We were off to a good start after waiting 6 hours at LAX (hahahah, it was less than fun). Then 10 hours to Amsterdam, running through the airport for our flight that was boarding, and a three hour flight on bug-infested Air Maroc. @ the Casablanca Airport we realized that our bags were not in the country. It was unclear whether there were in Amsterdam, or some other God-forsaken place in between. No one has any idea. 3 hours later (because only one agent spoke English, the other didn't... and she refused to make eye contact with us... and she spoke to every other Moroccan person instead of us) we gathered that they may still be in Asmterdam, but no one will commit to nor speculate on their current location. Great. All we know is that they might arrive in Fez tomorrow... Inshallah.
1st night in Casablanca, we had dinner at the hotel. We knew that there would be no alcohol, but a beer sounded so good after 24 hours of traveling. We asked the doorman at the hotel where the nearest bar was and fortunately, it was across the street. Unfortunately, there are no women allowed in bars, unless they are of the working variety. The boys were allowed to go, but there was no way under any circumstances that we were allowed to go. We had tea and went off to bed instead, leaving the guys to fend for themselves in Casasblanca at nght.
Ifrane in the AM, we'll see if our luggage meets us there.
Lesson of the day: Inshallah is something that we are getting used to already, after only a few hours here. It means "if God wills it," a religious manifesto that means both "maybe" and "I'm not responsible for what happens." I'm wondering how things get done around here. ;)