Finding Casa in Casablanca

The first song I heard in Morocco was Hotline Bling.  While reading travel books and brushing up on traditional Moroccan culture, I missed the chapter that said my classmates would have memorized the words to more U.S. top 40 hits and binged more Netflix series than I have.  This could just mean my TV binging skills aren’t up to standard, but, so far, finding casa in Casablanca has been much easier than Lonely Planet predicted.

That’s not to say life isn’t different here.  Everyday there’s something new to learn from how to cross the road without your life flashing before your eyes to where to find the best hole-in-the wall place for Moroccan breakfast and tea.  Casablanca is a clash of old and new, rich and poor with upscale retail shops and luxury cars just across the street from the Old Medina where cattle roam down the middle of the road.

Our favorite stop during class breaks. A hole-in-the wall breakfast shop selling Moroccan crêpe-like pastries filled with cream cheese and slathered in honey. Served with a hot glass of sweet Moroccan tea with a sugar to tea ratio rivaling U.S. southern sweet tea.  All for just 5 Moroccan Dirhams (DH) or US$ 0.50. 

The other exchange students here are from Singapore, France, Kazakhstan, Martinique, and Canada, and this week the welcome team students took us out for a day of group bonding and touring around the city.  We drove out to a farm for paintball, horseback riding, and racing around a 4 wheeler track, no legal waivers required.  For the city tour we visited the Hassan II Mosque, the third largest in the world, the Old Medina, an old section of the city left from French colonial rule, and the great Morocco Mall.

Taking a break from paintball for bread with honey and Moroccan tea. 

The Hassan II Mosque, built 23 years ago, is the third largest in the world after the Masjid Al-Haram mosques in Mecca and Medina. All the materials used in its construction were sourced from Morocco, and it is the only mosque in Morocco that non-Muslims are allowed to enter.

In front of the Hassan II Mosque. People and stray cats enjoy the shade on the steps.

Our first taste of Moroccan couscous with broth, a plain yogurt drink called “petit lait” or “little milk,” and olives, tomato salad, and burnt eggplant spread appetizers.  Contrary to the descriptions it was all delicious. 

The scuba-divable aquarium in Morocco Mall. The mall has Moroccan, European, and American brands, as well as an IMAX theater and small theme park for kids.  

Exploring the streets of the Old Medina. This is where good bargaining skills come in handy with vendors selling food, clothing, and souvenirs. 

Three symbols often found in the old areas of Moroccan cities signifying God, country, and king. 

Place Mohammed V, otherwise known as Morocco’s Trafalgar Square. Much of it is currently under construction and the fountains are closed due to “winter weather,” but in the summer concerts are held here for the public. For now we'll have to settle with the pigeons for entertainment. 

For 400 MAD a month my roommate and I have joined a gym that offers belly dancing and aerobics classes, only one of which I’ve been confident enough to participate in, and a range of workout machines.  Women are allowed to use the gym on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and men go on the alternate days, except for Sunday.  It’s also easy to find a Hammam, a Moroccan style spa, where for just 100 MAD you can lay out in the sauna room, get an exfoliating scrub that takes the top layer of your skin off, and relax with a thirty minute massage from women whispering incessantly in Arabic with each other. 

Our local fruit vendor. Whole Foods organic quality at a fraction of the cost, but if you stop by in the evening you may have to haggle with the vendor’s father for a reasonable price.   

Moroccans are the best aggressive drivers I’ve ever seen, and traffic signs as well as lanes are all just taken as a suggestion here.  Seat belts are also optional or nonexistent, but at a certain point you reach a calm state of putting your life into your taxi driver’s hands.  There are also no cross walks or signals to be found. When crossing a busy street you first edge out into traffic and make confident eye contact with the car coming toward you.  Hopefully it’ll slow down and then you can speed across the road and hope the other cars take its lead in not running you over.

Casablanca keeps you on your toes and your head turning in all different directions, if only to avoid getting run over.  Stay tuned for more food, cities, adventure, and, as always, S’Moroccan stories.