Why do so many businessmen convert to Islam?

FOR THE PROPHET!!!!
Ha. Gotta love Islam jokes.

So last night we got back from our 4 day trip to the Sahara. Easy to say this was the coolest experience of my life. I'll start from the beginning.

Thursday we met early in the morning and managed to turn a 7 hour car ride into a 12 hour road trip. Moroccans like to have bread and tea at least every hour.

Friday we visited a shrine and a mosque and a place where they make pottery, old school style. We saw the raw mud that they dug from the ground, the potter who was using a kick wheel, the brick and clay ovens they used to fire the pottery, and the man who was doing henna designs on the pottery.

**Before being glazed or fired**
**Dude doing henna**

Then that afternoon we headed out to the Sahara. Took us two hours via bus to reach the end of the road and from there we were on camelback. We each got a blue turban to wrap around our heads and faces to keep the sand away so we looked like a band of uncomfortable wannabe terrorists in American clothing.

**See the terrorist in the red? That would be me.**

**Shadow pictures**

The camels were pretty serene and aside from the awkward positioning of their humps the ride wasn't too uncomfortable. At least for the first hour. The second hour found all of us squirming to find a more comfortable position and when we finally got off at our campsites it was an understatement to say we were walking funny. The ride there was spectacular. Everywhere you looked there was just...sand. The sky was literally cloudless. Not like...a few clouds here and there. None. And it was just bright bright blue. The best way I heard it described was that we were in a snowglobe. It looked like all the land around us was just flat and the sky formed a perfect dome around us. **Perfect skies**

At dusk the sky turned kinda purple and we hoped the guides knew where they were going cause if they turned us around we would never know. The campsite was more like a Ritz Carlton in the middle of the desert. There was one huge tent where we ate our meals and then a circle of smaller tents where we all had mattresses to sleep on. **Our campsite complete with camels**

After dinner we all laid on our backs in the middle of the smaller tents and watched the stars. Again, the sky was cloudless and I was pretty sure I could see every star ever invented. Eventually Dr. Godlas's stories got infinitely more pointless and boring and we passed out.

Saturday morning we all woke up to the sun peering in our tents and one of the guides singing prayers somewhere in the dunes. Turns out it was about 5:30am. Holy cow, Bob should be proud. We treated ourselves to some breakfast (tea and bread...SURPRISE!) and headed back to society via camel. At that point we were pretty sore in strange places so the camel ride back was less than comfortable. But again, the sky was cloudless and the temperature was still morning-cool so we could handle the soreness for our ride back. When we had only 20 minutes left in our ride, one of the camels got spooked and bucked it's rider off. Was it one of the healthy, active 20 year olds on the trip? No...it was the one lady who is 56 and came along for the experience. She rolled her ankle and had to ice it when we got back. Naturally. Compared to the desert and camels the rest of our 4 days was pretty uneventful. Saturday afternoon we trekked to Ait Haddu where what I like to call the "Skirt Situation" occured.

Casbah Ait Haddu is this famous place in Morocco where tons of movies have been filmed (Gladiator, Jewel of the Nile, Samson and Gamorah, etc.).

**See the little house at the very top in to the left? That's where we walked up to**

Anyways, we were told we were going on a little tour around it and to get ready. I noticed everyone was wearing pants so I said to one of our leaders, Ja'afar, "I didn't get the pants memo...should I go change?" and he said, "No, we're just walking around a little bit, it won't be a problem." ALL LIES. Walking around the base of the hill wasn't much of a problem so I was off to a good start. As we progressed up the hill and it got later and much windier I noticed my skirt was beginning to take on a mind of it's own so I casually wrapped it around my legs and just held onto the end of it. As we got even further up the hill the winds were reaching some intense speeds and I was getting very close to sharing my goods with the Arab world. It look both hands and lots of patience to continually try to tame my satan skirt. By the top of the hill I thought it might just fly off my body at any given moment. At one point I had a friend help me down off a little ledge and he caught me kind of awkwardly. Seconds later one of the girls yelled, "CINDY! I THINK THERE'S A RIP IN YOUR SKIRT!" Upon reaching my hand backwards I felt nothing but my bare behind. How fantastic that I should be sharing my choice of underwear with a society that won't share it's choice of haircut. Somehow we managed to take my overshirt and tie it in two different ways around my body to cover my girl parts and at the same time tie my skirt around my leg so it turned into some strange form of pants. This is how I walked down the hill. I was wearing my beautiful peach colored, Navajo-inspired, Goodwill-rejected skirt/now pants and I knew my mom would be upset if I had to throw it out. After all she had been pretty clear in letting me know she didn't want me representing America in a piece of fabric this...glorious.

**A picture courtesy of another girl, capturing the sense of community that surrounds such a tragedy**

So when we got back to our hotel room we gradually untied the thousand knots that had been formed in my outfit along the way and discovered that, in fact, there was no rip in my skirt. What the girl had seen was the slit for my pocket and when I felt behind me I had actually put my hand down my skirt. Is there any better way to end a story this ridiculous? I don't think so.

So Sunday we drove all the way back to Marrakesh and made it back home by 4. At about 5 I layed down for a nap and woke up this morning at 7. So 14 hours of good sleep to recover from 4 incredible days.