Gorges

I've been looking back at my last post, and I'm amazed that such a strange and wonderful experience could translate so badly in written words. I apologize for the somewhat insipid prose. If I were to give an excuse, it would merely contain an explanation of the environment in which I was working, so very non conducive to writing.

Personal space and privacy are shifting entities, meaning very different things in different places, as I've found here. A wonderful trait that I've found in Moroccans, as I've said before, is extreme friendliness and generosity. As in all cultures, however, one's best trait is often one's worst trait, and suffering beneath the extreme friendliness of a local while attempting to concentrate on writing can be challenging...And so in my last post, every other sentence, unseen to the reader, was interrupted by friendly chit-chat between me and those around me. I offer this explanation as an excuse for the disjointed nature of the this last update.

Having finally dealt with the vehicle, the rest of my time in Ourzazate went well. The Germans and I shared a final meal in our rented apartment with a friend Hisham (who we sort of met during the entire vehicular adventure), who promptly fell in love with one of the girls. The dinner was delicious, as Hisham took the helm of the kitchen, unhappy with my Western cooking methods, and whipped us up a delicious tagine (honestly one of the only things eaten here).

Our new friend's infatuation with my German friend seemed rather strange to me, when I heard of the hints that he had made to her regarding marriage, I was rather suprised...I soon found out, however, that this is not strange here. I've also met people that openly tell me how their mother arranged their marriage, how a wedding can be planned from one day to the next...I met a guy last night who hopes to marry (Inshallah) this summer, although he has yet to meet the lucky girl. As Hannah said to me, I respect local traditions and social interactions, but this is just plain weird to me, and hard for me to comprehend.

Coming from the US, where both parents and children are itching for geographical separation around the 18th birthday of the offspring, it is tough for me to wrap my head around the existence of homes where up to 40 family members live together (I met a man yesterday who lives in a home with 39 people--brothers, wives, mothers, children, cousins, etc.) Marriage is patriarchal here, and the wife is expected to leave her home to live with the husband's family immediately upon marriage. From that point on, she is the "responsibility" of the husband's family. These huge families often live in the Kasbah, old neighborhoods connected by familiar relations, filled with huge, sprawling, mazelike homes of many rooms.

I had the chance to visit a house in the Kasbah yesterday in which an entire family is dedicated to the creation of beautiful and highly symbolic carpets...I bought myself a "marriage carpet" made by Fatima, one of the artisans working in this family cooperative...Unfortunately, I like it too much to sell it, and my plans to create a carpet-selling business in the States have yet to become even close to a reality.

Talking with people has been interesting in these smaller towns of the South...There are huge differences between the South and North, difficult to detect by the foreigner, but incredibly obvious to Moroccans...Most of the people that I've met down here are Berbers, and distinguish between themselves and Arabs, a difference that Western eyes would find difficult to notice. Nonetheless, the language is different, clothing is different, social interactions are different...I was told yesterday for instance, that in Berber tradition, there is unity and equality between the man and woman. I've been told (both here and at home, as popular prejudices inform us) that this is not the case in the Arab society...

I am currently in Tinerhir, in the region of the Tudra gorge, which is said to be the largest gorge in all of Morocco. We are near to the largest salt mine in all of Africa as well as a very large Silver mine. Both of these materials supply the region with much of its income. From here I plan to trace a large oval that will bring me to Merzouga (home of the evasive Saharan expeditions of which I've spoken so much) and then through the Draa Valley back to Ourzazate for the January 11th fete.

People here are already earnestly preparing for next Wednesday, and I've seen markets dedicated to the sale of live sheep, which can cost a person here about 2,000 dirham; which is approximately 200 euros (240 dollars or so), a large sum by local standards. Hisham, my friend in Ourzazate, has invited me to pass the day with his family, and he tells me (and other verify) that he is the resident expert in the butchering of the lambs...This promises to be a bloody affair, and I plan to warn all readers of the potentially upsetting nature of the photographs I plan to take...

I hope that all are well, more to come soon....