well i’m on my way…

Woke up and had a breakfast of bread and a ‘pancake’-spongy, holy yellow bread that had the consistency of a sponge (yes I have chewed on a sponge before, don´t ask) with butter and jam, coffee, and OJ-fresh OJ.  We headed out to book our desert tour and to call my bank.  They informed me that the problem wasn´t them, that the Moroccan machines were rejecting my card for whatever reason.  It was out of their control.  I swallowed this informating, realizing that I was on a tight budget, since I only had 250 USD and 100 English Pounds on me.  That was all the money I had for Morocco.  Yikes!

To escape the heat, we headed for what is called a park next to the mosque that dominates the square.  We sat for a long time, in the shade, comparing notes between our culture and theirs. 

We wandered some more, Ryan decided to get a hair cut, to make his mohawk stand out even more, so we had to haggle for that.  Once decided on a price of 3 Euro, I watched like a hawk to make sure this guy didn´t destroy his hair.  We came across men selling random things on blankets, two right next to eachother, and I saw a pair of scissors, which I had been saying that I needed.  I asked the second guy how much, he replied 10, so I went over to the other guys, how much did they want?  15, they said, I laughed, said this guy wants 10!  Went back to him, handed him the a 20 Durham coin, and he gave me 15 back.  He was just happy I came back to him.  Nice, even cheaper.  After walking around some more, we both started feeling woozy from the heat.  It probably was close to 40 C, near 100 F, but since there was no humiditiy, it wasn´t that bad, but it still was bad. 

I got hissed at by men and watched them through my sunglasses make ‘elevator eyes’ at me.  I could see the lust in some of their eyes, and thought to myself with a laugh ‘I know you want me.’ 

Back to hostel for a nap and to chat with Kemal who wanted to hear any crazy stories.  I could never tell if he was genuine or mocking in his inquiries.  Ryan and I needed laundry done, so we went to the place Kemal takes the hotels laundry.  Perhaps I offended the guy by bringing my underwear, as he held it so delicately away from him, and that´s why he overcharged us.  It was a bit of a nerving experience, as no one there spoke English and Ryan and I are both nervous about other people cleaning our clothes.

We headed out for dinner; I had the most watery couscous I´ve ever had; I thought couscous was supposed to be dry.  We ordered some olives too, but they had some spices on them that reminded me of the feces smell that seems to blanket the whole city.  In my opinion, olives don´t need spices.  They´re flavorful enough. 

We headed out for the new town, to see what there is to see, and ran into some couchsurfers and their host heading the same way.  Couchsurfing is this wonderful idea that people can sleep on other people´s couches for free all over the world.  Ryan and I have been trying like hell to be part of this community, to save a buck or two, but with no luck.  We heard that you really have to make it sound like you really really want to get to know the people whose house they´d be sharing with you.  We just wanted free accomodation, and if the people were cool, thats a plus.  We also dont have any references so people are less likely to host you; its a bit of a catch-22.  We realized that after hanging out with these people at a juice bar that you also have to kiss your hosts ass, which is somehting Ryan and I refuse to do.  We aren´t brown nosers, and feel it´s really fake and decietful.  No couchsurfing for us! 

We left the couchsurfers quickly and realized that it opened up some channel for us, as we realized we had a lot to say about travel and people and how it affects them and how it affects us.  You´d think it´d restore ones faiting in humainty, but it´s done just the opposite.  I´ve become more intraverted, more skeptical, less trusting, more…me.  All these people go aorund and act like crazy carefree people for what?  So others think they´re ‘cool’?  I don´t get it.  I want to see, feel, react, observe, experience, and most of that doesn´t mean I have to give myself up (emotionally) to people I´ll never see again nor care to.  Of course all of the people I´ve met don´t fit into this category, but unfortunately, most of them have. 

I´ve given up looking at faces as we walk by, I´m sick of being looked at like a piece of shit (or meat).  Ryan´s getting sick of it too, but he´s getting aggressive, which is entertaining.  We headed back to the hotel before both or either of us snapped.

This entry was posted on Saturday, July 25th, 2009 at 6:55 am and is filed under Africa. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.