And so it's a new year...

Happy New Year to all...



I rang in the beginning of this new era with some tough-to-chew beef, french fries, mustard and a nice cold glass of water. I substituted fireworks and countdowns for the ever-interesting spectacle of drunkards giving each other shit, banging on tables, and generally proving that people not used to drinking alcohol should do so only in moderation.

I am in Marrakech now, about 6 hours farther south than I was before (in Meknes). I arrived last night after a long, yet interesting train ride in the company of Hannah (the German girl with whom I've been traveling for a couple of days) and a bunch of people we met on the train.

I can pretty surely say that I have never before been privy to such an interesting train ride as yesterday's. Soon after getting in the train, we met a peace corps volunteer (Tia), a highly paid DJ (DJ Hassan), and a few other Moroccans, all very nice. The stars above our train car must have been well-aligned, for our car immediately became a center of conversation, laughter and learning. For the next 5 hours or so, we discussed religion, music, politics and culture. While I have until now refrained from discussing either religion or politics with Moroccans, this was the perfect forum for all types of commentary, and I learned a great deal and had a very interesting time.

My French is improving rapidly, so I was able to understand nearly all of the crash course on Islam afforded to me by DJ Hassan and the others. I was also able to speak with him at length about mixing, nightclubs and House music. Obviously this was an environment of varying themes, and at one point I even looked over to find Hannah and another Moroccan guy discussing euthanasia, polygamy and other controversial themes that even many homogenous groups of Americans would avoid for fear of excessive confrontation. In short, there was little yesterday of the stereotypical "fanatical Islam" of which so many Americans are afraid.

People here, in fact, have continually surprised me in their generosity, openness and spirit of friendship. I've received a number of invitations to family homes, been taken on a tour of Meknes by friends that were nearly in tears at my departure, and been led through dark, winding streets by crippled drunks that refused any offer of remuneration for their assistance...Many people truly want to offer their aid, and truly do what they do out of the goodness of the heart...I have been told that in part this stems from a belief that Allah may appear at any time as a stranger or foreigner, and it is therefore a good idea to be kind to travelers and to offer your charity to them. I'm not sure if this is true or not, but the effect is the same...

There are, of course, people with more poisoned hearts that at times cause the hairs on my neck to stand straight to the sky and my heart to beat rapidly...There are still, as in any country, drug addicts and people wishing to capitalize on the ignorance, innocence and fear of foreign travelers...Last night, for instance, a young guy, maybe 17 or so, offered to show us the way to our hotel. I told him we had no money to tip him, he said not to worry and showed us the way...Of course he then asked for money and when we said no, he angrily invited us to engage in sexual congress with our mothers...unpleasant, to say the least, but this kind of person is certainly not the rule in Morocco.

In part I believe that this sort of attitude and these types of actions are caused by the general touristy nature of Marrakech...This is, at first glance, a fascinating city--the Morocco of pop culture and American imagination. This is the Morocco of snake charmers, trained monkeys and stands packed with dates, olives and oranges. This is the Morocco of henna and palm readers and all the other things that you think of when you think of Morocco...Of course much of this is fabricated for foreign tourists, but interestingly enough, we are the minority here and the locals seem to far outnumber the camera carrying jet-setters. Still, it is only natural that a large number of tourists will of course create a group of poor people that will find ways to make money off of them, and be angry if this does not work...

Morocco is a land of contrasts, as I mentioned in my first few days here. These contrasts, however, are not merely visual (traditionally clothed elderly men on cell phones, veiled women sipping Coca-Cola), but rather interior as well, at least from my point of view. Never before have I experienced such ups and downs in a trip, such moments of pure exhiliration and comfort and happiness nor such moments of nervousness and anxiety and at times, disgust...Walking through the streets here, I sometimes smell something and I don't know if the smell is beautiful or absolutely horrifying. My gag reflex competes with hunger pangs and I leave the scene of the smell confused and disoriented...This is Morocco for me--a land of contrasts and confusion and wonderment.

Soon I will head into the desert, where I hope to take a camel trek and see the beautiful sand dunes of the Sahara at Erg Chebbi...I've been told that this place is like another world--totally surreal and like nothing else. It seems like a good idea to start the New Year with a bit of a visual and emotional jumpstart and...

Be well. More to come.