Morocco Day 10

Here’s Looking At You Kid

The entire reason we came to Casablanca was because Jenny said she really wanted to see the Hassan II Mosque, the only mosque in all of Morocco that we could visit. Besides the mosque, there wasn’t much else in Casablanca worth taking time from other places so I planned it so we could tour the mosque this morning before our afternoon flight on to Abu Dhabi via Paris.

I had read it was best to get there first thing in the morning so that is exactly what we did, queuing up at 8:30 for the first mandatory tour at 9:00.

The mosque is spectacular, built over seven years with laborers and artisans working 24/7 in 8 hour shifts. All the materials were sourced in Morocco except two from Italy -the 260 chandeliers (Verano glass) and two small carrera marble pillars on either side of the mirhab (the positional niche facing mecca).

The mosque holds over 25,000 worshippers inside (with an additional 80,000 outside) and boasts heated floors for winter and a roof that can slide open on nice days. The craftsmanship was magnificent and it was fun hearing the sources as many of the areas of Morocco that we had just been in.

The minaret is 690 feet tall – the second tallest in the world (behind one in Algeria) and can be seen from many parts of Casablanca. In the basement is the wash room, a gorgeous area of fountains and tile work, where the faithful go and clean themselves before praying – a very precise ritual of washing hands, forearms, and face three times each, always beginning on the right side.

We were very surprised that women were allowed in the mosque without covering their hair, though out of respect Jenny and I both did. Morocco surprised me in how culturally traditional it was as far as dress went. From the time we left Marrakesh until the time we got to Casablanca, I think I could count on one hand the number of Moroccan women who did not completely cover themselves. The vast majority left their faces exposed though I saw quite a few with full face coverings (niqabs and burqas) as well. The same went for the men, I rarely saw a man that was not dressed in a jillaba or burnous.

The mosque was fantastic! I took our planned second night from Imlil which removed our trek yesterday to make it work but we all agreed we were very happy with that decision and getting to see it.

With just two hours to kill before needing to leave for the airport, we decided to take a quick walk from the hotel passing through the old Medina. We were pleasantly surprised that we did not get hassled. It is actually against the law in Morocco to hassle tourists but locals are fair game; however many vendors do not heed the law. 

Casablanca is far different in almost every way from what we experienced and saw in the other parts of Morocco. It is far less traditional in style of dress – the number of people dressed in a more western style of dress far exceeded the numbers dressed more conservatively, including most women without their hair covered. There is far less traditional architecture, it being characterized more by colonial architecture and modern buildings – a cross Jenny said between Beverly Hills and Mexico City; I liken it more to Buenos Aires with all the once lavish building now crumbling in a serious state of disrepair, but unlike Buenos Aires it is immaculately clean.

People were constantly on the move unlike most of the small towns and villages we saw where people were either completely absent or were sitting somewhere in the shade – except for when we drove through on market day and of course, Imlil. The weather in Casablanca was glorious with temps in the low 70s – we had similar temps at the coast in Douira but with far more humidity. Even though Casablanca is also on the coast, there was no humidity felt. 

The only thing I knew about Casablanca before coming, was what I learned about its place in history during WWII from the movie, a required watch in Dr. Collins’ 12th grade English class. There is a place here called Rick’s Cafe, and as I understand it, it is just like the one in the movie – if we had had more time, we would have gone in and looked for Sam.

Our drive to the airport was rather interesting. Apparently, the king is in Casablanca for three days and the highways were crawling with police for 30 kilometers outside of the city, every overpass had four officers standing with another set of officers stationed on the ground below. Every maybe 1/8 mile there was another 2 or 3 patrol cars and/or motorcycles positioned. Every small offshoot on the main road leading to the airport had a police officer standing. It was a beyond extensive and really quite something to see. 

Our flight departed from Casablanca airport (originally Nouasseur Air Base – the American air base used to stage all US aircraft for the European Theater during WWII) for Paris, where after a 2 1/2 hour layover we caught our six hour flight to Abu Dhabi.

All three of us loved Morocco – we especially loved how unbelievably friendly everyone we encountered was, in a most authentic way. Our visit was appreciated every stop we made – we never felt nor saw any anti-American sentiment. There was some vocal disbelief that America is looking at electing either “an old man or a conman…” Most reacted, upon hearing we were American, by holding a closed hand to their heart – a gesture meant to show respect and gratitude. This trip, once again, dispelled a lot of myths and gave us a much different perspective on Moroccan men, specifically. Billy said today, they we never witnessed anyone yelling or encountered anyone in a bad mood; everyone is grateful and appreciative – from our tuk tuk driver, to the children whose pictures Jenny took, to the  man who owned a little roadside store where we stopped for water, to the old woman Jenny gave coins to who was begging on the streets – all thanked us profusely, kindly and most importantly sincerely.

The natural beauty of Morocco resonated not only through our eyes with every new scene we saw but through our hearts with every new hand we shook. 

Shukran Morocco for a wonderfully beautiful trip; we would happily return.