I was woken up at 5:30am to haunting chanting that reverberated within the walls of the house. It was the morning call to prayer and the amplified call to worship along with the pounding rain was surreal.
I fell back to sleep and woke up at 7:45 to Wejla, the host mom making breakfast. I got up and changed into my jeans. Wejla made a fantastic tortilla-like bread breakfast with jam, honey and butter. I talked a bit to Ashraf as we waited for the girls to get ready. At 9:00am we went to the "ciber cafe" and met up with the group. I guess everyone had a good night with their families. We piled back in the bus and Alan explained the plan for the day.
We first went to a language school to talk to Professor Zaki from Rabat University and, as I found out later, a former UCSD alumni. Sitting in a circle we asked him questions about Morocco, Islam and quotidian life. I asked him about the Israeli Palestinian conflict and the acceptance of the state of Israel. He then proceeded to give a big talk about Islam and women's rights. I also asked about polygamy and jihad; the first being very uncommon in Morocco and the second leading into an interesting conversation about American foreign policy and the state of Israel. Overall it was a great conversation and I learned a lot about Morocco and Islam.
We then drove to Chellah in the outskirts of the Rabat where there are ancient Roman ruins and an old mosque. After stopping for a snack of fresh fruit we spent the next hour exploring the old ruins. With bright green grass, old marble foundations and a colony of storks who's clicking beaks filled the valley, I felt like Indiana Jones. The old mosque was quite cool. I spent most of the time talking to people and taking pictures. A really cool sight was the ancient pool of sacred eels where a man in traditional Moroccan dress, surrounded by cats, threw hard boiled eggs into a pool. A large eel came out and ate the eggs. The feeding of the eels is supposed to bring fertility. I glanced back at the ruins as we boarded the bus and headed to the Mausoleum of Hassan II and the main mosque of Rabat.
Entering the walled gates of the mausoleum guarded by two soldiers on horseback we saw the central Minaret of Rabat. It is the sister minaret to La Giralda in Sevilla. Unfortunately the mausoleum was closed as we had come during the afternoon prayer time. Still it was fun to walk to around the grounds.
Back in Rabat we ate lunch with the homestay family. Alan joined us and we ate a great meal of fish and potatoes made by Ashraf.
We met up at the cafe and then walked to the Medina where we would spend the rest of the afternoon with Moroccan students.
This experience would be the turning point on the trip and something that started to change my perspective of the Arab/Muslim world. Three of the other girls and me formed a group and we were joined by 3 Moroccan guys. One of the guys, Brahim, was very cool and spoke perfect English. He was Berber and had lived in Rabat for the past 15 years. We walked through the Medina to the beach, then the market, before stopping in at a cafe. Along the way we talked about mutual stereotypes, 9/11, the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan and Israel. Although I censured much of my opinion, it was interesting to get their perspectives. By the time we got to the cafe we were getting along really well. We had mint tea and they taught us some Arabic. Arabic is difficult as there are sounds that are simply not in the English language. From the cafe we walked past the capital office and back to the meeting point where we were all sad to leave.
We then went to a homestay home where we had a talk from a full bright scholar living in Morocco. He had been on Morocco Exchange a few years before.
That night we were supposed to go to the Hamam, the public bath house. Alan and I were supposed to go together and in the end I'm glad I didn't go with him. Instead, Ashraf offered to take me and we went to the Hamam.
The Hamam was an incredible, completely foreign experience. After changing into my swimsuit, I followed Ashraf into the hottest room that was a full on sauna. I was sweating profusely. I was the only white and foreign person there. It was definitely a locals only place. We sat on the warm floor, soaking in the heat. Ashraf brought buckets of water and we put on all natural olive oil soap. I then rinsed it off after letting it sit for about 10 minutes. Next was the craziest, most ridiculous part as we went into the next room and I was told to lay down by an old Moroccan man who proceeded to tear off layers of dead skin with a sharp brush. I flipped over and he did the same thing on my chest. He then proceeded to bend me into yoga positions to stretch and loosen my neck and back. I was thinking how I was going to have to punch him if he bent my leg too far as I wasn't that flexible when he did the most ridiculous thing of grabbing my hands and legs in a "hog-tie" position and kicking my back with his foot, cracking it so deeply that when I stood up I was so warm and loose that I had a surreal, natural high. This perceived homoerotic practice of cleaning and stretching was common practice as Ashraf and other men asked for the same thing. I then washed off with shampoo and soap, twice. Before drying off and changing, I have to say I have never felt cleaner than in the public bath in Morocco; something I definitely never would have thought.
Back home we had a dinner of baked pasta with a meat and cheese covering. We ate with Ashraf and Wejla. After dinner, we watched a pirated version of lost on the giant TV and then I talked to Rebecca and Caryn, the girls from Madrid who I was rooming with.
All in all, it had been an amazing, life-changing day.
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