The Màlaga and Morocco Adventure! Part 2!

(NOTE: This post has been broken up due to length. Please make sure to scroll down to the Flamenco entry to start at the beginning!)

We finally had made it into Morocco- after all the previous day`s near misses, it had all worked out! I could breath a sigh of relief by then-but that was to be replaced by intakes of astonished gasps, as 5 minutes out of the port of entry the world began to dramatically shift. Cars became fewer, and houses soon begin to transform more into older dwellings. I was amazed how quickly we began to really enter Morocco- I had assumed that Morocco really began in the middle of the country. Not so- it begins a mere 5 minutes by car.

We drove for about a half an hour to finally reach Tetouan. The city was a maze of old buildings compacted in, and a few cars indicated that we were still in a city that had roads-we had come into the more modernized part of town, leftover from French colonization. We then pulled up in front of our hotel, and quickly paid the drivers our share of euros for the trip. Then, our tour guide led us into the hotel, where we were quickly shown some rooms.

It was a lot better than I expected it would be, but the hotel guide informed us the rooms we wanted would be 5 Euros, instead of the 3 Euros promised. He quickly told us that there were 3 Euro rooms, but we were willing to pay the 2 extra Euros for the rooms we had. We quickly set down our backpacks and bags, and locked them away in the room. I took a quick snapshot of the window of the room, to give an idea what our neighboring building looked like:

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We all assembled together, and with our tour guide ever leading us, we finally headed out to explore the city of Tetouan. It wasn`t long until we crossed into the pre-French part of town, and it was just as fast the feeling of being a pink elephant amongst grey ones- women were dressed in headscarves and long pants and shirts, and we even saw a women dressed in a burqa-we could only see her eyes peering from the black hood. Needless to say, our shirts and jeans screamed foreigners.

We first stopped in front of a large building- our tour guide telling us this was where the King and Queen of Morocco paid visit when they came to Teouan. It was a pretty impressive building!

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I then shifted my camera to the side, to take a quick picture of the busy street nearby, teeming with Moroccans:

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After our photos, our guide then lead us into the old part of the city. And when I mean old, I mean like-stepping-back-a-thousand-years-old. I was blown off my feet at the sheer sight of the city: to compare, I would say imagine watching a National Geographic segment into 3rd world Muslim world. And I felt like that the whole time-the only difference was, I was living it!

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Small alleyways leading into twisting turns, children darting left and right, the hum of music I couldn`t understand in the background, chickens and pidgeons in crates, fruit on display, fish being cut in the market... I could go on for hours describing it. Everywhere you could look there was something completely different- dirty buildings and beautiful mosques stood side by side, whilst head-covered women did their daily shopping and haggling. I felt out of place in this world untouched by time- only some coloring books and coca-cola advertisments made me feel this busting city was in the year 2008.

We then made our way through several narrow streets to venture to an opened area. This was the town`s local tannery- and my thoughts flew back to an even earlier time:

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The smell made my skin crawl a bit, but we quickly passed through the muddy area. Men were in the watery filled holes, curing the leather that floated in the liquid goo. Drying leather hung everywhere from the buildings, tightening in the afternoon sun. Our tour guide led us up leather-covered stairs to look down at the leather curing area, and then to look to our right to see what appeared to be an abandoned graveyard, with a fantastic view of part of the old city behind it:

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We then hurried down the leather steps to continue our tour of the city.

The next place we were lead to was a rug shop. Scott`s sister joked with us on the way that the worst thing that could happen to you in Morocco was to get ¨rugged¨. We all laughed at that, Jamie sighing as he had done this many times before when visiting Morocco. The group entered in the rug shop, the owner greeting us and leading us through the store and up a set of stairs to a to the roof of the building, so that we could get some fantastic snapshots of the city below via rooftop:

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We were then lead back down into the building, and found ourselves seated on a long couch in a rug infested room, and informed tea was being made for us. I definately had the feeling this was a popular tourist visit, but all the same was impressed by the room itself:

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The shop owner told us that this was all being paid for by the government of Morocco, and we were to enjoy ourselves. We cast glances at each other, but listened attentaviely. He explained that he was going to talk about different rugs and how they were made. He put down before us at least 30 different rugs on top of each other, with help from his assistant:

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We heard about handmade and styles, types and sizes, all spoken in broken English. After listening, we then were informed that we were going to go through the rugs again, but this time to say if we were interested in more information about them. The words to use were ´Wataf´ and ´La´ -the first expressing interest in the rug, the other saying no. Stephanie, Jamie, a couple in our group, and Zach gave the shop owner Wataf for different rugs, while the rest of us were content with our Las. Tea was then served, as the interested party went downstairs to haggle with the shop owner for rugs, as we sipped on our mint teas:

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The others finally came upstairs, the couple, Stephanie, and Jamie had got rugged-while Zach came back empty handed. They had to haggle for their rugs, as in Morocco, nothing is ever at a set price! A Moroccan will say 100 Euros, you`ll say 10- both parties going up and down until a price is met. Happy with their purchases, and of course a tip to the shopkeeper, and we were back on our way to explore more of Tetouan.

Next, we visited a nearby pharamcy, and long benches gave us more indication this was also a popular tourist destination. We were then greeted by the pharmacy store owner, and seated down quickly.

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The pharmacist then explained to us several different remedies and elixirs used to help Moroccans when they felt under the weather, or for various other ailments-from flower oils to pills to help with colds and fever. I kept thinking, `What about Aspirin?` most of the lecture, but was interrupted in my thoughts when the pharmacist assistant then gestured to me. Apparently, he was going to give me a medicinal neck massage- after my initial discomfort, it turned out to loosen a lot of my neck muscles. Another guy in our group and Stephanie went ahead and got a back massage afterwards, but I was content with my neck loosening. All the same, a tip was expected, and we then ventured back outside.

We mentioned that we were a bit hungry, so our tour guide then lead us to a nice restaurant to have a typical Moroccan meal. However, the entire lunch was going to cost us 10 Euros a piece, and several members of our group voiced no`s to paying for the pricey meal. We ultimately decided to leave the restaurant, and find some cheaper food on our own.

We then found an ATM to withdraw Dirhams, the currency of Morocco, so we would be able to buy lunch and items later on. After withdrawing money, we decided to head back to the hotel and release our tour guide. As always, a tip was expected, and we tipped him with Euros and sent him on his way.

Jamie then lead us to a small restaurant, and we had Moroccan burgers, sanwhiches, and fries all around. I was too hungry to be concerned with the food, but a quick inspection revealed all was cooked and well. We ate our lunch, the total price very cheap with dirhams!

Then, Jamie suggested we all break into small groups and explore our own seperate ways- as for him, he had to go find an internet cafe to cancel his Moroccan visa, as he had lost it earlier on the bus from Malàga. Several of us headed to the hotel, where we took a quick siesta for the afternoon. During part of my siesta, I watched a small spider hop across the room in a rather peculiar fashion. I then dubbed it the ´Deadly African Jumping Spider´to make the small bug a little more exciting- the name becoming the ongoing joke of the entire trip.

About an two hours later, Jamie returned and gathered us all together, to discuss the plans for the evening. We ultimately decided to explore the city a bit more, and find some dinner for the evening. Our group then treaded out into the cool evening breeze of Morocco, the combined air from the ocean breeze and the wind from the farther Sahara desert made the clouds fly by, much akin to a hurricane. We walked down the cobblestone French quarter back into the old part of town, getting used to the stares we received at being foreigners.

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I then saw two women walk past covered in burqas- but these ones didn´t even have eye slits. It was definately different!

We walked through the busy throng of people through different alleyways, stopping in to look at several stores and a phone store for Scott`s sister to buy a SIM card. All the way, we were greeted by `Holas`from the local children- the Spanish influence here was hard to miss, and we always cheerfully replied `Hola` back-sometimes recieving phrases as `Que tal?` or `Como se llama?`They were very eager to practice Spanish with us, as we walked through the many streets!

We finally decided on another restaurant, where we were lead upstairs to enjoy small soups and meat dishes all around. The soup was delicious, and a bottle water definately made my dry mouth happy.

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Only the soups were given silverware- a hunk of break was used to grab the meat off their dishes, as Scott and his sister soon discovered. Two tables of Moroccan families eyed us in interest as we enjoyed our night meal, and sooner than later we finally were stepping back into the Moroccan night air. We then headed back to the hotel to rest for the next morning, the first day in Morocco being an ultimate success.

(NOTE: I have stopped here for now, as to give you the reader a bit time to read these posts, and for me to relax my fingers from typing! Ill post the last chapter of the Morocco adventure tommorrow, so stay tuned!)