Monkeying Around in Azrou

Salaam wa aleikum!

So this Saturday, Siera, Joanne, Stephanie, and I all decided on a day trip to Azrou for basically one reason: monkeys. That’s right. Monkeys.

You see, in the forest located close to Azrou, there is a community of barbary apes that live close to the side of the road. Tourists (mostly Arab ones) come to interact with them and feed them and basically bask in the knowledge that they are partying with actual monkeys.

So anyway, our day started out with a jaunt over to the grand taxi station that is located close to where Siera lives (Joanne and Stephanie came to my house first to drop their stuff off for our sleepover). When ended up discovering that the grand taxi station is actually also a bus station, so we tried to go in and see when the next bus to Azrou was when who should we find but five people from the Egypt program that were also going to Azrou. We tried to get on their bus, but the man who sold tickets said that they were sold out and that we would have to wait until the 11:30 bus. Despondent, we walked over to see if our first plan (taking a grand taxi) would work out. And it would! If we were willing to pay 200 dirham one way. And we weren’t.

So long, suckers.

We decided that we would just wait for the next bus and started walking back to the bus station. We were about to walk back in when this guy runs up to us and starts yelling pretty loudly, ‘Azrou?! You want to go to Azrou?!’ And we were like, yes, of course we want to go to Azrou. It turns out that they did have enough room on the bus and we did a real quick money-ticket exhange and ran to hop on the bus as it was pulling out of the station. It was a pretty intense start to the day.

WE MADE IT!

So the bus ride was about an hour and when we got off, we kind of ended up just staying close to the Egypt group because they were going to same place we were anyway. Robert (one of the directors of the Egypt program) did some hardcore haggling with the grand taxi drivers and we got driven up to the Monkey Forest for 200 dirham (9 people, 2 taxis, could have been worse).

Negotiations. 

Four girls in a taxi, going up a mountain.

So we get up to the forest and see monkeys. Lots of monkeys.

After spending some time with the monkeys, we then all went hiking in the forest for a little over an hour and saw some pretty cool things. Enjoy looking at pictures (because nothing else happened).

So after that, we spent some more time with the monkeys and waited for our grand taxis to pick us up. Please, enjoy more pictures.

When then went back to the bus station in Azrou and bought our tickets for the 4:30 return ride to Meknes and waited for an hour to finally get on the bus. Siera and I were kind of worried because Mass started at 6:30 and we didn’t want to miss it, especially considering the fact that we had been invited to dinner with the priest afterwards, but we ended up getting there just in time.

We had a great time at Mass, but we noticed all these new non-old-French people there. It turns out that they were Italians who were visiting Meknes and Father Pietro, so they ended up staying for dinner as well. They were super nice and spoke a little English, but I was mainly excited because it meant that I could use Italian. At first, it was a bit of a problem because I kept mixing Arabic and English and Italian all at the same time, but it gave me a big boost on my language speaking confidence because, as it turns out, I do still remember Italian! (Seriously, you have no idea how excited this made me.)

After dinner, we all chilled at a little café for a while and then Stephanie, Joanne, and I went back to my house for our sleepover. All in all, it was an awesome day.

Interesting Story of the Day:

So I was falling behind the group because I really wanted to take a picture of the mama monkey with her baby, and this Moroccan guy that had one of the horses comes up to me and strikes up a conversation. We’re talking and he’s asking about my studies and ‘How long do you have left?’ and ‘Maybe you can come back to Morocco’ and ‘I’ve always wanted to go to America.’ So I’m like, yeah, cool story bro, but I really need to meet back up with my group. He tells me that I can have a free ride on the horse, ‘Really, it’s a gift!’ and so I get on the horse and he takes me back over to my group. But once again, I start falling behind (because everyone else was walking crazy fast) and I end up at the back of the group, behind this horse guy. He turns around, sees me, and then tells me that I should get on the horse again and go for another ride. I say, ‘Thanks, but no thanks, I really need to get back to my group’ and he says, ‘No, it’s fine, we can go see the panoramic view, together!’

…So I’m pretty sure a marriage proposal was not far off in my future. (I didn’t go with him.)

Ma’a salaama!

Everyday Life in Meknes

Salaam wa aleikum!

So nothing really interesting has happened this week. Just been doing classes and all that good stuff. However, I have been taking some video whenever the mood takes me, so here's another video. Enjoy!

Ma'a salaama!

A Catholic Experience (Warning: Religious Content)

Salaam wa aleikum!

So this Saturday, I went to Mass. That’s right, despite the fact that Morocco is a predominately Islamic country, there is a Catholic church right in the middle of the new city.

YAY!

Siera and I both really wanted to hit up Mass at some point during our stay in Morocco (and Siera will have plenty more opportunities, as she will be staying the entire year), and I remembered that Anne Marie had said during orientation that there was a Catholic service at 6:00 on Saturdays. So Siera and I headed out around 5:30 and caught a cab to the church (apparently all you have to tell the cab driver in ‘door of the church’ in Arabic and he totally knows where to go. That probably has something to do with the fact that there’s only one church in the entire city.)

 Hint: The cross means a church.

 A pretty little courtyard.

Where the priests and nuns live.

Yep, this is the church.

So we arrived at 5:40, went into the church, and sat down in the pews. There was this one Moroccan guy sitting there and an older gentlemen setting everything up for Mass. And so we waited. And waited. And waited (see where I’m going with this). There was a lot of waiting. It passed 6:00 and only one other gentleman had come in (who was also old). However, we were able to entertain ourselves by looking at the missals. 

Which were in French.  

(Spoiler alert: I don’t know French.)

Eventually people did indeed start coming in and introducing themselves to us. In French…and neither Siera nor I know French. They were all also up there in age. And I really mean up there. The Moroccan guy was probably closest to us in age and I’d put him in his mid-40’s.

But they were all super nice. The church community is (obviously) very small, consisting almost completely of old French people that have retired to Meknes. All the congregants knew the priest (Pietro (he’s Italian)) very well and the environment was really relaxed. Father Pietro went out of his way to make our experience awesome, including giving us English bibles and marking the readings for us so that we could follow along. (And he knew English. Which was a relief.)

Above and beyond, man.

So we opened with a French hymn (obviously), but I knew the tune from English Mass, so I just followed along and bastardized quite a bit of French as I did so. (Seriously, the poor women in front of us must have been cringing.)

Honestly, the Mass was the same, which is an awesome feeling. The fact that I am connected to my fellow Catholics through the Mass is never more apparent than when I’m actually in a foreign country, participating in Mass in a foreign language, but still knowing exactly what is happening. We all know the Sign of Peace, everyone shakes each others’ hands, we all say ‘Amen.’ We were welcomed without reservation. And that’s beautiful.

Some things never change.

Sorry, bit of a rant there. Anyway, when receiving the Body, the priest actually switched to English for us, which I thought was super nice. (Seriously, this priest was boss.)

After Mass, we actually talked with the only other young person there (after all the old people had wished us well and said goodbye), and young Italian woman named Nicoletta. She’s only in Meknes for two weeks, but she’s volunteering at the church because she met Pietro through a volunteer organization last summer. She is super nice and spoke English, which was great (mainly because I can’t manage to make Italian come out of my mouth right now. Everything’s in Arabic). So yeah, we chatted with her for a bit and then Father Pietro invited us to stay for dinner. Unfortunately, it was maybe fifteen minutes ‘till Iftar so we had to decline, but we did make plans for next Saturday. Get excited for that blog post.

So yeah, that was definitely a great experience and I’m already looking forward to next weekend. Talk to you all then!

Interesting Story of the Day:

• So after Mass, we walked outside and were talking with Nicoletta when we noticed this older gentleman walking around in a dress and women’s shoes. It took a second for it to actually sink in, and then we noticed that Father Pietro was about the shave him? I don’t know, there was cross-dressing happening at the church after Mass and I have no idea why. So yeah. That happened.

Ma’a salaama!

I Made A Video!

Salaam wa aleikum!

I got bored and stole this idea from another student, so enjoy a video of random things that have happened while in Morocco so far.

Ma'a salaama!!

A Love Letter to my Grandmother: Concerning Skirts

Dear Nana,

 Hi.

When I first said that I was going to be going to Morocco, you automatically latched on to the most important thing: clothes. As most people are aware, going to a foreign country often requires a different standard for wardrobe. For instance, Morocco is an Islamic country. This means that, although there is plenty of European influence, it is better to wear outfits that will not offend the locals.

Like this one.

And you were aware of this because you are the best clothes person in the world. And the best grandmother. (But that's pretty much a given.)

(Obviously)

So I have been wearing those skirts you gave me, which are basically a gift from God, especially when the weather gets super hot. You always say that things always come back in style, and believe me, that has been proven true during my time in Morocco. I have gotten multiple compliments on some of my skirts (most of them being the ones I took from your closet (which is apparently a land of wonder and fashionable joy)).

As evidenced by this. 

And this one.  

Aaaaand this one.

So thank you, Nana. You obviously have extremely good taste and an uncanny ability to know exactly what I will need when I travel overseas. Just be aware, I might continue stealing from your closet. It has clearly served me well.

(And I look awesome.)

All my love,

Mary Margaret

Freewheeling and Fancy-free in Fez

Salaam wa aleikum!

So, on Saturday I packed my American Councils bag and headed off to Fez for the day. And I’ll be honest. The only reason I went was for shopping purposes. Nothing else. And I’m okay with that.

So I left the house around 10:30 because our train was supposed to leave at 11:30 and I met up with Siera at the station.

                                                          Going to Fez!

Random tree at the train station.

With random oranges. 

Siera being Audrey Hepburn. 

Going on a train ride.

However, Stephanie and Joanne had gone to the other train station in Meknes, so we were all like, ‘Well, crap. This is inconvenient.’ Especially considering the fact that neither Siera nor I had the other girls’ telephone numbers and they didn’t have ours. Plus my phone had run out of minutes, so I couldn’t even use mine to call people. So I had Siera call my language partner, Habiba, so that I could get Stephanie’s number from her, so that we could then call Stephanie. We did get a hold of her and then decided that we would all just get on a train to Fez and meet up there (hopefully without any major tactical issues). So we did. And as it turns out, we were actually on the same train the entire time.

The first order of business was getting a taxi. So here’s some advice: Never trust a taxi driver from Fez.

They are liars and cheats.

Luckily for us, Elizabeth had already gone to Fez two weekends before (the same weekend that I went to the swim meet) and had told me that their taxi had only cost them eleven dirham; therefore, I told Siera this when we started trying to get taxis. And let me tell you, that was not what the taxi drivers were telling us.

Because they lie.

First of all, you must always make sure that the taxis’ meter is working (and considering the fact that it is actually illegal for it not to be working, you can assume it really is) because otherwise they will overcharge you so fast your head will spin. At the train station, the taxi drivers were consistently telling us that it was twenty dirham per person to go the old city (which didn’t exactly match up with what Elizabeth had told me previously (just a little bit off)). And props to Siera, girl wasn’t having any of that. She was just tsking and saying ‘la’ every time they tried to convince us that that was the correct price. Eventually, we walked further down the road to a petite taxi stand and finally found a guy that was actually using his meter (Bless you, sir!) and made our way to the old city. (Oh, and the ride cost ten dirahim. Just so you know.)

Bab Boujeloud. 

AKA Entrance to the Old City.

Once we were at the old city, we began walking around and looking at stuff. I had a pretty small shopping list, so I wasn’t in that big of a hurry.

Things that Mary Margaret needed to buy:

• A leather purse for Shelby
• A wooden box for Nana
• A fez hat from Fez 

Honestly, we just walked around for a bit, looking into shops, being harassed by Moroccans, normal stuff. We did run into some other people from our program, which was entertaining, because they were behind us and started saying, ‘Hello, Americans!’ in an Moroccan accent, which was really getting on our nerves. Siera was about to turn around and rip them a new one when she realized who they were.

Market. 

Market. 

Cloth things in market. 

Shop in market. 

Bags in market. 

Super creepy mannequin in market. 

LAMPS!!! ALADDIN!!!

Eventually we managed to get past all the false advertising and actually find the Tannery, which was definitely something I wanted to see. This is the thing that Fez is really well-known for: leather.

So. Many. Pits. 

24601% done. 

It looks disgusting, right? 

                                                     And they use water wheels!

However, the salesperson for the Tannery was absolutely awful (Mom, you would have been so ashamed of him). We were just looking at some of their products and Joanne was taking quite a while (she’s an indecisive shopper) and this guy is just standing there, listening to his iPod, and generally being obviously uninterested in what he is doing. Eventually, he basically told us that if we weren’t going to buy anything, then we should get out. And you know, I had actually been considering buying something. But after that, suddenly his merchandise became much less appealing. It’s amazing how that happens.

Didn't buy these.

Or these.

Or these. Suck it.

Anyway, the day was salvaged thanks to the women’s cooperative that was located next door. The women (generally Berber) make these natural shampoos and creams and remedies for things based off of this special seed/nut that is found in the region. They also offer massages, if anyone wants to go get one.

Cool stuff. 

More cool stuff. 

All the cool stuff.

So I managed to buy some things for my Mom there (I won’t tell you what because I want it to be a surprise) and overall, it was a much better experience than the tannery.

After that, we walked around some more, and I managed to find a purse for Shelby (I hope you like it. I might send you a picture if you ask nicely) and a fez hat from Fez (two words: Doctor Who).

Following the culmination of our shopping spree, we headed out of the old city, grabbed a taxi (with a working meter!) and returned to the train station to catch a ride home. Overall, I’d say it was a fairly productive day and one that was definitely better for having been spent with some friends. Goodbye Fez, Hello Meknes!

Interesting Stories of the Day:

• While waiting for the train in Meknes, we met this older lady who was traveling alone and lugging her bag up the stairs. When we asked if we could help her (in Arabic, mind you), she replied in American English that she was totally fine but thanks for offering. And she had this little hat.

• Also, apparently when we were sitting on the train, the guy sitting behind me started to stroke my hair after I put my hat on. Siera was like, ‘Mary Margaret, slowly move closer to me.’ So I did, after which she told me about the creepy guy. So yeah, that happened.

• Then there was this Moroccan guy in the old city who was very interested in being a guide for us. I just kept walking, but I wasn’t super aggressive in trying to get him to go away. I figured he’d just get bored eventually. However, Siera comes up, grabs my arm, and starts pulling me away, saying ‘No thanks’ and ‘Goodbye’ in Arabic. And this dude just flies off the handle. Starts yelling at Siera, calling her a stupid lady and telling her that she speaks Arabic like a monkey and ‘This is my city! I am in my country, you cannot talk to me that way!’ Just a little bit of everyday drama in the Old City in Fez.

• There was also this adorable cat with its baby. They were super cute.

• And then we had to take an obligatory OU picture.

It took intensive planning... 

...but we succeeded!

Ma'a salaama!!