Day 136: Chicks Dig Scars

Marrakesh, Morocco

Todays agenda was to simply wander around the Medina get a bit lost and see what we can find. Once again it’s a city where everyone is trying to do business and see tourists as nothing much more than moneybags. Here they stand in your way, drop monkeys onto your shoulders and even grab and drag you to try and get money out of you, but just because they’re selling doesn’t mean we’re buying.

The Medina here is more of a maze of narrow covered corridors then any of the others we encountered. I wandered around had a look at what was for sale, fought off unruly shopkeeps an endless stray cats. eventually after a few hours of the heat, and sights we made it back to the main square, the Djemaa El Fna. The square is packed with more venders selling just about everything the Morocco has to offer. shaman and witch doctors selling everything from spices and herb to live animals like chameleons, squirrels and turtles. Monkey handlers walk our close relatives leashed up to solicit a nice photo Op. Snake charmers spit out banter from their flutes while black cobras which seem more ignorant than charmed roam about their rugs.

Not wanting to spoil all the Marrakesh has to offer in a day we heading back to the hotel to chill out a bit. Little did we know the adventure that was in store for this evening.

I was up on the roof laying down, sucked into my copy of “The Lost World”. I took a break, stood up and had a big stretch. Everything went blank and i just remember feeling a big CRACKKKKK sound. Next thing I know I woke up on the floor with  some spacey tunes playing around in my head and being completely and utterly lost. I had not a clue where I was, or a recollection to how i got there. I began to hear voices echoing over from the other balcony, “did you just see that” ,  “I think the kid just fell over”,  “is he ok?”. My senses began getting back in place when I noticed blood on the floor. I thought maybe I had a nose bleed and when I checked my face I was about the first knuckle deep in a hole where my chin should be. Still pretty spaced out I still able to manage an “Oh Shit” before I made my way down a few narrow staircases to go find Elys. I ran into the manager of the hotel and tried to explain what happened but all he could notice was the blood pouring from my face.  I went a ghostly white shade and was dripping sweat. I found Elys downstairs who gave me some gauge to put on my face and we caught a cab the the hospital,

I was worried about having an ER visit at the hospital, let alone one in Morocco. The first nurse didn’t speak english but a lift of my bandage and she knew where to send me. The consult doctor had a look, prodded the hole a bit and sent me to get sewn up. During the wait Elys and I had time to sit back observe the hospital which was pretty chaotic. There was a lot to notice at once, there were women running around screaming, security guards smacking patients, street fighters cuffed up, covered each others blood with police escorts. It was like watching a movie play. Still kind of out of it the doctors called me in to get stitched up after the criminals, and some others with severe looking head wounds.

Doc had me lay down, I could only watch down my nose as he stuck me with needles and Elys was by my feet snapping some photos for the blog. Numbed up, I watched the doctor carry on as the nurses were cracking jokes with me. Next thing you know I was all patched up, given my prescriptions, and sent on my way.

So my take on Moroccan healthcare:
1) Face got sewn up good as new
2) Was in an out in about an hour
3) The whole visit was completely FREE!!!