Pictures

Madrid


Fresh-squeezed juice in Marrakesh


Moroccan pottery


The result of the great henna battle


Meg and a Mosque


Marrakesh by night


Berber homes


Creative door


Kasbah


That long thing hanging down in the middle is a SNAKE SKIN!!!


Tagine, anyone?


Bryan posing for the perfect facebook profile pic


We are sisters!


Ira and Yuko, the couple who completed our trekking team! The coolest, youngest looking married-for-19-years people I think I've ever met!


Check out all the sand!!


A desert scene


Moroccan mercedes!


Dunes!


Oasis


Omar, probably the safest driver in Morocco!


Sub-Saharan music


Meg gets her groove on with the Berber drums


Brahim, our camel tamer


We are SO in the Sahara!!!

TP: To flush or not to flush?

Here in Morocco a couple new rules apply when it comes to bathroom etiquette. For all future travelors, here's a rundown: One of the first things you notice about Moroccan WCs is that they frequently don't have a toilet like we're used to. I've heard Asian immigrants often have to be told not to stand on the toilet seat whilst performing their duty... The reason is because toilets in Asia are like toilets in Morocco. Contrary to popular belief, sitting on a throne is not necessarily to keep everything, you know, moving! For most of the world, one's own haunches work nicely.

[As a side note, I think Americans are the only people in the world who feel the need to use disposable, hygenic coverings in the public toilets. I'm still working on my theory as to why this is. Currently, I'm leaning towards the idea that "the art of hoover-craft-ing" is taught as a class in non-American school or something to Pre-K kids, whereas we just don't really have a comparable course in our education system...]

After you get over the confusing of entering a "toilette" and not, in fact FINDING a toilet, one must figure out how exactly this new form of toilette-ing works. Typically in Morocco there is an intimidating white, ceramic object about 2 feet sqare on the ground inside the WC. There are two "foot platforms" with traction on it, and then a modest hole positioned behind the platforms. The trick is to position yourself properly on the traction to avoid a) slipping and falling (thoroughly un-favorable and endearing event), b) keeping your trousers dry (skirts, ladies, are by far simpler than anything with legs), and c) keeping your balance without touching the walls which are typically claimed by the flies in the bathroom (talk about a challenge... let's just say when flies start dive-bombing parts of one's anatomy that doesn't usually see flies, the game gets a whole lot more interesting...)

Another hurdle in the WC process is the fact that most toilettes don't, in fact, have toilet paper. So a well-planned travelor always carries TP in a pocket... Just remember to pull the TP out BEFORE you get settled on the non-throne because otherwise there's a good chance you'll loose your balance while trying to pull it out. Some parts of the world use water to replace toilet paper. I'm not sure exactly how the natives do it in Morocco, but I do know that there is usually a bucket of water and a facet in the WC which is provided as a courtesy for the users of the toilet. The purpose of said objects is to "flush" down any errors in targeting, which also HELPS keep the odor to a minimum... And yes, I said helps, not DOES.

The title of this blog is in reference to the rare find of actually discovering a WC that is equipt with a Western toilet. Of course, the practice is still virtually the same - helicopter style at least, and actual toilet SEATS are pretty rare - but Morocco is an OLD and dry country. The pipes and plumbing were not created to deal with loads of high water pressure. Thus, one does not actually flush their toilet paper (that they had to bring themselves into the WC) once the paper has served its purpose. Instead, a garbage is provided, which collects the paper waste.

I'm currently in Spain which allows for flushing TP, and to be frank, I have to admit that it is a bit of a guilty pleasure to watch the TP disappear and swirl down the toilet bowl. The flies are less to, which is nice. But despite all of this, I've realized that having a toilette of any kind - or even just a private open space that can be used as a toilet - is not every something to be underappreciated!

Sandy Scalp and Bruised Backsides...

Hello All!

I write from an internet cafe in Rabat. The keyboard is FUNKY and the page uploading is SLOW... So sorry, no pictures and probably some mistyped words...

Since I last wrote, Bryan, Megan, and myself have been in what we call "the Morrocan time warp." We landed in Casablanca, chilled for awhile and almost missed our plane to Marrakesh because my 3 years of french is really THAT bad!!! We didn't, though, and made it to Marrakesh and safely to our hostel. Marrakesh is unlike Morocco as I have yet experienced it... the big square - I don"t remember the name even though EVERYONE repeated it to me when I asked! - is HUGE, full of henna-syringe-welding women who attack tourists and paint henna on them, stands full of handsome Moroccan men squeezing orange juice, and snake charmers with their various all-too-large snakes piping and drumming away and ready to chase down tourists who dare to take picture without paying them money. QUITE the adventure! After a couple hours of wandering around, we were happy to head back to our hostel to sleep.

Omar, our guide into the desert, met us the following morning. I don't mind putting in a shameless plug for Omar's business, so check out www.cameltrekking.com if you're ever interested in seeing some pretty amazing sand dunes and other Morrocan sites... Omar is perhaps the gentlest, quietest Moroccan man I've met. A real introvert, he can go for hours without saying anything. He didn't once get impatient with our endless questions qnd chattering and asking when lunch was going to be - from Bryan - and it was obvious that he felt it was his personal responsibility to see to it that we were all well taken care of. A master of languages, Omar takes time to communicate carefully and makes the effort to point out things he believes might be interesting to his customers. One gets the impression that this isn't just a business for Omar, but also his way of sharing his beautiful desert with others. The Sahara trek would not have been NEARLY as enjoyable without him, and we had the added benefit of hanging out with another couple who also signed up for Omar's trek. Yuko and Ira have been married for almost 20 years and have traveled a great part of the world in that time. They didn't look a day over 35 and spent the whole time joking around with us and taking pictures and discussing politics and fun things.

We saw some incredible historical sights, and spent HOURS in the car, but my favorite part was when we got to the desert and Omar stopped so we could get out and take pictures. There is just so much SAND! It was windy, so the sand was blowing in our eyes and face, but it was so cool to be standing there that I didn't even care.

A close second favorite was the sheer number of stars we could see that night, lying in the middle of the desert with no city lights around. We slept in a Berber tent complete with candles and an outhouse on the other side of the camels who waited to take us out with the first light.

The other awesome part of the trek was going to a community of people who are descendents of sub-Saharan Africans whose ancestors were used as slaves by the Berbers and Arabs. They played music and danced for us using drums, a stringed instrument, and metal hand clappers. We even got to boogie with them for awhile, which was definitely a hit! Once we got to camp that night Omar's gang of men who cooked dinner and took care of us pulled out their Berber drums' which are essentially a large and small drum that one plays with their hands. The guys enjoyed playing with us and carrying on a multi-lingual conversation... English, French, Spanish, Arabic, Japanese, and a little Italian. One of us would say a phrase, then we'd all try to translate it into various languages. It always amazes me how multi-lingual music is!

We spent another night in Marrakesh and made our way on the trains to Rabat today. My French gets better with each attempted conversation, and so far God has been blessing us with putting English-speakers in our path as well. We're looking forward to a day of laundry and no long transportation treks and two nights in the same bed! Don't know when the next update will come, but check back and you might be surprised at some point!