Day 55 - Casablanca
I am embarrassed to say that I have never seen the movie Casablanca, and even more humiliated to say that I know nothing about Morocco. In fact, when we got there, I was shocked to learn that both my Spanish and English were useless there. Maybe its because I have spent the last three weeks and six ports in Europe, but I had the most difficult time getting around in the city.
Luckily, however, I ran into a friend who was kind enough to show me the ropes. She suggested that we go to Haman, and not knowing what that was, and having no ideas of my own, I decided it sounded like a good plan. Little did I know what I was in for. I can now officially say that I have been unintentionally naked on every major continent.
So, for those of you who don’t know what Hamman is, basically you go into this very large, communal bathroom, strip down to your skivvies and bathe. Then, at least in my case, a very large woman will lay you out on a very slippery marble table, give you an atomic weggie, in order to scrub your entire body with what could only be described as a scour pad in the most vigorous fashion possible. In the end, I ended up taking off my underwear in order to save myself from never being able to dislodge it again.
The scrubbing itself hurt…a lot, and my skin was a raw pink color. I was also covered in gross brown little rolled up balls of my skin. It was like I was a snake and had shed an entire layer of skin or two. Now my skin was lying in little flecks all over the place. But the day ended well enough. After the torture was over I was rewarded with a full body massage, and at least by then I had gotten over the fact that I was butt-naked in front of several women who had their own zip code.
The only other eventful thing that happened in Morocco was the death of my computer. It seems that the Mediterranean did not agree with Jelly Bean (that was my computer’s name). I knew she was on her last legs, but I was hoping she would make it the entire voyage…sigh….I miss her so much!
Luckily, however, I ran into a friend who was kind enough to show me the ropes. She suggested that we go to Haman, and not knowing what that was, and having no ideas of my own, I decided it sounded like a good plan. Little did I know what I was in for. I can now officially say that I have been unintentionally naked on every major continent.
So, for those of you who don’t know what Hamman is, basically you go into this very large, communal bathroom, strip down to your skivvies and bathe. Then, at least in my case, a very large woman will lay you out on a very slippery marble table, give you an atomic weggie, in order to scrub your entire body with what could only be described as a scour pad in the most vigorous fashion possible. In the end, I ended up taking off my underwear in order to save myself from never being able to dislodge it again.
The scrubbing itself hurt…a lot, and my skin was a raw pink color. I was also covered in gross brown little rolled up balls of my skin. It was like I was a snake and had shed an entire layer of skin or two. Now my skin was lying in little flecks all over the place. But the day ended well enough. After the torture was over I was rewarded with a full body massage, and at least by then I had gotten over the fact that I was butt-naked in front of several women who had their own zip code.
The only other eventful thing that happened in Morocco was the death of my computer. It seems that the Mediterranean did not agree with Jelly Bean (that was my computer’s name). I knew she was on her last legs, but I was hoping she would make it the entire voyage…sigh….I miss her so much!
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