_____This place is amazing. I am sitting at breakfast with Becky at this café on the edge of the Plaza and there are all these cats running around. It is pretty crazy. The host seats us at a table on the balcony that overlooks the plaza. We are surrounded by French tourists. It's the first time since Napoleon that the French have had anyone surrounded. Our waiter comes up and in perfect French asks what we would like to eat. Without missing a beat Mom answers with a litany of Arabic that has the entire café looking our way. Our waiter looks like he has seen a ghost, and it takes him a moment to answer in Arabic, "Waha." Instantly, two other waiters appear with a liter of Sidi Ali and two cups of coffee. I spit out a quick guttural "Shokran" and nod knowingly. Both of them exchange pleasantries with us Arabic. The rest of the café is still glaring and is perplexed when we begin to speak English with each other. The young French couple next to us is having trouble talking with the waiter, so Mom helps them out and we end up sharing some bottled water with them. They are amazed that Becky speaks Arabic. So am I! This response was typical for the rest of the trip. Because Moroccans see so many French tourists they assume that all fair skinned people speak French. They are dumbfounded by a Caucasian that is fluent in Arabic! On several occasions I witnessed merchants lower prices for us once Mom moved the negotiations ('the haggle') from French into Arabic. Becky said that some of the Peace Corps volunteers who are fluent Tashelhait end up getting Berber prices (i.e.- Free) on some stuff (like taxis and food) because the merchants are so excited to have someone speak their native tongue.

After breakfast we went to the Airport and collected my baggage. It got stuck in New York and had to wait for the next flight the following day. After dropping it off at the hotel we decided to go visit the Ibn Youssef Medersa which was a pretty big university in the 14th century. It housed around 800 students in these tiny 6'x6' cells.

The architecture was amazing . After that we took a public bus to a more modern section of the city to have lunch and more tea. Then we began our search for Yves Saint Laurent's Jardin Majorelle. Basically, Yves Saint Laurent is a fashion designer that keeps this awesome garden in Marrakech. It is very similar to the garden that we visited in Santa Barbara last summer, only not as big and on another continent. Needless to say it was a cool experience.

After closing down the gardens we wondered back to the new city and ventured over to The Tall Bar, which was on top of a hotel. It was the tallest bar in the city, and for all I know it may be the only bar in the city. There Mom and I drank Flag Especial beers (Which I ordered in Arabic!) as we watched the sunset. Magnificent! (Go check out Kris and Amy's Tall Bar Photos)

After filling our hashuma quota for the day we began to wander back to our hotel to pick up some sweaters before venturing out for dinner. On our way we happened to pass the main mosque right as the sun went down and the evening call to prayer was being called. It was an amazing sight. We went back and picked up some fleece and then headed out for food. Becky decided to call the 'Unofficial Group House' to see if there were any other Peace Corps volunteers interested in getting some food. The Unofficial Group House was rented out by a group of Peace Corps volunteers who wanted a nice place to stay when they were in Marrakech. There is an Official group house maintained by volunteers who have to come to Marrakech on business. The unofficial house is for people to decompress when they are away from their sites. At any rate there were some people there and they were going to cook dinner so we headed over. The group house was in the old Casbah. Here the streets are very narrow and tortuous because space inside the defensive outer wall of the city was at a premium when the houses were built. I knew that we were in trouble when Becky told me to be alert on the way in because she had yet to find her way back with out getting hopelessly lost. We found the house all right and spent a wonderful evening with Emmit, Dave, and Carol. Dave cooked some 'Morrocian Gumbo' with canned mackerel that was the best gumbo I had on my whole trip. Emmit and I played Grateful Dead and Concrete Bond songs on the two guitars they had there. A great time was had by all. At midnight Mom and I left. We didn't have any trouble finding our way out of the casbah, but man was it creepy! I was on alert for the whole walk home. It was like something out of a movie. Shady characters slumped in doorways. Sudden foreign sounds and commotion from just out of view. The occasional screaming moped on an otherwise deserted street. We both had a pretty good case of the willies.

Copyright Seth Toomay 2000

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