Henna

Having Henna applied is a tradition usually performed prior to one's wedding day. As we were not married in Morocco, Lalla Fatima missed out on this ceremony. So...here we are! Note my new gold given to me as the henna was applied...gorgeous stuff, but I don't know how I will dare wear it in my "real" life. Bling times a zillion!!!


The process took hours and hours. My backside lost all feeling eventually, in spite of the piles of cusions I was given. I was treated like a precious, fragile, pampered Queen all day, too. Samir was even forced to hand-feed me! Bahahaha!!! A girl could get used to this treatment...

Once the henna was all applied and dried to a tacky consistency, they applied a mixture of water, sugar, and black pepper with cotton. After that air-dried, my hands and feet were covered in cotton and silk stockings over the top of that.

24 hours later......

All finished! The designs turned out very dark...tradition holds that the darker the designs turn out, the more one is loved by her husband.

Samir must loooooooove me!

More of A Day of Sightseeing

Moulay La Chat

A couple hundred years ago (although people here discuss events in time as though they are recent happenings, rather than ancient events), a man died leaving his entire estate to his cats. To this day, only cats live here at the Moulay La Chat, although residents of Rabat are welcomed by the cats on a daily basis to relax with them in their garden (and bring them food).

Sprite and Moroccan bread are served while we await our lunch of barbecue.

Beautiful decor within the cafe...although, one wonders why the aquarium holds no fish...

The cafe is built right into the Rabat city wall.

A Day of Sightseeing

The City of Rabat

A typical busy day within the city walls of Rabat. Shops and vendors of all types are on both sides of the narrow streets, and people are everywhere.


The Mosque in Rabat is built right into the city walls. The men are leaving after the midday prayer time.

Outside the "Sunday Gate" of Rabat; so named because, traditionally, mobile souks (compared to a farmer's market) were set up in front of different cities and their gates on certain days of the week.

Uncle Mustapha walking into the Sunday Gate of the City of Rabat.

This apartment building located just outside the city walls of Rabat is where Samir lived the first few years of his life. The second floor from the top was his family's flat.

The Marjane, a chain of WalMart-type stores, is the first of its kind in Morocco.

The City of Sale

This gate is called the Sale Harbor, because the river used to flow right up to the city of Sale centuries ago.

The main city wall of Sale (meaning "Salt," and pronounced Sall-A).

A Trip To the Beach

The neighborhood facing the beach in Kenitra is a picturesque jumble of homes and cafes.

My first Moroccan trip to an African Cafe. Steamed milk is served in the china cup, with three lumps of sugar and a cup of strong espresso on the side. One adds sugar and espresso to taste. Yummmmmm....

Samir making a phone call to a friend as we enjoy our coffee (his Sprite) in the cafe overlooking the Atlantic Ocean.

My first touch of the Atlantic. So warm!!!

My nameless dromedary friend. To ride him cost 20 dirhams (about $2 U.S.).

Morning Time

It is very difficult for me to know when to get up in the morning, and not simply because of the 7 hour time difference from California, either.

My bedroom is in a separate part of the house, and the windows in my in-law's home all have these amazing wooden shutters that block out all the light and sound from outside when they are closed. From the level of light and sound in the room with me, it could be 2 AM or noon. Flip a coin.

Another issue I am having is the extreme level of comfort....seriously, this bed makes me feel as if I never want to wake up! The mattress is firm, yet it wraps itself around me like a full body smooshy hug. The sheets are heavy cotton, and must have a thread count of like a billion!! All of the bedding has been washed by hand on a scrub board with this amazing smelling soap (I have got to bring some soap home!), and dried outside on the roof-patio. Don't even get me started on the pillows...suffice it to say I feel like I've died and actually made it to Heaven when I am snuggled in my bed here!

Once I do wake up, I make my toilette (No, not TMI---this simply means I wash my face, comb my hair, get dressed, put on light make-up, ect...), and then head to the kitchen for pastry with a hazelnut-chocolate spread (way better than Nutella), eggs, cheese, fruit, and coffee.

May I tell you about the coffee in Morocco. Oh. My. God. I will actually give up Starbuck's for this stuff!!!!!! I am bringing the beans, orange blossom water, cinnamon (it is actually the cinnamon tree bark; I have never seen this type before), sugar (yes, very different from American sugar), and the pot to make it in home with me. Come on over when I return and try some!

After breakfast, I try to help clean up. I am scolded and sent away. Especially today; Friday is the day Lalla Fatima has a maid come in to clean and do the laundry. I feel awkward with both of them rushing around cleaning. I tried to pick up a dust rag, and I was practically pushed onto the couch by these two tiny women and given my laptop. LOL...OK, so here I sit.

Samir telephoned the airport this morning. It seems 2 of our 3 bags have made it. One large bag is mine, and two smaller ones are Samir's. I do hope one of the bags are mine (I'm selfish like that after a few days). Samir and Uncle Mustapha have gone to Casablanca (2 hour drive, one way) to pick them up.

I realllly want my own clothes....

Shopping in the Souk

Twice a day, we go to the Souk (a market-bazaar: like those shops near Fisherman's Wharf in San Francisco, just built into the wall with a huge door to pull down and lock at the close of the business day) to buy what is needed for the next meal. One stop for vegetables, one for fruit, one for bread, and yet another for meat.

Yesterday, Lalla Fatima (my mother-in-law) and I walked to some little shops in the neighborhood. Today, Uncle Mustapha (my father-in-law) drove us to a larger Souk area because I needed to buy some wardrobe essentials (still no baggage...).

I was so brave!!!! I didn't gasp in terror during the drive at all...ok, maybe just once. Or twice. But, seriously, that's it! And, when we zig-zagged across the street after parking the car (no space to park? No problem! Just pull up on the sidewalk! There ya go!), I simply stared straight ahead and gripped Lalla Fatima's hand, trusting her to guide us away from certain death.

Walking down the street (one where cars, thankfully, do not fit- just watch out for careening bicyclers) I experienced a kalaidascope of sounds, colors, and the smells of spices and herbs. Everyone was smiling and greeting one another with kisses. Men, women, children, cats, dogs...LIFE, you know? I said to Uncle Mustapha, "I smell mint, and...what is that other smell?"

He replied, "Absinthe, also for tea." Absinthe??? Like as in The Green Fairy Absinthe???? He laughed, "Oh, you know absinthe, hm? They do not have absinthe in the U.S., correct? This is not the liquor, just the herb. Would you like to try?"

Do Fairies have wings???? Yes Yes YES!! Yummo! It tastes kinda like anise (licorice). No, I have not hallucinated. More's the pity. lol...

We went to another stall, where I made my purchases. A bag full of undergarments for less than $10 US!!! Amazing...and the quality of the items are very high. I would have spent more than $50 at home for similar items...and I am sure the American salesperson would not have hugged me and kissed both my cheeks before I left my local Macy's!

We stopped for some other items: A new djellaba of blue silk with white embroidery...a beautiful green pashmina...some bread...some beef and apples...and home for lunch and a nap.

Lovely.

Mes vacances vers le Maroc - entrée 1 de journal intime

My Vacation to Morocco - Diary Entry 1

The Journey

I have arrived in Morocco...I am still experiencing the effects of jet lag, but let me begin to record my travel experiences.

Our flight left from Sacramento at 6:30 AM PST. The flight to Atlanta was a little rough, and there was some concern that the flight from ATL to Barcelona might be delayed due to the storms in the southern US. In fact, as we were sitting in the waiting area, HLN was on the TV stating "Atlanta Underwater!" Luckily, during our 3 hour layover the thunder and lightning stopped and the rain grew light, so we took off only about 1/2 hour late, at about 6:30 PM EST.

The trans-atlantic flight was uneventful, and took just over 9 hours. I was rather disappointed it was dark, as I wanted to have my first glimpse of the Atlantic ocean. The plane was only about 3/4 full, so Samir and I were able to share a row of 3 seats alone, and took alternating cat naps in each other's laps.

The service on Delta/AirFrance was warmly exceptional. Every few hours we were served snacks (biscotti, pretzels, fruit, etc...) or a meal (Dinner: teriyaki chicken, rice, carrots, and a roll; Breakfast: Egg and cheese on an English muffin, fruit), and given soda/water/coffee/tea upon request. We had 4 pillows and 6 blankets!

The best part of this leg of our journey was our individual televisions installed in the seats before us. The headphones provided by the airline were poor, but the ones we brought from home worked beautifully. I watched 2 movies- The Hangover (hilarious!) and Sunshine Cleaning Company (tragically funny). I also watched several episodes of Will & Grace, Friends, The United States of Tara, and a fascinating documentary on Global Warming. It was lovely to be able to choose whatever I wanted to watch, and there were many, many choices.

Upon arrival in Barcelona, things became confusing. Because of our slight delay, we had only an hour to find our connecting flight. The airport is a bit old, and a little dingy. We could not find anyone who would help us very much, and all the signs were in Spanish. We both speak a little Spanish, Samir much more so than I. However, you could tell they knew we were not Spanish, and they thought we were silly and/or stupid. Really made me feel aware of how it feels to be a stranger in a strange land. Food for thought....and fuel for compassion.

At any rate, I am a happy happy girl, because as we went through the gates between the arrival and departure areas, my passport received its very first stamp!!!!

Somehow, with our barely literate Spanish, we followed signs and we found our gate on time to make it onto the airplane for our 1- 1/2 hour flight to Paris/Charles de Gaulle Aeroport. Whew!

Upon arrival in France (yes, you are reading this correctly...in our endeavor to save some money, we went through Barcelona, Spain (nearly next door to Morocco), THEN went North to France, and THEN back south to Morocco. Rookie mistake; and one that will not be repeated. Added hours to the trip...hours NOT worth $600.), things were easier, as Samir is most comfortable with the French language. I, however, am not...so I clung to him! The people were very very sweet, and I will be forever grateful to the nice woman who helped me to order my mochaccino, and count my Euros to pay.

Our layover in Paris was about 2 hours (I acquired passport stamp number two!), and we spent them people watching. Everyone is so chic and fascinating! We were both exhausted, and I was getting on Samir's nerves a bit making comments about the people we saw. Sometimes you just need a girl to be snarky with, and he just wasn't getting it! Sigh...

Finally, it was time to board the plane for the final leg of our journey....after we rode a sloooooowwwww shuttle bus across the tarmac, standing crowded bum-to-elbow with about a zillion of our fellow travellers. Again, I was glad Samir is so thoroughly literate in French-I would have been positively panic-stricken when we walked through the airport gate, down the stairs, crammed into a bus, and driven around what appeared to be a circle for 15 minutes...only to then inexplicably wait inside the bus (sans air conditioning) with the doors closed for another 15 minutes or so, before the doors whooshed open and we climbed up 3 flights of stairs to the entrance of our plane. I felt as if I were on the way to Auschwich or somewhere equally terrifying...

This was a beautiful flight: I could see the Atlantic Ocean, the impossibly blue Mediterranean Sea, and the cities and farms of France and Spain. We enjoyed a lunch of cold chicken, polenta, salad, brie cheese, crackers, baguettes, and a wonderful little apple/cranberry tart. We flew over Gibralter, and then I saw the coast of Africa below me! Amazing....and to think, it was 4 PM in Africa - yet it was only 10 AM home in California.

Casablanca/Mohamed V Aeroport. We went through immigration (another Stamp-Yay me!!), about an hour-long process. I have no idea what transpired, as Samir handled the conversation in Arabic. I was only the giver and recipient of many nods, smiles, and deferential bows.

Then, we walked into the baggage claim area, where about 10 men with carts raced each other to offer us assistance. Samir chose one man with a nice smile, and off we went to the baggage carousel...where our three bags were NOT found. Seriously.

It seems our luggage stayed behind in Gay Paree. Nice. Luckily, we each had brought a carry-on with essentials: a change of underwear, shirts, and pajamas, some meds, and the bare minimum of toiletries (including my makeup and curling iron-WHEW!). Also, our laptops (one for us, one a gift for his dad), camera, and a few books for me.

Then we proceded outside to find Samir's parents. The weather was breezy and cool (think a warm summer evening near the beach in San Diego). His parents grabbed us in hugs and kisses, and Mama held my hand in the car the whole two hour drive to Kenitra.

The drive was exciting, to say the least!!! The posted speed limit in most places seemed to be 120 km...that's roughly 76 mph!!! Imagine how fast we were traveling....I mean, do YOU drive more than the posted speed limit? Whoosh-Zoom! The highway was busy, no one on the road was wearing seatbelts (except me!), and the painted lanes on the road appeared to be merely suggestions; and suggestions not religeously taken, I might add. People on foot and on bicycles and mopeds criss-crossed and went along side the road at random. Surreal! Think: Mr. Toad's Wild Ride come to life!

And, yet, nobody is nervous in the least! No one but me and my white knuckles, that is...lol

More next time...I am going to sleep now, hoping that our luggage arrives tomorrow.