July 2007 Archives

Magharebia.com reports:

In Morocco, 24 people were killed and 1,194 injured last week in 927 road accidents, MAP reported. A police statement attributed the accidents to loss of control over vehicles, negligence of pedestrians and drivers, speeding, violating road rules, and driving under the influence. Road accidents in the country have increased by 3% yearly over the last decade, causing enormous economic losses, especially for the tourism sector. Losses are estimated at $1.2 billion a year, or 2.5% of GDP. (Ech Chourouk, MAP)

It is enough to make one think twice before taking tne next grand taxi ride. I assume that the buses have a somewhat better record, since they are bigger, although I have vivid memories of the rusted wreckage at the base of the High Atlas. Bad as the roads may be, for much of the country — as for the United States — there is no good alternative.

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The death of Rabbi Sherwin Wine, a prominent fixture of the Detroit area for many years, in a taxi in Morocco is a grim reminder that there are too many deaths on the roads in Morocco — and in the United States.

THE VIEW FROM FEZ has a very thoughtful post on population distribution. While acknowledging the challenges posed by urban poverty, the article points out that they are often a response to the greater hardships of rural poverty. The question becomes how the more fortunate segments of society wil respond to the needs of the less fortunate in the cities. The post cites the United Nations' State of the World Population Report.

Simply Moroccan has a great post — complete with pictures, lyrics, translations, and music video — on Reda Taliani's song about sailing to a better life.

One of the things I have always liked best about Robert B. Parker's mystery stories is that urban(e) tough guy Spenser is regularly cooking some delicious gourmet dish when he is not out roughing up the bad guys. Parker is quite detailed about the mouth-watering meals that Spenser cooks up and then usually washes down with good beer, so much so that one could almost imagine doing the cooking oneself.

So it is that I try new food as much as I can; life should be a culinary adventure. Finding myself in Puerto Rico a little more than a week ago for a conference, I escaped from the lavish Rio Mar resort long enough to sample "Mofongo," a mashed plantain dish, with octopus and conch at a local restaurant. Much to my surprise, I was the only person in the restaurant, a fact compensated for by a magnificent view of the island.

The beauty of the island was in stark contrast to the rather grim reading I brought along. After much searching, I had obtained a copy of Mohammed Choukri's For Bread Alone, and I read it in the evenings after seminars. Choukri recounts his brutal upbringing in a novel that is also very much about food, because there is never enough of it. In one vignette, Choukri jumps off the pier in the harbor to retrieve a crust of bread discarded by a fisherman, only to discover that he is swimming in a sea of shit. (Milan Kundera would no doubt find the novel vulgar but not kitschy.) Choukri's novel counterpoints between desire and disgust, the torments of appetite in a world where there is never enough of anything and a cruel and ignominious death hovers constantly in the background.

Taste of Morocco- Silver Spring, MD - Washington DC & Baltimore Area - Chowhound

Taste of Morocco gets a lukewarm review; Pyramids a thumbs up.