Sunday morning we began the early morning excursion to Zagoura, a city about 230 miles southeast of Marrakech, right at the Sahara Desert and close to the border of Algeria. It was a long trip by bus that took several extra hours since the vast majority of the trip was spent traversing windy roads through the Atlas Mountains. Even though it felt like a neverending trip that took about ten hours total (we didn't arrive until sunset), it was still a fairly interesting drive.
Of course, I got to see the mountains, and also a lot more of Morocco that I would have never seen had I just stayed in Marrakech. I definitely wouldn't call Marrakech a wealthy city by Western standards, but I could see the difference between the tourist urban area and the rest of the small towns we drove through. A lot of residences I wouldn't even call a town; many were just buildings on the side of the mountain where maybe a few families resided. A lot of the homes and buildings looked like dilapidated ruins, and if it weren't for the livestock outside and the children's toys piled on the porch, you would assume they had been abandoned years ago. Differences in social customs were apparent also. In Marrakech, it isn't weird to see women with uncovered heads, or even cruising on their motorcycles through the main square. After we had left the city, I don't remember seeing a single woman without a hijab the rest of the drive. There weren't even really women that I saw walking or associating with men. Of course, there were also many "normal" events I witnessed too: kids playing football, women hanging laundry, friends sitting in the shade to get out of the heat. We even got to visit the site where Gladiator was filmed.
After finally arriving in Zagora, we were able to ride camels to our campsite in the moonlight. There we ate a delicious meal, and then these Berber nomads sang traditional songs while playing the bongos around a huge campfire while everyone danced. The best part, however, began when the rest of the visitors went to bed. A few of the nomads took just the four of us out into the sand dunes. We spent hours with feet buried in the sand to keep warm, while they regaled us with stories from the desert, told us nomad jokes, and smoked hashish. They even valiantly tried to marry the girls. Plus, their language skills were incredible. They live in the desert, don't attend school, and haven't studies languages. Yet they could still speak fluent Berber and French, and were conversational also in English, Spanish, and Arabic. It definitely makes me feel worse about struggling with my Spanish. It was a very educational night, and we all learned a lot about their culture, which is almost completely the opposite to our own.
The next morning we all awoke early again, to watch the sun rise over the hills. In daylight, we could see that all of our surroundings were desert, and the area was known as the mouth to the Sahara. We were all dreading the 10 hour bus ride back to Marrakech, but at least the night before made the long trip worth it. As we were boarding the bus, a huge group of little boys and girls ran up to us, begging for any kind of trinket: money, food, valuables, even the clothes on our backs. It was pretty heartbreaking, and we were told not to give anything because it would make no difference since there were so many more in the same situation. But if you have the capability to help, even if it's just one person, isn't that difference enough?
"Yes, but this is one child we can help! Here!"
-The Constant Gardener
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| Snow-capped Atlas Mountains |
Of course, I got to see the mountains, and also a lot more of Morocco that I would have never seen had I just stayed in Marrakech. I definitely wouldn't call Marrakech a wealthy city by Western standards, but I could see the difference between the tourist urban area and the rest of the small towns we drove through. A lot of residences I wouldn't even call a town; many were just buildings on the side of the mountain where maybe a few families resided. A lot of the homes and buildings looked like dilapidated ruins, and if it weren't for the livestock outside and the children's toys piled on the porch, you would assume they had been abandoned years ago. Differences in social customs were apparent also. In Marrakech, it isn't weird to see women with uncovered heads, or even cruising on their motorcycles through the main square. After we had left the city, I don't remember seeing a single woman without a hijab the rest of the drive. There weren't even really women that I saw walking or associating with men. Of course, there were also many "normal" events I witnessed too: kids playing football, women hanging laundry, friends sitting in the shade to get out of the heat. We even got to visit the site where Gladiator was filmed.
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| Our new Berber friends |
The next morning we all awoke early again, to watch the sun rise over the hills. In daylight, we could see that all of our surroundings were desert, and the area was known as the mouth to the Sahara. We were all dreading the 10 hour bus ride back to Marrakech, but at least the night before made the long trip worth it. As we were boarding the bus, a huge group of little boys and girls ran up to us, begging for any kind of trinket: money, food, valuables, even the clothes on our backs. It was pretty heartbreaking, and we were told not to give anything because it would make no difference since there were so many more in the same situation. But if you have the capability to help, even if it's just one person, isn't that difference enough?"Yes, but this is one child we can help! Here!"
-The Constant Gardener
This is incredible. Visiting these places might be on the bucket list, but there is so much more to be seen and done once you actually get there, things that had never crossed your mind before. All of this in a couple of days? Absolutely spectacular.
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