It rained this morning, and on and off last night. At breakfast my host mom warned me about the cold, but the rain felt warm and light from a Midwestern perspective. By now, around lunch time, the garden is dry except for a couple puddles in the gutters in the shade and a bit of dampness to the grass. The sun is warm and the sky is clear. Weather here rolls in off the ocean, changing quickly. When the wind is up the waves become huge, the shore is rocky and the waves crash on the cliffs and spray into the air, right besides a busy highway dividing the shore from the neighborhoods.
On the tram to the ocean, the trees are filled with oranges (it is the peak of orange season about now) and occasionally I see the long fingers of Norfolk pines, which always make me smile. Rabat’s climate is mild, milder than most of Morocco. I am heading to the mountains in a few days, where there are meters of snow, and visited Casablanca recently, where the weather was distinctly warmer. I’m not sure if Casablanca was warmer because of the size of the city and general lack of green space or because of an actual difference in climate, as the city is only an hour south of Rabat.
In my last post, I guessed that the big tree over where I am sitting was in the poplar family, Salicaceae, turns out I was very wrong – it is a type of eucalyptus, which is in the myrtle family, Myrtaceae! I had no idea eucalyptus could look like this, or even that eucalyptus was related to myrtles. The English common name for the tree is red river gum, and I’ve started seeing it all over the city. Streets are lined with it and the paths in the park where I walk on afternoons when I am not too tired are covered in its seeds. Hajar, one of the language partners (Moroccan students who speak with us in Arabic and organize cultural events), says they call it شجرة الكاليبتوس (shajarat alkalibtus), which is essentially a direct translation of ‘eucalyptus tree.’
The bright flowers growing in the shade beneath the University walls are fading fast, the days might be starting to get too hot for them. The plant is called pigface or ice plant in English, and is apparently native to South Africa, but has spread all around the Mediterranean and California, where it is particularly prolific. I asked my language partner about the name of these flowers in Darija, and she said they don’t really have a name, people tend to just describe them when discussing them. Although the species is introduced, I’ve seen it planted all over Rabat, and there are transplanted shoots tucked into sandy wells around palm trees on my street, maybe intended to grow into ground cover.
I have not had the chance to see many ungroomed areas in Morocco, and I wonder if pigface shows up where it was not planted, or only around the cities. I’m not sure what plants are native to the area. I see hibiscus (الكركديه – al karkadia) and bougainvillea (بوجنوية – bujnawia) everywhere, with bright purple and red flowers spilling out into the street over whitewashed walls, but I think these are introduced as well. On a visit to Temara, south of Rabat, the bus drove past a wilder garden than anything I have seen so far, with big agave-like plants, stringy trees, and various palms. Eventually I will find the time for a walk there.
Where I am sitting, the sandy soil and stringy weeds point to how arid the area is, although the day is humid. My host family has told me how in the Spring, Rabat gets hit with a wave of humidity, and everyone gets sick. Morocco’s climate is diverse, from the ocean to the desert up to the high Atlas mountains, and generally arid. It’s beautiful here in the sun, the last bits of puddles are drying up and the day is warm as anything. I have Arabic soon, and will pop to the cafeteria to grab tea before.