Death By Sexy

Bad News Beard 3

2007-05-06T14:59:00.001-07:00

I'll be going home soon, so I decided to make a list of some of the important lessons I've learned while I've been abroad. Here it is, in list form, Bad News Beard #3:

1. 1 bottle of vodka = 3 belgian beers.
2. you can always tell the point when a german gets too drunk when he starts singing the german national anthem.
3. moroccan girls are weird.
4. being abroad isn't as fun if you have to spend most of the time in bed.
5. german girls are weird.
6. the autobahn isn't as cool as i was told.
7. sudoku gets old after a while.
8. it's good to know how to speak more than one language.
9. moroccans are bad at terrorism.
10. you can't talk to puppies on msn messenger.
11. living in a country with lax copyright laws and enforcement is pretty awesome.
12. myspace is no replacement for a hug.
13. everytime you go away, you take a piece of me with you.
14. they don't make airplanes with me in mind.

Sink, Ifrane, Sink

2007-04-30T07:53:00.000-07:00

This is what happens when I am on painkillers, Chrisoph sneaks his digital camera into my room, and Neyl gets his groove on.
*Warning for those with sensitive ears* - the f-word is said a couple of times, and we can't sing.

Bah, Hum-bunny

2007-04-08T12:06:00.000-07:00

Well today's Easter Sunday. Right about now everyone back home is either in the kitchen preparing the big feast, playing with their new toys or eating their candy that the easter bunny brought, or sitting around watching TV or chatting with family. I know that my Grandma Frankie is in Williston for the holiday. I imagine here and Marlene are playing cards or sitting on the couch together chatting it up. Although I wish I could be home with my family today, this isn't going to be a sentimental post, but rather one of observation.

There are obvious differences between the American and Moroccan cultures. Too many to count or cite. But one difference I've noticed is how people celebrate holidays. For example, in Western cultures the birth of Christ is surrounded by the most extreme consumerism and commercialism for the entire year. Christmas is an event that results in paid time off from work, week-long vacations, people traveling hundreds and ever thousands of miles to be with family and friends, and the Christmas "season" lasts an entire month. It's a BIG deal.
However, in Morocco "Aid Almawlid Nabawi" which is the celebration of the birth of the Prophet Mohammed, came and went with barely even a whimper. No where in the entire country did I see a fabulously decorated Olive tree (to Christmas' Christmas tree), window decals, super-sales at the Marjane or in the medinas, and the school week went almost uninterrupted. While the academic calendar indicted a 4-day weekend for the holiday, we were only given one due to the fact that Aid Almawalid Nabawi fell on Sunday, and not Monday as had been anticipated. There were no carollers, big community events, plays, or concerts, or even tales of fat men dressed in red coming in the middle of the night to leave gifts for the children. In fact, there were much bigger celebrations for Valentines day, Halloween, and Christmas on campus than for any Muslim holiday.

What does this say about the two cultures? I've always been a little jaded towards the American/Western/Christian holidays. I've always felt that they are abused by corporations to increase sales and abused by people as a means to get more stuff. I've felt for a long time now that the true meaning of the holidays have been lost and buried under layers of greed and self-serving, gratuitous acts of "generosity". Easter is a little different in that it isn't so overboard with the buying and marketing, but the stores shelves are still stocked full of candy, little bunnies, plastic eggs, and baskets. The one redeeming quality to the holidays is that families DO get together for dinner and activities. This is something I truly miss during this Easter holiday.

Morocco, on the other hand, does the absolute minimum for the holidays. There was one day this year (I can't remember the name of the occasion, and if anyone knows please remind me) where there was big feast of lamb and the cities all but shut down. I believe it was the Muslim new year. But again, there was minimal advertising, and I don't know if anyone got any gifts. It seemed as though it was just a day of feasting and celebration with family and friends. One thing's for sure, Muslims LOVE to eat. However, this is a little too minimalistic for my tastes. I feel as though the Moroccans are passing up a great opportunity to get together as a family and share in celebration. This could have something to with my impression that Moroccan family ties are much stronger than those in America, so by the time a holiday comes around the last thing they want is another reason to be with their family. I know that if I had to eat with my family every night I wouldn't be too excited about Christmas or Easter dinner.

Anyway, that's enough out of me on the topic. I hope all of you had a wonderful Easter weekend and I hope all of you now have a couple of more cavities due to all the sweets that you undoubtedly eat.

Drugs are good...

2007-04-05T09:22:00.000-07:00

...they let you do things that you know you know should.
and when you do 'em people think that you're cool.

Ah, NOFX really knows how to say it.

So it's been a while, eh? Well nothing much has changed. I'm still in Morocco, still going to AUI, and still having back problems. I have a had a few visitors though.

I've had a few visitors the past month. For Spring Break, Sus and Regan came for a 8 days. We traveled around Morocco and saw Rabat, Fes, Tangier, Casablanca, and Ifrane. We had a lot of fun and the time flew by. A week after they left, my friend Chelsey from Fargo came for 5 days. We also had a lot of fun, but her time here was shorter. So we spent time in Ifrane, Tetouan, and Fes. She left a few days ago, but not before she got to witness me fall on my ass. We laughed, but my back is in worse shape now. The fall combined with all of the traveling I've had to do has left my back in really rough shape. But the health center here has some pretty awesome drugs. So I've been staying "happy" for the past few days and have been able to miss classes, which doesn't help much with the major case of senioritis I've been suffering with all semester.

Anyway, I blame the drugs for what I'm going to say next. Since Chelsey left, I haven't been able to stop listening to pop/dance/hip hop music. The day that I got back to campus I downloaded a few songs and have been listening to them non-stop. Here's the current list:

What Goes Around Comes Around - Justin Timberlake
My Humps - Black Eyed Peas
Pump It - Black Eyed Peas
Hips Don't Lie - Shakira (carry-over from Auschwietz
Smack That - Akon feat. Eminem.
...repeat.

I've tried to stop listening to these songs, but with no success. If anyone has any tips on how to kick the pop, please let me know. I'm hoping that it just plays itself out by listening to them constantly, but Shakira has been around since January...she's obviously going no where.

Well I'm gonna go now so I can continue to enjoy being stoned...legally. Plus there are some Sudoku puzzles calling my name.

Short Winter in a Mediterranian Climate

2007-01-29T03:28:00.000-08:00

There were several things I was looking forward to about coming to Morocco. Among them was this: one whole year without a North Dakota winter. No snow. No ice. No sub-zero temperatures. Warmth. Sunshine. Africa.

Here are some pictures that were taken by my friends and I on this thursday and friday:

Today's monday and most of the snow is gone. As for the sub-zero temeratures, it DID get below zero, but in celsius. So it was only 25 degrees fahrenhiet. I know it looked like I was having fun in those pictures, but I can tell you that I certainly was not and was merely acting so Holly (the red-head in most of the pictures) wouldn't cry.
Stupid Morocco.

Bad News Beard 2

2007-01-27T12:06:00.000-08:00

1. I went to St. Mary's Basilica in Krakow over winter break. It was a beautiful church. Like most Catholic Churches I've visited in Europe it has a rack-type-thing where people could light candles for their loved ones. I lit a candle for Grandpa Carrier.

2. The only reason I've ever gone to Tangier was to take the ferry across to Spain. Because of this I've spend a lot of time at the port. My first time there, while waiting for my ferry to start boarding I noticed a commotion below from one of the windows I was gazing out of. I notcied about 3 or 4 teenage boys running away from security guards and random port workers trying to corale them. One of the guards was especially rough with one of the boys.
I realized that security is most likely constantly having to deal with people, mostly young men, trying to illegally cross the strait to Spain in search of a better life, work, or just for some new entertainment. On this visit I witnessed the plot of a small handfull of young men get thwarted by the port authority. But at least they tried.

3. Last night Brittany, Rachel and I were on our way back from building 10 after a failed attempt to watch the latest episode of 24. On the way back to our dorms, we ran into a wild pack of dogs...on campus....sniffing around for food and peeing on bushes. I saw them again tonight on my way back from eating dinner. There were 3 of them that I could see, and I could hear another one in the bushes adjacent to me. I'll bet he was peeing on them.

4. I slept through my first earthquake. Apparently at 10am, while I was asleep, there was a small earthquake in Morocco. My roommate said he could feel it, but it wasn't very strong. His mom in Casablanca said they could really feel it there. No reports of damage, which is good. I really hope I don't sleep through the next one.

5. Today is Valentines Day. Cassie got a package from Christina, a student from Seattle that was here last semester. In it was lots of goodies. I got: Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, Sour Patch Kids, and some totally bad-ass Glow-Worms that came with an electronic tong that made the worms light up when you picked them up. Thanks Christina!!!!

6. Last night I was in the library searching for articles for a paper, when I heard what sounded like a gunshot. I looked around the room and no one else seemed to notice as they were all still busy at work or talking to their friends. I went back to my search when I heard it again. This time I was sure it was a gunshot. Immediately following the loud bang was the sound of a dog crying. Constant. It went on for a few seconds then stopped. The university must have hired a hitman to take care of the wild pack of family dogs that had been running loose on campus. Fortunately I heard them barking again this morning on my way to the gym. Take that AUI...

7. This school has some of the stupidest rules ever. For example, the doctor wants me to use the swimming pool to provide for a good healthy, low-impact workoout for my back. However, the school chooses to make this a unecessarily tedious. Here are SOME of the rules:
1. All swimmers must wear bathing caps (these must be purchased from the campus store)
2. NO shirts are allowed. (Not that I would have worn one, but seriously...making it a rule?!?!)
3. Ladies: one or two piece suit or an over all suit (I've yet to see a no-piece of 3 piece suit)
4. (Here's the kicker) Boy: Must wear swimming briefs or an overall suit... NO ATTIRE WITH POCKETS IS ALLOWED.
If I want to swim, I have to wear a freaking SPEEDO! I am NOT wearing a speedo.
Sometimes this place just confused the piss out of me....

Bad News Beard

2007-01-27T09:31:00.000-08:00

There are so many little things that happen to me everyday. I'm constantly making observations about what I witness during the mundane events of my daily routines and ventures. So, I've decided to make a list of these things, or at least some of them that I've experienced up to this point. I hope to make this a recurring issue for this blog with random updates when I've amassed enough little things to post. So here's the first edition of "Bad News Beard" - Morocco:

1. My favorite person in Morocco is the deaf bathroom attendant at La Paix in Ifrane. He can't talk or hear what I say, but he and I have formed this wonderful relationship without typical modes of communication. Usually just a hug and a kiss and a few awkward gestures occur when we encounter, but it's beautiful nonetheless.

2. There is a man who sells souvenirs in the park. Mark and I have passed him on several occasions and we are always obliged to stop and visit with him for a short spell. He doesn't speak English or Arabic. I don't speak Darija and my Arabic is really bad, so I never really get to talk to him.
Around the time of our first encounter I decided to let my beard grow (I have since trimmed it a couple of times). As Mark was talking to him he kept saying something, pointing to me, and rubbing his own chin in a manner that indicated he was talking about my beard.
Mark and I departed his company and he informed me that the man was asking Mark if I was a "fundamentalist". Jokingly, or course.

3. I decided to fast during Ramadan. Towards the end of the Holy month, some friends and I traveled to Casablanca, and I subsequently stopped fasting. As we walking through a market in the city, I stopped to admire the chebekkia at a shop. The man insisted that I try a piece and I refused because I didn't want to be disrespectful and eat in front of all of the fasting Muslims.
People in Morocco are very persistent, as was he, and I had to come up with an excuse now to take his chebekkia using my VERY limited Arabic. Since I HAD been fasting for over 3 weeks prior, I decided to use that as my excuse and said in broken Arabic "I can't eat because it's daytime". The man then asked me if I was Muslim, to which I replied, "Na'm (yes)" and the man buried his head into my chest and began hugging me.
Now I know some of you, or not all, may be a little disgusted with my lie. In my own defense, the lie wasn't intentional. "Na'm" is just a knee-jerk reaction when I'm in a situation where I don't understand what's being said and I want to get out of it. The friends who were with me contend that I'm going to hell, while I insist that even though I told a small, unintentional lie, I made this mans day. You wouldn't believe how happy he was.

4. It could be simply because I miss my friends and family, but I've noticed that a lot of people I know have Moroccan dople-gangers:
Aaron Baker
Jeff Sorenson
Tara Garneau
Michael Anderson
Lauren Furlong
Olivia Thorson
Uncle JD
Chris from Cheapo Discs
...to name a few.

5. No one on campus will talk to me in Arabic. They all insist on speaking english.

6. I've taken to teaching Omar slang. It's fun.

7. We just got a foot of snow, and the people in charge of clearing the walk-ways are forced to use spade-shovels. On the other hand, they do have a Bobcat-style Caterpillar for the larger areas.

8. My MSN is monumentalsecret@hotmail.com and I'm ALWAYS online if you want to chat.

9. Moroccan Fanta is better than American Fanta and European Fanta is better than Moroccan Fanta, but Moroccan Coke is better than any other Coke. And Moroccan Oreos are incredibly stale.

10. My little sister sent me a package containing two different kinds of deoderant. When I got the box, there was only one in it. A friend of mine got a package that was supposed to contain a backpack, tissues, wet-naps, pens, oreos, lactaid, a wooden bowl, and some medication. The oreos were missing.

Well that's it. The first edition of "Bad News Beard". I hope you enjoyed it.
Bye bye.

An International Language

2007-01-19T15:02:00.000-08:00

Never trust a German and a Pole. Well, you can trust them, just be wary.

For some reason, people find me easily approachable. The reasons for approaching me vary. Sometimes people just want to know where I'm from. Other times they are trying to get some money from me. And sometimes I have absolutely no idea what they want. This final instance was often the case when I was in Poland. Not speaking a word of the language, people would come up to me and receive nothing more than a few mumbled syllables non-distinguishable in any dialect, a shoulder shrug, and what I imagine to be a grotesquely contorted face of confusion. These people may have wanted nothing more than to comment me on my pants or to inquire about who does my hair.

So being in Poland with Polish and German friends, I confront them with my problem stressing my frustration that I wasn’t even able to, in the simplest terms indicate to these people that I don’t speak any Polish and their efforts were wasted on me. Here’s what I remember of the dialogue:

Me: So, how do I say, “I don’t speak Polish” in Polish?
Christoph (the German): Just say “Yem Guvna”.
Jerzy, laughing: No, don’t say that.
Me: “Yem Guvna”? What does it mean?
Jerzy: It means...uh...something like…
Christoph: Just say it. Trust me…they will get the point.
Me: But what does it mean.
Jerzy: It means, “I eat shit”.

After picking myself up off the street from laughing so damn hard, I committed this phrase to memory, and it remains the only Polish phrase I know. Jerzy, being the great friend that is decided that occasions might arise where it may be beneficial to know more variations of the phrase, so he taught me the plural form “I eat shits”, the future tense “I will be eating the shit” and the present continuous “I am eating the shit”.

The justification for teaching me this is quite logical, and there in lies the crass brilliance of Christoph. For example, if you were trying to get someone’s attention, tossing out a simple “Hey, can you help me?” and this person replies with “I eat shit”, you would undoubtedly get the point that this person either doesn’t speak your language, or this is just quite simply someone you do not want to talk to.

I never got the chance to use my new phrase on any poor unsuspecting pedestrian or panhandler. Maybe someday I’ll be able to go back to Poland, armed with the perfect phrase for any tourist to know.

New Years Eve - Poland Style

2007-01-16T06:10:00.000-08:00

New Years Eve was quite the experience this year. I spent the evening playing cards with Kendra in the hostel, drinking wine, and prepping myself for the near-midnight plans. Our hostel was about one block from the main square of Wroclaw where crews had been working hard for the past couple of days in preperation for the nights events, which were to include fireworks, euro-pop, lights, a mile of guard rail, thousands of drunken Polish, a couple of drunken Americans, and a Christoph.

At about 23:00h we made our way to the square. All of the foot traffic was squeezed through one checkpoint where guards were frisking the partiers for weapons and booze. Unlike Germany, it's illegal in Poland to have open containers of alcohol in public. Of course this did not deter anyone.

As thousands of people were trying to funnel through one single entrance, Christoph took it upon himself to start singing the American national anthem. Why? It's Christoph. We don't ask these questions. Sensing a sudden feeling of patriotism I decided to belt it out along with him. People began to take notice, especially a small group of 3 girls and 1 guy next to us. After we finished, impressed by our beautiful tenor voices and amazing ability to harmonize, they offered me their champagne. I took, pulled a couple of swigs, and told them it's their turn to sing the Polish national anthem. I can't remember whether they did or not, but I do believe Christoph gave it a shot.

I assume that due to our sudden publicity, Kendra and Jerzy decided to distance theirselves from us, so I stuck by the sides of my new Polish friends with the bottle of Champagne. Once we were close to the gate, one of the girls pulled a bottle of vodka out of her purse and asked me to try to get it in for her, since they were going to check her purse. I agreed and proceeded to the guards with bottle in hand. The gurad pulled me forward and at that moment I realized that I had to do something drastic, so I stuck my arm with the bottle of vodka back into the crowd befind me as I got frisked. He passed me through and I sneakily pulled my arm back and placed the vodka into the liner of my jacket. Brilliant! With their bottle back safe in their possession, my new friends insisted that I follow them and ring in the new year. However, Kendra and Jerzy, who had seperated from us earlier, were still standing by the gate waiting for us, so I had to watch as my new friends disappeared into the crowd, calling back to me "Come on! Come with us!" I cried a little.

Once reunited with my friends, we made our way to the middle of the crowd of people. It was reported that there were about 120,000 people in the square that night. It was a mad house, but a nice one. There was a definite sense of comradery. We were all there to get inibriated and ring in the new year. In fact, there was such a sense of brotherhood that if someone saw someone else with something to drink, they were immidiatly given a bottle to pull from. It was so amazing. Everyone was so happy.

The music sucked, but I didn't care. I was with my friends in Poland. Once midnight came, everyone started counting down (in Polish, so I didn't know what they were yelling about until all of the champagne bottles burst and the fireworks began to errupt), everyone embraced and sang.

Here are some pictures:

Winter Break Part 1

2007-01-09T10:26:00.000-08:00

Let's just say that I would write forever on the details of my winter break. However, neither you nor I have the time it would take to give intricate details of what I saw, smelled, tasted, heard, and so on. So the following will be a skimmed down version of the past 3 weeks. Consider it a sort of "Cliffs Notes". If you like what you read, you can always sit down with me sometime in the future and I'll recollect every single nuance and detail of what I would consider the best of what I have done so far.

I won't waste any time explaining the routes of travel, other than to simply state that we did travel by land, sea, and air. Well, I guess a little explanation is in order...

Kendra and I started by taking a cab to Meknes and a train to Tangier. We stayed over night in Tangier in what is officially my favorite cheap little hotel in all of Morocco. This mainly has to do with the staff. The next morning we woke early and hopped a ferry across the Strait of Gibraltar to Tariffa, Spain. Once in Tariffa, we had to take a bus to Algeciras, where we took a train to Granada. That night we had a room in a very nice hostel booked. We explored Granada a little and I quickly decided that one night is not nearly enough time there. Spain is definately my favorite country...at least it was at this point.

The following morning we got on our pre-booked flight to Frankfurt. Some of you may remember an email that I sent at the begining of my travels containing some information about a little mistake that I made. There's really no need to beat a dead horse, but I'll give a quick explanation of what happens here...for those of you who are new. I booked the flight to Frankfurt, told Kendra that I booked it to Stuttgart, so Kendra got our flight to Dresden from Stuttgart. Oopsie. This mistake ended up being not so bad though. Once we got to Frankfurt (the airport is actually a couple of hours away from Frankfurt) we had to explore our options. We quickly figured out that a flight to Dresden was out of the question. The costs of a same-day flight in Germany close to Christmas is enough to drain the red from Rudolphs nose AND Santas suit. (HA!)
The best option, and what we eventually decided on was renting a car and driving to Dresden. It was the cheapest, most time-efficient way...at least that's how it seemed in the begining.

I really don't want to get into too much detail, but let's just say that the Germans are great at many things, but labeling roads is NOT one of them. Of course it would have helped if Kendra and I stuck to the main roads, but we decided that since we have a car and time to waste, we may as well take the scenic route. Well, several u-turns, cursing fits of rage, and a few hours behind schedule we pulled into Dresden at about midnight, and we were finally able to find the apartment at about 2am. Instead of waking up the people who had the keys we spend the night in the car. How's that for excitment?

The night in the care was so cold. We didn't have any blankets, pillows, sleeping bags, or heavy winter clothing. But we made it through most of the night and were able to get into the apartment at about 7am. The next 10 days or so would be spent in what to us is that lap of luxury. An apartment all to ourselves, phone numbers of people who would be willing to help us, a map of the tram/bus system, and a Dresden guide book. It was wonderful, relaxing, and just what the doctor had ordered.

Not much happened during these ten days. We just did a lot of relaxing and soaking in of the Western world. We did do quite a bit of exploring. The things that stand out the most were the christmas markets and the architecture. (I'll try to post some pictures later. Morocco doesn't seem to want to give up that much bandwidth right now)

We also made a great new friend. Laquas left a phone number for one of Jeans co-workers, Chee Wan. So we called Chee Wan and had a blast. She showed us some really cool stuff in Dresden, took us out for drinks (3 Belgian beers = BAD) and then led us to an amazing Taiwanese restaurant on our last night there. We spent 3 days with her and had such a blast. Thanks Chee Wan!!!!

Spain - 22/10/2006: Part 2 - the goods.

2006-11-22T15:04:00.000-08:00

So here it is...the long-awaited, highly-anticipated nun story. There's so much presure built up now I hope I don't disappoint.

As I believe I said before, there was really only one thing I wanted to do while I was in Madrid, and that was to find the cloistered nuns and buy some cookies from them. There's really no need to review what I said last time...so I'll just start where I left off last time.

Just like I promised, we found the correct door rather easily. There a few steps one must go through in order to recieve and enjoy the goodies.

Step 1. Finding the right door and pushing the right button.

Step 2. Once inside the convent, there is a little hallway that leads to the turnstile where the goods are recieved. Behind the turnstile is a nun (this is an assumption, since you can't actually see the person you're interacting with). The idea is to tell her what kind of baked good you want, place the money in the turnstile.

Step 3. The turnstile turns (likey-doo), the money disappears, and the treats appear! (This makes all little boys and Dougs happy)

Step 4. Of course, with cookies in hand, you can't wait until getting back to the hotel or hostel to dig in to the bag. Luckily, the nuns have a nice little bench for people to sit on that's perfect for eating cookies.

Step 5. EAT THE COOKIES!!!!

The trick is to make the bag last for more than one sitting. It's rather difficult, but we manged to get the cookies back to the hostel for everyone else to give them a try. I had talked this place up so much that everyone was pretty excited to try the treats. And they were delicious, and well worth the trouble to find.

I Kissed a Prostitute

2006-11-11T10:57:00.000-08:00

It may be a little while before I can finish the Madrid story. But I remember another story from my most recent trip to Casablanca that I think I should tell.

I went to Casa last weekend to get a new external hard drive. During the week prior I had asked several friends to go with me, but they all had other plans, so I had planned on going by myself. After all, I new where I needed to go, I knew of a good hotel, and it couldn't have hurt to have time alone anyway. I just wanted to go for the night. I would get there Friday night, get up early Saturday, find a hard drive, and take the train back to Meknes in the afternoon. Things never go as planne.

First, Rachel's plans changed. She decided she didn't want to spend all weekend away from campus, like she had planned. So she joined me. Two is a good number. She can keep me company. Then, I ran into Justin. He and Christian had planned to spending the weekend in Rabat, but decided they'd rather go to Casa with me. Four is managable. At least we could pair up and I'd be able to get what I needed done. Plus, they planned on staying all weekend, so we wouldn't have to try to organize a departure time. Then I talked to John. He and Cassie had planned on going to Casa and asked if they could tag along. Six people.

We all planned on meeting outside of the cafeteria at 3pm. We were waiting for John and Cassie to show up. Christina was decided to call John to see where they were, but as she went for her phone, John called. He said that he and Cassie would meet at the train station in Meknes. They were going to leave a little later so they could ride with Tyler and Marnie. 8 people. So long nice relaxing day trip to Casablanca.

Don't get me wrong. I LOVE all of these people. They are a lot of fun. But I was looking forward to a nice, quiet, quick trip to Casablanca.

Once we got settled into our hotels in Casa, we decided to find a place to eat. Christina had heard of a good mexican restaurant by the Twin Center that we decided to go to. Once we got there (it was hard to miss as it had a giant neon sign in front that read "MEXICO") I noticed a guy laying face-down on the sidewalk in front of the place. My immediate thought was "Nice. Just like Mexico!" I pointed him out to Tyler, without saying a word. Tyler walked up to him to check on him. He crouched down, nudged the guy, and asked him he was okay. The guy, who was breathing rather heavily replied in a winded tone "Shut-up". We took this as a hint that he didn't to be bother, so we walked up to the restaurant. We were greeted by the owner of the restaurant. We told him about the guy on the ground and HE went over to check on him, as he was obviously concerned about having a situation in front of his establishment. The man leaned down, said a few things, then ran into the building saying "He's Diabetic!".

As it turns out, he wasn't telling Tyler to "Shut-Up", but was saying "Sugar". We stood there knowing what to do when the man emerged from the restaurant with a bowl of sugar and a glass of water. By this time another man had stopped to see what was happening. They sat him up and supported him as he was too weak to sit up by himself. I can honestly say that I have never seen anyone devour a bowl of sugar like that before. The amazing thing is how he began to come alive after he got the sucrose into his system. Tyler, feeling VERY bad for misunderstanding the boy, (by this time we had seen that he was young, no older than 18) was over helping the other men. After a while he was feelng better. But to make sure he was going to be okay, we brought him inside with us so we could keep an eye on him. He sat with us and we bought him a meal.

It turned out he was from Rabat and was in Casa to find a clinic that gave out free medicine to diabetics. I'm not sure if he was homeless or not, but it certainly didn't sound like he had a home or system of support in Rabat. He wasn't able to find the clinic so we helped him finger through a phonebook to find the address. Well, we didn't have any luck finding it, and he decided to just go back to Rabat in the morning. We gave him some money for the bus ride and parted ways after the meal.

We all felt really bad for him, but were pretty helpless. He didn't speak English, and none of us spoke his dialect very well so we were also limited in communicating with him. However, when we left he was looking a lot better, and he took a bottle of sugar water with him to avoid another such episode.

After eating, we wanted to go to Rick's Cafe (from the movie "Casablanca"). I had been there on my previous trip to Casa and was okay with going again. It's a nice place, and my only criteria for the night was to find Bailey's and Cubans, which Rick's had. But when we got to Rick's, it was closed. So, I suggested going to the Hyatt, which is the other place I was sure had Bailey's and Cubans. It was closed too. Lame. Apparantly this particular city with the population of over 3million shuts down after midnight.

Rachel remembered a club down the street that was open late the last time she was in Casa. We followed her a couple of blocks to a loud night club with large-ish bouncers at the front door. I was sure I wasn't going to get in, but we walked right passed them and into the dark club. We found a booth to sit at and were greeted by an old Spaniard. I asked him is they had Bailey's and Cuban Cigars. He said "yes", or the equivalent to, and left. He came back with a full, unopened bottle of Bailey's and asked me for 850dirhams (approximately $100). I nearly shat myself. He then showed us a "menu" (a printed piece of paper with prices on it) which confirmed that price of the entire bottle of the liqour. Upon reviewing the sheet, we found that a beer was 80dirhams (about $10) and the rest of the drinks following suit. I than asked him about the cigar. I can't recall the exact price, but it was also ridiculous.

For some reason John felt compelled to order a $10 beer. So we sat and waited for it to come. After the man left the table with his order, I noticed a girl standing by our table. I was sitting at the end of the table, leaving myself wide-open to introduction. She leaned over, grabbed my hand as if to shake it, and kissed both of my cheeks. This is custom in Morocco and is the equivalent to a hand-shake in American culture. She then proceeded to do the same with everyone at the table. She didn't say a word, but just kind of looked at me. Tyler then noticed that she was showing off her stomach. She was a prostitute. I kissed a prostitute.

The situation was pretty awkward. I feel more so for her than for any of us, as we were just able to ignore her, which we did. She eventually left, found a more accomodating young chap, and proceeded to make-out with him. Well, John finished his over-priced beer and we left. The night was over. We all walked back to the hotel, went to our rooms, and went to sleep.

The next day, after much looking, I found an external hard drive, and Rachel and I left Casablanca by 5pm, and I kissed a prostitute.

Spain - 22/10/2006. Part 1.

2006-11-09T14:40:00.000-08:00

The details of the trip are already starting to get a little hazy. It's been over a week since I got back and almost two weeks since I was in Madrid. Here's what I remember:

We didn't have much time to recover from the "Mad-Ride" the next morning. We had to be out of our hostel by 11pm. This meant not only waking up early (or, what felt early since we didn't get back to the hostel until after 4am) but also lugging my enormous suitcase through the city again. I'm not sure if I mentioned this earlier, but before we left I had a "brilliant" idea. Since Brittany and I were going to sticking together for the duration of the trip, and all I had for luggage were my giant suitcases, I decided that Brittany could just share one of mine, therefore we aren't dragging two suitcases, two backpacks, and other random bags around Spain. Where my plan failed was in the fact that my suitcase would be FULL with stuff, enough for two people for one hole week plus whatever we happened to purchase, and of course I would be the one carrying it the whole time.

We had a little difficulty finding the next hostel we were to be staying at. We didn't have an address, only that it was 100 meters from the metro. One of many things it didn't say was that the metro stop was in the middle of the city and there were several hostels within 100 meters. It also didn't help that it wasn't visible from the metro, as we had to walk 100 meters down the street, take a left, then walk another half block to find it. Oh, it was raining also.

Once we found our hostel, everyone decided to go out. I, however, wanted to stay in for the night and get some reading done. Much to the displeasure of everyone else, I did just that.

The next day I set out to find the ONE thing I wanted to see while in Madrid. There is a convent in the Plaza del Conde de Miranda that I had heard about. The convent (if I remember correctly it was the Convento De Monte Cristo) houses cloistered nuns who well baked goods for raise money. It is hard to find, but once you do find it It's supposed to be worth the search.
So the next morning I set out by myself with a map in hand to find the convent.

It took a while, but I finally found the right door, with a little help from a local bag-lady. Giddy with anticipation, I pushed the button to get let in...and nothing happened. The little bag-lady urged me to push it again, and I did. Again, nothing happened. Another lady who was passing by suggested that they wouldn't let me in since they were having mass. I then noticed the sign that I had previously overlooked which said that they were effectively closed between 1pm and 4pm for services. It was 1:20. So I decided this was a good time to do some more wondering.

I worked my way back to the hostel where I found Kendra. She had been out on her own as well and returned from a disappointing trip to a museum that was also closed. I told her that I had found the convent and we decided to go out together to see some more sights and eventually end up back at the convent.

We set off to the Plaza Real which is home to an emaculate cathedral and the royal palace. We first went to the cathedral and were very impressed by the lay-out and decoration. Unfortunately my camera battery decided to die, so I wasn't able to get too many pictures, but I did manage to squeeze out a few:

I always feel so bad because my words and photos can never sufficiently show how amazing these places are. They are so big, breath-taking, and awe-inspiring. But this is what I have to work with so it will have to suffice until you yourselves can come see these amazing accomplishments in architechture and history.

After we left the Plaza Real, Kendra and I set to find the nuns again, Having been there once already we were able to find it easily. This time, we got in...

...to be continued...

Spain - 21/10/2006

2006-10-31T11:28:00.000-08:00

MADRID

Brittany and I got to Madrid around 10am that morning. This was our first sign of true Western civilization for almost two months. We got a cab to the hostel we were staying at (Hostel Ole)

There we met up with the rest of our party (Kendra, Natalie, and Rachel. They had already been there for a full day, since they took the non-adventurist route, (aka wussies) and flew into Mardid Saturday morning. We sent out to explore Madrid. The first order of business was to get food. Kenrda went off on her own while the rest of us got some good old fashioned American cuisine, i.e. KFC and Burger King, AND I got to eat a donut for the first time since I left the U.S. (mmmmmmmmm).
(The gals)

After lunch, Rachel, Natalie, Kendra, Brittany and I went to the Museo Nacional Del Prado to get out fill of culture. The museum was beautiful and we spent about an hour there. I don't have any photos due to the fact that we weren't allowed to pictures from the inside, and it was raining pretty hard on the outside. After the Mueso Del Prado we walked to another museum, which was closed.

(Outside the closed museum figuring out what to do next)

We had time to kill, but had plans on going to a bull fight later that evening. So we killed time by shopping and visiting the Plaza Mayor. Plaza Mayor is a huge plaza constructed in the 1600's which held "open market, jousting, and public hanging". As far as I know, there is no longet public hangings in the plaza, but there are quite a few shops and artists around the plaza, and apparently, when the weather is nice, the plaza is filled with tables and chairs occupied by people enjoying the sun, food, and drinks. However, when we were in Spain it was chilly, cloudy, and rainy. So the plaza was virtually dead.
(The archway in the middle of the picture is one of several portals into the Plaza)
(Plaza Mayor)
(Plaza Mayor)

After the Plaza, we set off to the bullfight. We were pretty excited to see this event, and had purchased our tickets online prior to the show. We on the metro (subway), got lost, found two nice little old ladies to help us, got back on the metro, got to the arena, and found out the bullfight had been canceled due to the weather. We were pretty upset. There wasn't another fight scheduled for the remainder of our time in Madrid, so we got refunds and found the nearest pub to drink our sorrows away.
(The lines for refunds in front of the arena)

That night, we had plans to partake in a "Pub Crawl" from Madride. The Crawl included: 3 Mad-guides, 4 Mad-bars, 4 Mad-free shots, 1 free admission to a Mad-dance club, and a night to remember forever. The guides were Gary (an Irish lad), Fernando (a mexican lothario) and Isabella (not really her name, but for some reason I can't remember it-a Spanish dame of unspeakable cuteness). I won't go into details since they aren't of any great consequence, but we did have fun. We met at the "Bear" in one of the plazas, and went on the pub crawl with some other Americans from the Boston-area, who were on break from their university in Scottland, and a few random locals.

(Natalie, Rachel, Brittany, Kendra)

(The Mad-Guides)

The final bar on the crawl was a salsa club, which Brittany, Natalie, and I didn't make it to. After the third bar we had had enough of the Madridian night-life and decided to call it a night. However, Kendra and Rachel went to the club, and aside from Fernando trying to make-out with them, they had a good time also.

P.S. Kendra DID get me to dance, albeit for a very brief moment. Don't worry, no one got hurt.

Spain - 20/10/2006

2006-10-29T09:36:00.000-08:00

O Espania! How I love thee.
I don't even know where to start. the begining it typically a good place, but it's so bland compared to the rest of the week. Of course I am tainted by having the actual experience and most of you have no idea what I've been doing for the past 9 days, so it's only fair to get you caught up. So here it, the begining:

No trip is worth the time if one doesn't encounter obstacles and problems along the way. These normal occurances make the good times so much better and help one to keep perspective. We encountered a few problems. Some small, some big, but none were impossible to overcome.

20/10/2006 - The trip began slowly. I got done with class at 1pm and went to my dorm to pack. I never pack before the day of travel. The orginal plan was for Brittany and I to go it alone, but we picked up Peter and Christoph along the way. We met up at the cafeteria around 3:30 and took off. We had to switch trains in Sidi Kacem (which will come into play again later, so remember that name) and had some time to kill while waiting for the train which continues on to Tangier.
Here's us...waiting for the train to show up.
Peter showing Brittany some love.

We got to Tangier around 11pm and found a room for the night. The hotel we stayed at was called the Hotel Gibraltor, which was more of a Hostel than a Hotel.

This is the man who ran the hostel that night. I can't remember his name, but he was really nice...much like most Moroccans.
Here is a view of Tangier from our balcony the next morning.

I went to bed early, but Peter, Christoph (aka "Germany"), and Brittany went out to see if they could find food and beer. From what I gathered, they were able to find food, but didn't have any luck with the beer, which could have something to with the fact that they were in a Muslim country, looking for beer, during Ramadan.

The next day we went to the ferries. Brittany, Germany and I took the same ferry to Algeceras and Peter got on a ferry to Tarifa.
Tangier

This is also where we encounter our first problem. None of us had eaten, and I hadn't had any food since the previous afternoon. We simply figured that we would get food on the ferry. Luckily there was a cafe on the ferry. Un-luckily they didn't take Dirhams...of which we had plenty, and only took Euros, of which Germany had 6. We were so hungry and disappointed but Germany was gracious enough to share his wealth. So, after much discussion we made a decision to spend our precious euros as wisely as possible:
3 beers = 6 Euros...perfect! (Brittany packed the crackers before we left Ifrane)
Germany caught doing some air-guitar.

The ferry ride was amazing. My whole experience here being one of many firsts (flying, seeing the ocean, leaving the continent, etc...) it is only appropriate that this be the first time that I ride a boat of this size across the first sea I've ever crossed into Spain (a country and continent that I have never visited). I spent a lot of time on the deck watching the deep blue water and the many frieghter ships in the strait. I honestly cannot describe what it felt like to be on that boat.
After about an hour, we got to Algeceras

Once in Algeceras, Germany got on a bus to Portugal and Brittany and I found a cab to the train station. This is where we encounter problem #2.

I am a little better than Brittany when speaking the Arabic language. This is only due to the fact that I have had one more year of the language than she has. She took 3 or 4 years of French in high school, and I took a year or two of Spanish. We figured that between the between the two of us, we should be able to muster up enough foreign languages to get about anywhere. We were wrong. First of all, our combined skills in French and Arabic did absolutely no good in Spain. Second of all, you'd be amazed at how many people in Spain DON'T speak English. Third, I suck at Spanish. We waltzed up to the ticket counter to get tickets to Madrid, which was easy enough. The man at the counter understood the word "Madrid", and due to the fact that we were in a train station he was able to assume that we wanted tickets for a train to Madrid. We were able to understand what he said as well: "9:45, Madrid 9:15", which we took to mean that the train left Algeceras at 9:45 that night, and go to Madrid at 9:15 the next morning. However, the time was only 4pm and we didn't feel like waiting 5 hours. We tried to find out if we could catch an earlier train, or a train "rapido" (rapid train). He knew that we wouldn't understand the reasoning, so he simply shook his head and said "no". Meanwhile, a French who was going the same direction as us was trying to tell us something in French, which is also when Brittany realized that she had forgotten almost all the French she had learned in high school.

We came to terms with the fact that we weren't going anywhere until 9:45 that night, and decided to get settled in. We found a locker to put our bag in and figured we'd go out to see the town. Before we left though, I went outside of the station and found an "official" looking man ("official" because he was wearing a neon yellow vest with a word similar to the english word "security" on the back), and attempted to get more travel information from him. He spoke a little more english, and was more than happy to tell us why we couldn't catch an earlier train, or a train "rapido". He said: "Yes, there is a rapid train, but there's one problem". He had my full attention. He decided that body language told the story better, put his arm out in front of him, with his fingers together and his hand perpendicular to the ground, moved it forward a few inches as if it is a moving train, and then flopped his hand over so his palm was parallel to the ground. I immediately knew what he was telling me...the train crashed, and there was no way we were going to be able to get on that train tonight, or anyday soon. He was also able to tell me that we had to take a bus to a town two hours away from Algeceras, and take a train the rest of the night to Madrid. With this information, Brittany and I decided it would be best to get a meal, maybe a couple of cervesas, and do a little exploring. So, we did.

We made our way back to the train station, boarded the bus that was waiting for us outside the depot, and left Algeceras. We sat in the back and had some great conversation. We got to the town we were going to. We boarded the train around 11pm, found our car, and slept until Madrid.

Casablanca

2006-10-25T12:13:00.000-07:00

Casablance is a great city. It is not my favorite, but it is great. I have some good stories from the trip, many of which I plan on posting for you all to read. But I am not ready to get into them just yet. First, some pictures:

Casablance is a great city. It is not my favorite, but it is great. I have some good stories from the trip, many of which I plan on posting for you all to read. But I am not ready to get into them just yet. First, some pictures:

Sefrou

2006-10-09T04:19:00.000-07:00

My anthropology class requires that the students form groups and to an "antropological" study in the town of Sefrou. We went to Sefrou this last Saturday to do this study. My group, made of Soumaya, Ali, and myself, chose to a study on the importance of education in Morocco, and chose elementary school children as parents of children in school as the participants of our study. IN order to conduct this study, we were allowed to visit children in the classroom setting and interview them. We visted two different classes: a fifth grade and a sixth grade class. The study was a lot of fun. I don't speak that well yet, so I didn't get to interview the children, but while Ali and Soumaya were questioning the kids, I sat in the front of the classroom taking picture and attempting to hold a conversation with a few of the kids. There's something rather humbling about talking to a child who can communicate better than myself, a 27 years old college student.
We had a lot of fun. I wasn't looking forward to the trip, but found myself enjoying almost every moment of it (the van ride sucked...big time. Let's just say that the people of Morocco are smaller than your typical American, especially one as sizable as me.)
The kids were great and really liked having us there. I could tell that they hadn't seen too many Americans, as all of them couldn't take their eyes off me. They were very polite, curious, and mishievous, especailly when their teacher wasn't looking.

We walked to the medina to find some adult subjects to talk to. While we there I was accosted on two different occasions. First, while Soumaya and Ali were talking to a lady with a child just outside the medina, an old man came up to me and just looked at me. Being the polite young chap that I am, I said "Salaam" and shook his hand. He took my hand, and would't let go. So I continued to talk, telling him that I am American and I study in Ifrane. Soumaya saw me talking to him and came over to explain more what we were doing there. They started talking, and after a bit she had to lead me away. Apparently he was telling her how much he likes me.
The second instance happened a little deeper in the Medina. We ran into some other students from our class and we stood talking about how things we going with our studies. Out of nowhere, a little, old, toothless lady came up to me and starting talking and hugging me. She would hug me, let go, say something, and hug me again. Soumaya and some of the other students told me she kept saying "God bless you."

After we got back to the meeting spot, I told my instructor of the of the experience. That on two serpate occassions with two different peple, I was admired and loved by complete strangers. He mentioned that it was probably because of the fact that the Peace Corps sends people to Sefrou a lot. I told him it was definately my natural lure and North Dakot charm. What can I say? People just love me!

Here's some pictures:

Ramadan: Day 3

2006-09-26T12:33:00.000-07:00

Today is my third day of fasting. I can honestly say that it's not that bad. The first day was the worst. I was hungry all day, and the line to get food was horrible:

The first meal of the day is called f'tour. It's essentially breakfast. They have pasteries, coffee, orange juice, msmmen, soup, and other things. In order to take part of the feast, you have to buy a ticket from the cafe, which gets you in to the room where everything is already prepared. You can also go through the normal food line to get other things. So when you enter the room, the tables are covered in food and place settings.

The first day of the fast, I made the common mistake of wanting too much food. Everything I saw I wanted to eat. So I got into line to get some of the pasteries and quickly learned an aspect of Moroccan culture that wouldn't be too welcome back at home. The people in line are herded in between the food prep counter and a divider, creating a little walkway, at the end of which is a lady at a computer who takes your "cash wallet" (student ID) in order to pay for our food. I suddenly learned that people outside of the "walkway" were reaching over the people patiently waiting in line, grabbing food or tea, and going to the front of the line to purchase their items. Irate. Becaue of this, it took me at least twice as long as it should have to get through the line and to my table. I was pretty pissed. It may have mostly been because I was hungry and these people were keeping me from remedying that.

Other than that, the food was good. I ate a lot. Perhaps too much. But it was good. Later that night I was chatting with my roommate and told him about the "food line" episode, to which he replied: "Welcome to Morocco".

Yesterday and today weren't too bad at all. I didn't really get hungry until about 5pm, and we eat around 6:20. So really I only suffered for a little over an hour. I am happy that I'm doing this though. I have started to understand a bit more about the spiritual side of the fasting. I just hope I can make it the whole month.

Tajine

2006-09-23T12:17:00.000-07:00

This is what I eat. This is tajine. This particular dish is what I ate this evening. It's called "tagine poulet aux cirton", and it is goooooood.

Ramadan begins tomorrow, which means it is the first day of fasting. I have decided to do my best to fast along with pretty much everyone else in Morocco. So tonight I went to town for a nice dinner. This task was a little more arduous than usual as I am pretty sure that I broke a toe yesterday. Let me begin with my toe.

I've been attempting to get some information about my options for course next semester. Specifically, I need to take a specific class next semester if I want to graduate from NDSU in the spring. I was on my way to speak to the one individual who could answer my request, and just let me say that walking can be treacherous....especially when you have to go up stairs....and the stairs are not all the same height. To put it bluntly, I stubbed the s**t out of the toe next to the big toe on my left foot, and fell. Unfortunately there was no one around. No one to laugh, or to say "Look at the stupid American!".
So I limped up the rest of the stairs and did what I had to do.
The rest of the day I just assumed that I jammed it, that the damage was minimal, and nothing more than temporarily inconvenient. I believed this, atleast until this moring when I woke up and my toe was black and blue in spots, and still really hurt. Because of the condition of my toe, I was forced to stay here instead of going to Fes for the weekend. A couple my friends and I had planned to take a one day class in cooking Moroccan food. Due to my injury, I stayed home.
So today I've done mostly nothing. Some reading. Played Playbabble for a little while. Took a shower. Everyone is gone from campus, so here I sit all by myself. I decided, as I mentioned earlier, to go into town for a nice dinner. Basically I wanted to pig out before the fasting begins. So I took a cab to my favorite restaurant and ordered my favorite dish. And it was goooo-oood.
I guess that's about it. I ate, now I'm going to start some more reading. I just wanted to show you all what I ate, and it appears I got wrapped up in telling a story about it. But that's all. Bye.

Still MORE Rabat.

2006-09-22T05:59:00.000-07:00

This last group of photos is just a gathering of random shots I took from the tail end of the trip.

This is a picture of the sidewalk across the street from the Cathedral.

On the train ride back to Meknes the train was overflowing with people returning home after the weekend. Justin, Nate, and myself had to stand almost the entire way. The train cars have compartments that comfortably fit 6 people, but most were filled with 8 and the walkway that runs along side the compartments were also packed with people. This is a picture of Justin looking very comfortable and taking in the view of the landscape.
The last four pictures are just shots of the landscape from the window of the train.

More Rabat

2006-09-21T10:56:00.000-07:00

So Rabat has by far been my favorite city. I keep joking about how I'm just going to move there instead of coming home. First off, I AM coming home. Don't worry about that. But, I am going to pursue work with the State Department after I've finished school, and I AM going to request work in the Embassy in Rabat. Sorry mom, but international work in Canada just isn't for me.
So here's some more pictures. Most of them are from the Kasbah garden. I found a better picture of Parliment and that's in here, as well as the St. Pierre Cathedral which was built in the 1930's.
Keeping checking back. I still have more pictures to post, and I will hopefully get to that soon.

Bye!

Rabat Photos 2

2006-09-19T06:16:00.000-07:00

Imagine that you have never seen an ocean. Never,with your own eyes, have you wittnessed something so big and so amazing. You have always wanted to, and knew that you would someday, but have yet to see it.
Now imagine that you are walking through an area that is completely enclosed in massive walls. These walls have been in existence for one thousand years. You are walking, taking in all the fantastic classic doorways, shops, and walls all painted in white and blue. Now, one of the people you are with says that if you keep walking a little more, there will be a "t" in the path and there should be a cool view. So you continue walking, take the left, which opens onto a large platform, and you see this:

(Justin, Nate, Christina, and Natalie)

This was my first time ever seeing the ocean with my own two eyes. It was one of the most amazing experiences of my life, and it happened just like I described above. The only thing I left out was my response when Nate, our "guide" asked me what I thought. All I could muster was "It's kinda big...".

Rabat Photos 1

2006-09-18T19:08:00.000-07:00

Here is the first of what will be several posts of pictures from my trip to Rabat. I'm sorry that you only get little snippets but my blog-site is acting up and it takes about 10 minutes for each picture to upload.
So, I'm not going to write too much during this photo representation of the city. The stories are minimal and the picture do a sufficient job of illustrating what I saw, and what I mean to pass on to you.
Enjoy.

This is a fountain that was half a block down the street from the hotel we stayed at.

The street that our hotel was on had a giant boulevard running down the middle. As you can see, the boulevard is lined with huge palm trees. Rabat is the capital of Morocco, and the building on the left of the screen is the parliament building. I don't think I got a better shot of parliament, but one of the others may have.

We walked through the Old Medina to get to this Kasbah. It was huge...too big to fit into a photo. I did take a video of it that I will try to post as soon as I find out how to post video. (The video takes a panoramic view of the Kasbah...and Nates head).

These are the stair leading to the main entrance of the Kasbah. At the bottom of the stairs there is another doorway leading into the Kasbah gardens. I do have some pictures of the gardens, but you'll have to wait to see those because the pics take so long to load, and also because I want to post these in chronological order: between the entrance of the Kasbah and the gardens of the Kasbah is an event that has left me a different person. And of course, you'll have to wait for that too!
The Suspense!!!!
I'm like a drug dealer like that....I keep you coming back...I hope.

2006-09-06T15:14:00.000-07:00

THE OLD CITY

Nothing I have evern witnessed could have prepared me for what I was about to walk into. From the pictures on the previous post wou get a good idea of what the streets of the old medina are like: crowded, narrow, without symetry or pattern, chaotic. Not only did I have to compete with masses of people, but there were other obstacles.

The first obstacle is a tricky one. As a tourist, it's nice to have a guide. Someone to make sure that I don't go down a wrong alley, of the 9,400+ alleyways and streets that make up the old medina. Someone to take me to the shops that have authentic, quality products, at a not so inflated price. Someone to translate when needed and someone to shoo away the people who may want to mug or exploit me. This is very tricky. See, all tourists carry a sign with them that scam-artists and faux guides can see. These people seek you out. They see you and persist on helping you find the "good" shops. They say they don't want any money, but only want to practice their english. They want to show you the "real" medina and provide information about the city and it's history. Again, these people seek you out. And when they seek you out, it's generally not a good idea to go with them.

The young boy who insisted on helping us was quite possibly one of these faux-guides. Of course, he was also possibly a young man who genuinely wanted to help us. It is possible that his uncle has a little shop deep in the oldest part of the medina and this boy brings people to his shop to buy his genuine products. The boy may have genuinely wanted to practice his english and hopes of one day traveling to America, or going to school. The one thing I have learned by being in the medina, however, is that things are rarely genuine...especially when they seek you out.

We will never know what his true intention was. We didn't allow him to lead us too deep into the medina. We were just as persistant as he was about getting out before dark. His type wasn't the only type to seek us out though. Soon after we entered the medina, I was confronted by a guy, probably in his early twenties, who rushed up beside me and asked me if "I wanted something good to try before I die". Now, I know this guy wasn't threatening my life. I know he was just trying to get me to buy some drugs from him, but this seriously creeped me out. I ignored him and kept walking.

On the way out we were confronted by another guy, about the same age, who just kept shouting "Charlie Brown" at us. I'm not sure what this phrase means. Perhaps it has something to with drugs (brown = heroin) or maybe "Charlie Brown" is so distinctly American that that's how he identifies the tourists. Whatever it meant, it wasn't the last time someone yelled that to us.

The next day we decided to enter the medina again. This time we weren't going to be bothered by anyone. We were going to ignore anyone who tries to get us to follow them and just carry on with our business...or so we thought.

We made it through the first part of the medina, which opened up into a sort of parking lot. On one side was a couple of archways that led to an old palace. On the other was a low doorway that led to the oldest of the old medina. This is where we were approached by a couple of people. One man, in his late thirties, wanted 100dhs (approx. $10) so lead into the old medina and to show us the old shops. We declined and were approached by another boy, about twenty. He offered his services, free of charge. He only wanted to practice his english. We tried to tell him no, but he insisted on at least showing us down the right path to the old medina.

Once we entered the old medina, i noticed that the first man had followed us. I became very uneasy and insisted that we leave the medina all together. The others agreed, but the boy who was leading us became very aggetated and insistant. We stood our ground and he began to lead us back. As we left, I noticed that man was still following us. He trailed us at a distance, but always within eyeshot. He followed us all the way out of the medina and into the streets, where we were confronted by anther kid shouting "Charlie Brown". We were all on edge at this point and proceeded to where we had previously seen taxis. We got in a cab, noticed that we were still followed. Not only by the same man, but by the new kid. Once we got into the cab, I saw our two tails chatting together under a doorway. Then the kid ran over to the taxi and told us he was going to get in a cab and follow us "to make sure we get back okay". Luckily we never saw him again.

Again, I can't be sure of the intent of the people we encountered, but I'm very upset about the events. I wanted to go into the city, buy some authentic goods, and take some pictures. These people made this very difficult and I feel cheated of a wonderful experience. However, I do plan on going back. Next time I will hopefully have a native friend accompany me. Someone who knows the language and the tricks of these people. Someone I can trust.

2006-09-03T07:31:00.000-07:00

FEZ

I just returned to Al-Akhawayn from an overnight trip to Fez. I don't know what to say about it, other than the fact that it was crazy. Just crazy. I could go on and on about what happened, what I saw, and what I experienced but if I were to do that this entry would be too large for anyone to sit and read. So I'll give you the Mc-version of what happened (which will also be long...sorry).

Brian, Alex and I took a cab (Le Grande Taxi) from Ifrane to Fez yesterday afternoon. The cab, which would comfortably seat 5, seated 7. It was hot, we were hot, sweaty, and crabby.

It was a little less than an hour to Fez. the cab dropped us off at what seemed to be a central station for Le Grande Taxi's, only without any sort of building, organization or really any structured way of doing things at all. We peeled our selves out of the cab and began to walk, with no idea what-so-ever of where we were going or what we were doing. (Note:Fez is a city of 1million people and is very very hot).

We started walking and ended up asking directions from a boy named Abdullah. Abdullah was great. He didn't speak any english, but insisted on hanging out with us. He didn't try to lead us anywhere, just wanted to hang out. So we hung out with Abdullah for about an hour.

(Brian, Abdullah, Alex)

On our walk with Abdullah we passed a Hotel, which we decided to find again so we could have a place to stay for the night. The general plan was that we would get a room, get settled in, drop off our bags and take a cab (Le Petit Taxi) to the old part of Fez.

Fez is over 1400 years old and currently is the third largest city in Morocco. the city is seperated into two parts: New Fez-Al Medina Jedid, and Old Fez-Al Medina Bali. Old Fez is completely enclosed by a wall. I don't want to give you too much of the history of the town, but it's absolutely fascinating. I'll just show some picture and to a little comentary from here on out.

(Entrance to Al-Jedid)

Once we got into the old city, we were approached by a boy who wanted to guide us to the even older-inner part of the city. We were hesitant, but accepted, all in agreance that if any of us felt uncomfortable we would turn back. I can't remember our guides name, but he pointed out some things like an old Mosque:

(Brian, Alex, the kid in front of the Mosque)

The streets of old Fez were cramped and packed. A constant flow of people were constantly moving both directions with the occassional man leading a donkey or a scooter/moped. There was so much going on that I hardly got a chance to look at any of the shops. We had been walking for about 15 minutes when we decided that we had seen enough and wanted to get back. It was getting dark and were a little nervous of being in such a crowded area after dark.

(Streets of Al-Jedid)

So, we took a cab back to the hotel, watched tv, had dinner, and went to sleep.

The hotel we got was also emaculate.

(Waiting room in Hotel Mounia)

(Travel Gnome and Fez skyline from our room)

Well, that's all I'm going to post for now. This is already long enough and I need to start my homework. I'll be posting more photos and stories.

2006-09-01T09:01:00.000-07:00

UH-OH

Two terrible things have just happened. I will list them in reverse chronological order, the purpose of which will soon be apparent.

1. I have just been introduced to a fellow musician. My roommate, Neyl, has a friend here on campus, Hassaam, who plays guitar. He has a group of people he plays with on campus and has invited me to "jam" with him sometime.

I had found myself thinking about trying to find people to play with, but had almost instantly tossed that idea from me mind. I keep telling myself that I'm here to study, and it becomes very obvious the other day that I NEED to buckle down and study Arabic. While playing music with other people would be fun, educational, and healthy, it's a distraction that I'm not sure I can afford to have. I'll just have to take it bit by bit and attempt to control myself...but what if we rock!!! Then I guess I'll have to succumb to the ever powerful rock'n roll and let the sweetness ooze from my fingertips.

DISCLAIMER: The content of this second part may be offensive, gross, disgusting, or just unappealing to some people. I suggest that if you are one of these people, DO NOT read any further. I do not accept responsibility for what may happen if you do.

Ok? Ok.

2. It's happening. It's happening and I can't stop it. It's not depression. Not anxiety or homesickness. It's not a sense of paranoia or culture shock. It's worse.....much worse.
Apparently my "body" isn't used to some of the food, liquids, or contents thereof that I have been consuming the past week. I am forced to visit the bathroom a few times a day and am kept awake due to the incessant grumbling coming from "below". That's right.....I have diarrhea. Bad. I'm hoping it passes soon, and I'm hoping that Neyl doesn't end up requesting a different dorm or roommate. It awoke me at 3am last night, kept me up for a couple hours, and has interrupted my daily routine not once, or twice, but thrice times today. Please God, help.

2006-08-29T15:45:00.000-07:00

I went into Ifrane again today. I wish I had more time to spend there. It's such a beautiful town. Here's a little bit about Ifrane.
It's a resort town about the size of Williston. It's a vacation spot for a number of Moroccans and during the summer months it is PACKED with people. The road into Ifrane is curvey, and when you get to the edge of town there's a lake on one side of the road. There are quite a few people playing games, chatting, and just hanging out there all the time. After a couple blocks you get to one of the shopping districts. One side of the road is lined with little shops and a couple restaurants. The other side has a small pond with a fountain in the middle. Both sides of the road are completely lined with people...walking, sitting, chatting. People everywhere. It's really cool to see so many people just hanging out outside in a town this small. I've eaten at a few places in town and can say that the food is good. It's hard to order though because everything is in French. So I just order pizzas because, well, pizza is pizza in French.
I've been assured that in a couple weeks there will be virtually no one in Ifrane. It will become almost deserted.
Anyway, that's enough rambling for now. Here's some more pictures.

These first couple are just of houses and a business in Ifrane. I've never been to Europe, but this is what I imagine a European town to look like, which isn't too surprising because there is a strong French influence in the area.

If you look closely at this picture, on the top of the house on both sides, you'll see a couple brown spots on the red-tile roof. You can't really tell by this picture, but those are HUGE bird nests. I'm not sure what kind of bird, but it's unmistakable from the ground.

More houses. It seems that all houses in Ifrane have a gate and a brick or cement fence in front of it.

These next two are of the people and park/fountain on the opposite side of the road from the shops. This picture doesn't do justice to exactly how many people are on the street, but it show how people are just hanging out. Behind the people sitting on the ledge is the pond with the fountain which will appear.....

...here. This seems to be the central meeting point of people. The first time I came to town the park around the pond was packed with people and there was loud music playing.

The people here wear such different, colorful clothes. And I don't mean different as in different from you and I. I mean different as in different from each other. I never see more than one person wearing the same shorts, or same pink polo shirt with their worn-out baseball caps cocked to one side. The people are pretty much all unique from what I've seen.

Anyway, that's it for now. Classes start tomorrow so I don't know when I'll be able to take/post more pics. I think some of us are going to travel to Fez this weekend. Fez is supposed to be pretty amazing. It's a lot bigger than Ifrane and it's not a tourist town. So don't exepct too much more from me this week.

2006-08-28T08:59:00.001-07:00

Here's the first set of pictures I've taken so far. A friend let me borrow a cord to connect my camera and computer, so you all can thank Brian.

These first couple pictures are just some shots of my dorm. So they're pretty boring, but you get to have a visual of where I will be spending most of my time. The first two are just pics of my room We have a big window that stays open most of the time. Even though it's quite warm here, there is almost always a cool breeze, and at night it even gets almost too cold to have the window open.

Now, those of you who know me know that I've never lived in the dorms. You also know that I don't like to share my bathroom, and you unfortunately know why. When I first decided to come here I knew I'd be sharing a bathroom AND have small living quarters with whomever gets assigned to be my roommate. Also, those of you who know me well enough know my sense of humor.

Having said that, I love the bathroom. It's the coolest bathroom I've ever had. Maybe I'm so excited because I came into this living situation under the impression that I'd be sharing a bathroom with the entire floor. So when I got to my dorm and saw that I had my own "cleaning area", I was ecstatic. So, having my own bathroom quite simply made my day. And here it is...

It's great. The shower is a little small, but then again I'm a little big, so what else can I expect. But, I hope you noticed the toilet at the right of the picture, because this is the absolute best part of the whole dorm. I HAVE A POOP ROOM! This is utterly amazing to me. It's a tiny room, with a toilet, a bidet, and a door that locks. So I can poop with the utmost privacy. You all have no idea how excited I am about this.

POOP ROOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is also proof to all of you nay-sayers who said I will have to poop in a hole in the ground. Pllllllllllllll............

I have some more pics I'm going to post soon. There a couple shots of campus and the area surrounding campus. I'm going into Ifrane again tomorrow with some friends and we're going to be the typical, annoying, stupid tourists and take a bunch of pictures of the town. Really guys, Ifrane is beautiful. I love it so much. So keep coming back to see more pics.
Doug

2006-08-23T12:10:00.000-07:00

I just met with Shura, my old Arabic instructor. She has a way of making me feel better about the decisions I make. I think it's that she genuinely believes in me and knows me, which is strange since I have only known her for a year.
I won't be returning to the United States over the winter break. At least I don't plan to. This means that I'll have three weeks to kill in a foreign country and I'm assuming not too many people will be sticking around campus over the break. This means that I will have the opportunity to do some traveling. I really want to see Spain and I have some friends and friends of the family who will be in Germany. The University may even the capabiliy of placing me with a family in Morocco during the vacation. Today, Shura offered to have me at her home in Egypt with her family. This is the type of kind gesture I've come expect from her. She will be back in Egypt for a few weeks over the break and her son is getting married while she's going to be home. This is honestly where I'd like to be over the break. Shura is certain that her sons (she has 3) would be more than happy to give me a tour of Cairo. This is probably going to be the most exciting part of the trip.

2006-08-10T20:06:00.000-07:00

If I were scared sh*tless, I'd have much cleaner shorts......

So today all the buzz has been about the foiled terrorist plots in London. This has me a little rattled, since I plan on flying into and out of London in two weeks from today. Is it an omen? A sign? Should I not go?
Well, me being stubborn me, I'm still going. But I am worried and a little scared. As if I wasn't nervous enough about have a panic attack miles above the ocean, now I have to worry about some jerk with nitrous in his/her nalgene bottle.
Today's events got me to thinking:

I promised myself that I wouldn't turn this blog into a forum for my typical political rants, but I have to get a couple things off my chest.
I think I'm becoming conservative. At least more than I was. This might just be the "growing up" process, but I find myself agreeing more and more with the republican foreign policy. While the better half of me is fighting this transition tooth and nail, I think my liberal side is losing.

1. Terrorism is a terrible thing. While the terrorists haven't had any successful attacks in the US since 9/11 they have been very accomplished at annoying the shit out of it. Their victories, while seemingly insignificant, have been great. Think about it. We have to take our shoes off before getting on an airplane. We can't take our water or toothpaste in our carry-ons. The lines at the airports are LONG, and we all know how we Americans hate standing in line. They have interrupted the flight plans of thousands of American travelers on more than one occasion. Airports are now MORE confusing and time consuming, and we Americans LOVE our time.

Which leads me to:

2. Wire taps? Racial profiling? Phone records? Secret surveillance? Go for it! Do whatever you have to do to make me safe. As a liberal I know the importance of our privacy and fully comprehend the potential repercussions of allowing our government to have Orwellianesque spying capabilities, but I want to live! I want to make it to Morocco and back alive. I want the only thing that I have to worry about on my flight to be whether or not the last mechanic to check over the plane I am on was competent or stoned. I hate to admit it, but G.W. is right. We are living in dangerous times and the government needs to have the tools to do whatever it needs to make us as safe as possible. However, there should be a committee set up to ensure that these powers are not being abused. (I don't trust the power elite THAT much). I'd rather have withering civil liberties than none because I'm f-ing dead. If and when the terrorist threat is gone, then things can be returned to normal. But as for now, protect my ass G.W. and house dems, get out of his way.

I need to wash myself now.

2006-08-06T22:22:00.000-07:00

Procrastination Pays Off...sorta.

It's been a while since I've posted anything on here, and I'm seriously past due (50 points to anyone who can tell me which of my favorite bands has a song called Past Due). I really hope that while I'm away I don't fall into the same lack-of-motivation-funk that I have found myself in while in Williston. Maybe I'm just talking to myself. Does anyone read this?

Anyway, here's another stateside update:
I still don't have my tickets for my trip, but I ATTEMPTED to get them tonight. My earlier searches showed plane tickets priced at around three-thousand dollars. That's a lot of money. More than I could ever hope to make during one summer. So I put off purchasing tickets in hopes that as time went on, prices would fall (kinda like Wall Street). Well tonight I tried to get me some areo-plane tickets. I called Northwest to see what they could do for me, and they could get me to Casablanca for just over three-thousand bones. I gave them my mommies credit card money, ready to bite the bullet, and her card (luckily) wasn't valid for that amount. So we had the nice lady on the phone hold the reservation for 24 hours so we could make a phone call to the bank. In the meantime my mother and I decided to look on Orbitz again, because I was finding flights for half as much. And much to our surprise, not only were they much cheaper, but I can also fly out of Fargo instead of Minneapolis for not much more money, AND I can even get to Fez (which is where someone from the university will pick me up and drive me to Ifrane...where the university is).

So yea. That's it. Tomorrow my mommy and myself will buy me some tickets for my trip, thus making it official. I'm fucking going to Morocco.

The End?

2006-06-25T19:17:00.000-07:00

Morocco Update:

Things just got more complicated. Just when I thought everything was set and all I had to do was ride out this summer.
I got my Financial Aid award letter from NDSU. They are going to give me $5,000 for each semester I will be in Morocco..which is about $10,000 short for the year. This is huge. If I can't get the loans I can't go. There is a possible solution though, but it involves me reducing my studies in Morocco to one semester.

1. MSU-Bozeman is giving me $2,000 for the first semester, which means I'd only have to come up with another $3,000 for the first semester.
2. I need two full years of a foreign language in order to get my double major. This is the main reason I wanted to do the full year in Morocco. It turns out that NDSU is going to be offering a second year of Arabic next year. I might be able to do my second half of my second year at NDSU after completing one semester in Morocco.
3. I need 10 weeks of study abroad for my double major. One semester would fulfill that requirement.

Phone calls must be made, people must be contacted. I have a lot to do the next couple days.
However, I feel like if I only do one semester in Morocco I'll be cheating myself out of a great experience. But I'll be saving myself alot of money.

2006-06-18T12:13:00.000-07:00

I'm In A Mood.

It's not secret that I'm not happy about being in Williston anyway. I love the friends that I have here. I'm so happy that I've been able to spend an incredible amount of time with my mom and sister, Ben and Pete, and have been able to see other friends I haven't seen for years. But I just don't like this town. I figured that once I got a job it wouldn't be so bad, and I guess I JUST started working again, but I still really miss Fargo and my friends there.

The past couple of days I've been in one of my usual lonely, mopey funks. It's been hard being home because there's always people here, and when there are no people around I still have to look after Louise, who is VERY demanding. I'd like to just have a weekend all to myself. No phone calls. No text messages. No dog to take outside...who still refuses to poop for me. (bitch)

Good news is that I'll be in Fargo next weekend, and I already have plans to spend Friday night at the Legion. That should be fun. Just need to make sure that as many people as possible show up.

2006-06-14T11:58:00.000-07:00

MY BOSS IS A GERMAN CARPENTER
(I thought it was funny)

I finally got a job...I think.
Starting tomorrow, I'll be working as a carpenter for my friends Corey's dad. It sounds like it will be super-exciting work. I've always enjoyed building things. The only problem is that the things I build are usually non-functioning and lack any sort of aesthetic quality.

I really hope things work our and this becomes my job for the summer. I'm going to get "orientated" tomorrow at 8am and will begin working on Monday.

In other news, Louise may be dead. I gave her a rawhide bone at 8:30am and I haven't seen her since. If you see a puppy that looks like this...

...and has a piece of rawhide protruding from her mouth-al region, please return her to me asap. thanks.

2006-06-05T19:20:00.000-07:00

Week 3:

I should be keeping, at the very least, a weekly log of events and updates. I'm going to start doing my best, but for now I'm going to squeeze 3 weeks into one post.

The first week I pretty much played golf and put off applying for jobs. I finally put in a few applications on Friday and made some phone calls.

The second week was a little more interesting. Let's start with the end of the first week:

SATURDAY: I got a phone call at about noon. It was a man named James and he was calling on behalf of Kim's Lawn Service. There was no application to complete for this job...just a phone number...and an answering machine. So James calls and asks me if I want to work. He tells me that "the guy who was supposed to work today didn't show up..." He wanted me to work at that exact moment. I declined, but told him that I'd be ready to work by Monday.

MONDAY: James calls again at noon. The conversation goes as follows...
James: "Yea, is this Dennis..Doug...there...whatever your name is?"
Me: "This is Doug."
James: "Yea, this is James. Do you want to work?"
Me: "Sure."
James: "Where're you at?"
Me: "You mean where am I right now? Do you want me meet you somewhere?"
James: "yea, what's your address? We'll come pick you up."
I give him the address and he says he'll be right over. I should mention first that my sister had told me stories about Kim's. Apparently they pull up to a job with a pick-up and a horse trailer. 5 or 6 people jump out of the trailer with lawn mowers, they mow for 20 minutes, load up in the trailer, and move on to the next job. Efficient. Back to the story.
James tells me to watch for him. He'll be in a white Ford pick-up pulling a brown horse trailer. He wasn't lying. Fortunately I didn't have to ride in the horse trailer...although the smell couldn't have been much worse than the smell of the back seat of the truck.

TUESDAY: Just Read This

WEDNESDAY: Well if it's not one thing, it's another. I started the day staining my grandma's patio. I was a good time. She made me some burgers and fruit. Then I went to work mowing lawns. I proceeded to get a sunburn on the back of my calves, back of my neck, forearms, face, and nose. I was in pain, for the second day in a row. Fun summer thus far. I can't wait to see what happens next.

THURSDAY: I'm really getting bored of typing. I worked...aaaaallll day. Stained g'ma's patio from 10am until 2pm then mowed lawns until 10pm.

FRIDAY: This is where things get interesting. I had been planning for quite some time to go to Minot Friday evening to stay with Amanda, then we were going to Fargo Saturday to get tattoos and to see Band of Horses. So I was only going to work from 9am until 4 or 5pm....but...my boss was in jail...so I didn't have to work. She was arrested on charges of cruelty to animals. She has 50 dogs, 80 horses, and other livestock on her farm. They were underfed and forces to live in confined quarters. So needless to say I didn't have to work on Friday. So I left Williston at 7pm for MInot. Amanda and I got our drink on, met up with Tanuel, David, Sandy, and Ryan, got our drink on some more, and left for Fargo Saturday afternoon.

BANDOFHORSES: The show was really really really really really good. Mt. Egypt opened for Band of Horses and he was amazing. I bought one of his cd's. Band of Horses was also amazing. The only crappy thing is that at this point I had been battling a sore throat and this night was the height of my pain. People kept talking to me, and when you are at a show, there is not talking, just yelling...so by the end of the night I was miserable. I just wanted to sit back, sip on my Sprite, and enjoy the music. If my throat didn't hurt so bad I would have been all about the talking, but it just hurt too bad. So there I was, sitting down, being accused by Amanda as being a "Crab-ass" and listening to some great music.

SUNDAY: Amanda and I drove back to Minot after having lunch with my sister and some friends. My voice was almost completely gone, and chloroseptic spray does not work...at all...and it's gross...

2006-05-27T11:21:00.000-07:00

Williston = Long Vacation.

I don't have a job yet, so I've been killing time by practicing my golf game. It really doesn't help that I hang out with Ben all the time, who is also unemployed. I'm going to have to find a job simply so I can supply my need for the plush green links of northwestern North Dakota. It's also been insanley beautiful weather the past week so I gots to take care of that.

Other news: I've lost a grand total of $57 playing poker with my friends, I've showered only every other day, I ran into some great old friends that I haven't seen for years, I've been drunk a couple times, I think Ashli is dead, Tara looks HOT in her sexy black dress, and Shelby has never been happier.

Doug

2006-05-21T21:29:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm in Williston. Like it or not, this will be my new town of residence for the next 3 months. I plan on job hunting tomorrow, but first I think I'll enjoy a round of golf with Ben and maybe Pete. It's going to be good to hang out with some of my old friends. There are a few people here who I spent a lot of time with during high school and even some of junior high, so it should be interesting.
Ben and Margot helped with my packing and moving. They are both so great and I truly appreciate their help. I couldn't have done it without them (so those of you who REALLY didn't want me to leave Fargo, you now know who to go after).

Wish me luck with the job hunt.

Doug

2006-05-18T23:02:00.000-07:00

Some people have asked me where Morocco is, so I've decided to post a map showing...well...where Morocco is.
As you can see, it's located on the North-Western coast of Africa, directly south of Spain, across the Strait of Gibraltar. Al Akhawayn Unversity is located just outside of Ifrane. Ifrane is not on this map, but if you locate Fez in north-central Morocco, Ifrane is located to the south of Fez.
The area is moutainous and pretty heavily forrested.
Al Akhawayn Tour
This is a link to a virtual tour of Al Akhawayn, which can be found on the university website.
Enjoy

Doug

2006-05-18T22:48:00.000-07:00

So here it is. This is how I will try to communicate with people while I'm away. It seems to me to be a little easier to maintain a site where friends and family can visit to check up on me, rather than to keep sending emails and pictures. This will be easier for you to handle, since you won't be forced to hear what I'm up to unless you really want to know. This will also be easier for me since I won't have to keep sending mass emails to people, and I won't have to try to decide what to send to certain people, and what not to send to other people.
I hope you enjoy this site. I plan on posting pictures and possible even video footage of what I see and do while I'm away.

I love you all, and please feel free to comment on anything you want.

Doug