Cairo, or the birthplace of the atonal jazz w/ car horn.

2009-07-22T05:30:00.000-07:00

You know that feeling you get when your traveling. That you have (generally) moved beyond where people know you and you an be more free (more open?). At least this is me. Not that you hold me back, but still. . .

Hanging out in Cairo is like that, but on 'roids. I assume people will guess Im supposed to be a little different anyway, so if I want to be a little extra friendly thats ok. Who doesnt like friendly? Maybe Im just fighting against stereotypes about Americans. And Egyptians are themselves so friendly and accepting. It feels just right.

But, Ive noticed I tend to try to ratchet it back when I see other (obviously) foreign people. Why? Do I assume they will be more freaked out?

The truth is, i kinda like air drums.

Story; I got off work at 5pm (9am cdt) last night and in the elevator on my way to the ground floor some very excellent Bruce Springsteen came on. Glory Days. I was about to really bust out some killer moves, thinking that the lobby would be empty and if my licks were discovered by the doorman it wasnt a great issue. I was shocked (and the beat was thrown off) by some woman standing at the front desk.

It took me two months to notice there are a half dozen little birdies in cages behind the front desk of my building. Too much ipod.

2009-06-11T01:04:00.001-07:00

I pity the fuul!

Unlike Morocco, Egypt does not seem to have a “national dish”. But, if it had to be anything, I think the winner would be fuul. Maybe its because I can make more puns with it. Maybe because it seems like it is everywhere. Maybe because no one else does it quiet like them.

Fuul. They say broad beans, but they are really talking about Hannabal Lector’s fava bean. Mashed up like refried beans. For reasons that I don’t understand they come from a huge special cooking pot that seems designed to be difficult to wash out. I am sure there are some things stirred in, I am just not clear what. A typical fuul has a little tahini on top, maybe some cumin, red pepper, lime juice, pepper, etc. Served and eaten with pita bread. Can also be shoveled into the bread for a sammie if you are in a big hurry.

There are two fuul places I would like to profile.

4 Fuuls. These guys set up their fuul cart outside my apt every morning and cater to a range of people from business men to those with a faded dirty blue collar. They dish up fuul as fast as possible and yet it seems like to get an order in you need to shout and plead. Fuul is flying, and the guys that work there seem covered in it by 9am when I show up. Brown beans drying in their hair while they work a disorganized assembly line of people stirring first one thing then another into bowls of fresh fuul. Ive always assumed that when it’s hard to even get the food, it must be good. And it is. One great part about 4 fuuls is that they lack any seating. There is one table about 2 meters long, dirty by 7am. Other seating and eating areas are rather ad hoc, and I would not advise parking your car on their corner. My favorite part is the bowl of fresh tomatoes, dill, onion, and other goodies that really freshens up the meal.

Magic Fuul. Magic because like Brigadon it appears from the mists of the Garden City. Also located within a few blocks of my apt, they roll out the car and set up sidewalk seating as the sun goes down. An excellent sit down experience, they bring several plates of side dishes to your table in addition to the main course fuul. I don’t like the fuul as much as 4 Fuuls, but fried eggplant makes pretty much any experience in life better.

2009-05-31T00:44:00.000-07:00

I went hashing this weekend. Not “that kind” of hashing. Hashing is a strange sport invented by crazy British expats so that they have an excuse to drink and maybe get some exercise.

I met a few other American grad students and we went by metro and taxi out to a strange suburban club for expats. People say I live in a “nice” neighborhood. I do. The ACE club is in a “very nice neighborhood”. About 30 people and 2 dogs rally up, vaguely find rides and head out. I thought this was a sorta casual suburban jog, and inappropriately wore my Chaco’s, which seemed like a less and less good idea the further out of town we went. Keep in mind that Cairo is like any other metro area with 14,000,000 people. It has extensive suburbs, and we were going out past the last one.

We missed a turn. “Ah! There is the marker” my driver shouts over what was either Nigerian music or reggae covers of pop. I also had missed the marker, which is understandable because it turns out to be a roll of plastic trash bags by the side of a wildly dirty and polluted road. Maybe a joke by the hashers, a group known for hilarity.

The car works its way up into a slowly growing suburban sprawl of some even nicer houses and apartments, with a terrific view of some lesser pyramids, and also about 25 brick factories whose smog shrouds the area in something more tangible than mystery.

We head off road. Or rather on a dirt track. I asked where it went, and was told “to the desert”. After about 15 mins going further and further where Chacos seem less and less a good idea, we stopped and people gathered together. I noted more than a few beers being drank.

The idea is to follow one of two desert routes from marker to marker. Originally hash marks on trees we have adapted this so flour or red lentils on the ground. What is problematic is that it can be very difficult to find one from the next so there is a good deal of starting and stopping. Add to this a some false trails. . .and you have a quick 100 min desert hike. I opted against the run, thinking I would wait until I had real shoes on, and was even remotely in shape. The entire event finishes with a rally at base with some odd “get to know the new people” moments, a beer, and suddenly Im in a Chinese buffet with 15 expats. Good food, kinda pricey, did not have the traditional desert.

The original constitution:
• To promote physical fitness among our members
• To get rid of weekend hangovers
• To acquire a good thirst and to satisfy it in beer
• To persuade the older members that they are not as old as they feel

If this doesn’t describe my life fairly well, I don’t know what does.

More information? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hash_House_Harriers

2009-05-25T03:12:00.000-07:00

So the top to my laptop is kinda loose. Not an emergency, not preventing it from working. I heard about a good computer repair person and emailed him today. This is the response I got.

"...don't worry i will be able to fix it for u if god will."

and that is just how it goes.

2009-05-23T04:45:00.001-07:00

One lesson learned in Morocco was to always try to get change. If you could take a big bill and break it down to a smaller one via some normal transaction, that was a good idea. Inevitably, the next person you buy something from will not have anything close to enough change on hand to break your seemingly huge 20dh note.

Not the case in Egypt. First, the idea of coins is only slowly catching on, with 1pound coins being the largest. After an afternoon of shopping this leaves me with pockets bulging with old well worn semi-torn pieces of paper. At home my desk is littered with piles of them, making me look like a low rent drug dealer or extortionist. Because things are so relatively cheap, yet I want to have some reasonable amount of money on hand, I have been building up huge supplies of small change and find myself in the odd position of wanting to ask someone to cash in the stack of 5pound notes for something more reasonable like a 20.

It is a very odd in which we live.

2009-05-19T10:15:00.000-07:00

I think Im hinting at something with the title of this blog, but it will probably change later. Here is a quick post about car horn use.

They love it. People in Cairo consider the horn to be useful for the follow different expressions; hi!, get out of the way, Im coming behind you, I see you, Im a police officer, You are terrible, keep driving (despite traffic being stopped), or just as a spontaneous sign of joy.

Point is, they honk all the time. All this honking sorta desensitizes people, so some horns have been changed a little to give them more notice. This sorta horn arms race has also failed as they dont really make a person any more interested.

Some people dispense with just a honk. But others are more creative. Double, or triple honks are not unheard of and are indeed common. Sometimes leaned on, sometimes short, they come in all shapes and sizes, helping sorta personalize each one for both the honker and situation.

There are some people whose apartments overlook these major streets, and I have no idea how they sleep. But, otherwise, in a lot of ways the honking isnt bad. People are more interactive. They want to let you know they are sorta there, about to come up behind you, or just say "hi". Like a lot of things here, its grounded in some level of community and expression that I find often lacking in America.

2009-05-19T02:01:00.000-07:00

Now is as good as time as any for first impressions. They say they are lasting, like psychic forever friends.

Cairo. Im sure there are green leafy places full of quiet and tranquility. I have not found them yet. Maybe a private walled garden somewhere.

This isnt to say I have done a great job in looking. Im hanging out in a hostel that is on a fairly major road, alive 24/24 and 7/7. Depends how you feel about that I guess, but it def has influenced how I view the city. A hot fuss.

The people are either as nice as Morocco, or I am more respective to their niceties. Its funny how when I was in Morocco I felt like I really needed to "integrate". But, now I feel like I can do my own thing more. So if I want to stand out a little, thats my prerogative. If that means I walk down a street that is clearly for local car parts dealers, thats ok too. I think that this balances out both sides of the equation a little better.

People have commented on the heat here. As in "hey, its going to be insanely hot scott". Im looking forward to seeing if it can beat out Morocco in July. That would be a neat trick, because Im fairly sure it would lead to spontaneous combustion.

2009-04-23T08:39:00.000-07:00

On Twitter:

You might notice Ive added the twitter thing. I feel like there were a lot of times when something interesting might happen but being either far from the computer or forgetful I might not write about it. So Im hoping to be able to tweet as interesting things and thoughts. Or at least what I think are interesting. That's the idea. Also, Oprah.

2008-01-06T07:06:00.000-08:00

One of the questions I get asked the most is "can you get me/my brother/son/newphew/grandchild/the guy standing against the wall etc a job".

The major industry in my town is house building, which is a knock-on from the housing booms in Spain. Men from my region go to Barcalona, either legally or not and get jobs on house building crews. It is simple physical work, requiring little formal education and a lot of brawn. Most importantly it pays in Euro's, which are tradeing at around 11dh (compare with 7.5USD). This money is sent back to town in cheques, and brought back on vacation and used to hire the men who are still left in town to build a new house for the family, the men on these local crews then have the money to reovate their own homes. One Euro, three homes.

Lets be clear. The people in my town need a new house as much as you do. we dont live in grass huts, and only nomads live in tents (thier choice). The homes that people have now are made of mud, and from time to time it does have some problems (namely during the brief rains), but they certainly fulfill the functional needs of homes. Importantly, thick mud walls are fairly good insulators. Walls cooled over the night will soak up heat in the summer mornings. They will also absorb sunlight in the day for release during winter nights. People use mud and packed earth to build houses in the US, its true.

But, the nature of people is often to be unsatisified with what they have, and to want better/differnt things. It causes progress, also a lot of unhappiness. People here being no exception to this rule, want bigger houses, and nicer houses but often dont know exactly what it is they are losing. For them, a nice house is one made of brick and concrete. Thats a step up, they say doesnt melt in the rain. I have never seen a house in my town fall down, nor heard of it happening here but it has happened elsewhere during times of extream precipitation. Sadly, their new brick homes have no kind of insulation at all. However, it is a great way to show how you have made it in the world (or your kids have).

The result of this is that both abroad and at home my men are surrounded by home building, so naturally any thoughts of work in the United States are shovel and trowel oritented. I have turned down a number of well meant requests to build my parents a new home, I thik they are happy with the one they have. Similarly, while I am not opposed to building a new home for myself, Id have to say "not yet". This is little deturrent to them, and I suppose it never hurt to ask.

The bigger barrier comes from the government. I have never heard of a United States company hiring a crew of Moroccan men and getting them all Visas. Sometimes I point out that America has its own unskilled work force that we pay poorly who send money back home. 150 years ago we called them "Irish". Now we call them "Mexican". Either way, its tough going, and it is a lot harder to sneak into America illegally from Morocco than from Tiajana.

2008-01-06T07:05:00.000-08:00

It is presumptius of me to think that everything around the world needs to conform to my own midwestern views. Ive been aware of this for awhile now, but I cant shake it off. There are some things like human rights that I feel are universals, and that no amount of history or tradition should stand against these. Other things are more pedestrian, like winter.

Snow should exist somewhere in winter. Im flexable, ice is an acceptable substitute. Plants should no grow in winter. This said, I talk about the "winter" weather in town ALOT. Maybe 10 time a day I say "its cold, im cold, are you cold". It is, its 55 degrees cold!

Wildflowers do not share the same ideas as I do. Its probally good, I like a diversity of openions and I like flowers. Over this last week I have watching at first the start of the yellow flowers that will soon blanket my region for a few weeks, slowly gaining speed like an avalnce that will never be here until in late March it will all disapear for another year.

One of the sign to me that winter has gone, is that smells like spring. It is the same wind as last week, but now its full of spring. It smells like fresh earth, like cool rains, like bright sunlight. This is the best smelling spring of my life. It smells like potential, and I take in deep whiffs of it as I walk though town watching plants green up and flowers comming to bud on bushs that I had walked by for the last nine months. It is a good season.

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One really strange to me thing to watch is people collecting animal forage while using a station wagon. There is no reason why people need to use the old methods of transportaion, witness our very own President Bush 42 who drives around his ranch but has few horsey skills. When the prodigical son returns from Spain, it only seems fair he should help his long suffering mother by loading his new car up with mountains of food for the goats.

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Moroccans are very particular people. Sometimes the sun is to hot, sometimes to cold. The ideal way to be during this season seems to be wrapped up in a few layers to stay warm, but sitting in the shade. I guess this cuts the amount of skin cancer, but it also seems a little...out of sync to me. I sit in the sun and love every minute of it.

2007-12-02T03:50:00.001-08:00

An Open Letter to the Old Lady Coughing Next Door:

Please do not die. I know that I am American and you are Moroccan and we do not talk much so I will make my request short and easy to understand. I do not want to bend social moors and sit down next to you on your stoop as the sun goes down, but I have grown to respect you during the last year we have been neighbors. You have seen such changes in your day, and now are left holding together a traditional life in the new house your son Braheim built for you. I am new to the neighborhood, I do not yet have your confidence and respect. I am rather doubtful of ever breaking down some of these barriers between us, but that does not make my wish any less.

I can hear you each night, as I lay in my garden and you in yours. The wall is only 9 feet high, I listen to your Al-Jazerra news and you listen to my Jay-Z. I know that each night, you wake up coughing spitting choking and I worry about you. Please do not die.

Neighborly,

Scott

2007-12-02T03:49:00.002-08:00

Gone to the Dogs:

I have writen before (or at least I intended to) about the relationship between Moroccan people and dogs. It usually is mixed but mostly mixed badly. The Koran says that dogs are unclean, and most towns end up with a lot of feral strays that get rocks thrown at them then become angry etc which only keeps the cycle going. Orne guy in town told me a long and rather convoluted description of what one must do when they have been touched by a dog, I think it included washing your cloths 7 times in the dirt. At which point, any reasonable person would just throw away those clothes.

M'ssici is a little different. Our two feral dogs are really nice. Joyfully jumping up, eager to play, desperate for human affection. We have one white one and one black one, and they sorta roam around the perefery of town sleeping though the day and being active at night. They had children.

Last week I was walking behind our kasba, when some children came out carring a big ball of fluffy white fur. Puppy. We talk about it, and as I was in a poor mood I took the dog to have someone to talk to while I was writing a text message. Its a cute dog. I think so, the kids think so. Old men think so. A concensous is reached, its cute. We walk to the edge of town where there is some cell phone reception and I think about making an adoption. Could I keep a dog? I called my friend and asked her to talk me out of it. About a half hour later, mother shows up and takes her baby back. I was a little sad to see it go, but value family so was happy to see them reunited. Also, unlike the mother, I am not lactating. But, a bond has been established.

Two days later I am coming home from a bike ride and run into a families group of children. These are the boldest children in town, some would call them just rude and ill manored, though their father is a nice guy. I am part of that some. They have the dog again. Where is mom? "She's gone!" I take puppy, drop my bike at my house then walk though town to the fields. Mistake. Now all the kids have two facts connected; foreign man and puppies. On our way, kids find me the brother puppy. Now my arms are filled with white whimping dogs and Im trying to duck excited children on our way for a mother and child reunion. I put them deep in a stand of corn figuring that mom will sniff them out. I checked back an hour later, it was rainbows and sunshine.

Im still pondering adoption. I do not mind living alone, but a little friendly puppy would be fun. At least it seems fun. Lots of friends have cats, I know another guy with a canine. AT this time of this writing, I have not seen mama, papa, or the kid for a few weeks. I hope they are safe. Updates at this spot.

2007-12-02T03:49:00.001-08:00

Elections

We recently had elecions here in Morocco. Not for King, thats a lifetime gig. Legislative elections.

As a Peace Corps volenteer I am not allowed to get involved in any of this in any way.

The election calander has very tightly structured start and stop days. We went from no campaigning to vans and trucks plastered with posters and handbilling in every cafe. Even my small town would be invaded a few times a day by workers from Rissani or Alnif affiliated with one party or another. It was good entertinment for us, thought I think some of the workers felt like they had entered the boonies.

Parties like to distinguish themselves with symbols, not much different than our donkey and elephant. The car party. The doplhin party. The open door party. The apple. The car and key. The lightbulb party (not to be confused with the oil lamp party). All in all I was told there are 33 parties in Morocco. Or 44. So many that people did not even know them all, or know how many there were.

One party (mustanges just like my highschool), ran a women who did not wear the headscarf. When they came to flyer my town the teenager down the street told me she wasnt Muslim. It should have been obvious from looking at her. Enough said on that.

Election day came and went. I was told I couldnt vote without my official government card by some over zelous poll worker. People seemed excited to vote, to participate. Women and men, which I thought was an overall good sign. Im told that the moderates won, I am not political I have no openion about that.

2007-12-02T03:48:00.001-08:00

Talk like Moroccan with your Hands!

Moroccans love to talk with their hands. Not just to provide visual cues, but to communicate real information too. Here are a few way that will have you talking (or gesturing) fluently in no time. Right is right. Left? ...it's sinister.

Hand wildly flapped over right shoulder: Something happened long ago. Ex: "Sure, I ate sweet delicous other white meat porkchops. Pan fried with some onions and apples, little fresh cracked black pepper...but that was a very long time ago"

Making like a tea pot. Pinky is the spout, thumb sticks up as handle: Tea as in "do you want me to pour you some tea"

Thumb outsteached as a bottle neck, other other fingers curled as in a fist: Beer. "Do you drink beer?". Often accumpanied by snickering, knowing looks, and a vauge sence of transgresing social order. This might have to do with the low quality of beer available or person drinking.

Thumb is a spout, hand is a fist. Tipped into the mouth: Water. "Im thirsty, please can I have some water". Also used by bored impoverished shepard children to get tourists to stop for their entertainment and enrichment.

Thumb and pointer finger making a zero: Of no value, worthless. Ex: "I do not like Merzuga. It has to many tourists and jerk faux-guides. Its a zero".

Hand extended, middle finger down: Figure it out.

Both hands in front of body, rotating at wrists. Confused look on face: What are you doing? Where have you been? Whats up?

Thumb rubbing against pointer and middle finger, palm up: Money. Lots of it.

Thumb rubbing against pointer and middle finger, palm down: Salt. As in "Please put some salt on my french fries".

Thumb under chin, forward movement: Too much or its full. Ex:"There is no space on the bus, its full" or "That jerk wanted 1000dh for the carpet. Way to much".

Pointer finger aimed at the heavens: Talkin' about the man upstairs.

Hand at temple as though making to screw a lightbulb into ones ear: Crazy. Often directed at another who is speaking, or a third party.

Stroking chin as though one has a beard: Older man, or an actual beard.

Hand on back, left on an imaginary staff, body hunched over: A very old man, or even some object very old. Ex: "You need a new cell phone Scott. Your's is very old".

Pointer finger extended and rubbing along chin cleft (for those blessed with one): Older women. Referencing facial tattoo's sported on many older females.

Both hands in front of body, moving in small circles as though one was using them to ride a bike: Bike riding. Note: Moroccans use their feet to ride, but hands to mime the motion.

Pointer finger pulling skin down under right eye: Sinful,wrong, hsuma Ex: "That guy was talking about drinking Jack Williams brand wiskey. Sinful!"

Hand in chopping motion. Hand flat, or as holding something: A whipping. Ex: "That kid through a rock at me. He needs to get wacked".

Left pointer finger, turgid. Right thumb and finger in a circle. Left is inserted into the hole formed by right: An immature way to reference a mature subject.

Throwing food into an open mouth: Food. Used all the time.

Hand in a fist, pumped enthusisticly in front of the chest: Forcefully. Often used by males to reference "the marital act", wherether under that auspice or not. Not used by females, who have no interest in that stuff anyway. :)

Hands together, under head tilted sideways: Sleep, or sleepy. Ex: "Scott, are you sleepy? Did my braying mule wake you up last night?".

Fingers coming together in a pinch. In front of ones mouth or directed: Quiet, or be quiet.

2007-12-02T03:45:00.001-08:00

When you live in a mud house a certain...comfortability with the animal kingdom developes. Im am now fairly flexable, so it brings a little smile when insect-a-phobes (i think this has a real name), come visiting. A small list of my ark.

It is my beliefe that if you have a garden in the middle of the house, and your walls more closely resemble the ant farm i got for christmas a few years ago, that ants are going to be my friend. I keep my food sealed tightly, and whatever they get to is my fault. But, ants lead to...

Roachs. I had some. I know some PCVs who employ a cat to solve their roach problem. I had a "wig out" and went a little nutter with some insecticide. It wasnt pretty, but problem solved. However...

Ive been visited by a plauge. Or at least some confused grasshoppers who would rather be devouring a field of wheat but who are despertaly bouncing around my living room. This makes them perfect prey for...

Lizards. Last year I had one lizard I named Gorden. I dont think he was a real gecko. But, sadly I found him dead and being visited by my ants. This year I have more lizards, but Im not naming them.

Bats. I had one fly in yesterday. No confusion. He flipped upside down and took a little nap in my hallway. Live and let live.

Birds. I watched one make a nest in my rafters and being rather tender hearted I let it stay. Birds wake up early, and while they were in residence so did I.

Scorpians. My friends have so many of these ghouls. I dont know whats going wrong. If anyone should have some, its me. But so far so good. I had two last summer, and one baby one this year. Thats it. T

Spiders. Not many either. I do need to get a photo of those camel spiders. Those are huge and scary. I almost walked over one in the road a few days ago and it scared the crap out of me. I found one inside my house, lets hope he does not return.

Flies. So many I lost count.

Weirdo's. There are a lot of flying, hopping, buzzing and humming bugs and I do not have a clue what they are.

2007-12-02T03:44:00.001-08:00

It was Ramadan again!

From an outside viewpoint the entire Thanksgiving to New Years time must seem pretty strange. One holiday after another blending in to a smooth commercialized campaign that runs for months.

That said, Ramadan is strange. A month of fasting during the day. No water, no food from very early (like 4am) until sundown (6pmish). Its hard. But the fast breaking is a riotous affair, with sugar and fattening foods proliferating. Its easy to see how some people put on weight during this holy month.

Im not fasting this year. I tried some last year, found it didnt strike a cord with me and did not see any reason to give it another go. Im not sure what I expected last year. Did I seek salvation, or a feeling that I was paying off some penance? Did I think it would help me grow closer to a higher power? Or closer to my town? I felt hungry and thirsty, but that is about it. People in town still like to ask me on a daily basis if I am fasting, I think for children it is just another way to be reminded of the infidel that lives down the street.

Being a luner month, a person can keep watch each night for the progress. I have never seen the moon wax and wane so slowly in my life.

2007-12-02T03:43:00.001-08:00

My parents visited my town in early june. Our timeframe was very rushed, and we only spent about 16 hours in town. Most of that time was spent in my house, cooking, sleeping, or just spending a little time together. To be honest, most people in town didnt even know they had visited, which seems to have some odd results now.

I had the following conversation in early September with ladies at the end of my street:

Me: Peace be with you!

Lady: Also with you!

Me: How are you? Your are good?

Lady: Yes, good. You?

Me: Great

Lady: Are your parents in your house?

Me: What? In my house?

Lady: Yes. Parents in your house?

Me: My parents?

Lady: Your parents.

Me: Now?

Lady: Yes. Now.

Friend of Lady: He understands nothing.

Lady: Go to the store and buy your veggies.

Me (silently): They understand nothing.

2007-09-08T02:33:00.000-07:00

I am always excited by signs of enterprising spirit in Morocco. When people sense a market niche, and provide a product or service to fill that need. The only exception might be faux-guides and touts, both of who also make me excited but with...vigor. In any case, the reason I "geek out" to such an extreme am that this happens fairly infrequently. It's not uncommon for people to sell identical products directly next door to each other, the defining difference not being the products but the people doing the selling. It's a different way of doing business I suppose, one based more on family and friendship than what exists in the US today.

As readers know (ye few but faithful), my town got electricity a few months ago. It brought a lot of changes to town, mostly a lot of refrigerators (not one for me). My second favorite (of 4) store in town was seized by some of this above spirit. Perhaps it came down in a tongue of flame; maybe it was inspiration from the mosque that is a 30second walk away. In either case, 90% of the time the owner is prone on the ground slumbering so it must have been a strong inclination that leads him to start selling homemade popsicles. Wonderfully cold, and wholesomely simple. Morocco is blessed with a lot of faux-Tang, which he pours into a tea glass and adds a small stick from a tree in front of his store. A few hours and a 10 ryals (7cents) later I am a very happy man. The sublime joy of a cold treat and a meditative walk though the date palms is hard to quantify on a law school application.

2007-08-19T04:32:00.000-07:00

When I was growing up, Salina had a small dirty place called Bogeys. Its name being an homage to Humphry Bogart, star of many classic movies including Casablanca. Bogeys was one of those odd businesses, ones that prosper enought to stay open but were slow to adopt some modern conviences. It was located down a small residential side street in an aged commercial strip. My friend Andrew's grandparents lived a few doors away, and I always thought they had cleverly picked out a wonderful location, especially for their grandchildren. I can not remember how much a vanilla cone was, but it was a convient amount for young boys to find under the sofa, slip into the lower left pocket in their cargo shorts, and zip over on a bike ride in the afternoons. The perfect word for this perfect time is halycon.

I was a fairly nieve youth, and in retrospect I have little doubt that Bogeys had its fair share goofieness. It was located near a small college, and the drinking habits of Lutherins are legend. It seems like the type of place where the afternoon fry dude was ahead of the late 90's low-fat trend and was staying baked all summer long. It was one of those places that had a venier of family friendly, yet somehow was never able to clean up that tacky feeling you could have sitting on the benches. Salina has a hyperactive health inspector, and pure bribery was the only way they could have stayed open. I find this type of activity somehow comforting. While Im sure there was some "plan" to Bogeys, the beauty was that in being left alone it had a personality that made it a home in my heart.

Casablanca (dar bidia) Morocco is not unlike Bogeys in some ways. It certainly has a tackyness to it. A certain trashiness pervades. Yet, somehow this is a different trash. This isnt clean, its not a family friendly place. Even the fry guy would be scared away. The same things (bribes, thc, etc) that a person might find so quirky their more intense incarnation down right troublesome.

I read recently that Casa was the first town in the world laid out and designed entirely by airplane. Ive known that the town was heavily built up by the French and Spanish during their time here, but this seems to confirm that the random hand that creates beauty was held back. Its not that European colonial powers make ugly things, it is just difficult for the natural forces to take over. Could this artificial additive be connected to the slums that have become so well known there? Poverty mixed with religous extreamism is an explosive combination as the town has experienced over and over.

Im not advocating that Casa be left to mellow out on its own. That the forces of international trade will give jobs to the unwashed masses. I am trying to point out that planned expansions and modern cities often seem to lack a certain connected feeling that evolves naturally in many processes. These can help make something that would be bad, into something acceptable. But if prevented can lead to determential mixes that have the opposite effect of what the planning was trying to achieve.

Besides, who ever heard of using an air plane to plan a city?

Sadly, a few years ago Bogeys built a new building, and cleaned up its act.

*****************
I spend half of the ride home today trying to use my book (globalization and its discontents) as a pillow . I spent another part serving as a pillow for the kid next to me who passed out on my shoulder with his bus ticket in his mouth.

******************
That above post sorta implise a dirtyness on the part of Moroccan people. Its not true. I think people here are much cleaner than most Americans would be in similar situations. I am sure I have the dirtiest house in town.

Also, it suggests that residences of suburban American could be prone to violence because they are not exposed to natural randomness and beauty.

2007-08-19T04:26:00.000-07:00

I want to say a few things about suicide bombers. I wanted to spend my holiday weekend in Meknes, so one can imagine my shock when I found a note in my email inbox saying that "Man Blows himself up, no one [else] hurt".

The entire idea of a suicide bomber is confusing to me. Not because I do not understand war or wanting to kill the enemey. But from a practical matter it is saying that it better for a person to wear some explosives and die in their delievery rather than just putting them in a box under his seat and walking off the bus. This would not raise an eyebrow in Morocco, and if it did people would be more intested in returning the box than thinking it might blow them up. In the second senerio the worst that could happen is the same thing that is almost assuredly going to happen in the first. I think to understand the "suicide bomber", more emphisis should be given to the first part, and not just the headline grabbing trajic results that come with the second.

In the time I have been in Morocco I think we have had 3 bombings. 2 in Casablanca (see other post) earlier this year and 1 now in Meknes. I assume that a Moroccan bomber is at least as intelligent as one in any other country, so their lack of getting done what they want is confusing. At first it was gallows humor. A butt of jokes, to take our mind off of the danger and risk in our lives. But, the longer I think about it and live near it the more I worry about the people who make such an odd choice for ending their lives.

If you ask people here they will say the men are "crazy". Its probaly true, mental illness is overlooked so often or papered over with a quick phrase. Clinical depression affects millions. If we passed a man on the street suffering from a bloody compound fracture of the thigh bone, we wouldnt say "the man is sick", and walk along. We would be inclined to help, and look into the cause. If we saw a rash of men around the country, prone on the ground with crimson streaked white bones poking out under their jallabas we would need to look into root of such problems, it must go further than a soccer red card. These bombings are a depressive cry for help, in an international language.

A few days ago that in Iraq petrol lorries were blown up killing hundreds. The perpetrators were mad. Pathological, but also angry. Having lived amoung Moroccans, and enjoyed cities such as Meknes, I do not think these are the same acts. It is a big place, so some people are going to be upset with forigners. Some Americans hate Arabic people. Facts of life. But, Moroccans are not an angry people and they are not xenophoic.

I suggest that a cause is that Morocco is stuck in Africa, but wishes it was invited to the European party, or was more firmly part of the Middle East. But, geography (and other things) has left it stranded out on the edge of both unable to fully realize the benifiets of a closer assoication with either. Morocco is the exotic bridesmaid. It is this sence of alienation, and the real effects of economic depression, that lie as causes of this psycosis.

Morocco is about the size of California, Ive been told. I am sure that if one were to parse though newpapers over the last year and a half in that state, there were at least 3 instances of people engaged in some anti-society act that would result in their death. Holdups, hostage taking, shoot outs. Not that much different.

To summeries: Morocco has suicide bombings not because it is full of "insurgants" or Al-Quidia ops, but because they have become a trendy way for young confused hurt Muslim men to end their lives.

Of comment. I read that the tour bus that was targeted was saved because of the quick work of the bus driver. First, I have never seen a large bus do anything quickly. They are the blue whales of the highway. Second, what visual clues does a person give off that they are going to blow themselves up. If they give any, they are doing their job poorly. If they give none, how did this driver know?

Meknes. A lot of people do not realize how great Meknes is. I love it. It is just friendly nice place that I have found is very welcoming to foreign visitors. It has all the aspects of a major Moroccan city, without being overly tackyly touristy. It is renowned for having the best candy (near and dear to my heart) and good carpets. It does not show off, to cater and pander like Marakesh. Nor does it rudely demand your attention like Fez. It quietly offers itself and that is something that I appricate very much.

2007-08-16T05:27:00.000-07:00

I lost my shoes. There are some really great ways to lose them, maybe in a kayak accident or stolen at gun point. This has to be the dumbest way.

I was elaited to be invited to a wedding fest, I dont like to be a door crasher but Moroccan culture is a little more vauge about invitations than American. Embossed paper is expensive, but word of mouth isnt. So at 1130am, I biked over (with helmet!) to Mulay Abdulahamans. I tend to call all weddings by the name of the father figure, mostly because they seem to be the ones in control of everything. It wasnt Mulays wedding, I think it was his daughtors. Truely that part was not important, and at this lunchen fest I never once saw either the bride or groom. I like to wear what I call "traditional" sandles, because many people have them. Really, they are imported (China?) plastic sandles. They are very sturdy, and very cheap. Most of them are blue (this is key).

When you arrive at someones house it would be impolite to track dirt into their rooms. So you take your shoes off at the door. Which is a simple process in plastic sandles (another reason to wear them). At large gatherings the piles of shoes grows to impressive size, looking like you have arrived to a grade school sock hop. Instead we all hang out barefoot thinking "damn, that dudes feet have been treated harshly". The food came, we ate, and pretty much as a group we stood to leave. Because everyone is looking for shoes at the door it creates a small bottleneck, and I was at the end. As the crowd thins and I move to the front I do not find my fairly new size 44 blue plastic sandles. What is left are two mismatched, smaller blue plastic sandles.

This leads to two conclusions. Either one man came wearing drasticly mismatched sandles and worked a little prestidigitation. Or two men came, switched one foot each and now have mismatched pairs. I am hesitant to assign sinister motives, and am more concerned about the lack of observation skills in my town. While the right footed sandle is close to the correct size (its a 41), the left is truely too small for my foot, which makes me think someone in town has a left that is way to large for them. In a week of strangeness, which I am attributing entirely to the informally named "owner of the stars", this was the icing.

Time to go back to market and buy another pair.

**************************

I looked back on some of these "posts". I am unimpressed. But, more importantly, it is hard to believe how quickly this time has gone.

I was spending some time with a few vols from my cohort this weekend, and we all could not believe how soon we were done. As the summer starts to fade, and I know that I have a mostly mild winter then the trip home I know that it is coming quick.

This does raise the issue of counting down months. It is my feeling that one should count a month as finished at the end of the month. But, strangely some vols count off a month at the begining of the month. Strangeness. Think about it this way, when school is out, Ill be home.

2007-08-12T04:26:00.000-07:00

All I need in life I learned from the Iraqi War (continously updated as the war continues).************************************************

1. Things that seem simple can be very complicated.

2. Try not to be in the middle of someone elses family feud.

3. Thou shall not kill.

4. Drink lots of water and use oil sparingly.

5. If you are going someplace dangerous, take a lot of friends.

6. The world is full of lots of different people, most of them are nice, and most of them dont like guns any more than you do.

7. It is ok to be wrong, its not ok to be delusional about it.

2007-08-12T04:23:00.000-07:00

I might have mentioned it, but I only recently bought a fan. Keep in mind that last summer my town was without power in the daylight hours, so any percieved extream slowness in this case, was only normal Scott slowness.
My little box of joy cost 100dh, I should have bargined more but standing in the hardware store the idea of a fan for such small amount of money seemed reasonable. If a the quality of a price can be found by compairing the overall pleasure and utility of a product, weighted against the amount paid, then I think I got a very good deal. Those guys were suckers.
Tempering this, I can not claim to be an expert on fan technology. I have in my life owned one fan that I felt was "a really good fan". All others have been pretty much the same with minor variations. The product currently winding my feet is in the second class. It is on the small side, and has few visable studry metal parts. If I was to carry this fan onto an airplane, I feel confident it would breeze though security. My coke bottle and Tevas would get more scrutiny.
It is a 2foot square box. White in color, with odd gray aerodynamic trim on the top. The grill is also gray. It has three speeds, and a two hour timer. A simple need, simple fan.
As mentioned I do not stay current with advances in fan design. Many fans sold here strangely feature a rotating grill. This is so absuredly useless and cosmetic that it can only have been created by Americans looking for a way to sexy up an otherwise normal household appliance with a feature I neither need nor want, the camreraphoning of the world. My fan has a switch to turn the movements of the grill on and off. Gnomes within seem to dictate if the grill will rotate clock or counter wise. My friend a few hours away has a fan with 4 seperate moving circular grills arranged in a confusing square. But, Im not the Mr. Fancy Pants he is. In theory, these moving grills should create a "spin" to the air current pushing it further without dying out. Same prinple behind throwing footballs in a tight Sunday afternoon spiral, and putting grooves in gunbarrles. In reality, it does nothing except provide a little visual distraction. I keep the switch turned on.
A common conversation I have is to compaire the current weather with weather in the United States. I try to explain that while Kansas does not have the same heat that we have, there are places, like Arizona, that are similar. It is hard to summerize a place like America and people here are unsure exactly what is American weather. They are however confident that European weather is a lot cooler. Thus, my fans name is "Europa". If the economic success of France and Spain can not be equaled right here at home, at least some of the comfort of the climate might be.
Not to be overlooked is the tranquile element of fan sound. I read a piece of writing influenced by Eastern philosophy few years ago about the beauty of silence. The author said he did not play music as background noise, that there was entirely to much of that in this world and to appriciate silence (with natures orchestra) was a good thing. Unluckaly, this chop souy (American muddle with faux-Eastern flaver) made a small impression on me. Before, I felt some conflict about turning on a noise machine, as if silance was a comlicated and intricate sand drawing and my stero was blowing it all away. But, Ive learned it is easy to get silance back, simply turn off your noise. It can be appriciated then. My time here has me wondering about the wisdom of the author. His ideas are better suited to a different world. The first world. The smooth purring whiring sounds like everything is all right in the world. I wonder if those same geniously of marketing that worked out the grill could help design extra calming sounds for the fan. Certainly not all are the same. Some must be more relaxing, more tranqual than others. This would put a fan in the first catagory.
My observations are antidotal, but it seems like many more fans are for sale this year at market. It take this as a good sign of improved economics and more modern conviences.

************First there were glass containers for our soda that we named "bottles". Then came steel and aluminium "cans". Now we are back to bottles with plastics. Here in Morocco, all three states of drink container technology exist more or less peacefuly side by side in the store refrigerator. I like the glass bottles best. It has an odd retro look and feel. They have solid reasuring protective heft of thick cold glass in your hand. Good in case of a fight too.

2007-07-28T13:14:00.000-07:00

I just bought a fan. Most people would have bought theirs a year ago, but Im not always the first on the scene. It has not been a high priority item, and even my selection was haphazard, rushed and probaly inadaqute for my needs. To truely cool a person off, a fan would need to create wind speeds akin to Mount Washington in New Hampshire. Today, it felt as though I wasnt being cooled so much as having a nice warm breeze sweep over me. Great for springtime sunshiney naps, bad for summer time.

I have not done a complete survey of other voleteers, but for me, summer naps are a strange experience. Between 2 and 4pm the town is deathy still. Walking around, you will find doors open and people laying inert on the floor. A cat burgler could wipe out the 74$ of value in this town in about a half hour. I have tried to battle though the afternoon, doing quiet work and keeping down the racket such as playing The Presidents of the United States first album at an appropriate volume. It is hard work unless one is so jazzed on tea and coffee that sleep is impossible. It is a better policy to wake early, be productive when when suns rays are indirect then crash for a very needed afternoon sleep. I have thick heavy dreams now. I never confuse the world of dreams with the real, but the heat keeps me suspended between the two unable to fully enter one or the other. The best policy seems to be to leave some piece of enjoyable work for the midafternoon, as an inducement to clear out the cobwebs and to fuel the rise from the dead on a zombie elixer of stongly sugared green tea.

Somehow my local store got a 194X quarter. Im not sure, but it may be before they took out much of the silver meaning it has some precious metal value. However, the son of the store owner was sad to find out it was only worth 2dh. No trade.

2007-07-24T02:28:00.000-07:00

So... I havent updated for awhile. It isnt as though all the information can not or will not get onto this page, its just that its nicer to have it come in manageable gulps and not in long chilly chugs that give you an upset tummy and a cold headache.
My parents visited. I think its fair to say we made a 3 egg omlete. It was tasty, and I think that for the most part it went almost exactly as plan. I have heard that some parents wont visit their kids who are in Peace Corps. They are "not the traveling type" or are "worried about such-and-such". A shame. Nothing like shared problems to overcome that help us come together and learn about eachother. Possible, but harder to find in the USA. An inevettable part of visiting Fes.
One thing that I liked about my parents visit was they got to meet a few of my friends. Not a lot, and not for a long time but it was good to get the two groups together.

********************

What do Peace Corps in Morocco people talk about when they get together (not in order of frequency):
1)Eachother. Who are going out together, who is sick/healthy, who you just saw last week, who is having a little "freakout". Its all out there on the grapevine. I like decenteralised information (and centeralised too), so for me this is great fun and sometimes educational.
2)What strange to us thing we "just saw" some Moroccan people do/say. Sometimes this is honestly odd, and sometimes its just a cultural thing. Stopping the transit for an hour to drink tea with a friend on our way home from market.
3)Policy. Like any company we grumble and bitch about such and such a policy we dont like. Happens in all Peace Corps posts, happens in all jobs.
4)Health. I have never been part of any group of people who more openly and frequently talk about #2. Then again, its good to commicerate over shared suffering. The Peace Corps Medical office said that 95% of PCVs report having diahreara. That means 1 in 20 are lying.

***********************

Im trying to listen to a small radio station from West Africa. Its nothing personal against my own North Africa, but I like the music better. Call me a griot. It is a little haven of cool calm relaxed sound on a dial that is otherwise crowded with talk. Spanish, Arabic, Arabic, French, Arabic, French, Italian. Its so much chatter. I want to make belive Im on a desert island. I dont need to pretend.
Radio China has a show that is almost a perfect copy of a United States morning drive time. The most mindless of chatter. Its impressive their attention to detail. The "side-kick" women even sounds ditzy. I would like to know if she had to practice that inflection in English or if she had it naturally.
Everyone has heard of Voice of America, or the BBC. But who gets to listen Radio Austria? Its there, and with English broadcaasting. Its a pleasent reminder that there is local news everywhere, and every country takes seriously the same indicators of their health and well being. Yesterday was Sweeden. Their youth are not protecting themselves against HIV. Radical Scandanavian solution? More education.
My friend who lives up in Iminchil (one of the coldest Peace Corp sites) is a dedicated listener to Canadian Broadcasting. The "Maple Leaf Mailbag". She has been a call-in guest at least twice.
The best part of the small power West African station is that it comes in very badly. Like Royals baseball games that I used to listen to in grade school as I went to sleep. Their signal gets mixed up with the other stations that come in on neighboring frequencies. Radio Harvet Internatinal. They reap souls. Guitar and singer with reminders that Im going to hell soon. It makes for a good afternoon.
I finished my MidService Medical. No paracites. No TB.

**********************

My problem with the heat isnt that its so hot. I dont mind how hot it is, and I dont even own a fan (Im thinking about changing this). The problem is not that Im covered in sweat, from morning to night. Or that my clothes all pick up a curious salty white stain. I can wash them. My issue with the heat is the lethargy that it brings out. It crushs a person. I have not had a solid, enjoyable nights sleep in over a month.
A man at my reserve told me that the redness in my eyes was no lack of sleep, but rather that my shoes did not let my feet breath and let out the heat thats built up inside me. In chararistic Moroccan hospitality he offered me a pair of his sandles to wear when I was visiting. I am not a medical doctor, but I am pretty sure his ideas would not pass muster with the Lancet.
The funny thing about the heat is it makes you want to stay up late. Just when its bedtime, the air starts to cool. On the other hand, its already 90 when I wake up at...630am. Then, no matter how much sleep I got last night, I grow tired again in the afternoon and try to lay down in my living room. Its so still in town as everyone takes a nap. Only occasionaly puncuated by the wailing cries from the babies a few doors down. I have tried to power my way though. Finding a good book, putting on some upbeat music to give me the energy I need to avoid this crippling loss of productivity. But, its impossible. Try as I might, I can not avoid it. Sleeping is easy, but fighting your body as it tries to wake up/shut down and do everything else you dont want it to do is getting difficult.

***********************

I found some old James Bond movies in Rabat last month. I never knew how fake they looked. Not at all the realism of say...GoldenEye.
I neglagently passed on picking up a Special Edition of BarberShop. Ive tried sending another PCV up for it. What a great movie.

***********************

I dont know why apricot jelly is so popular here. Its huge. Best seller. My local store stocks only apricot and that comes in two sizes. If a small jar is not enough for your family, have a large. It is possible to find many other flavors in bigger cities, but I am starting to grow attached to this stuff. Knott's Berry Farm it isnt. Big chunks of fruit are not visable in any way. Its a pourable jelly, rather than a sticky jam. Ive been using it in stirfry. On top of pancakes. As a dip for bread. Over cous-cous. With hot cocca. This stuff is great!

***********************

The major "off brand" of cola is called "ICE". Nothing says cold like ICE right? Its 5.50dh for a L, verses 7.90 for Atlanta's best. But that is not why I like it, even asking for it by name if possible. Whats great is how they distingush the regular from the diet. I have never seen diet ICE, but the regular is marked as "STRONG". Who would not like to drink a strong cola?
I am trying to slowly introduce the idea of ice cream floats to Morocco. The concept (as far as I can tell) does notice yet exist. They have the four major componants. Ice Cream, cola, glasses, and heat. Soft serve is availble on almost any street corner. It may not always be cold. Or creamy. But it holds a close enough resemblence to real dairy ice cream to work fine. Like a second cousin to the Blue Bunny. The first time I went with a glass up to the ice cream man he gave me a funny look saying "what you want ice cream in there? you weird forign guy". But, I think my first cafe is slowly warming to the idea.

2007-02-17T07:08:00.000-08:00

Mouse in the house. I had thought that was my situation for some time. Most Peace Corps volenteers report one little furry friend at some time or another. Those of us in hot warm climates also get scorpians, and it could be hoped that one problem would take care of the other. Uninvited guests seem the natural by product of living in a mud houses in rural areas. It is not as though I am against mice. I dont mind them really. If it ate the food I provided expressly for its consumption, and was house broken I might find it a good pet. I certainly understand its plight. The winter is not a wonderful time, and my house is much warmer and my provisions better than outside. Im always well stocked on rice, cous-cous, a wide selection of beans, and always have fresh veggies about. Im a good host.

Almost since the day I moved into my own house, Ive been thinking about installing the age old mouse nemisis for some time, but couldnt bear to leave a cat here in Morocco after I left nor did the idea of taking it home seem like a good idea. So the plan never got off the ground.

Tonight, I put on the Traveling Wilburys at what I think is a good volume, but is probally a little loud for both my ears and neighbors. Neither have called up to register a complaint, so I guess Ill keep doing my damage linerialy, one track at a time. Bam! Out of nowhere the mouse flys around the room. When I say nowhere, I think he was hiding near some books piled on the ground next to my speakers. I can see where Bob Dylan could be kinda scary. Add to that Tom Petty, Roy Orbinson, George Harrison, and the guy from ELO and this was like D12 to a Suburban mom.

Knowing that my living room door was shut and locked, this became something like a WWF RAW Cage Battle. One man, one mouse, only one of us would leave by our own 2/4 feet. I had high hopes that it would be me. The fight became heated. Back and forth we went, round and round the room. First to some other books, then around the bed, then the door, and back again to the books. Sometimes my foe would find a hiding spot to catch a breather, but I smoked him out every time. My original plan was to case him into a large bag I have, then take it outside. This was a plan destined for failure, I chalk up the novise mistake to inexperience in pest control.

When I spotted him huddled in a corner, an idea struck me. My Christmas stocking was nearby in a box, the perfect way to grab him and protect my hands at the same time. As a proof of concept, it went well. But, he squirmed out of my grip. I took it to the next step, picking up my heavy leather work/cooking gloves from the floor. The are the perfect tool to catch a mouse, or to punch cattle. 15 more minutes of back and forth action until he was mine, and safely escorted out of the house and into the wild.

Tom and Jerry are HUGE here. I mean giant. You can find T/J VCDs at market, and while I have not done a complete survey they seem to be on TV almost constantly. Great to watch because there are almost no words, and the cross cultural transition smooth. Interestinly, I think Jerry is assumed to be a female mouse. I wont tell Hanna or Barbara.

2007-02-13T04:06:00.000-08:00

I did not think this would be a problem here...but Im always flexable to new situations...

"Last week some earth tremors were experienced in different regions of Morocco, specifically in the provinces of Figuig (Beni Tajjit/Talssint) and Taza. The strongest was of a magnitude of 3.7.
This e-mail is to remind you of some precautions to take in case of earthquakes..."
-Mohamed
Safety & Security Coordinator

2007-01-23T03:11:00.000-08:00

Money. Curren. Flus.

My favorate way to say money is "flus". I think it sounds like something that a rapper would make up to talk about buying lots of "ice". It rolls of the tounge, rhymes with everything, and sounds as slick, smooth, and sexy as Gorden Gecko. Expect to hear me us it when I get home.

Morocco has very simple money if your life does not get very complicated. If you
buy normal, simple things in large major towns then it is no problem at all. Most people even can quote the price in either Arabic or French (sometimes English or Spanish), which just makes it even easier for European type tourists. The official unit of currency is the Durham. Like in North Carolina.

The Durham comes in coins of .5, 1, 2, 5 and 10. Bills of 20, 50, 100, and 200. There are two different 5Dh coins and 20 Dh bills. They are available in two completely different styles. Clearly its about a newer release slowly taking over the older style, but all the same its a little confusing at first. You can also find different coins of .5 in value, but they look the same.

Now for the confusing part. There are more coins. Centems. They are (metrically) 1/100th of a Dh. These come in 5,10,20 and 50. There are at least 3 versions of some of these coins, but its not a problem. What really sets them apart is that they are all gold colored and there is no confusion after that. You might wonder if the 50 centim is the same as the half Dh. It is, and it look alike (see above). The problem is that almost no on really "uses" the centim. When its quoted I usually end up confused because it comes as a bit of a suprise. Bread bought directly from a baker often ends up with some confusing centim amount. 1 and 1.5 L bottles of Coke are priced with them, but usually stores round up. Its a difference of (really!) 1 cent. Im flexable in this regard. Thankfully, most prices come in rounded off durham amounts, so when a centim shows up it tends to float around in PCVs pockets for some time. Also because they are of relative little value, I do not know anyone who saves them up for a big purchess like a candy bar. I just used a considerably sized 6 month old pile of mine in paying off my bill at the local veggie stand.

Now for an extra wrinkle. My veggie stand doesnt charge in either centimes, or durham. They only work in the ryal. 20 ryal makes 1 durham. It would be like only talking about prices by the nickel. I have heard that the ryal is the Berber unit of money, but they dont seem to be minting any not being in charge of the government. I can not tell if the Ryal is more used in rural and poor areas or in Berber areas because they are (sadly) often one and the same. Interestingly, you can show someone a bill clearly marked 20 dh and they will tell you its a 400 ryal bill. On no part of this bill are the words ryal, or the number 400. This can cause a bit of a sticker shock, my veggie bill came to a little over 4000 ryal. You might think that the ryal would allow for more exact charges for things, such as 17 ryal. But, in reality almost everything is either in whole or half durham amounts. I have heard that sometimes prices will get quoted in centimes, but I havent had that problem yet. My unproven theory about the ryal is that the durham came along more recently in large part to solve inflation after France went back to their own continate.

Recently I had a 20 Dh bill completely disinegrate in half. I spent an entire day trying to pass it off in various towns as I traveled, but couldnt find anyone who would accept it. Appearly a cut bill is not considered legal tender, or no one had some scotch tape. I couldnt figure out exactly which was the predominate reason, both were given (sometimes by the same person).

The final word on money in Morocco is "surf". Great for going to the beach, bad as a career option. In this context, it means "change". As in, "do you have some change, I cant break this 100 durham bill?" No one has change. Generally, my living allowence is payed out in 100 or 200 durham notes. Usually the 200. This is common practice across the country and makes common since when dealing with paying out one month of standard living. But, making that big note work is a real exersise in diplomany. Few shop owners will flat out refuse to sell something due to lack of small change, but they will be very unhappy with you. This can also lead to an uncomfortable period of time when they (or a young child represenative) have to leave the shop, walk down the street and find change while you stand around wondering just how it is this happens so often. I have found myself hoarding 20 durham notes, or the ever useful 10 dH coins trying to bluff my way though a conversation with people who I judge have the change so I can have a little more spending flexability. I suspect they are doing the same thing to me. The change always seems to be available somewhere, but it is never where you are.

Just for those who are curious. The exchange rate is around 8.5dH to a 1 US $. It has been falling slowly, and everyone tends to still use a 10:1 whersion. Who has that exact rate right now? The Euro.

2007-01-15T14:01:00.001-08:00

So I guess this should be the "Spending Christmas in a Different Place/Culture" post.
Christmas came, and went. It was hard for me to get in the mood this year. I usually rely on intoxicating levels of other peoples consumerism to help fuel my more pop culture holiday spirits. The lack of pure MidWestern fa la la la la, combined with relatively warm temperatures in "my" Saraha desert, the sand, the palm trees, and the absolute promise of no snow threw me out of my normal seasonal moods. Im sure it would have been much the same if I had moved to L.A. I don't want this to sound like pined for the holiday. If anyone is really curious, I spent Christmas Eve Eve, and Eve talking to my family on Skype, and most of Christmas sleeping, hiking, and cooking.

There are those who would ask if that jolly old elf and all he stands for has made it over to Morocco and if His message has penetrated though the tight mesh of Islam. Sorta, but not by much. No one in my town seemed really aware of the holiday, or at least pointed it out to me. Since I am a lighting rod for all things outside the world of Morocco, I feel someone might have brought it up if awareness was high. Maybe everyone in town still thinks I am Jewish (I have pointed out on many occasions that I am not).

Two fresh memories to share:
First. Riding north to Errachidia in my favorate bus (the TransBougafer) thinking at the time how odd it was I had not yet seen much sign of Christmas. Suddenly, a modern sleigh (Toyota 4x4) sailed past us filled with a happy family and stamped with a Spanish licence plate. Their back window was half covered with a giant Santa Clase and Felise Navidad. We continued to play passing tag with them for another hour until we got to the station. Maybe it was the Clase family returning north.

Second. After a long and relaxing hike being invited into a house to drink some tea with the two sons recently returned for the L'Eid holiday (see next post). This caused a decorm problem because the desert hike had caused my socks to become less than Snuggles fresh&white. They were thoughful enought to not this out, and thats good because I like this family. Halfway though what turned out to be a 5 hour long visit, I noticed they had a Santa on their shelf. From my seated vantage point, it seemed to be the exact same 1970's era battery operated bell swinging Santa that my family has, and brings out of storage every year for his one month of faded glory. I had always questioned keeping the old fellow around, but now, I think he might be one of my favorate signs of Christmas. No one talked about it.

2007-01-15T13:59:00.000-08:00

I do not know if the stars and the moon have aligned, but due to a freak cosmic chance the moon and the sun have shifted together and placed the Muslim feast of L'Eid (spellings differ) along with the Gregorian based fete of New Years Eve.

I think that most of you are familure with the more Western of these two holidays. To be honest, I have never been much impressed with it. But, this is not a post about that.
This is a post about L'Eid! Or as a greating, "MBrook L'Eid!". To get the prounciation just right, the "E" should sound as an "EA" combo. So much so that I have seen many people spell it Aid, or L'Aid. Also, the "L" is jammed on in the French way, so demphisise it. If at this point you are tripping over simple words and the concentration of rules causes you to question even your English, welcome to my world where speaking follows the same rules as horse shoes and hand granades.

The feast is a commereization of a true act of piety. Abraham was set to kill his son Ishmael. The boy was bound, the knife was raised. But, knowing the sincerity of Ab's heart, God did not make him go though with it. Exchanging a errant ram for his son (who was as hairy as one), he sealed the fate for millions of father goats down through the milinia.

Let me say that this was obviously an act of God. I have spent much of the last week following and talking to shepards, and it is a rare moment indeed when they let even the smallest fall behind and get lost. Let alone overlooking a large male with horns getting stuck in the brambles. Today I talked to one who was carrying a young kid as gently and securely as if it were his own Ishmael.

Each family here buys (or raises) their own ram. Those who did not have one already been picking them up at market over the last month, so that yesterday you could hear the bleatings all over town. To be honest, in a more agragrian town like mine, this is not that uncommon on most days. But, I have been told that in larger cities it is a sight to see and hear when horn honks are replaced with baaaa. I have seen goats recently stuffed into the trunks of grand taxis, slid under souk buses, and (once) slung over a mans shoulder while he was driving a moter scooter.

On L'Eid the sun rose warm and as full as the promise of tomorrow. It was perfect weather, and I suppose if I were a ram it would have been as good of a day as any to be sacrificed. This is a time that sons who are working abroad or in a major city like Rabat come home. There is that rich wholesome feeling of families enoying eachother. Groups of teenage girls roamed the streets, dashing into one house and back out the side door just as quick. Boys gathered on corners to buy and share candy. And if you listen closely, you can even hear family fights as the prodical son tells his parents about the new job he took last week.

I went for a walk this morning not knowing what exactly to expect. One of the first people I spotted was my local Imam from the mosque. I have often thought about how he is a young fellow, probally in his early 30s. He was walking quick enought to be called a trot down the street sharpening a rather impressive blade that he used to wave out a hurried hello as he flashed a bright smile. I didnt have the heart to call out a kindergarden teacher's warning about the danger inherent his Jason Voorhees-esqu behavior. It was his moment to shine as he was called from house to house, to carry out his duty to sever arteries and windpipes with a twist of the wrist and a wisper of prayer.

As I stood around the local shop, the single most talked about killing was of Saddam. Poor timing from the persepective of those here. Nothing says "Stop the Violence" like a hanging. I tried my best to explain that it was not actually Americans who hung him, but real honest Iraqis. I think we all had a decent grasp of what went on, but we stuck to our stories just the same.
I finished my tour of town as the last ram was put down to find my neighbors already well on their way to preparing lunch. The ladder that was used last month to replaster the house was now doing duty to hang the now dead, decapitated, and skined ram as my friendly neighbor Usfe worked quickly and carefully to take out each of the improbally shaped internal organs to be cleaned by his neice, while two young boys of 5 or 6 watched nearby listening to The Band (self-titled). That night, as well as the next, and those after will find dinner plates pilled high with mutton until every bit had been consumed. Eyes and brain too.

You might wonder why the two boys were listening to The Band. I would like to think that even from a young age they appriciate good music. But, its because that is what I was listening to on my iPod. The enire day has a feeling of Thanksgiving, of appricating what you have, and those who you can enjoy it with. Looking around the table, being happy in the moment...right before you stuff your face and fall asleep. The youth of M'ssici liked The Band almost as much as I do, even if they did not yet understand the profound connecion between history, family, celebrations, and roast meat. But, I think they are getting closer now, and maybe the New Year will find us all understanding each other a little better.

***There will be those who ask why the boys were listening to the "Self-Titled" and not "The Last Waltz". It is because I dont have that release here. We all make some sacrifices.***

2007-01-15T13:57:00.000-08:00

I was never a fan of the full moon, until I realized the utility of being able to find the bathroom at night.

2006-12-23T11:18:00.001-08:00

I know that this update was expected somewhat earlier than it is arriving, but that is the way of Peace Corps. It isn't as though I have a good excuse. I was at In Service Training (IST), and just found hanging out with my friends to be a higher priority than banging around Agadir and looking for a cyber cafe so I could type about souk buses and grand taxis. Im sure you understand.

Quick Facts about Agadir: It was mostly destroyed by an earthquake, and has been extensively rebuilt. This means everything feels 1960's modern. They can proudly boast not one, but TWO, Pizza Huts. They are unable to brag about their good Mexican food, as they do not have any. The grand taxi station is rather poorly located.

Grand Taxis: The final part of the triad of Moroccan long distance transportation. Also known as a "Taxi of/by Agreement", because all the passengers have agreed on a common destination.

The Grand Taxi is a pretty straightforward concept. 6 people cram into a Mercedes-Benz and go to a common destination. That comes out to 4 people across the backseat, and 2 riding shotgun. The driver gets his own seat. Grand Taxi's tend to be clustered together at the Grand Taxi stand, but they can be sometimes found in areas of high tourist concentration, or at a ad hoc renegade stand. The grand taxi is a great option if you and 5 friends want to take a trip. You can quickly charter a taxi, and assuming you have some idea of the price, will not get ripped off (badly). If you are traveling solo, it is still a quick option, you just need to wait until the taxi is full. This can take upwards of 3 hours, or as quick as 10 mins. Just depends on your luck. The major plus to travel in this fashion is that the taxi will not make unexpected stops before your destination, and will drive at a higher speed than either a transit or a souk bus.

Example Trip: My house to Marrakesh. There is no regular taxi service in M'ssici, so any trip would start at Rissani. GT to Erfroud, or Errachidia depending on where you think will fill up first. It is probably better to wait for the Err taxi. Then west to Tengrir, or if you are very lucky, direct to Ouzzazate. Then Oz to 'kesh. Long trip, but small segments with new closer friends in the backseat. A good time would be to make that in about 12 hours.

The downside is that you are often sardined into your seat, and a large amount of patience needed to wait for it to fill up. I have heard tell of PCV's buying an extra seat to either move the taxi quicker or gain more space. This is not a bad idea, but will make your trip cost double. But, if you are traveling in a group of 5, it is not totally unreasonable to spread the cost out amongst friends.

Some unscrupulous taxi drivers will attempt to charge you for your luggage. This is not common practice, and unless you are bringing sooooo much stuff with you that it is causing some problem no money should be paid. You may also find taxi drivers who attempt to take your entire group to the destination, but at a higher cost due to your relative ignorance. Your best bet is to make sure you are dealing with the official taxi stand of a town, and when in doubt check with other passengers or drivers.

Taxi drivers on the whole tend to be fairly good drivers. But, like most all taxi drivers they amount they drive is directly proportional to the money they make that day. So speed is often the primary concern, with your relaxation and peace of mind being second. The taxi's themselves are in good condition, often with amusing upholstery.

Overall, a good way to travel. It is often the quickest route, but it can also be the most expensive.

In the above post I have badly misspelled many towns in Morocco.

2006-12-23T11:14:00.000-08:00

The Souk Bus:

First, it is misnomer. Souk is market, but I know almost no PCV who uses a bus to get to their market on a regular basis. Also, the buses run (sorta) on a daily set regular schedule, whereas market is weekly. It should be called a big city bus, because that is where it will take you.

The souk bus is not unlike Forest Gump's box of chocolates. It is a bus, that much can be determined before hand. And, if you take the same bus repeatedly, you can get some idea of what trip is ahead of you. But, if you are getting on a random bus for the first time, you can find yourself anywhere on the comfort spectrum.

The bus station should have some idea about the time's and destinations of the buses that travel though, but times can be "approximate". If you are visiting a rather obscure town, it is best (as always) to reference the closest major town. And arrive early, you never know when things might be shockingly working ahead of schedule.

Buses start and stop (in theory) at a bus station. Each major town has a bus station, or at the very least an area that they start and stop in. My town has a section of road that buses will pull over into, or a Auberge parking lot. This does not mean that boarding and exit is limited to these clearly defined areas. Bus's can be flagged down anywhere on their route with a raise of the hand, or they can be stopped with a loud double clap of the hands. This can be 1km from the station, or in the middle of the desert. When these bus's enter a major town their stops can become so frequent that they seem to resemble a common city bus that is slowly working itself towards some faraway goal.

You will likely end up paying around 5dh for baggage to be stored under the bus. This can be fine for a long trip, but shorter engagements should be negotiated down a bit (something I'm still working on). I have even seen things as large as a washer/dryer unit being unloaded off of souk buses. Today I watched goats get loaded underneath. I have no idea how much it costs to send a goat.

The original plan you have your own seat. This is not a guarantee, but the bus driver tries to let people know if it is standing room only. Tickets can be bought either on the bus, or at the bus station before hand. Either is fine. I have never bought a ticket then found the bus wasn't going to stop, but I suppose it could happen. This does lead to the issue of buses not stopping. For reasons only clear to the driver, there is no obligation to stop at any town. I have awoke only to find myself flying right though my destination on more than one occasion. Sometimes buses that have always stopped in a town, will decide that they are not putting the brakes on today, requiring a minor reworking of your travel itenary.

One problem that gives souk buses a bad rep with some PCVs is that they are not entirely clean. Where as a grand taxi tends to get cleared out with each trip, the bus might only get a cleaning at the end of the day. So if you are traveling in the afternoon, it is highly likely your seat has already had 2 or 3 passengers. And one or more of them might have spilled a drink or left you some candy wrappers. Additionally, the mountain passes can be stomach churning for any normal person, and downright sickening for those who travel infrequently (most the people on the bus). It is not for nothing that the ticket takers carry around empty black plastic vomit bags. Etiquette says that full ones should be thrown out the window as quickly as possible.

Another issue is that the windows and ventilation is often poor. It is a misconception with some Moroccans that drafts and cool breezes in windows can cause illness. Or let in spirits. Either way, windows are often shut and the heat inside can become very uncomfortable during the summer. This can be an issue also on the Grand Taxi, but it seems more acute to me on the buses.

The major advantages is that is can go a looong distance and you only need to pay once. A trip that might require 3 grand taxi's can be done entirely on one bus. I am not allowed to travel at night (safety first!), but a bus at night could in theory take a tourist person a long distance and they would arrive somewhat refreshed in the morning. The biggest reason to take the bus is that it is cheap. By Moroccan standards or by American standards it is a cheap ride. I can travel from my house at 7am, to Meknes at 630pm for around 100 dh (11.75US$). Thats a lotta go for little dough.

2006-12-03T02:38:00.000-08:00

Today we are starting part one of four on transportation options here in Morocco. There are three basic ways for me to get from A to B should both of these points be far apart; the bus, the taxi, and the transit. Today, the transit.

This is the most simple and humble way to get from point to point. Most transits (really, all that I know of), run a more or less short route mostly daily from a small town to a larger town then back again. They leave and return at more or less set times, but that is open to some flexability. 1pm is a lot like 3:30pm. You pay a set fee, and maybe something additional if you had some really big cargo.

What is a transit? Its a panel van. In my town the seats are bench style and arranged around the walls of the van so that the entire middle can be taken up with cargo. These seats are all removeable, if need be. Other transits have the seats arranged more or less in the traditional style. They are painted usually with a flat latex paint, and often identified by color. "Im taking the red one at 3pm".

A lot of volenteers count the transit driver as one of their chief assets in town and work to keep a good relationship with him (its always a him).

Transits are really the most adventerous way to travel. Firstly, the number of tourists on one is almost zero. So as a forigner you always stand out. For most of us, the transit is full of local people who know us, but should someone new get on, it can be a suprise for them. Second, by and large they are the least well maintained of transportation options, and are more likely to break down or be reduced to slooooow speeds. This is understandable, because it is not uncommon for them to use "roads" that are little more than tire tracks in the rocks and sand. I know of one that regularly uses a river bed (when the river isnt there).

The most interesting part is when you come back from you day at market. What was originally a rather empty van is now more full than you can ever imagine. I have never seen one turn down extra people or packages, so they can be almost bursting. Almost everyone has been shopping, so now there are all their new purchesses. But these are more than just veggies, and maybe a new pair of shoes. Large sacks of animal fodder are common on mine. As are new animals to go with the fodder. Today I was trying to do a little snoozing while on my way to town, when suddenly a great commotion ensued while we were picking up a new passanger. He was bringing a goat and two little kid goats on board. I like to play with them, so really, Im not complaining. Last week, we had an entire donkey on with us. Also, as my town is in a bit of a building boom, the transite is responsible for bringing back the bricks and mortar and also rebar. If it can be moved, it will appear in or on top of a transit at some time.

Overall, its a fun experience, and one that for many of us is essential. The transit is likely the only relialbe way to get from your site to a larger town for basic household goods.

Next...the souk bus!

2006-11-25T03:37:00.000-08:00

Tom Petty's new song, Ankle Deep (Highway Companion) says "Took all Winter to get through the Summer". While most of this last summer passed, melted, and slumbered by before this blog was started let me assue you that it is warm out here in the Saraha desert. Such thing as a cold desert exists, but I do not live in it. Days typically warmed up to well over 120F, and only a very foolish person would go around working in the direct afternoon sun. Lunches stretch out into afternoon naps, then to everyone moving slowly until we find a little tea to wake up lazy bones around 5pm as the suns rays have passed their zenith and come angleing in just a little more obliquly. Even as late as 7 or 8pm the temperature would stay well into the upper 90s. My area has a strange periodic weather pattern of heavy cotteny clouds that move in for a couple of days a month. Like a blanket over the land streatching as far as can be seen they trap the solar radiation down and keep the us warm all night long. Most days found me drinking well over a gallon of water, which most people in my town considers to be excessive and a little crazy. But, as long as I stay cool being the water guzzeling forigner is a rap I can deal with.

I sleep on a sorta thin ponge wrapped in a funky vein and tropical leaves pattern. "Ponge" is a term used to describe generally any longer bench like sitting cushion. Not a pillow. They can be made entirely of synthetic foam, or can have different amounts of natural fibers mixed in. I think mine cost about 8$US, and it moves easily out into my walled garden every night which seems to be the coolest place in my house. Other people sleep on their roofs, but, thats not for me. Hot summer nights open quickly to even hotter summer days as soon as the sun climbs over my 10' garden walls.

Now it is the winter season. The mercury is falling in my electric guage, and highs are currently in the 60s. I try to wear darker colors and spend time laying in the low sun as much as I can, not unlike a lizard sunning on a rock. I am told that it will only get colder from here on. The problem really isnt the low temperaturs, its the lack of external heating sources anywhere. Without a heater in my house, the shade of my inside rooms is no longer a positive trait. If the high is 60, then my kitchen might never warm over 50. I wear a lot of layers and think of my friends who are even much colder than me. I think it might take signifigantly less time than the entire winter forcasted by Mr. Petty, I am ready for summer right now.

2006-11-12T02:59:00.000-08:00

I had planned to do some typing tonight. The topic was going to be dogs, but I think that will get delt with later. Shore version, they are not man's best friend here. Not even runner-up.
It is not completely uncommon for a Peace Corps volunteers (PCV) to be asked to help out with some translation. The paper is usually old, perhaps has a light tan stain from some tea, and might have been carried around or kept in a box for years until a suitable translator (me) has been found. It is assumed (and generally true) that a PCV has a decent command of the English language. My grasp of Berber is much weaker, but usually I am able to get the gross point across if not the finer details. Sometimes it is just a trick of remembering the right vocabulary, as I experienced today.

For some reason, a young man in town whom I talked to frequently picked today to ask me for my help in reading a letter "from a friend in Canada". He was using the word "friend" loosely, as it often seems to be. This letter was really from the Calaedonan Offshore Oil Company Ltd. Most of the letter indicates that they are a company in Canada that specializes in helping secure employment on offshore oil rigs for people (young men). This much he had grasped from the vivid pictures. I was able to help fill him on details about location (about everywhere there is oil), and money (a lot). But, the COOC are not themselves an oil company, and they want 189$ upfront to begin looking for a job placement. They also do not guarantee work. If you are beginning to think this sounds like a scam, I'll add one final detail. The very fine print (yes I was reading that) adds a quick caveat, they are incorporated in Liberia.

The biggest problem with the translation I had was figuring out how to say "these guys are going to take your money and not do anything", which is essentially how I put it. I forgot that somehow the word "mafia" is well known here. Still, even after we had discussed the letter, and that the COOC were part of the mafia (not totally unrealistic in Liberia), this young man asked me to write an email and explain his circumstances. He does not have a job, and does not have the money. But would be happy to pay them back all the money (it is another 250$ after job placement, if that miracle ever happened), after he was working.

I think what bothered me the most about this isn't that someone was trying to rip someone else off. It happens everywhere all the time. If you have never been the target of a scam operation I suggest leaving your cave. It was having to tell such a willing and eager person that this letter was not going to be the future and his ticket out of town. I do not know if the family "needs" the money, he is building their new house right now. But, a small hometown is not a great place for a young man who can see the wide world and wants to get their start in it, just on the other side of his cinderblock wall. He friendly, hardworking, smart, strong in his faith, and bored out of his mind. I am eager to help my town, but for this guy I just want to get him a job anywhere else.

2006-11-12T02:57:00.000-08:00

I think this is a post you are going to want to bookmark and return to, as it will hopefully be contentiously updated during my service. It is, as the name suggests, a review of the candy bars and other sweets that are found here in Morocco. As I have mentioned before, people in Morocco are no different than those in the United States in their gustatory appetite for sugary goodness. Be it in the bar, or a cookie, any small town store will have a few different selections on hand. In my town, any of 3 different small stores can help fill your sweet tooth and contribute to dental decay. Even I, once a champion of "savory" am often scanning shelves looking for my favorites. Also, I kinda like checking out everything they have to offer here...When in Rome and all that.

MegaChok: We start with my current reigning favorite. The MegaChok are the largest chocolate cookies I have ever seen for general sale. The filling has a dark quality that reminds one of a dove bar, while the cookie itself is bursting with partially hydronginated soybean oil. Not only is each cookie large, but they come in a long corrugated cardboard tube of about 15 cookies. MegaChok indeed! The average price is 15dH or slightly less. The cleverly designed tube does a great job protecting the MC from undesired crumbling when packed away on long trips. It also means that the MCs can be passed around easily, they make a welcome accompaniment to any social gathering. As a bonus, with 10 proofs of purchase, you can send in for a free Burt and Ernie Tshirt. Because they are produced by X your tshirt will be en Espanole! The only major drawbacks are that if you want just one MC you will be carrying around the rest of tube for some time. Also, limited availability can lead to wondering city streets in vain.

Marko: Like its far-traveling namesake, this candybar brings with it a certain worldliness; it is a copycat of the 3 musketeer candy bar. Otherwise it is unremarkable. The nougat layer is slightly dry (could have been the desert heat). This is topped by not a bad caramel layer. One bonus is that unlike regular milk chocolate with its rather low melting temperature, the "chocolate coating" does not melt on fingers as quickly on hot sunny days. This coating is also a little darker in flavor than that of its americium counterpart. The wrapper warns that "OCCASIONALLY THIS PRODUCT MAY CONTAIN TRACES OF PEANUTS" which is good news, unless you are allergic to our friend the groundnut. Wide availability and a low price of 1-1.5dH means the Marko comes in handy in a pinch. Do not tell Mars candy company about this low priced treat, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

Rialto- Madison "Arome Frise": Trying something different with this one. A "live" tasting, I am sampling this one as I write. To be honest, Im not sure if the name is Rialto or Madison. Both have prominent space on the package. But, Madison is stamped into the strawberry flavored cracker, that has been "enrobed" in chocolate product. I will assume that this is a tribute to the early American President, and not to the capitol of Wisconson. A quick note, frise is Arabic for Strawberry, a flavor that is very popular here. For around 1.5 dH it is not a bad snack, and goes well with an afternoon coffee. In each package you get 3 of these enrobed crackers, which is a nice plus. However, where these really "robed" they would be mooning the eater, because the backside is left bare. Not enough chocolate. Also, they are putting to the test the "fake chocolate doesn't melt in your hands, or anywhere else" theory. The strawberry flavoring is very good, shockingly so. Overall, not a terrible choice is the time is right. Ill be looking for other Arome's as I rome.

Tagger - This bar finds a smooth harmony between a rich chocholate coating, and the almost umbiquitous candy wafer. I am not sure exactly why these crunchy wafers are so popular here in Morocco, but this summer I went to a 4 day wedding and ate approximately 2 per tea, which was about something like 4 times a day. 2x4x4=32 wafers during the feasting wedding. It was a bit of overkill for me, and I was apprehensive when I first opened up the Tagger. But, after my first bite I was pleasently suprised. The dry sugery crunchyness was well under control with a more creamy than normal filling, and the coating further helped to neutralize dusty flakyness that seems to be both flavor and shirt covering bother. An excellent product by the "Biscuiterie Industrielle Du Moghrieb".

Rebeca - I was looking for an after dinner snack that would complement my sandwitch and go well with the wine we were drinking. Im not sure what brought me to this little bar, it might be the starting resembalance to Mounds. Almond Joys have something these lack, but otherwise they are excellent. Any fan of coconut will find these to addictive and they will want to pick up at the local store. A cute bonus is that each package contains two smaller bars, keeping in the tradition of the Mounds/Almond Joy empire. They have a somewhat limited availabity, but a savey hunter is sure to find them in any larger sized market town.

Gougti - Ill admitte that I was initially aprehensive about picking up a candy bar with a name that I was completely unable to pronounce. You might noticed that many of the others reviewed have easy English names. Im not sure why this is, but a person could tell themselves this is an Italian import and feel rather cultural while eating it. As if being in Morocco wasnt an internatioal experience enought. The package is rather dull and boring which might put an inexpericed muncher off. But, like a book and its cover, one would be foolish to think that the package would dictate the quality of what was inside. Unless you like eating candy bar wrappers and I dont, you should focus on what really matters. This is a wonderful candy bar, one that I expect Ill be hunting down in villages and towns for the next two years. It has a base of substantial and hearty almond nougat. This isnt the light and fluffy stuff, fans of that will have to go elsewhere. If this nougat was part of the Cambells soup line, it would get advertized by monster NFL linebackers and their mothers. Almost a meal by itself. On top, on the sides, and on the bottom you will find a slightly dark chocholate that gives a pleasing complement to the nougat. Like a backup singer, it provides a depth of flavor without distracting from what you origially came for. Bonus: the price is right on the wrapper, 2dh. Hard to argue with that, even if you dont speak a word of Arabic, Berber, or French.

Reine - Bouyed by the success of bars withforign sounding names that I couldnt pronounce, I picked this up while waiting for a bus to leave. Sadly, this bar is not the size of a telephone pole, and I was done long before we left the station. Also sadly, I had picked up a Coke to complelement my breakfast of champions, and had made a wrong choice. This is a cafe bar. The ideal location to enjoy would be at any of the numerous coffee shops that dot the country. A mistake I will not make again. The claim of a "Hazelnut Nougat Bar Coated with Chocolate Flavour" is right on the money, and it wont take much o buy this. I paid 2dh, and that seems high. A dark coffee and a relaxed atmosphere would be perfect to savor the warm sweet hazelnuts. The chocolate flavour could be much improved, perhapes with real chocolate, instead of the faux coating provided. All the same, a delicous choice for those looking to get off the pure sweet and sticky route.

Moreno - Im guessing Italian influence again. This bar sounds like a sport car you might find James Bond driving before his Aston Martin. Or sexy shoes. Either way, you would be close to the experience found here. The "Moreno Milky Compound Chocolate Coated Bar with Carmel" delivers a sugar punch right to your pancrass. I am unsure if this milky compound can be found on products from Bifa, but I hope they use it more often. I love carmel and if any complant might be had with this bar, it would be a shortage of carmel. Its a smooth ride all the way, and wide circulation makes these easy to pick up no matter where you find yourself.

Lelio- "Kit Kat on Steriods". I dont think they are looking for an ad man, but if they were, I've got the perfect pitch for this candy bar. You just heard it. Excelo corporation starts with the Kit Kat base, and thats a good start. Then they wrap it in a carmel layer that like dark energy can be detected with sensitive equipment (your tounge in this case), but is generallyinvisable and will probaly remain a scientific puzzle for decades. At least I think this layer exists here, it certainly seems to aviod being spotted by the my naked eye. On top of this, the bar was blasted with crisped rice then smothered in chocolate. The end result does not have the super sleak aerodynamic shape that is more common with candy bars, rather it looks like something crafted by a pre-school class on their "in the kitchen" field trip. Sadly, unlike Kit Kat, they come only one to a package. Overall, a good trip away from nougat land.

Tito- It was early morning really, but I felt like I had been traveling for a long time already. Something about 2 hours on an unpaved road over the mountains that wears a body out. I knew I would need a little pick up. A little something to help face the day. Some people like smoking. Thats a dangerous habit, saturated fat is much safer. Of the many places you might find a candy bar, the worst places are on the carts of men who stand around near taxi stands or in the middle of market. A real store might be expected to have something good a Marko for example, but these men get stuck with the most meager selection of the uglyist candy. Im not entirely sure how this happens. Often they become arranged in a somewhat attractive colorful geometric pattern, as though this will offset what everyone knows is questionable food. This candy bar came from one of those men, and was one of those candy bars. But, I was determined to have a great day, and lack of selection was not going to hold me back. The package looks like it will contain peanuts. It has an artists rendition on a peanut on the front, I had never though how one might find some difficulty depicting peanuts. Im pro-nut myself, so this looked good. I did not see any peanuts. All I could find was a solid hunk of chocolate riding a thin cookie. Like a portly man who has taken up surfing. But, like the Double Mint twins, there were two to be had. The package says to "Keep in a cool and in a dry place". Always sound advice. Unexpected goodness finds us everyday. On that day, it found me in the Tinjrear grand taxi stand. It can find you too, just buy a Tito.

Lix- The good people at Prestige Food can be questioned for a few choices on this bar, but overall Im going to give them passing marks. My first Lix was in Fes, but sadly it never made it into the review. I have had the wrapper from my second Lix laying in my kitchen for the last two months. So long that I have forgotten where it even came from. Lets call it what it is, it's a Snickers bar. Straight up, this fills a hunger you might have. If it doesnt, you can buy two, or four. With the going exchange rate you can probally eat most of your fat and sugar allocment for less than a US dollar. If it doesnt cure your hunger you must have a tapeworm. The most intersting part of the Lix isnt the bar itself. It is the blue panther that takes a swipe at you, the consumer, from the wrapper. Does this suggest that there might be some violence caused by the bar, on par with an attack from one of these large cats? I havent experienced it. Also, why is this panther blue? Was black too scary? Or to normal? Questions to ask our friends at Prestige.

Biscuit Caramel- When you name something as simply as this, it seems that the next step would be to perfect what was inside. If you bite into something like a "Marko", there are no preconcieved notions about whats there. It could be anything, your mind is like a blank slate able to judge the bar on taste alone. But, with this name, you have some ideas before the wrapper is off. So I think the Bimo company should work to make the best caramel biscuit possible. Their work has resulted in the exact opposite. The bar is an ugly conglomerated mess, haphazardly covered in chocholate. The biscuit itself might have been make with the same recipe used for the hardtack that Columbus set sail with. I had to beseach Santa Maria to help me finish back whatever this was, enjoyable it wasnt. You might expect me to discusess the carmel layer. I would, but couldnt find it. Avoid, even if its given to you for free.

Tito Blanc-There are a lot of sequals that do not live up to the original. They might get more money thrown at them, better press and packageing. But something is missing. That magic that made the first is missing from the second. But, that does not stop us from buying anyway. Well, I at least have important scientific work to do, but, if you should happen to think that the quality found in the Tito can also be found here you are wrong. Its not. Unless you are an unreasonably large fan of white chocholate, this bar should be regulated to the second tier of purchesses. Interestly, the package features what look to be puffed rice exploding out of the bar. Im not sure if this is a feature or a warning. I did not notice any kinetic aspect when I was eating. I did find a slightly fruity flavor with the chocholate. It was in general rather dry with a dairy milky subtle tinge.

Oranjis-I was not expecting much when I bought this. You might wonder why I would even get a bar that I thought would be a dude. I am a hard worker, thats why. I think there may be some diamonds in the rough of Errachidia provance. This bar has kept alive that belive. The overall appearence is nothing much. Rather like the biscuit caramel, it defies a simple shapely discription. Oval? Longer than an oval, more rounded than a rectangle. And covered I think in crisped rice. Of the same general shape as the Lilio. If you are adverse to ugly sights, close your eyes. I dont know many people who taste with their sence of sight anyway. But, there are those who do, and what a strange world that would be to live in. Just relax your mind and try to enjoy the taste sensation in your mouth. Whats so good is inside anyway. Orange jelly, and it's done so right. Not to much, not spilling onto your coat while you sit on the bus. Not so small that you feel like launching a search and rescue unit to locate it. Just right. Goldielocks. It advises you to "eat soon after opening". I can think of few reasons why you would open it, then wait around. Even with a bad candy bar this would be a poor option, and with something this good the warning is well intentioned but I think will hardly ever be useful. Everyone will eat and enjoy immeditatly. Then throw the wrapper on the ground and walk away, satiated.

Maxbar-I think the original reason for this post was to talk about Moroccan candy bars and sweets. Now some might construe that to mean, ones made in Morocco. Some might think I am talking about ones available here. Both camps are right, but do not expect a discussion of Snickers which are availble in the Magrib. The Maxbar hails from Turkey. EU membership is looking dim for Constantinble, it is a good thing that this bar is not expected to smooth over the tricky issues like Cypus and an proactive military. Like Turkey itself, it is caught between two worlds. It leans modern and progressive. The package is bright, shinny. Indeed the sexy lettering is what caught my eye. The almost boisterous name sealed the breakfast purchess. But, at the same time it is being held back by both tradition and a lack of current resources. Who could expect the "max" when candy bar R/D could never rival that of more developeded nations? An unexciting nougat layer is covered by a boring carmel. Nothing terrible, but nothing amazing. This is all enveloped in what is labled as "milk chocholate". It might indeed be as advertised, but that does not make it good. Can we expect that bringing it into the fold might spur more development? Should we overlook current short commings and hope that they will be improved in the future? Its up to the consummer.

Tablette Choco Bam- It is hard to say what flight of fancy caused me to pick this up. I think it was an impuls buy and it found its way into my sack with two loves of bread. The name does not really let you know, but this is a coconut flavored bar. That is all it is really. Just faux-coconut chocolate. I have never really heard of real coconut chocolate, so I am guessing this is about as close as one might get. Unimpressive is one word. Maybe you are a huge fan of "noix d coco", and if so you might enjoy this more than I did. It reminded me slightly of the white chocolate in the Tito Blanc. Overall, it was spead out like a thin Herseys Bar. To quote Groucho Marx "The food was terrible, and so little of it".

Tonga "Gaufrette fraise"-There are at least two diffeent flavors of these at my local store. If you can find something at my store in town, that is a sign that it is so widely available that it should be found almost anywhere. Maybe in major cities this is even seens as "slumming it". But, Im pretty sure my rural wafers are enjoyed and appriciated everywhere in Morocco. And why not? They are endoreced right on the front by a Moroccan soccer player. And they are without a doubt some of the better wafers I have had. Im not usually a fan of the dry and bland wafer, to many disapointing experiences in gradeschool I think. But, these were done well. Leave it to Moroccans to perfect this craft. Wafer, cream, wafer, cream, wafer, cream, wafter. Thats a lot to read, but it fits in your mouth with a suprising ease. You will find yourself a little shocked how quicky the 3 bars that come in each package will disapear, especially if you have some friends around. Considering that thelyave a shelf life of an entire year, I am hopeful that my local store's stock will move slightly quicker in the future. Mine were on the cusp of experiatiion. Nothing worse than stale sugar.

Faithful readers might have noticed a lack of updating. I assure you I have been hard at work getting a cavity (trip to the dentist in June said I was clean), only the will to write was lacking. However, I have started knocking though my stockpiled wrappers and hope to do some fresh research for you soon.

Tito Cookies- Ive been eyeing these for some time, trying to decide if they would prove to be a wise investment. A dirham is a dirham after all. In search of a cyber cafe snack, I seized on these in a moment of chocholate avoidence. There are some candy products that feature differnt colors because they attempt to represent a variety of flavors. There are also some candys who have a lot of colors because they look pretty. These cookies are the latter. Each cookie is rather pleasently hard and not unenjoyably plain. Not a super sweet hockey puck, but more of a plain pecan sandy. The rainbow colored sweets that stud each cookie may or may not be chocolate, but it is impossible to tell. A package has 4 cookies each which is a nice feature, the kid next to me in the cyber was the happy recipient of one and he seemed to give it a good review. Strangely the package cartoon characture of perhapes an Arabic man as the other memebers of the Tito family. Overall, I will be buying more.

Regalo's- The package looks great. If the gataux inside was half as good as the package, this would be a great thing to buy. First, I should mention that the heat is now such that many candies come premelted. Not just soft, but undistinct and smushed into the wrapper. This is one of those. But, it was still clear the innovation here. A wafer base with hazlenut cream globs on top totally wrapped in "chocholate". Each little hump of hazle provides a mellow bust of creamy flavor. This would be a much better product in the winter, I will revisit it then.

All Right!- If one was to name a candy bar, there might be the temptation to really play up the quality. "Amazing" "Delicous" or "Tasty". But, the makes of the All Right were more honest and realistic in their nominclature. This is another fairly middling product in the Snickers mold. The package excitedly boasts that it is "covered with chocolate taste". A bit of international flavor, this was made in Brazil. What caused the good people of Kala Maguna to sell Brazilian Snicker ripoffs and not a more homegrown copy, I do not know. It also has an American style nutrition chart (17% of your satfat), so perhapes you too can find the All Right! somewhere in the states. This bar came helpfuly refridgerated.

Pacimo (Bananna or Orange). I do not know how to make the "c" into one of those french letters that sounds more like an "sh". But, it should have that. This is fairly unique in the world of candy bars. Notably because it lacks a certain solidness that is suggested by the word "bar". Pillow would be more appropriate. The verbose package says it is "milky cocolin coated banana flavour cream filling with nougat bar". Im not sure what cocolin is, nor vwhere the nougat was. Simply put, this is a line of marshmellow filling impregnated with brightly colored syrpe jelly, wrapped in "chocolate". The orange was decent, but the bananna flavor was extreamly fake and not very good. Not unlike the flavor of banana Runts, but without the fun authentic shape. If you are looking for something a little different, this might be a good choice. It avoids being one of the many trite imitations that seem to proliferate, and stakes out its own sweet niche. I have seen a cherry flavor, and will report back when I can. Product of Turkey.

Gotcha!- When I think of this I am reminded of the old funk song "I Gotcha", which amoung other places had a nice role in the cult classic "Reservoir Dogs". In the song the object of adoration is beseached to "give me what you promised me". This bar does just that. As advertised it is a "delicious chocolate flavour coating with Wafter, Caramel, and Cereal Centre". Nothing sneaks past you, it is all right there to be enjoyed. In a previous review I admonished a bar for looking like a sweet version of Frankenstein, being pieced together from several different parts seemingly leftover from other candies. While the Gotcha! shares this, I think it rises above. The sum of the parts is much greater than the individuals. Puffed rice cereal isnt that great anyway. One nice thing is that the wafter gives the gotcha a solidness that sometimes isnt found on warmer days with some others. But, like the hollow bones of a bird which give strenght but are still light enought for flight, this core does not weight down the bar as some pasty nougats can. Yet, this amalgeration smothered in carmel does still gives stomach satisfaction. Also similar to birds, Im not sure how it does it. The smart people at Seville Products Ltd located not in Spain but in the UAE will hopfully find a way to use their home megaport of Dubai, to get this candy bar to the USA.

O-LA. I suppose this name should sound kinda sexy. ooooo-la!. Not since 7-up has the hyphen played such a central role to the name of a product. In this case it is essential, an ola would be toally different. Sadly, my rambleings about this name is the extent of intersting elements of this bar. A sexy shiny wrapper stuck on a Marco, a sad lack of improvment and innovation from our friends in party town Dubai. Under the delicous heading of "hydronated vegitable fat" it lists; palm, palm kernal, shea, and illipe. Interesting we are requested to keep this bar out of direct sunlight.

itto (regular or Maxi)- I am embarrised to admitte in very late july that I ate these over Easter. Found in a box at my local store, they were nothing special. If memory serves correctly large but thin and flat disks of chocholate cookie. I felt they could use a a nice center, it would be intereting to try them as part of an ice cream treat in the vein of something I used to assemble at DQ. The cleverly named "Biscalas" (after their major product and the mountain range of Moroc), did not provide a "maxi" quality cookie, though a nice spot of sweet that promises not to melt is always nice and thoughful for the weather found here.

Tango- If any cookie can claim to be ubiqutious to the Moroccan hanout, it is the Tango. 4 cookies, 1.5dh right down the block. Nothing special, yet comforting and calming. It is probaly the artery thickening amount of oil that helps slow down the pulse, but it might also be the familur two toned sandwitches from my childhood. We have all at one time been the recipiant of a pair from massive and cheap Always Save flat of cookies, and a cup of fruit punch as some sugary pavlovian reward for finishing a school day. Nothing says family like coming down from a huge sugar high right when Dad crosses the threshold, and it is good to see that the experience can be global. We are advised to keep these cookies in a cold place, but I assure you that they could be stored inside an oven without any noticeable change. It is worth a mention that Morocco seems to have a stronger propensity for naming things after cities in Morocco, or in the case of streets after Kings. The makers of Tango, Bimo, can be found in Casablanca Bld Chefchaouni. Any guide book will let you know that Chefchaoun is in the heart of the Rif mountains, the type of place known for people getting the munchies. Is this just chance that the Bimo company is here, or was it clever planning.

Tito Tartelettes (Chocolate or Cherry)- The name tartelettes brings to mind some girls I used to know, perhapes the Tito mascot is meant as a baffle. You get 2 per package, which is double the norm. On occasion, it might be possible to get 2 for the price of one but it has always seemed more a matter of luck than personal shopping skill. Ive long felt it is only the grist for urban legond. Each one is a little bigger than the average cookie, but Ive never found that to be prohibitive or even unenjoyable. Fancy scalloped edges dress them up a smidge, but underneath everyone is the same. Not being shy or bashful, these open faces are a welcome change from the typical games playing required to make a real assessment of what is inside. Again, a little more than the average, a smooth unblemished delisous pool of filling awaits. Any flavor is good, I dont hold prejeduce and suggest you dont either. Afterall, how often can you ravish one then move onto a second?

Maximum (Hazelnut or Coconut)- There is officially a new king in town. Ruling over other candybars with a sweet benevalence, this is a high priced produce 2dh (a quarter). It excells in everyway. The chocolate is smooth and milky. The crisps are crunchy without being to pronounced. The cream filling is like silk and in both cases is just sweet enough to be enjoyable without being overly chemical. It is easily the best coconut product I have stumbled on. At one point I thought these contained carmel, but I was only so excited by the smooth flavors that I was confused. I was first intorduced to these in Rabat, and at one point made a 15 minute detour just to get to them. There are things worth walking for, and this is one of them. Not sure if I would suggest 10,000 miles, you should just take the plane. The package lets the worried customer know that it does not contain pig fat, something that is a comfort devout followers of Mohammad, Abraham, and Vegitarism. Produced in what was once Constantinople, the AKP should stock every PX with these and some good coffee and grateful generals will come around to a new more Epicurian view of seculerism. Alturnative joke, these are so good that Pope Benidict would turn into a liberal traitor to reunite with Eastern Orthadoxy.

Coco Moon- This is a small quirky bar that I found in the Errachidia bus station. Lonely Planet calls Errachidia "a boring town", and as you can guess strange things collect together in a raggedy place such as their bus station. The Coco Moon is one of those, its wrapper is so thin it seems the makers hoped to save a tiny centime somehow. Much like Errachidia, the CM is boring with unexciting flavor betraying what is expected to be tropical and intresting. Produced in Egypt, one can hope for much more. Note: candy dealers in the bus station are sharks, not great guys nor even remotely knowledgeable about the coming and going of the buses.

City Cocomis- Also bought in Errachidia, a person could hope that a good candy could be found in the style of "Mounds" (note; somtimes I want nuts with my candy, but in this case I do not). This is equally uninteresting as the CM. I am not sure why the name is has "city" in it, there is nothing urbane to be found here.

Sorf- It is possible that the name of this bar is Surf with an umlot above the U, it is difficult to tell from the label, which features a man wind surfing on the front and two curious ditto "wave" marks on top of the O. Another of the Mars variety, simple with nougat, carmel wrapped in chocloate. But, something went wrong here. This is not the tasty and simple treat that you might expect. It is dry and unsweet. My bar was also crushed (but unmelted). It might look like a slick and professional, but avoid.

Roxy- By the Simsek company this is an interesting addition to any meal or a quirky snack. For those wishing to try something a little different the Roxy offers sweet vanila nougat studded with fruit wrapped in "chocholate". A close reading of the label shows the flavors of strawberry, orange, apricot, quince, and raison. It takes an imaginative person with excellent vision to realize that the ugly pear shape on the front is a quince. 1.23% in a fruit powder, a very exacting person must be behind this. Overall, if you are looking for something that doesnt have peanuts or carmel in it a good choice. Limited avalibility can make this a hard to find.

Fito- My parents came and noted (with minor apprehension) the amount of candy I was eating, and the lenghts I would go to find new things to try. One place that I have still not fully sampled is the grand taxi stand of Azroe. The town is tucked up in the Altas Mountains and is the meeting place for highways from both Fes and Meknes and stands as something of a gateway between being almost in the big cities or almost in the rural country side. Im about...8 hours south, but I try to make a quick sample any time I am in the town. The Fito is a strawberry nougat bar. Right away, your interested I can tell. Its a little different, isnt it? Just one flavor, and trying to do it well. If you are or were a fan of the Quick bunnys strawberry syrup in your milk, you will want to make a visit to Azroe. Strawberry is one of those flavors that have become so egregiously warped by modern chemicals that it can be difficult to say if something is "authentic", but one can say if the fake is on its own merits good or bad. This is pretty good. It says it has crisped rice, but I did not find that to be a major factor. This does Cairo proud.

Merendina Mini- I was in a debate with some volenteers about this. I can sum up my argument as "disapointing". First, its not really a candy bar, but a strange cake like bar. It proports to be a double layer with some choco between, like something special mom baked up for a birthday. You know you were impressed by the second layer, we all are. But, dont be here. The front of the package has a quirky graphic with arabic writing which I think is trying to say that it is a soft cake inside. Or that if you want, you can crush the cake. I found mine to be dry, and the chocolate to be insufficent. The lable shows the cakes to be riding a wave of coca, but thats just not the case. A baby wading pool is more accurate. If you have an incredible need for cake, I suppose this might work. Otherwise, stay away.

Tito Noir- For fans of old French art house films, this is tempting. Or more so than "blanc'. Nothing will come as a suprise here, it is in the style of Tito regular and white. It is hard to find dark chocolate here, so this is a good selection if you can locate it. The "huge lump of chocolate on a thin cracker" is a good business model, no reason to change it when you have a winner. If I had to rank the three, this would be the winner, with regular chocolate runnerup and white last. But, a persons own chocolate preference should take presidence.

Tura- Everytime I stray from a "real candybar" into the cake department it seems I find disapointment. It might be possible that packaging and shipping and all this defys the nature of a good cake making it impossible to create what I am looking for. But, this isnt even close. The lead up is good. A small cake with chocolate filling. In theory it keeps hands clean, wont cause major problems when melted, and will be sweet without being heavy. Much like the Merendia it was dry and the chocolate was miserly. Because I always have faith, I will keep up the search for a good chocolate cake/brownie here in Morocco, but until then stick to a good domestic product such as anything from the Little Debbie line which (along with my mothers excellent cooking) brought me though adolecence mostly unscathed.

D'Milk- I am unsure if the name of this candy bar is supposed to be somehow French, or to have some "hip" conotation. Either way, it does not seem to work. But, its more important what is in the wrapper I think. The bar adverts that it has a malted milk element, and Ill be honest that made me very apprehensive. I was picturing a giant Whopper, my candy kryptonite. But, thankfuly not the case. It was instead a slightly melted but smooth and yummy carmel chocholate and nougat treat. In the style of the humble Mars bar, but somehow (the malted milk?) different and delicous. This will need to be retried in a cooler time this winter, but a winner for sure.

Dinero (Chocholate)-I spied some new gattofrites at my local store. Its not hard to notice a huge stack of anything that wasnt there before on these shelves. The gattofrites is an area of sweet that has grown on me in my time here, and I sometimes like to induge myself. For no real reason, Im weak. I thought I would check, what flavor are these new ones? In the "what the heck are those?" kinda silly conversation I have here a lot, it was discovered they were chochlate. Yes! chocolate! I want it! I have it! I took them home, sat down to make some lunch and while it was cooking pulled my nrw prize out. Indeed, the label shows a large bowl of chocholate pudding, some choclate squares, and what I think are cocoa pods/beans. My first bite first reaction was "well now, what the hell flavor are these?". So devoid of flavor were they that the previous knowledge both spoken and pictoral was driven from my mind. Any suggestion that these were supposed to have any interaction with my taste buds was rended moot by an stuptifing blandness. Almost impressive. These should have been served for desert in "My Dinner with Andre". If turned into a vaporous element, they would be a Nobel Gas. If psycoanalysized, would have dreamt of mother wheat from feelings of inadaquacy. Transposed into musical score, would not even have been light jazz more likely white static. Even these jokes give to much credit, the mental idea of something of anything is more than the nothing that these are. You get the idea. They come in 4 squares, instead of the more common long rectangle. This could be an interesting feature, but somehow adds to the boringness. Also, you feel like you are getting less in a package. They do feature several layers of frosting and frite, which is visually appealing but leaves the user wondering with even more curiosity where the love is. Dinero is Spanish for $$$, and the rich textural thoughts that this language of passion conjures up on the wrapper zing more than what is inside. Maybe there are other flavors.

Tito Cookies aux dragees- The name makes me think these cookies have some element of dragon about them. I don't suppose one would eat a dragon, but if you did, I'm sure good things would happen. Consult Harry Potter. What these do have are multi-colored choco chips, which are almost on par with dragon. The explosion of color really sparks up a cookie, esp when the best cookie available is only going to get a B grade. I appreciate the innovation and high quality craftsmanship the people at Tito bring to every product they make and thus give them the title "The Kiebler Elves of Morocco". The cookie itself is dry, but not excessively so. It reminds me of a pecan sandie almost. Light and enjoyable.

Tito Cookies- I'm not normally one to judge a book by its cover, but the cover of these cookies is warm and inviting. The cookies are no longer warm, but almost beg to be bitten. Two or three bites will do. These are excellent in milk; I think they even improve on the taste of the milk itself. Similar to the above review, the Elves know not to screw up a fairly decent thing.

Twice-First I will say that no matter how low the US is scoring on standardized math tests, Morocco is scoring lower. Then again, we also have you know...a bazillion dollars more to spend much of which is utilized on silly tax cuts and unsilly bombs. That aside there is no reason why Twice should encounter the mathematical issues it does. The package shows a single long cookie biscuit with two tunnels of chocolate, covered in more chocolate. The package also claims this as being "two" biscuits. Its not, its only one biscuit with two parts. Twix has two. One, then another one is two. This is just one cookie that a person could split into two parts, were it fairly simple to break cookies longitudinally (its not). However, a bigger issue was awaiting me. No chocolate. Perhaps the "twice" was also a reference to the chocolate one would find, but I never even got the once. To quote a fellow who has little skill in math or language, our own 43rd President, "There's an old saying in Tennessee—I know it's in Texas, probably in Tennessee—that says, fool me once, shame on—shame on you. Fool me—you can't get fooled again."!"

Zoogo Kiddies mini swissroll strawberry- This sounds like a sentence by a small child, to whom you could feed this roll while on an outing to the zoo and thus really use this product for its intended purpose. I ate it at the Iminchil Wedding Festival, which turned out to be only slightly less than a zoo, and also full of kids (PCVs). It did live up to its name of "mini", in size and flavor. It's made by "Euro Cake", but produced by Do Freeze LLC in Dubai. Outsourced manufacturing? Middle East takeover of the snack food industry? The package is covered in a circus of cartoon animals, sure to provide entertainment much longer than the swissroll. This product Halal, in case you were worried.

Joy-There are some girls names joy, but I've though it was unwise to name people after characterizes that they might or might not have later in life. Chastity always seemed to be playing with fire. In any case, when you have a final product you can get a better if it deserves such a name. This does. To be honest, these are cheap, basically on par with a Tango. But, they have an honest and simple smiley face printed on them which communicate the essence of this taste treat. That you should eat it, and be filled with a certain type of serene happiness.

Voyager-One of my more favorite bars. The voyager starts with a standard cookie base with a wide Mississippi River sized groove down the middle filled with a stream of very good Carmel. Then covered up with chocolate. I know its simple, but somehow the combination works out very well. Difficult to find, but well worth it.

Snoopy au fraise-There is an unspoken rule in the world of 1dh cookies. 4 per package. But Biscatlas breaks this rule, providing a scant 2. They are slightly larger, but still insufficient to make up for the slight. Each side of the cookie does have a strange smiley face stamped into it, which doesn't turn my frown in any direction.

Gotcha! (Update)-Loyal readers heard it here first, that the Gotcha! Was the bar to beat? Recent discussions with PCVs have shown strong support that the best bar in Morocco is this one. People throughout the Errachidia and Ozzazzate provinces are going out of their way to find it and enjoy. Don't you feel special to be a trend setter?

Bito-Picasso said that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, and the people over at Covertina (Egypt) must know the fine product being stamped out in Casa by Tito. They tried for a certain innovation of flavor, the Bito features Mango Nugate with Crisped Rice covered in Chocolate. The rice isnt necessary, but I suppose it cuts costs or something. Its impact was negligible; it was difficult to taste it. I had the assistance of 2 other PCVs in tasting, and we all agreed that this needed some more work.

Genoise Classic- The Dolce Madre makes me think of the superior baking of my own sweet mother, which is far better than any snack cake by this company. It costs a whopping 2dh, but you do get more medioracaty then a person might normally find. A basic dryish two layer yellow cake, wrapped in chocolate. The package claims that it contains only .2% chocolate, which is impressive. I must have been eating a lot of other stuff instead.

Marty- We are basicly talking about a Gotcha! These seem to be gaining popularity in my region, while the Gotcha! is being appriciated by more and more PCVs due in no small part to my prostatalizing. Not a bad bar overall, but Im sticking to the original.

Island- Were awards given out for each type of candy bar, this would win in the "coconut filled" catagory. It features an engaging triangle shape, bucking a trend against flat top candy bars such as the Palarmo and Marco. The Bakers Pride logo claims to be both "Delicous" and "Nutricious". I am not going to call up BP in Oman, but who are they fooling? This has the nutritive value of a stick of butter, only with better flavor. It contains (can be trust BP?) more coconut than sugar. I think this says something positive about the bar, and wish I could find it in more places than an out of the way store in Rissani. If you want one, email me and I will give you directions.

Green Apple- Rabat is known for its worldly, European like tastes. With that in mind I tried this different flavor. Fool me once... If you like the idea of hard green apple nougat covered in chocolate, then this bar is for you. If you think that sounds unappatizing, you will not be suprised. I am an intreped traveler, so I took the bullet. I was unimpressed. If I wanted to have the flavor of Europe, I would go there. I went to Morocco instead.

Chocolate Extra Fin Noisette- The first red flag should be that Im buying candy whose name I can not find. I can not say "go to the store and get me a Take 5". This is like the can of carrots that calls itself "carrots". The wrapper is nearly the same color of green that Van Gaugue used to indicate that he was...having some mental stability issues. A smallish bar that was as claimed, chocholate with hazlenuts. 3 sections, easy to share with Friend 1 and Friend 2. It weighs in at a paltry 20g's. Contains "cocoa mass". This is not the same as cocoa butter, or powder. A mystery. This poor choices was suggested by a friendly store owner, but in retrospect I think he was desperate to move some merch that other, wiser consumers were avoiding.

Mesho- The worst bar to make me want another. A simple premis, crispies with carmel covered in chocolate. But, like in so many other cases, the carmel was AWOL. Its name was at the roster, but when the important time came it was not to be found. The chocolate, a thin film hardly covering the crispies. I would have to say, Egypt, get your act together and produce some good candy. On the other hand, Ive bought them again. And liked'em.

Mejora- I appriciate a good try. Here is an honest attempt to create a chocolate bar (with almonds). Good try, A for effort. A while ago I had a friend request I look for "good chocolate". I realized that our definations were going to be different. This would not pass her test (she wanted a snickers). Nor do I consider it great chocolate, but its passable. I found it has that soft yet not smooth texture more associated with sugar and veggie oil.. That darker taste that I like was less evident. Also, not to complain about size, but its small. Almonds were a nice touch.

2006-10-17T16:59:00.000-07:00

The Official Ramadan update:

Ramadan is the official holy month of fasting and prayer. Its important to note that this is not just abstention from food but water too. It lasts from sunrise (around 5am) to sunset (about 6pm). As a foreigner I am in a bit of a cultural lurch. I am certainly not going to prayer, and have no higher reason to hold a month long fast. That said, I am keeping to it while I am in my town. If I am traveling, I do not feel any real problem with moderate consumption in privacy. Some pacific take the fasting very seriously, and some do not do it at all. It often depends on the relationship they have with their town.

In my case the relationship is still developing but I think is more than on its way. Many of adults seem happy that I am fasting more or less in solidarity. Many children think it is very odd that I would want to fast but am not being made to do so. Some people both old and young think I should go pray, as I seem to be taking the first steps in conversion.

In practice this is (about) how the fasting works. In a small town like mine, people naturally start their day rather early. Ramadan does not seem to significantly change this, though in larger cities the opening of shops and generally all activity can be delayed in the mornings. All activity is done just a bit slower, often into the afternoon work can grow very slow. I have noticed people taking naps all over town. It is not uncommon to lay down in front of your house for a quick 45mins. Sleep and a lack of energy are a natural bodily response to a lack of food and water. Card playing has become a huge pastime, and I suspect if someone wanted they could find a game being played somewhere in the streets of M'ssici at any time during the day. This really helps to pass the time until sundown, which is what everyone is waiting for.

The day "starts" now at sunset with a call from the mosque, which is the signal to dig-in to breakfast. I have had breakfast with some different families in town and each is a little different. Interestingly, people do not chug back water. Often a variety of juice, and coffee are available. Hard boiled eggs are pretty much universal, but no fast breaking would be complete without dates. Also popular is "berber pizza". This goes by different names but "agrum bootori" seems to be most common. Its basically bread stuffed with onions, peppers, spices, and is very greasy. Also are any of a variety in sweet fried and sugary foods. The favorite is chebecia. Really its fried dough with a sweet glaze. The main attraction though is a thick soup. There are a lot of ways to make this, and Ive had it with noodles, various beans, tomatoes, and/or veggies. It is the best for fixing that pain of hunger from not eating all day. If I am eating by myself, I usually just eat fruit and peanuts and drink a lot of water.

This is only the first meal. Later in the night, a real dinner is served. Its pretty normal. Now in my town the power cuts off around 10pm (when it existed) and people went to sleep. But not for long. Somewhere around 3am and 3:30am the power it flipped back on and/or a call from the mosque megaphone wakes everyone up. Its another meal. In larger cities people often stay up all night socializing until this final meal. This final chance to eat lasts until we hear the mosque call (or you fall back asleep). But, if you are still awake, its time for the first prayer of the day at around 5am. If you are inclined, no better time to make a quick prayer of thanks or just a little personal reflection than those first moments as the sun lightens the sky and warms the air.

So that is Ramadan in a nutshell. One interesting observation. In the Wester tradition all holidays are pretty well known. With a little time you could easily nail the exact day of the week for Christmas in 3546. But because Ramadan is based on the lunar calendar, it is a bit more flexible. In theory it moves up around 11 days a year. But, in asking people even just two weeks from its start they could not tell me what day exactly we would start the fast. It was up to the moon. This extends also to the end of the holy month, with the holiday of Laid. We wait until the start of the new lunar cycle, but no one can tell me when that will be exactly. We know its next week, but Monday? Tuesday? Not sure. I thought this was honestly just my town being small and not having a local astronomer around. But, even my boss in Rabat could not tell me the exact day. If the US wants to do a little diplomacy, we could get NASA on the case. But, there is something kinda nice about not knowing.

2006-10-17T16:12:00.000-07:00

Cat Stevens: Folk Friend or Foe?

This week our town generator went from working four hours a night, to zero hours a night. So Ive spent most nights listening to BBC and reading by candle light. Which has put me in closer and calmer touch with life than any Ramadan fasting (more about this later). They say we will have a new generator in 4 or 5 days, but Im not really in much of a rush right now. Its a pretty slow peaceful night, a romantic time of just me and the desert.

I stayed awake today after my early meal to watch the sunrise. Wonderful, and it made me wonder what I was doing sleeping so much over the last 26 years.

I have been having some discussions with people about faith and religion. Which does not have to be bad, it can be good. I did not know a lot about Islam before I came, and I know something more now. Maybe my aquired knowledge is not exactly in agreement with Imams everywhere, but at the same time, it gives me (and now you) some insight on how the faith works in a small town. Its more than clear that a lot of people here have no experience with another beliefe system. I would say that most people are not hostile to it, but more perplexed. The idea that I do not want to convert is not itself a threat but as I was told by one very nice elderly lady "you have to go to prayer to go to heaven". I suppose there is nothing wrong with trying to save another soul. I'm from Kansas, I should be used to this type of thing :)

One person who has not helped me in my discussions is Cat Stevens. This folk trubador made a bit of a splash in 1977 when he converted to Islam, and took up the name Yusuf Islam. People here know him as "Sammie Yusuf". I am asked if I am familur with his music at least a few times a week. This might happen when I am sitting with a family having tea, talking to young children, or recently when trying to buy an oven. Mr. Islam has been embrassed with a certain zeal, but its a little unclear how many people are really familure with his music either before or after conversion. Regardess of knowing his music, it is well known that he made the switch and there is always the question (sometimes spoken, sometimes implied) that I can follow in his footsteps. I have declined. Interestingly, Cassius Marcellus Clay Jr, does not have the same name cache. His conversion in 1975 is not any more far distant in time. I am not sure why the Sportsman of the Century is not held as a similar role model.

It is a fair thing to say that I am the only non-Muslim in my town, and if there is anyone else who does not pray they are certainly keeping it to themselves. I have noticed that young children seem particularly keen about conforming to the religous norm of the town, but people of all ages, gender, and background will initiate a discussion about prayer very openly and willingly. Something that would only very caususly in our society, is often one of the first topics to come up. This honestly catches me by suprise sometimes, and can be a little intimidating. Also, young children can have a hard time grasping difference (as they often do in many subjects). It keeps life interesting.

Community Based Training (CBT) and Me

2006-10-07T14:08:00.000-07:00

CBT. I said I would include more on this unique aspect of the Peace Corps training process, and here it is. Community Based Training (CBT) is immersion into a town with a small group of other volunteers, so that we can learn both the language and culture directly from real Moroccan families. As I said in the last post, my town was Ait Ridi. It is a small town, just west of Kelaa M’Gouna, which should be on most maps

The region is known of its Rose festival, because the local industry is growing and picking roses. Everything is about roses, and shops in Kala are pink with floor to high ceiling racks and racks of rose based products. Want rose soap? They have 5 kinds. Rose shampoo? 6. Rose air freshener? More types than I can count. Its was truly a rosey place. Interestingly, the roses are not the huge American Beauty variety with petals that ooze a soft, warm, sensuousness. They are a smaller rose, one grown not for its beauty but only for its oil. The roses are grown in long rows and picked in the morning, then sent to the processing factory in Kala to be steamed boiled and extracted. While I am no expert in this process, I am under the impression that it produces different grades of oil, something like the olive oil extraction process. Not exactly romantic, but I have found the reality of Morocco is usually not the same as in movies.

Ait Ridi is a small town, that stretches out in a fertile valley at the junction of two slow muddy rivers. The area has slowly been growing and now several town closely abut to each other so that a person can walk from one town to the next and have no idea of it. Not unlike American suburbs. Most people in Ait Ridi have some economic connection to farming. My host mother worked in the fields most days, and we raised a cow (sold to market during my time), goats, and chickens as well. The farming fields in Morocco are much smaller than their American counterparts and the work is done manually, often without the help of tractors towing tillers. In many places the irrigation is down via "targua's", which essentially divert the water from small streams that flow around the perimeters into the field and flood it as often as is needed and practical. Even in macaque, which is solidly in the Sahara Desert this is how watering is down in the small fields close to town. The main targua's are community property, and the smaller ones leading to individual fields are privately owned and maintained.

Interestingly my host father was a welder. Here in Morocco, the job of welder is more related to "metal artist" than "joiner of metal". He made doors, window grills, and various things for around the house. Many of the people in the Small Business Development work with artisans such as carpenters or welders. Its been interesting to see how while both Morocco and America have people working in these vocations, the work done can be very different.

In any case, my CBT had 4 people in it. Dave, Kellie, Becca, and myself. Because we all got to be pretty close with each other it is possible that their names will surface later. Becca is the closest person from my stage to me, so I see her more regularly than any of the other group. Dave and Kellie are on the other side of the Atlas Mountains near Azile. All volunteers are assigned to a host family, and they went from helping us take the first baby steps in the language to being people who I still send a text message or a short phone call now and again. A really great family, and one that can help shed some light on who is in a Moroccan family. But, that is for another post :)

We rotate though CBT on increasingly long stints. First 4 days, then 6, finally 8 or 9. This alternates with our time in Ouarzazate, so between the two we are bombarded morning to night with language and culture. At CBT we met at the home of our Language and Culture Facilitator (LCF), which is a really fancy title for "personal teacher". So daily when my two host sisters (age 4 and 6) were getting ready to go off to preschool and kindergarten, I was drinking down cups of coffee to prepare for my day at my own little "madrasa".

As we rotated off of CBT each group would meet and we would get our rooms back at our training hotel in Oz and everyone could share new stories of horribly embarrising events that happened to them.

Its funny to look back on CBT as being one the more idealic times that I have had so far in Morocco, but it really was. Partly because I was with other volenteers most of the time. And partly because I was not living on my own and doing all the work associted with keeping my own house. By comparison, Ait Ridi, is a lush and green area compaired to M'ssici, and maybe that left an impression on me to. in anycase, CBT was learning experience and a gradual entry into Moroccan society.

2006-10-07T14:04:00.000-07:00

So, I have a lot of explaining to do I suppose. Having been rather absent my duty to explain my life during training and such I will do my best now to catch you up as I also drop in some updates about Morocco and my ongoing life.

One thing you may note in reading this blog. We have been told (several times) that PCVs in other countries have gotten in major trouble for being excessively criticial of parts of their host country. While its natural that some aspect might either truely be wrong, or at least seem that way to a visitor or someone living there, it seems these PCVs crossed some vauge line in their analysis. You might note a general positive spin to most of my posts. This is because Im a postive kinda guy, and because we do not want any one to find this blog and say "damn, Scott is a pretty inconsiderate guy, and does not appriciate this culture, etc etc". But really, I'm still a pretty upbeat fellow.

When you first leave for Peace Corps life, its a pretty nice experience. My group met at a good hotel in Phildolphia (University Sheridan, I think), and spent the first few days in very pliminary lectures and such. Not a bad way to start it, and very nice beds. I say "we", and I mean the appromiately 25 Environmental sector people and the 25 Health sector together in one room. Both groups tend to serve in more or less the same types of areas and our work compliments eachother more closely than either the Small Business Development or Youth Development.

An interesting point to make is that Enviroment is mostly men, and Health (partially due to many Maternial Health volenteers) is mostly women. So you can guess our groups have a certain level of interest in each other which is not entirely professional in nature. Some things, change very very little.

From the City of Brotherly love, we flew out of JFK (a fitting airport to leave from) right to Casablanca. It was a direct flight, and while the food was good, the movies were not. Such is life. Casa is home to the major international airport here, and about an hour and a half bus ride from Rabat where we went directly. I say an hour and a half, but honestly I slept most the way. Morocco is on GMT, with no changing for daylight saving. I think the time change was about 5 hours from the East Coast at the time, so when we landed and cleared customs by around 8am, I was still in relatively good shape. But, that didnt last long, and it took a few more days to catch up. Fortentially there were many more lengthy lectures in the next few days.

Rabat is not exactly a tourist Mecca, but I now know it has some great things that larger towns have here, and I wish I had taken closer note of. Namely, the video store. These lectures where pretty basic and helped us to get a better idea of what we were getting into, they also served as a good time to give us a lot of vacinations. The hotel we stayed at in Rabat was...nice. Really a quality hotel by any standards, even if the beds were a bit hard, as were the pillows.

Waking up one night around 5am, my roomate Brandon and I talked quietly as people do when they wake up in a new country unsure of the future.
"Scott, are you thinking of what Im thinking of?"
"No, what are you thinking of?"
"Bedbugs"
"Now Im thinking of what your thinking of."

Sadly, after to few days, we had to move on to our final training areas. Environment is is Ozarrazate, and the Heath is in Azilal. These areas were picked because they are close to towns where the different languages that we would learn are spoke. Im sure there are some other reasons they are picked as well, like decent hotels. Sadly they are around 8 hours away from eachother, so it was impossible to see our Healthy friends.

Ouarzazate. Called by tourism promoters "The Hollywood of Morrocco". Its where Gladiator and City of God were both shot. Its a medium sized town and generally a nice place for us to slowly get our feet under us in this new culture. This is where our "real training" took place. Stage (thats French for training), consistes basicly of two main parts. Community Based Training (CBT) and Ouarzazate. Both involve about 4 hours of language a day, but CBT is more hands on and technical, where is the time we spent in Oz was more lecture style. Also CBT is, in a community with a small group of people, where as Oz is with all 25 of our fellow trainies (PCTs). My CBT village was Ait Ridi, and I think Ill post about that later and in more detail.

Stage lasted until May 22nd, where we had a very nice swearing in ceremony at the nicest hotel in town followed by everyone relaxing. Many peope decided to relax in a way that is common (but not exlusively so) to the younger generation. This can be an excellent way to share time with friends, but does leave one a bit bleary eyed the next morning when we had to ship off to our final sites. My bus left at 8am, and I had a ticket with both destiny and M'ssici.

2006-09-19T08:32:00.000-07:00

Hey!

Well you found my blog. Maybe I send you here, maybe a friend sent you, maybe you found it by accident. Welcome.

As you are almost all aware, my name is Scott McKenzie, and I live in M'ssici Morocco. Its really small and probally not on your map. Its by Alnif. If we had a southeast corner, thats where I would be. Its on the edge of the Sahara Desert. Its hot in the summer, dry, and we have camels. We do not have shifting sand dunes, but we do have frequent sand storms in the afternoon.

I am an Environmental Educator for the Peace Corps. But, as I am finding out that gives a lot of leeway towards other projects that my community needs and wants. I got into the country in March 2006, and will leave around the end of May 2008.

On this blog I hope keep you updated on my activities, and give a first hand account of what Morocco is like. I'm not objective, but I hope to provide balence to all viewpoints. There are many things here that take a lot of us PCVs either by suprise at first or become incredabely bothersome after some time. Most of these are the result of cultural differences, and I hope to make those clearer to you my reader. In theory, writting about them might help me understand them better too.

As a bonus, I am interactive! If you have a question, send it to me. Im happy to answer them. The email is scottmckenzie1980@gmail.com

Also, it is entirely possible that I have missed sending this blog to someone. Or you have a friend
who could benifet from reading. Maybe a prospective PCV. In anycase, please forward the link.

As a quick disclaimer: I do not speak officially for Peace Corps. The thoughts and words contained here are mine, and not theirs. If you read this and in any way thought it was connected to an official publication or stance of the Peace Corps or the American Government then you should re-think this openion, as its wrong. I represent only myself and no other person or entity.