They say time flies when you're having fun. This leads me to the simple conclusion --as if the mere fact that I'm doing hours of homework during my summer "break" wasn't enough-- that studying Arabic does not equal having fun. This past week has crawled by more slowly than the turtles that roam the school grounds.
Fear not, dear readers, I'm not about to hop on a plane back home. You also won't be subjected to a post entirely about me doing homework (though that would be a more accurate description of my week). Instead, you get to hear about my two "trips" over the past week: one to the small city of Asilah, about 45 minutes away from Tangier, and the other to the Grottes d'Hercules.
First up, the good trip: Asilah. We left the compound at about 9 on a rainy Saturday morning. None of us were very happy about losing a precious opportunity to sleep in, and the wet weather did little to raise our spirits. After finding our way downtown to the main station, we boarded the train with first class tickets in hand. (Before you begin to wonder about the use of your tax dollars, keep in mind that a first class ticket for almost an hour long train ride is less than 3 dollars). The seats were certainly comfortable, but it wasn't anything too fancy. The best part of the journey was that some of our professors and their families accompanied us, meaning that I shared my compartment with an old Moroccan woman and her granddaughter. We had a great time chatting in a mix of Darija, Standard Arabic, and French while the little girl ran from compartment to compartment, overwhelmed with the excitement of being on a train.
We arrived at the Gare d'Assilah to discover, much to our chagrin, that we would have to walk another 25-30 minutes in order to reach the old town that we were going to tour. Luckily, the rain held off for most of the trek, but as if on cue, it started back up again when we reached the kasbah.
Asilah is particularly well known as a city of the arts, due to an annual festival set to begin this weekend. We were privy to the preparations for this festival as painters were working hard making beautiful murals on the white walls of the old buildings. They ranged from elaborate drawings of people, buildings and animals to incredible calligraphy. Most of the town is painted with blue and white, making for a magnificent view from the coast.
After a nice lunch, we decided to catch one of the bi-hourly trains back to Tangier. Leaving the Kasbah at around 2:45, we figured there would be plenty of time to make the 3:30 train. We were right. We just forgot to include Inshallah time in the calculation. (In sha' allah translates roughly to "God willing" but is used for anything and everything here. It's essentially part of the future tense.) Call me spoiled by Swiss efficiency, but when a train rolls in an hour after its scheduled arrival, the word "late" barely suffices.
Anyhow, we finally made it back to Tangier and the Moroccans that were with us decided to head to a nearby place to get some ice cream. At McDonald's. This is one thing that every place I have studied has in common. Everyone goes to McDonald's for ice cream. That being said, there are two different kinds of ice cream fixes. If you're looking for good ice cream, there are certainly better places, but if you're just tired and want something cold and sweet, Micky D's always seems to do the trick. Plus, selection is better over here. You just can't beat a Toblerone McFlurry.
After shamefully propping up a number of American stereotypes, I was itching to do something really Moroccan to assuage my guilt. Enter Tangier Tuesday, the weekly 'language socialization' program meant to practice our colloquial Arabic while exposing us to the sights, sounds, and smells of Tangier. In reality, we follow our speaking partners around through a series of constructed awkward situations, hoping that it will all be over quickly. We started out by taking a taxi out to the Grottes d'Hercules, a really cool cave deep in a cliff looking out onto the Strait of Gibraltar.
We got there and opened our envelope of tasks to discover that our assignment involved going into this strange part of the "grotto" that reminded me of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. What was once a cool cave had been reworked as an overcommercialized tourist hole complete with monkeys living in conditions that would anger any PETA activist. While we didn't have to outrun massive boulders, we did have to give yogurt to the monkeys.
This was extremely difficult given that our particular monkey was in a cage and couldn't take the yogurt container inside his cage. Instead, he held it open against his cage and tried to get as much out as possible before dropping it and spilling the majority of the yogurt on the ground outside his cage. As if this wasn't sad enough to watch, my particular speaking partner decided that the best way to give the monkey the yogurt was by dumping into his cage from above. Before I could say anything, he had poured an entire package of yogurt directly onto the monkey's face. I'm certainly no animal rights activist, but in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to let it run free.
For the second assignment of the day, we were supposed to find the tomb of Ibn Battuta, the famous explorer who set off from Tangier centuries ago. Unfortunately, NO ONE knew where it was. The speaking partners, breaking the rules of the activity, all worked together trying to find it, and after hours of searching, we discovered a tiny little shrine/tomb on a tiny back road. Was it really the tomb of Ibn Battuta? Questionable. Nonetheless, we were happy to bring our own explorations to an end.
Monday will mark the halfway point of my trip. I'm hoping the second half goes as quickly as the first. I'm sure it will be exciting, but I'm also looking forward to heading back to Fayetteville for a great senior year.
Fear not, dear readers, I'm not about to hop on a plane back home. You also won't be subjected to a post entirely about me doing homework (though that would be a more accurate description of my week). Instead, you get to hear about my two "trips" over the past week: one to the small city of Asilah, about 45 minutes away from Tangier, and the other to the Grottes d'Hercules.
First up, the good trip: Asilah. We left the compound at about 9 on a rainy Saturday morning. None of us were very happy about losing a precious opportunity to sleep in, and the wet weather did little to raise our spirits. After finding our way downtown to the main station, we boarded the train with first class tickets in hand. (Before you begin to wonder about the use of your tax dollars, keep in mind that a first class ticket for almost an hour long train ride is less than 3 dollars). The seats were certainly comfortable, but it wasn't anything too fancy. The best part of the journey was that some of our professors and their families accompanied us, meaning that I shared my compartment with an old Moroccan woman and her granddaughter. We had a great time chatting in a mix of Darija, Standard Arabic, and French while the little girl ran from compartment to compartment, overwhelmed with the excitement of being on a train.
We arrived at the Gare d'Assilah to discover, much to our chagrin, that we would have to walk another 25-30 minutes in order to reach the old town that we were going to tour. Luckily, the rain held off for most of the trek, but as if on cue, it started back up again when we reached the kasbah.
 |
| Outside a calligrapher's shop |
Asilah is particularly well known as a city of the arts, due to an annual festival set to begin this weekend. We were privy to the preparations for this festival as painters were working hard making beautiful murals on the white walls of the old buildings. They ranged from elaborate drawings of people, buildings and animals to incredible calligraphy. Most of the town is painted with blue and white, making for a magnificent view from the coast.
 |
| The Asilah coastline, with an old cemetery in the foreground |
After a nice lunch, we decided to catch one of the bi-hourly trains back to Tangier. Leaving the Kasbah at around 2:45, we figured there would be plenty of time to make the 3:30 train. We were right. We just forgot to include Inshallah time in the calculation. (In sha' allah translates roughly to "God willing" but is used for anything and everything here. It's essentially part of the future tense.) Call me spoiled by Swiss efficiency, but when a train rolls in an hour after its scheduled arrival, the word "late" barely suffices.
Anyhow, we finally made it back to Tangier and the Moroccans that were with us decided to head to a nearby place to get some ice cream. At McDonald's. This is one thing that every place I have studied has in common. Everyone goes to McDonald's for ice cream. That being said, there are two different kinds of ice cream fixes. If you're looking for good ice cream, there are certainly better places, but if you're just tired and want something cold and sweet, Micky D's always seems to do the trick. Plus, selection is better over here. You just can't beat a Toblerone McFlurry.
After shamefully propping up a number of American stereotypes, I was itching to do something really Moroccan to assuage my guilt. Enter Tangier Tuesday, the weekly 'language socialization' program meant to practice our colloquial Arabic while exposing us to the sights, sounds, and smells of Tangier. In reality, we follow our speaking partners around through a series of constructed awkward situations, hoping that it will all be over quickly. We started out by taking a taxi out to the Grottes d'Hercules, a really cool cave deep in a cliff looking out onto the Strait of Gibraltar.
We got there and opened our envelope of tasks to discover that our assignment involved going into this strange part of the "grotto" that reminded me of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. What was once a cool cave had been reworked as an overcommercialized tourist hole complete with monkeys living in conditions that would anger any PETA activist. While we didn't have to outrun massive boulders, we did have to give yogurt to the monkeys.
 |
| Our group with the poor monkey |
This was extremely difficult given that our particular monkey was in a cage and couldn't take the yogurt container inside his cage. Instead, he held it open against his cage and tried to get as much out as possible before dropping it and spilling the majority of the yogurt on the ground outside his cage. As if this wasn't sad enough to watch, my particular speaking partner decided that the best way to give the monkey the yogurt was by dumping into his cage from above. Before I could say anything, he had poured an entire package of yogurt directly onto the monkey's face. I'm certainly no animal rights activist, but in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to let it run free.
For the second assignment of the day, we were supposed to find the tomb of Ibn Battuta, the famous explorer who set off from Tangier centuries ago. Unfortunately, NO ONE knew where it was. The speaking partners, breaking the rules of the activity, all worked together trying to find it, and after hours of searching, we discovered a tiny little shrine/tomb on a tiny back road. Was it really the tomb of Ibn Battuta? Questionable. Nonetheless, we were happy to bring our own explorations to an end.
Monday will mark the halfway point of my trip. I'm hoping the second half goes as quickly as the first. I'm sure it will be exciting, but I'm also looking forward to heading back to Fayetteville for a great senior year.
Andrew, I'm sure a Toblerone McFlurry can be beaten by a Kinder Bueno McFlurry :P
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