Adventures in Africa: Casablanca
The lady at the check in had long black hair and a thin gold line around her front tooth. She took my ticket and said “69”. I murmured under my breath “how appropriate and my mother and I had a chuckle on the matter. We were walking on the ramp to meet the short line that led to the plane where another stewardess greeted us. A thick blotch of purple covered the place where her eyelids should have been and she smiled and asked for the boarding pass. I fumbled for it to no avail as it had fallen into the abyss of my giant beige purse. They let me through anyway though because I was with my mother and I told them my ticket number, 69.
The woman un the adjacent aisle wore a long tan colored kaftan and black paten leather shoes. She had a beautiful face and smiled at the flight attendants. It appeared that she knew them and I wondered why and how and it was somewhat mysterious to me. She put on her seatbelt and rummaged into her black fuzzy, felt-like purse. She pulled out a small orange book that I assumed to be a travel Koran or prayer of some sort. As she leaved through the pages I listened to the pre-flight announcement over the intercom.
The flight attendant smiled at me twice while she pointed out the emergency exits in the customary airplane style; big sweeping motions with exaggerating arms. Then she smiled at me again while she demonstrated how to blow up the yellow life vest. It was like she knew me, as though I was a friend of hers and she was happy to have me there. Perhaps it was because I was the only person who seemed to be paying attention, or because I looked into her eyes, but she made me feel relaxed and I sat back into the big business class seat.
Casablanca seemed so far away now. It seemed, like so many places unknown, a myth from a Hollywood movie. I pictured camels, casinos and kaftans…streets with vendor carts and gypsy fortune tellers. I hoped to see some monkeys too.
The flight was one of the easiest of my life. It was seven hours long. I slept most of the way in one of those big, couch-like business class seats. When we arrived at 6:30AM, I felt rested and excited to see the city. We went straight to the hotel with another couple that would be joining us on our Stanford Travel Expedition.
The hotel was regal and typical of what one would expect from Morocco. It had big archways and men in the traditional dress waiting outside to greet the guests. We were then welcomed by Nagla and Julien; two of our guides on our journey. As we discussed the preliminary travel plans, one of the waiters brought over some Moroccan Mint Tea, Mint tea is the national drink of Morocco. It is typical of every household and drank both ritualy and socially. They pore the tea out of a silver kettle from high above small tea glasses that warm the hands and the heart of the drinker.
Julien informed us that we would have the day off to explore the city and rest up before the rest of the travelers got in. Mom was tired so I grabbed my sketchpad and a pencil and headed for the lobby. I drew the giant archways of the hotel lobby and the beautiful flowers and palms which adorned the walls. I must have been feeling lonely because I drew a fictional somebody sitting in front of me. For some reason the person looked like Jesus and that seemed odd since I’m Jewish and don’t think of Jesus that much.
Around 2pm, I went to the gym with my mother and then we had a Moroccan bath, This involves steaming, scrubbing and rubbing and is most pleasant. We laid in the steam room together. The room was dome shaped with magnificent blue and white tiles. The sound of running water echoed through me as I relaxed on a white cloth submerged in two inches of warm water. It would have been relaxing if it wasn’t so fucking hot but I guess that’s the whole point of taking a steam bath,
The exciting part came after the steam. A woman in a white spa uniform came to get me and lead me to a marble bed where she told me to lie down. I notices the dark brown hair on her arms as I slipped onto the hard surface. She rubbed me with some sort of lotion, starting on my face and then down my breast and stomach. I wondered if she would go between my legs. She rubbed my calves and came pretty close. It turned me on. I opened my eyes to see what she was doing. She was looking at my stomach as she rubbed my thighs. The look on her face was serene and lovely and I closed my eyes again.
The woman scrubbed me till my skin was red. It felt good though a bit stingy but I could see from all the dead skin around that I really needed it. She rinsed me off then and I went for a massage with another woman. The massage was very relaxing and I tried not to fall asleep but I did because I was starting to get tired from the flight.
After our pampering had finished we got dressed and went to dinner. I had a salad and some minnestone soup. We were both so tired after that that we went to sleep. It was only 6:30PM. I slept soundly until I was woken up by hysterical laughter from the bed next to me. My mother was dreaming and laughing hysterically. It was starting to freak me out so I asked her loudly if she was okay and she woke up, still laughing.
posted by Liah Alonso @ 10:26 AM
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