Speaking of Morocco: A Blog about Language, Traveling, and Learning

      This blog entry marks the end of my journey and the blog. This is my last day in Morocco, but it is a travel day. I am sitting in the Marrakech airport as I write this, waiting to board a plane to Casablanca and from there, another plane that will take me home--well, to DC, anyway. From there it's another quick flight to Charlotte the next day and *then* I'll at last be able to sleep in my own bed.      Will I return to Morocco? I might. I was especially impressed with the craftsmanship here. I just about fell in love with the ornately carved wooden tables I saw in the main woodworking souk of Essaouira, which the king of Morocco himself has visited. I have developed a fantasy of flying back to Morocco someday, once I have a house, and furnishing it with furniture, brasswork, ceramics, and other beautiful products shipped from Morocco. Naturally, this is a fairy tale. First, it would be more sensible to find a website specializing in Moroccan crafts and order directly fro

      Hello, hello! I am happy to report that after the low of the last post, things are looking up! We have arrived in the lovely coastal port town of Essaouira. The cool Atlantic sea air blowing across our faces as we descended from the tour bus was the most welcome change from the arid climate of central Morocco we could have asked for. It provided much-needed relief for all of us: stomachs are feeling better, bodies are feeling rested, and many of my travel mates are glowing after an optional hammam visit (I didn't partake, because I was embarrassed about having to undress in front of another person from my group). As for me, my French is on the mend! I had some cause for celebration the other day, which I will narrate in a moment. But first, photos: View of the town of Essaouira from La Scala du Port View of the waves of the Atlantic Ocean Beautiful view of the Atlantic from the seafood restaurant we ate dinner at, Il Mare. There was live Moroccan music and dancing!     On the

      Yes, that's right, two entries in the same day. Remember, the last one was really a type-up of a previous entry. I'm sorry to tell you after the sunny outlook of the last post, but this one is about failure. It's inevitable when trying to learn a foreign language.     But first, before we move on to such a discouraging topic, a few random treats: 1.) Some photos from Ouarzazate, the Hollywood of Morocco: More camels--albino ones, we think? Group photo--can you spot me? The arena where Gladiator, which I've never seen, was filmed. The ksar or kasbah (fortress) of Ouarzazate, which is a UNESCO World Heritage Site 2.) The answer to my linguistic puzzle from last blog entry: why is the Fez hat called a Fez, even though it is Turkish? Drumroll...and the answer is...:     Because the dye used to make the hats their trademark red color came from a pigment imported from Fés, Morocco. No surprise there--Moroccans are known for their pigments, and honestly for their craftsm

      Today I find myself in Ouarzate, a rural town in middle-of-nowhere-Morocco. It would be unremarkable, if not for the fact that many Hollywood blockbusters and classics have been filmed here, including Inception, Lawrence of Arabia, and Gladiator, just to name a few.     However, I am not writing today mainly to talk about Ouarzate. I want to type up an entry I handwrote a few days ago when I was in the middle of the Sahara Desert, where I didn't have great wifi: Day 8: Sahara Desert ...yes, you read that title correctly. The Sahara is one of those places Americans always hear about but never dream that they will visit. In fact, it's a placeholder for the faraway and the exotic, like the African city Timbuktu (which is is not that far from here!). Today, I took a swim in a pool in my Saharan oasis hotel, drank tea in a Berber tent, and rode a camel. The Berbers are the indigenous, nomadic peoples of the North Africa region. Some photos for your enjoyment:  A baby camel Vie

      Salaam! Long time no see! Apologies for the gap in entries--between travel fatigue after long days of touring and limited wifi connectivity, it's been difficult to find the time to keep you all updated on my language-fueled journey. But here I am, sitting on a couch in the second-floor hallway of our Fes hotel because that's the only place I can get wifi, brimming with tales and photos of travel galore to share before tonight's repose. Given that I have based my travels upon practicing and thinking about language, I am going to organize this catch-up entry around several language-related experiences. If you are able to make it to the end of the entry, I will reward you with a riddle.     Notable Language Experience 1: Remember how I said I had yet to speak to a Moroccan woman? That changed on Day 3 of my trip. On the way home from the Hassan II Mosque in Casablanca, I shared a cab (known as a "petit taxi" here in Morocco) with two local women. The cab driver

      My first full day in this country, and I am already speaking French! I would mark this day as a success--mostly.      From the moment I first joined the check-in line at Dulles International Airport in DC, I have been struck by the way many Moroccan women dress. The ones that capture my attention tie their long, dark hair up into a knot and wrap it in headscarves of every color, pattern, and fabric imaginable. They pair these headscarves with long, flowing, colorful dresses and djellabas, a loose-fitting hooded garment that is particular to North Africa. They are beautiful. I haven't had an opportunity to speak to one yet, though, especially as it is generally Arabic that emerges from their lips. I had read before getting here that while French remains in common use, Arabic has taken over as the dominant language of the country as its colonialist days fade further and further away. My limited experience so far aligns with what I have read.     That being said, I was pleasantl