Good-bye Ourazazate, Hello Khenifra

PC training is often challenging in many regards and surprisingly challenging emotionally. For the past three months, I've lived, eaten, trained, socialized, and studied with 25 people who were complete strangers when I met them on March 1st in Philadelphia and another 10 Peace Corps staff who joined us in Ouarzazate. As you would expect, we all got to know each other to some degree. Some more than others – when I asked Tori if she wanted to room together in Ouarzazate, the only memory I had of her before that was talking to her in the hotel lobby in Rabat. She was going on and on about how she talks a lot and she knows she does this, particularly when she is with people she doesn't know and there are those awkward silences. She fills them up. Tori quickly became one of my closest friends in Morocco. Luckily, we are within about 2 hours of each other and can meet halfway in Khenifra. Others are so far away, the next time we'll see each other is November when we have In-Service Training. It is hard to picture life without any Americans, especially these 25, around to talk to. It is also difficult to imagine heading out today without the immediate support of our PC staff. They have been here to answer all of our questions about Moroccan food, behavior, dress, language, etc. When my new host family does something I find strange, I won't have Hoda to explain what was going on!
I was also surprised by how quickly I bonded with my host family in CBT. The 4 weeks we spent together were spread over a 10-week period and I was at school from 8am until 6pm for the majority of the days I spent with them. Given the language barrier, it is hard to believe how much I will miss them. It will be an adjustment for me to move from their relatively quiet and serene home, to bustling and lively home of my new host family.
To get from Ouarzazate to Khenifra, the K-5 group of volunteers opted to take a CTM bus to Marrakesh and then taxi it the rest of the way. The CTM is a private bus company that operates on time and only stops in major cities, so it took us about 4 hours to get to Marrakesh. The drive is through an insane mountain pass – I equate it roughly to the Highway 1 trek through Big Sur in Calfornia. But this is Morocco so there are no guard rails, the road is really only 1.5 lanes wide and the rules of the road aren't exactly followed to a "T." I like the drive better by bus because I can't see all the perils and I have my own seat.
We arrived in Marrakesh in good spirits. We planned to stop at McDonalds – yes, that American institution. Being a vegetarian who didn't frequent McDonalds in the states, even I was excited about a tiny piece of Americana before I set out for my village. Our plan was to take a petit taxi to the Grand Taxi Station. Remember we are moving to our sites, so we have a lot of stuff. The taxi guys at the CTM station wanted to take us right to Beni Mellal where we would transfer to another Grant taxi to take us the rest of the way to Khenifra. There were a couple problems with this scenario:
They wanted to overcharge us by a lot
Technically, they aren't allowed to take passengers long distances. They are allowed only to operate within the city limits of Marrakesh.
We wanted to go to the Taxi Station, but none of them would take us, leaving us to their mercy. We finally agreed to take a small van taxi straight to Beni Mellal. They packed all our luggage in and then we realized that there really wasn't enough room for us to sit. They wanted 4 of us in the back seat and 1 in front. This isn't an unusual situation except that the backseat was really tiny. They wanted Tori, who was on the end to sit sideways. We argued a bit and didn't get very far – we were at this guy's mercy. We told the driver we wanted to stop at McDonald's for lunch before we left Marrakesh – we knew it was close because we passed it on the bus.
We drove off and shortly stopped across the street from McDonalds, but we were just on the side of the road, not a parking place. The driver got out and started talking to another man on the sidewalk. We debated what to do and decided we would leave someone in the van with all of our worldly possessions, while the rest of us got a bite to eat. Just as we were taking Jake's order (as the lone male in the K-5, he often gets stuck with these jobs), the driver got back in and we started driving again – AWAY FROM McDonalds! We all started talking and trying to explain that we were going the wrong way. He told us not to worry that we'd drive a little while and then stop for a tagine. That was the last thing any of us wanted to eat – we'd been eating them for three months and wanted a taste of home. We tried some more, but there was no persuading the driver. The somewhat buoyant mood suddenly turned sour. None of us spoke for the rest of the ride. I think we all lost our appetites and had the realization that America was out of our reach for the immediate future.
We stopped at a gas station on the edge of Marrakesh to fill up the gas tank. It was more like an American truck stop with a restaurant, convenience store, etc. He offered to let us eat there. We said no – I felt like I'd rather not eat than eat another tagine. I was really looking forward to fries and a McFlurry. I'd even heard from another volunteer that they have good salads, ones without chicken on them!
The driver kindly took time to rearrange our luggage to make room for Jake to sit on the floor in the back. He made a little cubby-hole and insisted that Jake, none of the girls, sit there. This took a while because he had to put some bags on the roof and tie them down. We had to pay 1/3 of our fair at the gas station so he could fill up his tank.
About 30 minutes outside of Marrakesh, there was a Gendarme checkpoint. These are fairly regular along the major routes, so we didn't think much of it. None of us had been in a vehicle that was stopped – they usually waive you through. Our luck was not so good today. As soon as we were waived over, the driver asked for 20Dh to bribe the officer. Before we could gather the change from our pockets he got out to talk to the officer who approached our van. They talked for a good 10 minutes and then the driver got back in the car and we took off again. We weren't sure what happened, but were glad to be back on the road.
About 15 minutes later, a legit grand taxi passed us without any passengers. Our driver gunned it and followed him, honking and waiving for him to pull over. The drivers talked for a few moments and then they told us to get in the other taxi. We asked about $$$ because we'd already put a 1/3 of the fare into the gas tank of the first taxi and we were not a1/3 of the way to our destination. They said not to worry about it. The drivers unloaded our luggage from the van and put it in the new taxi. It was your typical old Mercedes and we had to cram backpacks by the back windshield and wedge a couple into the "4th" seat in the back. When were finally moved into our new taxi, the drivers started talking money. We argued for a reduced fare, because of the inconvenience, but they wouldn't have any of it. After a few minutes of back and forth, we gave in. What were we going to do? This guy had all of our stuff packed into his car and we were on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere.
The remainder of this ride to Beni Melal was quiet. I was sick and tired of all the jerking around and felt like we had been totally taken advantage of. Sometimes drivers will take you all the way to your destination instead of going major city to major city the way they are supposed to. We tried to get this driver to take us all the way to Khenifra, but he insisted on dropping us in Beni Melal.
We got to the station and unpacked all of our bags. It was like a clown car – we just kept pulling bags from all corners of the car, including the roof rack. The station manager directed us to another taxi that did not have a roof rack. The new driver seemed surprised that all of our luggage, which he had just helped us unload, would not fit in his taxi. He, the station manager and a few other drivers stood around looking at our bags as if magically they would shrink and everything would fit in this car. After a couple minutes they directed us to a different taxi, also without a roof rack. Surprisingly, our luggage didn't fit in this one either!
Elizabeth pointed to another taxi with a roof rack and tried to explain that we needed one of those. They directed us to a third taxi, also without a rack, and I walked away. I was so frustrated and now hungry and thirsty because we hadn't really eaten since breakfast and it was 4pm. Luckily, they outfitted this new taxi with a couple brackets that functioned like a roof rack and loaded us up. This whole process took at least 45 minutes and then we had to stop at the Gendarm to get permission for the taxi to leave the province because Khenifra is in a different province. Finally, after an hour layover, we were on our way.
The final leg of our journey was uneventful and the driver took us to our hotel instead of the taxi stand. This way we didn't have to drag our luggage the 5 or 6 blocks from the station to the hotel. We were all a bit out of it and went across the street to get a bite to eat. We didn't talk much, until "Wonderful Tonight" by Eric Clapton came on their music system. It was the theme to my high school prom. I realized that it would be 10 years the following weekend. This started a conversation about proms, dresses, anti-proms, etc. It was nice to get to know the K-5 team better. Even though we'd just spent the entire day stuck in various taxis together, we hadn't talked much. Besides Tori and I, none of us had been great friends during training, so we still didn't know each other well. After dinner, we went to the hotel and crashed. Traveling takes a lot out of you.