assilah.

the first stop on our Moroccan journey

a charming beach town 

named assilah

looking back,

we realize we did it just right.

fresh off the plane we jumped into a taxi

(after bartering for the price of course)

and headed down the coast

windows cracked open

taxi weaving in between lanes

a dirty dusty landscape rolling by outside

the blue of the sea peeking in now and again

assilah was quiet 

in a way the rest of morocco was not

the lilt of spanish echoed across the streets

arabic thrown in for exclamations

assilah eased us in to morocco

just the right amount of overwhelming

i've never been to greece

but i'd like to think it looks something similar

painted doors

white walls

colorful flowerpots and murals

we heard our first call to prayer

within the city walls

the medina

a mystifying melody

at once romantic and eerie

we tasted our first mint tea

'berber whiskey' 

as it became known later on

perhaps since alcohol is frowned upon

they add sugar and hope for a similar effect

tea so minty you feel like you brushed your teeth

and then counteracted it by drinking a syrup so sweet

you can almost crunch the sugar crystals

assilah was also unique because of one specific thing

an unexpected magnifying glass view into the culture

a select few of you

have heard the story of my indian massage

a few summers ago

the awkward sort of experience

you can only laugh at afterwards

the one you'll tell over and over

around a summer campfire

laughing until your belly hurts

well, two of my girlfriends and i 

decided to jump in to a similar experience

a moroccan 'hammam' 

a spa, or bath

level of surprise to find myself among not-very-dressed moroccan women = high

level of unease to find myself among not-very-dressed moroccan women = even higher

willingness to embrace the experience = just high enough

pain factor having 2 layers of my skin scrubbed off = too high

having skin as soft as the day i was born afterwards = pretty worth it

experiencing moroccan tradition and daily life in a way i never imagined = certainly worth it

i think

the fact that the massage and body scrub

didn't involve red gooey ayurvedic massage oil

and a linoleum table

may have helped my experience

though don't get me wrong 

there are still awkward moments to be had when being

washed, massaged, and scrubbed 

by a sizable moroccan woman

but somewhere in the middle

i just decided to go with it

at the very least

i could add it to my collection of foreign country massage stories

another campfire tale

to be told