CASABLANCA

Joelle McDonald
Mar 16
8 min read

Introduction

And our adventure begins! This year for spring break we are going to Morocco. Though no one needs any excuse to travel, we have a great one for this trip. The Kepplers, our long time family friends (slash Hannah and my elementary school principal), recently moved to Casablanca to work at an international school. We visited the Kepplers in Istanbul, Turkey in 2014 when they worked at a school there, so it follows that we have to visit them in Morocco too.

First Impressions

When we land in Morocco and step out of the airport, the sense of being in a new culture is immediate. We quickly find Mike, and he shepherds us across the busy airport road. Cars won’t stop for a pedestrian unless, we hope, murder is imminent, so you have to just commit. Watching out the window as we make our way to the Kepplers house, I gain my first glimpses into Morocco and Mike explains some of what we are seeing.

Construction is EVERYWHERE. New high rise apartment buildings are being stacked brick by brick even as buildings just nextdoor are crumbling. Morocco is preparing to host the Africa Cup at the end of this year and the World Cup in 2030, hence the building. Many wealthy Moroccan families also have second residences in the city.
Fields with shepherds and flocks of sheep seem to be randomly interspersed with high rises, construction, and shanties.
There is a sense of manicured appearances. Everything that looks nice was clearly manufactured very intentionally to be so, creating a sharp juxtaposition between the performance of wealth and real poverty.
Police operate at traffic stops. Everyone must slow, then once an officer gives you and your car a once over they decide for themselves if they will wave you forward or signal for you to stop for further interview. Mike said he initially got pulled over every time he went through a stop, but he has now apparently figured out how to seem cool in from of the police.

Along the way to their house, we stop by the Kepplers school for a peak at the outside. It is a Saturday, so he expects nobody to be there. When we pull up to the guard station however, there are three busses from another school. Even the guards didn’t know dozens of random families would be coming today, and they had to scramble to get to the gate.

When we get to the Kepplers we get to see Christa. The day is still young and we have jetlag to fight, so after just a moment to catch up and settle, we make an ambitious plan to see the sights of Casablanca today. Our flight to Morocco was a redeye and we got no sleep, so staying awake for the day is not trivial undertaking.

The Sites of Casablanca

First things first, lunch. We are visiting Morocco during Ramadan, the holy month in Islam where Muslims are expected to fast from “everything that satisfies the soul” from first light to sunset. That means in addition to not smoking or drinking alcohol (which is technically always forbidden), everyone must fast from food and water. As non-Muslims, that can make finding any restaurant during daylight hours challenging. Most close for the month. Hindus to the rescue! We drive to an Indian Restaurant in the city where we inadvertently order ourselves a feast, which gives us plenty of time to catch up in earnest between bites.

Our long lunch leaves us in a bit of a rush to get to Hassan II Mosque. This is Casablanca's prized mosque: third largest in the world and the only mosque in Morocco non-muslims are permitted to enter. This restriction is interesting to me, having visited so many mosques in other countries, and I appreciated the allowances made so we could visit this particularly special one.

The mosque was completed in the 1990s and towers upon the edge of the Atlantic. It was built where the sea used to be and its enormous plaza was swimming pools pre-construction. We join a massive group just in time for the last tour of the day. Inside, the mosque’s ceilings hang far above us, and we take in just how ornately detailed every inch is. Our tour group is truly enormous because this is the only mosque in the country that can be visited and, due to Ramadan, only three sessions per day are led. All that to say, we missed quite a lot of what our guide said. Here are a few things that stuck with us:

As men and women are not allowed to pray together, there are two women's balconies with high screens above either side of the mosque.
The ceiling of the mosque actually opens to the stars. A rectangle in the center of the roof is built to retract and takes a few minutes to open what it is retracted.
Almost everything inside the mosque is from Morocco and made by Moroccans with the exception of chandeliers from Venice and the design for the retractable roof, made by a German.
Below the mosque's main floor is a huge stone basement with beautiful fountains across the floor and walls. In Islam you must follow a prescribed washing protocol before prayer and this room is designed for that. The fountains are turned off now, as it is not permitted to waste water in Islam, but they are turned on for special occasions. Otherwise, there are small faucets along the walls for use.

After our tour, we rejoin with the Kepplers. They found parking at a nearby mall, which we walk toward along the ocean. It is impressive to watch waves crash into the foundation the enormous mosque is built upon.

The mall is filled with people when we get there. We see many families at the food court where kids were happily devouring their fast food as their parents supervised empty stomached. Fasting does not begin until puberty. What struck me most in the mall was the Mall-Santa like Ramadan display. Ramadan is a time for giving charity, but not necessarily gifts, so I am truly fascinated to know the role of Ramadan-Not-Santa.

We drove next to the Old City of Casablanca. Here we find a street lined with small shops and stalls on either side. It's the kind of street one may imagine when thinking about this corner of the world. It's full of activity. Vendors call out with a sales pitch the moment you glance at their shop. The sidewalks are so full of trinkets and clothes for sale everyone walks in the street. Cars and motorbikes slowly crawl through the shoppers when they need to pass. We visit a square devoted entirely to olives, heaps of them in all direction. Big plastic barrels of brining olives line the walls and the aisles outside each stall. We sample a few, impressed by how different the flavor of each variety and seller can be. We also visit a pottery shop because Christa didn't buy a mug a while ago and has been wishing she had since. Today she made it right. My mom, Hannah, and I hold off figuring we will buy our pottery in Fes, where the store's pottery comes from. Spoiler: this was the best pottery of the trip and my mom has regretted not getting a mug here since. Bummer.

The real highlight of our market visit is Patisserie Bennis Habous. This tiny, hole-in-the-wall bakery is perhaps the crown jewel of Casablanca. The tiny store is filled with people in a constant state of squeezing past one another. Since it is Ramadan, the store is particularly busy selling the most traditional Ramadan sweet, chekabia. We squeeze into the small room where an employee will walk the trays with you and add whatever you point out to your box. We unintentionally get just about a few of everything. Everything looks too good not to try. The experience only gets better after we leave the shop and notice just across the alley there is an open door to a dark room. We inspect further and realize this is the baking room. Everything is baked in a wood-fired oven and prepared on the large slab table in the middle of the room. It lends a deeper appreciation for the treats we are about to indulge in.

Dinner

Feeling satisfied with our market outing, we next go to the Casablanca lighthouse and watch the sun descend toward the sea before heading toward our dinner reservation. We arrive early and our reservation is right by the Rick's Cafe replica from the movie Casablanca, so we walk toward the cafe. In the plaza nearby, a lively game of soccer is going on. We walked past it on our way to Rick's Cafe and drew a lot of attention as the only females in sight. Soccer is definitely a boys club here. A minute later, we join gaggles of tourists who have just streamed off their tour bus in the wait to get inside Rick's Cafe. A bouncer stands at the door and makes us stand in the line of shame for people without reservations. We wait until everyone with a reservation is inside (and has gotten 100 pictures of themselves in dramatic poses outside). While we wait, we people watch. The best thing we saw by far was a little girl on roller skates getting pulled behind her friend's bike to be dropped off at her door. The girl with the bike then rode off to her own house. Innovative and adorable. Eventually we get in and have about 15 minutes to sit at the bar and soak up the ambiance before making our way to our actual dinner reservation.

Our restaurant for the evening is Dar Data, a fancy restaurant inside a riad that usually features belly dancers and live music along with delicious food. We were warned in advance that because it is Ramadan there is a fixed menu. It is exciting not to know quite what we will be eating tonight. When we arrive, the restaurant is bustling. Every table is full and lively and music echos through the riad. No belly dancers tonight due to Ramadan, but there is so much to take in that their absence doesn't detract in the least.

Before we even had our first course, our table was laden with dates, eggs, juice, bisara (like hummus), baghrir (savory pancakes), briwat (similar to samosa), olives, chekabia (a sweet pastry), harsha (corn cakes), sellou (paste of nuts and seeds). That alone was a feast, and it was only the beginning. We had hardly made a dent before big, steaming bowls of harira, a soup commonly used to breakfast, arrived in front of us. Next came tagine, a Moroccan staple, and saffa (rice-like disk). Fitting each dish on the table was like a game of tetris. Every time a waiter walked by I flinched, fearing another dish to fill my already full-to-bursting stomach. Indeed, more came with dessert: sliced fruits, tiny tiramisu, and another small dish I can't remember. I felt like I was back in India, where I left almost every meal unbelieving of how much I just put in my stomach.

Day Two

After a full and eventful day yesterday, coupled with barely sleeping on our redeye to Morocco, today we sleep in and take a much slower pace. We walk 2.5 miles along the shore near the Kepplers' house and back. The water here is a surf spot, and the beach seems to be a popular spot for stray dogs. When we get back, Christa makes a yummy pasta dish for lunch, and we eat on their rooftop deck. The view is beautiful and we all enjoy the warm breezy sunshine. Everyone takes a siesta. It is a restful day to be with far away friends. Just before sunset, Hannah and I go to the beach so I can take a water sample from the ocean and test it for microplastics. I have been developing a compact microplastic testing kit for my grad school practicum, and I am putting it to the test now. Our evening ends with dinner and teaching the Kepplers to play Ronda, a Moroccan card game my mom learned and taught us before we came.

In the morning, the Kepplers will be back to work, and we will get picked up to begin our guided tour of Morocco. It was a short-but-sweet visit, and we are so glad the Kepplers galvanized our trip to Morocco.