Ibn Ibn Battuta

Observing the Holy Month, from a Safe Distance

The Muslim holy month of Ramadan (رمضان) began almost two weeks ago, and with it our tranquil routine of daily life in Rabat was flipped on its head.

On the first day, a Saturday, the normally busy streets of our neighborhood of Agdal were lifeless. Rabat had become a ghost town, as its residents waited out the daylight indoors, suffering through the start of their obligatory month of daytime fasting.

With the arrival of dusk, I knew, the streets would buzz with life - couples and families would stroll together, the cafes would stay full until the wee hours, and

Though the Meter Man Lurks, Lisbon Still Delights

Lisbon map

Why, oh why, did we decide to drive?

I first began to ask myself this question on the highway just outside Lisbon, as we sat in full horizon-to-horizon gridlock, creeping imperceptibly toward the Portuguese capital.

Strangely, when we finally reached the center of the city it looked almost deserted. Late on a Sunday afternoon, most shops were closed and the pedestrians were few.

So too were the parking spaces. Thus, while Jacqueline and I walked around downtown searching for a suitable place to stay, our rental car sat in a garage, racking up a substantial bill. We finally opted to stay in the brand new Shiado Hostel, on

Something like Jazz, au Chellah

Rabat's annual "Jazz au Chellah" festival tends to be a fairly sedate affair, as one might imagine. Assigned seating, a crowd of stiff European expats, and mellow tunes lend it a refined garden party atmosphere. 

The backdrop helps, too; the concert stage is tucked among the overgrown ruins of the Chellah (شالة). One of only a few sites of historical importance in the capital, the Chellah is a jungle-like complex of deteriorating Roman and medieval Islamic structures, all surrounded by high, crenellated walls. On a balmy Monday evening, the storks whose cackling normally dominates the site's treetops

Nor Common Sense, Nor Crowd Control Shall Stay Them

My full-speed-ahead east coast tour last week left me wholly drained, but was well worth the effort. After eight months here in Morocco, it was a treat to spend a week with family and friends.

Only two factors made my brief reintegration to American life difficult. The first was light switches being just inside, not outside, of each room. All week long I consistently found myself walking into dark rooms after having just turned on the light in the hallway behind me. The second, less mundane factor was English – specifically, the fact that everyone was speaking it. Here in Morocco, I have become very accustomed to hearing

Culture in the Capital

Fes has long been known as Morocco's "cultural capital", thanks in recent years to the popularity of the annual World Sacred Music Festival and Sufi Culture Festival, among a number of international spectacles. Unfortunately, none of those festivals took place during our time in Fes, and we took advantage of smaller events in town only too rarely.

So, since moving to Rabat, Jacqueline and I have made a point to get out of the house more and experience some contemporary Moroccan culture.

On a random weekday night last month, we met for dinner off a lively square in centre ville before heading to the Royal Cinema for a showing of "Amours Voilées" (حجاب الحبّ, or "The Veil of Love"). We sat in armchairs in the theater's balcony, flanked by teenage boys who chattered through the film and, with each sex scene, hooted wildly to mask

Celebrating the Sacrifice, and its Contradictions

Tuesday morning, Ryan, Jacqueline and I walked to the home of our former landlords Abdelrahim and Fatima, who joined their neighbor Younes’ family in sacrificing a sheep in honor of the ‘Eid. We arrived to see the two families circled together around the flailing sheep, its throat slit just seconds earlier.

The disassembly began as soon as the sheep ceased twitching. With a large knife and much tugging and grunting, Abdelrahim and Younes removed the sheep’s head, then set to work on the body.

A Hike in Sheep Country, As 'Eid Nears

Morocco map

Yesterday Jacqueline and I traveled south to the little Berber town of Azrou, our base for a day hike in the Middle Atlas Mountains.

A few inches of snow had fallen in the mountains just days earlier, making the picturesque drive through the Atlas that much more scenic. We reached Azrou around mid-day, and immediately set off for hills which hug the town’s southern and western outskirts. Packed lunch in tow, we located a muddy track leading off into the scrubby forest, and started walking.

The trail followed (and sometimes overlapped with) the course of a small stream meandering down from the hills above town. Along our hike, we stepped

The Moussem of Moulay Idriss

Fes map west / Fes map east

Yesterday marked the annual moussem (festival) in honor of Moulay Idriss II, who’s something like the local patron saint here in Fes. The son of the city's founder and a descendant of the Prophet Mohammed, Moulay Idriss was also the first ruler to unite the region now known as Morocco. He did so in the early ninth century, with Fes as his capital.

The moussem’s main event is a raucous procession which begins outside Bab Boujloud and winds its way along the main route of Tala’a Saghira to the saint’s mausoleum at the heart of the medina. It was an exuberant occasion.

Getting to Know Old Damascus

Damascus map

In every way, Damascus could not be less like home, but despite my anxiety during the trip here and first several hours in the city, I have come to really enjoy it, and am adapting to the new climate, schedule, political atmosphere, and people here.

Damascus' Old City certainly does not want for sights to explore. In fact, I am quickly learning why Ibn Battuta raved for page after page about the city after his travels first brought him here, in 1362: