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9/11 & Two Muslims

Saturday, March 23rd, 2002

The next day, we spent the day in Marrakech waiting for our favorite night train back to Tangiers. I spent all afternoon at the Ali Hotel Internet Cafe while Bob went out walking through the city again. Ate dinner at a restaurant overlooking the Square. Bob had great beef stew with onions and raisons. I had a welcome spaghetti with pomodora (tomato) sauce and water. On the way back to the hotel we bought a liter of fresh squeezed orange juice for about 75 cents for the trip back on the train.

By this time I had made friends with a young man who was in charge of the Internet Cafe-Fattah Boutnach. We had been trading cultural information intermittently before we left on the excursion and since I felt there was generally a pretty good feeling between us I decided to ask the big question. The first thing he had said to me when we met was that “Americans and Europeans are very HARD.” This took me by surprise, but we do have a competitiveness that makes us hurried and sharp with each other. In the interest of being task-oriented have we gained everything at the risk of losing our souls? The rest of the world fears this is true and doesn’t want it to happen to them.

He said that my name, Eunice, is the name of a prophet in the Koran-the
‘man that was eaten by the fish” (Jonah) and that Eunice is a name for a man in the Arabic world.

But back to my big question. From Fattah’s perspective I wanted to know “what was the pain that caused 9/11?” Curiously, Fattah didn’t understand my question. The answer was political not emotional.

Fattah’s English was not that sophisticated so he invited a friend to join our conversation-a handome man in his 30’s with clear eyes and resolute but warm and friendly manner. He was clean shaven and had on a beautifully immaculate white cotton jamalla. As it turned out he was very well read in English. When asked, he said that his job was educating very young children but he quickly added that more importantly he was a student of history and philosophy. (Educating the next generation of jihadists, I wondered.) In response to the realities in the Arab speaking world he had written an article for a French publication. He promised to use a translation program on the internet to translate the article into English for me and send it to me via email which I never received.

But following are some of the comments they made during our conversation:

1. “Maybe now Americans, in particular your American government, will try to understand “the other” a people different than yourselves. Your government-and we understand that it is not done by the American people-has chipped away at our identities for years now-has denied us who we are and it is time for this to stop and the American people must understand what’s happening and put pressure on their government to get it to stop doing this.

2. They wanted to talk about the “aggression” in Afghanistan and said that they did not believe Osama bin laden was connected to 9/11 but I tried to steer the conversation away from those topics because I wanted to stay on a more personal level. They wanted to know how we knew for sure that Osama was actually saying what we thought he was saying on the videotape. I explained that the government had four different translators translate the video and that in addition, because they doubted any translation commissioned by the US government, an Arab advocacy organization also translated it. I told him we heard Osama exclaiming how it was a good thing that it happened. Then they dropped the subject but I don’t think they were convinced.

I countered to the first comment that before 9/11 Bush barely was elected president-that our intellectuals were trying to understand but the average American did not have a clue why 9/11 happened and was supporting Bush’s policy on terrorism.

The men wanted to know why and I said that because most Americans do not read and study about what our government does in other countries so they don’t know how our government is perceived by people in other countries. I continued that most American people get their information from the press but that that information was generally considered by our intellectuals to be very shallow. Also most Americans basically were not interested in international news because they are busy working to earn a living and do not see that it is relevant to their lives. So the press does not give us much international news in the first place.

The two men countered that Americans must begin reading because people in other countries are reading and are developing opinions of our government based on what they read. They gave an example-comments that our vice president, Dick Cheney made a few years ago, that is widely read in the Arab world and has them (Arabs) “scared to death.” Then Fattah’s friend gave me a list of books he thinks Americans must also read: Thomas Freeman “The Mind Managers” published by Beacon Press in Boston in 1974 and “Globalisation, The Human Consequences” by Zygment Bowman published by Cambridge Press in 1998.

By this time I had to leave for the train so we traded email addresses and we all affirmed that there is always hope for people to learn to get along with each other. I told them about John Hofer’s imperative that I report back to my friends at home what my travels revealed about what we have become in this world. Fattah told me that this was a very great responsibility. Then they said “lahamdalela” to me as I left-meaning, they said, “Thanks to God.” The conversation left me reeling.

The Atlas Mountains

Thursday, March 21st, 2002

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We took an excursion trip south and east past incredible green terraced fields and old Berber kasbahs (ancient Moroccan self-contained communities made out of the rust colored mud of the countryside)-seemingly idyllic-to the Atlas Mountains.

Our group consisted of Bob and I, a young couple from New Zealand in their thirties-one a computer/internet analyst and his partner a pharmacist, another couple about our age from Boston. He had been the president of a University in Iran before the Shah was deposed and she obviously was also well educated. He was able to escape and she soon after. He now teaches theoretical physics at a University in Boston. The fourth couple was young-he a music major at a California school. The last two were a couple of great guys from Italy that we called �The Italians! who gave us some menu items we could order when we got to Italy.

On the way to the Sahara we passed over the Atlas Mountains (about 12,000 feet) and through the towns of Tinerhir and Boumalne. The first night we slept in a small Berber Hotel that was in the process of being renovated at the head of the Dades Gorge. The room was cold with a concrete floor but offered
several very thick heavy blankets-like the blankets used on the camels. The evening included a walk up an incredibly beautiful gorge and a dinner of Chicken Tangine. Oddly there were only two small pieces of chicken for every four people but otherwise it was very good. In the morning we had a breakfast of rolls, coffee, butter and jam before continuing on to Erfoud and then to Merzouga. We stopped in Kassah for lunch. (The cafes with the best toilettes get the most tourist business!) We all had beef kabobs and moroccan salad (tomatoes, cucumber, olives, onions) and water.

In the afternoon we walked through a Berber kasbah. We took a trail through the fields to learn about tribal farming; then walked through the kasbah and into a building where some women weavers presented their carpets. Bob was a sitting duck by this time and we are now the proud owners of a small Berber carpet.

By evening we reached an area where we were put astride camels that walked single file for a couple hours at sunset through the largest sand dunes in the world (the Al-chabbi sand dunes) to a Berber tent camp. One rides a camel on a big thick blanket just behind the camel�s hump with the pubic bone rocking back and forth against the hump. I told Bob to be careful or I�d trade him in for a camel! The Berber guy leading the trek cautioned the men to be careful of their ‘iggs.”

The encampment consisted of cloth tents joined together with heavy blankets and pads on the ground. Two good looking young Berber men cooked delicious Tagine with beef, carrots, onions and potatoes which we ate sitting in a circle on the ground with bread and our hands in groups of four. They served orange slices sprinkled with cinnamon and mint tea for dessert. Afterward the boys played Berber beats on the drums. Roosters from a nearby encampment woke us up at a breathtaking sunrise over the dunes.

The next day offered an eleven hour brutal van ride back to Marrakech with a short stop to eat lunch on a terrace at a small restaurant in Tirhan. We both ordered a �hamburger� that turned out to be a stew of tiny meatballs in tomato, onion, eggplant mixture. It surprised the heck out of us but was very good.

A few hours out of Marrakech we were pretty nervous about the narrow and curvy mountain road and we begged the driver to stop and take a break-which he did. The roadside stand had fresh Tangine, soup mint tea, coffee and soft drinks. The very friendly older man standing behind the food bench was offering me a small bowl of soup for 1.5 euros when I heard the driver in a scolding voice tell the food seller to charge 5 euros.

In Marakech that night the Ali Hotel was full because there was a holiday that weekend (we never did figure out what it was.) There also was an international meeting of some kind in the city during this time. So we stayed in the Hotel Eddakhla-a pretty basic hotel on a pretty rough street with a lot of beggars, no lift-just stairs-very deep and steep and narrow and on top of that the WC and shower was down on the first floor. The room had a sink and bidet but was very stuffy with no window to the outside. Bob bristled when a young man at the desk demanded his passport �for the police,� Bob of course thinking he wanted to take the passport which would violate rule number one: never give up your passport to anyone for any reason!

Ate dinner at one of the hundreds of eating stalls set up in the square every night that serve harira, kabobs and fish stews. Some of the stalls specialized in goat head meat-complete with whole goat heads set up in a row for viewing-that was patronized almost entirely by the locals. However, we sat at a stall that was probably set up to attract the tourists. We had beef kebobs peppers, spinach, fish, moroccan salad olives and mint tea. It was the worst meal in Morocco and Bob was very offended when the waiter slammed a small tin plate down on the table and demanded a tip. There goes those filters again!

How people experience a country seems almost accidental at times!

Pink And Tent-like Marrakech

Wednesday, March 20th, 2002
Founded in 1070–72 by the Almoravids, the Medina of Marrakesh remained a political, economic and cultural centre for a long period. Its influence was felt throughout the western Muslim world, from North Africa to Andalusia. It has several impressive monuments ... [Continue reading this entry]

Night Train To Marrakech

Tuesday, March 19th, 2002
pjSwKsKjPzr5gOYYAx9PKM-2006172104421567.gif The night train to Marrakech really gave us an opportunity to stretch our cultural boundaries! You have a 9 foot by 9 foot compartment with three "beds" or platforms on each side with ... [Continue reading this entry]