Casablanca, Morocco, has a similar population size to the city of Los Angeles – almost four million people – if you believe the internet, but our tour guide said it was six. Whatever. It’s a very large city.
I gotta admit, I was a little intimidated by getting off the ship there, although I’ve always wanted to go, ever since I frequented a restaurant called Marrakesh (which was in Oakland in the 1980s). I mean, you can at least read the signs in Italy and Spain, and given the Latin roots, you can sometimes guess the meaning… but Arabic? Very pretty squiggles.
We received a notice in our cabin the night before detailing how we needed to have shoulders and knees covered at the very minimum, it was respectful for women to cover their hair, and bring loo paper and hand sanitizer as “facilities may not be to the Western standards to which you are accustomed.”
No bog paper? Holy crap and then some. However, a friend of mine spent time in Indonesia (very Muslim) and he recounted how they’re not kidding when they call it a water closet. They provided a bucket of water and a ladle.
Mmmm. I’ll bring my own. Thanks.
Add to that, the horror stories of how women are, at times, disrespected in the Arab world.
But, much like the stories they hear about America (shootings every day! Everyone has a gun!) it’s seriously overblown. We were more hassled by someone in Italy than in Morocco, and even then a sharp, loud NO shut the guy down.
We went to see Hassan II Mosque, which can hold services with a mind-blowing 105,000 people… 25,000 indoors and 80,000 outside.
The mosque is the only one in Casablanca that permits non-Muslims inside, and even then, the places you can go to are limited, but holy COW it’s insane. Gorgeous.
What really tripped me out were the retractable ceilings and the giant doors.
As to the “non-Western facilities”, I didn’t see any. The two I availed myself of had very western facilities. It was much, much more civilized than Cagliari, where they have no seats on the lavs.
I don’t know about you, but resting my exposed posterior on porcelain of dubious cleanliness is not something I’m inclined to do. However, bending my femurs so I don’t piddle down my leg is an equal, if not greater, challenge. (And thank you, but I do not need instruction in how to pee standing up if you’re inclined to provide the knowledge. I’m well aware of the various implements you can carry etc.)
Back to the mosque. Their facilities were impeccable. Not only did the loos have paper and a hose for those preferring the bidet-ish option, the ablution area was… well… wow. They have separate facilities for men and women, of course. But the real wowzer were the ablution stations, shaped like lotus flowers:
As always, Beloved is the laid back one and I’m the nervous worrywart. I made sure I had a modest dress and headscarf. She wore jeans.
As did all the other women on the tour. Whatever. I’m fine in a dress, as long as I can wear shorts underneath it.
She did, however, bring a scarf thinking England would be cold, so it came in handy. The mosque did not require headscarves, but it’s good manners, so we did.
I like to know at least how to say the absolute basics in whatever language… and Arabic, lemme tell you, is hard. Not Greek level hard, but still hard, especially with my increasingly poor short term memory.
SHOOOOK-rah (thank you) – like I said, easier than Greek, last year’s eff-HARRY’S-toe was a challenge – it’s like shoe, but with a K added, then rah. People were so kind when I tried displaying my sheer incompetency in their language.
Me, after buying chocolate: Shoooooklah!
Shopkeeper, very sweetly: Shoookrah.
Me: Are you sure?
This kindly young Arab man blinked at me. Then he started giggling. “Yes, madame, I am sure.”
Me, completely abashed for blurting that out: Of course you are. I’m an idiot.
He giggled again and said “thank you, enjoy your time here” in perfect English.
I’ve already forgotten “yes”, “no”, and “excuse me”. Crap. It’s what I get for not doing my research until the last minute.
In Morocco, on the other hand, children receive their instruction in Arabic in the morning and in French in the afternoon – so bilingualism is rather a necessity.
However, Casablanca at least recently added Berber as a mandatory requirement as well – so they learn three languages in their K – 12 equivalent. The Berbers were the first inhabitants of Morocco, and the ethnic group was concerned about the language going extinct.
To give you an idea of the extent of this addition, this sign is in Arabic, Berber and French:
Even more astonishing, 90% of children opt in to learning English as well. It’s a nation of polyglots.
And they’re charming, lovely people.
Examining Misadventures 
we had similar issues in Egypt. But no one told us to bring toilet tissue along. Instead a man stood at the door handing out like three squares AND we had to pay him for it.
on the other hand, very, very nice people and the children were great. They make a living off tourism so they try hard. They also had funny jokes they liked to spout but I don’t remember them darn it.
LikeLiked by 1 person