July 9, 2009

Where We Are Now...

New York City

***

Please join us next Thursday for the opening of Derek's exhibit of images from Iran.

Iran 2008: Faces and Places from inside Iran

a photography exhibit by Derek Brown


presented by Gallery H (inside Club H Fitness)
423 West 55th Street

opening July 16, 2009, 6 p.m. to 8 p.m.



Please RSVP by email

***

Paul's Travel Blog was awarded by Tripbase.com as a finalist in the Best Travel and Food Blog category. Congrats to me (and Derek)!

Tripbase Blog Awards 2009
Tripbase Blog Awards 2009
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Check out the online versions of Derek's recent exhibits.

January 11, 2009

Route of the Kasbahs

Away from the expat hubbub of Marrakech, and the campervans and cities of the Moroccan coast, is perhaps the Morocco of the greatest romance, a land of high mountains, deep canyons, sandy dunes and innumerable kasbahs and ksars, the fortified homes and villages lining strategic approaches from the African interior to the Arab coast. An itinerary exploring some of these places, what one might term "inner" Morocco, could be called the Route of the Kasbahs. Our trail took us from the inland hub of Ouarzazate, a city most famous for its role in the Moroccan film industry, down through the Draa Valley to Zagora, and then out to the Dades Valley and Todra Gorge, passing through on our way back to Ouarzazate the memorable oasis of Skoura.

Near Ouarzazate, the ksar (or fortified city) of Ait Benhaddou, which guarded the way to Marrakech


Driving down into the Draa Valley, preferably in a rental car, a few things become apparent. One is the wildness of the terrain. With the relative developedness of Morocco, and its terrific infrastructure, it's easy to forget that it is a country that was not under full central control until the 19th or 20th centuries, a place where local chieftains were able to defend themselves in small enclaves thanks to topography. This is not the Morocco of the great walled cities, such as Marrakech and Fes and Meknes, but the countryside of trade routes and fortifications, where houses and even entire villages had their own walls for protection.




That the Draa Valley is the route into Africa's interior makes itself apparent in one dramatic but perhaps unexpected way--the presence of black Africans. It's not clear how long they have been here, but in this land of Arabs and Berbers the darker residents of Morocco stand out. Whether their ancestors were black traders involved in commerce or the objects of trade themselves--slaves--I do not know, but the residents of the Draa are largely sub-Saharan black African Moroccans, whose ancestors at some point made the trek up from cities such as Timbuktu on the other side of the great desert. Even coming from America, where race is still closely tied with economic class, we were still interested to note that the residents of the Draa seemed relatively impoverished compared to even those in other parts of rural Morocco--men flagged our car down to expend great effort to sell us dates, for less than a dollar and not much more for a handmade woven basket in which to carry them.

Some local residents



Window style - Draa Valley, Morocco


Window style - Timbuktu, Mali


Another noteworthy point, at a social/cultural level: the women in the Draa Valley were some of the most covered in Morocco. Clearly, there has been some unusually conservative cultural influence here, although we don't know what or why.


Wandering around the many ruined ksars and kasbahs can be great adventure. With the gradual depopulation of these mud-brick ksars and kasbahs, many will crumble in a matter of years, while those that are reinforced and fixed up will probably be done largely for tourism. Visit soon! (In the photograph, note the similarity between the minaret at the end of the street and that of Chinguetti--post of 08.12.25.)


To the east of the Draa Valley and Ouarzazate lie two of the most popular natural destinations of Morocco, the Dades Valley and the Todra Gorge. The latter is perhaps more remarkable for its natural drama--at one point a deep cleft in cliffs not dissimilar from spots such as Utah's Zion Canyon--but the former is in many ways the more rewarding, with dramatic kasbahs lining the valley all the way up in to the mountains. The drive east to the Dades and the Todra is big sky country, like Central Asia in its openness and barren scenery, with snowy peaks in view.

The Todra Gorge


But perhaps the most memorable destination on this itinerary, and our vote for best place to relax in Morocco, is the Skoura oasis. Set in the middle of the Dades plain, the Skoura is a dense and broad oasis of palms in which is set quite an excellent assortment of lodging--some of the best in Morocco--ranging from budget rooms in a romantic and rustic kasbah to orientalist fantasies operated by French expats. We enjoyed staying at the Amridil, which is the kasbah featured on the fifty dirham bill. (It's also the kasbah we nearly burned down, stupidly plugging their high voltage heater into our cheap Chinese extension cord.) We would also recommend in particular Les Jardins de Skoura, which can be reached by following the orange arrows deep deep into the palmery--from its rooftop terraces, looking out over the sea of palms and small local shrines, both the cities of home and even the cities of Morocco seem effortlessly far away.

The Skoura oasis


Kasbah Amridil

January 8, 2009

Monsieur Cadeau

It is perhaps one of the things that first world travelers dread most about the developing world--more than disease, more than red tape, more than language barriers: begging. Even if you're used to giving to/ignoring panhandlers back home, it's different when you're on the road--there are often more beggars, they single you out as the rich tourist and the wealth gap between you and them has never been more apparent--all of which combine to leave you feeling guilty, stingy and bothered.

Begging comes in a wide variety of forms. Perhaps the best targets of a traveler's generosity are the elderly and infirm, especially near places of worship. By participating in traditional forms of charity directed at those in clearest need, tourists are able to assist in a way that is consistent with local norms and does not result in an increase in the number of beggars especially targeting tourists. The most memorable group of such mendicants, for me, was a group of women outside the famous rock-hewn St. George's in Lalibela--nowhere else have we had donations of basic foodstuffs (in our case, bread) so warmly received. Other forms of begging can be somewhat more annoying/troubling. In India, children or women with babies run up to cars at intersections thrusting the babies at windows and demanding money. In Egypt, tourist police and security guards demand tips when no services at all are performed (see post of 08.09.16). Perhaps most devious of all, and one we were most amused to have naively fallen for, young women (also usually with babies) in Shenzhen, China will pretend to eat food out of garbage cans, trying to draw sympathy and cash contributions.

Talibes in Senegal (see post of 08.11.22)


But it is a somewhat more frivolous and nagging form of begging that I want to address in my post today. The post is titled "Monsieur Cadeau" (Mister Gift) because that particular phrase is something one hears all the time in parts of West Africa. It is short for "Monsieur, donnez moi un cadeau" (Mister, give me a gift), which one also sometimes hears, but more often it is abbreviated and strung together as if "Cadeau" were your surname. Or there is "ca va, cadeau" (how are you, gift). This sort of begging by children is common in many countries around the world; children have learned to mob tourists for money or candy or whatever tourists are willing to give, often in an incredibly persistent way. Adding to the annoyance factor is that often the children who do this are not really those most in need (though admittedly still far poorer than the average tourist). In Ethiopia, for example, even seemingly middle class (for Ethiopia, that is) youth in school uniforms will ask for a birr, the local currency. The hounding establishes an undesirable begger/beggee relationship between local and guest, and makes genuine cultural exchange for travelers that much more difficult.

The Rough Guide to West Africa says that the children of the Francophone West African countries are some of the worst offenders, in terms of begging; the children of the English-speaking West African countries to the south apparently have not adopted this behavior so wholeheartedly. So are the French to blame? Perhaps. French tourists did seem more likely to engage in hand-outs--one young French woman we saw in the Dogon had pre-prepared a bag of small toys to hand out. Visiting Haiti in the 80s, Derek was surprised to regularly hear "boom boom?" from young children. He later realized that "boom boom" was not a sexual reference but "bonbon" or candy in french. Part of it may be Lonely Planet's fault. In the past, Lonely Planet used to suggest that travelers hand out school supplies instead of money or candy, the logic being that you don't want to turn kids into beggars or encourage tooth decay. But handing out pens only resulted in children begging for pens instead of money, and a large secondary market in pens. The fact is, children will ask for whatever they can get their hands on, whether it be coins (for a "foreign coin collection") or candy or pens, unless their parents or other local adults stop them. There are plenty of charities/NGOs to which effective donations can be made, and succumbing to children's requests unfortunately turns the kids into beggars.

What do we like to do? Admittedly, sometimes we have given money (though not to children), or even candy if we happened to have some on hand and were so moved, but what we prefer is to give either photographs of ourselves (we took a picture of you, and now have it on our camera; here's a little picture of us for you to have) or postcards from back home. This of course takes some preparation--having printed photographs or postcards ready--but it's definitely worthwhile, because it allows us to share a bit of ourselves and where we come from with people who don't own cameras and will likely never have a chance to visit the U.S. On the back of the postcards, Derek usually writes a funny little note, which the recipient generally can't read but may have translated some day.

An elderly Dogon examining the New York skyline, Mali


One story about giving, or trying to give, that may appeal to the cynical traveler, from the city of Gonder in Ethiopia. I do not know what Gonder is like these days, but when we were there, there were quite a few young children in town who made it their business to provide various "travel agent"-type services to tourists. For example, one small boy with a bum eye helped set up a taxi for us to get to the airport. Others would help carry bags or provide directions. Of all these boys, there was one that we grew to despise, because he was clearly more troublesome and deceptive than the others. He was also overweight, an obvious sign of his relative wealth or success. Well, from Gonder we went on a trip to the nearby Simien Mountains, a high altitude range that is one of the many spectacular sights of Ethiopia. We were waiting outside of the park proper trying to hitch a ride to the trailhead, when a minivan drove up, with some tourists. We asked if we could get a ride, and they said sure. When we got in, we saw that the bad kid was also in the minibus. The other tourists had not noticed, as we had, what a rotten kid he was, and "hired" him to arrange their visit to the Simiens. Anyway, we gratefully accepted the lift, and after a visit cut short by Derek's severe altitude sickness, returned to Gonder. A couple days later, as we were leaving Gonder, we ran into the young woman who had hired the kid and the van. She related to us how the kid had had his mother throw her a birthday party, and then billed her for all sorts of food and beverages that they didn't even consume. Not having learned her lesson, she bought the kid an Amharic-English dictionary worth $30, even writing a note on the first page to prevent the kid from reselling it. The good kid with the bum eye told us that the other kid had returned it to the bookstore for $10 anyway.

January 5, 2009

Faces of Mauritania

As I mentioned in my post of 08.12.12, Mauritania is about 30% Moor, 40% mixed Moor/black African and 30% black African. As one might expect of a country with such a complicated and evenly balanced racial makeup, identity politics is complicated in Mauritania: while the country's leadership, at least since the 70s, has identified itself with the Arab world (becoming a member of the Arab League in 1973), a significant part of the country essentially forms a continuation of black French West Africa. Aside from the by-color black population that has been integrated into the now-dominant Moorish, Arabic-speaking culture, there are also sub-Saharan black Africans, especially in the bigger cities.

For all of the mixedness of the country, the riots of 1989 (when the Moorish and sub-Saharan black African populations came into violent conflict, leading to the forced migration of many Moors from Senegal and black Africans from Mauritania) and the August 2008 coup, Mauritania seemed quite peaceful and stable to us, a sparsely-populated desert country with room for all.

Some of the black African residents of Mauritania





Some of the Moorish residents of Mauritania





By skin color, black, but, as far as we could tell, individuals whose families have long been culturally integrated into the Hassaniya-Arabic speaking culture of the Moors



January 4, 2009

Faces of Senegal and Mali



For all of its political and economic problems, and relative lack of tourist sites and infrastructure, there are some things about sub-Saharan Africa that are for travelers just about incomparable to anywhere else in the world. The two things that pop up most easily in our mind are the colors and the people. Both can be described with the same adjectives: brash, engaging, exuberant. It is something of a paradox for us; in some ways, Africans can be incredibly timid and mild-mannered, but most of the rest of the time, they can be among the most engaging, gregarious and openly friendly people in the world. This is not the sort of polite welcome and forbearance that one receives in Southeast Asia, or the almost formal hospitality one receives in the Middle East, but a sort of slap-on-the-back friendliness that is not afraid to make jokes and laugh, a smile that is almost overly broad, full of life.

I do not have too much to say about these photos, but consider them with this in mind: Africans may be poor but their persons do not speak poverty and despair, but vitality and joy. I begin first with photographs from Senegal, with its Wolof ethnic plurality, then move on to Mali, where up north around Timbuktu live the fair-skinned berber Tuareg.

Ile de Goree, near Dakar, Senegal



This elegant older woman was awaiting her son, who was supposed to arrive by ferry to celebrate her birthday but was running late. For whatever reason, we imagined her as a sort of Miss Havisham, coming to the ferry dock every day, thinking that it was her birthday and looking for her estranged son.


St. Louis, Senegal

The stick in her mouth is a sort of toothbrush; the apparent effectiveness of such traditional tools makes one wonder why we bother with plastic brushes and saccharine-laden paste.










Mali









A Fula/Peul herder in characteristic hat






A girl exhibiting a confidence that seems, to me, typically African


Tattoos, especially on women and quite often on faces, are worn by "tribal" women around the world.


From Timbuktu. The fairer people are Tuareg, a berber people who inhabit the regions around the Sahara in Mali, Niger, Algeria and Libya. The Tuareg held black Africans as slaves until quite recently, and are said by some to continue to hold slaves. The practice was defended to us as a domestic/familial link at this point rather than mere ownership.








From the Dogon Country






Back to Bamako

January 3, 2009

Food in West Africa

We really didn't know what to expect, for food, when coming to West Africa. We had never heard of Senegalese or Malian or Mauritanian food, and had no idea what they were like. We also knew from prior experience that, particularly in poorer countries, there can be a pretty big gap between the best of local cuisine (elaborate and delicious, but prepared only in private homes or for special occasions) and what is available for tourists (crude, dumbed down version of local cuisine or faux-western dishes), and feared that we would be reduced to eating plate after plate of quasi-French (bad steak frites) or spaghetti. One thing we definitely did not expect was a great cuisine--we figured that if there were something all that great, we would have heard of it by now, and seen restaurants serving it in the U.S.

Well, were we wrong. Mali and Mauritania don't really have much of a cuisine of their own to speak of, but Senegalese food can be phenomenal, and I would rank at least a couple of Senegalese dishes among the tastiest in the world. Not only are restaurants great in the Senegalese capital of Dakar, but well-prepared Senegalese food can be found all over West Africa, in recognition of its place as the region's finest cuisine. Revealing my ignorance, I learned that Senegalese food is also available in other parts of the world, particularly in France but also in American cities such as New York and Chicago. And so, at least when he's lucky, the tourist in Senegal, Mali and Mauritania gets to eat good Senegalese food, and that is the main focus of this post, although I include below some non-Senegalese dishes as well.

The queen of Senegalese food, and one of the greatest dishes in the world, as far as I'm concerned, is tieboudienne.



Tieboudienne is the French transliteration of the Wolof (the majority language in Senegal) name for the dish, which simply means rice with fish. But the dish is much more complicated.

First, the rice.



The rice, as you can see, is highly seasoned, and simply delicious to eat alone. Perhaps peculiarly, the Senegalese use broken rice, and cook it quite al dente, so that the rice has an almost couscous texture to it, quite pleasing in the mouth.

Then, the fish (and vegetables).



Fish is caught in plenty in Senegal, and that shows in the generous portion of delicious meaty flesh that usually comes with your tieboudienne. In addition to the fish is an assortment of vegetables, including usually carrot, potato or cassava, cabbage and eggplant. My favorite way of eating tieboudienne is to eat, with knife and fork, amounts of fish and vegetables in proportion to the rice I eat, alternating the vegetables such that, with my five last forkfuls of rice I have one small piece of each vegetable remaining. What fun in resource management!

A fancy tieboudienne, at a top Dakar restaurant


Perhaps the best thing about tieboudienne is not how tasty it is, which is of course true, but that it is considered the most basic Senegalese dish and therefore always available, even at the eateries. I can think of few places where the most basic item on a menu is so flavorful, complex and worthy of repeat eating. We never had a bad tieboudienne in Senegal (or Mali or Mauritania), no matter where we ate it, and since it's considered a sort of common dish, it is also very cheap--as cheap as USD 1 or 2 in Senegal, Mauritania or Bamako (sadly, good Senegalese restaurants are harder to find in Mali outside of Bamako).

The second greatest dish of Senegalese cuisine is yassa. You can get yassa with chicken, or fish, or anything else I suppose, but the most common is chicken.



Yassa is basically a very heavy oniony sauce, almost akin to French Onion Soup (is it possible that there is a relationship between the two?), and sometimes a little sour, as if the sauce is allowed to ferment, ever so slightly. Like tieboudienne, we never had a bad yassa, although the variation in quality was somewhat greater (tieboudienne is always delicious, yassa sometimes just so-so).

Yassa poisson--sorry for the messy plate!


A rather poor yassa, served with pasta in Djenne. Note how scrawny the chicken is! This plate cost USD 4.


A third Senegalese specialty, although one which it has to share with the rest of the region: mafe. Also known as sauce arachide, or peanut sauce, mafe is meat, often beef or mutton, in a rich peanut-based sauce. When done properly, or at least according to the style that i found myself preferring, the flavor is much darker and richer than the peanut sauce that is served in Southeast Asia to be eaten with your satay.



Also common, though less appealing, is soupe kandja. Kandja, strictly speaking, is not a soup at all, but a sauce to be eaten with rice, like mafe. It is primarily made, it seems, with okra or some other kind of starchy, slimy green. For people turned off by okra (which includes me), kandja is somewhat offensive, due purely to texture.


Served onboard our ship to Timbuktu


As I've said before, much of a traveler's time in West Africa is spent on the road, in share taxis or buses, and with the long rides at least some of your meals will be taken on the road as well. A few pictures showing the kinds of meals one is likely to have while traveling on the West African road.

One of the most basic roadside foods, which could almost be described as primitive, is roasted sheep. Roasted sheep is common in Senegal, Mali and Mauritania; the quality was clearly the best in Mauritania, but in Senegal the meat came with spices (cumin). Super greasy.



Breakfast usually means coffee and eggs at a roadside stand. The simplest way to eat the eggs, for a traveler, is a sandwich to go. A basic omelette, perhaps with onions, inside a baguette--not a bad way to start the day.


The selections that might be available at a basic eatery that a luckier traveler's bus might stop at. Nothing to complain about, in quality.


Eating more local.


One big and very welcome surprise in Timbuktu was that the food was among the best we'd had in West Africa outside of Dakar. While our hosts at Sahara Passion fed us well and included meals with the family in the reasonable cost of the room, a couple of restaurants in town are definitely worth noting and visiting.

As a sign that you are approaching North Africa, couscous and brochettes appeared on more menus. Here, couscous with vegetables and brochettes with sweet potato fries, at the excellent--food well exceeding the deceptively simple setup, to be sure--Amanar, near the Flamme de la Paix.



Even more impressive than Amanar was the Poulet d'Or, located inside Timbuktu's Marche Artisanal. The food took a while to arrive, but it was all excellent, including this presentation of a local specialty, toukassou. The big loaf in the middle surrounded by a meaty stew is a huge round spongy bread, not too dissimilar from the "dumplings" served in Czech food.


Our Tabaski feast (see post of 08.12.08)


And some local beverages to wash it down!

Despite the fact that Senegal and Mali are solidly Muslim countries, they fall in the category of Muslim countries with alcohol, such as Turkey and the ex-Soviet Stans of Central Asia. (In Mauritania, all alcohol is banned, although the local authorities never found the half-drunk bottle of Jim Beam which we have been carrying for so long on our trip.) First, a Senegalese beer, against a Dakar sunset. Second, a Malian beer, with the Mopti port in the background.



But we're not big drinkers. Far more appealing was bissap, pictured to the left, which is a cool drink made with hibiscus leaves (also known as kalkade, e.g., in Egypt). The drink on the right is bouye, made from the fruit of the baobab tree. Also delicious. The third picture is little baggies of bissap and a sort of ginger tea, often sold on the street (and of questionable food safety).



Coffee Touba. Touba is a city in Senegal known best for spiritual leadership and second for coffee.


In Mali and especially in Mauritania, tea is king, made in an elaborate ritual involving much pouring back and forth to cool and generate froth.