The Wolf of Wall Street reviewed

Image courtesy of Paramount Pictures

     I have never seen a movie as disdainful as The Wolf of Wall Street.  With that out of the way, make no mistake that this movie shines for its entire 180 minute running time.  The manner in which Scorsese treats Jordan Belfort's life of excess is nothing short of masterful.  Rarely do I find myself cheering for the antihero in a film the way I was here.

     Let me be up front for any of you considering seeing this movie.  If you have any strong sensibilities surrounding good, clean, family-oriented values and are built of a strong moral fiber, then DO NOT go see The Wolf of Wall Street.  This movie will offend you, disgust you, and make you feel filthy inside.  Also, this movie is rated 'R' and it is NOT ACCEPTABLE to take anyone under the age of 18 to see this.  Sure, lots of times you hear or see or know some 14-17 year olds going to 'R' movies, and maybe sometimes that is okay depending on what they are.  THIS IS NOT ONE OF THOSE TIMES.  Be a responsible parent.  Teens aren't Scorsese's audience for this movie anyhow.

     So, who is the audience then?  Well, I'd wager anyone not easily offended--which means you are okay with an excessive amount of vulgarity, drug use, nudity, sex, more drug use, more nudity, more vulgarity, cheering for thieves, liars, and cheaters, and laughing at other's misfortune.  I think if you lived through the 70's and 80's and/or can relate to the excess of the yuppie lifestyle, if you are familiar with Gordon Gecko, Kenneth Lay, Jeffrey Skilling, or have watched Boiler Room (2000), that probably works, too.

     On to the good stuff (I will try to limit spoilers): Cameos/ small parts by Rob Reiner, Matthew McConaughey, Jon Favreau, Joanna Lumley (Absolutely Fabulous), Jean Dujardin (The Artist), and an insanely slimmed-down Ethan Suplee all brought their remarkable talent to this game and Scorsese wove their roles into the film in a complimentary way within every scene's action and dialogue they appear.

     This movie is laugh-out-loud funny for probably close to two-thirds of the 180 minutes (again, as long as you are the intended audience).  Not only does DiCaprio and Hill work their accents through the movie, but deliver their lines with gusto.  Some of the physical humor they are called to perform is handled perfectly and the entire theater was in stitches.

     Strong writing, passionate acting, and Scorsese's direction allow the audience to experience the fiasco that was stockbroker Jordan Belfort's drug-fueled, hooker-filled, life-destroying ride for a decade on Wall Street.

     The score and soundtrack are all over the place as we progress through Belfort's years and transitional moments, never over-shadowing or forcing the scene or emotion on the audience, but offering a seamless addition to what we are witnessing on-screen.

Go see it.  Just remember what you are getting yourself into.  I'm giving it:     9.4 out of 10

The World's End reviewed

Image courtesy of Focus Features/ NBC Universal

     With The World's End hitting theaters yesterday, we are looking at the last of the Three Flavours Cornetto trilogy movies, with Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz being the first two released.  Just what sort of trilogy is this? one may ask.  By the power of Grayskull, it is a trilogy of Cornetto ice cream flavors.  Really.  A different flavor appeared in each of the three movies.

     Don't go looking for anything deeper that connects these movies together, other than the stellar cast that has continued to entertain us with their wit and antics for almost the past decade.  Does The World's End follow suit?  You bet it does, so let's dive right into it.

     Written by Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright and directed by Wright, The World's End has a story that, somehow, is more over the top than either of the ones that came before it.  Sure, a lot of us can relate to getting out of high school and expecting some great times that summer.  Those of us with a few more years of living even know what it is like in our mid-lives to want to get some of the old crew together for another chance to relive the so-called glory days.  And most of us are very familiar with the wonderful thought of dropping a pint... or 12... while pulling ourselves around a pub crawl.

     The manner in which Wright and Pegg tell the story is what really puts it out there, though. What we might consider "living", or moving ourselves through the usual rote, mundane daily chores and habits of our lives, is brought to vivid life by the very adolescent needs of the very grown-up Gary King (Pegg).

     As usual, I really try to steer away from spoilers, but the gist of the plot surrounds Gary wrangling up his four best buddies from high school days and going out for a pub crawl roughly 20 years later.  Along the way, we meet up with Argus Filch (not really, but it is David Bradley playing a crotchety old man.  Wait, that sounds just like Walder Frey from Game of Thrones.  But we won't typecast him.) and Rosamund Pike (Jack Reacher, Die Another Day) playing the sister of one of our motley bunch.

     There is a constant battle going against King, because he just won't grow up and be what everyone else thinks he should be.  They are all just one great big hilarious mess, and that about sums up Wright and Pegg's portrait of humanity in this movie:  a mess.  Imperfect.  Contradictory.  Imbalanced.  And most importantly, possessing a vitality that demonstrates why the human race plans on sticking around this Spaceship Earth for quite some time to follow.

     A great soundtrack is woven through the movie and compliments every scene the songs accompany.  I thought the Doors Alabama Song (Whiskey Jar) was a standout inclusion, as was Silver Bullet's 20 Seconds to Comply.  I'm Free by the Soup Dragons makes an entertaining on-going joke throughout, as well.

     The humor is masterfully woven into the dialogue with minimal slapstick, and I'm afraid I probably missed even more to laugh at, as it was coming from all directions.  At the heart of all of this humor is really the dynamic between Simon Pegg and Nick Frost, though.  Their ability to play off each other has been instrumental in the success of all three Edgar Wright films, and their own movie Paul.  In The World's End, this camaraderie is extended to the likes of Martin Freeman (The Hobbit, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy), Eddie Marsan (Jack the Giant Slayer, Sherlock Holmes), and Paddy Considine (Hot Fuzz, The Bourne Ultimatum).  Freeman is far more Arthur Dent than Bilbo Baggins here.  I'm not used to seeing Marsan in a comedic role and I think he really gives one of the better performances.  Considine gets a far bigger role than just being one of the Andys in this one.

     As the premise was laid out, I felt the first five to ten minutes were slightly slower than I was anticipating, but after that, there was no stopping them.  In retrospect, Hot Fuzz and Shaun of the Dead took a few moments at the very start to establish the ideas, also.

     If I am going to pick a favorite, it is probably Hot Fuzz, closely followed by The World's End and Shaun of the Dead (they are within hundredths of a point).  If you enjoy a cleverly written movie with drinking and great friendships on display, and an inclusion of action and some crazy antics, then look no further and go out to see The World's End.  I'm glad I did.  I'm giving it:       8.8 out of 10

 

Elysium reviewed

Image courtesy of TriStar Pictures

     I was a big fan of Neill Blomkamp’s District 9.  So was Peter Jackson (producer), so I feel I’m in decent, qualified company.  His gritty, realistic sci-fi cinematography combined with usually seamless and immersive CGI/ special effects makes for a fantastic medium to deliver his vision of the story.  Complimenting the visuals is the depth of humanity that Blomkamp manages to convey in the characters he is putting into these scenes.  Whether it is Sharlto Copley’s Wickus Van De Merwe in District 9 or Matt Damon’s Max in Elysium, we are watching real people in challenging, emotionally-charged interactions throughout the movie.

     There is no time wasted prior to establishing the parallels of the modern day divide between the haves and the have-nots, and Blomkamp’s desolate Earth packed with the 99% while the 1% crowd enjoys all the perks of the space station Elysium, which includes the sort of all-encompassing healthcare that can do anything for you.  Provided you are part of the 1%.

     Elysium security is headed up by Jessica Delacourt (Jodi Foster), carrying a slightly maniacal, do-what-it-takes attitude wherever she goes—butting heads with the president, issuing covert commands, and ultimately looking out for no one but herself.  I really felt her character could have just made Jack Nicholson’s speech from A Few Good Men and it wouldn’t have seemed out of place.  You know the speech I mean… the one where Maverick couldn’t handle the truth.

     Far better, I thought, is Copley’s turn as Kruger.  A psychotic agent working for Delacourt stationed down on Earth.  Kruger’s mind breaks even further as the movie continues and Max (Damon) attempts to make a risky trip from Earth to Elysium.

     How does Max’s journey go? Well, you’ll just need to go watch Elysium if you want to know.  It is the movie, and I don’t like putting spoilers down.

     Other notable thoughts were that I neither liked nor disliked the score.  Ryan Amon now has one movie under his belt for Composer, so it will be interesting to see if he sticks in this genre, if Blomkamp uses him again, or if he goes a different direction entirely.

     It is always entertaining to see a “future” movie’s choice of product placement, too.  Apparently GMC is still around in the year 2154.  So is Homeland Security—I bet you are all feeling safer now.  Bugatti and Nissan find homes as well.  I know there were more, but I don’t remember them.  They didn’t feel out of place, though.  I was curious enough about this, so looked things up on Blomkamp’s choices.  Apparently there were some pretty conscious thoughts going into it, and I would suggest doing a search to see why he made his choices.

     I really enjoyed this movie, and like many sci-fi features, I would recommend catching it on the big screen.  I’m giving this:   8.5 out of 10

The Wolverine reviewed

    

Image courtesy of 20th Century Fox and Marvel

As a long-time fan of Logan/ Wolverine, I enjoyed watching the first outing of Hugh Jackman as the titular character in 2009’s X-Men Origins: Wolverine.  With that being said, I think they could have done a much better job for his origin or “first” story arc.  I feel character development surrounding the angst of Logan and his mutation was weak, Liev Schreiber played a passable Victor Creed, and Ryan Reynolds gave a decent enough performance as the maniac Deadpool to warrant discussion of a standalone movie for him.  Toss in some of Wolverine’s history working in Canada and his love interest (Silverfox, played by Lynn Collins), and now you have the makings of a busy, over-reaching mess.  Sure it was action packed, but is that what fans of Wolverine really wanted?  Probably not, as is evidenced by the strong support and turnout for Jackman’s new movie as Logan… The Wolverine.

     The Wolverine has successfully remedied most of the aforementioned issues that its predecessor suffered from.  Taking the general plot from Chris Claremont’s Wolverine mini-series (1982), we get a glimpse into Logan’s time he spent in Japan away from the X-Men.  While there, he learns to deal with his seeming immortality, manages to fall in love with someone other than Jean Grey (Mariko Yashida played by Tao Okamoto), and battles for his (and others) lives with the help of Yukio (Rila Fukushima) against the scheming Yashida clan.  Included in those battles are our first glimpse of Viper and the Silver Samurai (although I don’t think he is ever referenced as such).

     As far as I’m concerned, this is much closer to a character driven story than it is a comic book action flick.  There is plenty of action, but the interactions between Logan, Mariko, and Yukio are emotionally-driven, and I think that really helps tell this story.  When we get to an action sequence, it moves the story along between the characters as a useful accoutrement, rather than serving as nothing more than a simple, visual adrenaline rush .We learn more about who Logan really is in a few conversations—something that the first movie wasn’t really able to do in two hours.  Viper (Svetlana Khodchenkova) didn’t really work for me as a villain choice, and what director James Mangold (Walk the Line, 3:10 to Yuma) felt he needed to show us includes a little over-the-top comic book action (I think there was just no escaping a bit of that).  Marco Beltrami provides a great soundtrack blending classically Japanese compositions with well-placed, action-ready pieces that compliment the scene, rather than overpower and force the feeling on you.

     If a third Wolverine movie could be written and directed as well as The Wolverine, I would definitely not look at it as a “trilogy” money-grab.  It would be a welcome addition to the cinematic story of one of the more complex characters in the world of superheroes.  I’m giving this:     8.0 out of 10

The Lone Ranger reviewed

Image courtesy of Walt Disney Pictures

     If you've heard about The Lone Ranger at all, then it was probably nothing very flattering.  It's been critically panned by almost anyone who isn't your everyday movie-going audience.  You know.... the people that movies are actually made for.  The average person shelling out $8.38 for a ticket (National Association of Theater Owners) has enjoyed it for the most part.

     That's me, in case you haven't noticed from my past reviews.  Just an average movie-going guy, shelling out his cash and possibly sneaking in a box of $1 candy from Walmart.  So, here's what I thought of it:  It was a fun movie to watch, probably due to the amount of levity that followed John Reid, a.k.a. the Lone Ranger (played by Armie Hammer) and Tonto (played by Johnny Depp and brought to his usual levels of character eccentricity) throughout Texas.

     I'll be upfront about the amount of levity.  This movie felt all over the place, seeming to struggle to find its own identity.  It was a western, an action and adventure, a comedy, a little romance, and even a little mystery.  All rolled into one movie.  This didn't really bother me.  There was enough to like about all the different parts to find it enjoyable.  I do think Gore Verbinski should have spent a little more directorial effort in focusing on a more singular identity.  In that regard, I feel he had a much stronger performance in how he shot Pirates of the Caribbean.

     I remember watching Lone Ranger reruns in the eighties on some independent TV station (I imagine) out of Rockford, probably with my brother Matt and Dad; these are mostly just bits and pieces of memory, like him using silver bullets, never ever taking the mask off, going after the bad guy Cavendish, and not being in the business of killing anyone-- just bringing justice to their crimes.  The 2013 version stays fairly true to all of that.

     You'll want to keep in mind that like Man of Steel, this too is an origin story.  From the arrival of John Reid into Texas, through the events that spark him to don the mask, to his friendship with Tonto, we see it all again for the first time.

     I found some of the more enjoyable acting to come out of William Fichtner (Elysium, Prison Break, Entourage) and Tom Wilkinson (The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, Michael Clayton).  As the villains of our story, I thought they brought a some variety to their characters that fleshed them out more than the Lone Ranger.

     Hans Zimmer once again provides a movie with a well-composed score, and makes sure to tuck in Rossini's William Tell Overture, a Lone Ranger staple.

     I think it all works.  Will it continue to work?  Will this become a new, big Disney franchise?  Probably not, as the numbers at the box office have spoken.  Focus will be shifted to Pirates of the Caribbean 5 (I don't think there is a title yet) and The Lone Ranger will be left (ironically) alone, with the studio scratching their heads as to what went wrong.  I'm glad I saw it in the theater.  I'm giving it:      7 out of 10

Monster's University reviewed

Image courtesy of Disney•Pixar

It was easy to think that Pixar movies were incapable of being poorly created or received.  For 15 years they had put out nothing but fantastic, story-driven movies that were visually amazing and reached the audience on emotional levels.

And then the summer of 2011 was upon us and Cars 2 hit the theaters, proving to be something of a bust, running Pixar right off the track. What a terrible pun. I'm sorry.  So what did Disney•Pixar do?

They released Brave.  Which bounced the company right back into the sort of success they have always been known for.

But wait, you say.  I thought this was a Monster's University review.  All you've done is rehashed stuff we already knew.

I'm getting there.

Monster's University is a great movie.  There you go.  That makes two in a row now, so we'll call that a "new" streak going for Pixar.

In M.U., we are treated to a prequel of Monster's, Inc.  That gave the creative team some room to play with in terms of character development and storyline.  How did our main characters get to be where we last saw them?  What challenges did they have?  Where was John Ratzenberger's voice going to pop up?  Will Randy Newman's songs sound any different than they do in all the other Pixar movies he's done?  The answers to the last two questions are 1.  He does do a voice and 2.  No. Randy Newman's songs always sound the same anytime and everywhere.  Moving on...

Mike Wazowski and James "Sulley" Sullivan are a fantastic duo.  Like a modern day "odd couple", we are treated to the comedy that ensues from the battle between obsessive Mike and carefree Sulley as they embark on their journey through college together.

We glimpse at the movie's opening what drives Mike in his youth, and Sulley makes his first appearance in an unforgettable manner.

M.U. is filled with twists and turns for our pair of future Scare Floor heroes, as they team up with the less-than-cool monsters in a sprawling campus battle of scares and wits against the very system itself.  The storytelling in M.U. really gets you feeling as if you are a part of all the antics going on and provides an immersion in the environment amongst the characters that a lot of comedy and action movies frequently fail to deliver on.

With peeks at many characters' beginnings and changes, M.U. fills the audience in with more of the enjoyment we received in Monstropolis the first time around with Pixar.  On top of the obvious things we are shown in the movie, there are probably plenty of "Easter eggs" tossed in, as well.  Unfortunately, I was too engrossed in the story and characters to watch for stuff on my first viewing, so I can't tell you anything to look for.  There is a very short segment after the credits are finished if you want to stick around for it.

If you were a fan of Monster's, Inc. then I'm confident in saying you will really like Monster's University, too.  It's theater worthy.  Especially if you have children.
I'm giving this:        7.5 out of 10

Man of Steel reviewed

Image copyright Warner Brothers Entertainment

     Man of Steel is not your grandfather's Superman.  Nor was it my Superman.  Zach Snyder, under the production leadership of Christopher Nolan, has given audiences a son of Krypton with more modern appeal and action than probably any of the previous Superman movies combined.
     I went into Man of Steel with the expectation that this was a true reboot, unlike the 2006 Superman Returns.  I suggest doing the same if you go see it.  It's best to understand you are not going to be watching Richard Donner directing Christopher Reeve.  Man of Steel does to Superman what Batman Begins did for Batman.  It gives us characters we've grown up with and puts them into a darker, grittier today.  This isn't the age of world wars, nuclear families, peace & love.  We live in an era of globalization, diminishing privacy, and deep social debates of rights and wrongs with no end in sight.  The comic book version Superman keeps up with this.  Why shouldn't the movie version?

     So who were these new faces underneath such established characters?

     I had to look through IMDB to see who Henry Cavill was.  I have not seen anything he has been in.  Not even Immortals, which appears to be about the only one that would have held any interest.  Did this matter?
     Not in the least.  Coming in at about 3" shorter than Christopher Reeve, Cavill's stature as Superman in the movie was not measured by height, but by the maturity (he's 4 years older than Reeve was at the time), physique, and boyish-charm he brings to the screen.  Clark Kent is put through a range of emotions for much of the movie, and Cavill covers them all.  Like Reeve, he carries an air of goodness about him, sort of a benevolent caretaker for us on Earth.  We learn who he is, where he came from, and what we can expect from someone with the strength and power that Superman possesses.

     You know who else I had to look up?  Michael Shannon, who plays General Zod.  With a much more extensive background than Cavill, I feel like I should have known who he is.  After going through the IMDB list, the only thing I *might* have seen him in were the two episodes of Early Edition he apparently was in.  And that's just because I think I watched most of Early Edition.
     Anyhow, Michael Shannon was phenomenal.  His portrayal of Zod cuts right to the heart of the tenuous relationship between the House of El (Superman's family) and himself.  His battle to fulfill his role and preserve a way of life at any cost is not so different from extremists in the world today.  Evil terrorists to some, heroes in their own way to their followers.  The energy Shannon brings to this role is simply electrifying.

     I can at least say I have seen Amy Adams in some other movies.  How was her Lois Lane?  Well, she doesn't smoke, so +1 for that.  She does seem to get into the same sort of stupid messes that Lois always gets into.  Every time you turn around, Superman is saving her.  But she does bring the same grit and determination that the intrepid reporter always seems to have, as evidenced by her first scene in the movie.  Does the romance between Superman and Lois seem as natural as in the original movie?  Probably not, but not to say it isn't blossoming.  I think what keeps it more at bay isn't the lack of on-screen chemistry between Cavill and Adams, but how they have made Cavill's Superman feel far more like the all-powerful alien being he is, than Reeve's ever felt.

     Some quick blurbs on the only others I feel like mentioning:

     Russell Crowe's version of Jor-El is much cooler than what Marlon Brando had to work with.  They gave him a deeper, more meaningful character and allowed much more screen time to advance the plot.  It wasn't self-serving Russell Crowe time--it was important, story driven Jor-El time.  He clearly cares about his son.  Just as much as...

     Kevin Costner and Diane Lane, who took over the reigns as Jonathan and Martha Kent, respectively.  They gave some emotional performances that made you feel their own difficulty in what it was like trying to raise someone as special as Clark.  Their support of their son in who he is never wavers and they share it well with the audience.

     I don't want to get into spoilers and specifics.  I will say that Man of Steel moves at a very quick pace, with plenty of action.  Clark Kent's backstory is tucked into relevant parts as flashbacks and the whole thing is fairly seamless.  Hans Zimmer composed the score for this, and once again hits another homerun with his choices throughout every scene.

     This is the sort of movie that is worth seeing in the theater.  I'm talking splurge on full-price tickets if you can't do a matinee.  I give this:          8.1 out of 10

Rotten Tomatoes is a stupid website, and I still use it.

     I enjoy going to the movies, and I enjoy writing in this blog.  Except for when I travel, I probably do the former far more than the latter.  The other day after watching This Is The End, I wrote a review of it.  Maybe some of you read it, some of you didn't.  Some who did read it didn't care what I had to write.  Some who didn't read it... well, you are missing out on a chance to ridicule my blogging skills.  I will fill both camps in on a little secret-- I enjoyed writing the review.

So, that is my new thing.  I hope I keep up with it.  One a week--that's my goal.  I'm going to throw in some quick research I've just done that prompted this blog, though.

I think Rotten Tomatoes (http://www.rottentomatoes.com) is a stupid website.  And yes, I still use it anyhow.

I've been familiar with RT for probably a decade (they pretty much rolled it out in 2000, I think).  For an average movie, I usually do a quick look at the Tomatometer score from the critics and from the audience (average Joes like you or me that rate on there), maybe glance at the quick "consensus" write-up they have, and see how it stacks up to what else is opening or currently playing.

The scores don't sway me to see or not see a movie.  That's a choice I've already made prior to visiting RT.  What the scores do (for me, mind you) is give me an idea of whether most movie-going people (critics and audiences alike) cared for the movie or not, and gives me a ball-park idea on what I might expect out of it.

I had never given any thought to how this worked out behind-the-scenes at RT, though.  And now, I think some of these rotten" vs. "fresh" ideas could be skewed.  Do you think I was dumb for not thinking this before?  Yeah, I probably was.


My understanding of how a critic's review gets flagged as either "Fresh" or "Rotten" (after doing bad Google searches and finding nothing helpful) is as follows:

If the critic has marked it better than 60% in their own personal movie review (via their own newspaper, magazine, online source, website, etc.), and that critic's review is then used amongst the RT Reviews Counted, RT gives it a "Fresh" rating.  If it is marked below 60% on the critic's original review source, RT gives it a "Rotten" rating.  If there is no numerical/star/whatever score in the review to determine a percentage, then a "person" (yes, I am putting that in quotes) at RT reads the review and determines what to give it for the sake of including it in the Tomatometer score.

Simple math, then, provides the following:

If a movie is given 2.5 out of 4 stars or better, than it should be "Fresh".
If a movie is given 3 out of 5 stars or better, than it should be "Fresh".
Obviously (I hope) if a movie is given 6 out of 10 or better, than it should be "Fresh".

The number of Fresh reviews are then divided by the total reviews counted, and the average is the Tomatometer score.

It is really supposed to be that simple.  But if you take the time to sort through individual critic reviews (that is what prompted this whole thing for me) and look at the score they give, you will see RT marking 3/5 as "rotten", or even 2/4 as "fresh".

As I type this, Man of Steel has a score of 56%, making it "rotten"--however it has an average numerical rating from the critics of 6.3/10, making it (on average) "fresh".

By comparison, The Bling Ring has a score of 61%, making it "fresh"--however it has an average numerical rating from the critics of 6.4/10.  Clearly still fresh--but almost identical to Man of Steel, which is 5 points lower on the Tomatometer and "rotten".

This is not some stupid ratings conspiracy theory.  It is just plain stupid.  RT is putting a product out there that has, in my opinion, a simple thing wrong with it.  They are doing a poor job of aggregating the reviews.  Which just happens to be their main job.

Well, there you have it.  My long-winded rant on why I am now annoyed with RT.  More importantly, it's just a little bit of information on why I want to start doing reviews, too.  I think I will use a 10-point scale.

I am giving this post a 7.5/10 because it was angry.

This Is The End movie review

Image copyright Columbia Pictures

Let me put your mind at ease.  If you were worried that the funniest parts of This Is The End were shown in the various red band and green band trailers, they weren't.  Plenty of everything has been left for your viewing pleasure: humor, raunch, action, and ... horror?

Well, yeah.  Horror.  This is a film about "the end", after all.  There's demons, demonic possession, hellfire, brimstone, cheap scares.  The works.  And all of this is crafted through a pretty simple story.
Does this simple story work?  Well, these aren't high-end special effects in this movie, and it wasn't written by anyone that most moviegoers would argue is the greatest screenwriter of all time.

The bottom line is yes.  It works and for a great reason--the comedic talents of this group of guys.
The interplay of Rogen et al feels fresh from beginning to end.  Lines don't seem forced to make the jokes within and about each other.  They take things in stride and seem like what they are: rich, funny guys being put to the test of survival.  By comparison, my buddies and I would be poor guys dabbling in the mediocrity of funny being put to the test of survival.

I don't begrudge them for being richer though.  Especially because they seem to learn some valuable lessons about friendship and salvation as the movie continues.  Sort of.

Like any of their other movies, just know that hilarity ensues when they are put in a room together.  Is it their best work as individuals?  Definitely not.  But like chocolate cake, their whole turns out even better than their parts. **** out of 5

Kit Kat McFlurry, bonding, and the measurement of success

     Today's post is simply musings, leftover notes, and anything else that I forgot or may not have had a home these past two weeks.  I just know things don't quite feel complete here, so I wanted to do a wrap-up.

     I don't think we have Kit Kat McFlurrys here in the United States.  We should.  They are amazing.  If an opportunity arose to get one, we did.  DQ Blizzard ripoff?  Who cares.  Delicious Kit Kats and caramel all blended together in ice cream.  I wish I had one right now.

     I think learning some French would have served us better than learning Arabic/Moroccan Arabic for Casablanca.  It seemed everywhere we went in town, French would have sufficed just fine.  It wasn't easy trying to draw upon stuff from 25 years ago, but it was better than nothing.  The Arabic was definitely useful for the first stretch of the trip in Ifrane, Meknes, and Fes, though.  I'm glad Ahmed gave us some relevant words/ phrases to use.

     The gap between the wealthy and poor in Morocco is really large, but even worse is how large a percent those groups are.  The number of people who are "economically vulnerable" is close to 45%.  It is rampant in the rural areas we drove through.  Not only were we privileged with taking the trip, but we were a privileged group-- one that could, relatively speaking, purchase or do whatever we wanted to there.  The Morocco Mall is huge and filled with stores such as Gucci, Fendi, Louis Vuitton.  We could make purchases there.  According to Deyea, she thinks the average Moroccan comes to this mall to see it as a site.  Like we might go to a park or monument.  Not to actually shop there.  I guess it is built for the tourists and wealthy Moroccans, while everyone else sticks to shopping in the medinas.

     Have you ever seen a Yamazuki bike?  I hadn't until this trip.  Did I ever mention how rampant counterfeiting is in Morocco?  This thing had to be a joke.  Some hybrid Yamaha-Suzuki thing that looked like it wouldn't make it up the smallest of hills.  Whoever owned it probably thought they were cool?  I don't know.

     I don't know how the girls will get by without our little bus driver from Casablanca.  He really was pretty cool.  But they will miss him most--because he let them honk the horn.  Repeatedly.  I believe he had been trained like a Pavlovian dog to honk whenever the girls went "beep beep".  I imagine some of them are driving around Fort Wayne right now in their cars.  With a sad "beep beep" and honking their own horn.... which is probably not as widely accepted, nor expected here.  Unlike in Morocco, where it was the norm.  People honked everywhere for everything.  It was a cacophony of surprising honks and alerts that were directed at anyone and everyone.  It has been so quiet driving into school these past two days.

     I didn't know how close our group had gotten until yesterday afternoon.  I went into work at noon for a couple of hours before my class at 3pm.  As each minute ticked by, I found myself getting more eager to see the 7 others who were in my J401 class.  I couldn't wait for 3pm!  Oh, glorious Chronos, speed up these moments so I can see my brethren again.  And the time came, finally.  Ashley, Rodrigo, Lynsey, Kelsey, Kyle, Melissa, Seyoung... we were together again. We shared our own secret laughs and stories, our own glances at each other in the class, our own knowledge that we had been through many things together.  We all probably realized how close our group had gotten.  This didn't end there, as I spoke to Chadi in between classes and he said how weird it was to be eating breakfast alone.  He was right.  It felt weird to be doing anything alone.

Me.  Enjoying life.  Encouraging all of you to do the same, everyday, everywhere.

     We were going to ask Stephen his thoughts on all of this, but the bum didn't show up for class.  I think the rest of the group all managed to make it in.  Way to be odd man out, Stephen.

     This trip brought us closer together.  Through the bonding around a new, foreign culture.  Through the academic and functional work we did together there. Through the multiple benefits of travel and experience.  I think, for the most part, it was an absolute success.  Even if everything wasn't perfect, the pieces that were, counted for much, much more than the trivial misses.

This is what traveling--whether alone, with friends, or with family (or a combination of those)-- can do for you...me...anyone.

So, if I can ask you to do something, it is this:

Please. Get out. Find the money and the time. See the United States. See all the things that people who come to our country attempt to see and experience our different cultures. From Southern hospitality to the West coast lifestyle. From the Amish to New England Yankees.

And once that's done, look outside the United States. You'll be ready to leave your comfort zone and appreciate everything a lot more. You'll almost guarantee you won't come across as an obnoxious, ignorant American to the rest of our world. Nobody wants that.  Hopefully we've got a few less of us now after this trip.

Remember, be good.  And if you can't be good, be good at it.

Where's your other hand? Between two pillows.

I couldn't leave the last day out, so here it is.

     This was it.  The beginning of the end of the beginning.  The trip is at a close, but for some, the travel bug will have bitten them, so this is really just a start for those looking to expand their cultural awareness.  They're ready to turn around and head right out again.  For others, it is an affirmation of what they always knew.  They like the things they like.  It may be local, or regional, or national... but it is familiar.  It is known.  They'll take their adventure much further down the road.
But we all still need to make it through today, just to get back to Fort Wayne.  That route entails a dash of some planes, trains, and automobiles.  Well, buses actually.

     Did I mention we had to be up for breakfast at 6am?  This made the 7 or 7:30am breakfasts look like a cake-walk.  The good news eating that early was that we had put a cushion of 15 minutes in to make our bus, and for once we made it on time.  A rarity.  At least we already had our boarding passes, no luggage to check (it was already set to go to the States), and nice weather.  This bus driver proved a little more prepared for our group.  For instance, he showed up and waited for us with a nice large bus to accommodate everyone without packing us and our fragile items in like sardines.

     Now, Rodrigo's only job the entire trip was to take charge in Madrid with his mastery of the Spanish language.  The downfall here was that this "mastery" in no way proved useful in attempting to talk to the rest of us.  Needless to say, after repeating some things, pointing, and grunting (I'm sure he was half asleep still), he got us to the train to get us to our gate.  Fine job there, Fes.


We ventured on planes, trains, and automobiles buses. And we triumphed.

     American Airlines "security" agents (really--it's in quotes because this concept is a joke) proceeded to ask us the old worthless questions that we here in the US gave up on asking years ago.  Did you pack these bags yourself?  Have they been with you?  Who purchased things in the bags?

I mean, really?  Who is going to answer in any negative manner to these questions?  Only the stupidest people out there, no matter their intentions.  No further x-rays.  No random searches.  Were we supposed to feel safe?  Actually, I did, because I am never really worried about this when I fly.  But I suppose some people may have gotten nervous.  I don't know.  It was just a waste of time.

     We had a great flight into JFK.  Got in early, which just meant our 4 hour layover was more closer to 5 hours.  We found a McDonald's serving sandwiches which were both familiar and expensive, so we knew we were back in the States.  That and the fact that many people didn't speak English and people were very rude also helped to point out we were back in the States.

Now I'm wondering why we even came back.  Probably because we are out of funds for the trip.  I suggested to Tom to play the drum he got for his buddy (it had made the trip in great shape so far) down in the corridor between terminals to try to solicit some money for us.  We had a lot of baseball hats that could be filled up with change.

     Finally, 4:50pm rolled around and the boarding process started.  We were on.  We were excited.  We all had a stranger sitting between us and our classmate on both sides of the plane (it went from being empty to being full).  Yup, here it is-- 5:20pm.  We were ready to go.

We went nowhere.  Nowhere.  They tossed some pathetic announcement that it would be super fast for a quick de-icing, and we would be on our way.  By 6pm, we had heard nothing else and kept sitting there.  By 6:20pm, we moved back from the gate with no de-icing having been done.  We at least got an announcement saying it was time to go.  Yeah, right.  By 6:45pm, we were sitting in the middle of the tarmac finally getting de-iced.  And by the time we finally wheeled into position for takeoff?  7:01pm.

An hour and 51 minutes after our takeoff time.  How did we fill that time?  Well, I read, stared around, read, stared around some more.  How bad could this boredom be?  And the others?  Well some napped, some listened to music or movies, some talked.  Like Ashley, who should now be known as Chatty McChatty. She talked poor Rodrigo's ear off and seemed to be full of giggles.  For like the entire 1:51.  Pretty impressive actually.

     The flight itself had a little chop to it, but we remained aloft.  And it took about 2 hours and 9 minutes according to the lying pilot we had.  By the time we touched down, we got the great news that there was a plane in our gate that was being de-iced, so we had no where to go.  Are you kidding me?  It took 30 minutes from touchdown to get off the plane.  Nothing like spending more time on the ground than we did in the air.

     So, instead of it being 7:20pm, it is more like 9pm.  And we really, really just want to get on the coach and get to Fort Wayne.  Our simple hope is that we will actually have a bus ready when we get our luggage.  That is the sort of hope that is the worst.  Simple.  Because things can never be that simple on a trip like this.  There was no bus ready.

But it would be there soon.  5 minutes.  Sha, right.  And monkeys might fly out of my butt.  Five minutes turned into 15, while we stood outside freezing in the wind.  Our awesome bus driver had never  been to O'hare and shot right past us out in a drive-lane, rather than inside his pick-up lane.  But he eventually got there.  At least the bus was nice.  Actually, Bob the Bus Driver (really.  Bob.) was nice, too.

There are no city streets to be driven on between O'hare terminals and Fort Wayne.  At all.  None.  This is important to know.

Remember two seconds ago when I mentioned the bus driver had never been to O'hare?  Well, we no sooner left the terminal and were on I-190 coming out of the airport.  This was perfect.  Here we go.

No.  Wait.  We are on a ramp going slower.  And slower.  Slower.  Why?  We got onto a city street.  Are you kidding me?  I am so awake and alert now because I have no idea what he is doing, we all have no patience, and most of the others are in a stupor.  I watched him drive around a block and get back to I-90.  Clearly, a wrong turn, but he figured it out.  Probably was using Apple Maps.

He makes his way to I-294 South.  This will work perfect, so I close my eyes for some much needed sleep, knowing that it would be hard to screw this up at this point.  There are giant signs saying "Indiana" everywhere you look on the road.

Bob the Bus Driver and his Apple Maps screwed up again.  Took us north of where we needed to be because he didn't jump onto I-80/90 when he had his chance.  What else could go wrong?  Fortunately, nothing.  He got us to Fort Wayne at about 2:20am Tuesday morning, 3/19/2013.

It was the end of our journey.  People were either too tired or too excited (or both) to think much about this.  I know I was.  I climbed in my car, got home, crawled into bed.  At that point, it was like I had never even left.  I was out.

Well, there you have it.  My trip to Morocco.  I am going to write one more post today or tomorrow with some general insights and some post-trip comments.  Read it.  Don't read it. Up to you.

    

Wrapping up Madrid and St. Patty's Day

The continuation of St. Patty's Day...
     When we last saw our weary travelers, they had just been abandoned by the little Spanish bus driver dude.  Fortunately, this was after he had shoved us and our luggage off the bus at the Crowne Plaza.  Little did we know what awaited us after this.

     Communication suffered a bit of a breakdown while we all headed to our rooms, with the plan to meet in the lobby at 4pm (30 minutes).  The original plan was to all board the bus and head into Madrid for some afternoon/ evening sightseeing.  Once Ahmed saw the bus driver was gone, he quickly called the travel agent in Fort Wayne, who allegedly was in contact with the bus operator.  Trouble was, the bus operator (again, allegedly) could not get the driver on the radio or phone.  So, we had no mode of transportation other than our own feet.  In Rodrigo's case, this was pretty worthless, since his own two feet carried him no more than a block at a time before he became lazy and sat down wherever he could.

     Ahmed offered a cab to anyone who wanted to still go out when he saw that the bus was a bust, however when he saw that everyone wanted to go and we would need some 4 or 5 cabs to get us around, the idea was shot-down.  This left us to entertain ourselves in the hotel.  Not a difficult prospect, since we had been entertaining each other for almost two weeks.  What made it harder was the disappointment that we were so close to everything Madrid had to offer, but weren't going to get there.

     Fortunately, delicious pizzas and drinks in the lobby bar helped quell the disappointment.  Even better, the first drinks were free due to a promotion they were running.  All one had to do was basically check-in via social media at their location and beer/wine/pop was on the house.  Some of us stayed down there, while others headed upstairs to play some cards before dinner.  The evening was relaxing, quiet, and rather uneventful-- all things I imagine it would not have been had we gone into town.

     Probably the best part of dinner was the smiling prawns in Tami and Ahmed's paella.  Tami laughed repeatedly everytime she looked down at them staring up at her.  The rest of our food was good, but not as personable as hers.  My cow was long dead.  Wait.  That reminds me of Lynsey's food.  Her cow was barely dead for the beef covered with mozerella she ordered-- or something like that.  All I know is, it was some mooing beef strips, redder than any meat I have had in years.

     After dinner, people were crashing early since we had to be up for breakfast at 6am.  This was it.  Only one morning left.  We hadn't lost anyone, yet.  Hopefully, tonight would not be our first.

The bus driver who took off

So it begins.  The awkward journey home.  Bliss to those who have been away from family for too long, for those who miss the United States, for thoese who are ready for familiarity.  Disappointment, or even discontent, to those of us who wanted to stay longer, to experience more, to drink in the gloriousness of travel and other cultures.

Have I waxed poetic enough?  I thought so.  I'll just get back to the heart of the matter.  Like Don Henley.

I was not ready to leave.  But we did.  Early.  I think Kyle was up at like 6:30am.  I managed to sleep until 7am, and we both made it to breakfast, grabbed our bags, and made the bus by 8am.

After having a great coach bus for a week, we were back to two little ones for this ride.  We appeared to put 12 people in one, and 6 of us rode in the other.  Which was nice for the six of us, since we weren't packed in like sardines.  The bus drivers were about normal, which means they managed to drive in reverse on city streets for some reason.  This is normal, really.  I think we drove in reverse almost every day of our trip.  Except yesterday.  You remember yesterday?  We took 2 hours to drive 2500 feet to the beach?  There was no need to go backwards there.  The entire dumb trip felt backwards yesterday.

But, we got to the airport safe and sound.  The importance of this is that Kathy (faculty chaperon) only had two blank incident reports.  In case we needed them.  Happy to say that we never needed them.  I'm sure she is more happy to say the same.  One more batch of airport great news is that no one had overweight bags they had to pay for.  A few people had to shuffle things.  Actually, no.  I think only Ahmed had to shuffle things.  That was because he went in the Business Class line for Iberia and annoyed the lady.  So when his bag was a few kilograms over, she made him change things around.  When we saw her again at our gate to get on the plane, I suggested he not talk to his new friend, for fear she would subject him to who knows what.

An easy flight from Casablanca to Madrid.  Less than 2 hours, and most of the crew tried to sneak a cat nap in, because of all our big plans in Madrid for the afternoon and night (we landed in Madrid at 2:30pm).

We made it through everything imaginable at the airport--passport control, customs, etc.-- in just a few minutes and our little bus driver dude was waiting at the exit with an IPFW sign for us.  Straight out of a movie, or something.  Pepe (Rodrigo) was there to speak his broken Spanglish with him, but turns out, he didn't need to hear anything from us.  He waved us to the bus.  Loaded us on, all the while pitching our fragile collectibles and bags into every conceivable empty space, and took us to the Crowne Plaza.

In just 30 minutes, we would be boarding the bus and headed into Madrid's city center.  Only that didn't happen.  Because the little bus driver dude took off the moment he threw us and our bags at the hotel.

You know what happened next?  To be honest, I am tired, so I am going to finish this story tomorrow.  Really.  I hope you all are enjoying St. Patrick's Day.  I did.

We're at the end, but it isn't over

     I haven't taken any time to stop and look back at the trip really.  It's all been spent looking forward to later the same day, or what we're doing the next day.  Today was simply a day to relax, with nothing we needed to worry about or fixate on.

This was a good thing because we had quite a journey this morning.  Two hours to make it to the coast.  Which was about 5 blocks from our hotel.  How could that have happened?  Well, it all started with a picnic.  This required food, which we didn't have.  Since we didn't have food, that required a trip to the grocery store.  The grocery store wasn't close, so that required a trip 45 minutes in the opposite direction of the coast.  Getting a feeling where this is going?

We made it to the grocery store.  Oh, and did I mention no one really wanted a picnic?  No one knows how that idea started, because no one was willing to speak up about it.  So here we are in Marjane (grocery store), and I finally speak up to let Ahmed know we don't want a picnic.  He probably wanted to kill us, since we had wandered around for 20 minutes at this point.  We'll probably spend our first class back at IPFW with him working on our communication.  After threatening us about leaving us in the grocery store (He didn't really.  I would have.), we headed back to the coast.

This is the sun setting.  If I was looking east and it looked like that, it would be the sun rising.

     I think we may have had some some travelers who had never been to the beach/ ocean, but I'm not sure.  They did have fun wading into the surf to their ankles--way too cold for swimming.  After some sand and shell collecting, it was off to grab a bite of lunch and rest up at the hotel for the afternoon.

It was nice being able to pack early and have everything ready to go before dinner.  We kept dinner simple and just went to Pizza Hut, actually.  This was a fantastic choice because it was close and simple.  I feel like something happened there that was blog worthy--because Chadi told me it was--but I can't for the life of me remember what it was.  I know Pedro (Rodrigo--in case you forgot) tried to trick me into rubbing the hair on my arm into a knot (didn't fall for it).  I don't think that was it though.  Maybe someone will jog my memory tomorrow.  Anyhow, we ate and headed back, and it it getting late.  And we leave tomorrow.  Can you believe it?

Before you know it, our time is at an end.

But it isn't over.  We still have Madrid on St. Patty's Day.  Coming tomorrow:  the quest to find an Irish beer.

Birthdays galore. And some surveys.

Ingredients
One breakfast
A dash of some shopping in the medina and cooperatives near it
One trip to the Jewish Club for lunch
About 80 surveys for our marketing research
About 160 product samples
A sprinkle of cookies and cakes from a local patisserie
Two (okay, three) birthday wishes
Zero headaches
Tons o' fun


Instructions
     Wake up in time to make it to breakfast.  This should have been an easy thing, but we got to sleep in an extra hour and a half until 9am.  So it wasn't.  Almost all of the food was gone.  No orange juice was left.  I had a knife but no fork.  There were locusts.  A flood.  I thought the world was ending.  But they had a yummy sweet croissant left, so things ended up okay.

     Breakfast being finished, we added some shopping into the mix again.  Today was some medina and a local artisan cooperative.  The co-op was nice because we got to see some retail prices for an idea of what we were bargaining for in the medina.  The medina was nice because we got some great prices on the last batch of gifts everyone wanted.

     Slowly blend in some Jewish Club lunch.  The significance of this was thus:  While the small Jewish population remained in Islamic Morocco, the hostilities between the peoples of the two religions gradually grew less.  Lunch was a symbolic gesture of the peacefulness between the two parties, and a chance for our class to partake in the new Morocco.  A country of tolerance, peacefulness, and integration of all people and religions.

     Let all of the students sit for about an hour relaxing and rising.  Like yeast.  Only we are cooler.  Once they reach a level of restfulness and readiness, unleash them with 80 marketing surveys on the unsuspecting public of Casablanca.  The trick to this step is to make sure that the unsuspecting public has decent English, or else the whole recipe could go wrong.  Fortunately, we met some capable individuals who helped us get this done in about 90 minutes.  We also passed out the bulk of all our samples, so there won't be anything left to take home.

     Now that things were under control, we needed to sift in the cookies and cakes from the bakery.  Why did we need cakes?  Birthday parties!  Why did we need cookies?  I don't know!  Neither do any of the guys.  We sat around outside yelling at local bums to leave us alone while the girls were inside.  It didn't work.  Meanwhile, the girls loaded up on boxes of good stuff to take home.

     The easy part of this recipe involved getting the night club at the hotel for our birthday celebration.  Josey, Lynsey, and Deyae all had birthdays these past 7 days, so we did one big celebration for them all here at the hotel in the night club.  We committed to 10 drinks, which was a joke since we had more than was worth counting while we danced the night away.  Poorly.

     The best way to finish this recipe is by making sure it is headache-free and adding tons o' fun to it.  This evening was.  Drinks, bad dancing, and birthday cake wrapped things up nicely.  I really loved the time we had.

Just hoping we can find a way to duplicate it.  In case we want seconds.

******  If I don't get tomorrow's blog posted in the next 24 hours, it will be due to packing and an early night to get ready to head out from Casablanca to Madrid on Sunday.  We'll see how it goes.  For now, let me see what sort of photo I can tuck in here.  Ma salama.

Sunset over the Atlantic.  From Rabat.  I need to edit some of these photos.  Ah, well.  Enjoy.

To Rabat ... and beyond

     Day 10...
11am ... An antiquated mode of  transportation known as a "bus" has brought us to the city of Rabat, capital of Morocco, home of the King of Morocco's palace.  Step one for us-- jump off the bus as it begins to come to a stop there, so most of us can run into the WC.  It is sweet relief.  Two hours after breakfast, and we don't know when we will get to go again.

     We hope to get a glimpse of the elusive Prince Moulay Rachid ben Hassan of Morocco.  A former student of Ahmed and Samir's, the hope is that he may want to say 'hi' and we would get a chance to meet him.  This does not come to pass, and we are deterred.  Other sites and locales await.

12pm... We arrive at the ruins of Chella, a necropolis of the Roman era.  Got some great documentation via notes and photos.  It probably dates back close to 1000 years, with numerous prehistoric creatures roaming free-- mostly storks and fat, lazy cats.  The bus hasn't broken down on us yet, so we board it again.

1pm... A visit to the tomb of the late King Hassan II and King Mohammed V are our next destination.  It is a magnificent structure adjacent to a large minaret and unfinished mosque.  Restlessness of our group begins to set in.  Hunger pains and concern for our ever-changing itinerary begin to weight heavy on our minds.  Without food soon, anarchy may reign.

2pm... We have met up with Abdellah Benlamhidi (legal council for MMA star Lee Murray--who was arrested for a $92 million bank heist in London) for lunch.  Delicious kabobs, tea, and dessert have quelled the uprising.  For now.

3:30pm... We walked around the block after lunch.  No one knows why.  Questions about the itinerary begin to surface again.  Will we make it back to Morocco?  No one knows.

4pm... Shopping in the Rabat medina.  We split into 3 groups.  Most of the guys get the group with Samir, myself included.  This is good, because Samir can communicate our haggling in the market.  Rodrigo, who we now refer to as Pedro, Pepe, or Fez, has gotten himself a great deal on a wood box.  He even kicks in a few Peruvian Soles because the artisan wanted every last coin that was in his wallet.  We all find something, actually.  Which is rare.

6pm... We all escape the medina.  But not before some of us used the bathroom there.  Which wasn't a western bathroom.  We went native, which here was nothing more than some porcelain surrounding a hole in ground.  And a faucet to wash your feet.  There was that there, too.

8pm...Communication has reached an impasse.  No matter how hard we try to establish consensus, we can't choose something for dinner.  We don't know what to do.  Tara takes charge and commandeers the bus in order to get answers out of us.  It mostly works, as we manage to only separate into two groups.

10pm... Drinks downstairs.  Work to be done.  Blogs to write.  More drinks to have.  It gets late.  Fun laughs with Ashley and Josey.  And I live again to make it to another day.

I'll leave you with a picture of me looking good.

Me.  Looking good.  I know that is no surprise.

The day we dressed up. For very little.

     This was to be one of our bigger days.  We had Proctor and Gamble marketing presentations this morning at their North Africa corporate offices here in Casablanca, a visit to see how they do product promotions at a local hamam (bath house), we were supposed to check out the Moroccan stock market, and then surveys were to be done on behalf of our two businesses at the mall, with dinner to follow.

     Pretty much none of that happened.  After an early breakfast, I ended up going with Lynsey and Samir ( one of our local educators helping out from Akhawayan University) to get her credit card from an ATM machine that ate it yesterday after the bank had closed.  Samir was very concerned about Lynsey getting her card.  Lynsey was mildly concerned about getting her card.  I wasn't too concerned about her card at all.  Many of us would have given her cash if she needed it.  But, Samir's concern won out.

     We ditched the first part of Proctor and Gamble to go back to the ATM at the building we spent yesterday afternoon in.  As we pulled away from the hotel to go do this, we got a great view of Hamid's car (another AUI educator), which had been side-swiped in the night, right in front of our hotel doors.  Samir informed us of how Hamid's car had been "hurt".  It was a mess-- he spent all day dealing with the insurance companies, actually.  Meanwhile, Lynsey, Samir, and I were off on the card chase.

     Which, mainly, proved fruitless.  Apparently, their version of Brinks handles ATMs, so we needed to wait for them to show up and get the card.  The bank couldn't do it.  After waiting about 90 minutes, we gave up, made some photocopies of her IDs, and headed to meet up with our group at the hamam.

     That was an adventure in and of itself.  Samir had obtained the nickname "James Bond" due to his manner of driving his car in the Casa traffic.  Traffic in Casa has little rhyme or reason.  They have lines striped on the streets for no apparent reason.  The traffic lights are just there to look nice and bring color to the town.  And everyone's horn works really well.  It has to, because they use it all of the time.  We encountered a taxi trying to cut in front of us, which Samir would have none of.  So, as we got closer and closer, neither wanted to back off.  Samir's passenger side mirror hit the driver's side mirror of the taxi (I was in the passenger seat watching this from about 8" away).  Neither driver liked this, but Samir got ahead.  And then proceeded to drive his car down the middle of both lanes.  Moroccan style, he said.  Lynsey and I had our jaws hanging open.  Mostly, mine was in laughter with 10% fear.  Pretty sure we won, though.  And to make sure, he turned right from the left lane on the road.  James Bond, indeed.  But we made it to the hamam.

     The hamam we went to was in some lower class part of town, apparently.  Honestly, it didn't look any different than most other parts of town.  I didn't want to tell them that, though.  We walked down the street to get to it a couple blocks.  Which were unpaved.  And it was raining.  Most everyone ended up with red mud all over their shoes and pants.  You may think this wouldn't be a problem, since we were headed to a bath house, anyhow.

Wrong.

     We were there in our suits--and not bathing or birthday--for our marketing efforts.  With mud all over.  But it didn't stop us from hiking into 110 degree saunas to watch naked old men (us guys) or naked old women (the girls) using Proctor and Gamble products, such as Head and Shoulders or Gillette.  Or some weird camera being run over a scalp to check for dander and bad stuff in the hair.  There aren't pictures.  You wouldn't want pictures.  My eyes are still burning from some images, and it was 12 hours ago.

     After the traumatic bath house, naked old dudes, and magnified images of dander on a stranger's scalp, we headed back to the hotel.

     Well, not me.  I went with Samir and Lynsey back to the ATM/bank to *finally* get her card.  And we did.  And it was glorious.  Thus ends the credit card portion of today.

Meanwhile, back at the secret meetings going on at the hotel....

     The plan for surveys at the mall was worked out and approved.  By 1/4 of the group.  But, whatever.  We would have a good, productive afternoon.

Wrong.

     We got to the mall, and didn't have all of the "permissions" we needed to set up shop and survey people.  So, the HR guy got all our stuff to look over and basicall told us to come back Friday to do it.  I think.  I have no idea.  The schedule still keeps changing.

So, we shopped around--it is a pretty nice mall-- the Morocco Mall.  I didn't get anything except some frozen yogurt samples that were free.  They quenched nothing.  Not a problem, because after the mall, we headed to Rick's Cafe.

     You remember Rick's Cafe?  Casablanca-the movie?  Yup.  Pretty cool place, and the food was amazing.  I think a few of the meats weren't cooked the way some folks expected, but overall, a pretty good reception of the place.  My filet was perfect.  I wish we could go there every night.  And guess what happened next?  We went back to the hotel.

To no wi-fi in our room again.  It is like they are using a hamster running on a wheel to generate the power to run a router here at this hotel.  But such are the perils of a 2nd world country.  So, I am in the lobby now.  I forgot to upload pictures of the day, so I have nothing there.

You'll need to simply use your imagination.  Imagine someone you dislike that is unattractive, but you tolerate them.  Like a nasty postman or someone from the IRS.  Now, imagine them naked.  Welcome to the hamam.  See you tomorrow.

That isn't a small sink in our bathroom

     Busy day today.  Met with the Moroccan Investment office, the American Chamber of Commerce here, and Coca-Cola.  Walked around the outside of Hassan II mosque.  Hit the grocery store for some necessities.  These being beer, wine, snacks, and cash.  And made sure our trips on the bus today were memorable.  But the day started differently.

Not a mini-sink.  Don't put your head near this.

What should have been a smooth morning getting ready turned into a learning experience for me.  We had this awesome stand-alone, mini-sink in the bathroom.  Right next to the tub.  I was all set to put my head into it and get all shampooed up.  After doing a little research, turns out this is, in fact, not a mini-sink.  It is a bidet.  To be honest, this is way better than a mini-sink.  Especially since our housekeeper didn't bother to put a new role of toilet paper on for us, and we didn't have a spare.  Good news is, Kyle swiped his 1/2 roll from the Inn in Ifrane, so we are covered in all sorts of ways here.  Ultimately, I'm glad that my head was not down in that bidet.  Besides that, we got ready and headed to a great breakfast at our restaurant in the hotel before heading to the Moroccan Investment office.

The Investment office was pretty great.  A nice presentation coupled with tea and cookies (very normal everywhere we go).  It is a one-stop shopping office.  They can have a foreign business up and running in five days, which is right on track with us here in the US.  To be honest, it isn't easy keeping awake for some of these early morning lectures.  It isn't the material, just the time, circumstance, etc.  I find myself fidgeting.  Some of the others do that too.  Ashley doesn't even try to do that.  At one point I looked over at her, and she blinked (I thought).  Only, it wasn't a blink.  The eyes closed and they stayed closed.  And they stayed closed.  And they stayed closed some more.  Then, her head fell forward and she jumped awake.  That was the last time she blinked that long.

After our morning shift, we walked around the outside of Hassan II mosque.  It is huge.  I thought Sultanahmet (Blue Mosque--Istanbul) was big.  This had to be bigger.  It was so windy out there, at one point we were almost blown like tumbleweeds across the square.  We'll be back here Friday.

After lunch we had great meetings with the American Chamber of Commerce (AmCham) and Coca-Cola.  They gave us some ideas about our companies we are researching for and for the most part, we all stayed awake.  But it was close a few times.  Stephen sat in front for AmCham and had some serious head-nodding going on.  But no snoring, at least.

Stopping into Marjane's (like a Walmart Supercenter) right next door was the only stop on the way to our hotel.  We all wanted cheaper means to grab some drinks and snacks.  This worked out great, except for the fact that Hotel Idou Anfa doesn't let in outside food and drinks (technically).  So, we did what any of us would do.  I had brought my bag (empty) and we purchased a gym-style bag and loaded them up.  I think I smuggled two 50lb bags through the front door of the hotel.  It wasn't as dramatic as I had it ramped up in my head.  Probably because these bags weren't loaded with cash from a big bank heist or something like that.

To wrap up the evening, I headed a group of six of us over to KFC for some late-night chicken strips.  Ahmed put me in charge.  Mistake?  Hopefully not.  I got us back and we were all a little fuller and happier for it.

Now, wrapping up the night watching Hot Fuzz with Kyle before we crash.  Another long day tomorrow.  Proctor and Gamble and surveys at the Morocco Mall.  Should be great!

*****Please note that the entire bidet portion of the story is fictionalized.  My head went nowhere near that thing, as I have been in love with the concept of the bidet for more than 20 years, and am well aware of it's magnificent purpose.  For those of you who were not familiar with the bidet, I hope this keeps you from making any embarrassing mistakes or experiencing anything traumatizing.  You've been warned.

The road to Casablanca

     In case you missed the warnings, this is my travels from Monday the 11th.  I should have written down the day.  Now, I have to think back on it.  Give me a moment to collect my thoughts.  While I do, here is a photo I took during our trip:

No fences. Restless farm animals.  Vehicles moving at 65 miles per hour.  You do the math.

     This was the sight for the 4 hours between Ifrane and Casablanca.  People here drive terrible.  Quick, reckless.  The livestock is everywhere.  Bottom line... I don't know how we didn't smear a cow across the toll road on our journey to Casa.  For that matter, I don't know how we didn't end up off the road driving through the fields.  After cruising through Rabat, we headed south and finally got into Casablanca.  Traffic is atrocious here.  Must have taken 50 minutes to go 10 miles.  I barely jest.

The hotel is pretty nice though.  Except for the obvious problem that we all noticed immediately.  The wi-fi is practically non-existent.  Not sure how business people get anything done.  Hopefully it will be fixed soon (sort of like I can see the future on this one, huh?).

We went out to the medina today just for a quick walk-around and some shopping.  Everyone found something they were looking for, I think.  The thing is, it wasn't everything they were looking for.  Not to worry.  Pretty sure there is more time for shopping on Friday and Saturday.  We headed to the coast after shopping.

I could not believe the waves breaking here.  Sort of looked like down at Bondi.  Half the crew wanted to get onto the beach and go in the water.  It got dark. It got cold.  It got late.  It got to be a bad idea, so that was skipped.  I'm sure we will head there again too before the week is out.  Thing is, these things that keep getting pushed back may be building up to the point where we never get them in.  Ah, well.  We will just have to wait and see.

I'm not sure where all the restaurants are around here, but I think it was 9pm before we had us something to eat.  Ended up at a French shop for some pretty tasty sandwiches.  I was glad they were still serving because I was starved and grumpy.  Food made all the difference, but it was once again late when we got back and it was going to be an early morning.

Today's side note:  My spelling.  I looked back over a lot of these posts this past year, and I see there are errors.  I have no intention of changing them.  That is more work than I care to do.  I see I have a spellcheck on this, so my plan is to start using it.  We'll see if it makes any diferance. difference.

Fes Fez The place with the little hats

     Today's visit to Fes really began with the trip preparations during breakfast.  I was not really prepared for detailed instructions at 8am, but Ahmed (Dr. Rachdi) jumped into a seat at our table with a game plan for the day.  Not just any game plan, but who would be on security detail.  Why would we need to take such precautions, you might ask?  Because we were going to a place that offers things like this:

Just another day in the Fes medina.  We passed on these guys, though.

     Actually, the Fes medina is an incredibly safe place overall, although you don't want to walk through it blindly waving money or valuables around, on the off chance there are unsavory characters about.  Because we were a large group, Ahmed laid out his idea.  We would be forming a group of guys around the women and travel up and down the 9500 alleys (sort of roads--but there are no cars) in our bunch.  Also, we would have a trustworthy, loyal guide who knew everything about the medina and Fes.  Now that we all knew the gameplan, we boarded the bus for another nauseating ride to Fes that lasted just over an hour.  It was time to meet the tour guide.  I never got his name.

     Getting his name would turn out to not be too important, because this trustworthy, loyal guide would turn out to be some shady local tour guide who attempted to take the poor lost American tourists (us) into stores he had probably already been getting kickbacks from to get us to buy there.  When he saw we weren't buying, he took off.  Yup.  Our tour guide ditched us completely.  Pretty sure Ahmed had some choice words for him, but my Moroccan Arabic is pretty rusty.  Pretty non-existent may be more like it.  This was not a problem, because this was Ahmed's hometown and he knew just where to take the girls to get kaftans.  And because the girls wanted to go, the guys went too.  This worked out just fine though, because the people that owned the store were the same people whose home we would be having lunch in.

After the kaftan shop, we formed back into our ranks.  This worked for all of five minutes (it never really worked better than that) because we had locals cutting through our group non-stop.  If the girls felt any safer, they wouldn't tell us.  Rodrigo admitted he would be the first to run away if there was a problem, anyhow.  None of them wanted him next to them.

     Lunch was another amazing meal that could have fed probably 50 people, even though there were about 21 of us.  Dish after dish after dish kept coming out and finally, when we couldn't eat anymore, the fruit showed up signaling the end of our lunch.

     The excitement of being a "guard" for the girls eventually wore off, when I realised the extent of my offering was nothing more than shooing-off toothless, 90-year-old beggar women.  I became very good at this, but I doubt yelling at homeless panhandlers in Arabic in Chicago will be very beneficial to keeping them away.  I guess it is one of those specialty skills I will file away.

     The evening ended with McFlurries for everyone.  Sometimes, there is just no avoiding McDonald's.  Especially when you are busing an hour home and it is the easiest place to stop at.

Tomorrow morning we are up early to head to Casablanca for the week.  I am not exactly ready to leave Ifrane, but it will be nice to get to our next base of operations.  Should mean a whole lot less time on the bus.  Wish us luck.