Moroccan Gazetteer: Rabat

Rabat, the capital of Morocco, is a complicated city. It is here that you will find the king’s main palace (off-limits to tourists and citizens, alike), the administrative heart of the Moroccan government, the foreign diplomatic and ex-patriot community, and, most importantly, the Peace Corps Morocco headquarters.

Some sources give Rabat a bad name for being “un-Moroccan.” This is probably because its present form was built mostly by the French and it has a very European style, and is partly why so many volunteers like to come here for a break from their sites (that, and the free internet in the volunteer’s lounge). It’s also a lot more relaxed in terms of tourist hassling, most likely the result of so many foreigners being here for business, not to take in the sights. And it’s significantly more expensive than other Moroccan cities, enough so that the Peace Corps allows a higher expense reimbursement for this city only.

But Rabat has a significant history behind it, as well, and has played its role in the development of Morocco long before the French. Artifacts from prehistoric settlements can be found in Rabat’s Archaeological Museum (which is mildly interesting, but not really worth the entrance fee unless you really don’t have anything else to do), and one of Rabat’s most spectacular monuments, the Shellah, was established before the arrival of the Romans, and is where we’ll begin talking about the city.

The Shellah (in French, Chellah, but we’ve talked about “ch” before) is a little outside the walls of the city, but only about a twenty minute walk from the Hotel Velleda, Peace Corps Morocco’s unofficial sponsor. Any given day you can find at least two volunteers staying there. When you get to the Shellah, you’ll see massive gates that are significantly bigger than anything within them, which open onto a lush tropical garden. A path leads you downhill until you come upon the citadel itself. There is a small section of Roman ruins that are mostly just stones in the general outline of foundations, but the highlight is the mosque-monastery ruin at the center. Most of it has been filled in with the tombs of past royal families. What makes the Shellah really unique, though, as a ruin, is a small pool off to the side. The water is inhabited by eels that are considered sacred and petitioned to with hard-boiled eggs by women having difficulty giving birth, and the water is littered with coins. There’s also a sort of stray cat colony living in the site and an old cat lady taking care of them.

Number two on your list should definitely be the Oudaia. This small enclosure was the original fortified Kasbah (a ribat, from which the city gets its name) of the Almohad dynasty for their conquest of Spain, and a semi-autonomous pirate colony. The streets look like a middling recreation of Chefchaouen’s blue and white, but you’re not likely to notice when distracted by the beautiful ocean view, spectacular ceremonial gate, and immaculate Andalusian garden.

There are a fair number of hustlers hanging about, but they’ll always be my favorites in Morocco. I first came to the Oudaia on a trip to Rabat to assist in a women’s 8k race (I had won a scholarship to send two kids from Freedonia), and we took them on a tour of the city the day before the race. Obviously, when you have some 50 kids between the ages of 14 and 16 wandering through the capital city, you have to make them all wear the same thing, which happened to be a gray t-shirt and shorts sponsored by the American embassy, with the American and Moroccan flags on it. And so, the hustlers saw a bunch of kids all wearing American flags, kids who, due to their more rural origins, had the demeanor of your typical tourist rube, and started speaking to them in English. Of course, none of the kids understood English, which made them retreat even more. Another volunteer and I had to step in and explain in Arabic that we were the Americans and these kids, to whom they were speaking in English, were Moroccan and neither speak English nor need any of their services. One of my top five moments as a volunteer.

Your last big sight is the biggest in Rabat: the Hassan Tower and Mausoleum. The tower is actually the never-completed minaret of what would have been one of the largest mosques in the world, and the columns around the plaza held up its roof until an earthquake brought it down in the 18^th Century. And it is here, across from the tower, that Mohammad V, the first king of the modern independent Morocco, lies enshrined in his tomb along side his sons Hassan II and Prince Abdellah. There are fancily decorated guards all around the place who seem as much there to maintain order as they are to pose for photographs, predominately with Moroccans.

Most volunteers, however, will enjoy these once or twice and then spend the rest of their trips to Rabat focused on the nightlife. There are plenty of bars and nightclubs – and certainly a lot more than you’re likely to find in your site – but bars and nightclubs in Morocco can be some of the shadiest places in the world. Pretty much all the guys are drug dealers for some Eastern European mafia (or wish they were), and just about all the ladies there are on the job. It’s not the same nightlife experience that you’re used to from back home, which is the only real reason to go to the club in Morocco. That’s why you go to either of the two American places: the Marine House or the American Club.

I’ve never been to the Marine House (which, in case you were wondering, is where the marines who guard the embassy live), but I have read their invitations to Super Bowl parties. Maybe next year. The American Club sounds like the sort of place that would have dark rooms, high winged-back chairs, cigar smoke, and lots of port. In truth, it’s a lot like Rick’s Café in Casablanca; it has a cute garden patio, good lighting, overpriced drinks, and little to spark a poetic imagination. My only real experience with the American Club has been trying to find it in the middle of the night, walking halfway across Rabat, getting really bad directions, and finding myself in some pretty shady neighborhoods (the American Club is in a really nice area, that’s just a demonstration of how lost I was). Fortunately, all incoming volunteers are automatically added to the list, and when I got there my friends were still about five minutes away from leaving.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that of all the major cities I've been to in Morocco, Rabat is the number one of all them that I would want to live in if I were ever to come back here in the future. It's got a relaxed atmosphere but things to do, ancient ruins and grocery stores, mint tea and real hamburgers, and the marines play flag football on Super Bowl Sunday.