Sunday, November 4, 2012

"Comin' To Your City"

     I've been here in Casa for 3 months, and felt the need to. get. out. now.  4-day weekend?  Giddyap!  Spoke with many colleagues and got lots of excellent suggestions, actually, had a hard time narrowing them down.  Decided to take a bus trip way up north to a town called Chefchaouen, carved into mountains in the Rif range (the name refers to the mountain tops resembling a pair of goat horns).
     Chefchaouen was established in the late 1400s and is real close to Spain; European tourists flood into the area during the summertime.  People speak a lot of Spanish up there.  I loved being able to contribute to an intelligent conversation for the first time since late summer.  Chefchaouen is largely known for three products: its locally-produced goat cheese, its leather artisans, and marijuana.
     Yeah, that's right, mary jane, pot, weed, dope, reefer, ganja - it's 4:20 all the time in Chefchaouen.  While marijuana is illegal in Morocco, it's for some reason tolerated in Chefchaouen, where there are vast plantations nearby; depending on the route you take while hiking in the mountains within the national park you'll pass right by them.  I'll confess I wasn't dissuaded by the reports of armed guards; I wanted to see something I'll never have the chance to see otherwise.  Unfortunately, I didn't go the right direction behind the waterfall (not well marked) to see the fields, but I sure did get accosted constantly by pushers in town.  I was told they'd be persistent, but, wow, give me a break!  It started literally the minute I got off the bus.  The one guy was real kind - he had stuff for me to either smoke or shoot up.
     Ah, the bus.  I get motion sickness real bad on motor coaches, but I couldn't take a train there.  I figured if I took enough (legal) drugs I'd be ok.  I took double the Dramamine the pharmacist said and thought I was good to go.  Nah.  How I didn't vomit is a mystery.  I did NOT feel good for the 6-hour ride.  I had a list of inexpensive accommodations and since it wasn't the high (snicker) season wasn't worried about getting a place that evening, and fortunately I was right.  My hostel went for about $14USD per night.  Not fancy, but I didn't care.  Until I need to use a toliet.  There was a toilet bowl downstairs, but no toilet paper.  Guess I should've planned for that.  There was a hole in the floor and a spigot and pail.  Yep.
     Anyway, the next morning I hit the town.  Actually, it hit me.  It was s-t-e-e-p.  The town is famous for its whitewashed, blue-rinsed buildings.  The short version of why is it comes from former Jewish inhabitants who, per the Bible, originally used a particular shellfish to produce a blue dye for their prayer shawls, forgot how to make it eventually, and colored their houses blue to honor the biblical command.  Here are pics from the medina, the old, narrow, winding part of town:
 




 
     Given the people constantly soliciting me, I never felt particularly comfortable in this maze.  I don't spook easily, but my senses were on high alert the entire time.  There was also the kasbah, a fortress of sorts that looked interesting from the outside but inside supposedly didn't offer much.  I say supposedly because I didn't go in.  I didn't go in because as I approached, a guy said "cerrada".  It sure didn't look closed, but the look on his face and what I saw a guy doing inside told me all I needed to know.  Ok, about face...
 
Just because...
 

     I saw an area devoted to artisans and also a small waterfall.  Women use water diverted to a pair of sluices to do laundry.  I purposely didn't get too close for photos; I figured these poor women weren't there for my amusement.  Here are some photos from above the falls:
 
 


     Finally, I did some hiking.  I didn't go way, way up there, but enough to get some beautiful views of the already elevated town.  The first pic is of an abandoned chapel (in center of photo) then views of the town from said chapel (where, of course, I had to pass a group of n'er-do-wells to get to):
 
 
 
A door on the way up the trail?
 
Back to our regularly scheduled feature...
 


 
     It was a very nice night walking thru town, talking with shopkeepers.  Fortunately, the ride back the following morning wasn't too hellacious (only wanted retch the first hour), though if using so-called toliets with just a hole in the ground and a pail of water isn't bad enough, paying for the "privilege" is worse.  Listening to Arabic pop music for hours wasn't a highlight, though I got some of the country between Chaouen and Casa for the first time.
     Til later...

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