From the desert of Morocco to the Streets of New York City: Love and Energy

NEW YORK CITY, October 1-7, 2019

My NY memory collage, a grid of many of the photos I took. NYC street scenes; public art; the High Line parkway; Times Square & Shubert Theatre, where we saw "To Kill a Mockingbird;" friends Doris & Linda in NYC, and Alice in Teaneck. 

I was scheduled for a week in New York City about 6 days after getting back from a long-planned trip to Morocco.  Linda, Doris and I had talked about it at a happy hour at Ciao's, and by the time we left there, Linda had actually made plane reservations. Only $149 each. We were in heaven.  I didn't think about how close one trip was to the other. It was all good.

The trip to Morocco came and went, and it was fabulous. The thing is, the minute our plane from Casablanca/Paris hit the ground in Detroit, really, the minute we landed, I got sick. A bout of the chills hit me hard as I gathered my luggage, and I was a goner.  I had a fever and I shook all the way home from the Detroit airport to Sylvania.

I suffered not only from crummy flu symptoms but also from the thought I might not make it to New York. I prayed every day for the bug to go away. It was slow going, but it did get better by the day of departure. I felt good to go. Not 100%, but good to go.

Doris and Linda in NYC.

So off I went with Doris and Linda to New York City. We stayed at Doris' apartment in Chelsea, a great location. The first four days were fantastic. Walks, restaurants, the Rubin Museum of Art, "To Kill a Mockingbird."

The gallery with the "Clapping with Stones" exhibit featured a
ceiling filled with tightly woven red straw flower buds. Beautiful.
That neon art  (top middle photo) sits at the entrance to the
 Museum, not sure why, but it's a wonderful piece of art. 

I'd never been to the Rubin Museum, which is why I was excited to go there. My motto is learn something new every day.  I'm not sure I grasped the Rubin's mission, connecting Himalyan life, Tibetan Buddhism and art with contemporary life, but it was different and interesting. In addition to the permanent collection (we took a docent-led tour), we got to see a new exhibit, "Clapping with Stones." It's an eclectic mix of artifacts, art, and text, even an American history installation, focusing on the nature and power of resistance. The Rubin also has a fabulous cafe with yummy natural and fresh salads (worth going just for lunch) and a nice Museum shop, where I couldn't resist getting a pretty table runner with Buddha symbols on it. I'm a big fan of Museum shops.

Along the High Line, overlooking the city, art and gardens,
interesting buildings along the way. "I'm fine kids!" 

Next came "Mockingbird," a great production and always exciting to be on Broadway. After that, I looked forward to a visit to the High Line parkway the next day. It was Friday, October 4, and the day started out just fine.

I walked to the High Line under sunny skies, several city blocks up to 8th Avenue and 23rd Street. I climbed the steps, walked the 1.5 mile path of what used to be a railroad line, back and forth, slowly, taking it all in. I took lots of photos, enjoyed every moment, every scene, the gardens, the sculpture, the art, even the resistance items in an apartment window.  It was a New York montage. I held up my sign, "Hi Kids, I'm fine," and I meant it.


But, by the time I made it back to Doris' apartment, things changed. My sinuses were plugged up, my chest congested, my voice dim, and I was coughing up a storm.

Geez. Not good, because Linda was scheduled for heart surgery in less than a week, and she could not afford to get sick.  She was adamant and I was confused for a moment. My cough got worse on the spot. What should I do? What could I do? I decided to call friend Alice in NJ. We were scheduled to get together on Sunday; she was coming into the City and we were going to the Tenement Museum and maybe the Jewish Museum. Instead, I asked if I could come there now, today, this minute. I think I said I had a cold and had to leave Doris' apartment. Actually I don't remember what I said.  Fortunately, Alice said yes.

Alice at home

I packed it up in ten minutes and was out the door of the Chelsea apartment in a kind of haze. I took a cab to the humongous NY Port Authority and found my way to the bus to Teaneck, NJ, thanks to Alice's good directions. I was overjoyed to see her waiting to pick me up. It was just wonderful, as always, to be with this dearest friend from Madison days, this brilliant poet and master teacher. We share so much: our graduate student years as young women, a common history and great stories, experiences over the life cycle, wide-ranging interests. We take up where we leave off.

But I felt miserable, and I felt even worse about bringing my cold with me. When Alice started having a scratchy throat, I fell to my knees in prayer. Keep Alice healthy.

By the time I left to return home, Alice was coming down with the damn cold. It was small consolation that this bug is going around everywhere. I had made Alice sick.

It's a week later and I still have the cough. So does Alice. We commiserate on the phone and she is especially gracious, kind. I feel guilty. I thank the goddess for such a dear friend. "Please get her healthy right away."

I can think a little more about NYC now. There is something special  about being there, the energy, the love. The theater.  Ah yes. "To Kill a Mockingbird."

Atticus defending Tom Robinson (Obenga Akinnago).
Actually this is an unusual photo of the two men,
because Tom's back was toward the audience almost
the whole play. I remember feeling uncomfortable with that. 

What did I think of it, Alice asked me.  A fascinating production, I thought. A simple set, a front porch, a courtroom, the props moved about by the actors themselves. Somber lighting. Jeff Daniels a gifted actor, a fantastic Atticus Finch, reflective but not brooding, sensitive but not demonstrative, skeptical but not pessimistic. Gregory Peck's Atticus is a tough act to follow, but Daniels saved his soul and I thought added more dimension to him. A more modern Atticus, reviewers noted.

The heart of this "Mockingbird," however, written by Aaron Sorkin (how courageous!) does not belong to Atticus as much as to his undaunted, unrestrained, fearless daughter Scout, along with her brother Jem and their friend Dill. Scout's the narrator, the conscience, the one who asks questions, who voices the injustice, the outrage. Atticus plays off Scout, and Scout is relentless, unrestrained, uninhibited. I also like that Calpurnia, the Finches' housekeeper, has a stronger voice in this updated production, and she's not afraid to share it with Atticus. There's a kind of mutual respect between them that's refreshing.

In some ways I'm still in New York. Maybe it's the lingering cough. Mostly it's the lingering memories. They'll keep me going until my next trip to a city that never disappoints, always brings new discoveries, always beckons. When I was a Peace Corps Volunteer in Ukraine we used to say "if it's a bad experience, it's a good story." I feel that way about the quick turn around from Morocco to NYC.  I'll remember the story more than the bad experience, and I won't stop believing that travel is the best teacher of all and worth whatever effort it takes.

Reviews:
https://www.rollingstone.com/culture/culture-features/to-kill-a-mockingbird-broadway-sorkin-review-travers-769996/

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/12/13/theater/to-kill-a-mockingbird-review-jeff-daniels.html

Morocco Magic Moments

September 18 to 26, 2019: MOROCCO!

Andy and me on our Moroccan adventure, here with
new friends Peg and Ken from Boston on a carriage ride
 through the streets of Marrakesh to a popular restaurant. The food was fabulous.

The beauty of Morocco

Traditional Moroccan tea pot. 
We had many cups of tea. 

Morocco! The name evokes the sights, colors, and sounds of an exotic place. Casablanca, Fez, Marrakesh!  My sister Andy and I were on a whirlwind tour of this magical Saharan kingdom in north Africa, a dream fulfilled. It was a Gate 1 tour. Our tour manager was Ibrahim Aghraz, a Moroccan who loves his country and shared it with us enthusiastically, as only a native can. A Gate 1 professional, he paid meticulous attention to every detail, connected with our city tour guides, all of whom were excellent, and led us on paths of discovery and enlightenment. The tour bus was new, big, comfortable, and the bus driver friendly and skillful. Everyone associated with the tour was helpful. We were fortunate to be with a fantastic group of people as well, diverse, all ages, from all over the USA.

We actually met our first new friends at the Paris airport while waiting for our flight to Casablanca.They were  looking at Morocco maps; we asked if they were going on the Gate 1 tour. They were indeed! So we met Peg and Ken, retired teachers and world travelers from Boston.  We stuck together once we got to Morocco, made more friends, shared wonderful times together. Short and sweet is the best way for me to travel these days, getting the highlights of a place, a taste of the history and culture, the natural and built environments, the activities of the people on the streets, at palaces and temples, in the Souks, the ever-present vendors selling their trinkets, leather, jewelry, souvenirs, taking every opportunity to make a living.

A grid collage of an assortment of photos taken in Rabat and at Volubilis. They are a way to remind me of 
the sights and spirit of the places we visit. Memory collages. 

We arrived in Morocco via Casablanca, but our first destination was Rabat, the capital. We would return to Casablanca at the end of our tour.  Rabat is a pretty city on the shores of the Bouregreg River and the Atlantic. It's known for landmarks that reflect its Islamic and French-colonial heritage, including the Kasbah of the Udayas. The Berber-era royal fort is surrounded by formal French-designed gardens, a melange of cultures, a mixed heritage. The iconic Hassan Tower, a 12th-century minaret, soars above a mosque that was never finished. We walked around the Royal Palace, decorated with exquisite tile work that is a hallmark of Moroccan art and craftsmenship everywhere. We visited the ruins of Chella, where wild purple morning glories sprouted out of old ruins and feral cats roamed peacefully, so pretty and, we learned, ubiquitous. Ibrahim said the authorities were dealing with the problem, but it was hard keeping up with all those cats. We could see that! I loved the Oudaya Kasbah, beautiful in blue and white, like a painting.

Enroute from Rabat to Fez, we stopped at the ruins of the ancient Roman city of Volubilis. The tour guide was a real scholar, full of information. We could survey the whole city layout, walk the Roman road and ancient paths, admire wonderfully preserved rooms and original mosaics. Those Romans were everywhere, and they built for the ages.

Andy at Rabat Royal Palace. 

Ibrahim regaled us with the history of Morocco as we traveled

From Marrakesh with love

between city sites. This lovely north African country, we learned, is distinguished by its Berber, Arabian and European (mostly Spanish Muslim and French) cultural influences. It's a  constitutional monarchy, headed by King Mohammed VI of the Alaouite Dynasy, which goes back to the 17th century. When democracy movements spread across northern Africa in 2011, King Mohammed stepped up to implement reform programs. They included a new constitution, which was passed by popular referendum in July 2011. It extended new powers to Parliament, which is now controlled by the Justice and Development Party, a moderate Islamist party. Ibrahim seemed to see the King as a benevolent and wise monarch, forward thinking, working with the Parliament to take Morocco into a bright future. We all hoped this was so, making Morocco a beaming light in north Africa.

Our wonderful Fez guide,
leading us down alleyways
and behind closed doors.

Ibrahim stressed throughout the tour, every chance he got, that while is Morocco is an Islamic country, all religions are welcomed and tolerated. Many refugees from war-torn countries have made their way here, and help is available. Ibrahim made sure our tour included visits to Islamic, Christian and Jewish sites. The best part was experiencing this diversity and tolerance first hand as we sipped tea at cafes and wandered the streets, alleyways and byways of Rabat, Fez, Marrakesh and Casablanca.


There's no place like the Medina of Fez to absorb the richness and textures of Moroccan culture. The old city is a fascinating labyrinth of ancient pathways, cobble-stoned streets, narrow and winding alleyways, all within an incredibly complex maze that doesn't seem to have a beginning or an end. Our city guide knew how to get around, though. It was impressive. We made sure to follow him closely for fear of getting lost in a place we couldn't even describe. Some of us wondered, jokingly, if our GPS would work. But there are indeed destinations: homes, cafes and restaurants, shops, tons of shops, all selling an incredible variety of goods and wares, arts and crafts. There were lots of surprises behind the doors that faced the alleys: ordinary homes, grand homes fit for a king, wonderful restaurants (we lunched at one of them), small businesses, like the argan oil place where we were sold a bill of goods, and happily so.
A favorite was the rug merchants. Our tour guide opened a door  onto a palace of
enormous rooms with carved columns, exquisite tiles, marble and gold, the home and business of a carpet
merchant and his wife. We sipped hot mint tea and sat through a brilliantly orchestrated presentation of hundreds of rugs, one more beautiful than the other. We were mesmerized. It's hard not to blow caution to the wind under the influence of such awesome and practiced salesmanship. The workers did their job. After all that, I was glad some members of our group actually bought rugs. Those rugs, I thought, would take them on magic carpet rides, and last a lifetime.

Fez is fascinating, and especially the Medina, the old city. This is where we spent most of our time.  Here are some photos of the beauty of the architecture and craftsmanship that adorns every building, from ordinary to grand. Peg and Ken are in top row next to a panorama of the Medina and the Grand Palace with its gold doors. Also in this collage, photos of  the ancient and august University of Al Karaouine, which Ibrahim said is the oldest operating university in the world. The tile work is breathtaking. Fez is particularly famous for its tanneries(photo far right showing the dye bins used to color leather). It is also known for its beautiful hand-woven carpets, all made by women. We also visited the famed Jewish quarter of the Medina and walked through the Jewish cemetery. Though Fez has endured hardship, it has emerged more vibrant than ever, boasting its own distinctive culture, art and cuisine. The food is delicious. 

Marrakesh, a heavenly desert city 

with Ibrahim and friends at fabulous Restaurant. What fun! 

After Fez we arrived in Marrakesh (also spelled Marrakech). It's a beautiful city, an oasis in the desert since neolithic times and Berber farmers, although the city itself was founded in 1062. I was entranced by the colors, patterns and light of Marrakesh, still dancing in my head. From the lovely balcony of our hotel, Andy and I, vodka and tonic in hand at the end of the day, enjoyed the palm trees swaying against azure blue skies. We were surrounded by the city's richly adorned architecture with graceful Islamic curves, brilliant tile work,  fascinating details. The city itself is surrounded by red sandstone walls and structures, madrasas (Koranic schools) and mosques, built by Almoravid king Yusuf ibn Tashfin in the 12th century.  Marrakesh is the "Red City," with the iconic Koutoubia Minaret towering over it. It's also a city of palaces, few more stunning than the Bahia Palace with its incredible carved cedar ceilings and stunning piazza. 

We took it all in during a carriage ride from our hotel through the streets of Marrakesh to a stunning restaurant for a sumptuous dinner. We savored the fragrant spices of the tajine and couscous, shared fine Moroccan wine, and enjoyed the company and camaraderie of fellow travelers. African drummers and a lovely belly dancer entertained and delighted. Some of us joined in a joyous circle of dance after her performance, including yours truly with lots of coaxing. We were making the best memories of a lifetime. We were on the the Marrakesh Express (Crosby, Stills and Nash), having the time of our lives.  

Casablanca, literally the White City, the Moroccan port city on the

African Atlantic coast.  When most of us hear "Casablanca"  we can't

help but think of the 1942 Bogart/Ingrid Bergman film that took place

during WWII & whose action centered on Rick's Cafe. Remember that?

Sure enough, the cafe was included on our fast-paced tour, although

Ibrahim warned us it has changed many times over the years. Still, our

tour group, filled with nostalgia, rose in homage.

Finally we returned to Casablanca, where the old and the new mix and mingle, sometimes in strange ways. Casablanca, a former imperial city, is now a major economic center, home to old and new mosques, palaces and gardens galore. The medina is a walled medieval city dating to the Berber Empire, with those maze-like alleys and busy souks. Ibrahim didn't think it was a good place to visit alone unless we were with someone who knew their way around, but in any case I think most of us were souked out. Casablanca is experiencing a massive building boom, similar to what's happened along the Florida coast. Tall white buildings, very close together, many stories high, are sprouting up everywhere, covering the coastline, the city center, hotel districts, new tourist destinations. It's almost overwhelming.

That's how I happened upon what seemed to be an ancient home, perhaps a mosque, I couldn't tell, squeezed unceremoniously between new modern buildings, almost completely hidden from sight. I was on a walk, exploring. As I neared our hotel, I saw it: this crumbled structure with few walls but remnants of traditional Islamic arches, fabulous tiles and craftsmanship, beautiful weaving, columns, decorated arches, exquisite tiles on remaining walls, decorated fountains. The site looked slated for demolition. Piles of cement blocks filled one corner.  I hesitated, walked in, moved slowly about the lovely site, noting every detail. It seemed abandoned.

As I walked into what looked like a prayer room, an Islamic cleric  or maybe a dedicated caretaker of the property, came forward. I was startled at first. He smiled. I saw a small bowl with a few coins in it. I thought maybe he was collecting dirham, maybe to save the  site. I contributed. It was the end of our trip, and I emptied out my wallet.  He nodded in thanks.

I prayed that this hidden gem would survive the onslaught of modernity now overcoming historic Casablanca.  As I walked toward the hotel, I saw that the old Islamic building was surrounded by a small but beautiful and well-maintained garden, lovingly maintained. It hugged the walls that remained. It was stunning. Here, I thought, is the old and true Casablanca, the authentic Casablanca, the heart of the city. A strain of sadness filled me, until I got to the hotel and shared my discovery with Andy. Will that precious site be there when we return to Casablanca?

It's Casablanca, the White City on the Atlantic ocean. The green and white tower is the huge Hassan II Mosque complex, said to be the largest in Africa. It was completed in 1993, a new structure on an old site. We couldn't go inside but a feeling of vastness enveloped me as we walked around it. Also here are photos of the Corniche seaside, where we had lunch;  the Habous quarter, and the Notre Dame de Lourdes Cathedral, as grande as any in Europe. The photo of the white building with tall Palms at its entrance is Rick's Cafe, made famous in the film "Casablanca."  It's been rebuilt over the years, but remains a popular tourist destination. 

Our Gate 1 Tour group. Well, most of us. We were quite a bunch!  Our guide Ibrahim,
in white baseball cap, is kneeling in front. He was fantastic.  Andy and I are behind him.

Save this beautiful Moroccan structure, among the new buildings of Casablanca

At that fabulous Marrakesh restaurant, with tour manager Ibrahim and great new friends. 

Andy says this was at Fez Kasbar but I 'm not sure.