tortoise pile

anonymous asked:

SHIP MY BEST FRIEND IS STUDYING ABROAD IN RABAT NEXT SEMESTER WHAT SHOULD THEY KNOW

Go to the old medina. On the right side of Mohammad V, going North, there may be a woman in niqab selling smoothies. She has a small table outside a shop, and the sign advertises avocado smoothies. Her fingers may be stained with henna. Order a strawberry smoothie. It’s absolutely divine. She’s not there every day, but when she is, you MUST buy juice from her. I never learned her name, but she laughed when I called her Sayyida Asiir - “juice lady”, and thought I was Harry Potter.

If you continue down Mohammad V and turn left on Ave Laalou, the chef at Cafe Laalou is a sweetheart and will probably try to teach you Arabic. The food isn’t great, but the coffee is good. There’s a family upstairs with a son, about seven years old. He loves Spider-Man. His mom is a jerk, but his grandparents are nice.

There’s a Syrian restaurant to the South and West of the old medina. Two, actually. The one on the same street as the grocery store is better. The staff there is great. Just outside the medina is a smoothie shop called Le Gout du Fruit. Order the avocado smoothie. If you don’t like it, order a raspberry smoothie next time. If you DO like it, go back to the Syrian restaurant and order the avocado smoothie with nuts on top. It’s heavenly. (Moroccan ice cream is not great. Moroccan smoothies are enchanted.) Try sugar cane juice - you’ll see carts selling it along the road. Don’t order the snails. Buy rgheif with butter or Nutella for a snack. The muezzin on Rue Souika is terrible and everyone knows it, but don’t comment, even if he sneezes or coughs in the middle of the adhan - he’s doing his best, hopefully. The street vendors will try to overcharge you if you are white, and will occasionally gossip about you in Darija if they think you don’t speak it. Don’t pet the cats unless you see locals doing it, and definitely don’t try to rescue stray dogs. There will be crates of small tortoises piled on top of each other; you cannot help them. Camel head tastes like beef, but fattier and chewier - the locals will observe you curiously if you order it, and are generally impressed by Americans with adventurous taste buds. Don’t buy tea, ever - your teeth will thank you. It is syrupy with sugar and you will be politely forced to drink gallons of it by anyone you visit. Attend a public bath with someone who knows what they’re doing. The As-Shouhada’ Cemetery is haunted. The souk is also haunted, but only at night, after the shops close up - it become the marketplace of djinnoon. The beach is full of young couples making out, but the police patrol it and may arrest you if they catch you kissing. Children may rob you, but you can usually buy Kleenex from them if they’re selling. If an old man with missing fingers grabs your hand and holds it, insisting that you’ve made a deal and he’s come to collect his end of the bargain, get away from him. Don’t try to buy drugs, and don’t be seen talking to drug dealers. Insist that cab drivers turn on the meter when you get in the car. It’s not weird to say “Inshallah” when speaking of plans/goals or “Mashallah” when complimenting someone, even if you’re not Muslim - it’s good manners and, in some situations, basic decency. Don’t prop your feet on furniture, and invest in a pair of slippers to wear indoors.

If your friend is a woman, she needs to steel herself for an overwhelming amount of street harassment. There are decent and respectful men in Morocco, but in public, you’re going to get hell. If your friend is short-haired and relatively androgynous, she will frequently be mistaken for a boy. If your friend is a man, he needs to go out of his way to be there for his female classmates and ready to escort them after dark or through unfamiliar places. @thisisradionowhere can tell you more.

Frankie Tortoise Tails: Tortpocalypse 2015

Outside it’s finely warm.  I’ve been released from house arrest.  I was getting pretty tired being stuck in a bathroom, living inside a cardboard box and surrounded by masses of UPS brown paper.  My only form of sustenance has been hay with the occasional carrot to tease me.   There they will be payback for this incarceration.

That’s right, I have joined my fellow turtles and tortoises for TORTPOCALYPSE 2015.  Prepare to meet your doom humans.  Waffles,  a fellow sulcata tortoise from Canada, may just be a pint sized fellow but that tort has some smarts in that noodle of his. As soon as I hear of the all out initiative to eliminate mankind I said where do I sign up!

Last night I stayed up and planned out my offensive for the lower 48 states.  These are my plans so far:

Day 1:  Take Whole Foods Grocery Store hostage until they surrender all organic carrots.  As soon as the carrots are freed, ravage the store and leave no shelf standing.  Spend the rest of the afternoon basking, grazing and eating carrots to build up energy for Day 2.

Day 2:  Ram PetSmart and free all captive tortoises and turtles.  Stock pile cuttlebones and bagged Orchard Hay.  Take only the Orchard hay.   All other hay taste nasty.  Annihilate the remaining PetSmart facility. Recruit freed turtles and tortoises for tort army active duty.  Check out back lot for dandelions.

Day 3: Reenact this–

Day 4:  Lay waste to all government buildings in downtown Mobile just because we can.  Spend latter part of day accepting gifts of surrender from humans.  

Day 5:  Level airport all except any one plane that will fly us to Canada to meet Waffles.  

As soon as we arrive in Canada, Waffles and I and thousands of turtle minions will join together as a whole shelled arm to continue our take over of the world.

Okay.  Sounds spectacular.  I have enough time today to ram the side of the house until mom comes out with carrots and hay.  This will be my final meal served by a free human.

We should spare any human capable of service to turtles and tortoise.   Mom is pretty good at that.  I think I shall recruit her for tortoise servitude.

Tortoise are so brilliant.  We deserve to rule.  

9

It’s official: Our deck is gone! All those old, warped wooden planks have been torn up, leaving behind two sad-looking beams and a big stretch of dirt. I took a nap on one of the beams in memory of all my wonderful adventures on our deck.

Mommy had one last surprise in store for me: All those pieces of wood were piled up nearby, so I did get one more romp on my favorite old planks!