Thursday, March 17, 2011

I want to see mountains again, mountains!


So one of the optional excursions students here in Rabat could go on, involved visiting a Berber village and hiking in the mountains. I jumped on board right away. It takes about 3 hours by bus to really get into the mountains and yes, there is snow in Morocco. We toured several areas and overlooks in the Mountains themselves, known as the Middle-Atlas Mountains. At one stop, a place called Jbel Hebri, or Mt. Hebri, we had the chance to ride around on a horse, do some sledding, or climb the mountain (6348ft). You can guess what I chose. 1 hour later and on the brink of a heart attack I had made it to the top with a friend. While I will readily admit that I am by no means “in shape”, that was a hard climb. It was extremely steep and covered in snow which made it all the more difficult to climb. Once on the top, we realized that our bus was preparing to leave. We were faced with a dilemma: slowly walk down what took us 1 hour to climb, slide/roll down and be a wet mess for the rest of the day, or run down. We chose to run. Somehow, I managed to make it all the way down the mountain without falling. We had to zig-zag back in forth but we were cruising. Everyone at the bottom of the mountain got a good laugh out of the sight of 2 Americans prancing/running/stumbling down a mountain.

That evening we arrived in the Berber village we were staying the night at. Berber people are not Arabs. They are an older, indigenous population living in the mountains and rural parts of Morocco. And this was definitely a village. 300 people living in fairly rudimentary huts and small buildings on the side of a mountain. In fact, this village was so out there and so Berber that a friend and I could not communicate what so ever with our host family. They didn’t understand formal Arabic, Moroccan Arabic, or Egyptian Arabic. It made me realize how much I actually rely on Arabic around the house with my host sister in Rabat. Our stay there became a massive game of charades. They did have a 8 year old daughter who knew some formal Arabic so she served as our translator for urgent matters. She was particularly interesting because she had never seen a white person and immediately took a liking to me. I tried to give her some gum and she was very confused about the idea of putting it in her mouth but not eating it. Of course, she ended up eating it.

On one of my evenings out in the mountains some of us traveled to one of the bigger towns to look for jalabas (the robes that Muslim men wear; they are very warm), eat some food, and get a shave. I’ve always wanted to get a straight blade razor shave so I thought why not get one in Morocco? The guy who gave me my shave was a friend of one of our resident directors and gave me a great price and a great shave! It was ten times better than any shave I’ve ever given myself!

Finally, on our last day in the mountains we went on an extensive hike. We spent 6 hours hiking and according to our resident director, Fouad, we went 40km, which is a lot. I think we went more like 15 miles. Regardless, it was pretty tough going since we were climbing up mountains essentially. We got some gorgeous views of the surrounding areas and ate lunch on a beautiful sheer cliff. As we worked our way around the mountains Fouad began making a loud kissing noise by essentially kissing his hand loudly. I asked him why he was doing this and he said that he was calling the monkeys. Funny, but I didn’t think much of it and we continued hiking. However, he continued making this noise intermittently for the next five minutes or so until he brought us to a complete stop and started looking around. I asked him what he was doing and he told me “Help me find the monkeys. We are supposed to meet them here.” I thought maybe he was misusing a word in English so I said, “Wait, what do you mean we are supposed to meet the monkeys here?” (side note: as I’m asking him these questions he is crawling around, looking under trees, and searching the branches, presumably for monkeys) He answers me saying, “Didn’t you hear me calling them a couple of minutes ago? I told them to meet us here.” Yea right, okay. You’re pretty funny. How on earth can we “meet” the monkeys at a specific spot? But wouldn’t you know it, he yells out to us and points off into the trees where we see none other than a group of monkeys making their way towards us! I turned to Fouad in utter disbelief and said “No way.” He laughed and promised to do it (talk with the monkeys) on our next hiking trip. It was completely ridiculous.

We spent some time taking pictures of the monkeys and feeding them food from our hands as they were extremely friendly even though we were in the middle of a mountain forest with no one else around. We hiked on a while longer until we arrived at what is known as “the oldest, biggest tree in Morocco.” It was very old and it was very big but it was also very dead. All and all though, it was a great hiking trip and a great cultural experience. I can’t wait to hike Mt. Toubkal, the largest mountain in North Africa (13671ft).

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