Casa: Take 2

Since I finally clicked in to being happy in Morocco, I have fallen more and more in love with this country. This weekend demonstrates why.

Thursday was a national holiday so we didn’t have classes. The national holiday celebrates when Moroccans peacefully took over the Western Sahara to spread the Koran, but I won’t get in to the fact that they study something that never happened. The joys of state run television.

Instead, we had an optional day trip to Asilah. Asilah is a little beach town about 2 and a half hours north of Rabat that is known for it’s hippy lifestyle, summer art festivals, and sea food. We got to Asilah around 10:45 and had a quick guided tour of the tiny medina and the various look-out places for the ocean. After that, we had lunch at this nice seafood restaurant on the beach that was recommended by the New York times travel section. Since we’re all so frustrated with the utter failures of the program and the fact that we are not getting what we paid for, we all ordered an appetizer, entrée, and a beer. I had seafood paella (the further North you get, the more Spanish influences you see in Morocco) and garlic shrimp. They were both delicious.

After lunch, we were free to wander around for another hour or so. The reason that the medina was so amazing was the sheer mass of murals painted on random walls during the summer art festivals. Beach side medinas and Kasbahs are usually fairly colorful, but this was massive murals every few feet. Some of the paintings had seen better days, but it was still an amazing sight to see. Then we went shopping for a bit and I spent a little bit more money than I should have.

Saturday morning, I had to make up class for anthropology in Casablanca. Our school didn’t figure in enough hours for us to get our credits so they’re shoving all these random extra credits on us. For my anthropology class, they paid for us to take the train to Casablanca to go to the Social Sciences library and do our research for our paper. Despite the fact that I had to leave Rabat at 8:30 in the morning, the fact that I got transportation free for that night’s debauchery just adds to the excellence.

After class, Jennifer and I went out for lunch and coffee while we waited for the others to come meet up with us. We had all planned on having a “girls night” in Casablanca. The international Harlem Globetrotters were in town and Ain Daab (the beachfront of Casa) is well-known for it’s clubbing. We somehow found a hotel that would let us each stay there for 100 dirhams (about 13 dollars) and had a bar that had 14 dirham beers (drinking is really expensive in Morocco) and we chilled there for a bit before heading out.

Our first stop was dinner at this nice, but unlicensed restaurant. The manager at the restaurant (who looked a little bit like Andy Garcia) told us that he used to manage a club out in Ain Daab and we could call him later and he would get us in for reduced cover and let us cut the line. We took his number and told him we’d call him later.
The Harlem Globetrotters were an interesting experience. The stadium in Casablanca is dirty and absolutely disgusting. We were sitting way up in nose bleed for the first half of the game and just watching. The announcers were speaking a really weird combination of Arabic, French, and English, but I couldn’t understand any of it from where I was sitting. The game was kind of funny though and I would have been thrilled to be there if I had been 5. I’m not sure how it works in the US, but the international Harlem Globetrotters play against a permanent home team called the “Washington Generals”. I’d had an awful headache all day and had stupidly chugged a liter of water on the way to the stadium and had to use the worst bathrooms that I’d seen in all of Morocco twice. On my way up the second time, one of the million and two security people offered to move me to the 200 dirham seats (twice the amount I’d paid for my ticket). Yes, he was hitting on us, but it was a free upgrade so all 7 of us somehow made us way down to the 200 dirham seats.

On the way out, the same guys tried to herd us into some random place and were obviously drunk. It was a little uncomfortable, but I’m used to it. I’m a little ashamed at how easy it is for me to manipulate Moroccan men, but I just figure that they’re going to harass me regardless and I might as well get something out of it.

Anyway, we catch a cab back to our hotel and go up to the hotel bar. After a rushed pre-game session (the bar closed at 11) and a game of never-have-I-ever, we’re all pleasantly buzzed and ready to go out. We go up to our rooms and drop off some of stuff/ get ready to go out. At this point, I still have a killer headache and am starting to get tired, but we all decide to go out anyway.

We get two petite taxis out to this club (after our new manager friend talks to the cab driver) and we take a 50 dirham cab ride out to Ain Daab to this club called Chocolate. We get there and realize that it is obviously a swanky place and there is a good sized line outside. We hand my cell phone to the bouncer and we get in past the red velvet rope easily. After arguing with all the security and having “cute faces”, we get in without paying the 150 dirham cover. We’re all a little bit shameless and kind of confuse Morocco.

The club is crowded when we get there, but nothing extraordinary. We sit down for a bit, but then I decide that I need another drink while we’re waiting for things to get started. Jennifer, Suzanne, and I go and get martinis at the bar. An old French man watches our drinks for us to make sure the bartender doesn’t make our drinks weak and we end up with cocktail glasses that are 95% Belvidere vodka. Drinking in clubs in Morocco is worlds away from drinking on Green street and I kind of miss my massive amounts of honey brown, but anyways…

I’m not going to detail my night out chronologically to you, but it was beyond amazing. After the first drink, I bought a shot a few hours later, but I mostly drank out of the bottles that guys that I met had paid for. All the people in this bar were loaded (if they got in, they were rich) and I’m not going to apologize for that.

About an hour after we get there, I realize that there’s a huge amount of very tall black guys who are partying right by us. It took me a long time to reach the realization, but it was the HARLEM GLOBETROTTERS. We went clubbing with the HARLEM GLOBETROTTERS. They were all really nice and we all danced and partied and closed down the bar with all of them and it was amazing. Before I knew it, the bar was closing down and it was 4AM. We grabbed a taxi outside and got back to our hotel exhausted, a little drunk, and still trying to deal with the night. Suzanne and I went back up to our room and woke up Vanessa (who thought we made it all up) and relived some more before passing out in our beds. What a surreal night.

From now on, I’m just going to try and block out my last trip to Casablanca and replace it with this extreme and awesome one.
The end.

I have accepted that I will never have the time to detail my whole week of travels, so I’ll just give you guys an amazing top-10 list of my week of travels.

1. Walking for 2 hours along the beach in Essouira while the tide was coming in.
2. Watching the sunset from the fourth floor terrace of our hotel and hearing the call-to-prayer echo across the city.
3. Staying with a legit- Berber family in one of the suburbs of Agadir where they dressed us up and made us dance until 2 in the morning.
4. Watching a storm roll in on the beach at Tiznit while eating the best fried calamari that I’ve ever had.
5. Lunch by the Todra Gorge and driving through Morocco as the terrain changed from mountains to desert over 3 hours
6. Riding out into the desert in the darkness only to wake up the next morning to see a huge sand dune.
7. Taking a land-rover tour of Erg Chebbi and then drinking a beer (in a land rover) while driving through this sand-road street in Rissani.
8. Watching the sunset on camels as we made our way into the camp for the second night.
9. Wine+ stargazing+ Sahara desert
10. Riding out of the desert (on a camel) in the rain, while singing.