Local Encounters of the Three Kinds

ruined ksours (hardened earth-mud castles) dot the landscape throughout the deserts of Morocco
Since leaving Marrakech, I've been slowly making my way east towards the great sand dunes of the Sahara. Originally wasn't going to go there since time is running short, but I figured it be a shame to miss the mythical, stereotypical image of Morocco and the Sahara. From Marrakech, there's one main route to get there, with some natural sites worth stopping to visit en route. I stopped at Dades Gorge and Todra Gorge along the way, both on the tourist trail.
river view of Todra GorgeHowever most tourists go in package tour busses or 4WD tours. Due to budget concerns and allergic reactions towards tour groups, I've been relying on local busses and hitching rides. It's about a fifth of the cost, but takes twice as long, since there are no direct routes to the gorges. The tour groups are funny. They get out of their vehicles, stop for an hour to take photos and buy souvenirs, and get back in their bus or car and jet to the next site. Thus missing some beautiful off the trail scenery and hikes.
A makeshift ladder on a hike I did in Dades Gorge.
A river palmierie (palm tree grove next to a river oasis) with the Monkey Fingers sandstone formation in the background
But I can't be totally disrespecting the package tour groupees since I hitched a 30km ride back into town from a group of Frenchies in a Land Rover. Ha Ha, paying suckers. On the three bus rides I've been on this week, I've seen maybe a total of 2 or 3 foreigners on them. While local transport is slower and more taxing on the body, it does allow for some interesting observations and encounters. Here's three local encounters from this week:
1. The first bus ride, a 7 hour journey from Marrakech to Boulmane, I experienced a first in my travels. In the middle of a hot, packed bus, a 20 something year old Moroccan guy dressed in a jellebah (traditional, long flowing robe) travelling with his mother, was basically screaming Jihad for the first 4 hours of the trip.
Road sign translates to 'Warning, loud screaming fundamentalists ahead'
I recognized a few words he was screaming, Mohammed, Abraham, Islam, and at one point he said, America. I thought about starting a chorus of America the Beautiful, but I don't know the words in Arabic or Berber. But it didn't matter since I'm sure he was saying nothing but complimentary words and phrases about the stars and stripes. Eventually his friends calmed him down, or he just ran out of material.
2. The other day while waiting for the final leg of the hitch-a-ride/bus ride/shared minivan triathalon, a group of local guys invited me to the Moroccan pastime of sharing mint tea. The guys were super friendly asking if I was enjoying my stay in Morocco, what places have I visited, and so on, and so on. While drinking, one guy said 'I have a brother in New York. He live Brookline'. I responded, 'Oh, you mean Brooklyn?' To which he replied, 'Yes, yes, yes! Do you know heem?!?' The wise ass in me wanted to say, 'Oh yeah, with New York City having a population of 8.1 million, and Brooklyn having about 2.5 million of that number, Brooklyn is similar to one of your small nomadic Berber tribes where everyone knows everyones name including the sheep they're herding.' But it was too hot and I couldn't be bothered. So I just said, 'No, I don't know heeem.'
3. This was by far, my favorite encounter. While doing a 4 hour hike up and around the Todra Gorge,....
view from the top of the hike, with the tiny road in the distance marking the starting point
....in the dry windswept mountain top in the middle of nowhere, I ran into this.
nomadic living
A nomadic Berber family of a mother and her 2 kids. Nothing but a makeshift fabric roof and hand placed stones marking the residence. I asked her for directions back to town, and she invited me in for tea. It was wonderful to have her open her house to me (technically, it's already open since it's a makeshift tent with makeshift rock walls surrounding it), to see how they lived, and despite the language barrier, we communicated with smiles and hand gestures.
tea for two
Meanwhile, I kept the one toddler entertained with the Brazilian finger snap, and also blowing spit bubbles. He could not stop laughing, especially to the finger snapping. I don't think he gets out much.
The older one on the right had a shaved head with a tiny tuft of hair in the back. He looked like a little Hari Krishna. And is it me, or does the baby on the left look like an alien?
On my way down, I had a fourth bonus encounter. This lone mule standing on the trail, not moving, not doing anything, was just standing there the entire time I hiked. I asked him for directions and I didn't even get a tail wag. I then chastised him, and told him that he and his friends need to stop pooping on the trail. It's unsanitary, disgusting, and keeps getting on my shoes. He responded with two wags of the tail.
He's no Mr. Ed. The oasis town of Tizgui in the background.
For a real out of this world experience, check out Dónde está Ché Pelotas?