Sometimes....

I am an idiot. I bought some apples from a street vendor. He totally cheated me. It was the first time I'd done this. I was walking home from running an errand. I needed to get some apples. I didn't want to go to the grocery store with the hundreds of people and enormous lines. I had happened to walk by this guy and the fruits and veggies looked good. No one else was there. A quick stop and I could be on my way.

I forgot where I was and that in Marrakech they try to steal you blind and that you need to haggle. He told me the price and I was shocked by it, 42 dhirams which is about $5 and about 4 times what it should be. (I know Garren, I'm a moron) I can only justify my stupidity in paying this price with the explanation that I usually go to the grocery store where the prices are fixed and I just came back in London where I have no need to haggle. I stupidly paid him while still puzzling over the price and not realizing I needed to dispute it. As I walked away I immediately became angry at myself as I realized I'd played the role of the stupid foreigner perfectly.

In the scheme of things it's only $5 which if I was going to be robbed blind $5 is not the end of the world, but I just hate that I have to haggle (read argue/have a confrontation) with people. I hate that they just can't give me a fair price and let me be on my way. Maybe I'm just a naive Westerner (or really an avoid confrontation at all costs type of person) but I hate that buying a few apples can turn into a whole ordeal. Next time I'll let it turn into a whole ordeal. Next time I will be prepared for them to try to treat me like a dumb foreigner. Next time they had better watch out.

Next time I will go to the grocery store even with its immense lines to avoid having to deal with this.

ugh. idiot.

High Maintenance

Since moving to Marrakech, my beauty regime has not been kept up to previous standards. (Who knew I was so high maintenance?) Back in California I used to get my hair cut every 8 weeks, my eyebrows waxed every 3 weeks and have a pedicure around every 1-2 months depending on the weather.

I’ve managed to get my haircut since moving here, having found a French salon around the corner, but I still miss my hair time with Ashley back at Oxen Rose and with no curlers or flat iron here (the voltage can’t convert with those devices so I left them behind) my hair is pretty frizzy most of the time.

As for the eyebrows, I don’t know how much I trust anyone here with hot wax near my eyes. Actually I do know how much I trust them. Not at all. So I’ve been attempting to pluck my own eyebrows, which I hate.

I’ve already looked up an Aveda salon in London to rectify the situation.

And then there is the pedicure. I’ve actually been given recommendations for a place to go here in Marrakech, but I’ve been too lazy to go and now that the weather has turned cold, well nobody sees my feet anymore but me and Kept Man. And now you lucky people.

I know you're probably disgusted by looking at my feet, but look when we were Christmas shopping in the souks I bought myself some leather babouches in a pretty purple color which hides my un-pedicured feet from sight.


Kept Man thinks my slippers smell from the leather making process which he had the opportunity to visit on his guided tour of the Medina. He frequently throws them into the other room when I’m not looking. Poor pretty babouches.

In other news with all our Christmas shopping we've gotten better at haggling in the souks. Or rather Kept Man has gotten better. I've gotten better at keeping my mouth shut in the background and pretending to be a simpering well mannered wife.

Side Trip

We're going to Prague!

Seriously! And for a month or so. Not just a visit. That's right this Marrakech based couple is packing up and moving!

As some of you may be aware things with the hotel here in Marrakech are a little delayed and frankly I'm bored. I can only do so much without a property management system. So my fabulous boss at corporate level asked if I'd be willing to help at another hotel property where the Revenue Manager had just left and fill in until they found someone. I said YES! And at the same time she made sure that it would be alright for my husband to be there with me. He'll only take up a small corner of the hotel room and I promised he'd be as quiet as a mouse.

So after our London adventure we fly straight to Prague. When we come back I do not know yet.

Who wants to come visit?

Little Tabby

There is a kitten in our apartment. We were just starting dinner. Watching some TV and a little tabby kitten walked in from our balcony. Our fourth floor balcony. WTF?! He's currently behind the TV playing with some plastic and he's ignored all attempts to feed him milk or some burger. I don't know what to do. I don't want to put him back on the balcony or even kick him outside the door. It's like abandoning him to the wolves. But I can't keep him either. Maybe he belongs to a neighbor. I hope so.

I can't have a cat here. 1. Garren would kill me 2. I would have to bring him home 3. Willoughby and Maggie would kill me.

What do I do?!

Shhh!

So it's not a secret that filming is happening in various areas of Morocco for this movie. But what is not commonly know is that filming in Marrakech is going to be at my office this upcoming week. I probably shouldn't have mentioned, but I just had to share.

In alternate more perhaps important news the Secretary of State is also in Marrakech this week. Apparently Marrakech is very popular all of a sudden.

Cats of Marrakech #1

I miss my cats. I miss the weight of Willoughby on my chest while he stretches his paws at me to pet him. I miss Maggie's playfulness in the morning and her meows for pets. I miss their greetings of happiness when I get home in the evening. Obviously they want food but they're still happy to see me.

There are tons of cats here in Marrakech. The truth is they break my heart. They have no homes, they fend for themselves and they only want to be loved. I wish I had the time and know how to start an animal shelter for all the dogs and cats in this city. I am sorely tempted to adopt one, but if I adopt one I won't want to leave it here and 1. trying to get it home and 2. trying to then integrate a new cat with Maggie and Willoughby when I return when they will probably already be pissed at me....not so much fun.

So instead I placate myself by petting the cats in my neighborhood and naming them. And maybe giving them a bit of food if I happen to have it. I will soon be the neighborhood cat lady.

On my first Cats of Marrakech post I give you daisy. The cutest calico I ever did see.