Season's Greetings from Morocco

It's been over a week since I arrived in Morocco.  Between French classes, visits to the dentist and catching up with grandkids and friends, I'm just now finding time to write an update.

The day after I arrived we celebrated Leila's birthday with chocolate cake and a to-die-for chocolate cake.

There's been lots of rain here this month so everything is green and lush.  When I walk home from French class, I go through the botanical garden.  Very quiet and peaceful.  Rests my tired brain from trying to remember French words and syntax.

There are also fig trees, 

and date palms.

Wish they grew in my garden.

Joe has an orange tree in his back yard and 'tis the season.  For juice 

and Christmas secrets and cookie baking!

I hope you are enjoying your Christmas preparations.

A Bit of Sightseeing

Saturday while one girl was a pottery class, Pappa, pottery girl’s sister and I did a bit of sightseeing.  We visited the mausoleum of King Hassan II, father of the present king, Mohammed VI.  

Very impressive.

                                                                    The tomb

A guard on the balcony

Lovely mosaics

  

A guard at the door

                                                                                              K’s favorite, the horsey guard.

And the girl & me.

Back in Morocco

So I left the States on Monday.  The flight was uneventful.  Well, except for the delay leaving Paris.  Apparently there was excess luggage--the kind that’s loaded on without someone to claim it at the other end.  Frankly, that’s the kind of delay I appreciate.  

I arrived here yesterday.  Because both Leila and Joe were working, Joe had a driver come to the airport to pick me up.  The kind who holds up a sign just for you.  Not just family but my own driver.  I felt very special, I can tell you.

Two very grown-up girls greeted me, excited to see me--and the presents.  We had lots of fun doing workbooks and playing with girly Legos.

Off to school

And there’s a new member of the family.  Meet Zorro.  Very aptly named, I think.  Handsome and dressed in black.

                      

Helps me not miss my doggies.

And now Rachma has just brought me Morrocain tea--lots of mint and sugar and served in a juice-sized glass.    

The sun is shining.  It’s warm.  And in 5 days I leave for my Saharan adventure.  Life is excellent!!

Halloween à la Maroc

One of the fun things about travelling to other countries is seeing how they celebrate holidays.  Halloween is the States has some universals.  Kids dress up, perhaps go to parties, but definitely go Trick or Treating. 

The Flamenco Dancer and the Asian Girl

Much the same here.  On Saturday, we were invited to a Halloween party at the house of one of Joe and Leila's friends.  Eight or ten kids as superheroes, chevaliers and even a Tigger.

 Later, we walked to the American Club.  They had games and very American food at the Club:  Roasted turkey legs, pumpkin soup, caramel-coated apples and cupcakes.  There were games for the kids and the parents sat and chatted in English, French and Arabic.  Even the American Ambassador and his wife attended.

At 5:00 clock, it was time for Trick or Treat.  The younger kids had first dibbs.  We left the American Club, walked down the street, turned the corner and walked past the American Embassy

and into the parking lot.  There, a number of families had decorated the trunks of their cars and kids walked from one vehicle to the next, saying Trick or Treat and gathering candy.  Some of the cars were elaborately decorated.

It was a hoot--one of the most enjoyable Halloween's ever.

Happy Halloween all!

Judi

My Flight to Rabat

Friday, I boarded a plane (and just so you know, Delta is NOT Air France even if they're 'associated') to fly to Morocco.  It's always been an easy trip.  Leave Boston in the early evening, settle down and sleep 'til I arrive in Paris, hang around for a couple of hours and then fly into Rabat.

Not this time.

I figured things were going well because I was in about the only row of 3 seats with only 2 of us seated.  Until we took off.  And the kid in the row behind started crying.  Not just the whimper or whine of ear troubles taking off.  Nope.  This was full-throated, frantic wailing.  That went on.  And on.  She'd stop for about 5 minutes, then start up again.  For anywhere from 15 minutes to half an hour.  Another 5 minute break and back to wailing.  Mind you, this is a 7-8 hour flight.  All plans of arriving rested flew out the window -- so to speak.

Eventually, the kid wore herself out -- or I was even more exhausted and fell asleep in spite of the racket.  In any event, I got a couple of hours sleep, max.

During the layover in Paris, I got more and more nervous as people assembled for the flight to Morocco.  Kids.  Lots of kids.  Lots of little kids.  I groaned inwardly -- and maybe not so silently.  This flight is only a couple of hours long, but I had figured I could at  least get in a nap.

As it turned out, it wasn't bad.  There were a few cries here and there, but the usual fussiness, not the frenzied crying on the previous flight.  So, I was able to get a couple of hours sleep.

When my son and lovely granddaughters ( 4 and 6) greeted me after I got through customs, I gave them big hugs.  My son asked how the trip went.  So I came to a dead stop, knelt down, beckoned the girls over and said:  "Poor Gramma had a baby in the row behind me crying all night.  Then there were kids crying on the flight here.  So, please do me a favor.  Don't cry today or I'll run out of the house and run screaming down the street, tearing my hair out." 

They are the best girls.  Not one whimper or whine out of them for the whole time since I've been here.

More about Morocco later.

Judi

Travels to Morocco

Random thoughts from the trip to Morocco.

I got to Logan in plenty of time, especially since the departure was delayed a couple of hours. There was plenty of time to enjoy a latte and scone for breakfast at Starbucks. Wandering around the gate area after eating, a guy started chatting with me. He was from Lebanon and invited me to join him for something to eat. Interesting pick-up line for an airport. Guess it's the same wherever.

Normally, I can sleep on international flights. However, my muse was busy working. About half way to Paris, I woke up, wide awake, and wrote for the rest of the flight. I was pleased my muse had followed me, but she could have chosen a more convenient time to put me to work.

Arriving at the Charles de Gaulle airport at my breakfast time (their noon) I needed something to eat. So . . . just because they call it French fast food doesn't make it haute cuisine. I've seen better grub at Mickey Ds or 7-11. The international gate reminded me of pictures I've seen of Gare du Nord. The rounded roof and long rectangular building. The difference being planes instead of trains. Constructed with glass and metal, the sounds reverberated enough so that it was difficult to understand the announcements, particularly those in French.

And I nearly froze while waiting for my next flight. Good thing I brought my winter jacket and could put it on over my leather jacket with my jeans. And had a turtleneck on under by fleece shirt. It took half of the trip to Rabat before I was warm again.

But hugging my two beautiful granddaughters made it all worth while.

Au revoir til next time.