Rockin' the Casbah...in Rabat

T and I spent the past weekend in Rabat, the capital city of Morocco, with our friends Brian and Sara--they are Americans and former Peace Corps volunteers. We had a great time, and I learned a lot. Some highlights of what I learned:

-A Peace Corps volunteer's definition of a "good hotel" may not be the same as my definition.
-When you pay for a "room with a shower" in Morocco, that's exactly what you're paying for--a room with a shower. Your room won't necessarily have a bathroom, and it won't necessarily have a toilet.

The shower in our budget room at Hotel Central.

Another thing I learned? It's worth paying the extra dirhams, no matter how many, so I have a full bathroom (with toilet) in my hotel room and don't have to use a communal toilet. (That's what I did the second night we stayed in Rabat, when we moved to Hotel Berlin.)

-Towels are not standard. You can ask the hotel staff for towels, and you might get some. They might be clean.
-Don't assume that the presence of a toilet (even a western-style one) means the presence of toilet paper. (This is true in all public places in Morocco, not just in hotels.)




View Larger Map

On the above map of Rabat, you can see the Kasbah des Oudaias. "Kasbah" can mean "palace center" and/or "fortress." (Actually, it has more meanings than that.) We entered the Kasbah through its main entrance, Bab Oudaia. This impressive entrance to the Kasbah was built around the year 1195. As we were entering, a man stopped us and offered to show us the old "pirates' prison." I'm still not sure if he was pulling our legs, but we had fun on the little tour anyway.

The aforementioned Kasbah, which we were totally rockin'.

T and Brian standing in the entrance to the pirates' prison.

Sara and me in the pirates' prison.

We didn't do much inside the Kasbah, but we did walk through the Andalucian garden, which was lovely despite the presence of some very pushy women painting henna tattoos on people's hands – sometimes without those people's permission. (And yes, they then demanded money.)

The sea-facing walls of the Kasbah provide beautiful views of the ocean, and from there one can walk down to several beachside cafés.

We also spent a bit of time in the Medina, which unfortunately is covered up by the annoying address balloon in the above Google map. The Rabat Medina is hassle-free and much more open than, say, the Fez Medina, and we mostly enjoyed our time there.

From outside the Medina, looking in.

This is the pottery shop right outside the Medina where T and I bought some handmade, hand-painted pieces of pottery.

An unexpected highlight of our trip occurred on Sunday morning. As Sara, T, and I were walking from our hotel to the train station so we could buy tickets for our return trip home (you can see the station marked as "Gare de Rabat-Ville" on the above Google map) along Avenue Mohammed V, we remarked upon the large number of police officers and small number of other people out and about. We attributed this absence of people to the poor weather; it was raining. However, as we walked back from the train station to our hotel, we discovered the reason for all the police officers. A fairly large political demonstration was taking place on Avenue Mohammed V.

Both Sara and I had the immediate instinct to look for signs that the people might be demonstrating against the United States. Once it became clear that this was more of an internal demonstration, we just stood back and watched. We really had no idea what the people were demonstrating against, but it was still exhilarating and energizing to watch. We saw a huge variety of people marching calmly along the street – children, young adults, older adults, men and women. Some were in traditional dress, others in modern dress.

When Brian joined us, we were able to learn a bit more about the purpose of the demonstration, as he is fairly fluent in reading Arabic and speaking Darija. I still don't know a lot of details, but I know that the people were demonstrating against the unjust imprisonment of multiple individuals in Morocco. If I learn more about this, I will let you all know.

We had splurged on a grand taxi to get to Rabat, but we decided to take a train to Meknes and then a grand taxi from there to Ifrane on the way back on Sunday. I was pleased to discover that travel by train is relatively easy and comfortable.

I enjoyed watching the Moroccan countryside as we moved from the palm trees of Rabat to the apple orchards of Meknes to the mountains of Ifrane. I once again experienced a feeling that is both strange and familiar at the same time. And actually, that feeling is the recognition that Morocco is both strange and familiar at the same time.