Monday, July 23, 1979
Only one more fellow bothered me
that night with a question of where I was going to sleep. Managed to sleep a
little, then got up about 6:00. Went to wait for the 7:00 boat to Ceuta. The
hour trip was uneventful, and being cloudy, I didn't really see anything. Once
in Ceuta, I wandered around looking for a bus to Tetouan. Asked at the boat
ticket window and was directed to take a local to Torajal, which I did. I then
fully realized that Ceuta was still part of Spain, but on the other side of the
Mediterranean Sea, and that the local bus took me to the Moroccan border. When
getting off the bus, a fellow passenger, a Moroccan named Boubker, started
speaking in English to me. Since we both were headed to Tetouan, he decided to
accompany me. Our passports were glanced at on the Spanish side, but we had to
fill out forms and get our passports stamped on the Moroccan side. Boubker had
to get to Tetouan as soon as possible to cash a check, even though Moroccan
time was an hour behind Spanish time. So he stuck out his thumb and finally got
us a ride along with two uniformed fellows with a single man driving a huge
Mercedes. Much later, in the middle of nowhere, we were stopped for customs,
asking only to open the trunk of the car.
We were dropped off in central
Tetouan, where I first went to a postal communications office to look up the
address of Association Hanan, where my UB classmate and friend, Kathy C, was serving in the Peace Corps. Then Boubker and I were directed by several
people in several different directions to finally find his bank where he cashed
his check. Then we were directed in a complete circle to finally find the
Association Hanan, only to learn that Kathy C wasn't there! But a woman working
there had a husband with a car. They would drive us out to Martil where Kathy
lives and was working with the kids at camp on the beach. Boubker insisted on coming with me, and on
paying for the gas, only taking a few pesatas from me. He wanted to hold my
hand, too! Once in Martil we walked out onto the beach where I finally and
miraculously found Kathy C whom I hadn't seen in three years! She’s looking
great! Gratefully said goodbye to Boubker.
Stayed on the beach, then came back to Kathy’s house to shower. Aaahhh! Met dozens of people, other Peace Corps volunteers and new recruits. Getting to practice speaking English again; boy, it’s difficult! Then we went to a nearby restaurant for shrimp in garlic sauce, very good, but I never had shrimp served still in the shell with veins! And then fudgesicles for dessert; haven’t had one since being in the U.S.! Spent the rest of the afternoon listening to guitar-playing and folk-singing. There was a party that night with all the Peace Corps volunteers and staff from Association Hanan (an association for the protection of children with disabilities; Kathy is also a pediatric physical therapist). Got to dance with Moroccans, trying to get them into the spirit of American parties. Later took a walk with Trip, a Peace Corps trainee, better known as “Biff the Preppie!” Town full of flat-topped buildings behind walls with gardens. “Unusual” wide streets and sidewalks. Martil is a summer resort town, part of the “Moroccan Riviera.”
Tuesday, July 24, 1979
Oh, my goodness, I am taking it
super easy! Spent the day reading, sitting on the beach keeping company with
Kathy’s company, Peace Corps volunteers on summer projects with Kathy (Maureen,
Sally, Pete, and Pete’s young Arabic teacher, Bechir). Also staying at Kathy’s
were two Moroccans, the Arabic instructors for the new trainees, and another
summer project Peace Corps volunteer, Norma, who left the next day, for Italy
of all places!
Wednesday, July 25, 1979
Went to help at the Association
with clean-up which was a leisurely process and consisted of a lot of sitting
around!! Even did some dancing, and the Moroccans wanted to slow dance with
lots of snuggling and ear nibbling. But the director put an immediate halt to
that!
Thursday, July 26, 1979
Still doing lots of reading and lying
in the sun. Ramadan, the Muslim month of fasting, began today. Those of the Islamic faith basically
cannot do anything, even drink water, during the day, but when the sun sets
they can eat, drink, smoke, go swimming, etc. We girls were bothered by a
couple Moroccans on the beach, which I guess is only to be expected.
There was another party at Kathy’s
for the Peace Corps people and three girls in off the street, originally from
Australia. Three of us anti-social people, Jim, Mark and I took a walk along
the beach and tried counting lights of fishing boats way out in the water.
Later met all the other people also out on a walk. At night during Ramadan,
things are lively! Music and people everywhere.
Friday, July 27, 1979
Still reading, on something like
my 6th book while here! And lying in the sun, and eating. Had a
picnic on the beach.
Saturday, July 28, 1979
Invited to the house of “Frank,”
as they call one of the Association Hanan teachers, for a typical break-of-the-fast
meal of Ramadan. Went with Maureen and 2-year volunteer Steve. When the cannon
went off at sunset, they were able to pull out the cigarettes and take sips of
water. We entered the gate of Frank’s house and walked into a beautiful
courtyard just full of plants. Women were crouched on flagstones cooking over
charcoal grills and gas/butane bottles. We sat on a porch with low couches having
first removed our shoes. Then they passed around water with which to wash our
hands. We Americans were given lap-cloths which you aren't supposed to use as
napkins on your lips! They also passed around a common towel for hand-wiping.
To break the fast, we first had a delicious soup, like a tomato vegetable soup
with noodles, but also had cinnamon in it. Then there were sweet pastries and figs.
Afterwards came coffee which seemed to be real sweet and had cinnamon in it.
After a wait, the meal came, fried fish, a tomato-green pepper salad, and a “stew”
with meat and potatoes. You are supposed to eat only with the right hand, and
use pieces of bread to dip and pick up food. Afterwards was fruit; plums and
grapes. We washed our hands, but later came the mint tea and cookies, chocolate
chip ones Kathy had baked. She didn't come because she was feeling sick.
Socialized for a while before going home. This family even had a TV which we
watched, but I didn't understand!
Sunday, July 29, 1979
Reading and lying in the sun
again, but today the sickness hit me. Got a super headache and sore joints. But
with a couple aspirin I was able to go to the dinner party at Dave’s, another
Peace Corps volunteer. He made a great casserole that we ate Moroccan style. Another
slow evening without Kathy who still wasn't feeling well. Maureen and I left
early, but made a quick return to get our jackets and Maureen’s wallet!
Monday, July 30, 1979
Really sick today. Head super aches!
Jaw and back of tongue sore. Go from chills to being feverishly hot. Didn't
help much in the clean-up of Kathy’s house, but I did sit-down work like sewing
secret cases for our valuables to take on our trip.
Tuesday, July 31, 1979
Feeling better. Left for our
historic but quick tour of Europe today. Started off from Martil with another
Peace Corps volunteer, Rick, who was on his way to Malaga, then to the U.S. for
vacation. We helped carry his plentiful luggage. Took an old bus into Tetouan
like we did yesterday when Kathy had to pick up and cash her checks. A conductor
collects the fare and gives you a useless bit of paper. Then from Tetouan we
caught the bus to the border. Along the way we saw camels and lots of burros in
the low arid hills with scrubby bushes. Also saw a Moroccan turtle, and storks.
At the border we dropped our stuff at the inspection desk just to rest our
arms. There was no one there, but then a strange little officer came up and
chalked "K-2" on our bags and told us to get our passports stamped, which Kathy
was already trying to do. Took almost forever to get the cards to fill out,
then forever to get the passports stamped. Finally walked over to Spanish
customs where due to a slight misunderstanding, we boldly marched past the guard.
But we backtracked and were quickly okayed. Took the bus to Ceuta.
There a local fellow tried to give us a rate for money exchange, but Rick first
checked the rates at the bank before exchanging with the “street” teller. Walked
to the waterfront and found the next boat left at 12:00. We couldn't figure out
why we couldn't catch the 11:30, until we realized Spain is an hour ahead in
time. We went into a bar to eat and weren't waited on for ages after being told
the table was reserved for eating. We did want to eat! Finally got served; I
just had a salad. Rick and Kathy got “meat” and French fries. It was suspicious
tasting meat; we liked to guess it was horse meat. We had a longer wait for the
check. Finally walked over to the dock for a very short wait for the boat.
Boarded and fell into plush comfortable seats good for sleeping. Also used the “modern”
facilities, a sit-down toilet with toilet paper! Looked on a map to discover
that the jut of land to the right was Gibraltar, the little British colony you
can only get to from Tangier, Morocco. Not at all from Spain on to which it
connects, nor from Ceuta just across the sea.
Next: Spain.
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