Middle East Again: First Three Stops

(more pictures on the way!)

Morocco

After touching down in Morocco I took a taxi straight to the first school visit rather than going to the hotel first. There was a beautiful sunrise as we drove through the farmland towards Casablanca, but unfortunately my camera was packed and in the trunk. I arrived at the American school about thirty minutes before the rest of the group. This tour of the Middle East is with USEG, a group that I have travelled with more than once in the past. In fact, one of the organizers is Mike, the old geezer that joined me for my 30th birthday in Central America last summer. Mike has his own blog here.

After the school visit, we had the rest of the day off. A group of us decided to take the 2pm tour of the Hassan II Mosque, the third largest mosque in the world, and the largest mosque open to infidels (the other two are in Saudi Arabia). Though third in overall size, this mosque has the highest minaret in the world.

Done with the mosque, it was time for a little shopping. We went to the Habous, a souk built by the French. I bought several gift items and a cool French art deco poster advertising their North African colonies as travel destinations (link). Of course I knew that it was foolish to buy an item like this so early in the trip, but it was a damn cool poster – I could just see it framed in my apartment.



Dinner was at a traditional restaurant near the corniche. It took the traditional four hours. I enjoy a long dinner if I’m at an outdoor location, with friends, such as back in the fall at Thessaloniki (see earlier post), but stuck inside a smoky room small talking with new acquaintances – that shit drives me crazy.

A few people were going out after dinner, but I went straight to bed. I’ve seen plenty of Russian hookers over the past three years.

Though I woke up at 7 and had an early breakfast with Mike, we waited too long to check bus schedules and missed the 8:30. It was our intention to visit the city of El Jadida, about 90kms south along the African coast. The modern tourist city is built around a 17th century Portuguese trading fortress of Mazagan that is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The next bus was at 10:30, so we had some time to kill.

First we entered the Sheraton, which I have stayed in before and is right next to the bus station. Some back-story: as I was watching Syriana I had a massive stab of deja-vu during the kidnapping scene that is supposed to take place in Beirut. Never having been kidnapped (yet, knock on wood) I figured it must be from the surroundings. Of course, the scene was not filmed in Lebanon. Watching the credits, I saw that some of the movie was filmed in Casablanca. I guessed it must have been at the Sheraton. We first inquired at the reception desk. The lady there did not speak very good English, and as we had also just asked questions about the bus schedules, I believe she thought we were looking for a bus to Syria. She gave us an emphatic “No, no.” Next we tried the bartender at the lobby lounge. “Yes, yes,” he replied, polishing a tumbler, “Meester George Clooney, here, here.” He pointed to an area right next to us, then towards the elevators. Ah-ha! I was right.

Seeing as we still had over an hour, we decided to have a bit of a walkabout and look for Rick’s Café. We meandered through the old souk, or medina, which eventually spat us out on a boulevard that skirted the port facilities. We walked all the way to the mosque and realized we’d gone too far. Backtracking along the boulevard, we discovered that we’d missed Rick’s just as we exited the medina. It was closed at the time, but we took a couple of pictures. We walked back a different path through the medina, but began to run short of time, so hopped in a taxi (which are pretty cheap here – for the shabby “petit” taxis). We got back to the bus station just in time.


The ride to El Jadida was very pleasant – through the same rolling green farmland of the coastal plain that I’d seen on the ride from the airport. Not what you typically think of when envisioning the Middle East and certainly not a part of Morocco that was featured in the recent movie Babel. From the station it was easy enough to wander our way to the oceanfront promenade, and then on to the old city which was visible a bit further on. Inside the old walls was a pleasant jumble of buildings. We scaled the walls at the port fortifications and walked all the way around the bastions and ramparts. This is not one of those sites that is micro-managed. It was free-range. On the west side we were able to observe a game of soccer being played by the local kids in the shadow of the walls. When they noticed us they stopped playing and tried to show us who could do the longest handstand. They though we were Spanish tourists, so we yelled some español back at them so they wouldn’t be disappointed. Our ramblings done, we tried to grab some lunch at a beachside café, but the service was way too casual and we were on a time-table, so we got up before ordering and just bought some snacks near the station. We caught the 2:15 back to “Casa,” as the locals call it. The ride both ways cost less than 10 bucks.

Back at our hotel, our briefings started at 4:00. However, I noticed that my boxes were not present, so some investigating ensued. Turns out they were delivered, but to the Sheraton, where we had just been a few hours ago. After much cajoling, I was allowed to look around their offices, where I found my lonely box sitting in the corner of the office belonging to the event planner. She thought it was an early delivery for another college fair that would be taking place there in a few weeks. I huffed it back to my own hotel. Now I definitely needed a shower, immediately, so I was forced to skip the remaining briefing, but made it to the fair itself on time.

After the fair, straight to packing and then bed. Tomorrow was a 5am wake-up. Ugh!


Transit Woes

The short version: I forgot my airline tickets.

The long version:
At the Casablanca airport, I had trouble checking in to my Milan flight (we had to connect there for Amman, Jordan). The ticket guy was a real jerk. He said that I should have a paper ticket. I said that I was supposed to have an e-ticket. He said that my agent must have made a mistake. He would not print me a new ticket, even though I had all the ticket info. I was forced to buy another ticket, as it was way too early to call said agent. Joseph, the tour organizer and friend of the agent, said not to worry – we’d fix it later. Some in the group had paper tickets, other were issued e-tickets.

In Milan, I had similar problems. I insisted that I had an e-ticket. No, they said, I should have paper tickets. Though still early in the states, it was not outlandish to call the agent. Yes, it seems, I was supposed to have paper tickets, which the agent sent to my office and had tracking info for. I called my office. Yes, the tickets were there, still in the FedEx package, amidst a pile of other files and papers on my desk. They were delivered while I was still in France, and during the two weeks that I was in the office, I had totally overlooked them.

In my defense:
1) I was very busy during those two weeks, both with work (catch up from the France trip, preparing for the Middle East trip, and juggling a group of 13 international guests visiting the campus) and with facets of my ever-dwindling personal life.
2) I was not anticipating paper tickets. I genuinely thought they were all e-tickets. Usually I use the university’s on-campus travel agents, where I speak to them face-to-face, and they give me by hand exactly what I need. On this occasion Joseph had convinced me to use his guy in DC, saying he would be able to cut us special breaks in the Middle East. Not familiar with “Travellese” I misinterpreted the invoice that he faxed me. He also assumed that I would be expecting paper tickets. Finally, as I said before, they were delivered while I was out. Had I been in, and they were handed to me, this never would have happened.
3) The FedEx package was opened. This is normal while I am travelling, because it could contain a student’s application, which is time sensitive, and I might be gone for weeks and weeks. However, seeing an opened FedEx envelope upon my return (which I’m sure that I must have, but do not remember) I might have though that I’d already opened it before my trip and hence put it to the side. I actually often keep empty FedEx envelopes. This is because students sometimes write me and say, “But I sent you X document already.” Then I will say, “No you didn’t, I have the empty envelope right here. I opened it myself, and it was not one of the items inside.”

Is that a rational rationalization? Or do I need my head scanned?

So, an unfortunate series of circumstances. I had to also buy another ticket to Amman, Jordan. The good thing is, the original paper tickets were being sent to catch up with me in Saudi Arabia, and the agent was pretty sure he could get refunds for the double seats I was having to buy. By the way, I don’t see how, in this modern computer-driven age, the airline agents cannot print me a new ticket on the spot when they have me standing there in person, passport and reference numbers in hand, and they know that there is no one else inhabiting my seat with the previously printed tickets. Assholes. Part of me hopes that the whole industry goes bankrupt. One day it will.

Another thing: in all the running around, buying new tickets and whatnot, I lost my “good” pen, and left my poster in the food court of the Milan airport. I hope that someone took it home and it was not thrown away. It was a cool poster. Luckily, I have found that I can order another copy online (for three times the price).

Jordan

It was a long day of travel. From the west end of the Middle East to the center of it, 5am to 9pm. Whew. Yes, I slept in the next day.

At 11am a group of us reps were picked up at the hotel (yep, Sheraton again) to go and see the campus of a new boarding school being modeled after Deerfield Academy in the US. See, that’s where the King of Jordan went and he is one of the main benefactors, hence the name King’s Academy. The school opens its doors to students this fall, but will only have freshmen and sophomores. There won’t be a graduating class for three years, but the counselors want to get a head start. Cool with us. The grounds were amazing, and we had lunch at the headmaster’s house, prepared by the French-trained cook. Not bad. On the way back we had to stop on the side of the road so that a couple of the other reps could get pictures of carts loaded with carrots. Seriously.

Briefing. College fair – busy, busy. Afterwards four of us went to the Howard Johnson’s for sushi. I know that sounds weird, but there was actually a really good sushi restaurant situated on the top floor. A good panoramic view of Amman as well. After dinner we had a couple of drinks in the club under the hotel. Nai, or something like that. It was actually very, very cool, and there were some very attractive Arab girls in there. Thank Allah burkhas are not the rule in Amman.

We didn’t stay out too late, but I was still a bit upset by being woken up at 6:45am with a drunken phone call from my colleagues out on the town in Atlanta. Thanks gals. After a couple more hours of sleep I went to the hotel gym for a much needed work-out. Breakfast. Check-out. Bus to the airport at 11:30. At this time I made my revenge call to Atlanta.

Saudi Arabia

It was a two-hour flight over the desert to Riyadh. I had a great window seat on the exit aisle. Still, due to the foggy window and the brightness outside, none of my pictures came out well enough to include. I enjoyed it though. The endless dunes have a mesmerizing mathematical quality to them.

Entry to Saudi Arabia is interesting. “Death for drug trafficking” and all that. I was lucky enough to be chosen for a hand search of one of my bags. Still luckier, it was my bag with the DVD-case containing all my Russian bootlegs (see previous post). One of these was Into the Blue with Jessica Alba. Previously, I praised the quality of the Russian bootlegs. Today, I wished they hadn’t gone to the trouble of printing a picture of Jessica in her mesh bikini on the DVD.
“Sexy movie?” the searcher asked.
I figured that, “Yes, that’s the whole point. Don’t you know who Jessica Alba is?” was probably the wrong answer. “It’s a beach movie,” I answered instead.
“You wait here.” He took my passport and the case off into an office.
I’d never actually watched the movie and had no idea if there was nudity or not. I was hoping that maybe they wouldn’t be able to navigate the Cyrillic menus. Otherwise, I might have an interesting stay in Saudi Arabia. Ten or fifteen minutes later my case was returned to me – and the movie was still there. I wonder if they burned a copy…

Once checked into the hotel (yes, another Sheraton) I stayed in my room and did a little email, internet surfing, and reading. Not much nightlife in Riyadh, or anything else. This is one city where I don’t feel guilty about staying in my hotel.

The next two days were pretty full. We had a fair in four sessions, morning and evening, at Al Yamamah College. That’s sixteen hours in all. If all the traffic at the fair were compressed into 3 or 4 hours, it would have been a pretty decent showing. As it was, not so much. I did get a handful of serious inquiries however, so it was not a total wash.

During the break on the first day we made a visit to the US Embassy for a briefing on the Saudi educational system and the state of visa issuance. Funny story from that visit. This is another one of those ask-me-later stories, as it might involve me compromising national security. Or maybe I’m full of shit and just trying to get friends and acquaintances to buy me drinks. Put a pint of Guinness in front of me and maybe you’ll find out.

How do you respect a city when its only skyscraper looks like the Bic Lady Shaver?



Next stop: Kuwait. A regular barrel of monkeys compared to Saudi.