Morocco (long and detailed)

Neil and I just returned from Marrakech, threw some clothes in the laundry, and sat down to upload all of our pictures. Neil went a little photo crazy, but that's fine.
Day 1:
We left on Wednesday morning, pretty early, and we were starving by the time we got to Marrakech. Security into the country was pretty lax, we had a little trouble finding an ATM in the airport but eventually got it. We took a cab from the airport into the center of town. It cost about $15, was an old hatchback, and didnt have any seat belts. The drivers are crazy. People pass on all sides, in whichever lane they choose, bikes and mopeds weave in between cars, and mule-drawn carts try to as well. The cab driver dropped us off at "the door" which I had read so much about when I was looking at the hostel. Apparently, the street to the hostel is closed to cars during the day, so we had to get out and trek a little while. It really was like a movie. There were shops everywhere and a maze of small streets, the craziness of which I cannot do justice. Tucked back behind a number of twisting turns was our hostel, in a neighborhood that seemed uninhabited, but was apparently full of houses. We had booked two beds in the four person room and our roommates had not yet arrived. Starving, we decided to head toward the "big square" and search for some food. My limited French got us there and we let ourselves be guided by the waiters who stand in the street shoving menus at tourists. We ate outside at a restaurant which we later realized was called "Fast Food al-habab" and was apparently recommended by lonely planet. We both got chicken shawarma, which was really really good, and cokes, for about $7. Small children selling tissues came by, and since Neil is sick, I spent about fifty cents on some. Then we explored the marketplace and did some shopping. I did so much shopping. Its actually really scary. My french isnt great, neither is their english, but we have to haggle. Everything seemed to start at around $30, no matter what it was, and I usually haggled them down to $10-12. At one point, we went into a rug store and quickly realized that we could not afford any of the rugs there. There were about four men who came to show us the rugs, pulling them from the middle of stacks piled along the walls, spreading them out over every inch of floor space, and then on top of each other when that ran out. I felt terrible, because looking at the tags I could tell we couldnt afford them, and he kept assuring me a "shocking price," but I knew it wouldnt be enough. We headed back to the hostel to drop off our stuff, but stopped in many of the shops on the way back. We were on our way back out to Djemaa el Fna when we met Alexis, and English man who was also looking to eat dinner. He came with us and we ended up eating in the middle of the square from one of the stall vendors. We all had couscous with beef, and it ended up being about $8 for the two of us, including the moroccan salads that we didnt order but were inevitably brought. Every meal is usually followed by mint tea, which is amazingly good, except the tea at this stall was very sweet, so I was misled in the beginning. The stalls are all in competition to get European tourists to eat with them, so they would applaud every time some decided to sit down. However, Alexis was black, and apparently I have a moroccan face, so we didnt get any applause. We finished eating and had mint tea, then went to explore the marketplace. There are people performing everywhere, but the locals surround them pretty heavily so you couldn't see anything. Also, as soon as we got close to a performance, someone would come around with an upside down drum or hat asking for money. I kept some small coins in my pocket, but if you don't give them enough they aren't happy. We went back to the hostel pretty early because everything starts to pack up around 10pm. Our roommates were already asleep when we got there, so we just called it an early night and went to sleep.
Day 2
We got up fairly early for our day of tourist stuff. We were armed with our map (given to us by the hostel, although they told us that it was ten euros, let us debate whether it was worth it, and pay them, before they laughed at us and gave us our money back. We went up to the mosque next to the square, but we couldnt get inside. We took some great pictures and then walked through a garden behind the mosque. Eventually we found the Saadian tombs, once we were pointed by the man who owns the spice shop. The tombs were amazing, ornate, and enormous. When we left we had to go to the spice shop, and I ended up buying a few things. After that we headed over to the Palais Badii, but got sidetracked in a little shop. That guy had some small rugs on the wall, but he didnt know the price because his boss was asleep across town, so we would have to come back that afternoon. He then took us through a small labyrinth to another shop, where we proceeded to "make a deal" for some rugs. They weren't actually rugs, which we couldnt afford, but are called kalim. We left, and actually did make our way to the palace, which was mainly ruins. There were storks on the rooftops, the biggest birds I have ever seen. It was really scary and I made Neil go into all the rooms first to make sure there were no birds inside. We also went onto the terrace, even closer to birds, and Neil got yelled at for taking pictures. Leaving the palace, we made the mistake of looking slightly lost and were able to find ourselves a local guide. He was probably fifteen years old, and he refused money at first, but offered to show us around. He took us to the Jewish Quarter and showed us a synagogue that was very pretty. The men worship on the ground floor, and the women worship upstairs behind them. Then he took us to another spice shop, I'm pretty sure it was run by his brother, who may have also lived in the shop. He invited us in, and gave us a demonstration of all the products in the shop, some of which we ended up buying again. I got a small facial and a pumice stone and lipstick as a gift. Another man came in and brought us mint tea. We left, our guide was waiting for us outside, and he led us to a restaurant for lunch. The restaurant was clearly a very nice one, and was the most expensive meal we ate the entire time. We got a Moroccan Salad, which came with about ten different small sides, cokes, entrées, a fruit plate, and pastries for about $60. I ordered the tangine with lemon chicken, which had an indescribably amazing sauce. Neil ordered a pastilla, with choice of chicken or pigeon, although I made him get the chicken under threats of never kissing him again. After lunch we made our way to the Palais Bahia, waited for it to open, and marvelled again at the intricate detailing of everything in this palace. I thought I had seen very detailed chateaus in France, but they were incomparable to the things we saw at Bahia. By this time we were dying to get back to the room and drop off our rugs, so we took a small detour, bought a few more things, and made our way back. By that time the rest of the museums were closed, so we went out again to the main square for dinner.

The election came and went and I am a terrible person for only having gotten to it now. You might be (then again, you might not be) surprised at the tremendous shift in attitude toward americans. A few weeks ago we were at the University of Chicago Center (marketing by the study abroad department as our 'safe-haven in Paris') and a friend of mine was trying to print something. One of the directors comes over to help and starts yelling in French about how he has ruined everything. He fixes the printer, gives my friend his picture, my friend says thank you, and his response was "merci pour l'imperialism." Thanks for imperialism? Really FRANCE?
One day, on the train coming back from class a guy gets on who looked borderline homeless and crazy. He was black, and he starts talking to another black guy near us in French. I heard "Black is beautiful" in perfect English and just figured he was a little crazy. When we got off, a friend of mine had been standing closer and heard him basically say "look at this group of kids speaking english. They must be american and wealthy. they are probably going to get murdered."
The day before the election some friends and I went to a pizza place nearby. The election was being covered on the French news station, and although we couldn't understand what was going on, one of us would randomly yell "OBAMA" whenever his face appeared. We were the only customers sitting inside. At one point, one of the owners was nearby fixing something and started asking us about the election. Who we were supporting, if we really thought Obama could win. I told him except in the case of voter fraud, which is a legitimate concern. Then he brought up 2000 and Jeb Bush and we talked about that for a while (all in French, might I add). But, despite being loud and American all night, we left to a pleasant chorus on bon-soirées.
Two nights ago I went out in search of food at about midnight with some friends visiting for the weekend. Outside of a restaurant, another boderline crazy person started talking to us and realized we were american. he asked if we were happy about the election, we said yes, and he took turns shaking our hands. As we walked off he started yelling "HOPE" down the street over and over.
Election night itself was crazy. There were a number of American bars and restaurants that were staying open all night to air the results, but they were all so packed there was no use. We also had our final two days from then, so we were trying to get some pretend studying in. We ended up staying in the dorm and going to the election party they had in the basement. The problem was that they only have French cable, so someone had to bring their computer down and stream MSNBC. Which would hav ebeen fine except that the internet here streams for about five minutes at a time before having to refresh. It was fine though, they had free pizza at 3 and beer for a euro, which actually only served to get spilled everywhere by the unamericans who had shown up. There were three McCain supporters there, out of a hundred. However, now that I think about it, I'm sure they didnt vote at all. They were actually drunk the entire time. By three one girl had wine rolling down her chin, was calling me a bitch for not letting her whisper in my ear, and trying to punch our dorm president because he wouldnt stop hitting on her. He is sleazy and looks like a hobbit.
My friends and I were called the Obama Girls all night. I, having left all of my Obama gear in IL, had to borrow a shirt from my friend. The only extra he had was the Bros Before Hoes shirt, over Hillary's picture I taped one of Palin. My friend Olivia spent all day putting the Obama symbol on a white tshirt, my other friends just dressed in red, white, and blue, and we all painted OBAMA or HOPE across our faces. We had to take so many pictures that night. None of the states were huge surprises, but you should have heard us when Ohio was called. We were planning to go to bed after it was clear, but none of us could. We had to watch to the end. Then at the end, we had to watch the speeches. By the end of the speeches, the group of over a hundred had dwindles to maybe twenty, and all of us were crying. There was one black girl there who was wailing and rolling on the floor screaming "I'm finally free." There were a couple of us there, and the white people kept looking at us and looking at her trying to figure out what she was doing. She was also one of the people who cheered when McCain won states. So don't worry, as much as we can be proud of Obama, we still have those black folks to be ashamed of, i know we were going to miss them...

We just finished another "quarter" of civ. our professor this time was the most ridivulous person i think ive ever met. He is one of the leading experts on Montainge alive today (according to his wikipedia page) which I'd believe. When we got to Montaigne, he pulled out three or four huge books that he had written about him, one for which he had one the French Super Important Awesome Medal of Honor. Then one day he casually mentioned Jean-Paul Sartre. It was something like "when i used to meet with Jean-Paul Sartre, he told me-" except he was cut off by all of us going what?? apparently, in the 50s or 60s JP was his mentor and they would have coffee three times a week. wtf? Then, he started explaining to us (again) the difference between France and America. Today his focus was on the rights of citizens. Basicfally, France throws away personal rights if its for the good of the commonwealth whereas the US is legally bound by the constitution to uphold personal privacy and property rights (ex: search warrants arent ever necessary in France). I didnt explain to him that some of this was due to a lot of long standing abuse of power by police in America. He then started talking about how, in France, rioters never get arrested because they are in a group. They aren't acting as an individual, so the individual can't get in trouble. Someone brought up the fact that there is an astounding amount of police brutality in France to which he responded "oui, zat is true, but you just have to beat them up when no one is looking." apparently, our professor was also the leading expert in Paris on molotov cocktails in his day. His son got arrested in the US for jumping and dancing on top of a police car during a riot, to which his parents responded "of course!"