Sleepless in Morocco

For my last night in Casablanca, my crazy but cool Tunisian roommate and I went out to a nightclub with her Moroccan boyfriend and his brother. What a night. We left the hostel at around 11 PM - just before it closed for the evening. Houda's boyfriend picked is up in his old car that refused to start about half of the time, requiring the boys to hey out and push it in the rain that had just started. When we eventually made it to the club, by the beach, I paid $10 and the others paid $30(!) to get in, because they don't drink.

The club was like anything you might find in the US, except they had hookas and set fire to the dancefloor! I was probably the only Westerner in the place, but it wasn't a big deal. The music was mostly dance-y remixes of American, French and Arabic songs. And the DJ was pretty good. The coolest part of the night, though, was watching people dance. The men dance a lot more here than in American, for sure, and I was convinced that the girls at the table next to us were belly dancers - normal people can't shake their hips like that! During the last hour before closing (3 to 4 AM), they played a number of traditional Moroccan songs and the dancing turned from Western-influenced to festive. I loved it! So cool!

When we finally made our way back to the car, it was 4 AM, and we ended up sleeping in the car, in the street, because the hostel didn't open again until 8. I fell asleep curled up in the backseat, cold, listening to the pounding rain on the roof and praying I wouldn't need to use the facilities. What a night! When we returned to the hostel, I got my things together, had breakfast with my South African friends, and headed to the bus station for a 4-hour ride to Marrakech. Woo hoo!
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