Ibn Ibn Battuta

Lalibela: Sacred Spaces from Another World

The Seven Olives Hotel rests on a hillside overlooking the town of Lalibela, in north-central Ethiopia. Jacqueline parked herself there for two days, relaxing and reading on the terrace beside our room, taking three meals a day at the restaurant, and generally trying to forget about her long ordeal with the fleas.

Having sworn off all further visits to Ethiopian monasteries, churches, chapels, and cathedrals, she stayed behind each morning when I set out to explore Lalibela's main attraction: the famous rock-hewn churches.

In the late twelfth century, present-day Lalibela was known as Roha, and was

Bahir Dar: the Riviera of Ethiopia

Our northward drive continued Monday to the city of Bahir Dar, which we reached in time for lunch. Bahir Dar sits on the edge of Lake Tana, and is generously characterized as "Ethiopia's Riviera", though it seemed a bit more rough around the edges than some other rivieras I've seen.

We pitched our tent on the grounds of the Ghion Hotel, beside the lakeshore, and spent the afternoon relaxing and watching the birds (an eclectic mix of parakeets, vultures, pelicans, hornbills, seagulls, fish eagles, pigeons, and plume-tailed songbirds) clatter about the treetops.

The Long Road Northward Begins

The Abeba Tours manager and driver picked Jacqueline and I up at our guest house in Addis early Sunday morning for the start of our two-week northern road trip.

As the churches emptied out from their all-night services, white-veiled figures filled the otherwise deserted streets. We left the city's northern limits, cruising along a well-paved road that brought us abruptly from the metropolis to rolling farmland. Runners and pods of bikers chugged along the roadside; our driver, Yoseph, told us that Ethiopia's most famous athletes, including the internationally renowned marathoners, train along this stretch of road.

Ramadan Reflections: Diversity in Morocco, and the Myth of the Universal Majority

Catfights aside, I actually tend to enjoy Ramadan. In some years past, whether in Jordan, the US, or Morocco, I've even chosen to fast.

Of course, part of me enjoys the challenge, but the greatest motivation of all is not personal, but social. In any Muslim country, Ramadan presents one of the surest opportunities to get "in" with the locals. Fasting far surpasses the "gesture of solidarity" realm - it's not easy, as Muslims know firsthand. Because they fast out of religious conviction, many show respect for any non-Muslim with the capacity and willpower to partake voluntarily. In this most generous of seasons, that respect translates into a lot

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

Letter to the Editor: Pirates, Peace Treaties, and Prejudice

Last week I noticed an op-ed in the Baltimore Sun called "Rewriting the History of America and Islam" (Viewpoint; June 18, 2009). Written by a local academic, the piece outlined some of the sordid history behind America's early relations with Morocco - cited by President Obama in his Cairo speech as "the first nation to recognize my country."

The author's efforts to educate were well-intentioned, but part of me worried that local readers in Baltimore (admittedly not a hub of knowledge on the Islamic world) might misinterpret his message. The other part of me just wanted my name in the paper. Perhaps that second part shown through more

After Cairo, a New Era Begins?

The speech came, the speech went. Here in Morocco, some watched, but many didn’t (it was 10:00am on a work day here when Obama began his address at Cairo University). The few Moroccans I’ve asked about it haven’t had much to say, and none have raised the topic on their own. Even in Egypt, (likely inflated) government figures indicate that only 55 percent of Egyptians watched or read about the speech.

Were it not for Obama’s mention of Morocco, press coverage here might have been non-existent. Even after the President’s reference, two of the three local newspapers I picked up the following morning made no mention of the speech. Those local press outlets that swooned at Obama’s

Casablanca: Play It Again, Sam? No, Thanks

Morocco map

Casablanca’s airport is the city’s biggest draw, without which it’s hard to find a compelling reason to visit the rather dingy, sprawling port. Lacking the charm of other Moroccan seaside towns, Casa (as it is known locally) seems content to focus on its role as the country's primary industrial and business center.

Even classic movie buffs who visit the real Casablanca are likely to be disappointed. While grimy in its own right, Casa doesn’t measure up to the charmingly raucous outlaw town of the famous film. The model for that port

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.

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.

To Ma'aloula and Deir Mar Musa, in Search of Spiritual Roots

Syria map

Life hasn't slowed down much lately. This weekend I went with my Australian housemate Julian, and two German friends named Marion and Christina, to two fascinating sites just a short drive north of Damascus.

The tiny village of Ma'aloula (معلولا) is famously known as one of the last places in the Middle East where people still speak Aramaic, the language of Jesus and most everyone else in his day. We didn't notice anyone speaking Aramaic, but we were there!

The Ummayad Mosque: "Matchless and Unequalled"

Damascus map

The Ummayad Mosque is the hub around which Damascus revolves. During my time here thus far, I've spent several afternoons and evenings propped against a column in the vast open courtyard, reading, people-watching, and enjoying what seems to be the one place in the city where I am permitted a measure of relative tranquility. The cool stones also offer a welcome break from Damascus' stifling midday heat.