I've been up to my neck workin' 6 days a week.
Wearin' holes in the soles of the shoes on my feet
Been dreamin' of gettin' away since I don't know.
Ain't no better time than now...
Want to soak up life for a while
in laid back mode.
No boss, no clock, no stress, no dress code...
Kenny Chesney probably didn't have me in mind when he wrote this song, but more on that later...
Actually, I haven't worked at all this week - I've been on recess! Just did a bunch of little things close to home.
I visited the Museum of Moroccan Judaism. Yes, you read that correctly. I don't want to get this wrong, so I'm going to use Google's own description:
Better known as simply the Jewish Museum, this is the only of its kind to be found in the
Islamic world, and is often highlighted as an example of Morocco's historic tolerance between the
two faiths. Set in a modern villa, the museum's exhibits follow the 2,000-year-old history of
Morocco's Jews. A number of rooms display various aspects of their traditions and daily life such
as torahs, Hanukkah lamps, ketubofs (marriage contracts), and traditional clothing. There are also
life-size replicas of the interior of a synagogue and a jeweler's workshop, referring to the Jews'
historical dealings in silver. A photo library displays many of Morocco's ancient synagogues,
cemeteries, holy sites, and various Mellahs and other Jewish landmarks within Morocco.
I finally found the place in a tucked away on a quiet street in a nice section of the city. Two security guards sat out in front of the property. If they weren't there, no one one ever even begin to guess what was behind the gate. All the descriptions were in French! I could figure out a lot of things, though English translations would've really helped! I read ahead of time that a English-speaking guide could be had for 10 dirhams. There was no one there when I entered, so I wandered around for a bit, then a woman appeared. The way she was dressed told me that she was a cleaning lady first and foremost, which told me that very most likely wouldn't be an English-speaker. She gave me a ticket and I gave her my 20 dirhams (about $2.35 USD) and continued on my way. She pointed me toward a couple of rooms that were darkened in the other wing of the villa and turned on the lights to the rooms for me. When I was done soon after she held out her hand - my "guide" expected 10 dirhams for her trouble. Sigh...
The other highlight of the week was a visit to a hammam, or a public steam bath. Yup. I did my homework and went to the local "hanout" buy for 10 dhs a "kiis" (pronounced with a long E sound), which is an exfoliating glove. I got a travel size soap and shampoo, not opting to invest in the traditional "savon noir" (black soap, w/ black olive base) or "ghassoul" clay w/ Argan oil (remember the tree-climbing goats?) I had remarkably found by chance the day before a pair of inexpensive plastic flip-flops that actually fit me! This is no small achievement in this country. Anyway, off to the bain turc...
I went for the whole deal - "gommage", massage, "savonnage" (scrub, you know what, bath).
This wasn't your typical public bathhouse, cheaper but crowded. Mine cost, w/ tip after, about $25 USD. I locked up my gym bag and went into a stall to strip down to bathing trunks then into a shower stall to rinse myself.
I was directed to the HOT room, which took my breath away when I stepped through the curtain. OK, this is what a tropical forest with max humidity in summer is like. After a few minutes in there I went into the (small letters) hot room and laid on a marble slab for the scrubbing. WHOA! I was told to expect a very vigorous treatment, but it still was an eye-opener, though by my definition, not painful. I glowed red like a lobster afterward every single inch of my body gave up multiple layers of skin. (And I paid for this). In a public hammam, I would have returned the favor to whoever scrubbed me. I rinsed and saw the remarkable amount of dead skin removed from my carcass. Back to the HOT room. Then to a massage room. Then HOT room. Then to hot room for soaping and rinse. Back to HOT room for 5 minutes then shower stall then dressing stall. I must say - I was way relaxed when all was said and done. My colleague steered me right.
Will I go again. Perhaps. Having a perfect (male) stranger with whom I couldn't even converse spend what had to be way over an hour working over every square centimeter of my person took a bit to get used to initially, but wasn't really a bother for me. Spending my youth in locker rooms probably helped here. A lot of my female colleagues aren't ecstatic about the idea of being topless (for certain) and bottomless (maybe) and having either a complete stranger, or worse, a friend give them the business. Whatever. I wanted the experience and I'm glad I did it.
Now to plan for my trip to the Sahara Desert in April...
No shoes, no shirt, no problems
Blues what blues? Hey, I forgot 'em
The sun and the sand and a drink in my hand with no bottom
No shoes, no shirt, no problems
Babe, lets get packed - tank tops and flip flops if u got 'em,
No shoes, no shirt, no problems
No problems...
Wearin' holes in the soles of the shoes on my feet
Been dreamin' of gettin' away since I don't know.
Ain't no better time than now...
Want to soak up life for a while
in laid back mode.
No boss, no clock, no stress, no dress code...
Kenny Chesney probably didn't have me in mind when he wrote this song, but more on that later...
Actually, I haven't worked at all this week - I've been on recess! Just did a bunch of little things close to home.
I visited the Museum of Moroccan Judaism. Yes, you read that correctly. I don't want to get this wrong, so I'm going to use Google's own description:
Better known as simply the Jewish Museum, this is the only of its kind to be found in the
Islamic world, and is often highlighted as an example of Morocco's historic tolerance between the
two faiths. Set in a modern villa, the museum's exhibits follow the 2,000-year-old history of
Morocco's Jews. A number of rooms display various aspects of their traditions and daily life such
as torahs, Hanukkah lamps, ketubofs (marriage contracts), and traditional clothing. There are also
life-size replicas of the interior of a synagogue and a jeweler's workshop, referring to the Jews'
historical dealings in silver. A photo library displays many of Morocco's ancient synagogues,
cemeteries, holy sites, and various Mellahs and other Jewish landmarks within Morocco.
I finally found the place in a tucked away on a quiet street in a nice section of the city. Two security guards sat out in front of the property. If they weren't there, no one one ever even begin to guess what was behind the gate. All the descriptions were in French! I could figure out a lot of things, though English translations would've really helped! I read ahead of time that a English-speaking guide could be had for 10 dirhams. There was no one there when I entered, so I wandered around for a bit, then a woman appeared. The way she was dressed told me that she was a cleaning lady first and foremost, which told me that very most likely wouldn't be an English-speaker. She gave me a ticket and I gave her my 20 dirhams (about $2.35 USD) and continued on my way. She pointed me toward a couple of rooms that were darkened in the other wing of the villa and turned on the lights to the rooms for me. When I was done soon after she held out her hand - my "guide" expected 10 dirhams for her trouble. Sigh...
The other highlight of the week was a visit to a hammam, or a public steam bath. Yup. I did my homework and went to the local "hanout" buy for 10 dhs a "kiis" (pronounced with a long E sound), which is an exfoliating glove. I got a travel size soap and shampoo, not opting to invest in the traditional "savon noir" (black soap, w/ black olive base) or "ghassoul" clay w/ Argan oil (remember the tree-climbing goats?) I had remarkably found by chance the day before a pair of inexpensive plastic flip-flops that actually fit me! This is no small achievement in this country. Anyway, off to the bain turc...
I went for the whole deal - "gommage", massage, "savonnage" (scrub, you know what, bath).
This wasn't your typical public bathhouse, cheaper but crowded. Mine cost, w/ tip after, about $25 USD. I locked up my gym bag and went into a stall to strip down to bathing trunks then into a shower stall to rinse myself.
I was directed to the HOT room, which took my breath away when I stepped through the curtain. OK, this is what a tropical forest with max humidity in summer is like. After a few minutes in there I went into the (small letters) hot room and laid on a marble slab for the scrubbing. WHOA! I was told to expect a very vigorous treatment, but it still was an eye-opener, though by my definition, not painful. I glowed red like a lobster afterward every single inch of my body gave up multiple layers of skin. (And I paid for this). In a public hammam, I would have returned the favor to whoever scrubbed me. I rinsed and saw the remarkable amount of dead skin removed from my carcass. Back to the HOT room. Then to a massage room. Then HOT room. Then to hot room for soaping and rinse. Back to HOT room for 5 minutes then shower stall then dressing stall. I must say - I was way relaxed when all was said and done. My colleague steered me right.
Will I go again. Perhaps. Having a perfect (male) stranger with whom I couldn't even converse spend what had to be way over an hour working over every square centimeter of my person took a bit to get used to initially, but wasn't really a bother for me. Spending my youth in locker rooms probably helped here. A lot of my female colleagues aren't ecstatic about the idea of being topless (for certain) and bottomless (maybe) and having either a complete stranger, or worse, a friend give them the business. Whatever. I wanted the experience and I'm glad I did it.
Now to plan for my trip to the Sahara Desert in April...
No shoes, no shirt, no problems
Blues what blues? Hey, I forgot 'em
The sun and the sand and a drink in my hand with no bottom
No shoes, no shirt, no problems
Babe, lets get packed - tank tops and flip flops if u got 'em,
No shoes, no shirt, no problems
No problems...
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