Essaouira

Essaouira is a chill port city about 2 1/2 hours west of Marrakesh. We stayed in a fantastic apartment in the middle of the medina for 2 1/2 weeks and besides the big problem with internet being slow and at times non-existent, it was perfect. 

I really liked seeing the same people everyday and building relationships because we were there for such a long time. I cannot tell you how many times I declined an offer to come into a shop and sit and drink tea or coffee. I honestly became friends with the man who we ordered take home tajine from. We would play with the same kids on our apartment street. We often ate dinner at a restaurant full of locals that served soup and a honey tortilla for 70 cents. When food is that good and cheap, why take the time to cook at home? Everyday, Colin would always get a cookie or ham from the crêperie ladies. I loved going to the same fruit and vegetable stands or seeing the smile of the adorable old man who I bought my eggs from. He spoke limited French so we had fun communicating about how many eggs I wanted. I got to give him a few French lessons and I learned some Arabic sometimes. I heard "mafi mushkila" a lot, which means "no problem." If I didn't have enough money he would just let me pay him next time. 

I kind of dreaded going out to get lunch every day because it meant more guys would talk to me and say things like "very nice" as they walked by me. There is something about walking around with a baby that repels those comments. One time a man found out I was American and told me he was looking for an American wife. I told him I was married and he replied that it wasn't a problem and that I can have multiple husbands. He informed me that he had a house with land and horses. I declined his offer as he told me to think about it.

Anyway...

The city of Essaouira was built in the late 1700's as an international trading post between Saharan Africa and Europe.

It was a big hippy hangout where Bob Marley, Cat Stevens, and Jimi Hendricks often stayed. It is a town of artists and musicians. There was often Rasta music and Gnawa (music of the ancient original inhabitants of north and west africa ) music to be heard on the streets. Colin got to play and learn about a lot of new instruments like the 3 string Gnawa lute called a "Gimbri" and of course the characteristic african drum, the djembe.

The port area was incredible. If it hadn't been for the strong odor of fish, I would have hung out there every day.

Here men are gutting and preparing the fish, while the seagulls circle, waiting for some discarded remains.

Because of the wind patterns here, it is always windy and a great surf spot. The rocky coast was breathtaking. When the weather was bad, the waves got huge and watching them collide with the rocks was incredible. I had never seen such a force of nature and just stared at it for at least 30 minutes. It was kind of terrifying to think about actually being in that water at that time. Of course my mind went directly to how Jesus is our rock and if we are built upon him, nothing can destroy that foundation. Andrew read in Moby Dick about how if you live by a sea, it is inevitable that you will go and just look at it. I thought about how that is so true about the ocean. It is just being and yet I am so drawn to the natural ebb and flow of its movement.

These are the fortified ramparts that give you incredible views of the rocky sea.

The rest of the photos are just from our wanderings around the city.

These are some Moroccan dirhams. 400 dirhams is roughly equivalent to 40 euros.

You could actually go explore the rocks on the coast, so we did some snail hunting.

Look closely at this tile collage for a special Essaouira treat.

The beach area was nice but it was too cold to go in.

Stories

Every day, we were approached by men selling cookies and while they tell you about their "cookies" and you say no, their words drift off as they quickly chime in that they have hashish if you want some. By the time you turn around to see if you really heard what you did, they are gone. It was hilarious to hear people walk up behind you and sometimes just whisper, "Hashish?" and then walk off. What wasn't funny was that many times they guilt trip you if you didn't want to buy a cookie. One guy told us it was like I put a gun to his sister's head and shot her. We are still too polite with people and say "I'm sorry you feel that way" before walking away.

 In being in Morocco, I think I am learning to be more rude to people when they cross lines. I haven't really experienced being pushed to the brink too much in my life so I am not sure how to react. I am also way too nice and understanding of a person. Since I have a lot of encounters with strangers and people trying to get me to buy something, I have found a need to stand up for myself more often and get tough. One time in Marrakesh, a guy tried to get us to eat at his restaurant by picking Colin up and taking him over to his restaurant through a crowded walkway. We were not happy and gave him a firm "no" and look of discontent, but looking back I wish I could have chewed him out for that. There were so many things wrong with that.

Many times we ate the same thing from a take away spot and one day, the meat did not taste as good. That night Colin had thrown up in his crib. the next night I threw up 7-8 times, and then the next night Andrew threw up. Food poisoning took up our last 4 days. I have never experienced that and I remember telling Andrew that being horribly nauseous for 9 hours straight was worse than labor. I will never eat meat that tastes funny again. I think that was a good lesson to learn in the beginning of our travels around the world.

 Essaouira is definitely on our list of places to come back to. The allure of the old fortified medina on the rocky coast is inescapable.