Coffee, Cats, and Churches: Casablanca

Because my time is coming to an end in Morocco, and I have been REALLY slacking on the blogging end of studying abroad, I have decided to devote all the free time I have this week due to my professors being away at conferences (mostly in DC) and back in the US for Thanksgiving (I know, really sad) to catching up on writing down my adventures. I warned everyone in the first post how much I hated keeping journals and stuff like this... But I'm sure I'll be glad I did it when I'm old and senile and all that good reasoning for doing this and such....

Anywho, after spending two weekends on campus to calm down from Barcelona and recover from midterms, I needed to travel, and the opportunity presented itself as other students were planning to go to Casablanca for a marathon. Needless to say, you have to be a pretty dedicated person excited to run in a marathon in Morocco without really training. Needless to say, I am not one of those people. I prefer writing blogs reflecting on my travels and cultural experience, and we see how well I keep up with that. But, hey, it was a trip to Casablanca, so YOGMO. It's also important to remember that these plans were made around 10 p.m. on a Thursday at  Aggy's. My control freak has really been beaten out of me.

So, Friday, after classes, the group of people I was planning on traveling with and I left for the grand taxi station. After arguing that the whole car should be a certain price, and being told we would have to wait for another person to lower the total cost (a lot of sense since an extra person is worse for gas mileage). However, an AUI student showed up, and all six passengers crammed into the car. That's right-seven people total in a car built for five. Things get a little warm and close in Moroccan taxis.

About an hour later, we arrived in Meknes at the train station, where I departed on my first Moroccan train. It wasn't too bad, just very hot and stuffy. When we finally got to Casablanca, we had to find our hostel at around 9 or so, all I can remember was it was in the dark. But, no issues until we were trying to check in, when someone had forgotten their passport back at AUI. In Morocco, you have to hand over identification to check-in to hotels, and for foreigners, this often means showing your passport-sometimes even surrendering it for the key. After making up several lies trying to avoid having to go to the police station, she ended up having to go to the police station, where she endured a very traumatic experience. When I went to see her after she got back, she was still in tears, but at least she wasn't on the street sleeping.

The next day, some people doing the marathon needed to register, so those of us who enjoy the good things in life like bagels, sunshine, and puppies, decided to explore the city after having breakfast for 3 Dirham (~$0.30). It was really relaxed, just going along taking lots of pictures, so there won't be very many descriptions, just a lot of pictures. After walking by some official government buildings, we made our way to a pigeon infested square, and then, Sacre Couer-a Christian Cathedral located in Casablanca. And because I didn't see enough churches this summer in Slovakia, Hungary, and Austria, I had to go up and see the city.

When we left Sacre COuer, the day went on by going to another place of worship: the Grand Mosque, which you can see in the background, but I wanted to document the small, sassy child precariously walking along the wall. When he saw me take a picture, he demanded money, but I lied and pointed to the mosque. I should've really given him money, just to see him climb down from that wall.

Finally getting to the mosque, we spent quite some time just chilling outside taking pictures. It was simply one of the most beautiful places I've been, and probably what would represent everyone's expectations of coming to Morocco. Marble structures surrounding the huge mosque, blue and green tiles, carvings on the ceilings of walkways, fountains. And the best part was that it was right on the ocean, so the breeze is cool and relaxing, making the atmosphere even more peaceful.

There are specific times for tours of the inside of the mosque, and the next one wouldn't be for a couple of hours, so lunch was in the cards. Indulging myself in the ever classic panini quatre fromage and mint tea, we spent time at a restaurant a couple blocks away before returning for the tour. Of course, I was as ill-prepared to tour a religious establishment as ever (visiting St. Stephen's Basilica in Budapest with my tank top and ungracefully insulting St. Stephen's right mummified hand and getting kicked out), and had to borrow my friend's jacket, forming a cape to tour the mosque. It was definitely worth it though. The architecture was so beautiful. It's the largest mosque in Morocco, and over 25,000 people pray inside during Ramadan. The rood also opens for when it is too hot during the summer due to all the body heat. The coolest part was learning about the ceiling and the wood carvings, which all come from the area that I am studying in, where cedar thrives. It was very humbling to be inside, seeing the sheer massiveness. The awe-struck from the size outside definitely follows you inside.

Of course, what would Morocco be without cats? I would totally sleep here too. So peaceful.

After the tour, it was fun to watch some youths to jump off the wall into the ocean. Of course it was something I would probably never do, especially in Morocco, but they obviously wanted to put on a show. there were so many people just standing around looking over the ocean and watching the guys jump. Just a typical Saturday event it seemed like.

Next, we wanted to go to the mall-the largest in Morocco, which has TWO Starbucks. You heard me, TWO. Of course, my coffee addiction didn't start until I joined the adult world last semester when interning in DC, and certainly not overpriced Starbucks, but after a meeting on Penn Ave, I understood the obsession. Obviously, I had also been missing out on traditional fall goodies, and went straight for the pumpkin spice latte. I can't say I regret my decision. We also did a little shopping before realizing how late it was and heading back to the hostel.However, we couldn't find a taxi to take us all the way to the hotel, only to the mosque, which worked out wonderfully since we had discussed how beautiful it must be at night, and we were right.

You can see the thin light from the tower that points towards Mecca. I also absolutely love how this picture turned out, like the mosque is really connecting us down here on earth with a greater power.

The next morning was the big day for the marathoners, but I like to sleep, so Allison and I slept in, and ended up going back to the mall to have more Starbucks for breakfast. On the way there, we saw several of the marathoners-not our friends- running, and looking so distressed and lost. Poor souls, can't say I wish I would've been in their sweaty tennis shoes. Anyway, I had a delightful breakfast on the mall consisting of the second PSL in two days and a croissant fromage, although I was hoping desperately to relive Barcelona and have a bagel. Allison and I walked around the upper level of the mall-the rich part, where I was privileged to breathe the same air as people who can afford to shop at Louis Vuitton and Dior on a regular basis.

It was time to go find the finish line of the marathon to wait for our friends and cheer them on for being awesome human beings and believing in themselves. By the time we got there, all of the West Point kids had finished, unsurprisingly, so we went over to where we could see our friends finish to cheer them on. They all look exhausted, but in much better shape than I would have because running is sad and depressing to me- I don't believe that "it releases endorphines" crap. However, I simply can't express what superstars everyone who ran are; like really, you RAN a MARATHON in AFRICA. As we were waiting for everyone, an American came up to us, and we discussed studying abroad, running, and traveling. It turns out, his wife is planning to run a marathon on every continent-even Antarctica! 

When the marathon was over, it was time to go back to the hostel, collect our things and head back to Ifrane. It was such a great, relaxed weekend. No panicking about what to do, just relaxing with a latte and taking pictures of perhaps one of the most beautiful, exquisite buildings I have ever seen on the ocean. Getting back to Ifrane, I was freezing, missing the warm weather in Casa, and just preparing for the rest of the semester's cold, drizzly rain.