Stories du Maroc #1

In less than a month I return to Africa. I am always amazed at where my journey takes me, and I once again hope that I will be a worthy advisary for the Dark Continent. And of course all of this Africa talk has rekindled requests for Morocco stories - and I am always happy to oblige the Brethren... Morocco is a dazzling ruby in the crown of North Africa (and I imagine that Benin will be just as spectacular). Upon my arrival in Morocco, I was amazed at how normal everything looked. I'm not sure what I expected, but I definitely did not expect McDonald's and Pizza Hut along the highway. It wasn't until we reached the Hotel Balima that I got my first taste of exotic. The hotel lobby was of a Moorish design, and there were various business men sitting on low couches - around intricately carved tables. I was thankful to find a flush toilet in my room (using the Turkish toilets, or the squat, was one of my biggest fears at the time), and my roommate Melanie, from North Carolina, and I spent a good twenty minutes discovering the oddities of the room. There were odd hooks, funny looking light switches, gaudy bedspreads (bright orange, magenta, yellow, and green), and Portuguese TV. Outside our balcony was the parliament building, and the daily protesters where outside singing their chants, begging for jobs and such. There were about 50 of us Peace Corps trainees (30 Health and 20 Environmental), and we were such an amazing group - We all just clicked. We weren't able to leave the hotel until our security briefing from the US Embassy, so several of us sat at the outdoor hotel cafe. We drank cafe au lait in a courtyard near the street, and watched the Moroccans as they passed by. I quickly formed a friendship with one of the waiters, who showed great emotion at my departure about a week later (I think I was probably tipping him too much). My first host family was a crash course on international teenagers - though not that much different from US teenagers, they were decidedly more independent and assertive. Our host families were to pick us up at the hotel for our first weekend in country, and my family (or more specifically - brothers) was about forty-five minutes late picking me and my new roommate (Channa from Maine) up. Channa and I had no idea when we had packed that morning that we would be expected to walk at least five miles through the capital of Rabat - with our luggage - in the rain - led by three teenage boys (two Moroccan and one American). The tallest boy was Aneir (19 yrs. old -the oldest of my families' sons), Benaissa (Aneir's partner in crime, also 19), and Jarrell (a 20 yr old from Connecticut-who was in some sort of Arabic language school nearby). I want to emphasize at this moment - that the boys did not carry our luggage, nor hold any sort of reasonable conversation. Now maybe Channa remembers this moment differently, but I do also remember being very upset about having to walk in the rain. I was also a tad bit anxious about the seven flights of stairs we had to climb to reach the families' apartment, while carrying all of my luggage. Upon entering the apartment - the boys simply left us, and went about their own particular pleasure (I later discovered they were smoking hash in the back bedroom). Channa and I stood in the entrance wondering what to do next. Personally, I kept looking for the adults I hoped existed, and the more absent they appeared - the more I feared for my well being. I kept imagining that I was stranded in a strange Moroccan Neverland, and would waste away like a neglected puppy. I was for damn sure not ever going to find my way back to the Hotel Balima, and I didn't know Channa that well to be certain of her survival skills. Slowly, Channa and I inserted ourselves into the apartment, and made inquiries of what in the hell was going on. Eventually, we discovered that the parents (Mohammed and Drissia) were at their country home for the weekend, and that Aneir, Jarrell, Sale (the 16 yr old brother), and Saiyd (the 13 yr old brother) were in charge of us for the weekend. My concerns were great. To be continued...