Allahu Akbar, Indeed

Hello, faithful followers. This will be my final dispatch from Morocco, though, who knows, maybe later in 2010 I will be able to travel again to foreign lands, and you will be interested in the journey.

I haven't made any major progess on my midlife crisis (i.e. deciding what to do during the second half of my time on earth), but I do feel extraordinarily rested and my mind is pleasantly empty. Morocco has been the perfect setting: absorbing, safe, visually thrilling, and just crazy enough to prevent me from conducting any serious thinking.

I will return to the U.S. this coming Saturday, insha'Allah, and after reacclimating (e.g. having to prepare my own food, make my own bed, do my own laundry), I will begin to explore some ideas about the future.

For now, let me tell you about my final destination in Morocco, the resort city of Agadir. Most independent travel guides dismiss Agadir, because it is a modern city (rebuilt in the 1960's after an earthquake killed just about everyone who lived there), without alot of charm. However, I found it just a wonderful place to end my sojourn in Morocco. I was able to revel in the natural beauty of the setting, and spent hours watching foreigners and locals strolling on the beach and boardwalk in various stages of dress, undress and overdress. Agadir is simply a happy place, where people of all stripes and nationalities swim, walk, body surf, go to the zoo, eat ice cream and just relax in the warm breezes. Five blocks in from the beach, and it becomes a littered, dumpy city, but...that's Morocco!

The bus trip to Agadir from Essaouira (see previous blog) was a bit hair-raising. Naturally, I chose to sit on the side of the bus nearest the ocean, but this was also a perfect location to see how treacherous the journey was, with the bus winding precipitously close to sheer cliffs, unwitting pedestrians and hapless farm animals. Once again, the landscape was different from anywhere else that I'd seen: scrubby mountains covered with thuya trees, and towns tucked into lush river valleys.

Agadir itself is spread around a half-moon bay, with a wide red sand beach and boardwalk-style promenade. Tourist hotels (some very exclusive) line the beach, as do small restaurants, including the everpresent McDonalds. There's also a large port, which you can see in the foreground of this picture.

Above the city stands the original ancient kasbah, which was the only part of the area not destroyed in the earthquake, and below it you see, formed by stones, the national motto of "Allah, Al WaTah, Al Malik" or "God, King, Country." It's an interesting order of priorities, I think, especially that the king is before the country!

Near the beach, there's a small zoo called "Vallee des Oiseaux" or "Valley of the Birds," where visitors can enjoy a playground, buy cotton candy, view various exotic birds and receive henna tatoos.

Agadir's sister city is Olhao, in Portugal. High up in the city, away from the beach, there's a park called Jardin de Olhao, that honors the relationship between the cities, and that shows off Berber architecture and masonry.

This gate shows how Berbers (or Amazigh, as they call themselves) use flat, slate-like stones to create elaborate walls. About half of the people in Morocco are Berbers; the other half are Arabs. There's a growing movement to teach Berber languages (there are three used in Morocco) and alphabet in schools.

The word Berber is derived from "Barbarians," which is how European merchants and colonizers referred to native Moroccans. This is insulting of course, which is why Berbers want to be called Amazigh, or "free men." The ruling dynasty in Morocco has been Arab for some time, but today's king, Mohammed VI, is no dummy, and he married a Berber woman to unite the country.


Flora, fauna and history aside, it's the people that were most amazing to me in Agadir. During the day, the beach was populated with sunburned European tourists, including families and even gay couples. But later in the day, as the temperature went down, the Moroccan (and I think Saudi) tourists began their swimming and promenading.

The women for the most part stay fully covered, even as they wade into the water with their children.

Here two women watch their kids from afar, guarding the big bouncy balls they bought at the zoo.

Here's an extended family, all dressed up, wearing leather shoes and silk caftans, relaxing together and making cell phone calls as the sun goes down.
The sunset seemed to go on forever, and the evening call to prayer emanating from various local mosques added to the poignancy of the moment. What a great place and time to reflect on all that has been given to me here in Morocco: peace, friendship, understanding and more than anything, a wonderful empty space in which to leave behind my stresses and frustations and failings!

During the next two days, I'll wrap things up with my English class (having visited my baby boys at the orphanage last week for one final smoochathon) and will try to figure out how in the world to bring back everything I've purchased in only two checked bags and a carry-on!

Thanks for paying attention to this blog. It's been a great pleasure to share what I've seen and learned here. It's a new year in the Islamic calendar, too, so let me bid "Sana Saida" to all - Happy 1431! I will see many of you soon, and hope to remain connected to all the rest.

B'salaamah.

Happy Start to the New Year: Essaouira

Happy New Year! Please consider this picture my 2010 greeting card to all, as "Saida" means "happy" in Arabic, and well, this gull kind of looks like a dove, right?


I returned late last night from a four-day jaunt to the southwest coast of Morocco, where I traveled to escape the wintry rain and wind of Rabat. My first stop was yet another fabulous beach town, Essaouira, and then I moved on to the tourist favorite Agadir. Both cities are pretty far away from my home base in Rabat, and far from each other. All told, I was on trains and buses for about 25 hours of the four days, but really enjoyed the passing scenery and the company of fellow travelers.

Essaouira is a hippie favorite, because it's low key, warm, friendly, exotic, quite removed from the rest of the country, and seemingly the world at large. Most of the time, the town enjoys a rather stiff wind blowing in from the sea, and consequently is popular with wind- and kite-surfers. In the winter, Essaouira is apparently also a favorite hangout of junkies, n'er-do-wells and various perverts, but they seemed to stay indoors during the day!


I did see lots of European and American people in their twenties, sporting unusual combinations of Rastafarian/Moroccan garb and hairstyles, looking bedraggled, but content.


Once again, the small blue fishing boats dominated the waterfront scene. (In the background you see the ramparts and bastions commissioned by the local sultan in the mid 18th century, but designed by a famous French military architect.)

The fisherman seem quite accustomed to foreigners staring down at them from the docks as they conduct their business. The man in this next picture is pushing the boats apart, moving his boat out from the tangle of moored vessels, so that he could load it up with baited lines, and then head out to open water.

I was stupified by the warm air and peaceful setting, so hung out at the docks watching the activity for almost two of the five daylight hours I had alloted to see the town.

Now if I had been looking for a peaceful setting of the eternal kind, there's the Christian cemetery just outside the gates of the old medina. The gravestones there date back to the 1800's, but others are as new as June of 2009. Some of the people interred there are clearly Portuguese, Dutch and French officials or merchants (and their wives), but I guess today's non-Moroccans (non-Muslims) who find themselves drawn to this quirky spot also need a final resting place.

While in Essaouira, I also shopped for wooden items made from the local "thuya" tree, a hardwood that Moroccans use for charcoal, carving, inlay and to feed their goats. (I actually saw, on my way to Agadir, with my own eyes, goats that had climbed way up into the thuya trees to nibble on the upper leaves.) Essaouira is also one of the few places in Morocco where you can get interesting paintings (as pictorial art tends to be undeveloped in Muslim countries), so I bought just a wee one, and was able to talk with the Berber artist.

I spent less than 24 hours in Essaouira, but it was worth the effort to spend the first day of 2010 in such a low-stress and pretty place. Next blog: Agadir, haven for European tourists in need of a mid-winter break and site of the most fantastic sunset I've ever seen. B'salaamah.