Today I'm taking a break from rhapsodizing about Morocco, though there's more to come of that. Today I want to think about Meredeth Kercher, the English foreign exchange student who was murdered in Perugia, Italy four years ago.I just read that both Rafael Sollecito and Amanda Knox, convicted and then freed of all charges of murder, have a book deal with Harpercollins and Simon and Schuster for 4 million dollars each. With all the sensation that has surronded the case, it is hard to know what really happened.
I do not want to debate whether Amanda Knox deserves the attention and millions she is getting. I do not see any merit or hard work on her part that entitles her to a book deal. And if surviving four years in a foreign prison is reason enough for memorializing, then there are many wrongly convicted prisoners lingering on death row with more heart wrenching stories.
My opinions are based on newspaper reports and I know that can be misleading. Instead, I want to remember Meredeth Kercher, the quiet unassuming girl who by all accounts was the studious type. No one seems to remember her academic dedication and hard work in a foreign country. No one seems to take into account the fact that while there's ample opportunity to not study, to take the path of fun and frolic, Meredeth did not do so. She deserves the book deal, in my opinion, of how to keep one's focus and dignity when everyone else around her are losing theirs.
I'm sure the papers in England are talking about her. I hope they are. I wish the media in the US would treat the world as their backyard, instead of their backyard as the world.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Hold my hand, I want you to hold my hand
I heard this song a long time ago, I think it was by Hootie and The Blowfish. This line kept running in my head as we entered and walked through the Medina at Fes.
A Medina is the old town in any Moroccan city. Sometimes they are walled cities and in some places the walls have crumbled down. In Fes, within the walls of the Medina lies a vibrant and bustling center of commerce. This was the highlight of our stay in Fes and I was eager to make my way through the narrow alleys.
The first thing I saw as we got out of the car were the donkeys carrying sheep, camel and goat skins to the nearby tanneries. Moroccan leather is world famous (this is where the Italian designers come shopping) and Fes is where it all goes down. As we walked down the narrow cobbled street, flanked by old houses on all sides our guide told us to stay close and keep a firm hold on the kids. " If you get lost here, you'll spend the rest of your life here". Charming as the old town sights and smell are, I'm not sure I want to settle down here. So we huddled and clung to each other's hands for dear life as we walked single file. There was only room for one person going in opposite directions, but somehow it all seemed to flow smoothly. Fast forward inside the tannery where we are handed a sprig of mint. As we get nearer, the reason is clear. I need my mint if I want to breathe. So there I was, sprig in one hand, other hand tightly grasping a six year old. The stench is awful but the sights of those leather bags and jackets in red green blue orange and yellow is breathtaking.All organic colors. Orange, my favorite, is made from henna while yellow is made from the very expensive herb saffron. Naturally, yellow leather products were the most expensive. I fell in love with a yellow coat, but decided in the end to stick with my longtime ally, orange.
The Medina is huge. I mean gargantuan. With tiny narrow alleys that zigzag, curve, go uphill or down. On both sides are shops with handicrafts (carpets, leather, brass lamps, woodworkers), food vendors (brochetters which are barbecued meat on a stick, flaky cinnamon pastries, nuts and dates) and wrought iron furniture. A shopper's paradise, though the shopper might get lost in her meanderings.
A picture is worth a thousand words. So here are a few glimpses.
A Medina is the old town in any Moroccan city. Sometimes they are walled cities and in some places the walls have crumbled down. In Fes, within the walls of the Medina lies a vibrant and bustling center of commerce. This was the highlight of our stay in Fes and I was eager to make my way through the narrow alleys.
The first thing I saw as we got out of the car were the donkeys carrying sheep, camel and goat skins to the nearby tanneries. Moroccan leather is world famous (this is where the Italian designers come shopping) and Fes is where it all goes down. As we walked down the narrow cobbled street, flanked by old houses on all sides our guide told us to stay close and keep a firm hold on the kids. " If you get lost here, you'll spend the rest of your life here". Charming as the old town sights and smell are, I'm not sure I want to settle down here. So we huddled and clung to each other's hands for dear life as we walked single file. There was only room for one person going in opposite directions, but somehow it all seemed to flow smoothly. Fast forward inside the tannery where we are handed a sprig of mint. As we get nearer, the reason is clear. I need my mint if I want to breathe. So there I was, sprig in one hand, other hand tightly grasping a six year old. The stench is awful but the sights of those leather bags and jackets in red green blue orange and yellow is breathtaking.All organic colors. Orange, my favorite, is made from henna while yellow is made from the very expensive herb saffron. Naturally, yellow leather products were the most expensive. I fell in love with a yellow coat, but decided in the end to stick with my longtime ally, orange.
The Medina is huge. I mean gargantuan. With tiny narrow alleys that zigzag, curve, go uphill or down. On both sides are shops with handicrafts (carpets, leather, brass lamps, woodworkers), food vendors (brochetters which are barbecued meat on a stick, flaky cinnamon pastries, nuts and dates) and wrought iron furniture. A shopper's paradise, though the shopper might get lost in her meanderings.
A picture is worth a thousand words. So here are a few glimpses.
Monday, March 12, 2012
Vive Le Maroc!!
I don't speak French. Running the risk of massive grammatical errors and thus becoming the butt of jokes for all French speaking and knowing friends, I will give this post a French title. Going by the example above, I can give anyone a run for their money with run-on sentences! But back to the topic of this post.
As I might have mentioned in an earlier post, this is my flirty fortieth birthday. As a special gift, my dear husband bought us all a trip to Morocco. As a kid, he lived there for seven years (oh Brad Pitt think how much better a movie that could have been!) and I have always been mesmerized by the glamorous and exciting stories of Marrakesh (which is written Marrakech is French) and Casablanca.
I was pinching myself as we got off the plan in Casablanca. I am here!! Truly really in Morocco. It was blindingly sunny, mildly chilly and there were palm trees everywhere. Also, everyone is speaking Arabic and/ or French. Not a bit of English to be heard in any corner.
There are too many things to talk about. So in this first post, I will talk about Volubilis. Between the cities of Rabat and Fes, tucked away near the town of Moulay Idris in Northern Morocco, are the Roman ruins of Volubilis. I knew the French had colonized north Africa, and also the Dutch and the English, but I had no idea the Romans got there first. In hindsight, why not? It's right next to Spain, and the Roman generals weren't exactly stay-at-home types anyway.
The ruins look much like those in Rome, with the stone remains of beautifully planned villas. Wide and straight streets, under which were built in sewage drains. Roads ran North and South. There was a main road the connected the entrance gate to the city with the Arc d'Triomph like structure at the other end. One side of the street were for villas of aristocrats, the other for commoners. Much like our right side of the tracks versus the undesirables. There were meticulously planned courtyards with fountains, baths and forums (open public meeting spaces) that would have pleased a Caesar or a Claudius back in the day.
What struck me at Volubilis are the amazing two thousand years old mosaic floors! Each villa we passed through could boast at least one room where the mosaic floor still depicted Greek themes like Ariadne by the beach, or the Labors of Hercules or Diana hunting. The unexpected beauty of this ancient Roman colony left me speechless. The symmetrical lines of the columns, graceful arches and the detailed attention given to planning this remote outpost left me in awe of Roman civil engineering. Here are a few pictures before we enter the maze of a Medina at Fes.
As I might have mentioned in an earlier post, this is my flirty fortieth birthday. As a special gift, my dear husband bought us all a trip to Morocco. As a kid, he lived there for seven years (oh Brad Pitt think how much better a movie that could have been!) and I have always been mesmerized by the glamorous and exciting stories of Marrakesh (which is written Marrakech is French) and Casablanca.
I was pinching myself as we got off the plan in Casablanca. I am here!! Truly really in Morocco. It was blindingly sunny, mildly chilly and there were palm trees everywhere. Also, everyone is speaking Arabic and/ or French. Not a bit of English to be heard in any corner.
There are too many things to talk about. So in this first post, I will talk about Volubilis. Between the cities of Rabat and Fes, tucked away near the town of Moulay Idris in Northern Morocco, are the Roman ruins of Volubilis. I knew the French had colonized north Africa, and also the Dutch and the English, but I had no idea the Romans got there first. In hindsight, why not? It's right next to Spain, and the Roman generals weren't exactly stay-at-home types anyway.
The ruins look much like those in Rome, with the stone remains of beautifully planned villas. Wide and straight streets, under which were built in sewage drains. Roads ran North and South. There was a main road the connected the entrance gate to the city with the Arc d'Triomph like structure at the other end. One side of the street were for villas of aristocrats, the other for commoners. Much like our right side of the tracks versus the undesirables. There were meticulously planned courtyards with fountains, baths and forums (open public meeting spaces) that would have pleased a Caesar or a Claudius back in the day.
What struck me at Volubilis are the amazing two thousand years old mosaic floors! Each villa we passed through could boast at least one room where the mosaic floor still depicted Greek themes like Ariadne by the beach, or the Labors of Hercules or Diana hunting. The unexpected beauty of this ancient Roman colony left me speechless. The symmetrical lines of the columns, graceful arches and the detailed attention given to planning this remote outpost left me in awe of Roman civil engineering. Here are a few pictures before we enter the maze of a Medina at Fes.
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