Update 3:

Hi’dy’ho,
So I left you in Taghazoute in that nice little surfing village. A lot of places have been visited since there and lots of new developments, Edith left for London and is going to be heading to Chad pertty soon, Steffen takes off for India tomorrow, and I am heading to southern France for a month, after which I will be heading to Switzerland for a week for briefings for a three month “training” mission in the DRC with MSF.

Funny thing about being in Taghazoute was that it hadn’t rained in like two years (according to locals) and yet it rained 4 out of 10 days there. We made some pretty neat friends there, who would have us for tea in their carpet selling shop and for our last night we went to their house where they made some form of music and drank Berber Whiskey. They were amazingly hospitable people.

Steffen and I then took off to Tafraoute to witness the Almond Blossom Festival in the Alem Valley, only to find out it hadn’t rained in how many years and the blossoms weren’t happening yet. We found a place with a sink and two beds for about 6 bucks a night for both of us, fairly filthy to say the least. The next morning we walked down the street to look for a map and ended up paying for a three day tour from Tafraoute to the Sahara and then to Ouarzazate.

Included in the tour were free bicycles for the afternoon. So we decided to bike through and around the Alem Valley. Equiped with a crappy, and not to scale, map we set out at about 1pm. What we didn’t know, until much later, was that it was a 50km trip mostly up and down steep hills with switchbacks. Damn it, I hate bicycles, I swore after get my first motorbike that I would never ever go back. I remember why, I swear that seat was trying to act as a wedge and split me in two the whole trip.

Half an hour before sundown we come across a sign 17km to Tafraoute. Holy H-F&ӎing Hannah were we ever not happy. Not only were there no almond blossoms but there was also no damned food. It seemed like all the villages were deserted. Luckily less than a km later was a town that had bread, cheese and water. The next 9km were a continuous switchback uphill. Legs were cramping, it was getting dark and cold, and we had to take a lot of breaks.

The last 7kms were downhill, my rear and back were so damned sore that a new position was found. Does anyone know how fast you can get going down a steep hill and continously pedeling for fear of cramps if you stop moving? Well we found out. I also found a new position, hands free and with my back straight. Oh it felt good. Trouble was; switchbacks, darkness, locals in black clothing, and kamikaze drivers. Got to the bottom and Tafraoute in complete darkness and without injury, except that sore rear that wasn’t comforted later on the camel.

What can I say about the desert. It is hot in the day, very cold and night. A sunrise and sunset in the Sahara is pretty neat. Camels are filthy creatures, and I hope I never need to be on or use one again. The drive to the desert was lonely, we saw very few vehicles (I think 3) in over 300kms. Also the bread tastes likes sand, as did the couscous, and nuts. The shower water is salty, likely bore water. But it is absolutely beautiful, and I loved the experience.

We were offered jobs as extras in the film industry in Ouarzazate, but declined and found out later that theses were the biggest studios in Africa. D’oh, my chance at fame and glory, all gone. We also found out that night that Steffen needed a Visa to get into India not just the flight that he had purchased. So we hustled off the Rabat the next day. The bus to Marrakesh was a long ride through the High Altas Mountains, and cramped especially with our not so diminutive size.

The bus ride from Marrakesh to Rabat sucked. Travelling at night is a really bad idea. Big accident, our bus was rear-ended by another bus as we had stopped for a previous occuring accident. Whiplash was the only injury for us. Because of the way we had been sleeping, It hurt when Steffen turned his head to the left, and me to the right. It takes a week before the pain is gone. Interesting, never had that before. We were told later on that there were no fatalities. But we can’t be too sure due to the wailing of a woman on the other bus when they put the carpet over the driver, maybe he was just cold? It took 1.5 hrs for the police to arrive, and 2 hrs for the paramedics, and we were only 15mins from Casablanca. Don’t travel at night is definitely a good plan.

Rabat was really nice, the women didn’t have to cover themselves up and had jobs that didn’t include domestic tasks. It appeared to be a progressive city. We are now in Marrakesh, which is the craziest and hustleriest city I have ever been to. Too many damned tourists, and too many people trying to take advantage of them/us.

It’s hilarious for me, because I can’t even look into a shop in a touristy part of town because they will try and sell me anything. If I do go inside because I like one of their shirts or shoes everything is way too small, and there is no chance of it fitting. But they try to convince me that it’ll fit after I pay for it. In non-touristy places, I can walk past and even into stores without the storekeeper even talk to me. I’ll ask if they have a shirt in my size, they always look me up and down and say no, nothing in your size. Hmmm, it’s a shame because the knock off designer shirts made in sweatshops would be oh so trendy.

I guess I should talk a little bit about the DRC. First of all it is the former Zaire, known as the Congo, also known as the location for the genocide of 1994 between the Hutu’s and the Tutsi’s. I remember being 13 years old and not understanding any of it. Now I am twice as old as I was then, and I am going into a country that has changed substantially, and most importantly for me, and I suppose for you as well, I am NOT going into a war zone.

I am going to be managing a 200 bed hospital, a fleet of 10 vehicles, the communications and the housing for the national and expat staff. This placing is more or less a training placement for three months so that I can learn how everything works in a relatively safe environment. I will also be expanding my capabilities with French. It is more or less an ideal introduction into the work that I will be doing, MSF is supplying the training with the intention that I will do more missions if I am cut out for it, and also they are putting a greenhorn in a place that shouldn’t be too overwhelming.

I will be in southern France at a friend of a friends until then. I will be on email, and hopefully will find a phone network to call from.