6/21 Casablanca

Class today was short. Last night I studied until I fell asleep, twice, but it paid off. Today the quiz was an oral dictation, which we had to jot down. I felt pretty good about it, though I forgot the hamza’s. In the afternoon we went to the café to practice in public. I felt pretty good about the situation in theory, but when it came to my turn to order, I got anxious and my mind blanked. I managed to ask for a coffee, black with no milk. Normally coffee’s here are about half milk and come in a small cup. Sure enough, my order came out in a small glass, and it was black, but hilariously enough they still only gave me the same amount of coffee. There wasn’t even a shot’s worth of coffee in there; maybe they only give that amount regardless. Afterwards I stopped by the bank before returning home and packing. On the way home a nice guy walked with me and we talked in French about Morocco in general and languages and Casablanca. Casablanca was my out when the guy invited me over to his friends place. He was very genial, so friendly, in fact, that he invited me over to share his snack.

A group of ten of us went to Casablanca, Matt had to drop out because he’s going to the Morocco-Rwanda game tonight, the lucky dog. Whitney left early with her two friends, who we met up with at the club later that night. Not including them, my traveling companions consisted of Katrina, her host-sister Selma, Sam, Mely, Dooler, Lizzie, Julia, Naomi, and Kristen, the last two of which organized this fiesta. We walked to the train and purchased one-way tickets to Casa-port (basically because none of us knew how to do roundtrip tickets in Morocco). Though there were about four stops in between, we didn’t have to make any transfers. However, mid-transport, we did have to change hotels, as our first one gave away our reservations (Seinfeld anyone?). Thanks to Rough guide, we got everything figured out, and arrived an hour and a half later. Fortunately, Selma hooked us up with taxis to get to the hotel, so we could drop off our stuff before heading to the beach.

We took taxis to Miami Beach, which the Rough Guide said was the best, however, there wasn’t actually a beach there, just some sharp pointy rocks some brave fishermen were balancing on. We kept walking to an actual beach, taking some wrong turns along the way. Anyway, we finally made it to the beach, and called the other groups that didn’t go with us to the Supermarket. The beach was definitely different than Rabat, for one thing, there was only no one in the water. Someone noted they heard Casablancans avoid the water at the beach, which definitely showed here. Regardless, we showed them the water was fine, as we used our surfing lessons to catch some nice bodysurfing runs. This weird kid kept following Mely, so I blocked him for a while (a very long while) until he got bored. Poor girls, the stereotypical Moroccan guy really needs to learn how to act more respectful. We made friends with our neighbors back on the shore, and took each others pictures, before a horse arrived. Weird, but it makes since, as the owner led it around and locals took pictures with it. Everyone sat around, and I wasn't into tanning, so I joined some locals with a soccer ball on the shore. We juggled for a while, but apparently I made enough to start a game, so we soon switched to 3 on 2. As we played, more joined in, and we soon had the largest game going on the beach. I was having a good day, and gave a couple assists, which made our forward trust me. However, I didn’t really start getting the ball until I scored two in a row (including a header), at which point I had complete credit with both teams. Our group came up to cheer for me after a while, which was fun and definitely kept me running, and I made a couple of friends including one guy on the other team who was pretty much my equal, and we kept trying to outdo the other. The highlight of the game for me was when we reached maximum (8 on 8 or so), and they wouldn’t let this other local kid play. He got really upset, and when he saw me he said in French (so I could hear) “You let Frenchie here play but not me!?!” They walked him off the field a couple times, but had no problem with “Frenchie” playing over the local. Also, to add to ‘how the game was meant to be played’ we played along the coast, and as the tide went out, so extended our field, which was amazing. As the sun was setting it was hard to keep in the game and not just soak in the beauty (actually that's a lie, I had no problem staying in the game). After at least 2 hours I had to leave, as my blistering feet were killing me and they were sad to see me go.

We were all hungry and Naomi started talking to the hotel check-in guy about places to eat. He told us about his favorite place, 'La Bodega,' and he even offered to lead us there. Despite the street harassment that the women get, the stereotypical Moroccan is very friendly and often offer to help you find where you're going. This hasn't been the first guy who even led us to the place. Once there, we got a table after about 30 minutes, and I got whatever Simo’s favorite meal was (chicken, shrimp, and something I had no idea what it was, in nuggets form). La Bodega also had music, and after we finished our meal we took turns dancing in the small area we had. Apparently after Priveledge I have been labeled a good dancer, which was a tiring label to live up to as the night went on. While dancing, I also got a fun talk to by one of the guys there, when I apparently “blocked his game twice.” His game apparently was creepily going behind the girls and dancing with them almost without them noticing. I did notice and stepped between, which of course earned me his love.

Eventually, Mely had a dehydration/heat spell, so we went outside and got her air and water when she almost fainted. We chilled outside there for a while, and the waiters took care of her. They kept bringing her water in a glass, but the third one had a cockroach in it. Mely refused it, but the waiter said it was cool and then sucked the water off of the cockroach. Apparently it was plastic - he definitely got us all. We also met an American piano player out there, born in France he moved to New Orleans and was playing in the club nearby. He was very friendly and excited to meet us, 'American brothers'. We got Mely a cab, and Selma and Dooler, went with her.

On our way home, I talked with the Simo about how he hussled people, as he apparently is a professional pool player. Once again, always find a local to hang out with -aka FYOL.