissed her hand and waved every day we saw each other
- Daniel reciting from the Book of Daniel
- Tree-trimming at my mom's
- Adel holding his hand up to his mouth like a microphone so that I understood his name properly
- Walking home at night and having everyone make sure I knew that the square was in the opposite direction as I couldn't possibly be going the right way and they didn't want me to get lost
- Seeing a guy pushing a melon cart and immediately wishing Nate were there
- The man sitting beside me at the bean soup stall making sure I got enough tea
- Hearing the words "You are our brother"
People. Strangers. Friends. Family. Connections. Each and every one of them in some small way saying...
I am with you. I am with you.
Wa alaykumu s-salam.
Shokran.
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