Our second day in Morocco happened to be New Year's Day. We woke up in the early afternoon (which is sometimes what happens when your previous night ends at 5 a.m.), fortified ourselves on couscous, then got in the car and drove to Spain.
We did not drive to "Spain" Spain, the country that is actually attached to Western Europe. We drove to a city on the northern coast of Morocco called Ceuta, one of two autonomous cities in Morocco that Spain claims as its last holdings there. Spain's relationship to Ceuta is like if you were renting a house, and then you moved out and the actual owners moved back in, but instead of leaving them alone you continued to refer to the house as your "summer home" and continued to hold parties in the backyard, left heavy rusting appliances on the lawn and had your mail and packages sent there. The way the home's owners would feel about you is very similar to the way Moroccans feel about the Spanish claims to Ceuta.
Arriving in Ceuta from Morocco is disorienting. It looks like Europe. It acts like Europe. You get your passport stamped, pull Euros out of the ATMs and speak Spanish to shop owners. When we arrived most businesses were closed for New Year's Day, and the only place we could find for dinner was the Chinese restaurant (side note to Jewish friends: I understand your Christmas Day loyalties now). Ordering Chinese food in Spanish in North Africa almost blew our minds.
The next morning we walked around the city, pausing to admire old Spanish churches and old military ramparts. We also visited the Museo Municipal de Ceuta, most of which was given over to elaborate displays of tiny figurines depicting various battles and regimes in history - the Trojans, Vikings, Egyptians. My favorite was the grand little display of the British Raj, featuring the memsahib and governor surveying the locals from atop an elephant. They reminded me of the brilliant Little People project. In both circumstances, you feel sympathy for these tiny characters who don't know that their power is outmatched by the world around them. It seems an apt metaphor for the people who are determined to preserve these European bastions in Northern Africa - carefully arranging a tiny little world that's completely out of context with the reality around them.
(PS: You can also see these photos on my
RedBubble gallery.)
0 Comments
Leave a Comment