On the road again...

My friend (and education expert) Dr. Grant came to visit this weekend. Since I've been in North Africa, he's been a frequent flier. Each time he has been here, we've traveled somewhere, but he's always wanted to visit Marakech. Each time it hasn't happened, so I was determined to make sure that on his last visit we make it there, no matter what. Famous last words... I'm going to make a long story short (totally uncharacteristic). We were a bit late for the train, but decided to run for it. We ran and found the train packed and overflowing, so we decided to take a taxi, and then just to drive ourselves. We arrived in town just as the car started steaming! I don't know much about cars, but I do know that is not good. We pulled into a gas station to let it cool and the attendant came over to tell me we couldn't park there. I explained the situation in my broken French (man I wish I'd have paid better attention in that French class) and he assured me it was no problem and he would fix it. We found a hotel and went back to check. Sure enough, it seemed to be working. I paid him what he asked and he told me we could leave the car until the following afternoon when we would be leaving. Excellent. We had dinner, went to the very crowded market (where harassment is in ample supply), and had a good night sleep. We stopped back in the morning before our carriage ride to check on the car and some guy we didn't know came out and tried to tell me that we had to leave and pay him more. (oops, this is supposed to be short) I got a good French work-out arguing with him and found myself very, very offended that he would treat us like tourists, and told him so. (Um... I guess I forgot, I was.) I told him how unlike local traditional hospitality this was and he promptly got some other innocent onlookers involved in our little spat, which, unfortunately is like local customs. Finally, the man from the night before realized what was going on and came to our defense. I told him that the man was crazy and that we would leave, but not pay any more. He agreed and we left. It was weird how angry I got at the thought of being treated as if I didn't belong. It bothered me for quite a while after that until I realized that inevitably there will be "gas station man" in all areas of my life. Demanding things, not keeping his word, turning his mistake around on someone else. But I also realized that there would also be "other gas station man" who would realize the mistake, take responsibility, and make the problem seem ok. I like that. The typical battle of good and not so good; a real life example.

We went on to have a great day and no car trouble on the way home. Here are some pictures of our tour of the city.

Scott and Dr. Grant in the carriage.

The following are pictures from La Jardin Majorelle. They are beautifully kept gardens that have a huge variety of plants, flowers, cacti, fish, turtles, and blue scenery.









I got a little picture happy with all the blue. There were some great doors, potted plants, a tower etc.












Oh, and a couple of cool fountains, and more blue.

















My Grandma Boge would love all these flowers.















Here are a couple close-ups, just for good measure.











And last, but not least, the group shot in the gardens. Aren't we thrilled...