Deep Pockets and Short Arms

We awoke just before dawn, the point being to have dressed and waddled up a sand dune in time to witness the sun rising over the desert. Given that it’s dark before dawn, the fact that the power and the water weren’t working made things a bit tricky, but our flashlights saved the day. We gathered with our international cohort atop the nearest east-facing dune and welcomed the sun.

Or, at least, that’s how it was supposed to work. Omar hadn’t gotten the time right for the sunrise, so we missed the most dramatic colors but still got a beautiful view.

After a quick breakfast, we drove back to the building where we had first mounted our camels, this time in a truck driven by Omar. He seemed to think that the drive back should be as much of an adventure as the ride out, so he drove us straight down the steepest faces of the dunes, daring the truck to flip. At times, it seemed as though the front of the truck would drive straight into the ground, but somehow we made it unscathed. All the while, Moroccan hip hop was blasting, adding to the frenetic feel of the whole adventure. We actually loved the music, though, and used Shazam to record a few for later identification. During the less terrifying moments of the ride, we had breathtaking views of the desert and passed small raggedy tents (locals, perhaps? Or budget backpackers?) and camels grazing on the desert grass clumps.

We arrived back to Ahmed and Mohamed, whom we had missed very much. It seemed that Said, our camel guide, had been the one missing us, as he presented my mother, sister, and me with our own fossil-stone carvings with a sheepish grin. Then, it was to the car for another long day of driving out of the desert. It probably felt like a very long day to Ahmed and Mohamed, as my sister and I sang a smattering of hits from the 70s, 80s, 90s, and 2000s for the first hour of the drive. We discovered that Mohamed has quite the background in American music and is a big fan of AC/DC and Sting, so of course obliged with a few of those artists’ greatest hits. After we quieted down, we spent our time finding faces in the rocks of the mountains and learning about camels. These hardy creatures can carry 400 kg while walking on flat land and about 200 kg while wandering up and down dunes. They’ve also got great stamina, ranging up to 50 km/day walking or 150 km/day running. And as long as they’re not exerting themselves too much, they can go without water for 3 weeks. Very impressive!

We passed many towns that seemed half built or abandoned, but we were corrected: the half-built dwellings were ones that being built piece by piece when Moroccan workers in Europe returned home each year with new infusions of cash. The stretches of empty houses were the summer homes of city dwellers, often returning to their home towns. We were a bit confused why someone would want to come here in the summer, when highs reach ~54 degrees Celsius (~129 F), but Ahmed and Mohamed just shrugged and said that’s how it is.

We also made a few more photo stops at Ait Boujjan and the Toudgha Gorges.

A view of Ait Boujjan

Beautiful rock formations near Ait Boujjan

Toudgha Gorgeous, more like it

Can you spot the rock climbers in this picture?

How about now?

Our main stop of the day was at Maison de Cadeaux Berbere, or the House of Berber Gifts.

The proprietor, Ali, is a Tuareg Berber and was dressed in an elaborate blue outfit, as blue is the color of the Tuareg tribes.

We were first treated to a showing of a Tuareg suitcase made of camel leather and cedar tent stakes that looked like wooden swords, with mint tea to wash down our lesson in Berber culture.

Then came the carpets. Per both Ali and Ahmed, the Berbers do not typically make rugs for sale, but for family use. When a family member dies, someone divorces, or the family needs money, Ali will buy a carpet from them as a way to provide income in tough times. He has accumulated many, many carpets. We were shown the woven and embroidered rugs of agave silk, the knotted woolen rugs, and some carpets that used all three techniques: weaving, embroidery, and knotting. The designs were varied, colorful, and beautiful, often incorporating the “sacred eye” to watch over the owner. Many were reversible, with Ali joking that “the second side you get for free!”. We oohed and aahed over the colors, textures, and variety as the entire floor became covered in layer upon layer of fabric.

It felt weird to walk over potential purposes, but that’s the whole point of a rug. Ali wrangled my parents while his baby-faced, more timid brother, Al Mamoun, did his best to engage my sister and me.

Al Mamoun was not the charismatic born salesman that Ali was, but he was very kind and did his best to discover what colors and patterns we liked. A whole corner of the room was soon covered in blue carpets after I admired one. While the blue patterns were beautiful, I was truly coveting the thick, double-knotted Berber blankets that looked like they were made for naps. These, too, were reversible. One side was thick and cozy for winter, while the other was firm and flat, apparently for sitting on around a family tagine. After Ali’s sale to my parents went through, he came over to check how Al Mamoun was doing and, disappointed with his progress, led me back to the carpet pile to negotiate. Persistence is key in carpet sales, but also in maintaining a student budget, and we were well matched. I prevailed and managed to leave carpetless while still being polite. As we got back into the car, Ahmed told us more about Ali’s social work in the community, helping to support struggling families. Apparently, there is a day set aside for giving alms, and the line our Ali’s door rounds the entire block. Ali had seemed like a shrewd but kind man, and I was not surprised to hear he was such a pillar of his community. Honestly, I thought he seemed like he would be a very entertaining dinner guest.


We began to practice our Berber counting again and Ahmed told us we were now practically Berbers. He also told us a saying about Berbers, that they have deep pockets and short arms. Given that my brother used to talk about my sister's and my T-Rex arms, we thought that this was a perfect description for us. And given how few dirhams the average Moroccan makes, we are (relatively) rolling in cash... even though the salaries for animal trainers and (almost) residents are unimpressive by U.S. standards. Berbers it is.

We were in the home stretch of our day’s drive, and we again enjoyed incredible scenery. We stopped a few times in Dades, the “Valley of A Thousand Casbahs”, for pictures of the innumerable fortresses. Some, like Casbah Ait Arbi, were in mint condition.

Others were clearly ancient and their walls were crumbling. Per Ahmed, many of the older casbahs had been abandoned because they were incompatible with certain modern luxuries, like running water (it would damage the walls), and after being abandoned they quickly began to crumble.

After one last stop to document the incredibly windy road we took,

it was on to Chez Pierre, possibly our fanciest and most rural hotel. We settled in, enjoyed an amazing prix fixe 5-course French Moroccan dinner, navigated the maze to our room, and fell into a deep sleep in the silent desert.

Jam of the Day (thanks, Omar!): Aubameyang by Ghost ST ft. Soolking & DJa Chow - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ksrFuIY5m4k

[we have no idea what they’re saying, so apologies if it’s offensive]

Spotted: Salt and not-pepper shakers. As in the U.S., most restaurants provide two shakers full of seasoning on the table at meals. We have discovered, though, that their contents are different here. They still provide salt, but the second shaker is usually filled with cumin rather than black pepper.

Additional pictures from our day:

Our desert camp in daylight

This interesting rock formation has been described as looking like fingers, toes, or even monkeys