Photos

Hey CCM readers, here are some photos from the trip so far. I know you are all eagerly anticipating our next entries, we should have a few more up over the next couple of days as we are back from the no internet Sahara desert, Enjoy.

Sunset at the Koutoubia mosque in Marrakech. This is a great place for an evening stroll with the local Marrakchi's.

Dinner at the crazed Djeema el fna, there are about 100 of these stalls to eat at every night.

The Man Show

When tossing around ideas of different countries to visit I have always tended to lean away from Arab geographies. Mike has always professed a strong desire to see all of the Arab world, from Northern Africa to the Middle East whereas I prefer Asian, South American destinations and the like. There has always been something about the Arab world that has scared me a little bit....perhaps even put me off. Perhaps it was the several butt grabs that I experienced in Egypt or the way the men look at me as a Western woman. One night while sitting at our usual cafe, sipping mint tea and watching Marrakesh stroll by Mike hit the nail on the head, It's like being in The Man Show. He goes on to explain that he thinks the reason why he likes places like Morocco and Egypt so much and wants to see more of them so much more then I do is because he feels like he is a part of this special club....a club where all females are excluded. And then I look around me...I along with one other foreign lady am the only woman sitting at this cafe that is frequented and at this point full with locals. I have also noticed the way Moroccan men congregate together, like every night is a 'guy's night.' And the way men are constantly adjusting grabbing or simply just holding their genitals while out in public. There is also a serious issue of nose picking among Moroccan men. I recently sat behind a man in a mini bus who picked his nose the whole one hour ride to our destination. It was very distracting watching this man dig and roll the entire ride. Mike was constantly pointing out beautiful mountain landscapes but I was constantly being drawn back in fascinated horror to this disgusting site in front of me. In Arab countries men work together, play together; pray together and socialize together and I as a woman am forever an outsider looking in. A Woman's domain is within the home, especially outside of the modernized cities, the home is perhaps where she is most free. Mike is constantly getting hugged, grabbed and nudged by the locals, as if he was one of their friends where I could go pretty much ignored if I wanted to. My one advantage here is that I am not permitted to sit next to a local man. Once on a grande taxi ride to the Sahara sand dunes, I started to climb into the shared taxi and the man already inside motioned 'no' with his finger to me. A Grande taxi is shared by many going in the same direction and can get quite hot and uncomfortable when full which it is always as the driver does not leave until full (the Moroccan view of full is sitting pretty much atop one another) But as a woman I am guaranteed the spot next to the door and my husband. On the ride we had to pull over so that the five other men traveling with us could break their fast at sunset. They all spoke no English so spoke to us entirely in French. Mike's French is dismal at best so I carried most of the conversation in broken French while we all shared a communal feast of dates, bread and apples. We all piled back into the taxi and continued our drive in the dark and for that one moment I felt like I had made it into The Man Show.