TANGIER Day 2
Don't bogart that joint my friend... Moroccans seem to like that song. Casablanca-Humphrey bogart
Hit up the 2 "famous" cafes today - Cafe tijis for some coffee, which was good but more about the experience of just sitting outside talking and watching everything happening, buyers and sellers, tourists and locals, kids and really old folk, traditional clothes and crazy European styles, colors... Then the Rolling Stones' old hang out Cafe baba where there was mint tea and way
More smoke
We returned later for the "famous" tortilla sandwich sold across from the cafe in a little stall by this old guy. It's a Spanish style tortilla, which is like a scrambled egg and potato omelet. If you want to see what I'm talking about just check out the Anthony Bourdain episode from tangier.
I had the good luck of befriending a few of the people at the hostel who have been in Morocco for a while including Shannon who is a French Canadian and was a great unofficial guide. Also Ayoub who grew up here and runs the hostel came out with us both nights. They explained a lot about the culture and lifestyle. I have basically been tagging along with them and it has helped make the transition to Morocco a little easier.
It really is like nothing I have experienced. The medina is as confusing as they say it is. I almost think I have it figured out and then I'm lost again. The languages are all confusing to me- Moroccan Arabic, French, and then when they speak Spanish I don't realize it cause of the accent. Except the younger generation, they usually speak all of the above and English.
One of our companions wanted a tagine, but it was late for that. A tagine is a stew slow cooked for hours. When you go for tagine they should have have them sitting there cooking already and you just walk up and check out which one you want and ask how much. We went searching by the Grand Soco, like a plaza, and the guys from the restaurant all wave you over. Shannon went in to inspect, asked the guy if they had tagine and the guy said "we can make you a tagine in a few minutes". So Shannon said no thanks (this was mostly in French or Arabic)
The guy was holding onto shannons arm and the other guys were all trying Very hard to get us to stay. We decided to go, it was too much.
The Bathrooms. Showers are just part of the room here at the hostel, some faucets better placed than others. There's a drain on the floor. When you take a shower, you end up soaking the toilet. Cafe Baba just had a floor piece thingy with a hole and some foot spots, stand or squat, there is no sit. I really don't want to take bathroom pics.
The evening prayers are best heard from the upper terrace of the hostel, i have figured out. Up here one can hear multiple towers broadcasting the prayers, coming in and out at different times, sometimes from what must be miles away. They all crescendo and rise in pitch, making the whole thing sound intense and surreal, then you hear them trailing off further and further away into the distance. Cool
There's also other sounds; roosters in the morning , children playing games and babies crying, cars, sirens (not very often for such a large dense city) merchants hawking foods, people haggling over some deal or who knows what most of the time. Cats meowing, and birds. And as I am writing this late Saturday night on the terrace looking out over the rooftops of the medina I hear music in the far distance which remind me of the horns of Joujouka maybe performing a Sufi prayer. And the smells of spices and foods both fresh and cooked , all mingling in the air. I can see how so many people get stuck here. And I see why the poets and artists and writers all flocked to Tangier.
