from the bottom of the sea to the top of the world

ferry log: 3 hours tariffa to tangier
bus log: 3 hours tangier to Chefchaouen
             3 hours Chefchaouen to Asila
             5 hours Asila to Fes

Boarding the ferry from Tariffa, Spain, I instantly noticed I was in for quite a different cultural experience.  Most on board seemed to be native Moroccans; all others seemed to be just doing  the one day 'morroccan experience'.  Despite my desperate attempts, I was unable to find other backpackers on board, and couldn't decide whether this made me brave or stupid, but I knew I would find out soon enough. 
In Morrocco, the primary language is Arabic, secondary is french; neither of which do I know or have any experience in.  I was told that I would always be able to find someone who speaks english and so far that has been true. Spanish has also come in handy more than expected.  Imagine being fluent in 4 languages!  Someone like that in our country would be considered highly educated and would have no problem finding a prestigious job, yet here, they live in extreme poverty.  Anyhow, thank god for my guidebook!  without it I would be lost.  There are no nice tourist offices here to welcome you, like I had in Spain.  No maps to be passed out, and no suggestions on how to get where and what to see. Its truely trial by error, in the hopes that you get to your destination.  

I exited the ferry and made a beeline for the bus station which was just outside the ferry port.  I'd say it was about a 20 minute walk to exit the port and go through passport control, which really was nothing but for show. I had been warned that the country might not let me in if they saw in my passport that I've been to Israel.  Luckily, they didn't check for this or didn't notice, so I was granted admission without a problem.  On that 20 minute walk, I was accousted and hassled by taxi driver after taxi driver , looking to offer me a ride.  With the border control and guard there though, it felt quite safe.  I eventually got pointed in the right direction and found the bus station.  CTM is the bus line that I was told to use, because they are a government run bus company, and tend to reach their final destinations more accurately and safely than their private competition, though they are a bit more expensive.  There was only 1 bus a day to Chefchaouen, and I was praying that I'd catch it.  Obviously I did. I thought I had missed it when they told me the bus was at 1200 and my watch said 1pm, until they pointed to a clock and I realized I apparently crossed a time zone, and had gained 2 hours.
Waiting for the bus, I had already started to get a sense of what was in store for me.  I had trouble making eye contact with men, or even getting them to respond to a question.  in Islamic culture, women are subservient to men. The y will not aknowledge a woman alone who is not with a man, and some do not believe women should be allowed to speak to men without a 'husband ' present.  In very religious households, women are not allowed to leave the home without her husband being present. If she does, it is grounds for divorce, which is basically a scarlet letter and she most likely won't marry again.  One other solo female traveler told me that the most difficult thing was just wanting a coffee in the morning, and not being able to order one for herself because she could not walk into a restaurant alone, and if she did, she wouldn't get service.  Tangier is a large city, and more European in nature, but I had already started to feel 'less than', which makes it quite intimidating to do anything as a female alone.  Women here dress in a variety of clothing types, as do the men: I see everything from traditional Islamic coverings to your basic teeshirts and jeans on the locals, but nothing is above the knees, and no shoulders are bare.  I would say most are in some form of traditional clothing, with women being completely covered from head to toe, and some include covering their faces and only have a hole for their eyes to see through.  You can imagine that I stick out and attract attention on several accounts: blond hair, blue eyes, wearing shorts and tees and sandals and a baseball cap, and white skin for starters.  Even if I dress in their garb, I would still look like a tourist trying to fit in, which I think would attract even more attention.
Something that was advised to me was to buy a fake wedding ring and wear it during my stay.  this is because Morroccan men tend to view women from america as though we are all prostitutes, because this is what they see of america in the movies they watch.  Atleast with a ring on, I was told I would be treated with more respect, and could have an easy nonverbal excuse to avoid mens flirtations and harrassments; simply by flashing my wedding ring.  I paid 7 bucks for it in MA, and it has already been well worth triple its value.  More on that later...

The currency here is called Dirham. 10 Dirham= 1 Euro.  My hotel is costing me 65 Dirham, which is approx. 6 Euro a night: pretty damn cheap. I have my own room, but share a bathroom.  The toilet in the bathroom is 2 planks that you stand on and hover over a hole in the ground.  Toilet paper is hard pressed to come by.  at least the shower is hot, although when in a desert climate, that becomes less important.  A 5 course meal at a nice restaurant cost me 70 Dhm=7 euro. 
My bus ticket cost me 45 Dhm. plus a 5 Dhm baggage check fee for a 3 hour trip.  I truely began to feel as though I was wearing "less than human". I was getting nasty looks from men and women. Noone sat next to me on the bus, though I was thankful for this.  I felt safe on the bus because I didn't have to watch my bags as much, I didn't have to interact with anyone, and I didn't have to worry about attracting unwanted attention.
about half way through the journey, the bus driver saw a street vendor selling hats, decided he wanted one, and pulled the bus over to check them out.  Keep in mind that this is like a greyhound bus, full of people, and he decides to go shopping; but noone protested. It took him about 20 minutes before he stopped trying them on and bought one, and then returned to the bus to continue the trip. 
The scenary that I've seen so far has been beautiful.  The town I was approaching is popular because it is smaller than most touristy cities, and set at the base of a cliff in the heart of the mountains.  Once we got out of Tangier, ther was literally nothing for hours but rolling hills that grew into mountains, covered in grassy patches, with desert flowers and cacti all around.  Really a stunning topography. 
I was also told by other travelers that I wouldn't need to book a hostel or hotel ahead, as their aren't many hostels in this country, and because when you arrive at a bus station, there is always someone looking for business in their hotel, and they attack you as you get off the bus, shouting prices and trying to strike a deal with you, bargaining offers to get you to stay in their hotel.  This has been my experience in other countries as well.  Actually, I was very surprised to have to be booking ahead hostels for Spain; that was a new travel experience for me.  Sure enough, the second I got off the bus, someone was there trying to strike a deal.  I've also been told that everything is bargainable here, and that you can easily get people down to atleast half of whatever their inital offer is, be it a hotel room, food, or souvenier.  But I think at this point I was so nervous and looking for sanctuary from the onslaught of people that I forgot about this and took the first offer.
upon arriving in Chefcaouen and checking into a hotel, I attempted to navigate the streets and get a sense of direction.  Anytime I walked outside my hotel, I was harrassed by another 'unofficial tour guide', someone wanting to show me around, and then expect me to empty my pockets for their services.  I went around with one of these tour guides initially, as they pose as being so welcoming and friendly, and they shake your hand and tell you how much they appreciate you coming to their country, and they offer you the customary mint tea, and say it would be their pleasure to show you around and how proud they are of their country, and how wonderful it is, and they lead you around the city, introducing you to their 'partners' who own some of the stores, and then drag you into these shops and expect you to put down hundreds of dollars in their store, because you are a 'wealthy american', and they have children to feed.  Moroccans are known as being the best sales people in the world.  They can convince a vegetarian to buy a steak.  And they all have the exact same tactics, and it amazes me how good they are at targeting the tourists.  After I became familiar with their techniques, I'd sit back and watch other tourists fall into their traps and pull out money just to get rid of the 'guide'.  I ended up giving my guide ten american dollars , despite his protests that it wasn't enough for the time he spent with me, showing me around, taking me into the shops, and then he yelled at me because i didn't buy a rug or pair of earrings from the shop owners!  Which meant he wouldn't get a commission.  These men exaust you to the point with their tactics that you become willing to pay them just to get them out of your hair. Once I got rid of him, I retreated to the hotel for a sense of security from the onslaught of men waiting to prey on me outside.  After regrouping, I decided to have a go at it again, and swore to myself that I would just walk alone and not take on another 'guide'. within 5 minutes of leaving the hotel, another guide approached me, promising 'no money, no money; just friendship, no problem'. Very convincing... so I said ok, because I noticed that the local men would back off when I was with a local, as far as them sneering at me or making sexist remarks. So he took me around and showed me some other areas in town, then again came the same tactic- "let me introduce you to some friends in their homes, you see real home. no stores, no buy anything. just hospitality."  And then after meeting this local family who conviently were holding their crying baby at the time, came the sale.  They convinced me to get henna (fake tattoo) done on my arms so that others would think of me as a local and leave me alone, and also that I needed some traditional clothing so that the locals would leave me alone and I wouldn't stick out.  I confidently said no many times, which they 'faked' not understanding, to the point that the woman grabbed my arm and was putting the henna on me, while the other guy was shoving a traditional top into my backpack, and then, because they did me such a favor, they were kind enough to give me a discount and only charge me $300Dhm, or about 50 bucks, for their services, which I felt obligated to hand over in order to get out of their home and be left alone....incredible salesmen.  The entire family is involved in the kill, and no doubt the 'guide' who took me there got some commission for the sale.  And when the whole situation was over, and I had a moment to myself to look back, I realized I had just handed over $50 bucks for a damn tee-shirt that looked NOTHING like what the locals were wearing. And to top it off, none of the locals had henna on them; only the tourists.... UUGH!  Morocco is supposed to be a cheap country to travel in, and it is in terms of hotel rooms and food, but everything else about it, navigating, finding your way around, getting suckered by the locals, is soooo expensive!  Its to the point now that I don't trust any local, because I've even had the experience where I asked someone directions to something, they told me it was around the corner, escorted me there, and then demanded I pay them for their services!!!  I am quickly turned off by this culture and their people. 
Anyhow, after these 2 experiences, I was sooo thankful upon retreating to the hotel again, to find another 'westerner' who was traveling alone, a guy whom I befriended from northern Europe, and we spent the next 2 days together.  Walking with him around the city, my experiences with the locals were TOTALLY different. No one hassled me, pulled me into their stores,  looked at me or made sexist comments when I walked by.  I was respected instantly because others thought we were a couple.  Its amazing the difference in treatment that I recieved just by being escorted by a male.  When we went to eat, he had to order my food for me, or ask questions for me, so that I would get factual answers and the food that I wanted.  I felt much safer walking the streets with him, and we had a great time together. 
Anyhow, that night, we were walking together, and I noticed a familiar face coming my way.. it was one of the volunteers I met when I did Vaughntown in Spain!  Totally random that we would meet up in morocco, but he had recieved a job offer to drive a tour bus around morocco for 20 days, and the tour was currently in the same town.  I told him of my experiences thus far, and he offered to let me join the tour on their way up to Fes, which was the final stop of this tour group.  For a small fee, I happily latched on to this group of 20 college students from all various european countries, and I had 2 days of "safety in numbers " and ease of transportation, which was well worth the price.  Not to mention I got to reconnect with my friend from vaughntown.  The next morning, I checked out of my hotel and boarded the tour group bus for a small beach side town called asila, where we camped on the beach at a campground, and spent the day relaxing and socializing.  It was a great group of people to join, they had all bonded during the past 2 weeks of their tour, and were sad to be going home in 2 days.  They welcomed me very easily into their group, and I had a great time with them and was sad to know they were leaving as well.  The next day, we left Asila, and headed about 5 hours by bus to Fes, which is a whole other story in itself, for the next update.