 |
| Meknes |
I approached the ticket counter and the man asked if I'd like first or second class. Normally I would choose second class, not because of the price, but because it provides a better opportunity to mix with the locals.
"First class", I groaned. I had been traveling second class the entire time in Morocco. I needed a break. Feeling weak, I was trying to avoid the noxious locals that drained my valuable energy.
I plunked down in my plush first class assigned seat. Soon after, a young veiled Moroccan girl enters the compartment and sits across from me. The train chugs away from the station and the ticket man comes around and checks my ticket. He rattles off something in French to me. I give him a dumb look. The veiled girl asked if I understood him. I shook my head and said, "not at all". She instructed me on which stop I should get off at. Her English was impeccable. She introduced herself as Amy. She was getting off at the same stop as I was. After a short conversation, we planned to share a taxi to the medina (the main shopping area). During the taxi ride, I see she has a stack of medical books on her lap. She tells me she is a med student and is interning at a hospital in Fez. I tell her I'm a nurse and we immediately bonded. It was obvious that she was very intelligent. I let out a sigh of relief. It was nice to finally speak with someone that had some brains. It had been awhile :)
 |
| Amy in Meknes |
I accepted, of course.
When I travel to other countries, my main goal, before seeing all the touristy sites, is to mingle with the locals and try my best to understand their culture. Her invitation to lunch made me so happy I could have cried. I didn't want to give up on the Moroccans just yet. I knew there had to be some nice ones out there..... and I had I just met one.
We arrive at her house, which looked quite plain from the outside, and are greeted at the front door by the maid. I thought, 'They have a MAID? They must be rich.'
After Amy kisses cheeks with her, the maid brings her face close to mine and we do the same kiss thing on each cheek. I feel so French, I thought. I pretend like I've done this my whole life. While traveling in foreign countries, I'm constantly pretending like nothing is my first time. This street that I'm walking, I've walked it a thousand times. This odd thing the locals do, I've done it a million times. Its called confidence, my friends, and it will make you a super traveler. In my eyes, having this ability is a prerequisite to travel, especially in Morocco.
After the smooches, Amy gives me a tour of her parents extravagant home. I'm shocked. It's a 4 story palace constructed from marble and beautiful wood. I learn that her dad is an architect and is the designer of this stunning house. I lose track of the number of rooms I see. Each family member has their own kitchen, bathroom and patio. There were so many rooms, many of them were left unused. Now I see why they need a maid ! Think of all the cleaning !
We sat together in the main living area and chit chat for awhile while I admired the surroundings.
One at a time, her brother, mom, and dad come home from work and school and I am introduced to each one separately. I feel very welcomed by them and can sense they are truly good people. Her mom is a teacher and her brother is a senior in high school.
We make our way downstairs and sit down to a large feast that includes a huge platter of 2 roasted chickens, surrounded by sauce and piled high with French fries. It's a typical Moroccan cuisine. I cringe when I remember I forgot to tell her I was vegetarian. Her thoughtful dad felt bad and asked the maid to make more French fries for me, even though there was plenty of veggies, fruit and bread to keep me happy. I dipped my homemade bread in the homemade olive oil. You couldn't get better food at any restaurant.
They ate with their hands. The communal center dish of chicken was ravaged by the family members at all angles. Amy explained that lunch was the biggest meal of the day for Moroccans.
I was happy as a lark being in the company of some very hospitable hosts that made me feel like a 5th family member.
This is exactly what I was craving from Morocco. I wasn't sure how much more wickedness I could handle. I felt like it was making me a hardened traveler.
It's a cruel, cruel world.
I witnessed the everyday happenings and conversations between this warm family. Amy always made sure she interpreted the Moroccan that was spoken, since her parents spoke very little English.
After lunch, her dad chauffeured me and Amy around town in his car. He drove by the major sites around town as Amy gave commentary. Walking to the train station earlier that morning, I had no idea that later that day I would have my own personal local guide in Meknes.
I couldn't have asked for a better guide. Amy was such a sweet girl. We sat in the back of the car, like 2 good friends on an outing with our own personal driver. It was so much fun. If I lived in Morocco, she'd probably be my best friend.
As we wandered through the maze of souks filled with randy local men, Amy always made sure I was no more than a few inches from her. Being with a local Arab women seemed to ward off a lot of the crude remarks from the men. She was my protector, as well as my interpreter. When a local would speak to me in French as we passed, I'd whisper to Amy, "what did he say?" she would say, "he said blonde", or "you are beautiful".
Darn, I wish I could speak French. I could hear all these pleasant things being said to me, and probably a lot more things I DIDN'T want to hear, as well. But it sounds so much more elegant in French. I will say, the locals are much less harsh in Meknes than they are in Marrakech.
We passed a group of 3 locals eating some kind of mystery meat with their hands, one of them looked at me and said something in French with a mouth full of food. He appeared to be angry. I asked Amy for the translation, she said, "he invited you to eat with them." I said, "Really? It looked like he was swearing at me."
We both giggled.
 |
| Candy section of the souks |
 |
| Meknes is known for it's olives |
 |
| Dates~ YUM-MY! |
 |
| Traditional Moroccan shoes in the souks |
After an absolutely delightful day with Amy, it was getting close to dark, which was my cue to hightail it back to Fez. I always made sure I was safely indoors before dark. The men were bad enough during the daylight. I imagined them turning into ferocious werewolves at night. Amy's dad was insisting I stay for dinner and was already thinking of vegetarian options for me. They wanted me to spend the night and take the train back to Fez the next day. I appreciated the offer, but had to decline. Before I left my hostel, I had told the owner where I was going and that I'd be back before dark. He said he would wait for me and I didn't want him to worry.
Before I caught my train, me and Amy went to a cafe to drink coffee while her dad went to the mosque to pray. I learned a lot from this sweet Muslim doctor. Her father is fairly strict and requires her to be veiled (to wear a scarf on her head). She started wearing it at the age of 8. She must wear it for the rest of her life. Once you start, it's considered very disrespectful to stop wearing it.
She lives in her own apartment in Fez and has a boyfriend (another doctor) that her parents don't know about.
Naughty, naughty :)
I found her to have more of a western attitude than the average Muslim female.
She aspires to be a maxillofacial surgeon. High ambitions from this extremely intelligent girl. I piqued her brain about the issue of women inferiority in Morocco and described my experiences with it. She said it was very prevalent here, especially in older generations, and she had also experienced it. She told me stories of battered women that come into the emergency room after being beaten by their husband. Hearing these stories, I was silently infuriated. Why do the women allow this?! This needs to change ! I knew Amy would never allow this to happen to her. Her plea to the abused women to go to the police was refused. It's just part of the culture.
She plans to live in the US eventually. I told her she would love it and that the men would give her so much more respect.
I said goodbye to my new friend and made it back to Fez shortly after the sun set, and before I turned into a pumpkin :)
I didn't want the day to end. I was touched by the amount of kindness I had received from Amy and her family. She has no idea how much she has changed my opinion of the Moroccan people.
I'm amazed by the number of times I've been invited into the homes of locals around the world and been stuffed full of food, looking for nothing in return.
I feel like the luckiest girl alive.
This world isn't so cruel after all....
No comments:
Post a Comment