Madrid, One Night

I am now on my way back home and I have an overnight lay-over in Madrid. I have driven through Madrid before, but I am not really familiar with all that Madrid has to offer. I will be returning in March 2011 on a student tour of Europe, so I don't really feel the need to hit the major tourist sites or museums in the short time I am here.

Come to think of it, I was already in Madrid earlier this year with Caleb, Audrey, and Kris! ---- Madrid, New Mexico! (Ha!)

I am staying in a nice neighborhood not far from the Madrid airport. Since I don't feel like pushing myself too much, I decided that the best way to appreciate this short time in Spain would be to have an authentic gastronomic experience. I asked the front desk at my hotel (the girls working the desk are from France --- what luck!) and they recommended a restaurant around the corner. Unfortunately, that restaurant is closed on Mondays, which I found out once I got there. Determined to have a good dining experience, I wandered the small side streets and found many quaint restaurants. Like in France, they post their menus outside, so I was able to easily determine the quality of the restaurant. After about half an hour of wandering, I came upon a restaurant called "Okela" on the main avenue (Avd. de Logroño) which has an awning over its veranda that reads "Cocina Tradicional del Norte" --- with my French, Italian, and Latin skills, I knew that meant "Traditional Cuisine of the North". The menu was pricy, but I could forgo the desert and stay within my budget. So, I went in.

It was about ten minutes 'til 8pm and I was their first customer of the evening. Apparently, that is still early for Spaniards --- it was early for me, too, since I eat late like most Europeans. Having the waiter to myself was a blessing because he only spoke Spanish and I speak anything but Spanish! Actually, he kept complimenting me on my Spanish (which I know the Spanish teachers at my school would really find funny) but I was really speaking Italian with a few bastardized Spanish terms I like to think I know how to use. (Pidgin Spanish?)

The experience at this restaurant was simply delightful. I loved the food, the ambiance, the service, and the ease with which it all fell into place.

Here is the view of the restaurant as I sat down to order:

I decided to keep my order simple: salad as an appetizer followed by steak and potatoes with a locally brewed beer. 

While I waited for my order, they gave me warm sausages prepared in a style particular to Northern Spain with homemade bread that was dusted with flour, a crisp crust and an air-filled, fluffy inside. Here's the picture:

The salad came with two parts: A warm, grilled salad with green beens, zucchini, cauliflower, carrots, asparagus, and olive oil AND a cold salad with field greens, cherry tomatoes, olive oil, balsamic, and rock salt. Here's the picture:

 

The cut of steak I ordered was top of the sirloin. I asked that it be medium well-done (that's the American in me, I suppose). It was accompanied with boiled potatoes coated in butter. The sirloin was sprinkled with the most interesting salt crystals. As I ate the meat, I really enjoyed its savory flavor. I was reminded of a Mexican friend who lived in France when I lived there. He once told me that a great steak doesn't need a steak sauce, rather, the grill of the steak, the seared fat from the steak, and a bit of salt should suffice, provided the meat was well cured and a good cut. His comment from over 20 years ago came back to me as I ate. It perfectly described my meal tonight: Good cut of meat, well cured, seared fat strips to enhance the flavor, and delicious salt crystals. I savored every bite:

The waiter was such a professional --- as one expects in Europe and longs for elsewhere! He took my picture:

As I left, I got his picture, too. If you are ever in Madrid, go to the Barajas stop on line 8 of the Metro and walk about 400 yards to Okela. Say hi to David for me:

Okela, Avd, de Logroño, 126. 28042 Madrid eltxoko@eltxoko.es 

Christians in Morocco

Today my son and I went to mass at the Catholic Church in Kénitra. This church is attached to the École Don Bosco which is run by priests of the Silesian Order. Saint John Bosco, known also as Don Bosco, was a dedicated educator whose example truly inspires me. The school here in Kénitra helps impoverished youth by offering them classes, support, and a safe place to learn and have fun. They organize all kinds of activities outside of regular school classes to help children and families here in Kénitra. They also have a technical school where they teach trades, particularly electronics, to young boys who would otherwise live on the streets and lead lives of crime and abuse.

The mass was well attended by Europeans who live and work here, who are here on vacation, and Africans from countries like Gabon and Côte d'Ivoire who come here to study or work. The priest is from Poland, the nuns who teach at the school are from France, and the mass was in French.

Here is a picture of me with the priest, whose name now escapes me. He was very nice, but hard to understand in French. He had just arrived from Poland the night before, after a 2 week vacation there, so the heat was still an adjustment for him. I loved that he fanned himself with the mass program while giving his homily!

Here is a picture of the chapel where we had mass. The tabernacle is on the left with a statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary. The altar is in the middle. The picture hanging on the right is of the school's patron saint, Don Bosco.

Here is a picture up close of the very beautiful altar, with Latin engraved on the base and a Berber needlepoint cloth covering it:

I have known these two nuns for over 20 years. We were happy to meet up again at mass. On the far left is Sister Saint Charles and in the middle is Sister Marie-Thérèse.

Freedom to practice one's religion is guaranteed by law in Morocco. During my stay here I have learned much about the lives of Muslim and Jewish people in Morocco. There is also a long tradition of Christians here. Christianity was practiced in Morocco during the Roman era. Many Berber tribes were Christian before they converted to Islam. In fact, St. Augustine was a Berber from North Africa. With the Spanish and French colonial era, many Christians came to Morocco from Europe to serve the colonial powers.

Today, many Christians come to study in Morocco from places like the Côte d'Ivoire, Gabon, and the Congo. There are also many European Christians who work and live in Morocco. Today, the Christians in Morocco are primarily Catholic and they are either European or Sub-Saharan African. There is a large Catholic Diocese based in Rabat. Some Protestant Christians live here in Morocco and are free to worship, but any attempts to convert Moroccan people to Christianity are against the law.

Catholic missionaries have long worked in Morocco, because they do not attempt to convert Muslims or Jewish people to Christianity. The Catholic Catechism specifically states that Catholics do not attempt to convert people of Jewish or Islamic faith. Catholic missionaries come to Morocco and other lands where Abrahamic religions are dominant so they can do the good works of Christ.

There has been some controversy here in Morocco lately because 20 Christians were expulsed earlier this year for proselytism. Here is an article about those events.

Today, though, was a happy day of worship and thanksgiving. I have so much to be grateful for related to this trip. All the things I have experienced, learned, and delighted in here will make their way into the lessons I will create in cooperation with my colleague for our students. Like a pebble in a pond, the ripple effects of this experience will span out through my life and the lives of those I teach for many years to come.

Tomorrow, I will travel back home. I will blog again to reflect on my whole experience. For now, I have many miles to go before I sleep...in my own bed!

A Berber Village

We left Mirleft and traveled to the interior of Morocco about 30 km. Our destination was a small Amazigh (Berber) village where we were invited guests and we would spend our last night in the south of Morocco. The name of this village is Ahlou. Here are some pictures of the views from the village that I took in the evening as we arrived:

Like many villages in Morocco, there has been a flight of people from the villages toward the city to look for work, so rural ways are changing and the character of these small villages has been drastically affected. The women are more isolated, because it is often the men who leave to work in the cities. Communities used to offer each other support and share in activities such as harvests, holiday celebrations, and dealing with community needs in times of crisis. This is still the way of life here, but now these communities have dwindling numbers and the sense of isolation felt by those left behind is a growing concern.

The home we visited is part of a thriving and working farm. Haj Brahim is the father of the family and he runs the farm. He and his wife have six sons and one daughter. The two oldest sons (in their 20's) have left to work in Agadir. The third son, Rachid, has been traveling with us for the past five days and he is a Chemistry student at the University of Agadir, so he is home when classes are not in session. Here is a picture of Rachid in his village:

Right behind Rachid is a "wall" of thorns --- Berber barbed wire! You can also see fog in the mountains. It was a cool and misty morning when I took this picture...Notice the argan trees in the distance behind Rachid. They grow vegetables for their own needs, and they have fruit and olive trees, but their real "business" is making argan oil. Nothing is wasted with the argan tree: The fruit and of the argan tree is used to feed the livestock. The shells of the seeds inside the fruit are used for fires for warmth and cooking, the nut inside the shell is used for making argan oil. The tree is used for carpentry and fuel. The leaves and fruit also have medicinal value. These trees can only be found in the Sous Valley region of Morocco and in the Tindouf region of Algeria, not that far from here.

The three remaining brothers and the one sister are all living at home with their mother and father. They built the house they live in. It was built right next to the family's ancestral home, which is now used as a barn for their farm animals: a donkey, a cow, chickens, goats, and sheep. Haj Brahim was born in his ancestral home.

In this picture you can see their ancestral home on the left and their newer home on the right:

The lane our group is walking down is also used by herds of goats and sheep as they are led to and from the hills where they graze. It was very interesting to arrive in the early evening on Tuesday and hear the herds in the street. I was able to watch them from an upper window overlooking the lane. It was too dark to get pictures, but here is a view from that same window:

[Note: Please forgive me for not including more pictures of the people in this village. Many of them do not want their pictures taken and they especially do not want their pictures on the internet. At other times when I might have been able to get pictures of them, I did not want to be rude or stand out as a tourist.]

Lgzira: The Most Amazing Beach

On our final day along the southern Atlantic coast of Morocco, we went to see the amazing geography on display a Lgzira Beach, on the coastal road south of Mirleft and north of Sidi Ifni. In French, this beach is known as "Les Falaises Rouges" which translates in English to "The Red Cliffs" but "cliff" really isn't the right word...cliff, shelf, arch, wonder...Perhaps you can help me give this area a better name after you've looked at these incredible pictures. For the record: This is the most beautiful place I have ever visited (and I have been to some beautiful places).

We began at an outlook point over the beach. This picture is taken from the top of the northern end of the site, looking southward.  What the arch in the distance hides is another arch just on the other side:

Here I am with the beach and the arch in the distance below:

Then, we drove down to the parking area above the beach. Although I have no pictures of the amenities at this beach, there are a couple of cafés, a restaurant, a small hotel, and a youth hostel. They are painted an earthy pink and they are wedged into the side of the slopes leading down to the beach. There is also a bedouin-style tent set up further down the beach which they call the "Bedouin Café Tent" where people can get a drink and a place in the shade.

My pictures on the beach begin on the northern end. This part of the beach is mostly used by fishermen using unusually long fishing poles and families with small tents. On this end, the beach has smooth stones scattered throughout the sand. Enjoy these spectacular images:

To help give you a perspective of the dimension of these cliff walls, here is a picture of Khalil standing on a ledge of the same cliff wall:

When I pivoted and put the northern end of the beach behind me, this was the view looking south. The restaurant, cafés, hotel and youth hostel are on the left, just outside of the picture. Notice there are people on the beach, they're just really far away. Seeing them should help give you a perspective of the immensity of the slope, cliffs, arch, and beach:

My children, Amina and Khalil, decided to take a camel ride down the beach to the first arch.

[I will insert video here as soon as I get to a location with higher internet speeds.]

I walked the length of the beach to the first arch. The water was clean and clear, and a bit cold. The sand was clean, fine, and smooth. As I approached this first natural arch, I noticed another tiny archway on the far right end, so I got this picture of it:

Even this next picture cannot capture the immensity of this inward sloping cliff. It was truly a wonder to behold. I couldn't get all of it in this picture, but up close, it appears much bigger than the Arc de Triomphe in Paris. I stood near it and underneath it for a long time, just meditating on its beauty, God's skill in crafting such an awe-inspiring wonder, and feeling immense gratitude for my life, the people in it, the chance I have had to come here and really get to know this land and these people. Enjoy the view:

As I passed to the other side of the arch, Amina and Khalil were there already. Their camel and his driver were resting in the shade under the arch and I was able to capture this picture. I love this picture, in part because it captures the serenity and peace of the moment:

Now on the other side of the arch, I tried to get a picture of the little arch, but from this side, with the curve of the beach, it is hidden from view. This picture is of the section of rock just to the left of the arch, as I am facing north. It is still amazing and beautiful:

And now comes the second wonder; that which was hidden from our view even as we approached the first arch --- the second arch which stood just about 100 yards beyond the first arch:

As I walked underneath and passed beyond the second arch, I was overwhelmed with emotion. I felt spiritually uplifted, powerfully connected to the earth, and I wished I could share this site with everyone I love. So, I asked Saïd to take my picture. I hope you have loved reading this blog posting as much as I have enjoyed sharing it with you. Thank you, Fund for Teachers, for making this experience possible.

Evening with the Moroccan Human Rights Association

Saïd is a well-known musician in Morocco who sings original music calling for respect for human rights, denouncing political and police abuses, and calling on our universal values of dignity, respect, freedom, and individual expression. For many years, he had to live in exile in France and the United States because Morocco did not welcome his music. But times have changed and he has been able to return to live in Morocco where he is now free to perform his music openly. I have stayed with Saïd, who is my good friend and former husband, for much of my visit here.

When the Moroccan Human Rights Association heard that we were staying in Mirleft, they invited him to come perform his music at a summer youth camp for young people 18 to 25 years old in the nearby town of Aglou. The camp is dedicated to dialogue about human rights, so this was the perfect venue. I was excited to learn that the camp was being held at a high school just 20 km from where we were staying. I have been trying to visit a Moroccan secondary school and meet with Moroccan teachers, but since the summer vacation is in full swing throughout Morocco, this goal of mine has been hard to fulfill.

So, we arrived at the high school around 8:30 pm, as the sun was preparing to set. Here are some pictures of this rural high school and my comments on the pictures ---

The entrance to the high school. The sign reads: Sidi Agag Junior High/High School, Aglou

The inner courtyard of the school.

Artwork on the walls in the inner courtyard: 

This is Koranic calligraphy painted by the school's art teacher.

On the right: Can we consider as equal an knowledgeable person and an ignorant person? 

(So this verse calls people to seek knowledge)

On the left: Read! (The first word of the Koran and an insistence by God that humanity read and seek knowledge.)

Artwork on the walls in the inner courtyard: 

This is a painting of a fibula in the style of the High Atlas region.

A fibula is a brooch used to hold a cloak in place, 

this decorative jewelry has been around Morocco since before Roman times 

and is one of the Amazigh (Berber) symbols.

The students at this high school are predominantly of Amazigh heritage.

The teacher's workroom at the high school. The cots are for the camp counselors' use and are not normally there during the school year. The mailboxes look just like home...

The high school's head cook, Oum Aïcha, is earning extra money this summer cooking for the summer camp. We laughed together and her food was great. I told her in our schools, the head cook always knows how to get things done and teachers turn to the head cook for troubleshooting. She informed me that the same is true at he school. God bless our paraprofessionals!

We had come to hear Saïd perform his music, but cultural ritual comes first, so we sat to drink some green tea. The man serving the tea is the director of the nearby elementary school.

I was thrilled to meet Houcine, an English teacher at a rural junior high school here in Morocco. 

His English was excellent and he acted as my host throughout the evening. 

Houcine is also a human rights activist and 

he is one of the coordinators of this human rights summer camp. 

(More about Houcine later)

This is one of the banners for the youth camp. It reads:

Moroccan Human Rights Association

The future of our youth depends on our respect of human rights.

8th Annual Human Rights Camp

Aglou, Tiznit Region, July 19 to 30, 2010

Left to right: Me, Houcine, and Saïd

After the tea, we also had dinner. The atmosphere was very relaxed and friendly. Houcine and I were able to talk about being language teachers. We learned that we each teach in schools that have partnerships with schools in the Picardy region of France. Since Houcine's students are new English learners, we've decided to partner our students as pen-pals. Also, when my students and I are learning about Morocco, Houcine has agreed to do some video conferencing with me and my students to discuss Moroccan history, culture, and current events. Since he speaks both English and French, his participation will be valuable for all the levels of French I teach. Personally, this connection we have made is one of the most exciting things I have gained form this trip to Morocco. I look forward to many years of collaboration with Houcine. In fact, we have plans for him to come to the US, observe my classes, meet other language teachers, and perhaps attend a language teaching conference.

Saïd sang for about three hours. It was wonderful to see the reaction of the young people to his music, their joy in singing along with him, and their chanting and cheering when he was done. Everyone wanted their picture with him! Here is a picture of us with the camp coordinators just before we left around 2:30 am!

Mirleft's Kasbah Beach

Mirleft has been my home base for the last few days, but today was my first day to visit the beach just a 5 minute walk from the house where we are staying. It is an amazingly beautiful, clean, and well-organized beach. I say well-organized because chaos usually reigns on Moroccan beaches, but this beach has blue shade umbrellas planted in neat rows, well-spaced apart, clean toilets, and other facilities nearby. Look at the view! ---

To get to the beach, you have to walk down about 150 steps. The wall supporting these steps was decorated by a group of young people promoting international understanding. I found this great blog about their painting of this wall. The words on the wall, from left to right, are written in Amazigh (Berber), French, Arabic, and English. The French reads "La pollution ne connaît pas les frontières" ("Pollution doesn't know borders") and the English says "We share this world". I just loved the messages and having found their blog before I went to the beach, knowing the spirit behind their message --- it was all very moving:

Of course, once settled on the beach, we got to see the mandatory beach camel:

I guess I shouldn't be too sad for this camel. There are worse things than walking along a beach all day, carrying tourists. He could have been someone's dinner.

This beach is known as Kasbah Beach because you have a full view of the kasbah (fortress/castle) of Mirleft in the distance behind the beach. I really wanted to drive up to the kasbah and then climb up to the ruins, but there was no time on this trip. Perhaps this is a sign I will get to come back some day? Here is the view of the kasbah from the beach:

Here are some more pictures of the cliff over the beach, the stairs to the beach, and the message on the stairs. Of course, you'll see me and my trusty "Fund for Teachers" bag:

We left the beach around 7pm to go back and get ready for our evening with the Moroccan Human Rights Association (see the next blog posting for more details).

Trip to Tan-Tan

Mission: Get past the High Atlas and Anti-Atlas Mountains and see the Sahara Desert. Our final destination as we drove out of Mirleft: Tan-Tan Beach (aka Tan-Tan Plage). Here's a map to help orient you: (If you click on the map it should take you to a website with a larger version of this same map.)

My home base here in the south of Morocco is Mirleft, which is on the coast south of Tiznit and north of Sidi Ifni. The drive to Tan-Tan from Mirleft takes about 6 hours on a  two-lane highway that runs through Guelmime and a lot of mountains and desert.

In and around Mirleft, the only camels you see are those for tourists on the beaches. Ironically, as we drove out of Mirleft, we passed by a guy riding a camel!

[I will insert video of this later, when I have access to faster internet speeds]

Throughout this southern part of Morocco, and specifically the region known as the Sous Valley, pride in their Berber heritage and culture is particularly strong. There is a real sense that the people of Morocco  want to fully claim their Berber roots and protect their indigenous customs. I found some graffiti on a rural building in the Sous Valley that we passed on our way from Mirleft to Guelmime. Ironically, it is written in French (the colonial language of Morocco). The symbol stands for Amazigh (which is Berber word for "Berber", although it literally means "free man") and is intended to represent a man with his fists raised as a sign of defiance and dignity. Here is the picture of the graffiti:

The spectacular High Atlas mountains are remote and living there is tough. They are really in a desert climate (in terms of rainfall), but they appear green because of the brush and argan trees there. Here is a picture that illustrates the countryside between Mirleft and Guelmime. I love the home nestled at the base:

After about an hour and a half on a winding, mountainous, 2-lane "highway" that was sometimes blocked by herds of goats, we arrived in Guelmime. This is the first city where I really felt a Saharawi presence. Morocco is still at war with the Polisario over territorial claims to the Western Sahara. The people of the Western Sahara call themselves Sahrawi. Although Guelmime is still in Morocco proper, there are many people who live there who are Sahrawi. They speak their own dialect of Arabic, different from the Moroccan dialect known as derriga, they dress differently, and they tend to resent northern Moroccans. Nonetheless, we stopped at a café for breakfast and toured the marketplace in Guelmime. Here is a picture of Guelmime from the rooftop of the café, notice the old buildings surrounded by newer ones, and the mountains in the distance:

In this picture (above), the white that you see on the side of the mountain are white rocks that have been placed there in the sign of the royal crest with the Arabic words of the Moroccan national motto "Allah, Wattan, Malik" ("God, Nation, King") under the crest. This type of display can be seen on many hillsides and mountainsides across Morocco.

As we toured the market in Guelmime, my son tried on a local headdress and decided to buy it for our trek into the desert. In the background, you can see the traditional blue and brown gowns that men wear in the Sahara regions:

As we headed out of Guelmime and away from the mountains towards Tan-Tan, the landscape was decidedly more desert-like. I have a comment here about the weather: (silly me) I thought it would be hot, hot, hot. As an Oklahoma girl, it takes a lot to convince me its hot. However, this part of the desert is close enough to the ocean, that the winds were cool and there was fog hanging in the air much of the day. Not really my idea of hot. I needed a light sweater to keep away the chill. However, the landscape was definitely desert-like. Notice how much more sparse the land is:

We finally saw dunes about 60 km north of Tan-Tan:

About 30 km north of Tan-Tan, we came upon this abandoned kasbah or fort at Tafnidilt. A brief internet search has informed me the French were the last to use this site as an outpost overlooking the valley beyond. I wish we had had time to go all the way up to this kasbah on foot --- it would have been interesting to explore:

Finally, we reached Tan-Tan. Really, Tan-Tan is a modern town of commerce and industry. There was no history there to see. Everything was pretty modern and sterile. However, the camels at the entrance to the city were emblematic of all the dromedary camels we would see throughout the day:

The only really interesting thing about Tan-Tan is that is was the gathering point for the Marche Verte in 1975. Looking at this desolate land, the gateway to the Sahara, I cannot imagine millions of poor, hungry, and tired Moroccans marching from this town into the desert. Yikes. (Consult the link if you want to know more.)

So, we quickly left Tan-Tan and headed 30 km west towards the coast to Tan-Tan beach. Here is the view from that road, notice how flat and dry:

And here is a view of the beach at Tan-Tan:

As far as beaches go, I suppose this one is nice enough. But, after the spectacular beaches near Kénitra and around Mirleft, this beach is a bit over-crowded and basic. I am sure that it is wonderful for the local people to come to this beach and have a good time with their families, but for tourists or for adventurers, this beach is a bit disappointing. The best news about this beach? I can say I've been there and it is the farthest south I have been in Morocco.

We did have a moment of humor as we passed this campsite: (Notice the "No Camping" sign...)

Having traveled for hours, we were ready for lunch, so we went into the center of Tan-Tan Beach and did what Moroccans do to make sure their meal is fresh and sanitary: We went to the butcher shop. If you buy your meat direct from a butcher, you can take it to a nearby restaurant and have then cook it for you on a barbecue grill. So, first stop: Butcher Shop. I wanted ground beef, but we saw the dromedary head and legs hanging at the entrance to the butcher shop:

My son Khalil doing his best to look like the dromedary camel.

This was my second sighting of camel at a butcher shop (see my blog posting about Fès). The guys just couldn't resist: They had to taste camel. So, we bought ground beef and a bit of camel and then set off to look for a place to eat. Right near the butcher's shop there was a series of small "restaurants" with indoor and outdoor seating. Honestly, none of them would pass the Health Department inspection back home, but the men running the barbecue pits in front of each establishment were friendly and persuasive. They could tell we weren't Moroccan so they spoke to us in a broad mix of languages: English, Spanish, French, Portuguese, Italian, and Arabic. Indeed, this region of Morocco once was a colony of Spain and indications of Spanish influence were everywhere. Here is a sign in front of one of the restaurants, the name of the restaurant is in French (Chez Saïda) but the message "sin comande" (meaning you can eat right away, you don't have to order ahead) is in Spanish:

We finally decided on what appeared to be the cleanest place to eat and we chose to eat inside, in an upstairs loft area. I liked the view from the window, with a perspective of Tan-Tan Beach as a town with the ocean in the distance:

As soon as all the meat was grilled, we ate it with fresh salad and soda. Here's the camel meat on a plate, which the guys traveling with me ate and I did not eat (I was happy with my ground beef):

They tell me it was chewy but delicious. I'm taking their word for it. When we met all the dromedary camels later on, I was glad I hadn't eaten one.

So, after eating lunch and stopping to mail a postcard to the Fund for Teachers, we headed back on the road towards Tan-Tan. Along the way, we came across a herd of dromedary camels. I thing there were easily 50 camels in the heard. Of course, we stopped for pictures and got to meat the herder:

The herder was not Berber, unlike so many people I have met in the south of Morocco. He was Arab and he spoke Hassaniya, a dialect of Arabic spoken by Sahrawi people. This dialect is very difficult for other Arabic-speakers to understand, even Moroccans. However, we were able to communicate a bit. We asked the camel herder how many camels were in his herd. He said he didn't know how to count, but we weren't sure if this meant that he literally did not know how to count (not good if you're a herder!) or if he was speaking figuratively and meant that he wouldn't know where to begin counting. No matter. He was friendly and answered our questions. He wouldn't let us ride his camel, though, because he said his camel was mean. It was quite an experience, even though I felt like a very annoying tourist.

As we passed back through Tan-Tan, I was able to capture this picture of a woman in her traditional Sahrawi clothing. What she is wearing is called a malahfa. It is a long, wide length of brightly colored cloth that women drape around themselves. The last yard and a half or so of the cloth serves as both a head scarf and a face covering. I have seen women holding the cloth across their face out of modesty. I have also seen them holding the cloth in their teeth to cover part of their face when their hands are full. Moroccan women do not traditionally wear this type of cloth, but the further south we have gone, the more women I have seen dressed in a malahfa. Moroccan women, like Moroccan men, will traditionally wear a djelleba when they go out in public.

As we headed out of town, we passed back by the dromedary camel statues, but this time the flags were up:

On the road from Tan-Tan back to Guelmime, we passed by this beautiful marabout's shrine. Marabout's are a quirk in North African islamic practice. Islam doesn't have saints, but in North Africa they have saints and they call them marabouts. A marabout's shrine honors a man buried there who was considered a great scholar of Islam or a blessing to his people. There are confraternities that maintain the marabout sites, hold festivals for the marabout, and often perpetuate the marabout's teaching. People travel to visit marabouts' shrines, often to have special prayers answered or to receive some kind of blessing or healing. This is a simple marabout's shrine, some are much more complex:

As we passed through Guelmime, we found the camel market --- the one site for which Guelmime is known. All the guide books mention the camel market in Guelmime. When we had passed through in the morning, the market was closed. But as we came back through later in the day, the camel bartering and sales were in full swing, so we stopped to watch:

[I will post video here once I get where I have better internet service.]

The market was really one big corral:

There were about 60 dromedary camels there for sale. Men wandered among the camels while yelling out  to the auctioneer and young guys would then chase down the camel up for sale (yes, one camel at a time --- not easy at all!): 

Once a camel was sold, a group of young men would chase it down, grab it by the tail, wrestle it to the ground, and then hobble it by tying a rope front a front leg to a back leg. This was completely insane to watch! Here are two hobbled baby camels:

Here is a picture of the three young men traveling with me. From left to right: Rachid (a young Berber man who lives in a village outside Tiznit, is studying Chemistry at the university in Agadir, and who speaks Berber, Arabic, French, and English to varying degrees), my son Khalil, and his cousin/my nephew Aiman (who just graduated high school and speaks Arabic, Berber, and French):

The camel market was interesting. It reminded me of the Stockyards in Oklahoma City without all the pens. However, we decided to leave when we had the sad experience of seeing a young camel get his leg broken when they were trying to run him down to hobble him. It was sad to see. 

As we drove out of town, we rode behind this truck. The camel was about as big as the truck. The picture says it all.:

We made it to Sidi Ifni before sundown. We've visited the beach at Sidi Ifni and driven through this town before, but on our way back to Mirleft, we stopped to have a look around. Sidi Ifni used to be a Spanish town, so a lot of the homes and buildings look like they could be in Spain, probably built between the 1920's and the 1950's. Here is a picture of what appears to be an abandoned hotel, just overlooking one of the beaches in Sidi Ifni. Notice the sign in front. It says "Hotel Restaurant Suerte Loca" and points down the road a bit:

We followed that sign to a terrace overlooking this view of the Atlantic Ocean:

There was also this lighthouse, in a Moorish/Spanish style:

My favorite thing: This great picture I took of a cat lounging outside the lighthouse ---

Moroccan cats live in the streets and are very wary of people. They tend to be very sickly and skinny. This one was very healthy and fit --- surely because of all the fish in the area. He was not an easy subject and refused to look my way for the longest time. I love how he is dominating the fish!