Now, off to the ever so multifaceted somewhat bizarre city of Amsterdam. On one hand, it is quant and beautiful with its canals and charming buildings all lined up full of history and art. Naturally, the other aesthetic involves prostitutes and sex-shops, which I suppose has an interesting cultural contribution as well.
When we arrived, it was raining-which seems to be the theme of my last few trips. Although, it seemed oddly appropriate. Katherine, Margo, and I marveled in the rows of houses and shops and canals, all I can say is it is absolutely adorable. That is, until we made our way to our Hostel which was smack dab in the middle of the Red Light district. For whatever reason, I don’t find adorable to be the appropriate word for that. Bizarre even seems to fall short, but I will say it was extremely interesting, weird, funny, sad and basically any other adjective I can think of. Something I can’t really begin to understand, but I do see the justifications for legalization to an extent…but I’ll reserve that discussion for another time.
Katherine and I have actually had an interesting opportunity to get a little more incite on the Dutch people. We have two roommates, both our age, from the Netherlands. As they are, according to wikipedia, not only some of the tallest in the world, but also the happiest-we chose to pick their brains a bit and get a few tips. For one, despite the novelty of legalized marijuana and other such things for tourists alike (Amsterdam basically consisted of tourists, from what I saw), it doesn’t seem to have the same appeal for the Dutch. I actually just read an article that they are one of the or the European country with the lowest percentage of smokers, which I suppose is one of the main objectives of legalization. Neither of my roommates smoke, and I think it is safe to say they have never taken advantage of the legal prostitution either.
Despite the liberal label stamped on Holland, they obviously don’t all adhere to that. Actually, interestingly enough our roommates are relatively conservative in how they dress. They say they are shocked at how revealing a lot of American and Spanish girl’s clothes are when they go out.
One of the most striking differences we got to talking about is in regards to schooling. In all honesty I don’t actually understand how it works, but it is something like from a young age they are placed in certain levels based on a test and general ability and it kind of dictates what you can do for an occupation and what type of schooling you can ultimately do. The biggest feature that contrasts with academics of the United States is that you ultimately only try to pass. They were explaining to us that even if you do not pass, you have a few more opportunities to do so, so it is not a big deal. This may have something to do with the fact that their schooling costs significantly less than ours, but regardless, no wonder they are the happiest people (or the 3rd). There is little competitiveness and they did not even know the english world “prestige”. It is actually kind of refreshing, and Katherine and I are rather jealous. They thought it pretty humorous I complained about getting a B in something. We are all, after all, just products of our culture.
Now that we have all been filled in on some fun facts, I did actually do things in Amsterdam other than frequent coffee shops and the red light district.
The first day, we wandered through the city, which is quite manageable to navigate…and that is coming from me. The most difficult aspect was knowing where to stand as to not get mauled by bikers-another thing that makes it a wonderful city. Although, we didn’t get the opportunity to ride any bikes it just added to the appeal.
Our biggest priority was to see the Anne Frank House, and the wait in the cold was well worth it. After having learned about it for so many years it was kind of surreal to actually see it in person. When they were betrayed, all of the furniture was removed, and upon returning and granting permission to turn it into a museum Otto Frank wanted it to remain that way, but through out there are portions of Anne’s diary and explanations of the story and video interviews of Miep Geis. No matter how many times you hear the story, it is always so devastating, and I think for anyone visiting Amsterdam, it is really important to see this…
What was especially struck was learning about the efforts of Otto Frank. After having lost his entire family, I was in awe by how much he accomplished. Not only in publishing his daughters diary and defending it through the years, but also in his support for the thousands of people that wrote to him and his work in promoting culture understanding. I just don’t know if I could ever have the heart or endurance after having experience everything he has. …his character is so amazing. I thought this was a really interesting story/ interview: http://www.annefrank.org/content.asp?PID=802&LID=2
The next day, we went to the Van Gogh Museum. The art in itself is cool to see, but my favorite part was seeing how it evolved with his state of mind, as there are so many speculations on his mental healthy. It is also really interesting to see how varied his pieces are. I know so little about art, so I lack any intellectual commentary, but I think I liked his landscapes the most..I guess he really enjoyed painting workers in fields and such. I would have liked to see Starry Night, as that is one of the few that I am really familiar with, but that is apparently in New York. Regardless, definitely an interesting museum to see, and it is huge-like 4 stories, he was pretty busy throughout his life time I suppose.
Our final little cultural destination (with maybe not quite the same educational value as the other two) was the Heineken Factory. As I don’t particularly like beer, and this is the only type I even remotely like, I was kind of excited. It wasn’t quite as intense as the Guinness Factory in Dublin but still pretty cool. Highlights involved Dutch music videos we were able to make as well as a digital experience of being brewed-this involved being splashed by water and moving stairs, and of course Heineken beer. We enjoyed our status of being girls, and received quite a few glasses, so we enjoyed ourselves.
Overall, it was a really good trip. Although I didn’t particularly enjoy the touristy aspect of Amsterdam, it had so many redeeming qualities that made up for it. I think thus far, my favorite parts of Europe have been in Northern Europe. This also may be contributed by the fact that my blonde hair doesn’t glaringly stand out, but regardless it made me really want to see the rest of Holland and its neighboring countries. It appears I have much more traveling ahead of me, guess I should start saving now.
The last two weekends have provided a wide variety of traveling experiences, to say the least -Morocco and Amsterdam are quite a juxtaposition. My first destination, Morocco, is still very much a conservative, predominately Muslim society struggling with the tension between tradition and the influences of western culture. This is in contrast with Holland, one of the most liberal countries in Europe, distinguishable by its legal prostitution, canals, and streets fragrant with mary-jane. Of course, I’m going to talk about them separately, but there is nothing like witnessing such stark cultural differences in one week. Took a bit to wrap my head around all of it.
I’ll go ahead and say Morocco was one of the best things I have ever done-Kind of one of those things you know will stay with you forever…
A group of about 25 kids from my school went to Morocco through a group called “Morocco Exchange.” Our leaders were former members of the Peace Corps who had volunteered in Morocco and so they were fluent in Arabic (or the local dialect of it, anyway). The trip’s purpose was to increase cultural awareness and communication. We were able to stay in home-stays and were really exposed to the culture, so you can imagine I was very excited, but it far exceeded my expectations. This will inevitably be a long post because the trip was packed, but in a good way.
After an 8 hour bus ride over night, we took a ferry over to Tangier. After the long journey, we were excited to finally step onto African soil. yes, in AFRICA. so crazy.
We immediately delved into the culture. Upon arrival, we went to a DARNA a Women’s center, where women who are either homeless or have been marginalized by society (such as women who became pregnant out of wedlock) go to learn skills that will help them support themselves and their children. There, we had the opportunity to talk to three students who were our age and volunteered there.
As this was our first contact with Moroccans, we were kind of tip toeing around issues at first, but they were very open and overall did not hold back much. The girl was clearly a little more conservative, as she described why she wore her hijab, or head scarf, and how wearing a flashy or bright colored one defeats the purpose. Many women in Morrocco don’t wear them, but of course it depends on where you are. The more rural areas haven’t been as exposed to western ideals or cultures and tend to stick to this tradition. She said it was completely her choice, and from a young age she knew she wanted to wear one, so she could always represent her religion.
One of the most interesting conversations we had with them involved the practice of dating. Technically, dating is frowned upon and is not permitted by parents, but it still goes on behind there backs fairly readily. There is a double standard, though, as the boys explained. They both date, but they said that they want to marry a woman who has not dated. Pretty interesting…I can’t help but wonder what they would think of the hook up culture within college students in the States. They were very curious about what we were anticipating in terms of Moroccan culture and Moroccan people in general. It was actually kind of embarrassing to admit how little we did know. They know so much about us, and our culture, and well everything. I would say a majority of Moroccans know Arabic (or a dialect), French, and a little English or Spanish. To be honest, all this traveling has just furthered how ignorant I feel as an American.
During the meeting, this was also our first exposure to Moroccan Tea. Once you’ve tried it, you will never be the same. It is basically a staple of their daily rituals and is absolutely delicious. It is just green tea with mint and entirely too much sugar, and I can even begin to talk about how much everyone raved about it.
We had a delicious lunch, and I can’t actually remember what it entailed, but all I know is Moroccan food is splendid, and I want to cook it as soon as I return…or have my parents cook it anyway.
Next, we drove to the little town of Asilah which is along the Atlantic Coast. On the way we caught a glimpse of the Shantytowns. Which are even more sobering then you would expect, even from a distance. Despite the relative wealthiness we would soon witness in our homestays-poverty is a huge issue in morocco, inevitably leading to these shanty towns, as almost 9% of the capital cities inhabitance are in them. We were told that these are the social conditions that often lead to Islamic extremism. The article we read said Morocco has not had a huge problem with this, but it could be right on the brink as it told of a suicide bomber who had lived in a single room with 8 others in his family. It was really all pretty eye-opening. The most recent King is making efforts to end these living conditions and thwart poverty, but I am not sure how successful he has been.
Along our drive we also got a pleasant surprise. Camel Rides! Ok, to be honest, riding a camel is a little anti-climatic, but we were still all very excited regardless. One of those things where our trip would have not felt complete with out it. They are pretty funny creatures.
We later arrived to the beautiful town of Asilah. It still blows my mind how such beauty coexists so closely with such poverty and suffering. The town itself was basically closed down for the season, so it was vacant, which only added to the effect. Everything was blue and white and there were art murals all over. We wandered through the Medina (the old city) and made our way to the edge that looked over the coast. The crashing waves on the rocks next to the white buildings made for some not too shabby scenery.
Finally, we made our way to our homestays. We were quickly briefed on a few key words to know. First was the greeting: “Salam uaalikum” which means, hello, peace be upon you, and the answer “WaalikumSalam”, which means hello, and also on you peace. I feel this common phrase embodies what I came to understand as Moroccan Hospitality and warmth (Southern Hospitality has nothing on them). Every single person I met there was truly welcoming and loving.
Honestly, the only thing I came into Morocco thinking was that there would inevitably be anti-Western sentiments maybe because of our ideals, but also because how our Government and media has treated the Islamic world. Instead, we found people were very curious about us and were above all eager to reverse and stereotypes we had of them. When I mentioned during one conversation about what I expected, he told me, of course they do not necessarily support our governments actions, but people understand that they do not reflect the beliefs or wishes of all the people in the United States. This is an obvious statement, but it is sad to think how often in the States this mentality is not quite the case. It is so often that we see people only associate Muslims with terrorism because of the acts of a few, so having him say this was so refreshing and only made me appreciate the Moroccan people even more.
I’d say the other most crucial word we learned was”shbaat,” which means “enough.” I’d say a main attraction of the trip was the abundance of Moroccan food, and they loved feeding us (I know, right up my alley) . Me and the two other girls I stayed with all agreed we have quite literally never eaten that much in our lives. As a sign of hospitality they feed you, so our house Mom kept insisting “kool! kool!” “eat! eat!”. One of the girls was vegetarian, so we were served cooked veggies and soups and cous-cous, and my new found love: pomegranates, for dessert. All of this talk is making me want to go back, immediately.
Interesting side note, they often all eat out of one bowl, and you just stick to your part. They also only use their right hand for eating and touching food. This would be because they use their left one as a substitute for toilet paper, for a lack of a better phrase. Although, for a part of the trip they had toilet paper. I wasn’t sure if it was for our sack or theirs. I wasn’t about to ask.
The family was very nice, although they did not speak a lot of English, so we were a bit limited. They are also hosting an American boy, who showed us around the Medina. He tried to convince us to have snail soup, which literally consists of a bowl of snails you suck out. We passed. He told us that our family is actually a very political family. The daughter’s husband was a diplomat who had greeted Hilary Clinton when she came. This explains why their house was pretty nice and spacious. They are really into decorating, so everything was very ornate and the walls had sparkles on it. Much as you would expect it.
Moroccan families are very close-knit, and families usually stay together. Where as my family is spewed across the United States in Colorado, Georgia, and Ohio, from what I grasped that is not common. As the students mentioned the day before, even for those who travel or move to make money, there is a constant need to be back with their mothers. One of the them said after a few days of not seeing her, he had to go back, it is an obligation. They said they did not really know how to explain it.
That night we were so exhausted from the traveling busy day we went to bed at 930, the screaming 2 year old made it up past us.
We woke to a breakfast of about every variation of bread you could as for. They enjoy their bread. At the risk of being repetitive, it was delicious and so very filling. That morning we got to roam around some ancient Roman ruins. It is insane how much influence from other cultures there are in Morocco. From the Romans to an Islamic Regime and in recent centuries both France and Spain had from my understanding basically colonized it, and it was an International state. Amazingly enough it did not get its independence but just over 50 years ago, so these European influences are very apparent, particularly the Spanish because of its proximity-It is only 14 km from Morocco!
The ruins were very cool to see, pictures of course will be provided. You can see additions from the Muslims as well. There was also a little pool with eels. It was said if a woman threw an egg in and an eel ate it she would get pregnant (The symbolism is pretty obvious). There were also cats everywhere, which provided much entertainment as there was a girl who was deathly (or dramatically) scared of cats.
We then we finally got some quality Moroccan shopping in with three other girls, accompanied by a couple of Moroccan students. Everything is so cheap, naturally, it was a big trip, but as there are many gifts involved I can not divulge. It was really cool to spend some one-on-one time with the students. The girl was really spunky and hilarious. She was extremely disappointed when we told her Ashton Kutcher was married, and the guy and I shared some of our favorite music. He knew more American music than I did (and not just the radio stuff that is unfortunately so popular in the discotecas. He also told me about all the great surfing spots in Morocco. After we had spent so much time focusing on our cultural differences the first day, it was cool to see our similarities. We all were, after all, just college students.
The evening proved to be a particularly interesting one. We all went to the Hammam, which for those who don’t know is a public bath. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this. Armed with buckets, special olive soap, and scrubbers, we stripped down to just our bottoms, and went into a room with about 30 other women. What an experience, to say the least. I’ll spare you all of our bathing details but I did also receive the most interesting massage of my life. Quite a peek into a common practice within their society. Not too bad either. Because of the sandpaper like scrubber, I can say my skin has ever been quite that soft. The evening culminated with yet another delicious meal and a very tired Sarah from another packed but equally as enlightening day.
Our final day, we left our home-stays with much a full belly and many a shukuran (thank you!). We voyaged out to a much more remote, rural town in the Rif Mountains. As we drove through the country side it was an entirely different perspective. There was obviously a deep contrast between their lives and those of the families we had been staying with. I almost became nostalgic for Ohio scenery after seeing all of the rolling farm hills.
We drove a few hours out and then hiked about 20 minutes up to a house amongst the mountains. The surroundings were unreal, and hopefully I have some good pictures to relay how truly beautiful it was. As it was a rural area, the family did not know English, so we had a translator. The translator was actually one of the sons who had left the area for education, and is now currently getting his Phd. This was one of the most worth while experiences of the trip.
Although the family had seen hundreds of students like us in the past 5 years, they treated us like we were our first. Through the translator, they asked us question after question, wanting to know where we were going to school what we were studying. It was really interesting to see all generations from a 2-year-old to the Grandmother in one room interacting. They themselves had just gotten electricity a few years back and so had not been exposed to as much Western culture. The women’s clothing was very traditional, and of course they did not know English. Their livelihood is based on farming, and I may be wrong on this, but I think it is mainly olive trees.
The translator at one point became very embarrassed, as the men kept speaking over his sister. He said he did not want us to see aspect of their patriarchal society, he was very ashamed of it. Although, to be honest I found everyone likes to talk over everyone no matter what. Our leader told us this is common and not necessarily considered rude.
As for the translator, although he is very educated it will be difficult for him to both find a job and acquire a visa because it has become nearly impossible after 9/11. But he seemed adamant that he could never return to the lifestyle of his family after having been exposed to so much education and possibilities-it was really kind of sad.
They fed a huge bowl of cous-cous and pomegranates, and it got to the point to where I decided I might have eaten enough for the rest of my life. Except, apparently not, because as I write this I am eating a pomegranate right now-something I will definitely miss. During said food-coma, we had the opportunity to watch them perform some typical Moroccan music with singing and drums. It was awesome to hear, and they unfortunately had to ruin it by trying to teach our over-stuffed, uncoordinated American selves how to dance. We failed miserably, but it was still fun.
We walked back through the small village they were closest too, and everyone looked at us pretty curiously. The kids would run out of their doors staring. Some even dared to say, “hi!” It was pretty cute. The little red-headed (I was surprised too) Moroccan children are especially adorable.
After additional bussing along, we made it to our final destination: Chefchaouen (not as intimidating of a name as it looks). This city is known for being the safe haven for both Jews and Moors during the Spanish Reconquista. It was seized by Spain in 1920, but, of course, Morocco got it back when it gained Independence. It is a beautiful city amongst mountains with narrow alley-ways painted and blues and whites. It is also, unfortunately, very touristy. This came to our benefit, though, when it came to bargaining because not only did they speak French and Arabic, but Spanish too! Never have I ever been so happy to hear Spanish. We wandered the streets checking out all of the scarfs, rugs, bowls, and whatever other trinkets they tried to convince us to buy.
After delighting in all our new Moroccan goodies, we had our final celebration dinner. The dinner was delicious, and once again I wish I could remember what it was called, but it was like this sweet chicken dish. I’ve just come to learn that when it comes to Moroccan food you can’t go wrong. I haven’t at least. We then huddled up on the rooftop of our hostel and just reflected on our trip. It was truly amazing, and I don’t think any of what I said did it justice. The Moroccan people were some of the most heart-warming I have ever come across, and I would love to go back someday and meet more people as well as learn more about their culture.
The final morning, we said our farewell to Morocco with a final brisk hike up to a Spanish Cathedral that overlooked over all of Chefechaouen. I feel like anything I say at this point is going to be inevitably cheesy, but it was a perfect way to end things. I have never felt so fortunate. There is so much beauty that Morocco has to offer, but also so much sadness. I think it also reinforced my thoughts that I want to spend time in a developing country be it teaching English or volunteering in some way. With that I’ll leave you with a quote because this is entirely too long-it may be corny, but Alisha, our guide from the Peace Corps gave it to us, and I liked it, so here it is.
“Don’t ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive, and go do that, because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”
I’m a bit behind, but I have kind of come to the conclusion I will never catch up considering I haven’t even posted anything about Spain, and that is where I’m living…oops, sorry Mom.
Anyway, I went to Greece two weekends ago, hence the title. The weather provided a bit of a deterrent for any excessive site seeing, so I can’t say it was my most productive trip, but we enjoyed ourselves regardless. My friends, Katherine and Margo, and I arrived in Athens later in the day Friday, so we immediately sought after some Greek cuisine.
(Note: this is your chance to skip this next paragraph, more about my ravenous eating habits, my apologies.)
I’ll just go ahead and sum up my food experience ahead of time. As soon as we ventured out into the streets we were coerced into eating at a restaurant by an especially aggressive waiter. It must have been fate that brought us to him because we immediately became chummy and ate there the rest of the weekend. In short we had stuffed peppers, asparagus soup, chicken kebabs, gyros, a plethora of fetta cheese, and our at our most glutenous hour a waffle with three scoops of ice cream, hot fudge, whipped cream, and a brownie, because we couldn’t say no-oh and more fetta. I’d like to say I describe all of this because these delectable meals added to the authenticity of our trip and my blog would not be complete without it. This could be true. But the reality is that I want to prepare everyone for the over-sized Sarah that will be turning in just five short weeks. I fear the shock.
Now to the important stuff. As I mentioned, the ferocious winds slowed us down a bit (Margot weights about 100 pounds, so it was a bit of a hazard), but we were able to make it to the Acropolis pre-rain, and the clouds actually provided a stellar backdrop for the ruins. Acropolis literally means “high city,” and usually provides a save-haven to the inhabitance around it. There are obviously other acropolises in the world, but only the one in Athens is known as “The Acropolis”. It is a flat rock 490 feet above sea level and the rest of Athens, and it of course provides a rather spectacular view.
At the Acropolis were able to see the theater of Herod Atticus, the Parthenon, the Nike Athena temple, the Erecthion, and probably more things I don’t know the names of. From what I gathered, since their erection in the 5th century BC (crazy, I know) they have been destroyed and rebuilt and destroyed and rebuilt, etc. Of course, in my utmost laziness I’m going to direct anyone with further interest in the actual history and background to Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_acropolis.
One little fun fact, though. There is “entasis” in the columns or small “bulge” meaning none of them are completely straight up and down. Apparently there are arguments as to why there are no straight lines, but it may have been for a reverse optical illusion effect. Parallel lines give an optical illusion of a bow when intersected by converging lines, so they may have been counteracting that. Those ancient Greeks were really thinkers.
They were truly amazing though. The only disappointment was that there was scaffolding all over the place for a little refurbishing to fix the last attempt at redecorating-apparently it did not go so well. It did not stop us though. We tried to to maintain some degree of normalcy while we scampered around the ruins, but we honestly had too much fun. Definitely worth a visit for anyone in Greece!
As the storm rolled in, we made our way to the brand new Acropolis museum. The set-up was really cool. It was actually built over ruins, and the floors were clear so you could see them underneath you. Perrty neat. You also got a glimpse at what the reconstructed statues and details of the parthenon and other structures would look like. It is a little empty, because apparently the rest of the artifacts are found in the British museum, which seems rather silly.
The rest of the day involved some temperamental weather, so we went to a movie, which involved a nice little jaunt through Athens. I’ll go ahead and say it is an ugly city with a plethora of sex stores, but I wasn’t really expecting much, and I’m sure someone out there may appreciate what it has to offer in that respect.
Moving on to Sunday. It was a bit struggle, but a successful one at that. If we didn’t get lost, I wouldn’t consider it traveling. We basically went on a scavenger hunt across Athens to find the bus to take us to Sounion where the Temple of Poseidon is. Naturally this took us 3 hours because we missed the first one, but it allowed for some excessive eating, and the wait was worth it.
The bus trip may have actually been the best part, partially because it shielded us from the wrath of the clouds, but we also caught a glimpse of some unreal scenery. We drove along the coast for about 2 hours. The sun began to peak out from the brooding clouds, and I swear it looked like the heavens were opening up. There were sharp rays hitting the bright blue of the Mediterranean-well, you’ll just have to look at the pictures.
The actual Temple was pretty impressive as well. It was up on a cliff looking over the Mediterranean, so you can’t go wrong with that. We were wimps and could only handle the smacking winds for 25 minutes, but it was still quite an experience. Of course, pictures will be provided.
The rest of the evening involved hanging out at our hostel’s bar and reminiscing about our time. Overall it was a good experience, and we even made some 27-year-old Aussie friends along the way, so you cannot go wrong with that. I’m already pondering the next time I’ll go back- and after catching a glimpse of the god-like qualities of the coast, I might have to check out the islands.
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