Morocco Mania Day 1: Casablanca, Rabat, Meknes, Volubilis & Moulay Idriss

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As-salamu alaykum from Morocco! The adventure has officially begun. In fact, it started on the plane ride to Casablanca. During our flight, 2 things happened. First, I started reading “The Cadogan Guide to Morocco” by Barnaby Rogerson. This guide has a bit more color than usual guides. For instance, Mr. Rogerson says the following about sexual attitudes in Morocco, “Moroccans also tend to think of themselves as immeasurably more virile & potent than Western men. However chaste your intentions, why not pack some condoms beside the sun cream and romantic fiction?” Really, Barnaby? Stop it. Second, I noticed 2 young men taking pictures with an older gentleman who had just come out of the bathroom. I guess he is famous…kind of looks like the Dos Equis man. But I wasn’t sure and didn’t want to ask less the young men wanted to borrow my romantic fiction. And, it would be my luck that if I took a picture with this “celebrity”, he’d end up being the Moroccan Ron Jeremy.

My Mom and I are doing an 8 day tour through the Imperial cities of Morocco. I customized the trip thru Journey Beyond Travel (I will provide a detail review and rating of their services after the trip ends…but so far, it’s been a fabulous experience). The typical Morocco tour packages last a minimum of 10 days. But, I like to do “taster tours” of new places/countries before I commit a long period of time to touring. JBT and I crammed a lot of stuff into 8 days. Our first day consists of a stick-and-move approach to Casablanca, Rabat, Meknes, Volubilis and Moulay Idriss. I will tell you now that this is not for the faint of heart. It’s a very long day (11 hours from the time we left the airport).

Casablanca

Our driver, El Haj (known as Haji) is waiting for us at the airport to drive us around Morocco for 8 magnificent days. The Casablanca airport is an experience…and a test of patience. Allow at least a couple of hours to get your bags and clear customs. Also be aware that people will try to “help” you with your bags (even if you are at the car…they will just want to put the bag into the trunk) for a tip. Do not allow this to happen if you don’t have any Dirhams. Trust me. They will demand that you provide them with some money…to the point of getting belligerent. Either politely decline their help up front or be prepared to pay 10-20 Dirham for their assistance.

If you are itching to quote Humphrey Bogart and say, “Here’s looking at you, kid.”…do it while taking the first road out of town. Otherwise, it’s not a city you want to dwell in. Casablanca is gritty. I’d describe it as a mixture of Cairo & Mexico City. It’s Morocco’s biggest city with a population of over 3 million people. In my opinion, the only thing worth seeing in this city is the Hassan II Mosque.

The Hassan II Mosque (named after King Hassan II) is the second largest mosque in the world (St. Peter’s Basilica can easily fit inside) and built partially on water. The largest mosque is in Mecca. It has the highest religious minaret in the world at 200 meters high. The mosque will fit up to 25,000 worshippers inside and another 80,000 in the courtyard. It is magnificent! This is also one of the very few mosques open for non-Muslims to visit. When you enter the mosque, you are given a plastic bag to store your shoes (as you are required to walk barefoot while visiting). As I stated above, the mosque is enormous with beautiful chandeliers and mosaics. In the center, you will see a glass floor that reveals the ocean below which is said to be a reminder of the Koran’s statement that God’s throne is upon the water. In the basement is an ablution room (where you cleanse yourself of your sins) and an absolutely beautiful hammam with a large pool.

Hassan II Mosque hammam

The ablution hall has 41 fountains

prayer hall

Rabat

After leaving the mosque, Haji drives us to Rabat which is about 2.5 hours from Casablanca. Rabat is the capital of Morocco. We only spent 30 minutes here. Just enough time to visit the Mohammed V Mausoleum which houses the bodies of King Mohammed V and his sons King Hassan II and Moulay Abdellah.

Rabat mosque and library

Bab Mansour

Meknes

Next stop…Meknes. A popular day trip from Fes, this city is home to the many creations of Moulay Ismail. The most popular one is called Bab Mansour…which is a great gate. Its name comes from its architect (who was a Christian that converted to Islam). The local story is that the sultan inspected the completed gate, then asked El Mansour whether he could do any better. Which is a Catch 22 because when he answered “yes”, he was immediately executed (source, The Rough Guide to Morocco).

Sultan Moulay Ismail had great achievements (conquering territories within Morocco so that they were all under government control for the first time in 5 centuries). However, he was also known as tyrannical and basically blood thirsty. He began his reign by displaying 400 heads (mostly captured chiefs) in Fes. Over the 5 decades he ruled, it is estimated that he was responsible for over 30,000 deaths (not including those killed in battle). He was known to kill indiscriminately in order to keep his subjects on their toes.

Moulay Idriss

If only Idris Elba were here. We didn’t really stop…just cruised right thru the town.

Volubilis

More Roman ruins. Seriously. If you have been to Italy…or really anyplace in Europe, you’ve seen ruins. These are no different. Volubilis was once the Roman Empire’s most remote base. Roman rule lasted just over 2 centuries. Most Roman cities follow the same layout (streets with stores & cafes, huge homes for the rich and brothels). Volubilis is probably most well-known for being the key location for Martin Scorsese’s film “The Last Temptation of Christ.”

As we were on the tour, the guide was telling us about the brothels. I started to tune out because it was hot and I was thirsty. Next thing I know, the guide asked me if I wanted to see the “pennies.” I thought he had moved on to telling us about currency. It was hard for me to understand his accent at times. So, I said, “sure.” Next thing I know, he has led me over to see this:

It was at that moment that I realized he had said, “penis”…not pennies. The best Roman ruins is in Pompeii. If you have been there, I would suggest you skip Volubilis.

Overall, the day was filled with a good mix of the highlights of Casablanca, Rabat, Meknes, Volubilis and Moulay Idriss. If I had to do it again, I’d probably spend more time in Rabat and skip Volubilis, Moulay Idriss and Meknes all together. Have you been to these cities? If so, what did I miss that is a definite “must see”?

Nikki’s Notes: Project Effie

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Sigh.  I don’t think the Executive Assistant of my group likes me.  I know.  Who can’t like me?  Apparently Linda.  I can’t stand when people don’t like me (except if it’s my nemises…he can suck it).  It all started last week.  I got promoted to a new position within a business segment which meant I had to move to a new floor.  That move required leaving my wonderful office and relocating to a cube.  A CUBICLE!  Where I have to use keys to lock desk drawers before Burglar Billy comes to steal my purse because I don’t have a door.  I now suffer from OSA…Office Separation Anxiety.  But, I am trying to work thru it.  So, last week, I am trying to sneak out of my cube and go to the gym so I can stop looking like the light-skinned Precious.  But, before I can make it to the door, someone needs something so I go back to my desk and lay my keys down.  I am not quite sure what happened next.  OSA causes temporary memory loss.  

After I finish responding to emails (3 hours later), it’s time to leave the “office” for the day.  So, I try to open the desk drawer (assuming that’s where I put my keys) and it’s locked.  Instantly, I thought “BILLY GOT ME!”  I looked everywhere around my small cube.  It takes me 3 minutes.  *sobs*  I try opening the desk drawer again and it’s not budging.  Now, I’m sounding the alarms and freaking out.  I just knew I would get robbed being out in the element (that’s what I call cube living).  I go to see Linda (and interrupt her gossip session) to let her know that I had been ROBBED!  How am I supposed to get home?  Has someone stolen my car from the parking garage?  What is going on?  She checks to see if someone sent an email to her saying they had my keys.  I knew Billy wasn’t going to do that.  Billy was driving my car down I-75 screaming out “GOTCHA CUBER!” 

I leave her and go see Security.  That’s right.  I talk to our Director of Security.  He’s former FBI and I am asking him to put together a profile on Billy.  What motivates him to steal from cubes?  Maybe they need to dust for prints?  Check surveillance tapes…do we have those?  He looks at me…and I look right back at him asking if he needs to take notes or just plans on remembering all the information I’m giving him.  OSA is serious, y’all…it has PTSD symptoms.  I’ve got the folks in Security calling down to the front guard and checking on my car.  Then, I head back upstairs to wait on the maintenance man from Facilities (who Linda had called).  This was back when Linda liked me…before “it” happened.  She was so concerned.  I mean, I had no keys and my car had been jacked. 

I’m on the phone with a friend arranging transportation home when Leroy the Maintenance Guy shows up.  As I am pouring out my woes of being a victim of a cube Ponzi scheme, Leroy takes his keys and opens my desk drawer…and there were my keys.  Leroy and Linda both look at me like I’m a child that tells stories for attention.  I’m like, “Leroy, you just unlocked that drawer so you know it was locked.”  He just rolled his eyes.  You know what, Leroy?  Crabs in a barrel, buddy.

At this point, Linda has sighed and walked away…disappointed.  I send her an email to apologize and she’s like, “okay.”  DON’T BE THAT WAY, LINDA!  HOW DID I KNOW?  BILLY IS A FREAKING MAGICIAN (I haven’t given up on my Billy the Burglar accusation).  I just can’t break thru the ice wall Linda has erected.  She treats me like Celie did Mister.  If there are treats in the break room, she will tell my neighbor and look at me like, “STARVE MADEA!”  When I asked for her help in ordering new business cards…she told me to go on the internet in a voice that made me think she feels I am special needs.  I can’t stand it.

So, now I have come up with Project Effie.  You know Effie…from Dreamgirls?  Jennifer Holiday/Hudson’s character?  Looks like I’m gonna have to make my famous gorilla bread, bring in a boombox and start singing, “And I am telling you…I’m not going…AND YOU, AND YOU, AND YOU….YOU’RE GONNA LOVE ME, LINDA!”  If that doesn’t work, I will start on Project Obi Wan Kenobi…Jedi mind tricks always work.  Ha!

Race Series: Firefly Illuminated 5K Night Run

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sourced from Firefly websiteWant to run with glow sticks and covered in LED lights?  Check out the Firefly Illuminated 5K/10K Night Run.   Currently, this race is offered in Atlanta, Houston, Dallas, Phoenix, Denver, Chicago and San Jose.  But keep checking the website as they may add new cities.

Atlanta only offered the 5K run starting & finishing at Piedmont Park.  There were about 4 hills so the run was actually a little tough!  I didn’t die of water cancer or think about pushing a kid off a scooter so all in all, I’d say it’s a win 🙂

I formed a team named The Glitterati.  We had an awesome time!  There was plenty of music, bananas, water and great people!  Between the neon glowing wigs to lighted fairy wings, there was a bit of everything.  Running inspires camaraderie and it’s amazing how you will strike up a conversation with complete strangers over the common theme of racing.

Want more information on what to expect?  Check out the video below!

So if you are looking for a great night race to try, check out the Firefly Illuminated 5K/10K Night Run.  You will have a BLAST!

Team Glitterati

race swag

Now, I’m looking for my next race.  What do you recommend?  What’s your favorite race(s)?

Nikki’s Nest: Riad Laaroussa (Fez, Morocco)

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Warrior Dash 414Planning a trip to the fascinating imperial city of Fez?  I recommend staying at the Riad Laaroussa which is located inside the Medina.  This 17th century palace is a welcome retreat of peace after spending the day exploring the chaotic Medina.  My Mom and I had the pleasure of spending 3 lovely days at this riad in September 2012.

What’s a Riad?

Historically, it is a traditional Moroccan home with an open garden or courtyard.  However, now most function as hotels/resorts.  Riads are more inward focused.  You won’t see large exterior windows.  In fact, the exterior is plain and you are unable to tell if the home is upper or lower class.  There are clay walls with a huge (and in some cases, ornate) door.  Once you enter thru the massive door, you will be amazed at how lovely the interior is.  Beautiful tiles & mosaics, water fountains, lush fabrics…riads provide you with the opulence of a grand mansion combined with a cozy atmosphere.  These lovely “homes” only have a small number of rooms (i.e. 5-10).  Riads provide you with a unique Moroccan experience that you won’t get staying in a hotel.

Getting There

Riad Laaroussa will arrange for a taxi from the airport, train station, or other cities at your request.  Your taxi will drop you off just outside one of the gates to the Medina.  The streets are very narrow inside the Medina so no cars are allowed…only push carts, donkeys & mules.  They will also arrange for a luggage porter (who will have a wooden cart) to greet you at the gate and lead you to the riad which is just a few minutes walk away.  My advice…do not try to find the riad on your own.  The Medina has over 9,000 streets and this riad is located off a side street from another side street.  A 20 Dirham (which is approximately $2 USD) tip to a luggage porter is money well spent.  Plus, this will allow you to take in the sights and sounds of the Medina while walking to your destination.

Promotions

You can book directly via the website or go thru a 3rd party discount booking agency (i.e. Booking.com).

The Courtyard

This riad surrounds a breathtaking courtyard that has 2 water fountains and beautiful landscaping. There are open lounge/sitting areas surrounding the courtyard.  Each area makes you feel comfortable and relaxed.  Tables surround the courtyard so you are able to eat breakfast or dinner in a lush environment.

The courtyard is also where you will find 3 of the Riad Laaroussa inhabitants.  Mimi the Cat and her 2 canine companions are extremely friendly (and very lazy).  If you are an animal lover, you won’t want to leave them at the end of your stay.  Typically, Mimi & crew are waiting to greet you as you enter the courtyard and hang around long enough for belly rubs before dinner (and will stick around during dinner just in case you are feeling charitable & want to share).  As you can see from the pictures below, they aren’t missing any meals 🙂

Rooms & Suites

There are 8 rooms (4 rooms & 4 suites) at the Riad Laaroussa.  Each room has a theme color (we stayed in the Orange Suite).  Be sure to check out the pictures on the riad website (linked above) or tripadvisor.com as each suite is different.  Upon arrival, we were taken to our room and given time to relax before heading up to dinner.  Words really can’t describe how wonderful this place is so I created a video.  My videography skills aren’t that great (this is my first one) but I hope it captures how fabulous this place is.

Dining

The chef at the Riad Laaroussa is PHENOMENAL!  You can dine in the courtyard or on the terrace (which is up several sets of very steep stairs).  The riad provides a bountiful breakfast of fruits & pastries (you can request eggs as well) and a daily set menu.  Want to learn how to cook the fabulous Fassi cuisine?  Join the chef on her daily trip to the market and spend an afternoon in the kitchen watching her create delicious dishes for the evening.   Make sure you are camera ready as the staff will stop by your table to take pictures then email them to you so you have a keepsake of your time in Fez.

Mom and I at breakfast

Moroccan appetizers

The Hammam & Spa

What better way to unwind from a day of sightseeing than to enjoy the Riad Laaroussa’s hammam & spa?  The massage is fab-u-lous!  You pick between a couple of fragrant oils (my choices were “orange flower” and “jasmine”).  Those magical hands lulled me right into a light nap.  Want to know more about what to expect when visiting a hammam?  Check out my Tale of 2 Hammams post.

Overall

If you are looking for the perfect place to unwind and relax during your visit to Fez, this is the place.  Have insightful conversations over mint tea while learning about Moroccan culture from the locals.  I must warn you that this riad is not suitable to those who are wheelchair bound or have mobility issues due to the amount of stairs.  Other than that, this place is perfect.  Centrally located with delicious food and an absolutely phenomenal staff, the Riad Laaroussa is a wonderful place to stay during your exotic trip to Fez.  So forget using hotel chain rewards points and enjoy the unique experience of staying in a riad!

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Nikki’s Rating:  Absolutely Wonderful 5

Rating Scale 1-5 (1 = GET OUT NOW; 2 = Seriously?; 3 = Eh, it’ll do; 4 = Fabulous; 5 = Absolutely Wonderful)

Travelin’ Mr./Mrs. Daisy

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This post is intended to help you learn how to travel with your parents.  Once your parents are eligible for social security, something happens.  I don’t know what it is.  But trust me.  Here are some handy dandy tips to make your family travel experience smoother.

1.  Guidebook Dilemma

Most of us use guidebooks to prepare and use for travel.  It makes sense to follow the advice of someone who has been there, done that.  Unless you are my Dad.  I swear by Rick Steves.  His guidebooks have always provided me with helpful tips.  However, a map (usually hand drawn in the books) was off/unclear during our trip to Rome.  Which meant that Rick can’t be trusted to tell you the time of day.  Sorry, Rick.  You had your chance.  No second chances with Mr. Daisy.  My Dad acts like he suffers from Rick Steves PTSD.  When I suggest some international destination to visit, his response is, “Did Steve Bob’s recommend that?”  Because he is not going to get Rick’s name right.  That’s what happens when you have 2 first names & you mess up directions.

My Mom, however, has to find every book related to the country we plan to visit.  I usually stick with the big 3:  Rick Steves, Lonely Planet or Eyewitness Travels.  She found The Cadogan Guide to Morocco by Barnaby Rogerson on Amazon.  This guide has a bit more color than usual guides. For instance, Mr. Rogerson says the following about sexual attitudes in Morocco, “”Moroccans also tend to think of themselves as immeasurably more virile & potent than Western men. However chaste your intentions, why not pack some condoms beside the sun cream and romantic fiction?” Really, Barnaby? Now I have to put an “elderly lock” on my Mom’s laptop.

Do yourself a favor and just handle all the travel and prep.  Monitor their internet & tv usage because this can lead to trouble.  Retired people find time to explore & become scholars based on the latest gossip from “Spacebook”.  My Dad has become an international travel expert based solely on 60 Minutes reports from Mike Wallace that aired 15 years ago.  It doesn’t matter if you have been there and he hasn’t.  You don’t know the real deal.  Don’t become a victim.  You will only get confused trying to wade thru their attempt at using hip jargon.  My Dad can’t grasp the concept of BFFs.  He keeps saying BSFF…like it’s Best Super Friends Forever.  I don’t know.  See how I just got sucked into that?

Only 8 kilometers? Whatchu talkin' bout, Willis? That should say 12!

The look they give you when you suggest something “exotic”.

2.  You’re Taking Me Where?

Not all elderly parents (and by elderly, I mean anybody older than you) can handle “exotic” trips to Miami.  I blame Mike Wallace.  My Dad isn’t into traveling to Africa and Italy was full of too many basilicas.  When I suggested London, I was met with “I don’t want to look at butter teeth.”  I tried to explain that their dental care has improved since the 1800’s but Mike can’t verify that since he passed away.  I then attempted to talk my Dad into going on a safari.  His response?  “I haven’t lost anything in Africa.”  See a pattern?  Don’t try to force it, kids.  Let your parents go on a jazz cruise where they can fall asleep on the Lido Deck after slurping down a 189 ounce daiquiri while listening to the sleepy time music of Brian Culbertson.

Now, if you happen to have an adventurous parent, keep it in perspective.  Your type of adventure isn’t theirs.  There will be no backpacking or taking public transportation.  Understand that now.  You can’t make your mother walk 3 blocks after she spent 202 hours in labor with you 40 years ago.  You are still paying on that.  It’s like labor layaway.  Ease them into the adventure.  Morgan Freeman didn’t tell Miss Daisy to take MARTA.  He made sure she was comfortable and that her needs were attended to.

3.  Once, Twice, Three Times Too Much

Some parents like to overpack.  You know how you grew up hearing, “You can’t ever be too prepared”?  That is a lie.  You can be too prepared.  Don’t fall for that.  And, the older they get, the more “prepared” they get.  During one trip, the guidebook said we should plan to bring toilet tissue as some bathrooms may not have any.  I bought a 24 pack of Tush Wipes and told my Mom not to worry about that.  So why did she show up with 3 rolls of toilet paper?  I don’t know.  Apparently, 24 wipes + 3 rolls of Quilted Northern seemed like the right amount for a 12 day trip for 2 people.  Don’t let your parents take a Sam’s Club approach to packing.  You’ll be the one hauling it around.  Remember, labor layaway.  Some things you can’t get around.  Do you remember Titanic when Rose came on the ship at the beginning of the movie and had 44 trunks and 132 picture frames?  That is what you are battling against.  Don’t let your Mom bring every item from Magellans…or your Dad bring his tool belt because you never know when something will need to be fixed.  Have an intervention if you need to.  Because if you don’t, Delta will.

4.  Picture Time

I took a travel photography class to learn how to capture creative images that don’t look like Honey Boo Boo took them.  This requires setting up your shot…which means you must have patience.  Especially for someone new at it.  I’ve got some news for you.  Elderly parents aren’t patient.  They don’t have time to wait on you to set up a shot.  Take the picture as you are walking.  Who cares if it is blurry.  That’s your fault.  Practice walking and clicking.

The deluxe “ghetto”

5.  25 Star Hotels

Elderly parents have a Kanye West mindset to travel.  Which means that 5 star hotels may not be enough.  Ask yourself this question…Would Oprah stay there?  If you are not 100% certain, then find someplace else.  Yeah, you might have to sell yourself on the streets but that’s what happens.  Labor Layaway.  That’s the Big Joker to any argument you may have.  Parents will always win.  You can’t make your Mom stay someplace that is 4 stars after you ripped her open and then refused to sleep thru the night for weeks.

For example, my Mom and I did the 5 star hotel option for our recent trip to Morocco.  Which included an upgrade to a deluxe tent in the Sahara Desert.  The tent had 2 twin beds (complete with mattresses on frames), bathroom (which included a shower) and sitting room.  But, it is a tent…in the Sahara.  My Mom was like, “What is this?”  I don’t know if she thought there was a Ritz Carlton – Sahara or what.  Now, in my mind, I had already prepared myself for the fact that I would encounter a bug or 2.  I already had my Avon Skin So Soft and Off (courtesy of my Mom).  The operators had the nerve to shut the power off at night so my Mom couldn’t keep the lights on for fear that bats would swoop in, turn into Dracula, and bite us.  What would happen if we turned into vampires?  We didn’t have any True Blood in our emergency preparedness kit (there wasn’t enough space with all the toilet paper).  Around 1am, I awake to my Mom screaming about scorpions.  She’s got her flashlight on and pointed towards her face like it’s the Moroccan Blair Witch Project.  I’m trying to figure out what is going on.  I mean, I know she isn’t serious.  I must be dreaming this.  Did my mint tea have another type of herb in it?  I’m confused.  At this point, she has moved into my twin bed and made the proclamation that she will NEVER sleep in that bed again because there is a scorpion the size of a “cow” in it.  But, before I could find Bessie the Scorpion and lead her out of the tent, my Mom wanted me to see if her arm was swelling.  Sigh.  After confirming that there was no swelling, I check the bed and can’t find the Velociraptor-sized scorpion.  I did see a big cockroach though.  Lest you think we are going to sleep peacefully together in a small twin bed, I’ve got news for you…we are not.  Labor layaway requires counseling sessions as well.  And, my Mom had to question why there was no actual door on the tent.  You read that right.  And, I’m sure that will go into the survey feedback she is working on right now.  See, as you get older, things don’t have to make sense.  A tent in the Sahara to young people means just that.  But to older people?  It means a cottage with a fireplace, butler and an exterminator on speed dial.

I’m pretty sure it was the Scorpion King who came into the tent.

6.  Hustled

Hustlers target older people because it’s easy.  Older people don’t like to be hassled and would prefer to pay you 110% more than you deserve just to get you to leave them alone.  Younger people?  We will protest on basic principle.  If the guidebook says that you should tip $2 to a porter for getting your bags out of the car, you can best believe that that is what you are going to get if there is nothing exceptional about the service.  Are they pushing the luggage up a hill?  Okay, they get extra.  But to take my luggage that I lugged all the way thru the airport and just move it from my hand to the trunk?  TWO DOLLARS, buddy.  But, this philosophy can only work when you aren’t traveling with older parents.  Just pay the man.  I don’t care that you had to ask your guide to go to Lowes – Marrakesh to find a storm door for the tent.  Make it rain.

7.  Trying Something New

Not all parents will try something new.  My Mom is really good about being open to certain things.  But, my Dad?  Forget it.  Here are some examples of new things I tried to expose him to:

Me:  Hi Dad, I brought you some boisenberry jam back from London!  Try it.

Dad: *puts the jam on a biscuit…then spits it out*  This is the nastiest stuff I’ve ever tasted in my life.  Do me a favor and don’t ever bring me back anything to eat.  This must be why they have yellow teeth that look like they’ve been chewing on rocks.

——————–

Me:  I went to a public hammam in Morocco.  It was a surreal experience.  You should try it!

Dad:  I don’t need my booty scrubbed.

——————-

Mom:  I learned how to make chocolate molten lava cake at a Pastry & Desserts class in Paris.  What do you think?

Dad:  This doesn’t have anything on Chili’s chocolate lava cake.  Where is the chocolate sauce?  Why isn’t caramel drizzled over it?  You don’t have any Breyer’s ice cream to go with this?  Paris seems awful plain to me.

I’m sure that my Dad is finding a cooking class at the local Chili’s right now.  That will be his Christmas gift for my mother.  Bottom line, if you are traveling with elderly parents (or just folks that are older and like to go on Robin Leach-style vacations), do yourself a favor and take my advice above.  Need further convincing, read my post from Las Vegas.  Last tip for you?  Pack a flask and your favorite spirits.  You’ll need their guidance 🙂

A Christian Among Muslims

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I had the pleasure of spending 8 days in the Muslim country of Morocco.  To be honest, I was a bit nervous after reading the warnings in the guidebooks.  I was aware of a bombing of a tourist cafe in Jamaa el-Fnaa square in Marrakesh in April 2011 as well as a general anti-American sentiment from people who had visited the country in the early to mid-2000’s.  However, I was assured by the local travel agency I used that it was completely safe for Americans to visit.  And, I am so glad that I did.

I’ve traveled to many countries and, on the whole, Moroccans have been the kindest and most generous people I have met.  The people I met treated me as a family member as it is a very family oriented society.  When an old friend passes by, Moroccans don’t just say “hi”…they take time to ask about the individual’s health, family, job, etc.  They also greet each other as “brother” or “sister”.  In addition to treating each other (and people they don’t know) warmly, they gave money to the disabled and elderly, and they made religion their priority.  Everything revolves around Allah.  You will hear a call to prayer over loudspeakers five times a day.

During my visit, I had some great conversations about religion.  I wanted to understand the basics of Islam as well as the culture.  I am a Christian and being American, I’ve heard a lot of “anti-Muslim” rhetoric since 9/11.  Quite honestly, I get tired of people and certain media demonizing an entire religion based upon the actions of extremists.  As my late grandmother used to say, “not everybody who goes to church is a Christian.”  Every religion has its own sect of crazies.  Westboro Baptist does not represent me or my beliefs.  Yet, they call themselves “Christians.”  Hitler saw himself as Christian.  And, I am sure the Catholic priests who molested little boys see themselves as Christians too.  Just as al-Qaeda sees themselves as Muslims. 

Claiming a religion doesn’t automatically make you the representative of it.  Everybody has their own set of beliefs…whether they believe in a form of religion or not.  But, all of us have a belief system.  Whether we worship God, Allah, Buddha…or a set of gods…or none at all.  The bottom line, I feel, is that we should be able to respect those that are different from us. 

In speaking with some Muslims in Morocco, I was able to learn the following about the differences in our religions:

1.  They regard Jesus as a respected prophet, not God. I think this is the biggest difference.  That’s the essence of the message of Islam…which is to call upon people to worship the one God of Abraham, Isaac, Moses, Jesus, etc.

2.  They don’t believe in the original sin.  I’m told that the Quran mentions the story of Adam, Eve and the apple but places the blame on Adam and Eve equally, then forgave them. Thus, Jesus didn’t die on a cross nor did He die for anyones sins (since we are born sinless). He was raised to heaven and will return before the end of times.

3.  They are accountable for their actions. On the day of judgment, their deeds will be weighed.  Belief alone does not guarantee them Heaven. Their good actions have to outweigh their bad actions. These deeds could be anything from praying to God to serving for a better humanity.

Islam has 5 pillars that every Muslim must practice:

1.  Shahadah = the declaration that there is none worthy of worship except Allah and that Muhammad is his messenger.

2.  Prayer (Salat) = establishing of the five daily Prayers.

3.  The paying of alms (Zakat) = which is generally 2.5% of the total savings for a rich man working in trade or industry, and 10% or 20% of the annual produce for agriculturists. This money or produce is distributed among the poor.

4.  Fasting (Sawm) = refraining from eating, drinking or satisfying other needs from dawn to dusk in the month of Ramadan, the ninth month in the Islamic lunar calendar (usually around August/September).

5.  The Pilgrimage to Mecca (Hajj) = this is done during the month of Zul Hijjah, and is compulsory once in a lifetime for one who has the ability to do it. If the Muslim is in ill-health or in debt, he or she is not required to perform Hajj.

While there are differences (mainly that Christians recognize God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit), there are some similarities (we fast from time to time, pay tithes, help the less fortunate and pray).  I’m not saying that one religion is better than the other.  I am a Christian.  However, my grandmother is a Jehovah’s Witness.  I’ve had to learn from an early age to figure out differences and make a decision on what I believe is true.  Just because I don’t agree with the tenets of certain religions doesn’t mean I should disrespect them.  As long as our rights and person aren’t infringed upon, we should be able to live in peace.

The terrorists from 9/11 and from the recent U.S. embassy attacks are horrible people.  And so was Queen Mary (also known as Bloody Mary) who burned Protestants on the stake for refusing to convert to Catholicism.  History is riddled with those who want to use violence & murder to uphold their “religious beliefs.”  Let’s not judge an entire religion based upon the acts of a few.  Making Muslim synonymous with terrorism is wrong.  Just like the anti-Muslim movie that has caused a firestorm recently was wrong.  I think if we quit judging others, we will find that we are more alike than we realize.  Of course, this is just my humble opinion.

A Tale of Two Hammams

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You can’t travel to Morocco without experiencing a hammam (public steam bath).  Hammams are an important part of weekly life for most Moroccans as they usually visit at least once a week.  You can easily spend 2-3 hours since a hammam is not only for cleansing the body, but for gossip and socializing.  I found there was a ritual to the cleansing and by the time you leave, you feel like you are floating on air with supersoft skin!

I’m the type of traveler that loves to try almost anything once…and meet as many locals as I can.  I’d read that there was a difference between the local public hammam and the hammams located within hotels & riads.  So, I decided to try both.  I had researched and felt that I was ready for this experience…I was not.  Seriously. I have never experienced anything like this before in my life.  Well, maybe as an infant but my memory isn’t that good (I blame my Mom for not supplementing my formula with Ginkoba). 

I consider myself a modern Western woman who craves adventure.  But, um…I’m reserved with showing all my goodies to strangers.  Moroccan women are not.  While they may be covered from head to toe in public, it’s underwear-only (maybe) in the hammam.  I had read that you could bring your bikini or bathing suit to wear if you aren’t comfortable wearing just underwear (or going completely nude).  Apparently, swimsuits aren’t the norm in hammams (thanks, internet research).  Know that now.  Be ready to strip down and bare it all.

Public Hammams

Men and women bathe separately.  This could mean that there are 2 separate buildings, or that one gender is allowed to bathe in the morning while the other bathes in the evening.  The public hammams are much cheaper than the “spa” hammams (I paid around 100 Dirhams which is approximately $10 USD).  Partially, because it’s a “no frills” environment and you have to bring all of your own supplies.  The hammam I went to in Fes did provide buckets for water.

What do you need to bring with you?  A bag (to hold your towel and clean clothes); towel (I just brought one from the riad I was staying in); shampoo & conditioner; comb/brush; flip-flops (just like you’d bring to a gym shower); soap (most will tell you to buy black soap which has the consistency of a gooey gel but smells divine.  This is readily available in the medina.  I suggest finding some with Argan oil.); loofah (you can pick this up in the medina as well for 6 or 7 Dirham); henna (readily available in the medina); razor (if you want to shave); mat or stool (to sit on while you bathe); a bottle of water (it’s a steam room so you will get hot); deodorant (no use in spending 3 hours getting clean if you get funky within 30 minutes of leaving); lotion (say “no” to ashiness); fresh clothes & underwear (the underwear you wear into the hammam will get soaked); and a bucket (to hold all the aforementioned items).

I was lucky to meet 2 women thru my local guide who volunteered to take me to a public hammam.  And, I can honestly say that I would have been completely lost without their patience and guidance.  As we enter the changing room, I notice that there are open cubby holes surrounding wooden benches.  There are no lockers so you are just going on faith that nobody will steal your things.  My strategy was to watch and follow the lead of my 2 companions.  They stripped down to their underwear, put on their flip-flops and took their bucket of supplies thru a spacious tiled room into a narrow steam room (which was also tiled with mosaics).  So, I did the same.  Of course, while my companions had on pretty panties, I was wearing  disposable underwear that I had bought as a way to save space in my bag during my trip.  Yeah, I was stylin’.

As we enter the steam room, there are other ladies bathing.  I take a deep breath and walk right in.  I mean, I will never see those ladies again and I told myself this is a way to become comfortable with my body.  From there, it’s a series of rituals:  (1) We lay out our mats and stool, fill up about 10 buckets of water to varying temperatures (some were really hot, others were lukewarm while a couple were cool).  Then, my companions took off their underwear.  And, I’m like, “Um, are we supposed to be butt booty naked?”  (not sure how to translate that into Arabic so I just stood there with a blank look for a few seconds then took my panties off too).  (2) We use bowls & ladles to pour hot water from the buckets over our bodies.  Then, we use our hands to massage black soap over our skin.  This is a community effort as other women will ask if you can soap their back.  Of course, there was a lot of communicating with me in hand gestures since I only knew the word for “thank you” in Arabic.  Once we were soaped fully, we rinsed ourselves by ladling hot water over our bodies again.  (3) Next step is adding a small bit of water to the henna powder so that it would make a paste.  Then, we took our hands and smeared the henna paste over our bodies and let it sit as a masque for a few minutes.  I’m told this helps to soften the skin.  Then, we went thru the rinse cycle again. 

(4) After we rinsed, my companions got up and took their mat & loofah to another room.  Now, I was distracted by making sure I had my supplies so I didn’t realize that one of my companions had put their underwear back on until I’m in the next room…in all my big booty glory.  Sigh.  But, the only one who is concerned is me.  This room is where the women who work at the hammam will use your loofah to scrub you down.  They are wearing only underwear as well.  So, I am motioned over to a nice lady who says “Sleep”.  I’m like, “What?  We take a nap too?  But I don’t have any clothes on!”  I was so confused.  They start doing charades and then just move my body into the position they want it to be in by pushing me back into this woman’s arms so she can cradle me while she scrubs me.  I’m not going to lie, I was uncomfortable being naked and held by another almost-naked lady.  There was nothing sexual about it…but it was so weird to me.  Eventually, you are pushed into a lot of different positions (kind of like yoga) from laying on your side with your arm stretched over your ear to laying on your tummy with your face down.  Once I laid down, the lady grabs my ankles and pulls me towards her then starts scrubbing my back & booty.  I’m like, “WTF?”  Lord help me.  But, then, you kind of go into this relaxed state.  Don’t ask me how.  Every part of your body is scrubbed over the span of 15-20 minutes.  It’s clear that I’m a foreigner by my reaction and not being able to communicate in Arabic.  But, the lady was so nice and once she was finished she took my face in her hands and gave me a quick kiss on each cheek.  I think I still looked dazed from all of our “togetherness”. 

(5)  After the scrubbing, I was given my loofah back and headed back into the steam room to wash with black soap again.  Then we went thru the rinse cycle once more.  An attendant (wearing only underwear…seriously, nobody is clothed) keeps filling up our buckets with water.  (6)  Now it’s time to wash & condition our hair then rinse with the lukewarm water.  (7) Once finished, we move onto exfoliating our face.  I continue to do this while my companions shave their legs.  (8)  Then, my companions motion me to lay down on my tummy again (and I’m looking at them like, “Again?  I’ve already had my booty scrubbed.”).  They begin to massage my legs and back then have me turn over to massage my chest (I know), tummy and arms.  (9) Once the massage is complete, we do another rinse (this time with cool water) and I’m given some special shampoo for the va-jay-jay.  (10)  Finally, it’s time to go.  We walk out of the steam room, thru a cooling room into the changing room to dress and leave.

During this entire time, ladies come and go and everybody is talking like we are at a cafe instead of a steam bath.  It’s a very relaxed atmosphere and I noticed that the women bring in their young daughters so this is something that they start doing at a very young age.  Which is why they are not bashful or ashamed of their bodies.  I found this refreshing (once I got over being uncomfortable).  I felt so clean and so light.  But, after almost 3 hours, I was ready for a nap too.

Riad Hammam

This is a totally different experience than the public hammam.  The hammams located in riads (i.e. hotels) are geared towards tourists.  If you aren’t brave enough to be nude in front of other women, this is your best bet.  The riad hammams are like spas where you reserve an appointment time.  Once I arrived, I was shown to a changing room with lockers where I stripped out of my clothes, donned a bathing suit and robe.  Then, I was led to a shower to rinse off before being shown into a beautifully tiled steam room.  I was handed a pillow and instructed to lay down on the tiled bench.  I was given a bottle of water and a few minutes to relax before the treatments begin.  You can wear bikini bottoms but any top will be removed eventually…I found that out the hard way.  Once the attendant comes back in (she is fully clothed by the way), she starts to rub black soap over my body, then rinses me with warm water.  Next, she uses the loofah to scrub my body.  After that is complete, I was rinsed again, then led out to a small pool which was filled with cool water.  I stepped into the pool and soaked for a couple of minutes then was led upstairs for a traditional massage.  One thing I’ve noticed about massages that I get overseas is that they massage everything…and I do mean everything.  Booty and breasts.  So, you just have to either roll with it or let them know you are uncomfortable.

Overall, the hammam experience was great.  While I initially had some misgivings about exposing myself, I was able to move past it and really try to understand the true meaning of “cleansing.”  In an odd way, I became more comfortable with my body while developing a kinship with my companions.  If you go to Morocco, I highly recommend you experience the hammam.  I promise that you won’t forget it!

Peach Lavender Honey Ice Cream

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Summer…the perfect time for ice cream!  My obsession with Pinterest has finally paid off (and really, I had to step back and stop pinning decorating ideas for my non-existent multi-million dollar mansion).  I found a wonderful recipe that combines my 2 favorite things…eating & travel.  Living in Atlanta, you can find deliciously ripe peaches all summer and I had bought lavender during my visit to the Provence region of France.  The recipe is super simple and very light.  Instead of 2 cups of sugar, the ice cream is sweetened with only 1/3 cup of honey!  So I tell myself that it’s healthy for me (even though it calls for heavy cream, whole milk and coconut milk).

You can find the recipe (and many more delicious concoctions) at Tartelette.  The recipe also includes lemon shortbread cookies to eat along with the ice cream.  Delish!

IMG_1929While I mostly followed the recipe, I did make a few tweaks.  First, I found that not all peaches are created equally.  I tried to buy mostly firm peaches but it was hit or miss on the halves staying firm or being squishy when I cut them open.  I used a combination of white flesh & yellow flesh peaches.  And second, while I stayed true to the recipe and only drizzled 1 tbsp of honey, I used a bit more lavender (just sprinkling freely) in the hopes of having a stronger lavender flavor (as I couldn’t taste any lavender from my first attempt at this recipe).  I roasted the peaches for approximately 35 minutes (instead of 30) which made it easier to remove the skins.  I suggest playing around with the timing to see what works best for you based on your climate and stove type.

While the peaches were roasting (and the smell is wonderful), I started on the base.  I stayed true to the recipe.  The aroma from the base is heavenly too.  Once the base had come to a boil, I set it aside to cool prior to pouring into an airtight container for refrigeration.

After the peaches were done roasting, I removed the skins and pits, then used a potato masher to mash them up for use in the ice cream maker.

Once the base has been chilled (either overnight or by chilling in the freezer for a couple of hours), I started churning the base first…then added the mashed peaches.  The total churn process took about 30 minutes.  The result was a whole lot of deliciousness!

For those of you on Weight Watchers, 1 serving (1/2 cup) is 4 points.  Bon appétit!

The Name Game

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Naming your child is like a game of Craps…you roll the dice and pray that your kid doesn’t put you in assisted living because of it.

I’m sure when my parents named me, they thought they’d found a nice, normal name.  How were they supposed to know that Prince Rogers Nelson was looking thru the Big Book of Baby Names trying to find a nice title for his ode to masturbation???  Prince was probably perusing through the book saying, “Darling Annie?  Nope…she has a musical named after her and was rescued by rich folks.  I need something more street…Darling Shantae?  Nope, too ethnic, there needs to be a name that all races can identify with.  Oh, here we go…Nikki.”

Yeah, it was great growing up with my own theme song.  Growing up is hard enough without having your own parental advisory soundtrack.

Kids will claim to know about everything…they are just big perpetrators.  Kind of like Sarah Palin.  Have you ever tried to tell a kid something only to hear, “I KNOW!  GOD!  I’M NOT A BABY!”?  But they don’t know and come off looking like a complete idiot.  I was one of those idiots…absolutely refusing to ask the meaning of something because I thought that it would weaken my “cool” rep (which, let’s be honest…I had no rep) at school.

When I was in 3rd grade, a boy came up to me on the playground and said “Darling Nikki, do you masturbate to magazines?”  My response?  “Yeah, all the time!”  No way was I going to act like I didn’t know what the word “masturbate” meant. I had a rep to protect.  I’d figure that out when I got home.

After school, I went home and asked my Dad “What does masturbate mean?”  His response?  He just walked away from me.  Like I was a crazy homeless person who had offended his delicate sensibilities.  My Dad doesn’t respond well to those types of questions.

For example, one day, my Mom gave me a book titled, “So, You Got Your Period?”  I guess it was a self-help book to young girls who suddenly find themselves bleeding and can’t find a big enough band-aid for their vagina.  And, really?  A book, Mom?  We couldn’t have just had “the talk”?  I have one of those mothers who thinks books provide the answers to everything.  If I have an issue, she will find a book about it on Amazon and send it to me with a note that says, “I think you will find this helpful.”  Ten-year old Nikki was mortified by “So, You Got Your Period?”  There were pictures of a woman’s uterus and chapters on the wonders of menstruating and exploring the exciting changes in your body.  Seriously.  My Mom told me to read it then we would discuss.  Like it’s book club.  Anyway, my brother saw the book and at the dinner table (where all the crazy happens) he looks at my Dad and asks, “What’s a period?”  I knew that question was a non-starter based on the look of incredulity on my father’s face.  He responds “A dot at the end of a sentence.  Now eat your peas.”  Then he gets up from the table and walks away.

Anyway, I was determined to find out what masturbate meant.  My rep was everything!  So, I followed my Dad around and pestered him until I got a response.  And, finally, he told me that masturbate meant coloring in a book.  He should know me better than that.  I grew up with a mother that made us use new words in a sentence all the time!  I spent the next couple of months thinking masturbation was a cool new way to color.  At a family reunion, I walked up to my aunt and said, “Hey, I just masturbated all over this coloring book.  Do you like it?”  My Dad happened to be standing next to me…he walked away.  Once my Mom explained what the word meant (she probably gave me a book titled, “So, You Want to Know About Masturbation?”), I was mortified.  And pissed that I had gotten caught slipping at school.

Darling Nikki was a turning point in my life.  That song put me on the map at Richards Elementary and introduced me to the greatest artist…Prince.  I had to go to my friend’s house to listen to him because my parents refused to buy his “nastiness” (to quote my Dad).  I had no idea what he was singing about or the fact that most of the songs were sexually explicit.  He just seemed really cool with the lace & ruffled blouses he’d wear while riding a motorcycle.  Prince was my boo (well, my boo on the side because I still considered myself Mrs. Michael Jackson).  I wanted my parents to take me to a Prince concert so bad.  For some reason, my father felt it was inappropriate to take a 9-year-old to see a man gyrate around stage wearing buttless pants.

So, my parents compromised and took me to a New Edition concert instead.  Bet they rethought that after watching Being Bobby Brown.  Butless pants don’t seem so bad next to a crackhead.

Doggie Daycare…An Elite Black Ops Training Facility

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Don’t let the sweet face fool you!

I have become obsessed with watching my dog, Riley, on the webcam at doggie daycare. I know, I know…I need to get a life. But, it’s just so freaking cute. After a couple of days, I started to notice that the dogs seemed to have their own little “culture”. And, as I was bored, I just created a story of what I think is going on at Barking Hound Village Doggie Daycare.

Riley is working as part of the Secret Service security team. Apparently, someone noticed that he has exceptional guarding abilities and that he is able to detect unsavory characters from a minimum of 20 feet away!!! He was originally recruited for the job of “First Dog” but felt that there was no future in that position. It’s all photo-ops. However, he did agree to allow Sasha and Malia to pet him each day for a couple of hours. He is so selfless. Riley talked about it when he was a guest on Oprah’s Next Chapter. Below is a transcript:
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Oprah: Welcome to the show, Riley!

Riley: Oprah, please call me Mr. Pitts, okay? We don’t know each other like that.

Oprah: Sorry, Mr. Pitts. You know, I had a dog that looked just like you. Her name was Sophie.

Riley: Are you calling me a girl? Oh, so now all Cocker Spaniels look alike? Have you learned nothing from Obama? America is “supposed” to be post-racial now!

Oprah: You are right. It was a slip. Rush Limbaugh is rubbing off on me.

Riley: No probs, O.

Oprah: Don’t get overly familiar, Mr. Pitts. Remember what happened to James Frey. So, tell me about your exciting new position in the Obama-Biden administration!

Riley: Well, basically, I am in charge of canine security detail for Obama. I coordinate all the dogs that work for the Secret Service. I’ve been training them at our training facility known under the code name “Barking Hound Village”. Most people think it’s a doggie daycare…that’s how we fool them. They never know what goes on during nap time. That’s when we run black ops simulations. Anything can happen, Oprah. Constant vigilance!!!!

Oprah: Wow, that is amazing. How were you recruited?

Riley: I was running a rogue operation a few years ago and was betrayed by this Shih Tzu (you can’t trust anything that fluffy. Yeah, they look cute but those suckers are as cunning as they come!). The Shih Tzu, Mr. Giggles, sold me out for a bag of treats and a new titanium collar (he’s worse than Diddy when it comes to wearing bling). Next thing I know, I have been picked up by some outfit known as Cocker Rescue with my picture placed on their website. Major breach of security. Anybody could’ve seen me. I mean, you didn’t see Jack Bauer’s picture on a website! Anyway, I got adopted by this nice lady. My new “mama” took me to obedience school which was a joke. I can’t be brainwashed, okay? Ask her about it. She knows that I still pee in the living room just to show her that nobody rules me. Understand?

Oprah: Totally. Then what happened?

Riley: Well, after I was able to convince my mama that I needed “socialization” with other dogs, I started recruiting at this doggie daycare and within a couple of months, started a new organization. With the doggie daycare as a front, nobody would suspect that we were a group of elite fighters who rooted out terrorist dogs throughout the world. However, as with any organization, you always have someone go rogue. I call it “The Mr. Giggles Effect”. We had a Doberman named Targa go bad. It was unfortunate but he had to be eliminated after he slighted me in front of my minions. You don’t disrespect me. I didn’t earn the name, “The Punisher”, for selling cupcakes to the kids. Turns out that Targa was a double agent, working for an outfit by the name of “Paws for Dogs”. I had been trying to infiltrate them for months to get to the brains behind the outfit. Someone who we only know under the pseudonym of “Doggilicious”. The only intel we had is that he hangs out with Snoop Dogg a lot. Anyway, our first break came when Killa Mike (he’s one of Michael Vick’s old fighting dogs…a real find) heard Targa humming “Gin and Juice”. No self-respecting dog hums a Snoop Dogg song. That’s played out. After cornering Targa, we broke him using a new torture tactic called “Operation Solid” which is basically making him listen to an endless loop of Ashford and Simpson’s song “Solid” for hours until he begs for mercy. He can’t even stop himself from cowering when someone comes up and screams “Solid as a Rock!” We broke him and found out the pertinent information, shut down the terrorist group and received a special commendation. That’s how Obama heard of us. He told me that he needs someone who doesn’t trust anybody. Do you think I let someone roll up on my mama’s car? Hecks no! You better stay 50 feet away! If I hear kids walking down the street talking loud…IT IS ON! I DON’T PLAY ANY GAMES!

Oprah: Wow, I think I could really use some security like that.

Riley: Call my assistant, Miss Stinkpot, and she’ll set you up.

Oprah: So, are you still recruiting?

Riley: Yeah, but it’s difficult. I tried to recruit my Granny’s dog, Payton, but he refused to come out of retirement unless he was given an astronomical amount of treats. I asked him if he had read the Huffington Post which reported that employment was down. Then, my cousin Cody sent me his resume. Sigh. Apparently, he labels himself as “The Assassin” and had pictures of all the chew toys he had destroyed. This was supposed to be evidence that he has the guts for this grueling job. I decided to give him a chance. Unfortunately, when we were on a stakeout, someone’s car alarm went off and he peed in the car and hid under the seat. He’s been reassigned to an office position. Well, thanks for having me on but I gots to run. The O man needs me. Oh, be on the lookout for my new book, “It’s Hard Being Me”. It’s out in stores this summer.