Back in the day when Peace Corps was just a twinkle in my undergraduate eye, a lot of friends vowed to come and visit me in whatever remote location I ended up living in. Since I have a lot of uniquely snazzy and wanderlustful friends, I figured that these weren’t empty gestures of “you’re nuts but you’re still my friend” kinda support– I felt like I had some guaranteed visitors! Fast forward a few years and a few part-time jobs later, and most of my friends are feeling the brunt of financial independence (can I call it that if you don’t really have any money?) They’re all doing wonderful, interesting, world-altering things….but aren’t necessarily getting well-compensated with money. Unfortunately, flights to Morocco involve putting down some serious dollahs. A + B = C: not a lot of non-relative visitors for Sarah. Not that I’m complaining in the least! It actually made it all the more exciting and awesome when my college friend Catherine came to visit me.
Oh my how we’ve grown!
So, Catherine and I met backkkkk in the day, second semester of freshman year, in Jeffery Whittle’s Color & Composition class. It was love at first sight. Erin Freeman was thrown into the mix the next semester in our Introduction to 3D Design course and…never have three women been so in love. Unfortunately, Erin has a life or something, so she couldn’t tag along….next time, inchallah.
Catherine and I met up in Casablanca, where this brave woman ventured from the airport into the city all by herself (I was hanging out in the fancy shmancy Dubai airport for 329810321 hours when she touched down in Morocco.) We took the train into Marrakech and headed straight for Tameslouht. First lesson? Turkish potty-training.
She was a champ– kinda a natural.
While planning for this trip, I asked Catherine if she would prefer visiting a lot of places and spending one or two days in each, or picking a location and investigating it thoroughly. Thankfully (for my bank account and for my sanity), Catherine selected the latter, and so we used Tameslouht as our base and went out from there. First stop, obviously, was Marrakech. We spent our first afternoon there just walking around the city and getting acclimated to the intensity of the place. A romantic date ensued at the cafe overlooking Jemaa El Fnaa.
After exploring everything that Tameslouht has to offer (and learning that Led Zeppelin allegedly played some show in our town’s ancient zaouia?), we headed out for a day-trip to a neighboring mountain town, Amizmiz. Following my prior experience in this town, Catherine and I hiked up a mountain where we roughed it and cooked a tajine all by ourselves. Getting the fire started was exciting– when there are high winds and you’re working with nothing but a meager lighter and seemingly non-flammable paper, it apparently takes almost an hour to even get a fire started. But started it did get (and it took long enough to help us work up an appetite!). We made a chicken and olive tajine, which cooked surprisingly well on a very uneven flame. After eating, we packed up, said goodbye to the neighboring sheep (the exact same ones who were there the previous year! With the same crazy shepherd who had extensive conversations with them!), and headed back into town to catch a bus back to Tameslouht. The day ended peacefully with spaghetti, meatballs, and a night of Modern Family.
Our plan for Thursday was another day-trip to another neighboring mountain town of Orika. Before our departure, however, Catherine had expressed interest in getting a real hemmam experience. So, after my class finished around 11, we packed up our toiletries and extra pairs of underwear and entered into the land of the public bath. For those of you who live hemmam-devoid lives, I should explain that there are a grand total of 4 rooms in this Tameslouht hemmams. The first is a general lobby where people get undressed, pick up their buckets, and possibly eat an orange or two. The second room is a tiled room with benches and is usually quite cool. The third room is tiled without benches and has four faucets: two hot, two cold. This room is where the majority of hemmam-goers enjoy a good scrub-down, as it’s the “just-right” temperature. The fourth room could also be referred to as hell. It is the hottest, and I, being a complete idiot, decided to set up shop there since it was the emptiest room (no shit sherlock). Catherine and I died. It took so much effort to even sit up (and there was no way in hell– haha get it?– that I was laying down on the floor of a public bath.) Catherine and I made it out semi-alive after 2 hours, but were so exhausted we kinda just plopped down in my living room and started watching more Modern Family. After allowing our headaches to manifest completely, we decided to get some fresh air.
There were talks of chocolate cravings, and I knew the right place to quench the proverbial thirst– our “mul donut.” This is a guy who conveniently/ un-conveniently (depending how strictly you’re trying to adhere to a diet on any given day) is situated on the way to the dar chabab. He sells sweets, most consistently donuts. On this given day, he also had a pile of freshly-baked chbekiya (fried dough soaked in honey and rose water) and sleelou (mixed up nuts and sugar that taste like heaven). Catherine had the genius idea to get a sampling of each, so we paid 7 DH (less than a dollar) and walked away with quite an array of goodies. My inner 2 year old came out, though, and I ate myself sick. Combining an overload of sugar with an already-persistent headache is never a smart idea. We ended up making a couscous dinner invitation, but pretty much collapsed when we finally reached my house.
So much for Orika.
Friday was our day to go down south and visit my dear friend and in-country boyfriend, Michelle. The only thing standing in between us and her is a large mountain pass called the Tichka. It is a rather scary contraption, winding up and down with sharp turns and only a 2 ft tall guardrail protecting you and your mode of transportation from a lonnnngggggg fall. Pictures don’t do it justice, but this will give you a small idea of our fear:
The next morning was souk. We got up early and picked out some delicious-looking veggies, marveling at the fact that we were the only non-male entities in the entire place. We spent the morning washing dishes and playing bananagrams, watching Michelle teach young children, and then baking a cheesecake.
It would have been too easy to just leave it at that– late at night, Catherine went to go utilize her well-honed squatting skills in Michelle’s turk. We heard some faraway screaming, but didn’t think anything of it (I know that sounds weird, but if you’re a PCV, you know what we mean). Turns out Catherine was having some difficulty leaving the toilet due to a MASSIVE INSECT– I would call it a centipede but it was like, half-snake at the same time. Absolutely disgusting, wriggly, scary little thing that is apparently poisonous. Throw in the fact that you couldn’t really see it well in the darkness AND the fact that three screaming girls do nothing but reinforce each other’s screaming….it was a mess. We eventually calmed down and Michelle beheaded the little thing, but wow, that was quite an adventure to end on. We woke up bright and early on Sunday to head back home, braving the 7am bus and a driver who apparently didn’t fear death. Happy Easter from Morocco!
Monday, also known as the first of April, also known as April Fool’s Day, also known as my BIRTHDAY, was awesome. We ushered 25 in with a bang, playing bananagrams at the cafe all morning and then heading into Marrakech for a delicious lunch. Catherine brought candles and stuck them into every bit of food I consumed that day, from a loaf of bread to a single cookie. They ended up in my birthday dinner, a very late couscous and birthday cake (imported from America by Catherine), melted and beautiful. More on my birthday in a separate entry, but rest assured that the 25th year of my life is looking like one of the best ones yet.
We ended Catherine’s Moroccan escapade with an intense shopping trip in the old medina of Marrakech. Gotta get all of those presents for people back home! It was really sad to push her off onto the train to Casablanca, but we made sure to keep it classy– wishing each other off well with “Here’s lookin’ at you.”
Thanks for the great visit Catherine!!!!! Sorry about all of the disgruntled donkeys and blind roosters that interrupted your sleeping patterns. That was just Morocco showing you how much it loves you.
