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This is where you stick random tidbits of information about yourself.
Age 23, living in sin in Twickenham with Cheesy
Likes
Movies
Books
Writing
Theatre
Hugs
Kittens
Chess
Scrabble (mostly beating Cheesy's butt)
Buffy The Vampire Slayer
Dislikes
Vegetables
Arguments
Cleaning
Trashy TV
Pretensions
Public Transport
Pets
Rabbits-Bambi, Fern, Sooty, Pippa-all deceased
Dog-Sammy-deceased :(
Fish-CatFlap-recently (and finally!) deceased
Cat-Tiggy-still scratching
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Technically Rachel
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Thursday, September 28, 2006
So – I have actually been doing stuff. There’s been an influx of people now which has meant some socializing, and actual leaving of the hotel. Yay, me. I am now getting to know Marrakech quite well – and that will be the key to me spending time alone there. Knowing where’s safe, where I can go and sit and watch the city go by without being harassed. When I comment to people that I find it difficult to go around by myself, I get that insincere sympathetic look. They want to feel sorry for me, but don’t really get what the problem is. These people are usually men. However, wandering around the alleyways of the Medina the other evening with Cheeky Irish, strolling past benches of straggly looking men watching us closely, Cheeky Irish suddenly commented that yes – it would be a nightmare for a girl here alone. That said, when he leaves next week I know I’ll be able to wander the Medina by myself – because by then I’ll know the places to go, and more importantly not to go. So all is well in the Rachel-Discovers-Marrakech territory.
Bartering is actually quite good fun too – there’s a playful teasing to it, it’s almost like people winding each other up. It’s all theatre, and that I can definitely relate to. While I have been here I’ve bought 3 tunics, some trousers, a head scarf and a ornamental thingy – all bartered down, but probably not as low as it could go. But as long as I’m happy with the price what does that matter?
Every day and night the Djeema El Fna (the main square in the Medina) is full of snake charmers. Genuine cobras (no doubt defanged) writhing about looking sinister, and piles of pythons sleeping in the sun. As yet I’ve not been very close – I want to get a good look as it’s rather fascinating but you know the minute you’re within grasp of the owners of the snakes their gonna try and put one of those bloody pythons round your neck and try and get 50 dirhams out of you for the privilage of being frickin terrified. There are also monkies – which look particularly unhappy and mangy.
I wish I spoke the language so I could partake in the Storytellers. Here, with a little lamp old men sit surrounded by people, telling stories. That’s all it is – no belly dancing, music playing, flash tricks or animals – just a guy telling a story, and people sitting around captivated. I love that it’s a pass time here and wish I could experience it properly.
Went eating at the weekend to a place called Café De La Post. An old Post Office coverting into a restaurant – it feels more like an old Savannah ranch house and has such a lovely nostalgic feel to it. It’s the kind of place I think I’d prefer sitting and whiling a day away rather than having a meal – I hope I will give that a try before I go.
Eating has been more functional than inspiring lately as me and Cheeky Irish randomly try places out – neither of us know where the heck to go and end up at little cafes that tend to have ratty cats snoozing out on the canopies. That said, the food is always excellent, filling and we have lovely views of the Djeema El Fna and the Koutubia Temple. The mood in the evenings are great at the moment too – it’s very quite from around 6.30 to 8.30 as people hear the siren announcing the end of fasting and go home to eat with their families (I love this siren – it’s like an air raid siren, but I believe made up of chanting). At 9ish, the streets are full again with people only just gearing up for the night of eating, drinking and doing whatever else they’ve been deprived of during the day. It’s a nice atmosphere.
3:31 pm
Snicker. Sorry - I'm so evil.
So, it's Ramadam here this week (and for further weeks onwards). Most the poor sods on our crew have to work all day without eating and drinking so there is a rather grumpier air that arrives about mid-afternoon time. Good news is everyone scarpers out of here pretty early to get home for the family meal, so at least we all get our evenings. Feel like an ass eating my lunch every day - I thought about joining in for the purposes of solidarity (and waistline) but lasted, oh, ten minutes. Me without food does not work. Far too stuck in my Western ways. They're good about it though.
Right - must get some work done. More later I hope.
8:57 am
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
For the truly masochistic among you - trust me, you won't like the answers ;)
Crush Calculator
4:48 pm
More updates soon - promise!
In the meantime - Momo, please check the Popo's email (gmail) account - there's an email with some stuff I need you to take a look at.
9:38 am
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Is it wrong that I want to try the Marrakech McDonalds?
12:06 pm
Don't worry - all is well today. There were hormonal issues as well yesterday (which I shan't go into detail about on here... did I just spell shan't correctly? For some reason that looks wrong). I can assure commenters that he does not fancy me (being particularly gay) but that he's not a nasty guy either - just someone I think who lacks tact. Plus I think Americans don't always 'get' quirky english people. (Sweeping generalisation of the week). He's being very nice today anyway.
Saturday was a bit rubbish - the weather was a bit crappy to start with and I had nothing to do except mooch around my room feeling sorry for myself. Although this usually leads to productive writing (and it did) so I shouldn't moan about it too much. Sunday I met up with a bunch of lovely costume people and we spent a nice day strolling around the Medina and buying stuff. They're experienced with Marrakech and one in particular is a bartering machine.
Cheeky Irish arrived yesterday and so far it's been great having a familiar face around - someone to sit in the bar and natter with in the evening. We had a little wander into the Medina last night and managed to see some cool stuff.
More details later - work to do!
Thing I Saw Today I Wouldn't Normally See
A camel scratching its neck on a palm tree.
Amusing Sight of The Day
A dog carrying around its morning's scavaging in a plastic bag - the streets are its supermarket.
10:08 am
Monday, September 25, 2006
It’s been a while since someone made me feel small for being myself. At least in the workplace. There are always people I deal with who occasionally give me ‘that look’ or a cutting comment if I say something a bit daft. Which to be fair is something I do quite often – I have a tendancy to think before I speak and as consequence can come out with something either a bit stupid or a bit bonkers.
Me and me my sub-boss (we both have the same boss but this guy is senior to me) haven’t been getting on hugely well. That’s the wrong phrase really – we get on, we don’t argue or anything, but the last week I’ve noticed an… undercurrent. He’s been icing me out a bit with social stuff and I’ve felt a couple of times I’m intruding on him, or he’s trying to avoid me. I can understand this – we work together all day he most likely wants some time to himself. But I think it’s more that I annoy him. Which is a shame, cause I really enjoy his company and like the guy a lot.
The other day he commented that I hum and whistle a lot. I do. I hardly realize when I’m doing it, but I like a tune (even if I’m not particularly tuneful). And that I giggle a lot. Which I do. It’s a nervous tic mostly. At first I thought he was just commenting on it, but as I explained that it’s a habit that I don’t even notice anymore, I got ‘that look’. Now, I know I can be over sensitive and paranoid at times at people’s opinions of me, so I put it aside.
This morning at breakfast he commented that I make a ‘brrrr’ noise with my lips – which is true and mostly an extension from humming. I explained that I think a lot of it comes from my childhood – being a kid who would constantly say the wrong thing and be ridiculed for it I learned to hold my tongue. Which is VERY difficult for me to do. I think giggling/making noises is my way of filling a silence when I would otherwise be tempted to blurt out something random like “Wouldn’t it be cool if we could eat rocks”. He said I should have more confidence in what I say – which is true, but experience tells me that my brain doesn’t work that way. I say it’s likely that this behaviour has been ingrained in me from being a kid – a lot of people are like that.
“Well,” he says pointedly, “People can learn to change.” He gets up and swans off to gets himself some more fruit leaving me sat there feeling small and imperfect. And angry. I don’t want to change. And why should I? I am quite happy that I hum and whistle and sing – that I am generally happy enough to do so, and because giggling always cheers me up. I am not going to apologise for that or be made to feel that I should. It’s who I am. And if that person is annoying, well that’s just the way it is. So there.
Had a good weekend in Marrakech though – which I shall blog about later. Just needed to get that out of my system.
10:56 am
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
*Pant pant*
Oh my God - This Life is back!
2:34 pm
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
And they've gone again.
Sigh.
2:11 pm
Woohoo! Somehow I can see my comments now. Don't know how or why, but there they are. Yay! Ok, so I have two maximum a post but hey, it's all good.
10:07 am
Monday, September 18, 2006
Had a fairly lazy weekend. Saturday wasn’t too bad – I went shopping in the modern area of Marrakech. Realised that I am going to have to just behave like a Londoner. Walking around confidently and ignoring any greetings from men or groups of men. If you ignore them, they leave you alone. But even politely muttering “Ca va bien” in response has them literally turning around in their tracks and immediately hounding you, trying to get your email address or get you to agree to meet with you or go somewhere with them. So for once the London attitude has come in handy – it’s just a shame it has to be used. I have to remember though that if I were a man alone they would not be approaching me for a friendly chat at all. It’s all about the funny little English girl daring to wonder around on her own. The one time I sat still in one of many of Marrakech’s beautiful gardens within 5 minutes I had a young man come and sit next to me. This is more difficult – you’re not going anywhere and I hate being rude. In hindsight I should have just pretended not to speak any French, but part of me still keeps liking to believe that they are just being friendly and just want to make conversation with newcomers. However the opening question is always the same – are you alone? Are you here with a group (to which of course I immediately say yes). I lie and always say that I am married when they ask (around question number 6 I think). This invariably brings a sudden silence and an almost annoyed look – they usually look away, as if trying to think whether it is still worth conversing. Usually it is – after all, we Western women are not above partying with men who are not our husbands. In this particular case it leads to a series of questions about why my husband was not with me. Eventually I manage to leave as politely as possible – even having to insist I was happy to make my way to my hotel by myself and no he can’t have my email (there’s a bit of an obsession with that here).
Thing is, I never feel particularly threatened – none of them are stupid enough to get aggressive or move beyond polite conversation – there are tons of secret police in the city, and any signs of harassed tourists are strongly responded to. It’s just exhausting, and irritating because you know behind the polite conversation what their opinion of you is. At first I felt I was just being paranoid, but conversations with locals have made me realise that it isn’t about friendliness or interest in newcomers. And if it’s not about partying with the easy Western girl, it’s how to get money out of her. Like I said, if I was a man, they would not approach me.
So, as before I still feel dependant on other people to see the city – within a group the hassle I get is zero. I have learned that I can get by alone if I am in a busy area and I don’t basically stop anywhere where someone can corner me into being polite - which is a better place than I was in the other weekend.
I did manage to buy some clothes though and even haggled reasonably successfully in that the price was reduced – no doubt I was still paying over the odds, but I was proud I didn’t just submit to the first figure quoted. And the people in the shops are lovely. I should get across that my attitude about the boys on the street does not extend to the people of Marrakech as a whole. The people I work with here are wonderful and it’s brilliant being exposed to their lives and their culture. Their commitment to their faith is extraordinary – and while I don’t agree with it, it’s easy to see why Islam is as unbreakable as it is when its followers are so involved. Unlike Christianity it requires complete commitment and obedience to its laws – there is no middle ground.
Every city has its people who make it problematic and its people who make it wonderful – Marrakech is no different. The more I see of Morocco the more I appreciate and love – I just hope I regain enough confidence to see as much of it as possible. Am looking forward to more people coming out here. Cheeky Irish is going to be here from next week which will be really nice. Obviously at some point Cheesm will come out, and Fat Ass is already making plans for a long weekend. If anyone else fancies coming out for a stint, let me know – there’s plenty of room!
2:43 pm
Thursday, September 14, 2006
So. Last Thursday I flew back to London with a chest infection and a temperature. Packed through the illness and slept until the Cheesm got home from which point I was rather awake (ahem). Felt much better by the morning but still a bit woozy and most definitely full of snot and flem (nice.) Flew out that day to Palma for Fat Ass' Hen Party celebrations. Can't go into much detail here as her Billy Zane reads the blog now and again and also now the Hens know about it (though they did have that look of "lame" when Fat Ass was telling them about it). All you need to know is there was lots of sunbathing and drinking - I now have a lovely base tan to work on whilst out in Morocco and also a refound appreciation of how lovely it is to swim in the ocean. A small hangover and a boat ride later I was flying back to London getting in close to midnight. At which point the airport decided not to even release our luggage for a good hour. Swines. Got home at the wee hours of the morning to a surprisingly alert Cheesm (hmm, wonder why?). We have a house guest as well at the moment (Goulden Moments himself) - poor guy.
With about 4 hours sleep under my belt I then flew the next day back to Morocco. Phew.
Glad to say the temperature has dropped significantly while I was away. Whereas last week we were hitting highs of 40 we're now only at highs of 30. Thank sweaty God for that. Been back in the office since, so nothing of interest to really report for now.
Also noticed while I was back in England that none of you ungrateful bastards have been leaving any comments. This is the thanks I get for regular blogging.
*Shakes fist*
Ah well - I can't read them anyway!
12:18 pm
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
For lunch today we had a roast chicken stuffed with chicken livers and egg. When they have chicken here, they have all the chicken!
PS It was very nice.
2:40 pm
I finally saw a lizard today. Woohoo! So far this country seems to be made up entirely of kittens and birds that make miaow noises. And two spiders. (Dammit!) Oh and flies. Lots of frickin flies that like my face. Yuck.
Kittens are quite frustrating. They re tiny and adorable and cute, but wild and riddled with fleas and ringworm. So no picking up the cuddly wuddly thing. Rather against my nature.
Had an interesting but frustrating weekend. Made the initial mistake of walking to the Menara Gardens around midday. Half way there and Noel Coward’s “Mad Dogs & Englishman” was ringing in the back of my head. Too hot and all the trees are short arses in this country i.e. no shade. The other mistake I made as well was going by myself. It seems an Englishwoman alone in the streets is an immediate invitation to conversation. Only from men of course. On mopeds. Fun. Thankfully with most of them claiming only to speak English is a good deterrent. Walking back I ended up accompanied by two “students” (who knows?!) who were pleasant to chat with but they asked lots of questions and lost interest when I claimed to have a fiancée. Still wanted my frickin email though.
I suppose it’s something to get used to and to learn to deal with. To indicate that just cause I’m western doesn’t automatically mean I’m a slut looking for a good time. The last thing I want is to be rude and offend any locals who are just trying to be friendly and practice their English – but neither do I want to encourage any of them who might have less than wholesome motives. It’s a sinister friendliness that comes from strangers on the street – to reject it seems rude and well… Western. Something you want to fight. Most of them, particularly in the Medina, are trying to con you into shops or to find a way of getting money out of you. You have to learn to be firm and polite at the same time.
The realization that alone I would face constant interrogation was a depressing one. I had to wait for other co-workers to go to The Medina before I was willing to. I find when I’m with other men, I get no attention whatsoever. The beeline is made straight for the bloke and not as often. Alone I would get twice as many approaches. My first weekend I wasn’t willing to deal with that. As someone who loves roaming and wandering about by myself, this is torture. I know the longer I’m here the more I will get used to it – I will be able to walk confidently around the Medina and not let it bother me. Covering up I found didn’t make a huge amount of difference – it’s all about who you’re with.
But this is what being in a new culture is all about – adapting to its ways. You cannot fight a new culture, you can only find the best way to fit yourself within it.
9:50 am
Friday, September 01, 2006
Am feeling a bit better. Mostly tired, but better.
Have had a lovely lunch - which was a surprise considering what I ate. Friday is couscous day. No problem there - big fan of couscous. Except these two giant bowls of couscous turn up, one of which is full of vegetables, the other is chicken covered in caremalised onions and sultanas. Hmmm, thought I. This could be difficult. A couple of bites later and I was wolfing the chicken dish down. Admittedly I didn't realise the onions were onions till the end, but even with the whole sultana element I was surprised how yummy it worked. Especially with a side order of leben - otherwise known as soured milk. Go figure. Apart from the current tummy upset, my taste buds seem suited to Moroccan food. (Although I didn't eat from the vegetable bowl - I've not developed THAT much!). Have also found Bounty bars and have taken nice pills and drinky things for my stomach. It's not very bad - what you would expect really. Very tame considering my Crohn's Disease.
Am also pleased with myself as it seems I can now say "Thankyou" in understandable Arabic. Go me.
Still don't know what the situation with my bath and the bridesmaid dress is (ooh, a catchy title for a little novella there perhaps?) but have decided not to worry.
I can't read my comments at the moment - not sure if it's a Morocco thing or the Studio network blocking it. Will hopefully end up in an Internet park at the weekend and will find out. In the meantime, I'm not ignoring your no doubt wonderful comments - I simply cannot read them! Do keep leaving them though. (She says, realising there probably isn't a single comment so far!)
6:27 pm
Oh and the day gets worse.
First off, the joys of eating foreign food have taken their inevitable toll on my digestive system. Wonderful.
Second off, the bridesmaids dresses are NOT going to be delivered in time for my first trip back. If things definitely go that way I will not get my dress fitted until the day before the wedding. Giddy joy. Not to mention numerous unnecessary flight changes/train bookings made and a probably need to cancel said train ticket and rearrange my flight. AGAIN. Grrr.
I keep making mistakes today too - feel like I left my brain in the bathtub. Which is frankly possible since it gave up all hope of a functional day the second it watched the plug thingy pull off in my hands.
Waaaaaa. Want my Cheesy.
10:51 am
I'm not having the best day.
My bathtub has this turny thing that opens and closes the plug. (What's wrong with just using a chain?!). I turned mine to open the plug this morning and it came off. Properly off. Snapped off, not just loose from its fittings. And the plug is still closed. Problematic.
This means one of two things.
The hotel is going to have to get a proper plumber/bath fixer in today to put in a whole new turny thing; or
I'm going to have to move hotel rooms because the bath will need replacing.
Joy.
9:06 am
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