But first, we passed a Japanese tour bus in Ifrane. Ben was really excited.
We were let off in the centre ville and walked to the medina. It wound up being something like half an hour. Which is nothing when you hiked 9 hours in two days the previous weekend. But that's beside the point.
So not too long after we leave the taxi station and as we're walking through downtown, we're crossing a street. Which is dangerous in and of itself. I decide it's safer to walk on the sidewalk than in the street. Usually a good idea. Not a good idea when said sidewalk consists of wet cement.
I laughed about it the entire day.
I stepped up onto the sidewalk, sank into it a little, put my other foot down like a fool, screeched, and jumped back into the street. Ally and I laughed for like a block and a half. I wish now that I'd taken a photo of my shoe prints. :( And for the record, the sidewalk was not roped off and there was no warning about the cement. I guess they expect you to watch where you're walking or something. (Something Moroccans don't usually do either, but that's beside the point.)
So we found the medina, finally. After walking by a construction site and learning they're putting a Carrefour in Fes! But not til like 2011, so it's dead to me. I miss Carrefour though. But I digress. Medina. We almost got run over by a few donkeys, mopeds, and dirt trucks. Went to a restaurant. Talked to Ally's friends there. =P Waiter man decided Andrew and Annemarie were married and that he and I were siblings. I'd say it's just because we're white, but Ben was not included in the family affair. Maybe Ben was just giving off "Don't mess with me, I'm Canadian" vibes at this point. Ally was off making new friends in the restaurant. There were a bunch of guys from Cameroon there getting lunch before the game too.
Oh god, I just lost The Game.
Moving on. Party over here:
Annemarie, Me, Ben, Ally, Andrew
Post-lunch (mmm, tajine!) we went souvenir shopping in the medina. I has a scarf. Ally is amazing at bargaining. Of course, after she argued with the scarf guy and got us 50 Dh scarves, we passed a stall maybe 10 feet away selling the same scarves for 20 Dh. Oh, life. I mean, it's a different of $4, but still. Wandered a little. Took turns leading and getting us lost. More souvenir shopping. Failed attempts at getting Morocco jerseys. Suddenly realized we had like an hour and a half before the game started, so we booked it out of the medina and got cabs to the stadium.
Petit taxis only take a max of three people. We had five. Clearly we had to split up. Andrew and I were the designated French speakers.
Ally: I call Cat!
Ben: I call Andrew!
...Smartest decision ever. Let's send the two boys (and Annemarie) together and me and Ally alone. This didn't really occur to anyone until Ally and I were dropped off on the other side of the stadium from everyone else. And were pretty much the only girls in sight. However, cell phones are amazing and we eventually found the others. Found out the ticket window was closed. Oops. Also found the only guy in the country who doesn't speak French. That one threw me off. But yeah. We didn't have tickets because you can't buy anything in this country online. The stadium was pretty far out of the city, so we didn't go beforehand. We figured we could buy them right before we went in because we didn't think many people would be going. Even if Morocco won they weren't going to the World Cup. We could have bought scalped tickets, but while Ally and I were wandering a soldier warned the others against buying from a scalper.
So there were fences up to keep the crowd out. At some point not long after the game started, the crowd starts rushing the fences and then they break through. So people take off running. And then run back, because the soliders are beating them back. Literally. And the cycle repeats. And then Ben joins the crowd. And tells us, "If I get arrested, it's my own fault. Don't worry about me!"
And he was never heard from again.
Okay that's a lie. But sounds more epic. He made it through. And not long after that we all got through, because they just let everyone go. Which Ben's roommate had said they would probably do in order to fill the stadium.
The game itself was actually kind of lame. It went by really quickly though. And really made me miss playing. Aww. I can't remember what the score was. It was either 2-0 or 3-0 Cameroon. Morocco did get a goal though. Some random guy got on the field carrying his own soccer ball and ran from Morocco's goal line all the way down to Cameroon's. He stopped in front of the goal and punted the ball into the net, then fell to the ground dramatically. The players and the refs just stood there and watched it happen. Cameroon's goalie wasn't even in the net. After that, while everyone was cheering, the police dragged the guy off the field and beat him. Yeah.
During the later part of the second half we made some new friends too. And by made friends I mean a bunch of young boys came over and started talking to us. Mostly in Arabic. Hey guys, let's go talk to the white people in Arabic! I'm sure they'll understand! They had a great time when they asked Ally in Arabic, "Do you speak Arabic?" and she said "La." (No.)
Then, in Arabic, "Do you speak French?"
"La."
Again in Arabic, "Do you speak English?"
"Oui."
...Well played, Ally. So they amused themselves for a good five minutes repeating that exchange. I should probably mention that in addition to being teenagers, maybe younger, (which makes them obnoxious by default), and in addition to being boys (which not only makes them more obnoxious but also means they have no respect for women), they had been huffing wood glue or something from a plastic bag. So these kids rose very quickly on the list of people I want to hurt. They had a great time babbling at us in Arabic. At some point they realized I speak French and one of them invited me to his house for couscous. And then tried to steal my sunglasses. Off my face. This country is so special.
Suddenly, when there are probably fewer than five minutes left in the game, everyone runs up to the top of the stands. Except for the confused foreigners. A soldier comes by and has us move down about ten rows. We found out later, via Ben, that the charging was to avoid getting hit by flying chairs. Because people just tear them up and throw them. Awesome. We didn't see any of this. We did see three soldiers chase someone and start beating him like three rows behind us.
So we left. And there's minor chaos going on outside. People are yelling and throwing things and running around. And there are a lot of these fences lying around from when the crowd rushed them earlier.
And people are flinging them around? Ally and I are trying to navigate our way out of the chaos before she has an anxiety attack. Andrew and Annemarie are a few feet behind us. There is metallic scraping all around us as fences are being dragged, pushed, and flung.
And OH HAI, one hits me in the leg. It was on its side, and the part that hit me was the foot of it. Right in the back of the knee. Initially I was just like "Okay wut? I got hit by a fence?" And we kept walking. Ben materialized out of nowhere. And we walked back to centre ville. Traffic was crazy and there was absolutely no way we were getting a taxi, at least not from the stadium. At some point I stopped and looked at my leg and was like "Oh hey, big angry red spot!" It was maybe six o'clock at this point. We were in search of a Japanese/Thai restaurant that some other exchange students had told us about. The first guy I asked about it looked at me funny and said it was about 5km (3.1 miles) away and that we should take a taxi. Hah. Again, the taxis were few and far between, and those that we saw were all full. So we kept walking. A lot. I asked maybe four more people where it was just to make sure we were going the right way. Yay, French.
Finally got back to centre ville. Passed the infamous wet cement sidewalk, but we couldn't find my shoe prints. There were a lot of others though. Got taxis to the restaurant. Which happens to be a semi-fancy-ish place. And we're all sweaty and gross. And my shoes have cement on them. Whee.
But oh my god the food. There are no words for how awesome this food was. I got sweet & sour something or other and I died a little when I tried it. It was actually a little sad, I think, how excited we all were over it. God it was so good though. As we were getting ready to leave another group of exchange students came in. We laughed. And then came back to Ifrane. Went out for a few drinks. Came back and got sandwiches at the cafe. Pretty much had an awesome day.
And then I took this picture.
Hahaha. I feel like I should be angry that I was hit by a fence. Or... something. I swear to god all I've done is laugh about it since it happened. And probably annoy people to death by going, "Guess what color it is today!" Although I think Mom's reaction was the best. I called her, told her to get on Skype, and then said, "Want to see something awesome?" To which she replied, "I'm afraid." [She reminded me this is pretty much how I announced my sprained wrist last semester too. I need to change my approach if I get another epic injury.]
Lastly, this photo is my leg on Monday.
None of that discoloration is birthmark. It's all bruise. I LOL'D.
None of that discoloration is birthmark. It's all bruise. I LOL'D.
Since then it's just gotten progressively yellower. Now it's yellow with a little purple around the edges. You can see where the leg of the thing hit me too. I kinda hope it scars, but I don't think it's going to anymore. Sad face. I know I'm twisted, but come on. That's an epic story. "You see this scar? Yeah, that's from when a fence attacked me. That's right. A fence."
Slideshow!
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