I just thought I’d pass on one of the “Possibly Related Posts” that came up to this post of mine:
“Why I’m Atheist (But Hey, That’s Just Me)”
Have no idea who Andrew Muir is, but hey, I like the post. Also, interesting that some might say “I’m an atheist”, others just “I’m atheist”. I wonder what the difference is?
We caught the train to Fez in the morning of Day 4, and in the evening I didn’t update my diary because (as I wrote the day after) “although we did lots, or maybe because we did lots, I had nothing to say.” At the time this seemed a bit of a problem to me – I didn’t like having a completely empty head at the end of a day filled with so many completely new experiences! – but now I don’t mind so much. I mean, between then and now my worry that the rush would mean no impressions stuck has proved to be unfounded.
Another issue arising out of Day 4, however, I have not entirely come to terms with yet. It is the issue of sheep. More precisely, being treated like one. A rich one. I did know at the outset that traveling on a pre-booked and pre-organised trip meant that we would be herded around in a group. What I hadn’t considered was the extent of this herding, and the effect it would have on me and my mood. Day 4, being so full of must-sees, was the worst in that regard. We were taken to a pottery, a tannery, palaces, fortresses, carpetshops, mosques, labyrinths and a weavery (is that even a word?) – all places I really wanted to see, and I think the local guide, Ahmed, did a great job of fitting so much in. (He also talked almost constantly about everything we were passing by – which would have been fantastic if I had had time to listen, but as it was I was too busy trying to keep up and watch my feet.) So although seeing all of this in one morning-and-a-bit was hectic, I don’t think I would have gotten grumpy at it if it wasn’t for the shops. We would be shown in to a workshop, explained how something was made (usually it was amazingly intricate, and/or time consuming), led to admire the handicraft and the commitment of the workers, told “take photos! take photos!” and occasionally offered mint tea. All well and good, and it would probably in itself make me want to make a purchase. If it wasn’t for the obligation/expectation/pressure to do exactly that. Which I had also been warned about – it’s just that I didn’t realise what it would make me feel like. After a day of it, after the pattern was repeated at the pottery, the tannery, the carpetshop etc, it made me want to yell. Really loudly. “I am not a piggy bank! Yes we may on average be better off than you – evidenced by the fact that I’m here, on holidays, but that does not oblige me to spend time and money on your crap!” – But then again, maybe that’s exactly what it does oblige me to; it is this ambiguity that is still doing my head in.
Still. I did manage to get some nice souvenirs, and not feel toooo much like they’d been forced on me. And seeing the sights of Fez, regardless of in what company, was amazing.
The next day, Day 5, was listed in the itinerary as “free time” – which provided a perfect balance to the intensity of the previous day. Those tour-designers probably know what they are dong after all. 
Lisa and I spent the day mostly in a cafe called Café Clock, and in the evening we brought Mohamed 2 and some of the other travelers back there for a local music jam.
(And desert and more mint tea.)
This was the end of the hustle and bustle of cities for a while:
Next stop, the desert!
I love Romeo and Juliet. But, I do not like Romeo and Juliet. They are selfabsorbed and overly emotional, they act rashly and disregard the (good and bad) advice of their parents and friends, they disagree with each other as soon as they speak, and, worst in my books, they are inconstant (just like the Juliet blames the moon for being). They are, of course, absolutely perfect for this play. I just always forget how much they annoy me, which annoys me. (And makes me cringe, because, well, who hasn’t been in love like that?)
Anyway. The reason for this announcement is that I saw Romeo og Julie at Nationaltheatret tonight. It was… awesome. But odd. Decidedly odd. I am used to “a Shakespeare experience” (so to speak) being about the language, the poetry, the wit, the words – plot/personalities come second, mise en scène and choreography last. This time, the language (Norwegian) took a back seat along with the plot, and the show was run by… well, by the show.
It’s not that I don’t think that Norwegian can be artistic or beautiful – if you think so I have a pile of books for you to read – it’s just that any translation of Shakespeare is going to have a lot to measure up to, and in this case it may as well not have been Shakespeare. Which is a complement! I lack the correct theatre-vocabulary, but all the other stuff, the stuff that is not just the actor’s lines – their costumes (mostly black and white, sometimes almost hipster, sometimes more Revolutionary Road or Grease), the set (sparse: littered with letters, a huge screen, a wall, rubbish bags and IKEA couches), the music (opera plus rock plus disco plus pop plus more opera), the lights (more mostly black and white), the random (or not) filming which was broadcasted live on the backdrop-wall, reminiscent of the mute films of the 20s – all of that was great. Inventive. Funny. Captivating.
The dialogue however, against all this, turned into almost a distraction. Not because it was translated – that just meant that as well as triggering the actual meanings of the words in my head, Shakespeare’s lines (where I knew them more or less by heart, which was quite often) were also brought to mind, which caused a bit of an overlap and a weird deja vu kind of feeling. The reason why it occasionally jarred so badly I was brought back to my seat (I mean, to an awareness of my surroundings – what, I’m not really in Verona?) was the sonnets. Every here and there, seemingly at a whim, some of Shakespeare’s sonnets – the ones not originally in any play – were thrown into the mix. I was ambivalent towards the effect of this right from the start. Still, it may still have only been mentioned in a byline in this blog. If it hadn’t been for the end.
The last scene of the last act. Romeo and Juliet are both dead, the families have just discovered the extent of the tragedy. Capulet and Montague “make up”, and the Prince comes on the scene. He cautions everybody that blame shall be apportioned, that some shall be pardoned and some punished, that this is a gloomy day and that “never was a story of more woe, than this of Juliet and her Romeo”. The End. Or not! In this version, Capulet offers his hand to Mrs Montague, and Mrs Montague spits in it. Rants for a bit, the others look sad, and then she goes over to the two corpses. She stands over them, and (wait for it…) performs “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” (Here it is.)
I mean – WTF?? I got so irate at this complete mauling of the last scene that Lisa had to tell me to calm down. (Thanks Lisa, you saved my bloodvessels. I’m actually completely relaxed now, it’s just more fun to rant.)
WHAT WERE THEY THINKING?? For starters, it doesn’t belong there. Artistic liberties and all that, but only so long as IT MAKES SENSE! Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day DOES NOT. And performed by Romeo’s MUM? Who has, like, THREE other lines in the whole play? Clearly touched in the head by her son’s death, but why then such an OPTIMISTIC sonnet?? Wouldn’t “No longer mourn for me when I am dead” have been a more suitable epitaph? Actually maybe not. But seriously. I get that maybe whoever stuck it there was making some comment about Shakespeare’s poetry, and the beauty of it, surviving many a “summer’s day”, but — then that’s just a really lame way to end a really cool play. Gah. Go and see it anyway, now that I’ve burst any bubble of expectation you may have had about the ending.
Rant: over.
...Summarised in Flights.
Oslo – Bali: 1997
Bali – Melbourne: 1997
Melbourne – Auckland (return): 2004
Melbourne – Milan (return): 2007
Melbourne – Athens: 2005
Melbourne – Beijing: 2008
Frankfurt – Oslo: 2005
Oslo – London (return): 2006, 2009, 2009
Oslo – Barcelona (return): 2009
Oslo – Amsterdam (return): 2009
Oslo – Marrakech (return): 2010
Oslo – Trondheim (return): 2006
Moscow – Paris: 2008
Melbourne – Oslo: 1987, 1994, 2000, 2003
Oslo – Melbourne: 1987, 1994, 2000, 2004, 2007, 2010 (impending)
It doesn’t freak me out quite as much when listed like this.
Part 2 – The Cities
Day 3
This is the Hassan II Mosque, the third biggest in the Islamic world. Read all about it here – we were given most of this info by a guide named Aisha. She also told us that although the mosque was commissioned by the king (Hassan II, father of the current king Mohamed VI), it was funded by the public: anyone who wanted to donate could give as little or as much as they wanted, and received a certificate in return with a picture of the mosque and a “thanks” from the king. By doing it this way, Hassan II wanted to make it a “mosque of the people”. Interestingly, this information was later contradicted by Mohamed 2: As we caught the train to Meknes, we talked a bit about the mosque, how impressive it was, blahblah, and Mohamed 2 asked us if we wanted his opinion? Naturally, we said yes, and in a surprisingly angry tone he told us what a waste of money it was, how it was just publicity for Hassan II while half the country still couldn’t read, and that rather than asking people to contribute, a special tax had been introduced to pay for it. To top it all off, it already needed extensive renovations – being built so impractically close to the sea and salty air. So there you go.
At Meknes we were handed over to the first in a series of “local guides”, Youssef. The style of his English was modeled on BBC (impressively so) but did not at all match its content – his table conversation had more in common with the gutter than with Cambridge/Oxford. It was also during Youssef’s guiding that the next contradiction showed up:
These caverns may have been the dungeons of Moulay Ismael, where he kept up to 60 000 prisoners – mostly Spanish, captured on the high seas by Ismael’s pirate friend – like Youssef told us. Or, they may have been storage spaces for grain, like Lonely Planet told us. When we asked Mohamed 2 he this time chose the diplomatic option – they could’ve been used for both. And regardless, they spooked me out.
I’m in two minds about this. On the one hand, I think travel-writers (/bloggers) should have superior observational/descriptive skills, and (or at the very least and/or) they should know something about the place they are traveling to/through and thus have something substantial to say about it. I’m disqualified on both counts, which brings me to the other hand: I did start this blog so people could stay updated on my comings and goings and thoughts in the process. And I did indisputably go to Morocco, which it’s not entirely suppositious to believe would be of some interest to some of you.
So. With photos as an aid to my descriptions, and Lonely Planet and wikitravel to make up for my deficient knowledge of the country, I will try to give a not-too-long-and-boring account of Lisa’s and my recent adventures in Morocco, in approximately four parts.
Part I – The Beginning
Lisa and I landed in Marrakech in the afternoon on Saturday the 9th of January, in the reckoning of travel-time henceforth called Day 1. In the setting sun we caught a bus to the central square (Djemma el Fna), gazing at camels and palms on the way, and found a cheerfully patterned room in a nearby hotel without much hassle.
For dinner we went for salad, tabbouleh and tea on a terrace overlooking the square – now turned into a buzzle of snakecharmers, fortunetellers, random huddles and foodstalls.
These, and many like them, were selling dates, prunes, dried apricots and nuts; in other words everything that a traveller’s stomach may desire. Lisa and I were thankfully not far enough into our journey to, erm, feel the need (or not feel the need, as the case would be) and so steered clear.
This night was also an introduction to the ubiquitous Mint Tea -
- on this occasion served at Aqua with a two-man-band of bad English and worse diction. Good strumming though.
Day 2 it was up bright and early for a train to Casablanca. We shared our coupé and chocolate with an old Arabic couple wearing the awesome jellabahs, played cards and marvelled at the landscape outside – “look, no snow!”
The High Atlas Mountains on the horizon were a surprise to me (I guess I didn’t realise they could be seen from Marrakech), and I found myself thinking of Van Gogh’s skies. I kind of want to ramble about the way travel in foreign lands invariably takes my mind back to more familiar places, or to other journeys I’ve made, and the positives and negatives of this kind of “linking”, but since I’m not exactly sure what my point is, and I don’t want to bore you – moving right along.
Once in Casablanca we didn’t have to meet our group until the evening, and so had the whole day to ourselves. We spent it doing the “Walking Tour” in my Lonely Planet guide. Good thing we did, too, or I may never have noticed the occasional nice buildings among Casablanca’s many monstrosities.
On our way back to the hotel we managed to get slightly lost, but after a stop for hot chocolate and shelter (from the sudden rain) at Paul’s, we still made it back in time for the foyer catch-up – the rest of our group were Tina and Tracy (a couple from Kansas City, Missouri – Tracy was male; said his mum just felt like being nast in naming him), and Parminder, a Canadian with Indian parents. Mohamed 2 was to be our guide – he was called Mohamed 2 because another group had Mohamed 1. This other group, as well as having a same-named guide, had a very similar itinerary to us, so we ended up sharing train rides, hotels, meals and adventures with them quite a lot, which was nice. Later we also met Mohamed 3 and 4, 5 and 6 – but that’s a story for another day.
This post might seem a little long and out of left field, but as it is a discussion which worked as a starting point for other things I want to write (rant) about, I thought it best to publish it as is; basically verbatim except for some “tidying up”. Enjoy! (??)
———–
Setting: Skype one far-too-late night.
Hanne: I saw Richard Dawkins preaching militant atheism on TED the other day.
Dan: He kind of reminds me of Malcolm X in some ways, with the whole militance. Though I agree with him.
H: I don’t know Malcolm X. And Dawkins’ militance annoys me a bit, actually.
D: Ex-minister of Islam who fought for black rights and was eventually assassinated.* Qualitatively different to King in that Malcolm X preached militance instead of tolerance.
Why do you get annoyed? Do you not agree or you just don’t like his methods?
H: I don’t like his methods, and I don’t think he sufficiently acknowledges that science rests on a subjective worldview as well. As in, positivism.
D: Yeah, but I think like preaching democracy it’s a matter of the choice that makes the most sense, despite its innate flaws. It’s not infallible, but it’s a hell of a lot better than the methods he is arguing against.
H: No, I think it should be more about making the choice that brings the most good to the world.
D: You don’t think that it does?
H: (though both “making sense” and “bringing good” are of course both subjective…) I think science brings the most good to the world, but not militance.
D: Heh but how do you achieve a mass adoption of science as quickly as possible without militance?
The other side is sure as hell fighting with militance. And I think it’s a time critical thing.
H: Yes, but why do you need to force mass adoption of science? If it’s as good as Dawkins claims, it’ll speak for itself.
Time critical? Why? How?
D: Time critical because the faster it’s adopted the faster (and this is the bit where I start to sound like a raving madman) we can avert the destruction we’re causing to ourselves. In so many areas, though mostly environmentally.
H: But that’s what I mean about the choice that brings the most good – I think militance just gets people’s backs up, but you can use religion to get people to stop wrecking the environment too! The goal is the most important, not the means. (That’s not the same as saying that the ends justify the means.)
D: Definitely, but *I* believe it’s the best way to go about it.
H: *I* believe not.
D: Preaching ignorance as a virtue is not going to solve the problems that require solving.
H: No, that’s true.
D: And I think that (amongst many other things) is what most irks me about Religion. Some how blind faith and ignorance has become some kind of righteous virtue amongst society. I think for a long time Science has tolerated being this off the wall sect and something most people alienate and don’t think is important in day to day life. Science has taken the ‘let results speak for themselves’ path pretty much since it’s inception. It’s working, but too slowly. Rather than tolerating religion, I believe it’s time to start actively criticising it. For some reason it occupies some kind of untouchable throne in society. You can’t criticise it.
H: You can criticise it! Well, I think so?
D: Do you think you can? I mean on a large scale. You can piss all over it in private but to be overtly anti-religious, especially in any arena that matters, is seen as heinous.
H: I don’t know, on a large scale. But I don’t think you should attack people’s personal faith. It’s not what’s stopping them from doing something about the environment.
D: Why shouldn’t you attack someones personal faith?
H: Hold on, I’ll explain what I mean
D: (when I say that, I say that as the trickled down result of collective faith)
H: I think that personally, people can believe whatever they want about life and death and a creator or not. Because ultimately, we can’t know how this all works, and though it seems reasonable that when we die we just die, it’s a scary thought. I think people should be allowed to find comfort where they can. As for institutionalised faith, ie religion, I think it should be criticised on the same level as any other institution. It has its (ulterior) motives, and a lot of them I agree are crap. (Though bear in mind that science has crappy goals too – warfare, anyone?) So, when the goal is to get people to stop wrecking the earth, then I don’t see any problem with using the institutions (religion included) to achieve that. I don’t think science should be preached as an opposition to religion, but instead as something that religion needs to use, in order to reach its goals (of getting people to stop wrecking the earth).
H: Phew!
(…)
D: Oh yeah I understand what you mean, though I think it’s wrong. Moreso, I disagree with it.
H: ?
D: Ok well I agree with the life and death part
H: Rightio
D: That people can believe what they want. People being socialized into thinking a certain thing about it is silly. Especially a way that ordains them into servitude during life. I don’t believe a goal of science is warfare. I think that’s a caustic statement.
H: No, but science is used for warfare. Just like faith is used to get people to submit. That’s where the ulterior motives of the institutions come in.
D: Science is perverted for warfare, technology is intrisically neither good nor evil.
H: Faith is neither good or evil either! I don’t think. Faith is just perverted too- I guess we need to separate the Science, and the Faith, as “pure” things, from what bad people use those things for. Or is that an artificial kind of divide?
D: And the reason science is pitted against religion is because religion instructs people to act on ignorance, rather than reason. And for that reason, moreso than any other, religion is incredibly dangerous. By its very core, it teaches ignorance as a virtue.
H: I’m not convinced that that is the core of religion [more about this later!]
D: I think it does by definition. Religion is theist; belief in a higher power. A power that does not exist as a result of evidence, rather ignorance.
H: Ok, so I guess you might be right about that. But I’m still not sure that the solution is to preach militant atheism, because people generally don’t separate their Faith from their Religion, and so will think that you are attacking their Faith. Which won’t help at all. So although the results don’t “speak for themselves”, as you say, it might be better just to make the results speak slightly louder. So people can see that they are compatible with Faith at least.
D: Ok I can agree on that
to an extent
which I will clarify
later!
—–
The end of the discussion wasn’t actually as abrupt as that, but it was only fragmentarily continued in Amsterdam, and so I was left with the hangover. So far I haven’t really managed to sort it out, either. Except for that I might be getting a bit too ontological on yo’ass [sic], with the science ≈ positivism. And, the comments highlighted in bold still stand as awkwardly pointy question marks in my head, especially the first one – and especially especially after reading an article about how Pro-Life (abortion debate) people have killed several abortion doctors. IT MAKES ME SO ANGRY!
And so does war, but that’s a slightly different topic. Still though, both arguments boil down to my thinking that this planet we’re on is a tiny insignificant fluke (taking the big picture), but that since we’re indisputably here (or think that we’re here, I’m leaving that option open too; it has the same consequences), and living, and other stuff is living too, that life is worth preserving. More worth than anything else, quite possibly, but don’t quote me on that. Yet. (Yes, I’m a hippie. But not like the Na’vis in Avatar, who evidently had no issues with killing humans. [more about this later too.]) This stance developed (consciously) the other night during a way-too-late conversation with Andreas, but unfortunately wasn’t saved on Skype – damn face-to-face communication!
So instead, I leave you with this:
An episode of Southpark! And its sequel. (Dawkins himself is not sure of the “point” of these episodes. That puzzles me.)
—-
*fun fact: this definition helped me answer a question in Bezzerwizzer (a trivia boardgame) that no one else knew the answer to, just a few weeks later.
I’m just repeating myself, but: AAAAHHHH! I leave in two days! I’m not organised!
Since this trip to Morocco is a (semi-)guided one though, I figure I’ll be fine. Nothing could be worse than sitting on a plane to Auckland and discovering that the date on my Russian visa doesn’t match the date I actually arrive in Russia – I don’t think I’ve ever felt so helpless and confused in my entire life. But even that worked out ok!
So. Morocco will be awesome. I’m also totally excited that for once I can bring many books on my travels – thanks to the Kindle! Not that there will be much time for reading, I don’t think. Which brings me to what this post is actually about – there probably won’t be much time for writing, either, and not much internet access. But! Never fear! I have a new day-a-page diary, in which shall be recorded the entirety of our adventures. The censored (?) version of which will appear here, afterwards. Stay tuned…
I really do. Not only is it tedious and stressing, it also steals time. Time I would much rather spend doing the other things associated with moving countries/homes – like saying goodbye to a year of my life.
Thankfully, being forced to organise 12 months into postable boxes also has its positive sides. Sorting through all the junk that has accumulated (you wouldn’t believe how much stuff I’ve got!) means that I occasionally stumble across things I’d forgotten all about, which can be nice/nostalgic/funny – or just plain weird, like this:
