Saturday, April 15, 2006

dad time

Dad came to visit me in Morocco for my birthday. Okay, it wasn't actually FOR my birthday. I have to do a "visa run" every three months up to Spain or some Spanish enclave in Morocco since I'm on a tourist visa. Also known as, working illegally. Fierceness.

Dad managed to survive Egypt just fine (overnight bus rides, etc.), so I figured he could enjoy Morocco since it's smaller and more laid back (ie. less 'what country?, what country?'). He came over for a week and we hit the sights.

It was a lot of him filming, talking into the camera, talking at me THROUGH the camera. Here's photographic evidence. If memory serves me right, I think he was saying something along the lines of, "Eric, say something intelligent to the camera."


Of course we had to hit Marrakesh and the Djemma al Fna. Dad dove right in. The situation got control over him and he started wrapping snakes around his neck and poking at the cobra. Yet more photographic evidence.


I warned him that if he got down there with the snakes for a photo session, he'd have to pay 5 dirhams. I didn't want to get involved - so I just watched from a distance and took pictures to document the nonsense. He ended up getting convinced to give the man more money after he threw a temper tantrum. I had to intervene at this point - I don't give money to spoiled Moroccan brats. I took the money out of his tamburine, took my dad by the hand, and walked out of there. Note to self, must learn how to say "beggars can't be chosers" in Berber.

We went for a little trek up in the High Atlas. To get back into civilization, we had to take a shared grand taxi ride. Usually, the vehicle is able to accommodate 7 people, but in this case, it accommodated 8. One person may not sound like a big deal, but when that one person has to operate the clutch for the driver because the driver can't reach it - it suddenly becomes a big deal.

1,2,3,4 people sitting in the front. The guy in red is driving, and the guy to the left of him is clutching.


Saturday, April 01, 2006

pretty hands, pretty feet


I'm totally famous now. A guy I studied with in Yemen put me on the cover of his dissertation entitled - The Changing Role of Tribalism and State Consolidation in Yemen.

Yemen is the new Columbine.

Don't my fingers look pretty?