A love affair with a slightly more developed country: Morocco in a day

Traveling these days is no longer about shedding my American perspective, but rather about expanding the one I've acquired in the last four months. My reference point has shifted and traveling outside of Senegal is slowly allowing me to see that change. My reflex is no longer to make a comparison to my background in the US or to my travels in Europe, but rather to Senegal--the country where I've most recently been immersed. It also makes sense because I'm traveling in mostly-Muslim countries and ones that are, technically, still on the African continent, even though I do find myself repeating, "You're not in Africa anymore, Todo" (another story for another day).

So, Morocco, my first introduction to North Africa, and first introduction in awhile to a slightly more modern country. I hated myself for still speaking a colonial language (French) and not knowing a lick of Arabic to at least distinguish myself from the other tourists, which is something that gives me advantage in Senegal (I'm not over-charged as often and I get a lot more respect from people even if my few uttered Wolof phrases are poorly accented and poorly phrased). It was also my first time being a tourist in awhile, ahem, out comes camera, in comes feelings of cultural insensitivity (especially because we were doing it in a day). When we get to the train station, I almost giggle that train times are listed (and subsequently on time), but am silenced by the Euro-style trains and the cheap ticket prices ($3, because yes I'm back to converting to dollars). The intial giggle came from this: In Senegal, transportation comes when it comes and there ain't no set times and there ain't no posting of nothin'. It felt easy in comparison and I sighed with the ease of modernity while asking, where's the adventure in that?

Our primary destination once we got into Casa was to see the Hassan II (deux) Mosque, the second largest in the world after the one in Mecca, Saudi Arabia, where muslims make their pilgrimage. It's the main tourist destination in the city and I also wanted to see how it compared to Senegal's mosque in Touba which I visited a couple weeks ago. Hassan II is certainly far more grand and elegant than Touba, but both serve the ironical purpose of rising up out of poverty making you wonder if the money could have been better spent. But once inside, I was silenced by its peace and its enormity. And inside, what was it... the feelings that always come over me in huge religious structures (France's cathedrals for one): a sense of being belittled and a disconnect from whatever it is your supposed to feel connected.

Here's a sampling of photos, but more can be found by going here. Once there, you can click, "Lancer le diaporama" to see it as a slide show.

Playing with angles: the bottom of the minaret, the tallest structure on any mosque allowing you to see it for miles away. This one is actually 200 meters tall, the largest in the world.

View of the mosque from a distance, and Timmy in the left-hand corner.


View from inside. Most of the material used to construct the mosque was found in Morocco except the chandeliers which are from Italy and the interior white granite columns.

Rounding the bend to the Turkish baths on the bottom floor.

An oft-viewed scene, at least from my day there: Guys sitting outside coffee shops drinking tea and what... shooting the sh*t.