From Ruins to Riads in Rabat (9.29.07)

After I sat in on a repeat of the arabic lesson with the newcomers (I am serious about trying to learn some arabic!), we all piled into the bus with our cameras and comfortable shoes to start the city tour of Rabat by bus. First stop was the Royal Palace.

Morocco's independence from France was gained in 1956 with the return of King Mohammed V from exile and since then it has been a monarchy with supreme power being wielded by the king but largely governed by its parliament. Mohammed V was beloved. His son Hassan II, who reigned from 1961-1999, was apparently not particularly popular (though I bet every city has a Hassan II Blvd) though the current king, Mohammed VI, is fast becoming a country favorite. He is more of a "prince of the people" who prefers to live in his childhood home rather than moving into expansive digs at the Royal Palace, and who married a computer engineer that he met in an on-line chat room and developed a relationship with without revealing to her that he was the king. We were told that he is extremely progressive in his policies helping to expand the family code for laws relating to women's rights, and his wife is the first wife of a king ever seen in public. Previously all king's wives (and they had several), were kept sequestered in the castle away from public view.

We saw the Royal Mosque where the king and his family worship for Friday prayers, and took pictures of the Royal Guard and other sundry armed guards on duty outside the palace gates.
Next stop was the ancient Roman city of Sala Colonia and the Merinid necropolis of Chellah. UPon first glance it appears to be an abandoned outcropping of crumbling orange rock. As we walked through we learned that it was inhabited by Romans in AD40 and then was resettled in the 14th century by Abou al-Hassan. We saw his grave site as well as remains of a 14th cent. islamic school. I think my favorite part of the place (in addition to the breathtaking remains themselves) were the cats. Early on in Aziz's lecture I was distracted by a friendly little patchwork cat which I ended up picking up and carrying around with me for a while. Shortly thereafter we stopped by a tomb of an Islamic "saint" and Aziz squatted down and called "mish mish". Suddenly at least 30-40 cats appeared from behind one of the ruins and from then on we had at least 1 skinny mangy cat for the duration of our visit.

Following this tour was a trip to the Mausoleum of Mohammed V (reign 1956-1961) and Hassan II (1961-1999) and the unfinished minaret and abandoned pillars of a grand mosque planned by an Almohad sultan in 1195. A quick jaunt through the white and blue streets of the Kasbah des Oudaies, the site of the original Ribat in the 10th century, and we were ready for lunch by the seaside. We made another quick trip through Rabat's small Archeology Museum that houses artifacts from the Roman ruins in Volubilis among other sites. I ended up walking through the museum with Ria and John, a Dutch couple living in the US, and the curator of the museum who explained the various cups, bowls, and Roman statues in a mixture of broken Arabic and French that I strangely understood.

Afternoon was hot, though I attempted a run (in shorts!) but made it back just in time for our lecture/discussion with a young Rabati woman on women's issues in Morocco. We learned about the Moroccan family code which gave men the right to have 4 wives and to divorce their wives verbally and denied women the right to ask for a divorce until as recently as 2004. There are currently more women than men in Moroccan universities (all paid for by the government) and after 2004 women have the right to inherit, ask for divorce, and pursue any profession, among other things. One of the most appalling aspects of the code is that a man's word is taken at face value, but a woman must have witnesses or documented proof of physical abuse or an affair as grounds for a divorce. Most marriages are not arranged in the traditional sense of the word, but family approval is still paramount.

On this our second day together we had our welcome dinner at a wonderful restuarant tucked into one of the tiny alleys running through center city. One minute you are walking along grimy narrow lanes with yellow mud-brick walls on either side, and then next minute you turn into a wooden doorway and are in an amazing tiled courtyard with Moorish art and architecture surrounding you. Sitting rooms expand off the central atrium which is open to the stars. In this restaurant we were served in "Old Arab" style - most of the serving staff were dark-skinnedand dressed in traditional robes and headcoverings. We started the meal by having our hand washed in rose water and ended it by being sprinkled with fragrant rose and rosemary. I took several photos of the place and have decided that it is going to be the inspiration for the interior of my next home, should I ever be able to afford it.

I know this post is long, but these OAT (Overseas Adventure Travel) days are long and jam-packed and I just HAVE to write about the rest of my evening. While everyone else went to bed, my mother and I camped out in the lobby of the hotel to do some internet. The previous night in the hotel I befriended the evening clerk, Mehdi, who helped us with the internet. This evening when he got off work he asked me if I was interested in seeing the hotel's Salon de The. The Hotel le Dawliz appears to be a low-slung, sprawling affair of mostly abandoned side-ventures, including a pool hall and a disco. I was really surprised when we went out of the hotel, turned a left, headed up some stairs, and were in a nightclub/cafe busting at the seams with at least 200 people crammed into small wicker and glass furniture and enjoying a live 6-person band jamming with popular Moroccan music. All week we have mostly seen modest Moroccan women with their children or parents in the streets wearing jelabas and hijabs and keeping their distance from the men. Thus I was a little taken aback when I saw the 20-something young women in tight jeans, off-the-shoulder cropped t-shirts standing next to their tables shaking their rear ends. It was really cool and I definitely felt out of place in my tourist zip-off pants and tevas.

Mom and I finished up internet at around 1:30 am, which only gave us 5 hours of sleep in preparation for the next day's 6:30 am wake up call. So far, this touring business is going to be hard work!!!