Or . . . the not-so-traveling librarian

Looking at this blog during the past week while I posted my Lit for Youth books, I couldn't help but be a little sad as I reflected on how little I've traveled during the two years I've been working on this MLS.  Needless to say, it has all but consumed me.  Sure, I just returned from Alaska and had a great time at PNLA . . . oh, and I guess there was a trip to Dallas back in January for ALA Midwinter . . . and two excursions to Tucson to see family . . . and of course our summer jaunts to somewhere-in-the-middle-of-Montana . . . and that recent anniversary trip to Warm Lake . . . so add them all up, and I guess I have been traveling, sans passport.  Now, after posting my final assignment for my final class, I'm full of new ideas, new information, and barely enough energy to put together a coherent sentence.  I will travel again, I am sure, but now, more than ever, it seems just as adventurous and fulfilling to have enough time to find my way to the bottom of the laundry basket.

Perks of going on a study tour . . .

Many teachers have said to me before, "Why bother going on a teacher study tour if it's not completely funded? Why not just travel to the place on your own?" The short answer? Because today I met Royal Galipeau and David Jacobson. Who? The first is a an MP (Member of Parliament) who led us on an impromptu tour of the Parliament building this evening. Can you imagine just walking into the US Congress and having John Boehner just walk up and start talking to a group of strangers and leading them all over - including onto the floor of both chambers? Incredible. M. Galipeau is such a humble, down-to-earth guy who not only taught us so much about the inner workings of parliament and history of the building, but also gave us a remarkable glimpse into what it means to be Canadian. The latter is the US ambassador to Canada, whom we met this morning at the US embassy when we were there for a lecture from state department officials and others. He graciously came in and talked to our group, and was so personable and kind, you'd never know that he was a big Chicago lawyer who was the #2 fundraiser for President Obama. He wanted to take a picture with us and since no one had their cameras (so we wouldn't have to go through security with them), he pulled out his cell phone to take a picture, until one his aides brought in a camera! Our focus today was on economics and politics, and in addition to having superb lectures by two of our professors, we were treated to something quite special by two politicians who surely had better things to do with their time - and never acted like it for one minute. This is why teachers should participate in study tours.

Quebec to the capital

Since my last post the Friday morning of Canada Day, much has happened. First of all - that was a parade I heard out my window (considering my hotel was across from city hall), and I hit it just at the right time, just as some very important person (the mayor? the provincial governor? who knows?) was saying some very important words in French that I could not understand one bit of, but I'm sure it was a fantastic speech. The best part, however, is that after his speech the military men dressed in their red uniforms with those funny throw-back British furry hats tucked down to their eyes - began marching in the streets, along with what can only be described as the coolest mascot ever -- a long-haired white goat! While I have no idea why there is a goat as part of their formal marching crew, or what was done to the goat so that it never made a sound during the ordeal, it was quite a site to see. Sorry sis - I have no pictures because my SD card has an error and I only brought the one (gasp!) but I took some video that I'll upload soon. The slideshow is someone else's Flickr photostream of QC. In addition to goat, there were so many other unique Quebec moments:

• eating at the only Moroccan restaurant in the city and having the very kind owner describe me as a "Fesia Jamila" (translation: beautiful woman from Fes) ... btw - how do Moroccan restaurants function in a French environment? you are served butter with your bread and you have to bring your own wine - as a good Muslim he won't serve it, but he'll pour and open it for you!


• walking around with the masses of Canadians who came to QC for the holiday - such a festive atmosphere -- until I went into a T-shirt shop and the owner was very nice and was telling me how he hated these days - not because of the crowds, but because of the crowds of country bumpkins it brought to the city, "stupid people from the province," he called them - so I guess the old urban vs. rural divide exists everywhere


• running into the nicest, smartest 12 year old I've ever met - Justine - who set up a lemonade stand - complete with signs in English - explaining that she was raising money to go on a school trip to Greece next year - she obliged me by letting me film a short video of her talking to my students - this one definitely won't be put online, but I can't wait to show American high school students how important it is for them to learn another language


• walking the perimeter of the old city on top of the walls of the Citadele - breathtaking!


• feeling the Will & Kate vibe (they were in QC the day after I left) and buying a chic chic hat that will probably only fly if I attend a swanky British garden party :)


• attending a free rock concert in the courtyard of the history museum (just because it was Canada Day?? who knows) and apparently there was some comedy thrown in with it - because all of a sudden the lead singers would do some wacky solo and everyone was laughing - I'm sure it was hilarious if you understood it!


• deciphering the Montreal Metro and making it to my hotel in one piece


• finding yet another Moroccan restaurant in Montreal and arriving just in time to see the belly dancer (not a Moroccan artform, but fun) perform just before the server (who was Tunisian) brought the bread and butter (!!) - but the best part was that the cook was Moroccan - and the harira was reminiscent of what we had on the rooftop at Foumzguit


• Making it back through the subway labrynth with my heavy bags and barely making it on time for my train to Ottawa


• four days of not much convesation - and lots of introspection - which I've decided is one of the benefits of traveling alone in a place where you don't know the language ... you actually get to just be with yourself, and not be bothered by the noise around you or the conversation people are having on their phones or anything else - it's just a nice time think


• finally getting to Ottawa and joining the teacher group - I think this will be a really fun class

Happy Canada Day!

Yep - July 1 is Canada Day, which perhaps explains why it sounds as if there is a parade going on outside my window. I wandered leisurely through this 400-year-old city last night, and wished I weren't alone, as it is so romantic. If you have a chance to visit, come with someone you love - or even want to fall in love with! I'm so glad I made the decision to get a hotel within the walled city. My plan today is to just continue strolling up and down the cobblestone streets, and visiting nearby sites, such as the Plains of Abraham and stopping for lunch at a Moroccan restaurant I found last night when I noticed the word "Sahara" on a sign. :) Don't worry sis - I'll post pics soon - but right now I'm just enjoying living in the moment!

tgfw

If tgif lets us embrace the end of the week, (as well as a good cheeseburger), then I think tgfw should become our new saying every time we encounter wifi - especially when it's free - as it is right now on Canada's ViaRail line from Montreal to Quebec City. How convenient that I can actually be posting in real time, and not just typing out my random thoughts to be shared at a later date. And while I'm on the subject of convenience, let me say that I had a first last night on my Air Canada flight - a power source and USB port in the back of the seat in front of me, right on either side of the screen! Now, maybe I'm behind the times and everyone has witnessed this, but I've flown at least four times in the past year, and this was the first I had seen that setup. My first taste of on-board wifi just came in March with a flight to Tucson, and although I didn't use it, I have to admit I was happy to see it. Now that I'm constantly online thanks to my MLIS program, it is nice to have convenience at every turn. And as I'm sitting on the train, exhausted but not wanting to sleep because I'd miss the scenery (and that was the whole purpose of taking the train instead of flying), I really appreciate it. So, speaking of scenery, here are some quick observations - lush, green, flat farmland just outside of Montreal, with a few quaint towns so far. It's a weird mix of Seattle lushness and Indiana flatness, with French in the background. Too bad I don't know how to say more than "petit soya vanill latte" because my middle-aged seatmate doesn't know English and seemed to be disappointed at not having any conversation on this three-hour ride. I took out my phrasebook and muddled through "I'm a school librarian traveling from Idaho," which brought a polite smile, followed by a nap. :) Despite the lack of communication, I'm so glad I'm here. Just having a different language in the background is enough to satisfy my desire to experience something new and different, even if it is "just Canada" and just for a few days.

Montreal!

Finally! After 12 hours sitting in the Pheonix airport, then going to LAX for a red eye in order to get here one day late - I feel like I just stepped off a trans-Atlantic flight! I'm exhausted, but so anxious to get out and explore. After a short train ride to Quebec City, I'm looking forward to getting out and stretching my legs on cobblestone streets. It's definitely cooler here than in Pheonix yesterday - it's raining a bit and I had to dig out my jacket while I waiting for the bus from the airport. It's funny how after only two years I had forgotten all the funny little things I learned about Canada the last time I was here - like which coin is referred to a loonie and that Tim Horton's (Timmy's) is on every corner, and that pancakes are referred to in many places as "American" pancakes. It reminds me of the couple we met while in Montana who said they come down every once in a while in order to savor pancakes. Imagine what Grandpa Merritt's sourdough recipe could do to revolutionize the Canadian breakfast industry! ha ha. My eggs and bacon order came with a crepe, but instead of being handed jam as I expected, maple syrup came with it. I was a bit disgruntled until I remembered that I am in the maple capitol of the world. If only the Tosh kids could have seen the enormous maple rolls and donuts in the patisserie here in the train station - they'd leave Texas for good! My few words of garbled French (or the attempt thereof) are pointless, really, as everyone speaks English. I knew that, but I still want(ed) to try. I successfully ordered a soy latte in French, but was still given a look of disdain. Ah . . . to be an ignorant, unilingual American. . . but then I made up for it in a gift shop with a Chinese owner. I didn't think about it - when she handed me the change for my purchase of a Quebec flag, I instinctively said, "shieh shieh." She grinned so big and we had a conversation about why I knew Chinese. Doing so took no effort, felt natural, and makes me want to go back to Chinese. There's just something about that first foreign language (I don't know if German counts for me) that feels so natural and makes me homesick for Taiwan. Maybe that's next summer's adventure. For now, I'm off to catch the train to QC...

New Adventure

While heading to Canada for 10 days certainly does not feel like the adventure that a month in Morocco brought last summer, I still feel energized (even with only two hours of sleep last night and 12 hours stuck in the Pheonix airport). I can't wait to get into Montreal tomorrow morning and hop a train to Quebec City - reportedly the most romantic city in North America (it's a shame I'm all alone for such a trip). After a few days on my own in Montreal and QC, I'll meet up with the Study Canada teacher group in Ottawa, where we'll explore Parliament, the US Embassy, and as many sights as we can in five days. In the meantime, I'm excited to be on my own for a few days and to try and use as many French phrases as I can remember from last summer's French mini-immersion in Morocco, with the help, of course, of a trusty phrasebook. I know English is spoken in the touristy areas of these two cities, but I really want to try . . .

I splurged on a quaint, old hotel within the old walls of QC, and plan to explore every cobblestone street and as much cafe culture as possible. The only exception will be Montreal's La Couscouserie on Saturday night - sure to be a Moroccan treat! I expect to eat my weight in delicious tagine and drink mint tea until I'm buzzing. It'll take me back to a year ago, traveling in Maroc, only without the melon stop in the middle of the Sahara when it was at least 120 degrees!

The final days

In a word, Morocco is paradise. I'm about five hours away from leaving the hotel in Casablanca and heading to the airport, and I'm so sad. Dinner was a bittersweet mix of everyone's funniest memories and fondest farewells. Stargazing in the Sahara, having so much fun in Marrakesh that you (Tara) lose your pants (!!), connecting with kids in tiny L'Mahamid, having no communication skills in either French, Berber or Arabic, yet still getting your point across on a human level. These are all the things I will miss. I'm grateful for my new friends, both Moroccan and American, and my new-found love of this place that is such a dynamic mixture of new and old, urban and rural, traditional and progressive. Like Kim said, it'll take a year just to synthesize and put into perspective everything we learned here, laughed about here, and are now tearing up over. I only hope we'll make that 1st anniversary reunion in Boston/Boulder actually happen. Being in the calmest, most charming, quaintest of all places in Morocco yesterday (Essouiria -- my favorite city by the sea), I dreaded coming back to Casa today, and can't believe that exactly a month ago I wished we had more time in the cities and couldn't fathom what we'd be learning while focusing on the south. How stupid I was. Sure, each place has something to teach us, but it's in the south that we saw true hospitality, warmth, and friendship. Jake, just say the word when you're ready to buy that Moroccan timeshare - we might have to fight over whether it's Ifni or Essouiria, but either way, I'm in on it, brother! And when you and Bill and I create our NGO that promotes education/sports/internationalism amongst kids -- or whatever we settle on -- we'll use that condo as homebase. Shukran Bizzef to three of the craziest Berbers we'll ever have the pleasure to befriend. And an even Grander Shukran thrown in for good measure, Abdullah. We will return to this place, -- Maghreb, Maroc, Morocco -- if not physically, at least spiritually for a long, long, time. En shallah. Layla Saida. "Pray to Allah but tie up your camels."

Days 23-26ish????

Agadir. Hmmm. Where to begin? Essentially, it felt like we left Morocco for two days and headed off to a European vacation on the beach. There are soooo many Europeans that come to Agadir for a cheap beach vacation that I was actually looking forward to leaving the beachside resort and heading BACK to Morocco. An earthquake in the 60s leveled the town and it was rebuilt in hideous 60s/70s architecture, with lots of beachside hotels, casinos, souvenier shops, etc. We were treated to a 5 star hotel, which, I admit had its perks - one of which was the hotel spa (complete with relaxing Moroccan hammam treatment - steam, traditional scrub down, etc.) and massage. And the food was actually good - so there were perks, don't get me wrong. And for those that wanted to swim, the pool was a luxury. However, I was so *^%^% happy when we hit the road and headed for the mountains on our way to Marrakesh. More later when we get to the coast tonight

Days 17-22 . . . maybe??

As you can see, it's easy to lose track of time when you're in paradise. ;) It's been a while since free time and a decent wifi connection happened in the same place, and part of me is ok with that. My last post feels like an eternity ago, as it was our first morning in L'Mahamid, the tiny village of Aomar's family. We spent that day sweltering in 125 F heat, and although some people had to check into the hotel for health purposes, the majority of us just sweated it out and were rewarded by the evening's cool breezes and desert sunset. The next day, when we were out visiting a local women's cooperative, Aomar's brothers had the "Village Depot" guy come by and install ceiling fans in the living room. :) Can you even imagine permanently changing something in your house to accommodate guests? Yet another example of Moroccan hospitality. Despite the almost unbearable daytime heat in the village, our time was spent surrounded by laughter, special family moments, and an abundance of great food. The women taught us how to make couscous (kudos to Michelle for jumping in and burning her hands to demonstrate the process) and to Bill for daring to come into the womens' realm. I think he has a new female fan club in the village! Two more nights on the roof gave us stunning views of starry nights and amazing morning walks where we all (women) turned every head in town (the same way a bunch of Moroccans walking suddenly walking around New Meadows would!) It was truly sad to have to say goodbye to the Boum clan, and I'm only speaking for us who had cooked and cleaned and played and laughed with them for three days. I can't imagine how it felt for Tara who has become like an adopted member of the family, and certainly for Aomar himself. Leaving L'Mahamid and the Foum Zguid area was especially bitter, as we then headed to the armpit of Morocco, the place where even Aomar said was only necessary as an overnight stop before we toured the ruins of Jewish settlements in the Akka area. Tata may sound exotic and fun, but don't be fooled! It's only purpose is as a military outpost, being so close to the Algerian border, we had to check in with the authorities (three times) and stop at multiple guard checkpoints. The only hotel in town had bedbugs (or something that bit half of us into submission) and the pool was filled with murky water. Let's just say that Tata won't ever be revisited by any of us. We were so thrilled the next day to leave the armpit and experience the cool ocean breezes of Plage Blanche (the white beach that really isn't, but is at least clean) near Gulmime, and only my second ocean experience (the other was in the south China Sea when I lived in Taiwan!) My east coast travel mates laughed at that one, as they finally felt like home and the Jersey shore were within reach. :) The Gulmime camel market (I foolishly stood in the middle of a moving herd with my camera - unknowingly) provided interesting insight into such a part of Moroccan life. Only 1,000 USD for a nice camel - and I hear it's tastier than lamb and low in cholesterol! Some people got to experience the Gulmime camel fest that night, but Tara took four of us to an amazing evening of henna with her friends. The most incredibly talented artists I've ever seen took henna and decorated our hands and feet in beautiful, geometric patterns. Six hours later and with gooey toes, we wrapped up in tp for the night and have done our best to slather olive oil in order to keep the dye dark. I hope you can still see some of it when I get home. It was so refreshing to finally spend some girl time - haning out talking to women our age and status, finding them to be so similar - married, taking care of kids, contributing to their families, etc. The teenage brother came in briefly to load up on food from our feast, show us a family album slideshow and play tunes from his personal playlist - like teenage boys anywhere! Of course, the tunes were Saharawi, but no matter. Tara's Gulmime family comes from the group of souther Moroccans known for speaking Haasania Arabic, and were until the 70s a nomadic family who now enjoys wealth and status in the community, the father being called, simply, "The poet" even by his own children. Tara's research on Hassania oral poetry led her to spend weeks living with and interviewing this amazing man who uses ancient traditions to keep his culture alive. The past two nights here in the coastal town of Sidi Ifni, a Spanish colony until 1969, provided such a change from camels, villages, and heat. We all want to retire here on the coast! More tonight when we get to Touradent - the Land cruisers are loading up!

Day 15, or 16, or ??

It's been an almost surreal 12 hours, as we finally arrived in Foum-Zguid - Boumy's town - "BoomTown" far off the paved road and anything we've experienced so far. We sat on the roof - the coolest place in the house and were served first tea, coffee, cookies and pastries, then a full meal, complete with salad, chicken, goat, bread, etc., all so flavorful. Imagine the most tender, juicy meat - that was the goat. Boumy was so excited to be here amongst his family - his mom is in her 70s and dad is 93, and they both still climbed the stairs to the roof with ease. Boumy was glowing as we stepped out of the cars and he kissed his mother's head - a sign of ultimate respect given to an elder. Cousins, siblings, nieces, nephews and friends surrounded the two as we were warmly welcomed and led upstairs to our feast. It is a cement block building, with one bathroom, a kitchen, large living room, large open dirt floor room where much of the cleaning of dishes, etc., is done, along with a couple of bedrooms down below and the roof terrace. This morning a few of us women (the men had to sleep in another house on the roof) got up early to help make the bread for breakfast. Imagine me crouched on a tile floor, sweat pouring from my forehead as I burn my finger prints off and unknowingly flip hot oil on the women seated near me. The dough was made fresh this morning, kneaded over and over - great job Ellie! - then patted into squared and fried in olive oil. Let's just say I gave the women a good laugh and a bit of a sting as I tried to master the art of flipping hot dough with my hands. They finally gave me a spoon. ;) We're here for two more nights, and will soon be seeing local schools with Boumy's nephew and brother who are both educators. I only hope I get to help the women do more work today!

Jersey Bill's addendum

James and Brian!

Hi Boys I hope yo are well. I miss you like crazy, crazy, crazy. LAst
night we watched that wolrd cup final soccer game that took place in S
Africa. It was so much fun here is what is going on now...

It is onward today! Destination? Foum Zguid. This isa is small
community. A village of an economy based on medicinal cures, salves.
Witch doctor like?maybe. Many pharmaceutical companies send
representatives here to study their methods, often under disguise! And
then? they take it back to the States, Canada, replicate, package,
shelve, and sell it---- making a handsome killing. Beleive it or not,
Viagra is one such possible drug that was taken from here in the most
recent years.

I will be staying with a village family. Taking on the
responsibilities of the male village members. there are talks of
slaugtering a goat, building part of a "Loh" architectural style home.
We will see how this story of Morocco continues to evolve...

Days 12-14???

We've quickly learned that Dr. Aomar Boum's (Boomy's) description of a 3-hour car ride from one city to the next is not exactly accurate. Let's just say that we left Zagoura - the last stop for the caravans as they made their 52-day camel journey to Tombouctou - at somewhere around 9:00 a.m. and arrived about 12 hours later. What took place in between was an endless mixture of surreal moments, breathtaking landscapes and unforgettable inside jokes. Melon stop, anyone? We passed through multiple small villages, listening to everything from Moroccan rap with its mixture of English/French/Arabic to Bonnie Raitt, all while passing donkey carts and earthen houses. Crazy. After eating lunch in a kazbah (and me falling asleep afterward - was it from the 46 degree heat or too much Berber whiskey? -- another inside joke - it's just mint tea), we made our way onto a dirt road headed down into a canyon into a different kind of oasis - a desert waterfall. After taking a refreshing dip in our clothes and the boys swimming with the melon to chill it (picture three adult men playing catch with a huge watermelon), we ate MORE melon and thoroughly enjoyed this much-needed rest from the car. Not too far back on the main highway we had car problems (or maybe it was driver Miloud's excuse for another break?) and ended up stopping by the side of the hghway, overlooking a cliff and had the craziest, most spontaneous dance party on the rocks! Everyone jammed out to Michael Jackson, Mambo #5, etc., while waving to every passing car and Babel bus (we were on the highway from that scene in the movie where Cate Blanchett gets shot) that passed by. I can only imagine what the passengers were thinking! We finally made it to Ourzazette, home of our three Berber drivers, and had a fantastic meal at Abdullah's home. It was so good, in fact, that we gave up dinner at the hotel (worst pasta ever, but better than another tagine), and went back for the leftovers the next evening. Moroccan hostpitality is never-ending, as is American craziness. Thanks to Jersey Bill, we ended the night with an obnoxiously loud game of Jenga-lah (our new favorite made-up word for Jenga). We finally had shopping time yesterday and bought more Moroccan potions and creams than the guys knew ever existed and spent HOURS bargaining for Berber carpets (kudos to Jake for being our new best shopping girlfriend - you rock!) Last night's World Cup final was an unexpected cultural experience no one expected. The drivers took us to a local cafe where we were the only females, as if we didn't stand out enough as foreigners. It was great, though, and Bill and Jake and I butchered our white T-shirts (picture to follow soon) to make Netherlands jerseys (all for not) and found our new favorite Arabic word - Hollinda - for Holland. Now that's one I can remember! We're off again today for Foumzguid (Boomy's village) where we'll have a three-day home stay and total immersion into Moroccan village life. I can't wait to do laundry in the river and shower with a bucket!

Day 11

I'm sitting in the sub-Saharan town of Zagoura where you can float in the pool and stare up at date palms, do group yoga by the pool while listening to goats in the background, and fill up on okra tagine and mint tea until you're so stuffed that all you can do is crash on the overstuffed cushions while the warm air of the desert surounds you. Each day I find myself saying, yet again, "I can't believe this is my life!" Fortunate doesn't even begin to describe the sense at being invited to no fewer than two Berber weddings (and we're only in week 2). The first one showed a very exhausted-looking, over-celebrated young woman decorated in layers of colorful shawls over her dress, and adorned by layers of jewelry and a crown made from old coins. The fact that the crazy foreign women were given a special blanket to sit on and served the first tea illustrates how important hospitality is in Morocco. Last night's wedding (with us as the "invited" crashers) had a different feel, with 12-15 couples getting married at once. What does that look like? Close off a street and have everyone in it singing and dancing - brides opposite of their grooms - and that sums up the first day of a three-day celebration. I could barely survive one wedding day, with all the stress and planning, I can't imagine three! Our days are so packed it's hard to remember to record all that we've done, but in a nutshell, in the last few days we've gone from the "erg" sand desert, riding camels into a camp, to the "reg" rock desert, where the 46 degrees Celcius of the sub-Sahara found us eating our over-ripe melon under an acacia tree. In our driver Azaddine's village of Tinghir, his family graciously fed 15 hungry Americans a four-course meal, gave us the proper nap time afterward and even put decorative henna designs on our hands - and all this is something that Moroccan families relish. It makes me want to try to be more gracious to new people I meet near my own home. Tonight we're off to tour through the oasis and see the place where the caravans left on their way to Timbuktu. It just keeps getting better each day.

Days 8, 9, 10

What a ride it's been since my last post -- literally! First we rode camels for about 6 km into the Sahara and spent the night camping out under the stars, then climbed a huge dune to watch the sunrise. I've never seen such soft sand or had such a peaceful night's sleep under the Milky Way. The ride out was a bit rough on a different camel that I swear wanted to dump me the whole way. In two days we've gone from the "desert of the sand" to the "desert of the rocks," and spent two nights in a gorge reminiscent of Zion in southern Utah - sheer red rock faces and cool mountain air. Our amazing hotel manager even took us to a Berber wedding for a while one evening. Let's just say I don't envy that bride - 3 days of celebration! After a wonderful lunch at Azadine's house, his wife put henna designs on our hands and now we all feel like the beautiful Berber women we've been so graciously surrounded by. Off to Zegoura now, where we might have wifi again. Au revoir for now.

Day 7

Short post - as we're about to head into the Sahara - we're camping in a bedouin tent in the Sahara for the 4th of July! We left the mid-Atlas for the high Atlas - about 12,000 feet. Amazingly beautiful!

Days 5 & 6

Where to start? Probably with an explanation of why there was no post yesterday. We drove from Rabat to Ifrane, a resort town in the mid-Atlas mountains built by the French for their summer homes. It's surreal here - it looks like we're in Switzerland. The streets are wide, clean, and there are sidewalks everywhere. Al-Ahkwayan University, leader Aomar's alma mater, is this beautiful, spread out campus with manicured lawns, terra cotta tiles, and gorgeous Moroccan tilework everywhere. We sat in on an architectural history class given by an American professor to American college students here for a summer program, and learned so much about French architectural influence during the colonial period. Also, here's a bit of trivia - did you know that the movie Casablanca was supposed to be called Algiers? The Pentagon informed Hollywood of its plans to land in Morocco (Operation Torch), and they changed the plot and title to reflect the military plan . . . and the rest is history. Would Bogie have sounded as suave asking Ilsa why she had returned to Algiers?

It was young Omar from Michigan's 24th birthday (our leader has the same name) so after figuring out how to wish him well in Arabic -- eid milad said -- maybe?? (I find that if I don't write it down at the time or use it every day, it's quickly forgotten!) and also discovering that it was our driver Azzadine's birthday, the evening revolved around celebration. As we're in a college town, and a more liberal one at that, bars and nightclubs seem commonplace. Let's just say that our big group of Americans walking into a night club attracts attention, especially since it was an underground, hole in the wall college techno joint called - and I'm not even making this up - The Library Club!! It felt good to dance the night away, since exercise has been limited, as we seem to go from meal to lecture to driving to meal to lecture. I didn't expect to even be able to consume alcohol in this predominantly Muslim country (until I read in the guidebook about the vineyards created by the French- which we drove through yesterday - but just as in every other religion, there are conservatives and moderates, and what some "devout" people do doesn't always mean it's the way of everyone else. I bet we can all think of our local examples.

Today was packed, with two history lectures in the morning - I'm learning more about the Saharan problem than I ever knew I didn't know. Ever wondered why there's a grey (literally) area on world maps, just south of Morocco? Google "Western Sahara" or "Saharawi" to find out more - it's much too complicated for this little blog. Lunch was by far the first highlight of the day, as it was couscous Friday!!! It turns out that this elaborate dish is usually only made on Fridays, so that's now going to be our standard meal at the end of the week. We pulled into a gas station and went into a big back room with couches and cushions and low, round tables, where big platters of couscous, chicken, and lamb were placed in front of us and we learned how to eat it in traditional Moroccan style- with our hands! You scoop up some veggies, a little meat, a lot of couscous and sort of make a ball with it, then plop it in your mouth. Talk about a delicious mess! The day only got better when we then went to see monkeys in the mountains and got some great pictures of them eating from people's hands, and unfortunately, also picking through the myriad of wrappers left behind by tourists. Ever seen a monkey eat Fritos? I have. I'll try to post some monkey pics tomorrow. We then continued our drive through various mountain villages and farming areas - the kinds of places where the donkey is the beast of burden and also the prized mode of transport. I just can't wait until we're in the south where we can get out and meet villagers and have our homestay. We're off to a new city tomorrow -- Errichea (sp), then we'll spend Sunday camping in the desert, followed by a sunrise camel ride. That's right . . . I'm spending the 4th of July camping in the Sahara!

Day 4 - Rabat

Off to the capital today, Rabat, in our Land Cruiser with our very adept driver, Azadine. One thing I'm loving so far is that we'll spend the month touring via three Land Cruisers, not a huge tour bus, so it feels so much more personal to be on street level. Of course, it's also then quite a rush to sit in the front seat and see how close you come to getting in a wreck, over and over again (but the funny thing is, we have yet to see one). Rabat is smaller -- only about a million people, cleaner, and we saw blue sky today (and also lots of car dealerships). We had four very engaging lectures today, one by the President of the Human Rights Commission (someone who was himself imprisoned for 11 years for being part of an anti-monarchy Marxist/Leninist group in the 70s), and then from experts on the history of Judaism and Christianity in Morocco. To sum it up, let's just say that both have very long traditions in Morocco, and that both are practiced freely. The details beyond that are too complicated for a blog, but it's important to note that the sometimes prevalent Western view of all Muslims disliking / disagreeing with all Jews is completely false. One the of speakers, a professor, reminded us that being Jewish is not synonomous with being Israeli. Food for thought. We're off to Ifrane tomorrow, where it supposedly will be a bit cooler near the mountains.

Days 1-2-3 of my month-long journey in Morocco (thanks to the University of Arizona's Center for Middle Eastern Studies and the Fulbright-Hays program): I had three seats to myself on the flight from Minneapolis to Paris (good news in a bad economy?), so I was rested and ready to go when I got to the Casablanca airport. Thanks to Hicham, my friendly local taxi driver / tour guide, I got a tour of the city on the way to the hotel. We passed "Casa's California," palm tree-lined streets and huge mansions, as well as the King of Saudi Arabia's vacation home. I'm sure I'll have one like it someday. :) The traffic is horendous, and we almost collided with a Land Rover and a donkey cart at the same time. We had an interesting talk about everything from Moroccan history (the airport area was the US base during WWII) to how Moroccan women make lousy girlfriends because they're too greedy. He made me promise to pass on his business card to any of my single friends, although I tried to assure him that American women weren't his answer to high-maintenance Moroccan girls. After settling into the hotel by myself (I got here a day ahead of the group), I went to a local seafood restaurant and did my best to decipher the French on the menu. As it turns out, pommes frites was the only thing I could read! The nice waiter then brought me an English menu so I could order more than just carbs. The jet lag hit me at 3 a.m. and I had a glance at all of the street vendors firing up their stoves to cook breakfast for the dock workers headed to work at the port across the street. It's nice to be so close to the water and to smell the sea air from the Atlantic. Early this afternoon the group arrived in 3 Land Rovers (yay - no tour bus for the month!) and we set out to eat a yummy Moroccan lunch and begin siteseeing. Kudos go to Bill from New Jersey for bravely ordering sheep brains and cleaning the dish - I admire your sense of adventure, although I can't quite replicate it. Visiting Hassan II Mosque after lunch (largest mosque outside of Mecca, holds up to 600,000 people), it was easy to feel so insignificant next to this huge, ornate building. I only wish we could have toured inside. Our afternoon coffee came by the seashore on the patio of KFC - gotta love the colonel's worldwide influence! Watching the Spain/Portugal game in the hotel, with cheers in French, Arabic, and other languages was great fun, and I can hardly wait to see what the upcoming month will bring! Off to the capital city, Rabat, tomorrow.