When I was assigned to Morocco as a Peace Corps Volunteer in 2000, I had a decision to make. Either accept the assignment or wait for the next one, wherever it would lead me. If this sounds like hesitation on my part, then that's exactly what it was. Having spent the lion share of my youth in Europe, Morocco simply wasn't my idea of a distant, exotic place, let alone a Peace Corps country, since it was a mere few swimming laps from Spain.
In the end, I'm glad I accepted. My instinct that Morocco was eerily similar to life on the European continent proved to be completely false, and I didn't have to wait for the classic cars mingling with the donkeys on the Moroccan highways to confirm that. The airport in Casablanca, then resembling an above average Greyhound bus station back in the States at best, already sorted that notion out. So this was Casablanca, Morocco's number one. I was hardly impressed.
From the airport we took a bus to Rabat, Morocco's capital, which was slightly better. There was dust and sand everywhere, rarely would you find a patch of green grass, save for the palace, perhaps, or one of the ministries that had a little extra pull and could siphon off some of the water for their own misguided needs. The Peace Corps Volunteers themselves stayed at a lycee, a high school near downtown Rabat. The school, while up to Moroccan standard, wouldn't have passed any sniff test back in the west. No windows, no air conditioning or even fans, basketball rims without nets, plus water that ran sparingly.
Such was life as a Peace Corps volunteer. Years later, my lot has improved, as has Rabat's. In the last blog, I already mentioned the tram running through the city. But Rabat was so much more than that. The strip running along the river between Rabat and Sale, back then largely dirt, has now become a modern promenade. Everywhere we saw large fields of bright green grass in a country where water was supposedly as rare as diamonds.
Both taxi fleets, the city and country fleet, have been modernized, largely through Moroccan manufactured Renaults. Whereas the inner-city transportation used to solely consist of old 240 Diesel Mercedes cars, now there were shiny white new Peugeots and Dacias. It used to be that as Peace Corps Volunteers, we would look forward to a visit to the capital for a chance at a lunch or dinner at McDonald's. Not in the year 2018. Liebi and I are fully aware of the Moroccan cuisine, and would rarely touch anything else. Tagine, anyone? Couscous? Besara? Nobody makes food as delicious as the Arabs, whether they are in the Middle East or in Northern Africa. If I am, God or Allah forbid, ever to have a last meal, let it be Moroccan or Lebanese.
We took the kids to the beautiful new Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art, featuring paintings by giants like Kandinsky, Manet, but what truly blew my mind were the paintings by the Moroccan artists, who were every bit as good as their European counterparts. Total entry fee for five people? 12 euros and worth every cent.
Did you know Rabat has a modern zoo, and that it cost the family about 10 euros to get in? This zoo puts most of its counterparts in the west to shame, and this is no exaggeration. Wide open spaces, ponds and animal friendly enclosures (if there is such a thing), all without having to mortgage the house. Simply gorgeous.
Rabat has arrived as a more modern metropolis, although some of the old features and mainstays, most notably the souk, didn't have to be sacrificed for the honor. Not just words, but finally deeds. Well done, Mohammed VI. Hail to the king.
In the end, I'm glad I accepted. My instinct that Morocco was eerily similar to life on the European continent proved to be completely false, and I didn't have to wait for the classic cars mingling with the donkeys on the Moroccan highways to confirm that. The airport in Casablanca, then resembling an above average Greyhound bus station back in the States at best, already sorted that notion out. So this was Casablanca, Morocco's number one. I was hardly impressed.
From the airport we took a bus to Rabat, Morocco's capital, which was slightly better. There was dust and sand everywhere, rarely would you find a patch of green grass, save for the palace, perhaps, or one of the ministries that had a little extra pull and could siphon off some of the water for their own misguided needs. The Peace Corps Volunteers themselves stayed at a lycee, a high school near downtown Rabat. The school, while up to Moroccan standard, wouldn't have passed any sniff test back in the west. No windows, no air conditioning or even fans, basketball rims without nets, plus water that ran sparingly.
Such was life as a Peace Corps volunteer. Years later, my lot has improved, as has Rabat's. In the last blog, I already mentioned the tram running through the city. But Rabat was so much more than that. The strip running along the river between Rabat and Sale, back then largely dirt, has now become a modern promenade. Everywhere we saw large fields of bright green grass in a country where water was supposedly as rare as diamonds.
Both taxi fleets, the city and country fleet, have been modernized, largely through Moroccan manufactured Renaults. Whereas the inner-city transportation used to solely consist of old 240 Diesel Mercedes cars, now there were shiny white new Peugeots and Dacias. It used to be that as Peace Corps Volunteers, we would look forward to a visit to the capital for a chance at a lunch or dinner at McDonald's. Not in the year 2018. Liebi and I are fully aware of the Moroccan cuisine, and would rarely touch anything else. Tagine, anyone? Couscous? Besara? Nobody makes food as delicious as the Arabs, whether they are in the Middle East or in Northern Africa. If I am, God or Allah forbid, ever to have a last meal, let it be Moroccan or Lebanese.
We took the kids to the beautiful new Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art, featuring paintings by giants like Kandinsky, Manet, but what truly blew my mind were the paintings by the Moroccan artists, who were every bit as good as their European counterparts. Total entry fee for five people? 12 euros and worth every cent.
Did you know Rabat has a modern zoo, and that it cost the family about 10 euros to get in? This zoo puts most of its counterparts in the west to shame, and this is no exaggeration. Wide open spaces, ponds and animal friendly enclosures (if there is such a thing), all without having to mortgage the house. Simply gorgeous.
Rabat has arrived as a more modern metropolis, although some of the old features and mainstays, most notably the souk, didn't have to be sacrificed for the honor. Not just words, but finally deeds. Well done, Mohammed VI. Hail to the king.
