Observations

Monday, June 27, 2011
Our final morning in Essaouira.
I sit here in the room looking out at the drab architecture, the dirty, run down streets. There is a cool ocean breeze passing through the room. Outside the flock of seagulls laugh and laugh. The roosters join in on the cacophony and I find myself also laughing. A comedy club with a world of laughter around us.
The most valuable pastime for us in Morocco has been sitting in open cafes, drinking mint tea and watching people. We have spent hours doing this.
Observations….
Men carry their babies and their children. Women (in most cases) appear to be happy, engaged in their families and enjoying the pleasure of an outing.
The beach scene is alive! Groups of men and boys play soccer on full length soccer fields they have drawn in the sand. These games seem to be somewhat serious yet filled with laughter and encouragement.
Soccer, gymnastics, dancing, singing, playing, swimming, running, stretching. The beach is an active place. A lively place. A happy place. It feels more free and active than our beaches do in the United States.
Without alcohol, people find other ways to enjoy time together. Mint tea is consumed by the gallon here. Beginning at breakfast and served until bed time, everyone is drinking mint tea. It is a dark tea – with a strong flavor filled with fresh mint. It is served in a tea pot filled with herbs of all sorts. When poured into small glasses, it is best to have some finesse to add a nice froth on top.
I so enjoy seeing groups of teenagers or young men happily singing and clapping as they walk down the streets. Music is in their souls and it isn’t unusual at all for a group of cool looking kids to start singing and clapping. It takes restraint not to join in, but when we have, we were welcomed with warm smiles.
Men hold hands, put their arms around each other, greet one another with kisses. Women sit in circles and talk.
Children steel french-fries from unassuming tourists’ plates.
Many people where strange, pointy yellow shoes… I just can’t figure this out. In all cases, shoes appear to be a size too small, with the heals hanging out of the back.
Cafes are for locals, restaurants are for tourists. The restaurants are nearly always empty. I can only guess that this is because the Moroccans cannot afford to eat out. Their yearly average income is less than $2000.00 per year.
Every single price is negotiable. Moroccans are extremely good at negotiating. Duarte and I are not. It is exhausting.
Arabic is the language of choice, then French, then Spanish…not English. Duarte speaks very good French. Thank Allah.
The guys selling baked goods on the beach (yum) also sell hash. Geez.
There are many people buying comforters. Why? It’s so hot here.
Animals do not appear to be very well treated in Morocco. I saw a baby donkey yesterday wondering the street all by itself. It seemed that it was off to explore the world. A few moments later it passed by us again heading home and ee-awwing nervously. I really want to take that donkey home with me but I don’t think I could get it through customs and Marrakech is not the place for a donkey! Donkey are worked hard there, with little water in the immense heat.
Oh, I could go on and on. Duarte and I watch and then talk at length about all of the many things we see around us. Trying to make sense of it all is a great part of the adventure. I wonder if we will ever travel to a place so different from any place we have ever seen or known in the future? We’ll certainly return to Morocco but the first visit to such a place is certainly the most profound visit.
We are off to Marrakech…again.