"Wake Me Up When September Ends"

Summer has come and passed
The innocent can never last
Wake me up when September ends...

It's only coincidental that this Green Day tune is from the album American Idiot.

I'm taking off for a week.

As my memory rests
But never forgets what I lost
Wake me up when September ends...
 

"Redneck Yacht Club"

I'm meeting my buddies out on the lake
We're headin' out to a special place
We love that just a few folks know
there's no signing up, no monthly dues...

Um, with apologies to Chris Morgan, that's not entirely accurate.  The Churchill Club is not on the lake, and members would have to pay dues.  Why don't I just let you read from their Facebook page:

The Churchill Club - serving the English speaking community since 1923

The Churchill Club is a meeting place for English speakers in the Ain Diab suburb of Casablanca. With a bar, restaurant and garden, the Club provides a relaxing place to meet other English speakers, Moroccan and expats alike.

 

 

The club is nestled quietly, almost hidden, within the Corniche, a neighborhood that lines the ocean, with the Ain Diab beach, and many hotels, restaurants and nightclubs.  When I was looking up info for this post I came across this wonderful article written by a woman about her evening there:

 

http://www.justluxe.com/community/casablancas-exclusive-churchill-club_a_1777706.php

 

I was among numerous colleagues who attended a trivia night.  6 of us younger folk (actually, 5 much younger colleagues and me :( teamed up to take on co-workers and other English-speakers from other places in Casa.  We all dined on fish & chips; I treated myself to the very rare Grey Goose & tonic (for 50 dirhams, why the heck not?)  Our team just missed making the money, but at least we topped our colleagues (hee hee).

I was also down along the Corniche very recently and finally walked out to Marabout de Sidi Abderrahmane.  First a pic:

 

Before this year, it could be accessed only by boat or walking out at low tide.  Now a structure allows you to walk to it from the beach.  I am going to pilfer from Morocco.com for a description:

"The first thing a visitor should know about the Marabout de Sidi Abderrahmane in Morocco is that it is not a normal religious building or place of worship – it is a burial ground. The Marabout de Sidi Abderrahmane is located just off the coast of Casablanca on a large, rocky outcrop of land. As if that wasn’t odd enough, the actual tombs on the outcrop take the shape of a series of little white domes. The tomb belongs to Sidi Abderrhamane Thaalibi, the founder of the Thaalibiya (now Algiers). He is generally considered to be a Saint by most Moroccans, and so his burial grounds are seen as being holy ground. Because of this, many people make informal pilgrimages to the Marabout de Sidi Abderrhmane in Morocco to reflect on life or to seek spiritual enlightenment. The custom of visiting venerated tombs for such purposes dates back to ancient times and has a special place in the lives of many Moroccans. A large number of people also visit the Marabout de Sidi Abderrhmane because it is believed that Saint Abderrahmane has miraculous healing powers which might help people suffering from some sort of physical ailment. Thus, they go in search of a cure.
Whether you’re visiting the Marabout de Sidi Abderrahmane in search of physical healing, spiritual vision or great sightseeing, you will enjoy a trip to this somewhat different tourist attraction and religious site. Visitors do well to remember, however, that it is a venerated site and that it must be treated with the utmost respect. They might also want to be prepared to witness some rather unusual practices, such as the offering of animal sacrifices which is rare but which might happen as it is part of the ancient customs of some Moroccans."

I've heard some say it's nothing but a crock of poo.  It was an interesting sight to see the remains of animals and wonder what I (fortunately) missed.

Anyway, I'm outta here.  Hope to break in the lab coat next Saturday.  You'll just have to wait and see what for...

Bermudas, flip-flops and a tank top tan
popped his first top at ten a.m., that's Bob
he's our president
we're checking out the girls on the upper deck rubbin' in 15 SPF, it's hot
everybody's jumpin' in
later on when the sun goes down
we'll pull out the jar and the old guitar
and pass 'em around

Basstrackers, Bayliners and a party barge,
strung together like a floating trailer park anchored out and getting' loud
all summer long side by side there's five houseboat front porches AstroTurf,
lawn chairs and tiki torches
regular Joes rocking the boat that's us
the redneck yacht club

"If You're Going Through Hell"

Well you know those times
When you feel like there's a sign there on your back
Says I don't mind if ya kick me
Seems like everybody has
Things go from bad to worse
You'd think they can't get worse than that
And then they do

You step off the straight and narrow
And you don't know where you are
Use the needle of your compass
To sew up your broken heart
Ask directions from a genie
In a bottle of Jim Beam
And she lies to you
That's when you learn the truth

Rodney Atkins, everyone!  Read nothing into this week's title; it was actually a good week.  I'll get to the reason for the title shortly...

I spend an exorbitant amount of time reading news online.  Saw an article about Morocco a couple days ago, thought I'd pass it along, to give a glimpse into the land in which I live...

http://www.foxnews.com/world/2013/09/13/morocco-unveils-long-awaited-judicial-reforms

Wednesday of course was the 12th anniversary of 9-11.  I don't recall seeing or hearing much of anything last year.  I know some colleagues dealt with some stuff.  This year a student said something to try to provoke me; I pretended to not hear and kept walking away.  I got a little aroused at the thought of strangling him with his own tongue.  Only the thought of Moroccan prison kept me at bay...

Friday night went downtown with a handful of friends for some yummy pizza.  I love going downtown; if you keep your gaze at eye level, the city looks like any other urban sewer.  If you look around, and if you're like me, you enjoy the endless parade of tall white buildings with French Colonial and Art Deco architecture lining the wide boulevards.  Dinner was followed by drinks on an apartment rooftop.  Good stuff...

Saturday night brought game time!  My beloved Alabama Crimson Tide visited College Station to get revenge on Texas A&M.  Our financial poobah and his wife are Aggies; they were wonderful hosts as we watched the contest projected on the wall of their apartment.  My department head was there; she is an Aggie, too, as were the hostess' parents.  I was severely outnumbered.  Fortunately, the good guys prevailed, in a wild affair.  It was r-e-a-l-l-y hard to control myself at times...

This afternoon, I went downtown to the Ancienne Medina.  If I may borrow from Lonely Planet (and even if I can't, I'm going to anyway):

Casablanca's modest medina gives an idea of just how small the city was before the French embarked on their massive building program. Even though it's the oldest part of the city, most of the buildings date from the 19th century and it lacks the medieval character of other city medinas.
Enter the medina from the northeast corner of the Place des Nations Unies near the restored clock tower. The narrow lanes to the east are piled high with cheap shoes, high-sheen synthetic underwear and household goods, while the rest of the medina remains largely residential. On the north side of the medina, facing the port, you'll see the last remains of Casablanca's 18th-century fortifications. Known as the sqala, the bastion offers panoramic views over the sea.


From the outside...


From the inside...


With apologies to Dante, this is what gave inspiration for the title of today's post.  Talk about a den of thieves!  Oh, the myriad ways the merchants try to separate you from your hard-earned dirhams.  I don't even know where to start.  I walked out of there with a white lab coat.  Why, you ask?  Perhaps, another day...

Well I been deep down in that darkness
I been down to my last match
Felt a hundred different demons
Breathing fire down my back
And I knew that if I stumbled
I'd fall right into the trap that they were laying, yeah

But the good news
Is there's angels everywhere out on the street
Holding out a hand to pull you back up on your feet
The one's that you've been dragging for so long
You're on your knees
You might as well be praying
Guess what I'm saying

If your going through hell
Keep on going, don't slow down
If you're scared don't show it
You might get out
Before the devil even knows you're there

"My Kinda Party"

Worked all week.
Cleaned up, clean cut, and clean shaved.
Got the cover off a ’68.
I fired it up, and let them horses sing...
Baby, what you got goin’ on Saturday?
You know, words got it, there’s gonna be a party,
Out of town about half a mile.
Four wheel drives and big mud tires.
Muscadine wine
Well, with apologies to Jason Aldean,  maybe it didn't quite go down like that, but it was an interesting first week of school.  There was the armed robbery, but we'll get back to that...

On Monday I joined a nearby gym.  I had better equipment in my high school weight room in the mid '80s, but the price is pretty right, and it's within walking distance.  The only inconvenience is that it's open to me on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.  Why is that?  Bueller?  Bueller?  Men and women cannot work out in there at the same time.  The ladies can use it on Tues/Thurs/Sat, and its closed on Sunday.  Shockingly (snicker) the guy at the desk tried to cheat me on the sign-up fee, and he succeeded.  Short version, I didn't catch him til Wednesday, but I did get him!  Anyway, It was H-O-T in there, but I liked that, though I got thru alright (I didn't puke until Friday, but that's another story).

Since it's me we're talking about, food has to fit into the equation (food squared + Jack = Yum).  I put in an order for a kilo (yes, a kilo) of homemade flour tortillas made by a local staff member.  Oh my are they good - I can't wait!  Went out for chow on Friday with some friends to a Chinese place.  I'm not sure it has an official name.  Some call it Chinese Villa, creatively named since it's a Chinese joint built into a villa.  Some just call it the Chinese place.  Whatever.  It's great; they treat us real nice.

On the flip side, we went to brunch on Saturday.  One guy and I ordered a Hawaiian pizza.  It was a white pie, and it had pineapple, but guess what else?  Chicken, mushrooms and...kernels of corn?  Odd, but it worked.  Then we went to a nice little souk tucked in behind some buildings across the street from the French Market.  The nut guy is the man!  I saw some broccoli and went to check it out.  I give thanks to Mom here because she taught me things to look for when buying veggies, and I knew this stuff looked fine, but wasn't really.  The guy stopped me when I went to walk away and brought out the good stuff from underneath the stand.  Now we're talking...

When do we get to the armed robbery?  Patience...
I'll warm up with the illness and near-violence on Friday.  Something struck me midday Friday which in short led to my praying to the porcelain god in the cafeteria staff bathroom.  The day had begun with my roomie, 3 female staff and I standing on the corner waiting for the school bus (for you wiseacres, it is a short bus).  A man approaches the women, I'm half-paying attention.  I know enough to know he wants money.  When I hear the one woman who is a local talking back to him, I don't know what they're saying to each other, but I figure it's time for him to leave.  I look at him and he's yapping to me.  Whatever.  I just put down the bags I 'm holding, stagger my feet and wait to see if he is stupid enough to do anything.  He soon walks away down the street, running his mouth along the way.  The woman who had been talking to him told me that what he was saying in Arabic was that he knows me and is going to get me.  Whatever.  Now, we get to the armed robbery...

I use the term armed robbery a bit loosely; I just wanted to pique your interest.  I was robbed, in a sense, and the man had gun, though I'm sure he had no plans to use it.  The uniform was more than enough.  You see where this is going?  Allow me to fill in the blanks...
Certain details will be withheld to protect the not-so-innocent.  On Saturday, a Moroccan staff member was driving his car, with me in the back and another expat staff in the front.  We were on the AutoRoute (turnpike), driving safely and legally when we were pulled over.  We knew what was coming.  The driver got out, and approached the officer behind the vehicle.  When he got back in, he simply said: "cent" which is French for hundred.  It's a shame that we were just pleased it wasn't more, given what usually happens.  My expat colleague was aghast at how blatant a scene it was.  I replied that I appreciated that it occurred in a routine, upfront manner as opposed to the shady and/or hypocritical dealings you might encounter elsewhere...

Oh baby, you can find me.
On the back of a jacked up tailgate...
And I’ll find peace.
At the bottom of a real tall cold drink.
I'm chillin' with some Skynyrd and some old Hank.
Lets get this thing started.
It’s my kind of party...

"Another Day In Paradise"

The kids screaming, phone ringing
Dog barking at the mailman bringing
That stack of bills - overdue
Good morning...how are you?
Got a half hour, quick shower
Take a drink of milk but the milk's gone sour...
There goes the washing machine...
Don't kick it...
I'll fix it
Long about a million other things...
Well, it's ok. It's so nice
It's just another day in paradise

Ok, I'll confess there is a lot of sarcasm in this week's title, courtesy of Phil Vassar.  I caught some grief this past week for my nothing-but-negative review of my early days of apartment living in the big city.  I knew there'd be a trade-off, yet I was still a bit surprised.  Things are getting settled and I'm getting my bearings.

There are some positives.  I can go anywhere, anytime, to do anything; it's just a cheap tram or petit taxi ride away.  I have a lot of colleagues who live within walking distance.  My friends who lived in the city last year have been taking me to all kinds of awesome places.  There is a place about 2 blocks away owned by a Moroccan man who had lived in my home area and came back here to open a little joint...that sells Philly cheesesteaks!  I'm one of the very few Delaware Valley natives who doesn't eat them; I eat brochettes (kabobs) instead, and the price is so right!
Went to a Spanish tapas bar downtown called La Bodega; that was great, stood up well to what I've had in Madrid.  Had sushi at the cliché-named Wok-n-Roll.  All you can eat, and really good.  We've been going to brunch on the weekends in the attractive Cil (see-L) district; the "French market" next door is pricey but carries hard-to-find goodies, and the souk hidden behind shops across the street is an excellent place to get quality produce.  Boys Café Wednesday off the bus after work is a tradition I'm really liking.  I'm probably forgetting some places.  I also probably should cook more, though I have been a very good boy and (somehow) have stayed away from the justifiably famous cinnamon rolls at snack time!
There is a nearby gym that was closed for August due to Ramadan that I'm going to check out tomorrow with my friend who joined it last year.  People have been asking for pics, so this is a good time to show some of my place, its views, and the neighborhood.

First, the building, Residence Lalla Meriem:

Turn around, and you get:

Unfortunately, that is more representative of the area, though no different than any large urban area in the U.S.  I am a block away from a big road, Boulevard Ghandi.  It is the heart of this gritty but up-and-coming commercial area.  Here is a quick look:



That shot includes 2 American places, KFC and Radio Shack.  There are many very nice shops, but I am going to give a little free advertising to one maybe 200 feet away:

It's closed today and tomorrow or I'd show you a beautiful chocolate shop.  As you might glean from the sign, it sells imported Lebanese chocolate.  It is managed by a very lovely woman who is the mother of a student I work closely with.
Within 100 feet of my pad are 3 places that resemble this:

A hanoot (ha-NEWT) is a place maybe the size of your kitchen that is like an American convenience store that I is stocked to the gills with foodstuffs and sundries.  There must be thousands of them in Casa.
Wanna come up to my place?
Here is the view from my living room and bedroom, respectively:

The roof affords a 360 degree of the city:  The first one presented shows the Grand Mosque in the distance, the second shows the Twin Center in the fashionable area of downtown:

 

Finally, an artsy shot that shows off this vast city:

 



Alright then, that's it for this week; the first full week with children begins tomorrow.  Til next weekend...
 
Well, there's no place that
I'd rather be...
I wouldn't trade it for anything
And I ask the Lord every night
For just another day in paradise...
Well, it's the kids screaming. The phone ringing
Just another day
Well, it's Friday. You're late
Oh yeah, it's just another day in paradise...