Morocco, this mystical country full of color. The incense is sweet, the olives are cheap, and the spices are pungent. The mix of old and new clash like the green against red of the country's flag. I did not pack the right clothing for this conservative country. Luckily we live deep inside the Medina, the market with high walls that create a maze. A family's livelihood depends on the shops here. During the night they pack everything inside and latch wooden doors closed. But during the day they spill out like colorful confetti onto the street.
You can hear Islamic prayer multiple times a day, starting at 5:30 in the morning. In some countries it's the gong of the church bells that wake you up, here it is the chanting of prayer into a PA system. It echoes through the streets. When the man on the P.A. system stops, the chants of men can be heard from the mosques and rooftops all around.
Stray cats walk the streets in great numbers crying for attention or food. It breaks my heart and I want to save them all. Now I understand why Bob Barker wants to help control the pet population.
From where I am staying the ocean can be seen from the roof. A short walk there and one can surf, but only with a wetsuit as the water is cold. A rundown boardwalk lines the beach where a whole pizza can be bought for 25 durham, or $2.50 USD.
There is still much to know about this country, and I am excited to uncover some of its mysteries.