Yesterday, the day we arrived in Morocco, was the 27th day of Ramadan – AKA the Night of Power.  When we were leaving the airport, Ben mentioned stopping to see his dad, who died of a stroke in 2003.  I don’t remember visiting the cemetery immediately upon arrival any of the other times we have come to Morocco, so I wasn’t sure what was up but I was in a separate car so off we went.  I loved Ben’s father (and mother), so of course I was fine with going for a visit, whatever that entailed.

When we got to Mohammedia I noticed a large gathering of people and a lot of stalls selling things.  I asked Mustafa (my brother-in-law) whether it was a souk (market) and he said it was.  We pulled over and I thought maybe we needed to buy something – I spend a lot of time in Morocco wondering what is going on and what is being said, so this was nothing new.  Most of the time I enjoy the adventure.

Ben came to the car and told me it was time to go see his father – the “souk” was at the cemetery.  I have since learned that on the 27th day of Ramadan people go to the cemetery to visit their loved ones – kind of like Day of the Dead in Mexico.  They clean the graves, pray, and spend a few minutes remembering their family members. 

I wish I could have taken some photos (partly because one of Ben’s sisters was carrying a giant green umbrella from an umbrella table), but it seemed disrespectful.  Plus I already stuck out like a sore thumb in my 2-day-old t-shirt and capris, without whipping out a camera.  There were hundreds (thousands?) of people in and around the cemetery.  Inside, there were families visiting graves, boys who would collect a few dirhams to clean the grave or paint it, and a man who would recite the Koran (also for a few dirhams).  At the entrance there were people asking for money or food.

Outside there were boys selling bottles of orange flower water to sprinkle on the graves, and sprigs of some green plant that I can’t figure out the English word for, which can be planted on the graves.  In the area surrounding the cemetery there were TONS of stalls selling everything from fruit to kitchen supplies to underwear.  It struck me as being a carnival atmosphere, and I heard Ben’s sister say “moussem” which is like the Moroccan version of a carnival.  There were no rides or games so maybe it was more like an exuberant flea market.

This is one of my favorite things about Morocco – the unexpected surprises you encounter at every turn.

Here is a different cemetery on a different day…imagine this with people everywhere, a giant green umbrella, and one stinky American looking confused.

One of the greatest benefits of my job is that I can work from any location that has internet access.  It’s more trouble than it’s worth to try to turn off my computer completely and take a vacation, so for quite a few years I have gone away for about a month in the summer and worked remotely part-time.  It’s a great compromise…I still get a lot done but we get to spend time visiting family and/or experiencing another culture.  This summer we’re with our family in Morocco, and spending a few days in Madrid on the way home.

This year is a little different because three other families are joining us on the trip, so I’ve spent more time on the logistics than I usually would.  Our itinerary is pretty well set once they arrive, but for now we are spending the last few days of Ramadan relaxing, catching up on work and sleep, and awaiting l’Eid (the holiday at the end of Ramadan).

We usually fly directly from JFK to Casablanca, but because of the side-trip to Madrid we flew from JFK to Madrid to Casablanca on Iberia.  It was less expensive to drive than fly from home to JFK, so we got a 1-way rental ($137 including mileage, plus $40 for gas) and drove to the airport.  I was very happy that we didn’t have stuff strapped to the roof like we did on our last trip.

We almost left on time…Ben realized at the last minute that he had lost his pedometer and spent forever looking for it.  He is addicted to measuring his steps and uploading to a website that tracks his activity.  He finally gave up on it and we left the house at 10 a.m.  The trip was uneventful until we got to the southernmost part of Connecticut, where I started seeing flashing signs for a 9-mile backup ahead.  Ben was supposed to be monitoring the traffic and I kept asking if I should get off the highway and try to navigate around it.  He kept saying “no”, but finally I made an executive decision and bailed.  It took us a while traveling on the secondary roads, but at least we weren’t sitting still.

It took us about 4 1/2 hours to get to the airport including a stop for gas, and another hour to drop off the car, check our bags, and get through security.  Iberia had moved Adlani and Norah from Row 11 to Row 35, so it took a little extra time to get our seats reassigned.  None of our bags were over the weight limit (which was a small victory for me because I hate when people reorganize their bags at check-in), but several of them were a few kilos under the maximum which Ben sees as a total waste.  If he had realized it before we left home, he would have thrown in everything but the kitchen sink to get the weight to the limit.

After one last trip to Starbucks we got on the plane.  We had one seat in the next row back from the other four, but it ended up with an empty seat next to it which Norah promptly claimed.  The boarding was so orderly and the overhead bins were only about 2/3 full…I commented to Ben that it was obvious we weren’t on a Morocco-bound flight.  The same rule about taking as much as possible applies to carry-on luggage too.

It was about a 7-hour flight from 5 p.m. until midnight our time, so we didn’t sleep much (Norah slept for a few hours).  They served dinner, which was actually delicious, and also breakfast.

When we landed in Madrid it was 6 a.m. and it was broad daylight.  I thought we would be zombies for the 4-hour layover since it was midnight to 4 a.m. in our brains, but we were all fine.  We charged up our electronics, wandered around, chatted with some other travelers, and had one more last trip to Starbucks.

I love my new compression socks!!

When it was time to fly to Casablanca, we were bussed from the gate to the plane, and stairs were set up at the front and back entrances to the plane.  People were boarding from both ends and trying to pass each other in the aisle – NOW we’re going to Morocco!  The overheads were jam-packed, people were still switching seats as the plane was taxiing out to the runway, there were lots of crying babies, and the sodas cost 2.50 Euros each.  Luckily, it was a quick 2-hour flight.

We had no trouble going through Immigration in Casablanca, other than when Ben wanted to get in the line marked “Crew” and I wouldn’t do it.  I’m on African time now…who cares if it takes a little longer to follow the rules?  All of our luggage arrived and we were waved through Customs without any questions or examination of bags.  I wish I had taken a photo as we came through the doors into the terminal, because there were literally more than 100 people waiting with anticipation for their loved ones.  Each time the door opened, they got excited again.

We found our family easily and had an uneventful 1-hour ride home (except for a detour to the cemetery which I will write about later).  A beautiful lunch was ready for us, and then we all passed out.  I slept for 5 hours and woke up in time to break the fast with 0ur family at 8:30 p.m.  I couldn’t get to sleep until 4 a.m. local time, so I got lots of work caught up.  I woke up at 11:30 a.m…gotta work on changing my clock.

It’s time to ramp up the Morocco preparations…we leave one week from tomorrow!  In case you’re just tuning in, 12 of our friends will be joining us for a portion of our trip.  To help prepare our fellow travelers for the time we’ll spend at our home in Mohammedia, here are our Moroccan family members:

Atika (Ben’s sister), her husband Mustafa (a chef), and their son Amin (now 13):

Amina (Ben’s sister – she has one son – Hichem – who is in the US) and her husband Aziz (he speaks some English – yay!):

Malika (Ben’s sister) and her daughter Majda (who won’t be in Morocco with us):

Malika’s younger daughter Ibtissam (I think she is 18 or 19) on the right, Ben’s brother Hassan in the middle, and our niece Racha (who lives in Holland and will not be in Morocco) on the left:

Naima (Ben’s cousin who helps with the cooking) on the left with her daughter, Rachida (Ben’s aunt in the pink scarf), Bahija (Ben’s sister, Racha’s mother, who lives in Holland and won’t be with us in Morocco), and Auntie Aiesha on the right:

Auntie Aiesha’s son Kamal (right) with Amin (left):

There will be other extended family members in and out, and I’m sure there will be someone else to help with the cooking, but you can meet them later.

Also – I ran across this blog post that has some photos of the house we’ll be staying in.  The room with the red dots on the sofa is the girls’ sleeping area.  The wavy-striped couches are in the boys’ sleeping area.  The room with the pink walls and the couches has been transformed into a bedroom for Ben and I (and Elizabeth and I when I kick Ben out).  The room that looks like a kitchen will be snack storage and the tooth-brushing/primping room to avoid bathroom tie-ups (they use a different kitchen for cooking).  The bathrooms are small but as you can see there is a regular toilet (sorry Nic).  The room with the pink walls and the bed is for the Jobins.  The area with the laundry is the roof which is used for multiple purposes.  The silver box in the corner is an oven, and you can see Uncle Abdullah reclining (I think this was when he got stung in the mouth by a wasp).  I didn’t take photos of the other floor where the Yarmolessems will be residing, but it does exist!

Here’s a post about Jemaa el Fnaa including the camels and monkeys.

Here’s one about the European market, including the jars of fat we’ve been discussing.

And here’s one about the weekly souk (market).

Let me know what else you’d like to see/read more about.  I have other blog posts on Morocco (including this one that shows the guy who makes ouarka with his bare hands and the metal-polishing guy).

It’s almost time to GOOOOOOOOO!!!