Al Hoceima and Chefchaouen

Last Saturday, I finally got out of Saidia. As nice as it was to spend two weeks at the beach, I was ready for a change… So I hopped into a taxi to Nador, where I met my friend Nam, and we traveled on to the city of Al Hoceima, which was a fairly clean, seaside town (although with only one small beach in the middle of town, and several others on the outskirts). This area was devastated by an earthquake a couple of years ago, although it was the surrounding villages that suffered the most destruction.

Me in Al Hoceima:

Leaving Al Hoceima Sunday, we met up with a couple of other volunteers who were also heading to Chefchaouen. Together, we suffered the worst bus ride EVER. Now, the road between Ouarzazete and Marrakesh is notorious, but this was a whole other level – basically 6 hours of non-stop puking and wretching thanks to bouncy, winding roads (but not such sharp turns that the driver couldn’t take them at full speed anyhow). Thank God I’ll be taking a different road to get out of here!

As promised, Chefchaouen is BEAUTIFUL – a mountainside town full of Spanish flavor, with a bluewashed medina and generally chill atmosphere in spite of the number of tourists here this time of year. The night we arrived was also a part of a long, holiday weekend, so we couldn’t find a place to stay and ended up sleeping on the roof of one hotel in the medina. Many of the tourists come as much for the kif – a crop so dominant here that we have seen fields and fields of it driving into town and hiking to villages on the outskirts – as for the culture. The Berber dialect spoken here is so completely different from Tamazight that I’ve gotten no language practice, and even though, throughout Morocco, I tend for some reason to hear a little more Spanish than most volunteers (do I look it?), it is still unusual to hear so many Moroccans trying to speak Spanish to us instead of French. Strolls through the medina are quite pleasant, with not as many aggressive sales tactics (or simple attempts at extortion) as one might experience in Fez or Marrakech. So in spite of just having spent two weeks at a craft fair, I have still enjoyed browsing through the numerous craft stalls, and even having a few more in-depth conversations with a couple of local artisans. We also visited the local kasbah, which contains a pleasant garden, small ethnographic museum, contemporary art gallery, and prison cells left over from the Spanish occupation. I felt so wonderfully lost in this small space – more able to simply kick back and enjoy exploring than I usually do here when passing through places while traveling for work.

Chefchaouen medina:

I have, however, gotten one sad piece of news this week. My sitemate called me yesterday to tell me that my host family’s new baby passed away last week after battling significant respiratory problems. I am feeling pretty bad about not being home right now while they are going through this, but at the same time am not sure how much more I could actually do for them other than keeping them in my thoughts. I hope you’ll all do the same.