My Birthday

Posted on June 8, 2009 by Flattop

Yesterday I got up to catch a train to Meknes from Marrakesh and made it to the train station 5 minutes late to have a 2 hour wait for the next 6 hour train ride. At the time I wasn’t real happy about it. The reinforced lesson, sometimes being delayed is a good thing. Half way into the trip two young college girls boarded the train speaking English, and they had seats in my cabin. One of them, Rene is a student from Seattle and the other Sara is Moroccan. Sara and I ended up in an in-depth conversation about her being a women in Morocco and her faith as a Muslim. She is an ambitious, intelligent, dynamic young lady in the process of finishing her degree considering applying for a masters in the US if she can get a scholarship. She’s not quite sure exactly what she wants to do yet however she knows whatever it is she wants to have a positive impact on improving the quality of life for her and others in Morocco. For three hours we where engaged in a dialogue that was incredibly captivating. Her a well educated Muslim Moroccan women sharing openly about her values, believes, what she sees wrong with the system etc in a social culture that tends to limit women. For example, there are numerous towns in Morocco where only boys are allowed to go to school. Women in general are discriminated against and she has the desire to start her own business, maybe being an agent of change. While she has interest it scares her as well because of the social and structural barriers to doing so. Anyway, at the end of the train trip she invited me to come see her town, Infrane. Knowing how rare this type of opportunity is, I pounced and my entire thought plan changed to making this happen. I’ll be heading to Infrane on Friday to spend the afternoon and am excited to see more of Morocco through her eyes. I could see she has the caring compassion and drive to be an example of something better for her people. I wish her well and hope to stay in contact to see how her career and life develops when she has so many things going against her that we as Americans take for granted. Oh and did I mention, she speaks 5 maybe it was 6 or 7 languages fluently. Par for the course for a Moroccan.

I arrived in Meknes elated about the invite and to my surprise I wasn’t inundated with the hussle of what I’d seen thus far. No bartering with the taxi driver, nobody hassling me to buy from their store, nobody wanting to be my guide. In all other senses the Souq and neighborhoods where quite similar to what I’d seen but far more laid back and I feel I got a better sense of what daily life is like here. The other contrast here is there are a lot of shop makers, making their own goods in small shops along the way.

Today’s my birthday and I head for Volubilis, a 2000 year old Roman ruins city a few miles from Meknes. My first task is to arrange a ride in a Grand Taxi, one of the major modes of transportation for Moroccans. Want to know what it feels like to be a sardine in a can? A Grand Taxi is a shared taxi to the same destination. They are all old Mercedes. Four passengers in the back and 3 in front. Somehow I squeeze in for the 30 minute ride and decide I’ll bring the bus back or buy two seats instead of one for my return trip.

I spent the afternoon being a child tromping around dreaming what it must have been like thousands of years ago riding a chariot in this complex yet simple town. While we think we are so much better now days, after being mesmerized by countless mosaic-ed floors in dozens of 1700 sq ft plus homes. I wonder, are we really all that much more advanced? Sure we have cell phones and computers, but was life worse for them just because to us it’s ancient. Besides, only a few miles away are Berber villages where people live today in the most basic of standards and here thousands of years ago they had ornate homes, fountains in the courtyards, and more
Since finding a bar, beer, or any alcohol for that matter is about as easy as finding a needle in a hay stack (more on this topic another day) I decide to go to an authentic Hammam (public bathhouse) for my birthday night. Every neighborhood and every town in Morocco has at least one. The Hammam as it came from a practical standpoint at one time is now based in tradition, practicality, and the social nature of the experience.

A hammam has three chambers/rooms interconnected one after the other. The warm, hot, and very hot. Basically each floor to ceiling tiled room is a big steam sauna. Me and, don’t remember the technical name for the profession, (I’ll call him the wash guy, for the ladies there is a women during different hours) head straight for the very hot room. Abdul, my wash guy, lets me sit for about 10 minutes to allow my pours to open then he rubs some sort of black molasses looking type stuff (again don’t remember name) all over my body while he has me lay on the floor. First on my back and then on my belly. When I say rub all over that means from the top of my head to the soles of my feet and the only thing he misses is Mr. Happy. Then I get to sit in sweltering steamy heat for another 10 minutes to let whatever this stuff is work into my skin . I should mention the room is full of other guys getting the same treatment from other wash guys and the atmosphere is very social in nature. While sitting around they chat away about who knows what. In the corner of the room there are two spigots one with scalding hot water the other ice cold. Abdul and the other wash guys are busy filling rubber buckets with hot and cold water then mixing them to make a nice warm showered temperature. They scoot the buckets across the floor and when it’s my time use a bowl to dip out of the buckets and rinse me off. Then comes the scrub! Again on my belly and then on my back Abdul takes about 10 minutes to scrub my entire body with an exfoliating glove (sandpaper would be a better description) I had to purchase to participate. I’m not sure how many layers of skin where removed, however I’m shocked there is any left, and I ponder how some think this is fun as I grimace when Abdul repeatedly scrubs every inch over and over with intense pressure. This is followed by another rinse and then a massage I was looking forward to.

During this whole experience I found myself taking in the environment and wondering how the hot steamy wet room with dirty bodies in it, isn’t the perfect environment for a bacteria farm. Maybe it’s all the soap frothing on the floor. Second thought maybe that’s why they scrub so hard to remove all the skin, there’s no way there’s any bacteria left after that.

Upon being rinsed we move from the very hot to the hot room which now feels a little cool. Before we start the massage I get another washing with my own bar soap I was instructed to bring with me. Same drill on the belly, back, then rinse with bowl out of water mixed from hot and cold buckets. Ah now the massage…… Abdul contorts my body in every which position, crossing my legs and arms, pulling, tugging, pushing. I feel like I’m practicing to be a contortionist as he twist my body in knots and my spine cascadingly pops as if I’m at the chiropractor. After 10 minutes of this we’re finished and I’m free to go. Nothing like any massage I’ve ever experienced

I walk out an hour after I entered, feeling cleaner than I think I’ve ever been. Your own mother never scrubbed you this good as an infant. I head to bed pondering whether this is something I’d do again in the future, happy that I at least tried it. Decision made, I think I like taking a shower and cleaning myself better.

Tomorrow….. heading to Chefchaouen

Note I’ve added some picks from the first few days of the trip, check them out. https://www.findingflattop.com/?page_id=39

Posted in Meknes, Morocco | 1 Comment

Marrakesh, Snakes, Monkeys, bartering,… OH my

Posted on June 6, 2009 by Flattop
I’ve now been in Marrakesh a couple days. When I left you last I had decided to take the risk and head to the hotel without knowing if I had a reservations. Same drill with the Taxi’s, although I was better prepared than the first time. I went strait into demanding use of the meter before I got in the car. Several drivers haggled and refused walking off on me all quoting prices 5-10 times the meter rate. I found one driver a little nicer than the others and somehow got him laughing which in turn got me laughing. What a wonder this did, he dropt his price 80% but still double the going rate. After fifteen minutes and he’s the 4th driver I’ve been negotiating with I give in and agree to his price 20 dirhams ($1.50) Seems kind of insane I’m haggling over what to us is such a small amount, but it’s a way of life here and people expect it (not just taxi drivers, all purchases) and if you do a good job of it, once the deal is agreed upon they become super friendly and are your friend, grinning, patting you on the back, asking you to have tea with them etc. Thus, the more you can embrace the idea “it’s a game” the better.  And I love winning. 

Dumb me has no idea the hotel I selected is located on a small alleyway in a completely pedestrian area several blocks from the closest street with cars. On the way to drop me off he picks up another local passenger and a couple blocks later he pulls off the side of the road has me get out and points in the general direction of the hotel. At first I was raging pissed, I had a deal with this guy and now he’s dumping me, won’t even drive me to my hotel due to a local and I agreed to his inflated price.  I’m glad I didn’t go off on him and instead walked off miffed. It quickly became obvious why he’d dropped me off where he did and I felt relieved I didn’t react how I initially felt. Good lesson for me to remember and keep practicing.

Marrakesh, what a difference from Casablanca. Very touristy for one, the traffic while crazy is not the same frogger game, however there are numerous pedestrian only streets that tons of powered bicycles use. Ie scooters that have peddles when they run out of petrol. If you don’t watch out you’ll get one right up your ass as they zig zag in and out of hoards of people walking.

The main market square here, Djemaael-Fna, reminds me of Mallory Square in Key West. During the day all sorts of street performers doing acts, snake charmers playing with Cobras, monkey handlers, women giving henna tattoos, carts selling freshly squeezed OJ and dried fruits, etc. Be careful how close you walk by or take a look at any one vendor or you’ll end up with a snake around your neck or a monkey in your arms. And then they’ll do the negotiating of how much you owe them.

Snake Charming

 Not the way I play the game, but oh, they are sooo good and it’s hysterical to sit a good distance away and watch them work. Don’t even bother taking your camera out or consider getting a picture without some sort of compensation negotiation taking place. As mentioned above, once the deal was done they’ve been friends each time I’ve walked by. While the place is busy all day at sunset the seams break loose and local food vendors bring tables, carts, propane tanks and carts of food along with mobs of people. More locals than tourist, is surprising. The area is pretty high energy and there is extreme competition between all the vendors wooing you to eat whatever they have to offer. My eyes got set on the snail soup I’d seen before and OH boy am I glad I dug right in. These are nothing like escargot I’ve had before. A street cart with a huge pot of steaming snails in the shell. Pull up a bar stool and for a buck get a bowl full of shells and a toothpick. Pull the snail out slurp it down toss the shell in an empty bowl and when finished drink the wonderful broth left in the bowl. Nothing like I’ve ever had before. Not chewy or rubbery like I had imagined, instead super tender and ohhhh so delicious from all the aromatic spices within. I’ve been back 3 times now.

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There is a souq, labyrinth street shopping area here, as well, only far larger than in Casablanca. Again not my taste, however there are several other sites to see, Mosques on what seems like ever other corner. (non-Muslim’s are not allowed to enter and it makes me wonder why they are listed as tourist sites) A Palace in restoration from the 1800’s of a past ruler. Incredible how architecture is so much more elaborate in the past. We don’t see buildings being built with such intricate floor to ceiling decorations. As well as several other site’s which either didn’t interest me or lacked time to go see

Today, I took a day trip to a Berber village (where they make hand made rugs) in the Atlas mountains with a couple British girls, one of whom had done a solo around the world trip 9 years ago. Anyway, Imlil is a small village nestled into the base of the Atlas mountains and is a starting off point for trekking the peaks. I’m I glad I took this trip. While I’ve liked what I’d seen thus far, getting off the beaten path has opened Morocco much more and convinced me I want to spend more time in some other small places, even though my itinerary has a couple other larger cities in it.

We did a 4 hour hike into the mountains to have a delicious home cooked lunch in a mountain side village with a local Berber family. The scenery beautiful, but the lifestyle even more amazing. Here in a village with 200 homes where 2000 people live cramped into small concrete buildings haphazardly built on the side of the mountain, they seem so distant from reality yet embrace some technology. The lifestyle is spartan but fulfilling. No home has shower facilities, toilets are squat loos in the floor, yet each home had power, a satellite dish, and cell phones. The industry is agriculture, making silver jewelry, and/or making hand weaved rugs, one of which will proudly be placed at the foot of my entryway.

To answer the question of showering, each village has a hammam. A hammam is a local bathing house where one goes to get clean. An experience I intend to discover before I leave Morocco.

Another interesting fact about Moroccans is a high percent know at least 3 languages and most know 5 or more. Far more than the average European which tend to know at least a few. Abdul my guide for the day new six, Arabic, Berber, French, Spanish, English, and Italian. The thought makes my mind shrink in embarrassment over my struggle to learn Spanish.

Well, I’m off to go get more snail soup and tomorrow taking a 6 hour train to Maknes.

Posted in Marrakesh, Morocco | 2 Comments

First Day Around the World

Posted on June 4, 2009 by Flattop

Yesterday my first day in Morocco was interesting from the start. Guide books are incredible preparation for such a journey. Reading Lonely Planet (LP) on the plane either prepped me or made me over cautious from the get go. It talks about how friendly and warming Moroccans are yet warns of some friendliness being a way to become your guide for hire etc. ie they’ll help you out and then expect compensation in return. Other suggestions are on negotiating as everything seems to be bartered and locals see it as a fun part of life yet if they can take advantage of a tourist, so be it.

Well, there was a nice Moroccan gentleman on my same flight route from Miami to Casablanca via Rome. Having noticed we were on the same flight a conversation was struck up while going through immigration and customs. All seemed fine and while this guy supposedly had been living in West Palm I quickly got the sense he was sizing me up as he was attempting to help me with everything offering to assist me as I made my way to get my bags. I’m not sure if he was being genuinely friendly or I was overreacting because of what I just finished reading on the plane. Anyway, somehow through long lines, checking bags, and the customs inquiry if I was in the military (what a not.. surprise) got me sped through everyone (a big surprise) while he got stuck having his bags searched and I was off on my own.

Now I’m out of the terminal and need to get my hands on some local cash to get a taxi to my hotel I’m hoping replied to my email the night before asking for a reservation, but not had the chance to check. My cell phone isn’t access data for some reason and I can’t check it to confirm that way either. So much for technology. I’m now flying by the seat of my pants. ATM here I come, nope broken screen. ATM two, well it takes my card and spits it back out saying it can’t connect, ATM 3 no better luck here either. Now what, Oh a western union sign to the rescue and exchange a little USD for Dirham’s at a steep price.

After a short and uneventful train ride into the center of Morocco, the negotiations start. Exiting the train station head for the taxi stand well armed with knowledge from my guide book taxis are supposed to use their meters. First taxi driver knows my hotel, loads the bags, and I jump in. Before we’re out of the lot I notice his meter is off and inquire to a no no, and I stop him. We banter for several minutes in his broken English and he wants 100 Dirham (12 bucks) and what a good deal it is. Price comes down immediately to 80 while I’m insisting on using the meter. No luck, he refuses, so grab my bags and out on the lot I go looking for the next taxi. However this guy is fending for his friends as and yells ahead. I approach a driver standing by his car who was on the phone hoping he didn’t hear whatever this other guy was yelling and asked if he’d use the meter. He’s like sure where you going followed by oh that’s 50 Dirham’s, still far more that I know is standard. Now what there’s no way I’m getting a fair rate from the hoard of taxi’s parked every which way in front of the train station but I can see mass amounts of traffic down the street and go for it on my own. A block away a taxi pulls over in the street and I ask about using his meter leaning in the window sure he will, however he has no idea where my hotel is. Seems fair he’s willing to use the meter get in and he pulls up next to another car driving in what is some of the worst I’ve seen. He leans out the window yelling asking questions and now he knows where to go while I’m grinning and brimming with excitement to have jumped right in with both feet. Make it to the hotel for 9 Dirham’s. (under a dollar) Wow all because I looked like a gringo. I’m feeling all proud of myself at this stage to have saved a few bucks grabbed the bull by the horns and didn’t let this foreign environment get the best of me.

Settled into my hotel exhausted from travel but brimming with excitement to see the town out I go. Casablanca, bursting with hustle and bustle the traffic going in crazed zig zaged patterns with little regard to traffic signals. More fun however is the sport of crossing the street. Ever play Frogger? Well there is no orderly way to get across just start walking and hope to not get hit, stop, go forward, back up, go forward again to cross 2, 3, 4, 5 lanes of cars swerving, braking, honking at either the person they’re about to take out or the car they want to cut in front of. For those of you that have been to Rome, where I’ve seen similar situations this seemed far more treacherous, or my memory is failing me. How fun and crazy is this place is gonna be and Casablanca is the cosmopolitan city here.

Making my way with a handy dandy compass on my watch band (gift from Tampa Bay Brewing Company) I find my way to the Medina, old town and jump into the Souq. A souq is a street vender shopping area basically a labyrinth of narrow alleyways with thin cloth, kinda look like big sarongs, draped over the alley ways between opposite facing shops one after the other, and packed shoulder to shoulder with people looking and negotiating over their purchases.. Boy what a shoppers heaven, you could find almost anything here, rugs, gold, beautiful silver table ware sets, watches, cloths, knock off cd’s and DVD’s, pillows, clothing, and every imaginable type of cloth, you name it. Loathing shopping, I settle for aimlessly wandering and seeing what I’ll discover. Vendors selling steamed snails from a big boiling pot on a cart. Looks interesting and I no doubt will try this local treat another time, however I have my heart set on chwarma and find a local cafe serving what turns out to be not the best I’ve ever had. Hopefully I’ll have a better experience elsewhere as I’ve had my heart set on it for a few weeks now.

That’s it for my first day excursion on a lengthy journey. I’m sure I have similar exciting days ahead.

After waking up late today, I made it to the train station with no taxi issues. My skills are getting better. I’m sitting on the train on my way to Marrakesh hoping I won’t have to hunt to hard for a hotel as I can’t figure out how to make a local call with my cell phone to check ahead. Both my US number and the UK sim I have get a voice recording in what I think is Arabic. I’m sure I’m making some mistake in dialing, however even after extensive reading on the topic before arrival, I’m stumped and rolling along.

My choices when I arrive in Marrakesh, get a local phone card for a pay phone and call ahead if I can figure out the phone, or take my chances and get a taxi to my first choice of hotel in the guidebook. The risk taker I am I’ll take the risk getting a taxi to a hopefully not fully booked hotel.

Posted in Casablanca, Morocco | Comments Off on First Day Around the World

Finding Flattop is Luanched

Posted on June 3, 2009 by Flattop

The around the world adventure of finding flattop has begun. Let’s say it’s been a whirlwind until this point. A couple months ago I made the decision to take an around the world trip to see and do as much as one can reasonably pack into a year. Why? Due to the current economic climate, recruiting in the construction industry, my expertise, is in the toilet. My options became clear, develop a new market, which there are not many now, or take the down time to do something wild and crazy to explore and experience new things. Obviously, you know the choice I made. I feel fortunate and somewhat guilty that I’m out on an adventure while so many others are struggling to make ends meet.

I just made the transatlantic crossing and am at the Rome airport waiting on a delayed flight to my first stop, Morocco! And taking the time to start what many have been asking me about for weeks.

I’m not quite sure where this blog will go or what will develop with it. I’m starting it to share with friends my experiences while storing a record of memories for myself. Several years ago while going through a bad economic year and simultaneously having my heart broken, I discovered that for me travel is a cure for the soul. This journey however is not due to emotional despair as has been typical for me in the past. While I’ve had my heart broken more times than I care to remember each time travel brought me back to reality and I discovered I love it to no end. Thus I am here this time for the pure love of travel and open myself to new things, new experiences, new people, new ways of thinking, and to explore myself in a way I’ve never done.

My dream, my fantasy has become to hopefully one day visit every country in the world. Will I ever make it… who knows… will I be able to afford it?? Not unless I figure a way to make a living while being on the constant move which also allows me to return home to Tampa on a regular basis.

I am going to attempt to pour my thoughts onto paper throughout this journey and hope you enjoy following along. Who knows, maybe you’ll find flattop or some might think I’m finding flattop…

I will get more posted about my departure planning and experiences soon along with the rest of my itinerary. I am extending the invitation to everyone, if you see a location on my list you’d like to visit, get in touch and I’d love to meet up with you over the next year.

Posted in Morocco | 2 Comments