Marra-catchin' some SUN!

So after our whole lives were changed for the better by the desert and the rain and the camels and the random Disney sing-a-long (if you're lost, read this post), we went back to Marrakesh to soak up all of the Morocco we could in our last couple of days. Enjoy the over abundance of photos! (I JUST CAN'T HELP IT.)

in the hostel post-desert with old friends and new!*

Ana (Carmen's friend from Spain), Carmen, Louise, moi, Lottie, Mary, Emily

ladies at dinner (I, once more, had pastilla)*

courtyard in the Palais Bahia, a palace built in the 19th century (seen in the following photos as well)

(Please note: not our stroller.)*

On to the marché des épices (spice market)

This really great vendor gave us tea and Berber lipstick and the low-down on everything in the shop, and then Lottie and I ended up buying more tea than we meant to because he was so nice. Are you noticing a trend with us?*

calèches (carriages)

Need a tajine... or forty?

secret passageway to get to the Saadian Tombs, which conveniently led through this shop*

Then we went to the Saadian Tombs, which are tombs & graves from the Saadi dynasty. The tombs date to the end of the 16th century.

Moroccan turtle

inside the building where the sultan Ahmad al-Mansur is buried

more shops

I'm sorry, I got kind of obsessed with doorways.

next stop: Musée de Marrakesh

I just love this.

I love the colors in this one.

in the museum courtyard

We then headed to the nearby Ben Youssef Madrasa, which was formerly an Islamic boys' school, but is now just a historical site.

It was just gorgeous. We really fell in love with the architecture that we saw this day; between the Bahia Palace, the Saadian Tombs, the Museum of Marrakesh, and the Ben Youssef school, we were just in awe of the beautiful detail in Moroccan architecture. It was very different than the architecture in all of places I've been.

Back to the markets!

This cat is clearly VIP.

Place Jeema el Fna at sunset

The Jeema el Fna transforms itself at night as a jillion food stalls pop up out of nowhere and set themselves up in the center. It's hustling and bustling and and it smells delicious and there's smoke from grills and annoying men from each stall trying to get you to come and eat at their stall... "Number 14!" "Number 52!" "Number 84!" It's a pretty interesting experience.

We finally chose one because the guy was funny. That's how we make our decisions up in here.*

MEAT. And.... orange juice? Just roll with it. It was delish.

Our food stall! Check out Lottie the vegetarian's facial expression near all that meat!

Turns out we all got these bracelets! Moroccan friendship bracelets, apparently. Only mine got lost a day later.

We headed to a restaurant with a little belly dancing spectacle... Emily was brave!

... and so was Violeta!

This is my attempt at being artistic.

While strolling the souks on our last day, I got distracted by tiny animals. Turtles and chameleons. Can you see all the chameleons?

Annnnnd then, while Emily and Lottie were buying incense, I found a friend. Well, two. The chameleon owner... and the baby chameleon.*

Then we were all BFFs with all of our chameleons. And the guy took me aside and told me all about how I he could tell I have a great soul and a good sense of humor and I would go far in life. It was pretty intense. And weird. But kind.*

We switched it up from our typical thé à la menthe to some super fresh fruit juice in celebration of the lovely warmth the sun was throwin' our way.

And then, as we had the whole terrace to ourselves and no one could see, we shed our layers and spent our last hour in Marrakesh relaxing and sunbathing while looking over the Jeema el Fna once more. Ahhhhhhh lovely.*

As this was my first time to experience an Islamic/Arab country, I have some (surprise!) cultural observations and reflections.

1) Gender: A few days into the trip, I realized that I saw almost no Moroccan women. There were plenty of women around, but they were all tourists. The shops in the souks and the stalls and the hostel and the restaurants were all manned by, well, men. The only Moroccan women I saw were either giving henna tattoos, cleaning the hostel once a day, or (occasionally) just walking around, but usually with children. It was interesting to see how women clearly have a different role in Moroccan society than they do in the western world, obviously limited to a more home & family-centric role.

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2) Interactions between Locals & Tourists: I’ve mentioned that Moroccan markets don’t have prices and are based entirely on bargaining. I haven’t mentioned that shop owners will do/say anything as you pass by to get you to come look at their merchandise. Anything ranging from naming random objects in their stores in French or English - “Scarves! Scarves!” while pointing to a scarf (like we can’t see them), to telling you they’ll give you “Good price, best price!” (on what?!), to naming a specific object - “Shoes!” “Tajine!” “Lamps!” (How do they choose what they think each individual person would want?), to just anything about you or the nationality they think you are. Examples of the last category: “Fish and chips! Fish and chips!” (If you speak English, you must be from England, right?), “Hi Spice Girls!,” “Lady Gaga!,” “Shakira!,” “Top Shop!,” “One Direction!,” etc. Then there’s the “We only say this stuff to girls” category, said/yelled by salesmen and random Moroccan men alike: “Les gazelles! Les gazelles!” (they call you gazelles, it’s weird), “Les beaux yeux” (beautiful eyes), “Magnifique” (magnificent), “Vous êtes sublimes, toutes les deux” (You’re sublime, both of you), etc. Then there’s the men who say less pleasant things at you, usually only in English. (I said “at” you and not “to” you on purpose.) The thing is, even when they say things that aren’t that nice, they kind of just…. Say it in passing. They never stop to have a confrontation. It’s as if they just want to say it just to practice speaking whatever they know in English. Or show that they can. Or maybe they don’t like white girls bustin’ up in their country. Or maybe they’re just bored. But it never felt dangerous or unsafe in any way. It was just… strange. The strange thing is that these men act like they’ve never seen a white woman in their life, but the place is crawling with white women because there are so many tourists. The whole thing is just strange. My two favorite incidents were the first day when a man yelled as Lottie and I were walking by, “I like you! I don’t know how I can, but I do!” and the last day when a man watched me help Emily and Lottie with something in a shop and then whispered as I walked by “You’re so sweet.” Both of those were just random and somewhat creepy but nice and kind of funny. Thanks, random dudes. I should also mention that the men who worked in our hostel were all Moroccan and extremely kind and not creepy in the slightest.

3) Mosques & Call to Prayer: I would really have loved to enter into a mosque, but if you’re not Muslim, you can’t. (I’m pretty sure it’s like this everywhere, but I don’t know.) Something that was much different from what I was expecting was the call to prayer (listen here), blasted over megaphones over the entire city at various times in the day (including 5 am, but luckily I never heard that one). It is EXTREMELY loud, depending on where you are, and honestly I really expected something to happen. I kind of expected people to pray right where they were. But instead I noticed… nothing. People just went on with their normal lives. I really don’t understand how it works, and I’m sure I’m missing something. Maybe people were heading to the mosques at that time but I just couldn’t tell because there were so many people.

4) French: This doesn't really have anything to do with anything else, but I really enjoyed getting to use my French in another country (beside France). I especially loved getting to use my French somewhere so exotic (to me). French is not an official language in Morocco (Arabic and Berber are the official languages), but it is widely spoken and is used on many signs and government documents. I love that French serves as a common language between me and a group of people I otherwise wouldn't be capable of communicating with in the same way. Interesting remarks about the French in Morocco: 1) They sometimes speak what I like to call Frarabic, much like Franglais. Frarabic is a mixture of French & Arabic. 2) They use the tu (informal you) form with everyone (when you'd normally use vous (formal you) in France).

Morocco was an interesting experience, different from anywhere I’ve ever been. I’d love to come back and spend more time further into the Sahara, see the beaches like Essaouira, and see more cities, especially Fez, which I’ve heard so many great things about. Colorful, flavorful, fragrant, spicy, minty, bustling, inexpensive, sunny, and warm, my first Moroccan experience was a delight!

*All of these photos stolen from Lottie, Emily, or Carmen.