Bug jiggy jiggy

Yesterday while I was feeding my obsessive need to photograph flowers, I saw bugs copulating. Fun fun fun!! Have added a bunch of new photos to my flower album on Photobucket, if you're interested.

My blog is....

... all wonky. If you read it regularly, scroll down pretty far because there might be new posts you haven't seen yet!

Keeping up Appearances

[Note: Blogger is having trouble with photos today, so I'm posting this without. Will add some later.]

When I started thinking about writing this post, I decided to research a little about the 1960 Agadir earthquake. Before my research, I knew only that the entire city had been basically wiped out. It was actually a really devastating quake -- 6.7 on the Richter scale, a subsequent tidal wave and fire throughout the city. The quake only lasted for about 15 seconds, but due to poor construction standards, thousands of Moroccans and thousands more tourists were completely buried in rubble from the falling buildings. An estimated 12,000 people died and 12,000 more were injured. Here's a link to a BBC article: news.bbc.co.uk/onthisday/hi/dates/stories/february/29/

and a link to some photos: http://www.pbase.com/beunard/agadir_earthquake

Surprisingly, 36 years later a great deal of the rubble you see in those photos still remains; a lot of the old neighborhoods were never fully built up again, or were turned into shanty towns like the one behind our school.

These days Agadir is growing and changing so quickly it doesn't know what to do with itself. There are cranes all over the port area, building dozens of new high-rise hotels to meet the increasing tourism. It's so commonplace to see new houses being built that I hardly even notice them any more. However, the other day I found myself examining the foundation of a new house being constructed. To say the least, it doesn't inspire confidence when I see cinder block stacked haphazardly, the cracks sometimes filled with a lot of mortar, sometimes a little, and sometimes not at all. There are also a staggering number of holes in those cinderblocks, which may or may not serve to accommodate plumbing and electricity. I'm not so sure. I rarely see any of those metal bar thingies that "earthquake proof" new buildings. You'd think Agadir folk would've learned their lesson by now.

The truth of the matter is, as far as I can tell, only one contractor in Morocco owns a level, and he ain't the type to share. Nearly everything here has a slight lean to it. Tables, wardrobes, doorways, staircases, shelves, roads, etc -- everything is just slightly imperfect. "Quirky," if you will. It is simultaneously charming and frustrating. It is part of what makes Morocco MOROCCO. But I sure do wish, some days, that my closet doors would stay shut without me having to lock them. I'm not certain if it's because the floor leans or because the wardrobe leans. Probably a combination of both.

At any rate, despite the imperfections, things generally turn out looking beautiful. For Moroccans, it's all about what's on the outside. The don't have the money to build something sturdy and beautiful, so they opt to make it just beautiful. At least then they have the illusion of having something really nice. Nevermind that your house will fall down again the next time there's an earthquake. At least it'll look damn good until then.

Bead shop in Essaouira

Essaouira

Sunday I went with Shan, Lahcen and two German tourists to Essaouira, a small beach town about 170 km north of Agadir. I've never been farther up the coast than Taghazout, so it was a chance for me to explore a bit more of Morocco. Not too far north of Taghazout there are some pretty amazing looking caves, so I fully intend for my next adventure to involve a bit of spelunking.

The only incident of note on our trip was our stop in Tamri, where I had to pee. Thanks, Mom, for blessing me with a bladder the size of a peanut. So we stopped, and Lahcen found a WC (water closet) for me to go. I had to pay 1 dirham for the privelege of squatting over the stinkiest, nastiest hole in the ground this side of the Mississippi. It was stomach turning, but I was just thankful I got to pee.

After three hours of twisty-twisty-Niecey-sickey roads, we finally arrived in Essaouira, a picturesque town known for purple dye, windsurfing, and for inspiring artists and tourists alike. The houses inside the medina are whitewashed with cerulean blue doors. Orson Wells filmed the majority of Othello under the skala fortress. Jimi Hendrix lived near Essaouira for a while and found inspiration there for his song, "Castles Made of Sand." A young girl next to us at lunch sketched and then painted the scene near the restaurant -- a beautiful minaret and ornate wood carvings on the entrance to one of the shops near us. Why can't I be cool like that? I want to backpack all over the world and sketch and paint my memories!

After lunch we walked through the souk, along the ramparts and up to the skala fortress for a few photos before heading back to our little Fiat Punto for a reverse repeat of the twisty-twisty part of the trip. At least this time I was sitting in the front seat. On the way home we stopped a few times so the German girls could take photos of themselves in various settings and with various props. I got tickled. Here I was thinking, "I want to take a photo of that old man/woman/little kid riding on a donkey. That'd be cool." and the German girls were like, "No, we have to find a donkey with no one on it, so we can take photos of ourselves with the donkey." To me, Moroccans are the coolest thing about Morocco. So much character. At any rate, the girls got their donkey photos, and they smiled and modeled their tans. Ah well, to each his own.

All in all it was a pretty fun trip. Just wish I'd had more time to explore. I've posted photos here in my Photobucket.

Allah's blessings on our home and our washing machine

Seven months of hand washing makes me so thankful for a spin cycle and so enthralled with agitation. Allah bless Whirlpool. We finally got a washing machine in our house. It's a bit of a process, until we get a plumber to hook us up to the pipes:

1. Fill left side with clothes, soap and water (this is done with a bucket from the bathroom sink).
2. Watch the agitation. Fun. Only optional.
3. Drain water back into bucket and dump into bathtub.
4. Add more water and agitate again for rinsing.
5. Repeat steps 2 and 3.
6. Put clothes into right side for spinning. Make sure you get them balanced, or the machine will try to escape out the front door. It doesn't like to be off balance.
7. Hang clothes on the line and they'll be dry in about an hour.

Okay, so it sounds more complicated than handwashing. But trust me, it beats having bloody knuckles from washing towels.

Damn that Shan...

... for catching up on her blog before me. Now everything I post will be copycat. Grrrr. Just go and read hers instead. Saves me the trouble of coming up with a new spin on everything.

Foliage

I've started taking photos of some of the flowers and foliage around Agadir, as everything is in full bloom right now. Purrrrrty. Look on my photobucket album to see more.

I've decided

I'm kinda glad I'm here. I was walking to work this morning (which act takes approx. 45 secs door to door), and I passed by two men who teach in Kastalani, the Moroccan school that houses our American School. Anyway, these two men were smiling and holding hands as they walked. And I thought, "I like that." I like that men here feel no threat to their masculinity or their heterosexuality when they hold hands or lounge on the couch in each other's arms. I find it refreshing that men can be friends and be affectionate and not be labeled as something they may not be.

So, yeah. I like that. And I started thinking about all the other little things like that -- things that I like about Morocco.

The slow pace of life. It's not uncommon to see folks squatted down under a tree, just hangin' out, people watchin', tryin' to beat the heat. And people here stroll. They aren't in a hurry to get anywhere. If you expect to meet someone at 8 o'clock, best not to show up 'til around 8:30. Having suffered in the past (and currently, it seems) from perpetual lateness, I can appreciate this lackadaisical attitude toward time. Though at times it's maddening, like when I want money transfered to my bank account in Ireland and it takes three weeks because, well, quite frankly, Moroccans ain't in a hurry to do much of anything. Especially in Agadir, where there isn't a lot going on -- I think they like to drag things out just to prolong the sense of having something to do.

Wearin' pajamas to the shop. Need I say more?

Djellebas hide a multitude of sins. Like the fact you're wearing your pajamas to the shop.

Bismillah. People here thank God for everything, all the time. They thank God when you ask them if they're well, they thank God when any money changes hands, they thank God when they're driving, they thank God when they get there, they thank God when they enter and leave a house, they thank God when they eat something, they thank God when they burp... you get the point.

Fifteen hunnert different ways to say "How are you?" That's just plain neighborly.

People want to teach me to speak Berber wherever I go. I get in the taxi, the taximan teaches me Berber. I go to the shop, the shop owner teaches me Berber. I go to the school late at night, the security guard teaches me Berber. Etc.... It's a little bit of that having nothing better to do, and a whole lot of just being nice. People here are genuinely very friendly and warm and welcoming. Despite the whole American thing.

Did I mention the hot men?

And to top it all off, things have definitely been on the upswing ever since we discovered pirated DVDs in ENGLISH at the souk. Life's pretty good right now.

Souk in Marrakech

Our last day in Marrakech we decided to brave the labyrinth of stalls and shops and over eager shop keepers in the souk. The souk in Marrakech is actually several different specialized souks that have melded together to form one. Put together they stretch from the Jemaa El Fna all the way to the northern ramparts that separate the medina from the newer section of Marrakech. According to fodors.com, there are the following souks:

• Souk Semarine has fabrics, various inexpensive souvenirs, and a kissaria, or covered miscellaneous market, as well as spices.
• Souk Rahba Qdima -- also known as La Criée Berbère (roughly, the Auction Crier) for its proximity to the former slave market of that name -- has rugs, carpets, and sheepskins as well as apothecaries.
• Souk el Attarine has perfumes.
• Souk des Bijoutiers has jewelry, mainly silver.
• Souk des Forgerons has copperware.
• Souk Larzal is the wholesale wool market.
• Souk des Teinturiers is the wool dyers' market.
• Souk des Babouches sells the pointed slippers so beloved of Moroccans and other clothing.
• Souk Chouari is where carpenters work in cedar.
• Souk Haddadine sells ironwork.
• Souk Cherratin offers a variety of leather goods.

Unfortunately we didn't get time to see all of the souks we wanted, because Moulay came a little earlier than we'd expected to drive us to Casablanca. Must go back when I've allowed myself a lot of time for exploring and haggling. Oh yeah, and when I have some money with which to haggle. Lack of funds definitely put a damper on the souk experience. It kept me from buying everything in sight, which is of course what I wanted to do!

Jardin Majorelle, Marrakech

I've posted photos of Jardin Majorelle in Marrakech, which was just around the corner from our hotel, handily enough! 95 percent Shan's work, maybe 5 percent mine. Can't remember, for the most part, who took what. You can nearly bet if it's really nice that Shan took it, though. Hmph! Go and look here.

Minarets around Morocco

Never really got around to posting up photos from our trip to Marrakech and Casablanca. I've put up an album of minarets on Photobucket. Go and look.

Consistency

McDonald's birthday parties are the same all over the world. I feel much more at peace knowing that corporate brainwashing happens to children everywhere, no matter their race, creed or color. Parents everywhere can breathe a sigh of relief.

Rosie

Fans of R. Kelly's Rap Opera will appreciate that we named her after Rosie the Nosey Neighbor. Heh.

Reginald

I finally got him to eat something! Hooray!

Story of my life

I'm so far behind with the blogging. Got out of the habit. Trying to get back into the habit. Anyway, have updated my previous post about The Bell. Check it out.

More on our zoo

What have we gotten ourselves into? We have 11 animals that all need tending, and that means coming over here at night sometimes to feed them, keeping a steady supply of fresh veggies for the hamsters and guinea pigs and turtle, keeping a steady supply of fresh bedding and clean cages, sunlight and flies every day for the chameleons.... even the fish glug indignantly if they've been left too long without being fed. The guinea pigs... are.... stuh-ARVING all the time. At least, that's what you'd believe if you listened to their cries. As soon as they hear the key in the door, they start sqealing and jumping around the cage. And when they get some food in their mouths they are still kind of grunting while they eat, because they were sooooooooo hungry. Never mind they're being fed a pretty substantial amount two times a day. I didn't realise it was possible for a guinea pig to consume more than its weight in lettuce, cabbage, carrots, bread, etc. EVERY DAY. Geesh!

Anyway, here are the other photos I promised:

Fluffy and Princess

Desi and Lucy

Having trouble with Blogger and photos, so will post up Reginald and Rosie later on. Am sure you will be waiting with bated breath.

Long time, no see!

This is the first time in a long time I've had a chance to sit down and do something here. I'm just gonna post up a few photos to try to get this thing updated a bit.

In school, we've spent the last several weeks preparing for our Open House day, which was last Saturday. We now have a menagerie bordering on a zoo. This greatly amuses the children, to say the least, and Shan and I now have to come in on weekends to feed the critters. We don't mind too much. Here's the crew:

Germaine

Tito

Sammy

Fats

Bing

Photos still to come: Fluffy, Princess, Desi, Lucy, Rosie (the nosey neighbor) and Reginald.