Well we decided to catch a ferry over to Tanger in Morocco from Spain. The very nice hostel man showed us where we could buy tickets and where to go to find the ferry. Algecirus is pretty dead around that time of the year I guess. The ferry itself is ginormous and I was considering going downstairs to where the cars were to stalk people until we found someone going to Casablanca. Unfortunately access to the car was minimal. I suppose they have people like me… I mean so what if it’s illegal to hitchhike. It’s not like the Mediterranean belongs to any country in particular. After I gave up, I decided to take it upon myself to put on all my wet underwear. You see, it’s very difficult to wash and dry clothes when it’s cold and wet. There’s just no good opportunity. I hung my clothes out to dry all night and they still weren’t dry in the morning. So, I went to the restroom and proceeded to put on 5 pairs of wet underwear. I mean what better way to dry your own underwear than using your own heat?
On my way back to my seat, with all five pairs on, a woman started freaking out on the boat, yelling about the waves. Of course it was in Spanish and we had to have someone translate it into French. It was actually quite funny - I mean you think boat… and you immediatly think waves. Boat. Waves. Well maybe it’s more like Boat. Water. Waves. But either way, you get the same end result. It wasn’t quite so funny when she started attacking crew members. I was a little freaked out and stayed in my seat. No way I was gonna get between her and her target. What would I have said had I intervened? No habla espagnol? Sempray! I don’t even know what it means. It might even be Catalune for all I know. I could break out in song about La Rosa… it includes a naughty word that I won’t mention. I only know it because the guys obsessively sang it while everyone was drunk on New Year’s.
Finally the crew confined her to the upstairs where no one was allowed to go… when suddenly a slew of men rescued her from the evil Sea Captains. I mean forget the fact that she was the one attacking crew members. If I was that captain I would have had her ass arrested. What a very nice man. So she, being her pushy self, was off first - but not before bitching some more before she left the boat. I think everyone breathed a sigh of relief when that door opened. Nichole and I got off the boat and we headed over to the police chief, and he sent us to a bank to exchange our euros. As we were walking out, a cute Asian couple was stalking us in hopes to grab a taxi together to the train station (the police chief had told them about us). We were like sure! Cheaper for us! And they were so gosh-darned cute! They were Chinese and studying in the UK. Didn’t know a lick of french. So we all just barely made it to the 5 o’ clock train.
After walking down an endless number of cabins, we finally found a cabin where all four of us could sit and it happened to be with some young Moroccan boys. Now, I can say young because I was older than all of them. And Nichole was just their age. And we all talked… a little in English but mostly in French, with Nichole and I translating for the Chinese couple. It was rather congenial until they started fighting over Nichole. I was like thanks guys. Makes me feel really special! But I can understand, Nichole is tall and slender and cute, and incredibly friendly. She reminds me of my swim teacher back at Salem. And they were also all much closer to her age. I think i just went over some unspoken age hump. Somehow 23 seems closer to old-fart than college graduate. I, of course mentioned this, and I think one tried to make me feel better but in the end they all really wanted Nichole, it just became obnoxious. We exchanged emails and took pictures. They still haven’t sent those to me btw. Yet they incessantly im me when I’m online. Give it a break guys, she doesn’t get on MSN.
The cute Chinese couple and Nichole and I took off to find a super cheap hotel in Casablanca. We saw the Chinese couple off that night after grabbing a bite to eat, and said if we ran into them the next day we’d figure out what they were doing and what we were doing. Nichole and I were pretty excited because we were on top of our game. We would get our visas and maybe stick around and see some of Casablanca before taking off the next day to Marakech. But, unbenownst to us, it was a damn Friday. Fridays are different in the Muslim world than in the Christian world. Friday is the holy day and everything closes early. No visa for us.
Next logical step: we took off for the train station and headed straight away to Marrakech (am I even spelling it right?). On the platform, (le quaie - pronounced “kai”…before I knew the word, I was like quay? Sounds like a duck with a lisp) we met an American and a Frenchman. They were very good friends and were roommates back over in the states. They were also geeky and strange overall. Apparently the french guy kept touching Nichole’s leg, but I missed that part. They said they would help us find the hostel place and we were like ok! It’s not like Nichole and I knew anything about Marrakech - or any other place we went to. So, we separated out, me with the dorky American, and Nichole with the sleezy french guy. Well, I got very concerned when they didn’t show up for awhile - oh and it was raining. Considering the guy was sleezy and all I wasn’t sure I should have let her go with him alone, but they finally arrived and I was relieved. After, that I swore we would stick together. But they ended up being very nice and showing us where all the hostels were.
Once we were settled in a hostel, we explored the area a little, and went to bed early. The rain didn’t permit us to do much. We were freezing and wet by the time we got back from dinner, so we decided maybe the next day we’d have some better luck. Well, no such luck came. We went out in the morning to see the carts of fruits and veggies. We went to the Museum of Marrakech which was beautiful but not much. Prolly why it only cost a dollar to get in. Of course, everything is so cheap there, it would be every American consumer’s dream! Everything, from touristy items to shipping them home was cheap cheap cheap. I was pretty ecstatic. After the museum, we decided to try a movie because it was pouring rain again by lunchtime. So we went and saw Resident Evil Apocalypse, and surprise surprise we actually bought two movies, but we didn’t find out till the second movie started. And it was so cheap!
Before Resident Evil started, a guy started talking to us when we were waiting in line to grab a little snack. He then ended up coming over, and inviting us to sit with him and his two friends and we were like no, thanks. So, he decided to sit next to us. Nichole and I were not too happy, and we felt we showed it by purposely speaking in English so he couldn’t understand. Then, one of the security guys came up and started yelling at him and forced him and his friends out. Nichole and I could only assume it was because they were in the wrong seating section, but we were so utterly grateful. We then were able to watch the movies in peace. Oh and omg… the second movie, I think it was called “Plan” was hysterical. It was about four Backstreet boy-like boys who came to a city as little puny every day guys and became hitmen for a well-respected mobster that resembled Bruce Willis in Spin City… but not quite as intimidating. And I swear every time a new fighting scene would come up, they would show each Backstreet boy posing his best and well-dressed. It was hysterical, I couldn’t help laughing through the entire film.
The next day, we were looking through shops - and were enamored by all of the trinkets and such. Of course, we were also practically robbed by the Moroccans when we found out later the actual prices for our purchases. Never had I felt so foolish and just plain stupid. I will call it robbed because there is no other word can really describe it. So after we were robbed in a store, we found an American sitting in another store, so we sat with him and hung out for awhile. We listened to the stories of all the different rugs and received a brief history lesson of Morocco. It was a good time, so afterward we asked him if he wanted to grab a bite to eat and we went to a nearby restaurant. He was a very interesting man, he worked for a prominent spiritual man, and was very happy with his work. He actually ended up showing us around Marrakech because he had just received a tour. It was really kind of him to visit all of the places he had already visited, and even provided some interesting facts about the museums. I was like man what a neat guy! We decided to meet up the next day to go looking around for some other neat areas in the medina.
The next day we met up at a restaurant, and while we were waiting for the check…. lo and behold who but the Chinese couple walked out of the hotel that was right next to the restaurant! I was like hey! We owe you 15 derums (which is like $1.50) and they said not to worry about it. So we sat with them and chatted with them, and gave our goodbyes for good, and then set off for the medina.
I swear, I could have spent a month in the medina and not be satisfied. At one point, a younger boy showed us where all the dye-ing area - where the dyed cloth. As we walked by each place, all the persons were covered in the dye they specialized in. It was quite funny looking in each new shop to see a person dyed a color. So, after saying our goodbyes to Steve, we headed back for Casablanca. At Casa, we finally got our visas, and there waiting outside was a little Irishman. He was going to Gambia and was looking to hitch a ride with someone. That someone turned out to be me and Nichole. We finally got our visas and we were good to go! We figured we’d head out the next morning. But that day, while we were there, we decided to take Steve’s suggestion and go to a Hammam. It’s like a spa I guess. We decided to go for a pretty big package - I think it was like 30$ and boy were we spoiled!! They poored all this hot water on (it felt so good because I had been so cold) and proceeded to rub all the dead skin off my body. After that, the woman put on a coat of mud all over me, and then wrapped me up in a big plastic bag. I felt like a caterpillar in a coccoon. After washing it all off, they put me in a jacuzzi and I hung out in there for awhile. Next came the massage, and it felt so good. I’m such a sucker for massages. Finally, we showered and rested.
The next day, I had huge issues. I thought I had lost all the underwear clean underwear I had been cleaning and wearing. I mean how do you just lose 5 pairs of underwear. I was like Nichole, the cleaning lady totally stole my chocolate covered oreos. I was very angry about this when I figured it out and I still hold a grudge. You just don’t get between me and my chocolate covered oreos. Luckily, they could be replaced, but I was SO pissed. It would only follow, of course, that the cleaning person had stolen my underwear, it’s the only logical conclusion. Of course, they were just under my sheet bundled up. But still.
Today was also Tabasky. Everything was closed, so we stayed at a cafe where the manager gave us the best service… and then tried to convince us to come to his place for Tabasky and we were like thanks, but no. Lucky for us there were buses still running, and we took off for the bus that left for Dahkla. Of course, the most embarrassing thing happened. I went to go to sleep in the back, and I would switch back and forth putting my legs across the aisle and curling them up on the seats. It was so uncomfortable lying across those seats but my legs didn’t like being curled up for extended periods of time. So one time, I put them out across the aisle again on the other seat and I felt something. In my fatigued state, I figured I must have been imaging things. So again, I moved my feet a bit more and I felt something again! I sat up quickly and found that the other bus driver was sitting there! I mumbled an apology quickly and pulled my feet back. But then he moved and insisted on me putting my feet back out. But short of having a foot fetish, what was he thinking?? I mean he must have seen and felt that I had put my feet there. Why he didn’t a) move or b) move my feet is beyond me. What’s worse, my feet
reeked due to lack of good source to do laundry. I was wearing socks I had been wearing every day for weeks. They smelled horribly. Of course, it didn’t stop me from making myself comfy on the bus. I still think that guy was just plain creepy. Maybe he had a thing for foot odors?
While we were on the bus, we were also approached by a Mauritanian guy. I think he was creepy to this day, but he proved to be quite helpful and genereous. When we got off at Dahkla he had a car waiting to take us to and through the border. Us included an Italian that had also been on the bus, the Irishboy, and Nichole and I. He took us to two of us friends’ places where we were fed well and were able to rest and watch tv. It was so nice. Unfortunately for them, we had to take our shoes off to enter the living room. I was wondering to myself, which is more offensive? Taking my shoes off or not taking them off? At one place, they sprayed perfume on everyone but I was absolutely sure it was due to the staunchy odor coming from the feet of none other than Nichole and I. The Italian got out and stayed in Nouadhibou but the rest of trekked on.
We made it safely to Nouakchatt. I slept most of the way. We had picked up the Mauritanian’s car and we had a nice drive through the desert. When I was asleep he asked if I slept this much all the time, which was really quite funny because I had slept a lot with no explanation. Nichole let him know that it was the “medicalements” that were making me so tired. He then proceeded to offer her a house and all this stuff… implying he could either be her sugardaddy or marry her. I thought it was quite funny till he hit on me.
We got back to his place, and he provided us with such good food. But then, Nichole and Keanie (Irish guy) were taking showers/getting dressed he made his move. I was sitting there innocently watching tv when he struck up a conversation. He said you know we could be together. I said no thanks, I’m not interested. He said I don’t think you understand what I’m talking about. We don’t have to love each other but we can love each other. This is all in French btw, so I’m trying to explain that I do understand and I’m not interested. Then he got really frustrated and said I didn’t understand at all. So I went back to watching tv. I felt creeped out so I ran to the bathroom to get a shower as soon as it was available. I mean seriously, who hits on someone who hasn’t showered in 3 days? I was so gross, and my clothes… we won’t even go there. Of course the water pressure has to stop working when I go to use the toilet. I tried so hard to figure out how to flush it and it just didn’t work. This was going to stink by the morning, but I couldn’t do anything. So I took a shower in the freezing water, but at least I was clean. So I went to bed and didn’t come out till the morning. I didn’t want to talk to him again, it just creeped me out. (Plus, I was afraid he’d mention the fact that his bathroom reeked. ) It’s even creepier when they hit on you and are already being generous. You partly wonder if you’re obligated, but I wouldn’t obligate myself to anyone. If guys don’t have a chance in the states, what makes em think I’d go for them in a much more restrictive society, such as Mauritania? Guys can’t even acknowledge girls, especially taken ones. Although I fully respect it, I’d never want to live in it on a permanent basis.
So, the next morning he set us off on route to Senegal, and we got to Senegal safely. Keanie and I made it back to Dakar by that night, and I was a happy camper. I had a day to relax before school started. Of course, now school is on strike and I won’t have to go for a couple of weeks. I’m thinking about taking a trip to Casamance, but apparently there might be trouble there. I’m not sure, I heard it through the grapevine so I’m gonna have to check out the news. I’m sure it’s safe, but I guess you can never be too cautious. Well that’s my eventful trip over x-mas break. Now I can get back to discussing daily Dakar life, which includes obsessive amounts of grilled cheese sandwiches (made by yours truly) and coke. Tukkikat says mew. She was sick last week, she had some type of problem with her kidneys, so she had to get lots of shots. She couldn’t eat anything and she was just withering away. Poor thing. But now she’s bounced back and stronger and more annoying than ever. So that’s the update for now!
