One month later, I am finally getting to my Morocco blogs. It's fun to look back on everything I did in this North African country.
Casablanca: June 4-6, 2010
After a week in Madrid, it was time to change locations for the second half of our USD MBA trip. Mabela and I wanted to get a jump start on Morocco, so we planned a quick weekend visit to Casablanca. This was my first time in Morocco, as well as my first time in Africa. (The rest of our classmates took an organized group trip to southern Spain, where we had both already been, and the plan was for everyone to meet up in Marrakesh on Sunday.)
When the two of us touched down in Morocco for the first time, we both experienced some culture shock. I had been to one partly Muslim country last year, Malaysia, but I knew Morocco would be quite different. Morocco is 95% Muslim and 5% Jewish, so I figured we would see a lot of traditionally dressed Muslims, and we did!
Mabela and I dressed conservatively for our trip, but we still encountered many strange and curious looks. We made our way to the train station in the airport to get into the city, trying not to stare at all the covered faces. Casablanca is the main international airport as well as the main business and commerce city of Morocco. Right away, we had a difficult time communicating with everyone. Morocco has 2 official languages: Arabic and French. We speak neither! Sometimes Spanish would work, since Casablanca is in northern Morocco, which is close to Spain. The two countries are only separated by about 15k of water. We bought two train tickets to the Casa Port station, and the adventures began. We ran to the train station, hoping to make the 7pm departure, but the train was just leaving as we arrived. Trains depart to 2 major train stations every hour, Casa Voyeur and Casa Port, so we had to wait for the 8pm train…Then, it didn’t help that we got on the WRONG train at 8pm! *Flash back to Vietnam 2009 when Nicole & I slept through the wakeup call on our sleeper train & got stuck on the train heading back the wrong way! So not good with trains!*
Back to Casablanca...Everyone in the station was boarding and there was limited signage so we followed along. After we were well on our way, the train personnel came by to check our tickets. After looking at mine, he began speaking dynamically to me in French. I don’t understand French, but I was getting the feeling that he was trying to communicate “wrong train.” Luckily, a young man behind us got up to help, and luckily, he also spoke French, Arabic, AND Spanish. He translated for us, and we figured out that we should get off at the main stop – Casa Voyeur, and take a taxi into town. The other option was to switch trains somewhere else, but after passing several remote, sketchy looking small stations along the way, we decided to go with option one. It was nearly dark at that point, and the language barrier would have made things too difficult if we got lost.
We arrived to our hotel safely, and found that it was in an old part of town. We didn’t know any better and had just booked a cheap hotel near the “city center.” (This was the OLD city center.) The staff was very friendly, and the service was excellent. My only complaint was the lack of English spoken by the staff. I thought for sure it would be different at a hotel! I guess we chose the wrong place, but Mabela and I got by. We had modest accommodations, but we shared the same restaurant and lounge with a nicer hotel next door. Our first night, we dined on pizza and salad nicoise. Actually, pizza wasn’t even listed on the French-only menu, but I think it’s a universal word. Vegetarian is also similar in French as it is in English, so I was content when our vegetarian pizza and tuna salad arrived without a problem. I slept well that night, and didn’t hear too much from the nightclub downstairs. Earplugs are key when traveling!
We awoke to a call from a university professor that resides in Casablanca that was scheduled to speak to our USD group in Marrakesh on Sunday. We originally got in touch with him in San Diego to share a train or car ride with him from Casablanca to Marrakesh, and he was calling to check up on us and make sure we arrived safely. He said he would show us around Casablanca later that day, so Mabela and I made our own itinerary for the first half of the day. After a light breakfast, we got a map from our non-English speaking receptionist, who circled some of Casablanca’s highlights on the map. It took us a while to get our point across, and in the process, I made up a new word: “tourisimo!” Mabela laughed at me, and I laughed when that was the word that made him get out the map. Really? Tourisimo?
The hotel concierge assured us it was ok to walk to our first stop, the medina, which is the oldest part of the city that is completely surrounded by a high wall. The night before at dinner, we spoke to some Australians who had already spent a day in Casablanca, and they said to take a taxi everywhere. Many of you know I am “cheap” while traveling, so we decided to walk. My observations: there were men sitting and smoking in cafes everywhere, there were a few covered women hurrying around the streets, it was not a nice area of town, and driving in Casablanca looked crazy. After countless stares, we found the medina and entered the old city walls. Immediately we were approached by a man dressed in white from head to toe, who spoke amazing English! He said he wanted to show us his shop, but actually, we ended up getting a full tour of the medina. We knew we’d have to tip him in the end, but we didn’t mind. We felt more comfortable having a tour guide at this point.
At the end of our tour, even after negotiations, I still think we overpaid the guide for two necklaces and for his time. I was a bit fatigued from our last negotiation, so I was just ready to move on. Our next stop was the 3rd largest mosque in the world - Hassan II Mosque! (Mecca is the largest.)
After our tour on our way out, we had some awkward encounters with foreign men who wanted to come and talk with Mabela and me. Perhaps I should say they attempted to talk to us because their English was so bad, and/or they didn’t speak Spanish either. One thing we both understood before we left was the invitation to go have couscous with them at their mother's house. ("She makes the best couscous in all of Morocco!) Yeah right! Get lost. That was my first experience with a bad Moroccan pickup line, and in Marrakesh, they only got worse.
Another interesting note from our professor was that we were definitely staying in a hotel in the “bad” part of town. He said he wife was even afraid to drive by herself in that area. It’s funny to look back on it and laugh now, but I will definitely be informing STA travel of this since they recommended the hotel. The 3 of us went to a nice Moroccan restaurant on the coast for dinner, and let the professor order things for us to try. I actually liked most of it, especially the first course. Everything I had was seafood, but this was the last time I enjoyed seafood on the trip. I generally prefer to stick to a traditional vegetarian diet rather than a pescetarian diet when I travel. Countries have different ways of preparing meat and seafood, and it usually doesn’t sit well with me. At this dinner, however, it was good. We had good food and good conversation. Mabela and I learned a lot about Morocco, US and Morocco relations, and the Muslim culture.
Next blog - Marrakesh!
