exploring rabat

le retour au maroc

It felt both comfortable and bizarre to return to Morocco yesterday after my Frisbee adventures. I felt disgusted when the taxi drivers at the airport tried to hassle us regarding the taxi ride into Casa. Thinking we were simply ignorant tourists, they tried pulling their usual stunts about not sharing taxis and charging ridiculous prices. After a long weekend at Paga and a sleepy flight back from Bologna, it would have been nice to simply have a quiet calm taxi ride to Tara’s.

We eventually reached an agreement and made it Tara’s where we immediately crashed. After getting the guys onto the train towards Marrakesh, I made it home to Rabat just in time for our conferencec all regarding our “Find Your Voice” Rabat conference. Since yesterday afternoon, I seem to be go go go, without even having time to respond to emails or unpack my bag.

American Gladiators

Aside from losing most of our matches, Paganello is not a tournament that disappoints.

Spanning four days on the white sand beaches of Rimini, Italy on the Adriatic Sea, Paga is the World Championship of Beach Ultimate. A tournament whose reputation precedes it in every way, it is as well known for the world-class level of play as for the ridiculous parties that start as soon as the games finish.

I was invited to play with a Chicago pick-up team, humorously named the American Gladiators. Composed of mostly beginners and having never played together, I felt like perhaps we didn’t deserve to be among some of the greatest players in the world, but we were determined to make the most of the weekend.

Our first two days were chilly but mostly sunny. However, luck did not shine our way on Sunday and cold wind and rain made playing miserable all day long. To make matters worse, while trying to warm up in the big circus tent, I placed my jacket next to the food-stand stove and while warming my hands, almost burned several holes in my new Patagonia fleece.

We finished playing Monday morning, stayed to watch some of the finals and then caught the train to Bologna with Matt and Kevin to catch our flight back to Casa.

Exhausted and cold, I was glad to return the pays du soleil. Who knows if I’ll ever make again to Paganello, but I’ll certainly keep fabulous memories from my first time.

PAGA PAGA PAGA: March 20-24

european escape...frisbee trips galore March 13-24

Two weeks in Spain, France and Italy, seeing friends, playing Frisbee and going with the flow of life, such were my most recent travels in Europe.

Thursday March 13 saw my early departure from Rabat to arrive in Casa for my flight to Barcelona. The flight was almost full, except for the two seats directly surrounding me. Therefore, my flight consisted of me stretching across all three seats and relaxing quite comfortably during the two hour flight. As I walked out of customs in Barcelona, there was Sebastian waiting for me. Perfect timing. Without a map or any real directions, we navigated the beautiful boulevards of Barcelona, with me marveling at the tranquil traffic and intricate architecture that certainly don’t exist in Morocco, until arriving at our friend Josephine’s apartment. Our evening consisted of tapas, ham, cheese, alcohol and Mexican food- all things that I was craving after so many months without.

It must have been something I ate because Friday morning I woke up throwing up, shaky body, hurting all over, with no appetite and not excited to play Frisbee… something was indeed wrong. The only time I moved was to walk to the car with Seb when we had to leave Josephine’s for the Costa Brava coast. I was still so sick when we arrived at the hotel that I drank some water and went straight to bed, without even saying hello to all the Ziggles players that were arriving.

Saturday dawned clear and cold as we headed out to the stony beach for our first game of the three day weekend. It’s hard to come together as a team when half of us are guest players, and we ended up losing all of our games on the first day. Despite the disappointing results, our team spirit was high and Saturday night started with happy hour at the Irish pub across from the beach and finished around 3am at the local night club VIP room. Needless to say Sunday morning was a bit rough, but I was feeling in good shape, and we started wining our games, which is always more fun than losing. By the end of the day, sleep was starting to sound like an excellent idea; however, it was the night of the costume party. We were going as punks. Personally, I went more as an Avril Lavigne punk, complete with tie, black eyeliner, fish net gloves and an attitude to match. The party was awesome, filled with teams disguised as pirates, pharaohs, hippies, and everything in between. After another late night, our one game on Monday went well and we finished the tournament in high spirits and proud to wear the Ziggles jersey.

I think, even if I play with other teams, I will always be a Ziggle at heart.

COSTA BRAVA

hahaha, i just saw a family of camels running down the road.

March 2nd in the Hilton Park

Jane and I decided to take advantage of the lovely day today and head to the Hilton park to bask in the sunshine. When we arrived, the tranquil park scene was illuminated in a golden wash of light.

As we settled onto our blanket with out books, we became a part of the Rockwellesque picture. Families picnicked in the shade, boys played soccer on the grass and everyone exuded a happy calm. It could have been any park in Chicago on a Sunday... except that most women wore veils and kids shouted to each other in Darija. After a few minutes, Jane and I got hot, so we took off our long sleeve shirts to reveal our tank tops beneath. Suddenly, our bare shoulders drew bold glances our way and twitters from kids playing ball next to our blanket. Not to mention whispered asides coming from passing men.

As we enjoyed the warm sunny calm, the small thought lingered- this is definitely not Chicago. Our white skin unwitting set us apart and while we were in the Rockwell painting, we were not exactly a part of it.

Brothers visit Morocco Feb 16-23

First Night in Marrakesh: La Place Djemaa El-Fna