A Carnival

So the boy that I had the Sedar with goes to the French school which had a carnival to raise money for different charity organizations. I decided that it would be cool to see how a Moroccan carnival is and to see little kids. So a friend and I go. To get in you have to bring in a liter of milk, that they are going to donate to a charity that takes care of kids for moms who can't afford day care. We enter and it's one of the most organized carnivals I've been to. There are tents for everything, a blow up slide, lots of games for kids, a kareoke place. On the other side there are stands with stuff for artisans and with different charity associations. I felt like I was in Vermont, or when I was in Talahassee or any open air farmer's market. It was a strange feeling, because the Medina is also open air but very very Moroccan. Somehow, this with its little tents and organized set up was so very American somehow. In any case, it was fun to see a different side of Morocco. I also got to see the children of Europeans who obviously live here. In the medina, all you see are Moroccans and tourists and us from the center; you don't realize that there are actually people of European descent that actually live in the country. I was amazed at seeing so many blondes and red heads!

Mega Mall

So yesterday I went bowling at Mega Mall, Rabat's big mall. It was strange, almost like walking back into the US. The stores were similar to any upscale mall in the US, along with upscale kaftan stores. There was a ice rink, bowling alley, and children's play center inside. The food court had food like you'd find at a food court in the US, tacos, asian food, sushi, a kebab place named Aladdin. It wasn't like the "fast food" I'd seen in the rest of Morocco. What was strangest was the clothing. There were the jelabas and even more hijabs, but there were a lot of western clothes and more strangely western hairdos and more cutting edge western clothes. Cutting edge is the wrong word; I don't quite know how to describe it. Maybe it was that there were more piercing and hipsters and things like that. The bowling alley was a lot like the ones in the US, minus the alcohol and arcade. It was actually a lot cleaner than any I went to in the US. It was a strange experience, I guess, by living in a lower middle class neighborhood, I've gotten the least globalized part of Morocco, but the richer areas are very Americanish...

A Moroccan Sedar

So I was really excited to get to go to my first Sedar since I came to college. Of course I found it easier to find someone to have it with in Morocco than in Boston. So my really religious friend found this family that we could have Sedar with, so I went with her, her boyfriend, and two other girls to synagogue for prayer before we met up with this family. There we meet the son of the family. His name is Avi and he is a nice looking 18 year old who is just finishing up his French Baccalaureate. He speaks a little English, but his first language is French. I think that his parents first language may have been Dareeja (or in any case they know it a lot better than their son, who had to learn it in school). We walk to his apartment building and enter. In many ways it is like a moroccan house, with the main room with lots of couches. However, there is a high table there with chairs for all of us. We start the Sedar, which is all in Hebrew, with the tradition of putting the plate with all the special passover food over people's heads and saying the prayer for wanting to be in Israel next year. It is a fast Sedar, since it's just rushing through the Hebrew words that all those who know Hebrew say. I'm a little bored, but I look at the pictures and try to keep to the right pages. I think I want to learn how to read Hebrew, it bothers me that it's so close to Arabic but I can't figure it out. I'm sure it won't be that hard to learn. After we do the prayers (the only time that is really exciting is the plagues where they pour water and wine together to make the water turn into blood and the dayenu part where at least I remember that we're talking about how it would have been enough if God had only given the Torah) and eat the specific food (I've never seen the haroshet literally be squished up apples in wine), we commence to eating. The food is quite Moroccan in its way. First we have salads of different sorts, including an amazing one made of carrots, parsley, oil, lemon, salt, and pepper. Then we have a fish dish, and then a fava bean soup. It's all very good. During the meal, we Americans mostly talk between ourselves, but I try to find out a bit more about Avi. He wants to go to college in France and study business and eventually leave Morocco unless there is an especially good opportunity in Morocco. Talking to him is funny, since he doesn't speak that good english but he doesn't really speak Arabic either, but it can be easier to speak arabic to him. Also, his first language is French, which I mostly understand... but we mostly stick to English. The mother is nice, if quiet, and it took a long time for me to figure out that she even knows how to read Hebrew since she leaves it up to the men (I asked... women don't get bat mitzvahs in Morocco). After we eat and get fruit for dessert, we do the after dinner prayer (for I think the first time in my life) by speeding through the Hebrew even faster than before and with less time for singing parts. After that, Avi drives us home and then we go the next day, for almost the same thing except meatballs, peas, and artichoke instead of fish. I enjoyed it, although Passover isn't the same if you don't understand the story that is being told...

Hamaming alone... or not so alone

So my friends were going to hamam on Thursday, and I couldn't go then because I was going to Passover Sedar, so I decided to go alone. I was going to go in one of the showers, because I was alone, but the lady at the front of the shop convinced me to go hamaming, so I did. So I sit in a corner and start scrubbing. This time I've forgotten to get the lotion soap, so I'm just scrubbing, the lady beside me sees me and tells me, no, you have to use the lotion soap, and gives me some. Then they send me to the hot room, I think just to open my pores, but they want me to scrub, so I do. Obviously I'm not doing it right, because then another lady comes up and starts scrubbing my back and showing me how it's done. I introduce myself and find out her name is Hagar. I then go back to my place and continue scrubbing. I start talking to the lady beside me (her name is Fatiha) and she tells me about her two kids and asks if I'm married (maybe she wanted me to get with her 17 year old son?). I tell her I have a boyfriend and we talk some more. I start scrubbing myself with soap and she offers me her soap scrubber. I accept and use it, and when I clean it and try to give it back, she won't let me. I get the impression she wants to trade numbers, but we're in the hamam, so it's hard. I decide I'm too dehydrated and have to go before she does. I feel kind of bad, she's done all these nice things for me. So I tell her she's nice and beautiful and try to be as thankful as possible before I leave. I had sort of experienced Moroccan hospitality before, but this was the best I've experienced so far.

Thoughts about coming back from Spain

It's interesting, Spring Break didn't revitalize us as much as make us more homesick. I think it was seeing somewhere that although not like home, was so much more like home than Rabat that it felt like home. It was nice not having to worry about street harassment or picking an expensive enough restaurant that it wouldn't be awkward just being a few girls. It was nice being able to be out late and not have to deal with parental figures. It was nice seeing couples on the street and being able to wear a tank top. So coming back was hard--we had to readjust to the cultural differences all over again, and it was harder, knowing just how different they were not just for not being America, but for not being Western. It makes me so much more amazed how immigrants adjust. It's harder than I thought it would be. I suppose most of the places I had traveled before I had been in a Western setting, or at least in a tourist enclave. I think that's why I missed home more than I expected...

A Rabat Church

One of my friends here is pretty religious, and has been going to church every Sunday. I thought it would be interesting to see how Church was conducted in a mostly Muslim country, so I went along with her. The first thing I noticed when I walked in was that everyone was talking in English. This was really strange to me... in Morocco, if people aren't speaking Arabic they're speaking French. That's just how its been. But here we were greeted with a Good Morning and everyone was speaking English. I guess it was the choice of service we were going to. It is called "Rabat International Church" and considered itself "Multi-denominational" and "Multi-ethnic." When I look around, I see the most white people I have seen in Rabat, with almost the same number of Black Africans and then quite a few Asians. I did not see a single Moroccan. I think that's mostly because there are so few Moroccan Christians, but also because the service was in English. I also think that the fact that it was not majority Black African is due to the fact that it was in English, French services seem to be mostly Black African here. It was different than other services I've gone to, since we only sang one hymn and the rest were just Christian songs (very upbeat) and instead of an organ we had a guitar player, that just gives a different feel to a service. It was also interesting what the pastor chose to preach about. He took a part of Matthew and explained how it's more important to make sure you truly believe in your heart than performing the actions of Christianity. It was really interesting to me because Islam (and for that matter Judiasm) is very different in that way: a lot of religion has to do with doing the right actions and doing the actions is then supposed to lead to the right mental state. Christianity seems to encourage religion to go the other way. It made me think of a piece we read about Islamic women where a woman was trying to learn to be modest and how she became modest at heart by first acting modest. It was especially interesting because the part of Matthew that the pastor preached about is when Jesus tells a certain group that they don't need to wash their hands before a meal and how Jesus says its not what you eat that makes you unclean but what you say. This struck me as interesting since ritual washing is so important to Islam, and eating clean food is so important to both Islam and Judaism. Overall it was a very nice service, partly because it was so laid back. Afterwards I went with a group to have brunch at a restaurant and I got to find out their stories. It was interesting to see why people had come to Morocco, from working with organizations that helped handicapped children to learning Arabic to simply wanting to live abroad. I think the most interesting thing was when my friend and I both talked about our love of the hammam. I guess that all of the people I'd gone hammaming with had been so open to it and ok with being naked that I had forgotten how strange it is to Western culture. They were a little shocked that I wanted to take my mom with me. Overall, it was nice to meet other English speakers actually living in Rabat. Sometimes we kind of get in a little bubble around our lives at the center and with our families.

Thoughts about history

It's interesting, I feel like what WWII was for the West, wars for independence are to the rest of the world, or at least to the Middle East. Right now there is a music video that talks about having a loved one far away because of war and the music video shows the singer and her lover who's in the underground and her working for the rich colonialists undercover at a fancy hotel. At first I thought it was about WWII because the clothes are obviously from the 40s/50s, but then I realized that no, those aren't Germans, those are colonialists. It's interesting how the Algerians who were fighting the French had a very similar experience in some ways to the French that had underground resistance against the Germans. Maybe the Germans were really only taking colonialism to it's ultimate level, as well as the ethnocentrism of the West. Maybe the French and British didn't persecute people living in their countries or take over their European neighbors, but they did persecute those people they didn't think of as civilized and France did colonize its next door neighbor. Of course, then Germany systematically killed people...

A Moroccan Concert

So I arrived back to Morocco just in time to see my host dad's concert (he plays the rabab in an Andalusian music group). It was interesting because throughout the whole thing people kept on talking and even talked on their cell phones throughout it. But they got really into it when the band started playing a song (called sunset) that everyone knew. It was really cool to see every age group enjoy it and sing along, from teenagers to 10 year olds to pretty old people. It was so much fun watching my dad play his instrument and trying to hear when he was playing. It was also interesting because all the Andalusian groups on TV have only men, but this group had a woman lute player as well as women singers (that are sometimes present on TV). After the Andalusian group, there was a type of music that comes from Meknes that was mostly drums and a lead singer and when they played, everyone got up and danced and sang along and a woman who said she was my neighbor came and got me to dance with her and it was so much fun. I had seen a lot of other performances, but they were performances for tourists... this was for Moroccans, and it was so cool... for the first time I felt really really Moroccan. The coolest thing was this couple that I could swear were not Moroccan originally (i.e. they were caucausians) but they were singing along the most and the woman was wearing a hijab and they really seemed liked they belonged. I hope I could ever feel that comfortable in a culture that is not originally my own. It also was a great way to bond with my dad and see what he was so passionate about. It was especially fun because I got to see people I know from the center there enjoying the music too, dancing and singing.

Toledo, a picnic, and a day wandering Madrid

On Wednesday we went to Toledo. It was beautiful, but started off rocky. My friend's guide book told us that we were supposed to go to one station, but we were supposed to go to another, and all this hecticness was made worse because I was still not feeling healthy. We finally get to Toledo which is cool because it's a little bit of Arab like Morocco mixed in with a whole lot of Spanish. We first went to the museum, and saw a bunch of El Greco which is beautiful, but a little too much religion for me. You can only take so much Jesus on the Cross. We then go to the Jewish museum which is pretty, the Synagogue is a very nice old building with a lot of Jewish artifacts. My favorite was the Jewish wedding costume that really reminded me of Moroccan clothes and realized that it was clothing from North Africa... so was it really "Jewish" or was it just the Jews assimilating with the North African culture around them? After we wrote in the book of the museum in as many languages as possible we left and had our picnic of cheese, bread, fruit, cookies, and a bottle of wine. It was so amazing... two dollar brie, one dollar wine, and it was all so good. After that we saw Alcazar (which was unfortunately closed to go in because of construction) and a beautiful look down to the river. I love mountain towns, they give such amazing views and a workout. We came home, took a siesta, and had a quick dinner.
The last day my friends went off early, and I decided to take my time and walk around the city alone. I pretty much managed to see the entirety of the central area, starting with the National Library (with its exhibit on Malaria) the Archaeological museum (which was a little disappointing, it's pretty small), and I tried to see the History museum but that was closed. I went down to a flea market, which was cool, but similar to any flea market (I like souks better, they are less antiquey and more real). It was interesting how as you got away from the touristy central, things were less nice, there was more grafitti and Spanish families. I felt like I got to see more of "real Spain." After another siesta, I went first to the Botanical Gardens (which was boring at this time of year, the park was a hundred times better) and then to the Prado again, and saw their exhibition on the pre-Raphelites... I really really like Edward Burne-Jones. He might not be the most complicated, but he's the type of art that is pretty and you'd like to have around your house. I also saw Jan Brueghel the Elder allegories of the senses which I thought were really cool.
That night I met up with my friend and went to another Kebab place (I love Kebab) and we met this really nice guy from Iraq who we compared Arabics with. He was talking to his Tunisian and Lebanese friends, and it was really cool listening to them and half understanding, but hearing the differences in dialects. I very much enjoyed Spain to visit. It has tons of art--I feel like Italy gets too much credit for being the place to study Art History, Madrid has tons of stuff. I also very much loved the park, I realize that that is one of the problems with Atlanta, there are no real public parks that you can walk to. Even Boston doesn't have cafes that you just hang out in in the sun. Maybe its not parks I miss, but plazas. Morocco does have all these outdoor places to eat, but unfortunately, too often they are men's havens and it's strange for women to be there. I also realize that no architecture is going to impress me quite as much as that of Prague. All of the buildings in Madrid were beautiful, but they didn't catch my attention as much as that of Prague, after a while they were just one nice building after another. It was also strange returning to a place I visited when I was younger, I knew I visited some places, but didn't know if the memories all really happened...

Madrid: The Palace, Modern Art Museum, Retina Park, Prado

So we arrive Sunday night too tired to do much but walk around and eat dinner. The traveling had been long... to get out of Morocco you first have to go through security to get in the airport, then you have to go through ticketing and it's not worth trying to take on a big carry on because they won't let you, and then through passport control (which takes a long time even though its on the way out!) and then through real airport security and then on the plane.
So Monday morning we go to the Royal Palace that consists of an old pharmacy (not that exciting), an armory (which shows how fat many of the kings were) and the actual palace. Maybe I'm jaded, but overall, it was mostly just overly decorated rooms. I think I've learned to like the geometrical designs of Arab culture. We also went to the new Cathedral that was just recently built and it also seemed to gaudy for me. There was too much gold, too much flashiness. After that, I was feeling sick, so I split up with my friends and went for a siesta. After that I walked to the Retina park which is gorgeous. It has lost of flowers and then a pond with lots of boats and then statues and then a building made of glass with a fountain in front of it which was gorgeous as the sunset. Then I went to the Modern Art Museum (which has another name but I forgot it) which had a really cool exhibit by a guy named Paul Thek and lots of Picasso and Dali. It was interesting seeing the Guernica in person, it wasn't as exciting as I expected, although I loved Picasso's paintings of crying women. The more modern stuff was really not that exciting (other than Paul Thek). If something is going to be weird, I want it to be really really weird, and this stuff was too tame for me. That night we went out to eat at a Kebab place (pretty much the European version of Kebab, which I love). The next day I slept in a bit because my cold was still bothering me and me and my friend just went to see the Cervantes square and walked around. After a nice Indian meal (you have no idea how exciting ethnic food is after being in Morocco) we went to the Prado which was huge, but my favorite was by far Heronymous Bosche. We didn't even see all of it when the Museum closed at 8. For dinner we went to Chinese, which was also exciting to have even though there are Chinese places in Morocco. I have learned that I love tea after being in Morocco, and was really excited to have it at both the Indian and Chinese place.

Eid al Mulad

Eid al Mulad, or the Prophet's Birthday is the only holiday that I'm in Morocco for. It isn't as important as Ramadan or Eid al-Kabir (where they sacrifice rams), but it is relatively a big deal. We got two days off of school for it (in Morocco, for any religious holiday you usually get two days off and one day off for a national holiday like the King's birthday). It reminds me a lot of Easter. There are a lot of prayers to go along with it, but mostly it is a time to dress up in your best clothes and visit family and eat sweets. Lots and lots of sweets. Yesterday, I went to Sale where they have a big parade for the holiday. It was like any big parade, with a lot of waiting for it to start and when it actually started not being able to see what was going on. There was lots of singing and dancing and then a procession of candles in big colorful boxes. Unfortunately, it was actually easier to see it when I came home and watched it on TV. Today I got pancakes for breakfast for the first time. They were covered with honey and very good, however, it was really really really sweet. Thus I couldn't drink my tea that also happened to be really really sweet. The rest of the day I spent studying, but I watched the people out in the street. Mostly today was just an extra day off. A time to go out with your family when you normally didn't have time to.

Casablanca, revisited

So I went to Casablanca again this weekend, and it was so much better than last time. First of all, I didn't ever get ripped off, which made things happier. Second of all, I actually saw a lot more of it.
I went with two of my friends to Casablanca because my friend's deaf friends from the US happened to be vacationing in Morocco and wanted to meet up with her. After a lot of confused emails, we finally did and met Friday night and had a great dinner. The next morning we woke up, had breakfast, and then headed over to the Hassan II Mosque which we hung out around until the tour started, enjoying the waves at the beach. The Mosque from the inside was amazing. It is huge (it can have 20,000 men and 5,000 women). They hide loudspeakers into the architecture and have an opening roof. In the basement, there are huge fountains for people to perform absolutions, although they are only turned on on Fridays and during Ramadan. We then when to see the Turkish Hammam which was near by (it's a huge really heated swimming pool) that has never been used because of "administrative problems." After that we tried to get directions to what I called the "New Medina" because that was what my guide book had said. It took a really long time to get our point accross because they all thought I was talking about El Jadida, a city nearby. Finally we figured it out and took a taxi there. When me and one of my friends arrived (we had to take two taxis), we couldn't find our friends, and were worried we had lost them entirely because we saw them get in a taxi right behind us. Finally we saw them in a taxi--their first one had broke down and it took them a while to get another one.
We walked around and found the best restaurant ever with a really really nice proprietress, good food, good juice, and good desserts. After a nice, relaxed lunch we walked through the "new medina" which did not look at all like a real medina because the roads were actually big enough for two cars to pass each other and it was all planned out with a big circle in the middle. Then we decided we would try walking towards our hotel. We ended up getting on one of the big streets of Casablanca during rush hour. There were so many people (i would guess in the thousands) who were all trying to buy stuff along the street while beside us the traffic moved very slowly. So we walked and walked and then realized we had to take a taxi and it ended up that we were at least 15 minutes by car from where we were trying to get. Then it was time for us to go and we took the train back. It was such a nice trip, plus I learned some ASL and had some interesting conversations about the nature of deaf people learning how to read.

Top Five Reasons You Gain Weight in Morocco

5) Sweet dinners: you can get rice with butter and sugar and milk for dinner... it's good but is more like a desert
4) $0.10 for a doughnut half again the size of a normal doughnut: The doughnut man knows what we want when me and my friends show up.
3) )$0.15 for a pack of cookies, or a small candy bar: Why say no when it's so cheap?
2) Moroccan tea: In Morocco they don't have sugar cubes, they have sugar rectangles. And you put in a rectangle and a half in a really small teapot.
1) Bread: We have bread with every single meal. And a lot of it. At least at my house it's whole wheat.

The Known in an Unknown way

Saturday afternoon I decided to go to Marjane, or the Supermarket, with my friends. It was an exciting experience, because we had been doing all our shopping in the little souk stores around the Medina and we wanted to see how it was different. Marjane is probably more like a Super Target or Walmart than a simple Supermarket. It had clothes, it had books, but even so, it was mostly food. It was interesting to see what we were most excited by: getting cheetos, seeing American candy (they have imitation american candy everywhere, but it's not the same), yogurt, but most of all, cheese. You can get Happy Cow (a soft white cheese) everywhere in the souks, and sometimes even edam, but at the supermarket there was everything, camabert, bleu cheese, goat cheese, everything. Edam is also significantly cheaper than in the US, a huge ball being only $20 rather than the $40. Whole sides of aisles were dedicated to jam. It kind of reminded me of Sweden just in that the prices looked similar (although a bit lower). It felt like a normal supermarket in someways, in other ways totally unfamiliar.
The Marjane is also one of the only places you can buy alcohol. It was interesting looking in that area, since technically Muslims aren't supposed to drink alcohol. However, everyone in that area, except for me and my friends, were Moroccan men (not a single woman).
When I talked to my parents about what they buy in the supermarket vs. in the souk, it was interesting. I first thought that they would buy most of their non-perishibles at the supermarket and their fresh goods at the souk, which was partly the case. However, they usually bought meat at the supermarket as well as things that were on sale. I think that tomatoes are cheaper at the supermarket at well, although avocados were cheaper in the souk. They also said that some things, like diapers, were actually cheaper to buy at little specialty shops. In my own experience, you really couldn't tell what would be cheaper in the souk or not. Some candies were significantly cheaper at the supermarket, other were not... it might be that imported stuff is cheaper at supermarkets....

A Moroccan Synagogue

I had wanted to go to a Moroccan Synagogue for a while, so when my friend told me she was going, I jumped at the opportunity. First a little bit about my friend, Kim. Her grandparents on her mother's side are from Iraq but had immigrated to Israel. Her mother spent most of her time in Israel, however, her dad is American Jewish and Kim spent most of her time in the US (except for a year of high school in Israel). She is Sephardic Jewish, and pretty conservative... the whole time she's been here she's been eating vegetarian so that she stays kosher (even though all meat here is hilal so they're killed in a kosher way if not blessed in a kosher way...). She actually managed to get her boyfriend to come to Morocco too on the SIT program (which is also at the same center we're studying at). So we head to the synagogue on Friday night and arrive at the unmarked, big building. We start to head inside and a guy (the [I assume] Muslim building's keeper) comes up to us asking if we're Israeli. Kim is so she said yes, and he took us up to a door and tells Kim's boyfriend to go in, he says for us to go in another door. We go in to a pretty large prayer room that has lace curtains between us and the main prayer room. There are no other women there, but the men are already in the middle of prayer. The room is beautiful, with big chandlers, pictures of old Jewish men on the walls, gilded Hebrew everywhere. I look at the prayer books and they're all in just Hebrew, with a few french sentences here and there (unlike the ones in the US that have translations). Kim finds the place that we are in the prayer book and she reads along. It was interesting, being separated from the main group, trying to see in at the mostly over 60 group of men, some wearing yamacas, some just wearing hats, who said most of the prayer and sang some songs and then, when the Sabbath prayers were over, left. No sermon, they didn't even take out the Torah, it was just prayers. It was very different than my other experiences of synagogues, but Kim said it wasn't that different than her experiences in Israel.
It's a strange relationship that Moroccans have with Jews. There are many famous Jewish Moroccans, including one of the counselors to the king. My host dad even talks about how good the Jews have been at preserving Moroccan music. In the village we went to in the desert, the Berbers had learned their silver making from the Jews who had chosen to leave. In fact, most of the time you hear a certain nostalgia for the Moroccan Jews who left. The ones who stayed seem to be a pretty old population, the majority of which are in Casablanca. However, many Israeli Moroccan Jews return for pilgrimages to the shrines of Jewish saints... in fact there's one next weekend.

Chefchaoen, Some Bargaining, Sufis and Ancestors

Our last day started lazily, since we had until noon to visit the town, and could therefore wake up when we wished. I woke up at 8:30, ate breakfast, and headed to the museum. It was a really simple museum inside an old Kasbah, but the view from the top was amazing and the garden inside was gorgeous. The actual museum only had some traditional clothing and instruments, but it made a nice addition to the beautiful Kasbah. Outside we went to the shops, which unlike other Moroccan cities sold woolen goods and straw goods (I bargained for a straw bowl for my family). After wondering around a bit we were off again to Ouazzane. In Ouazzane we went to the house of Farah, the organizer of the CCCL (the place I'm studying). There, after a wonderful meal, we got to see an olive press in action. It was especially awesome since we had seen part of the olive press in the ruins of Volubilis the day before. Farah told us a bit about Sufism. Ouazzane has 8 shrines to local saints, and a Sufi brotherhood. In the olden days, within the walls of the Sufi brotherhood one could seek asylum and work for one's keep. Ouazzane had been marginalized by the monarchy, because the monarchy saw the descendants of the saints as a possible opposing power. Farah herself had links to the Ouazzane saints, her great great grandfather was one of them who had moved to Tangier and married an English woman in the 19th century. The stories she told of her grandmother (who had still considered herself "blessed") were very interesting. After a visit to the saint's shrine and the place of the brotherhood, we boarded the bus for the last time and went back to Rabat. The excursion was over, I was tired, but I had fallen in love with Morocco.

A Very Busy Morning and a Quiet Afternoon

We left Fez and headed for Meknes the next morning. Meknes, according to our guide, only has 20 guides, compared to 60 in Fez and 2,000 in Marrakech. Therefore it was a very toned down city. In fact, I would call it the country club of Morocco, because, other than seeing an old Jewish graveyard (where there were tombs in the actual walls!) all we saw were country club things: a stud farm and a golf course (INSIDE the walls of the old castle!). Then we headed for Volubilis, or Oualili (Walili) as the Arabs call it. It was the last outpost of the Romans in Africa, and there are most of the ruins of the city. There are mosaics that are still visible after almost two millennia. We then went to the sister city of Moulay Idriss right beside it. It reminded me of a Greek town, being on a hill and having all the streets on an incline. We ended up at a family house that also served as a restaurant and hostel that served amazing food. Then we had lunch on the roof and had an amazing view of the town, mountains, and even a waterfall. We drove another 4 hours to Chefchaoen, which we weren't to see the stunning light blue of until the next day.

A Bus Ride and Fez

The next day was a very long bus ride, broken up by a stop at a hotel in Erfoud where we eat a nice lunch and sunbathe. We don't arrive at Fez until almost nine and fall asleep after not so good Spanish food since we're tired of Moroccan food (all hotels have very similar Moroccan tagines for their specialties). The next day we go on a guided tour of Fez. We start out at the palace which is pretty, but similar to many of the other gates we have seen (and will see). We go to the Mellah (or Jewish Quarter) nearby, which has a different architecture than that of the Muslim quarter because it actually has decoration on the outside. A strong feature of all the Muslim architecture in Morocco is relatively plain outsides (you have no idea which houses are the rich ones from the outside) and gorgeous decorated insides, with the most beautiful ceilings. We then head to a synagogue which still has a torah and a hole in the ground leading to the place where the holy water is kept. We load up into the bus and go up to a hill where we can see the entirety of Fez. The city is around the same size as Rabat, but is much older, and was the seat of the Almovid Dynasty. We head to the Medina (which we have a guide for, it's the biggest Medina in the country, and quite windy) and head through the food section (there were lamb's heads!) through the dyer's section (they only use natural dyes: saffron for yellow, henna for red, indigo for blue, mint for green) and end up at the tannery. It is amazing to look down at them tanning hides the old fashioned way, using pigeon's droppings to treat it at first and dying them with natural dyes. Again bargaining ensued and my friends left with leather sandals costing $20. We go to lunch and then head to a place where they weave cloth, which is awesome to watch. We returned to the hotel and just hung around. I really love Fez's Medina. It is a little touristy, but it has so much to watch and is so much more authentic then Marrakech.

Making up for Lost Time

The next day some people woke up for the sunrise; I was not one of them, I love sleep a little too much. After breakfast we loaded back on the jeeps and returned to where our bus was. We took the bus to the kasbah we were supposed to visit earlier. It was cool going through the old kasbah and seeing an old Jewish quarter complete with a tiny mosque (although no Jews are around any more) and then some Berbers carrying on the Jewish silver making tradition that they had learned from the Jews who had left for Israel. It was amusing watching my friends bargain, we're all trying to get better at it and could usually get it down to at least half the price. I ended up getting a hand of Fatima, which is actually known as a symbol of the strong relationship between Muslims and Jews in Morocco because the Jews would make them and the Muslims would buy them. The hand is to ward off the evil eye. I would have enjoyed it more if I hadn't been feeling sick all morning, and to tell the truth I was happy to get back to the bus and sit down. We then stopped at another village where we saw a library that housed many medieval Arabic works and then a pottery village. It is amazing that they still use pottery wheels moved by feet. It was also cool to see the kilns they use after talking about it in Archaeology. This is how they've been making pottery for hundreds of years. After some more shopping we head to lunch at a beautiful hotel (where some of my friends again decide to jump into the pool to get the grime of sand off) and after another flat tire, we don't arrive at N'Kob until sunset. It is a beautiful town of kasbahs (fortified buildings) and it was probably the nicest hotel we stayed at although the shower and bathroom were outside. After some tea by the fireplace we head to bed since it's early rising in the morning.

Camels, a Fire, and The Saharan TV

After lunch, we finally load up into the jeeps to go to the desert (after a stop and a spontaneous dance party). Our jeeps leave the regular road and start off into the desert. We fly over dunes and race the other jeeps... Suddenly we come upon our camp. It is a circle of tents, with a big one at its head. In the center there is a camp fire and over to the side there is a bath room that actually has a ceramic toilet in it (although the running water doesn't work). Our tent has four mattresses and is gorgeously decorated with cloths and carpets. We rush off to our camels since the sun is about to set. Riding a camel is very different than riding a horse or a donkey. First of all, you get on while the camel is sitting down, so the most exciting part is when the camel gets up. Second of all, it's gait is highly uncomfortable. It was fun though, going towards the sunset, playing in the sand, finally getting to see desert that did not have any vegetation (I felt so strange, I should be happy to see vegetation; vegetation is life, yet I wanted to see the desert I had only seen in movies, the kind that really was only sand. We come back and already there are the musicians. I have never heard anything quite like it. The only instruments were drums, yet there was a lot of yelling, dog noises, the really loud sound that women make in Arabic countries... I don't know if that makes any sense, but it was cool. After that we have dinner and meet a Swiss man who has decided to explore the desert for 10 days by himself (he has a guide and three camels, but he didn't come with anyone). What struck me when talking to him was his surprise that Americans would come to Morocco to study Arabic. I didn't realize that even Europeans think of us as ignorant and unwilling to learn. After dinner there was more music, and then our guides took out their drums and the two boys in our group took out their guitars and we played music around the fire. I was slightly distracted by what I was later told was called the Saharan TV... the stars in the night sky. I finally understand why the milky way is called the milky way. It makes you realize just how few stars one normally sees in the night sky, especially in places like Atlanta or Boston.

A Few Snags

We headed to the Erg Lihoudi Desert the next day, piled into our little bus. Suddenly, we get off the road. We get out, wondering what has happened when we see one of the back tires, it has totally blown out. We happen to be beside a hill, so we decide to start climbing it while the tire is being changed. A bunch of us make it up to the top. But then the feat was coming back down... it was sand and small rocks that slipped, so you had to get down very slowly. The tire got changed and then the jeeps that were supposed to take us into the desert met us to pick us up earlier. So we pile into the jeeps and speed off. Suddenly we turn around and go exactly the same way we came from. I'm wondering what's going on when we come upon one of the other jeeps. It has broken down. We try to figure out how to fit about 20 people into two jeeps when finally we get the third jeep working. By then we're running supper late, so although we had planned to see a pottery village and a kasbah (fortified town) we go straight to the Nomad's house for dinner. We listened to him speak, and it was interesting that they were still able to keep their way of life while mixing it with the demands of modern life. For example, the sons would go off to school and live in a settled village while the older boys still herded camels. The fact that these nomads still herded camels is surprising because the art is dying out, since not many people want camels anymore. It was interesting, one of the nephews of the head nomad began to speak with one of the boys in my group in Dareja, and my friend was having trouble understanding, so I helped translate, yet even though I was speaking better, the guy spoke to my friend more--I feel it was because I was a girl and the divide between men and women is even stronger in that society. We did not see one woman at the nomad's house.

A Bumpy Ride

The next day we wake up bright and early after a late night to get on the bus. I've only slept 3 hours, but I expect that I would be able to sleep on the bus since we have a 4 hour bus ride until lunch and then another 5 hours until we get to Zagora, the gateway to the desert. I manage to doze off for a while when suddenly I am jarred awake. We are in the mountains. We are climbing and descending mountains--there is no way I am going to be able to sleep. So I stay up and I watch as my surroundings change. It is the first time I really feel like it's winter in Morocco, there are patches of snow and an icy bite to the air, but it still feels more like early spring than winter. If I were a poet, i would be able to describe those mountains, but I guess it suffices to say that they changed continuously. Sometimes they were big piles of black dirt, sometimes they were jagged peaks. After lunch I managed to go back to sleep and when I woke up, we were no longer in the mountains, we had arrived to the desert. It was the outer desert, so there were still plants and it wasn't all sand, so it reminded me of my disappointment with the Arizona desert. I saw too much green. I wanted the Sahara I had seen in Lawrence of Arabia. Eventually we arrived at our gorgeous hotel in Zagora that had a pool (that one of my friends was crazy enough to swim in). We all eagerly anticipated riding camels the next day.

Marrakech

We were going to Marrakech with the SIT group (the other students at the center we study at), and we all met at 7:30 to get on the bus. When we get out there we see two charter buses and then an 18 person van. We expect one of the other groups to get on the small bus because we were having the longer trip, but no, the 14 of us, plus our coordinator, plus our driver pile into the bus. We were to know it well during the next 8 days. Let me tell you, it was not the most comfortable ride I've had.
Our first stop was Marrakech, one of the so called imperial cities because it was founded as the seat of one of Morocco's monarchies. Marrakech has a reputation for being the place to go in Morocco and there are lots and lots and lots and lots of tourists. I think it's that reason that I didn't like it. There is a beautiful plaza outside the medina that has restaurants, storytellers, snake charmers, tamed monkeys, and henna artists. At night it becomes a huge crowd of people, and although it's easy to assume they're mostly tourists, the storytellers are speaking in Arabic, and entice mostly Arabic men. We also went to an old medresa, which were the dorms for those who studied at the Quranic school. It was a beautiful building, but the rooms were small and those that did not have light must have been quite dark and cramped for those students back in the day. The museum was ok, but nothing special, although there was an exhibition of paintings of Berbers that was quite nice. That night we went to a night club which was fun, but expensive. Overall, I felt like I was seen more as a dollar sign than as a person by most of the people in Marrakech, although I did meet some nice guys, including a guy who did amazing calligraphy.

Excursion

This is going to come in many parts, because we went to about 12 different cities in Morocco in less than 8 days, there were mountains and deserts, cities and villages, ruins and monuments. One moment you can be looking at cacti in snow topped mountains and an hour later you can be looking at trees in the desert. It was beautiful, if exhausting, and made me fall in love with Morocco all over again. Some overall impressions before I get into the specifics: there seems to be two different macro cultures in Morocco, that of the north and cities, and another of the south and deserts. Even in smaller places up north the hijab was the standard international one and the food and bread was relatively similar. Down south, women started wearing more traditional veils, they kept more away from strangers, and there seemed to be much more African as opposed to Middle Eastern influence.

Something I'll never get used to

I think the hardest thing to accept about here are the street people, but not just that there are beggars and that there are child beggars, but more that many of them have diseases that I never see in the US. There are blind people with strange things that have happened to their eyes, people with legs that never grew to full size, and elaphantitis (I think that's what it's called, when there are strange tumors). I suppose they exist in the US, but they're better hidden. This is a country with perfectly good medicine, but I suppose the poor here can't afford it.

A Beautiful Day

After almost two weeks of rain, we finally got a beautiful day. We met to go to chellah, the old Roman ruins in Rabat at noon, but we had to wait for friends. I decided to go with a friend to a cafe to help her find a lonely Dutch girl she had met and invite her to come with us. Unfortunately, we were too late. We decided to walk because my friend said she knew where it was. We asked for directions and finally we came to a marketplace we had never seen before. We thought we were lost, but then we saw a sign that said "Bab Chellah" and we thought we were there. We ask for directions towards the ruins and come upon the Qasbah (the fort) rather than Roman ruins. A nice guy who spoke English said that we were in the wrong area and had to take a taxi. My friend decided to go home, but I still wanted to meet my other friends at Chellah. I stood there for a while, trying to hail a taxi but there were none going by. Eventually I started walking the beautiful way down beside the river. Suddenly I saw ruins... I was so excited. It was a beautiful garden and had the unfinished miniaret that a 10th century Sultan had commissioned to be built but had never been finished. I called up my friends... was I at the right place? It seemed that I wasn't, so I kept walking. I'm a little annoyed that I'm lost and can't find a taxi around a tourist place where they should be, but it's beautiful and the weather is beautiful and I'm happy all the same. Finally I find a taxi and make it to Chellah. The ruins are beautiful, we could sit on the old stones and just sunbathe. There was an old mosque to explore, and beautiful gardens. To be comfortably relaxing in the sun (with a light sweater) in the beginning of February is amazing.

Adventures in Cooking

I had decided to make my family something special to thank them, and I thought that Saffron bread would be perfect, since saffron is cheaper here and it's so very Swedish. So I went out to get the ingredients. It's so fun going to a little shop and asking for a half kilo of sugar and flour and the thing that makes bread get bigger (I had no idea how to say yeast). Then I went and watched someone measure out a gram of saffron for me. It was so much fun... I got very confused when milk seemed to be 85 dirhams, and then I realized that it was 8.50 and I felt very silly. The most expensive was the 500 grams of butter, which ended up being a little over 3 dollars. For the sugar, flour and salt, I payed all of 85 cents. It was amazing.
So I go home to cook, and my mom watches and I teach her to make some cool designs. I'm a little worried, since the dough hadn't risen all that much, but I hope that it had risen enough. It didn't. It seems that I accidently killed the yeast because I was working with fresh yeast and used way to warm milk. It was really sad because when I cooked them, they ended up not cooking on the inside and it was awful and didn't taste good and overall no good. Now I know how important yeast is...

Buying a djellaba

So I've been wanting a djellaba for the entire time I've been here...
Let met tell you what a djellaba is: it is the traditional Moroccan dress. It is a robe that has a pointed hood and wide sleeves and a decoration down the front. I promise that I will eventually have pictures...
So I had been seeing them in the medina, occasionally asking for prices. I got answers that varied anywhere from 300 to 800 dirhams (i.e. 35 dollars to 100 dollars). I decided I wanted a nice one, but I wasn't going to wear it enough to warrant buying an expensive one. So I started trying them on... some were beautiful but of the wrong material, others were just too expensive. So eventually I found it... of course I'm me, and I wanted something that goes with everything and therefore I got black with white decoration. It was obviously not hand made but it was beautiful and I got it for just 300 dirhams. Moreover, the ladies I bought it from were a lot nicer than the ones that I had talked to before; plus, I think I accidently bargained down from 350 by not understanding that they were saying 350 and thinking they said 300.

The Hamam

Yesterday I went to the hamam or public bath. It was quite an experience. So we went in and first we rent a stool and buy an exfoliating scrubbing glove thingy and some special soap. The hamam itself costs a bit over a dollar and the soap maybe 8 cents). Then we go in the outer room and get naked... everything except our bottom underwear. We get a bucket, take in the stuff we need to clean with, and leave our stuff with some people for safekeeping (for a fee of course... but only a dirham... i.e 15 cents). We go in and everyone is naked except for bottoms. I've never seen so many naked women... and I realize the ones I have seen have been in really good shape (i.e. on tv). It was kind of refreshing to see women of all shapes and sizes. So we end up deciding on the hottest room... and begin the scrubbing. So much dead skin... I don't think I was ever this clean in my life. We keep scrubbing and pouring the hot water that we've gotten in our buckets from taps over ourselves. It's wonderful, for about an hour. Then I start overheating. Around this time, though, we've all finished scrubbing so we decide to leave. That was a quick hamam experience. Sometimes you're there for 3 hours. I want to stay longer, however, I'm not going to be in the hottest room again. I feel like such a dirty person for putting on dirty pjs (I haven't done my laundry yet...) after getting so clean. Still, I fell like I'll be clean for days and days. Coming out of the hamam is almost like being reborn...

A Moroccan Art Exhibit

Today I went to a Moroccan Art Exhibit that had been organized with the help of the Italian Consulate to show the art of North Africans who had gone to Italy. What struck me the most was that all of the information was in Italian and French, but that there was no Arabic. The paintings themselves either had no signature, a Latin signature, or both an Arabic and Latin signature, never one by itself. It seems that somehow, art has been taken over by the West even though the whole point of the exhibition was to give expression to the feelings of intolerance, etc. felt by North Africans in Italy. Most of the art was very much like any modern art that you would find... the only one that struck me as really Arab was an artist that plays with the idea of Arabic calligraphy. Of course the themes throughout the paintings were that of what is the Arab city vs. the Mediterranean city etc. You could see art that resembled Picasso and others that were more minimalist or even a impressionist looking still life.
It got me thinking... do more Moroccans know how to read Fus'ha or French? Is the exhibit elitist to only have the descriptions in French or does any one who is literate able to read French? This question of language still bothers me. I wish I knew enough to know which dialects were being used on TV at all times...

More about languages

I sort of feel sorry for dareeja... although Moroccans are adamant about learning their mother tongue, it is hardly used in formal life. On TV, you'll hear fusha (the Standard Arabic) or Egyptian colloquial because they make all the movies or even French on the Moroccan channels (especially when they're talking about art). The only time dareeja is on TV is for silly Moroccan soap operas or sitcoms. Otherwise, even the other colloquials win over. The sad part is that the Berber language is already dying out, so I wonder how strong dareeja will remain. Moreover, the rest of the Arab world looks down on dareeja because it's supposedly the most different from "Qur'anic Arabic" but Egyptian Arabic is pretty different too but has taken over Arab cinema. Even I've said that Moroccan Arabic is relatively useless... however a big part of the Arab world (Morocco, Algeria, Libya, and Tunis) speaks it...

Casablanca

I suppose I should say a little about the good parts of the trip after I got out all my ranting.
On Friday, after class we took the train to Casablanca. Of course, just as we arrive there is crazy rain. I know that the hotel we're going to is close enough to walk to, but we can't decide whether or not to take a taxi or not. It stops raining and we end up walking to the hotel. It's the cheapest recommended hotel in my guide book, but its not too bad other than that the toliets are in the hallway and there isn't always toliet paper, but for 7 dollars a person, I really can't complain.
After that we wandered the city some, it is a lot like NYC in that there are people everywhere and lots of shops and more tourism. The medina has a totally different feel than the one in Rabat, and the whole place seems to cater to a richer crowd. After we had stopped at a cafe, we go home to the hotel to change to go out to dinner and a club. We go to Ain Daib, a suburb of Casablanca by the beach although at this time of year its not that beachy and it was raining and... needless to say we stayed inside as much as possible, going to a restaraunt with an awesome atmosphere but pricey and not the greatest food and then to a club that we just ended up happening upon (after not going to one that was really expensive... here the girls got in free and got a free drink). It had "house" music, which is a bit like techno and not that great, but it was fun anyway. Since we were a big group of 10 ( although only 2 of them are boys) it was just fun to dance with the group. Its strange, for how "forward" guys are in the street, they really aren't at all in clubs, in fact, if any girl in our group wanted to dance with a boy she usually had to approach him. I even had a guy ask me to dance with his brother (I pretended I didn't know French and they went away). Strange.
The next day we woke up and went to a cafe for a 2.50 dollar breakfast that included bread, eggs, fresh orange juice, and tea/coffee. After that we walked through the medina (which as I said before was not as nice as Rabat's) and went to the Hassan the II Mosque, which is gorgeous. Its the second biggest Mosque in the world and although we didn't get to go inside (we missed the tour) it was amazing from the outside.
Then we took the train home and I had my issues with the conductor.

Getting Screwed over in Morocco

This weekend I went to Casablanca and learned some important lessons:
1) Always have the meter running in a cab; they will always overcharge you otherwise... we had to pay 100 dinars to leave a club at night while our friends paid 50... we thought that that was the night price. On the same note... the taxis waiting at a tourist spot is much more likely to try to screw you over... we learned that sometimes you just have to get out of the taxi.
2) NEVER get round trip tickets for the train; they only work on the day of your ticket and the conductor AND supervisor will not care. It seems that in Morocco, the customer is always wrong. We even had a nice Moroccan try to help us but it did not work. Me and my friend had to pay an extra 37 dinars (only 4.50 in dollars, but still)
3) Don't go with people who take you to a place they know... they're always going to take you to the most expensive place and where they have friends. People in Morocco are nice, but if they see you as a tourist, they're going to try to make you spend money.
All in all, even getting screwed over for the taxi and train (of course they both happened to me...) I probably spent 65 dollars for a night at a hotel, a fancy dinner, train to and from Casablanca, a club and a few drinks, breakfast, and ice cream. That at least makes me feel a little better.

Thoughts about the hijab

It's interesting, when I walk in the street with a scarf on my head, even though it doesn't cover my ears and is therefore obviously not a hijab, I don't get hardly any harassment from guys, but when I wear a hat I get quite a few more.
I asked my mom why she didn't wear hijab and she said because she wasn't courageous enough--she could lose her job at the Spanish embassy if she wore one. She said very strongly that in Islam, the hijab is obligatory.
The fun thing is seeing all the different styles. I saw a woman who wore her scarf like I did, showing her ears. I see other ones that have bangs in front. All of this is really weird since the common perception is that the hijab is supposed to hide women's beauty and thus their ears and hair.
It's kind of interesting how obsessed the West is with the hijab. Why don't we get as obsessed about Jews wearing yamacas? If I were Muslim, I would probably wear a hijab simply because its simpler. Not having to deal with hair, having an extra accessory to match with clothes, getting less harrassment, being able to hold hands with your boyfriend in public without being looked down on... there doesn't really seem to be a reason not to wear the hijab.

Studying in Morocco vs. in the US

It's interesting learning about the same stuff from a Moroccan professor than from an American professor. First of all, they are much more interested in the theories of discourse, even in an intro class. They are very aware of the effect that different interests, be they colonial, national, or otherwise have on the view of the Arab World. I realized one of the major weapons that the West has had over so much of the rest of the world: the ability to shape discourse. Even when the rest of the world tried to retake the discourse, they did it in such a way as to go against the Western discourse directly, which still meant that it was shaped by how the West saw the East. Now things are changing, but the west has already created the definitions that the rest of the world has to work with. What is a tribe? What is a nation state? What defines feminism? Why has the veil become central to discourse on Arab feminism? It is amazing that the assumptions that I, as a westerner, have taken for granted have been adopted by non-western academics as well...

Thoughts about living in a host family

Its strange finding out about people's host families and how they're different from mine. Some clicked immediately, but that was usually because there was a person their age for them to hang out with. I don't quite know my place. Today my mom's uncle was sick and my dad, mom, and brother went to go visit him. I feel like, as part of the family I should go to, but then I've never met this person, so I didn't. What is my relationship. They keep telling me I don't have to do things around the house, but I'm part of the family, so I should. Today I did the dishes. It made me feel less of a guest. I feel like part of the problem is culture, I just don't know what's important to them, the other problem is language. I'm silent most of the time because its so hard to talk. And when they talk to each other i don't understand. Moreover, I'm twenty one years old. I feel slightly awkward living in my own parents home and figuring out how much I'm supposed to hang out with them... here its even harder. Should I go in my room and read a book, or should I try to watch a movie in Arabic that I don't understand just to be sociable. I suppose I should start trying to initiate conversations more, the only problem is it takes so long to express even simple ideas that its hard. I feel like I am picking up more of the language though, so I'm hoping for a moment where everything clicks. Maybe it won't, but I know it will get better.

Political discussions

I've been asking my family what they think of Obama and it's been interesting to hear their reply. They seem to believe very strongly that the president of the US is indirectly the president of the world, which I can understand, the funny thing is that they believe that any president of the US will work only for the US interests--and politics is politics. I suppose they are right, but they don't seem to believe that US interests can be pursued in multiple ways. And that Obama might change that way. Maybe its me being the idealist--but it would be a depressing thought if Obama conducted himself in world politics the same way that Bush did.
It's also interesting about Gaza. Everyone I've talked to here, be it the cofounder of the program, my history teacher, or my host parents, they seem to think (at least emotionally) that all of the West is supporting Israel in a sort of our tribe against your tribe sort of way. I understand the feeling, and yes some of the governments are really pro-Israel, but it's really much more complicated than that. In fact, I feel like there are quite a few European countries that are pro-Israel, and that the western media reaction has not been that pro-Israel either, yet the Moroccans still seem to feel that it's another clash of West against East, not simply a clash of Israel vs. Palestine.
On that note, though, it's interesting to see how Moroccans view Jews. There seemed to have been a very big population of Jews in Morocco, that left not because they were kicked out, but because Israel offered incentives for them to come to Israel. Moroccan Jews even have a relatively good relationship to the Moroccan government, because when the vichy government controlled it and the Germans wanted the Vichy government to send the Jews of Morocco, the King of Morocco said "We have no Jews, only Moroccans." There was even a Jew at a pro-Gaza demonstration that said he didn't like Israel because it had stolen away his family. Because of this large Jewish population, it seems that Moroccans have a slightly better ability to separate Jews from Israel, compared to the rest of the Arab world.

Dareeja

I came to Morocco expecting to be slightly confused by the Moroccan dialect, but it's entirely different. The vocab is different, the conjugation is different--it's like I learned Latin and am expected to understand French. That's what amazes me about the Moroccans. Not only do the speak Dareeja, their mother tongue, but they learn to read Fusha (Modern Standard Arabic--what I'm learning) and listen to it on TV. Then they know French (if they're educated) and usually one other language. And that's relatively normal, especially if you're less than 35 years old.

Cleanliness

Moroccans have a very different sense of clean than we do. They think we are dirty because we don't get ourselves scrubbed at the Hamam. On the otherhand, they only change their clothes once or twice a week unless they're going out and they sometimes only wash when they go to the Hamam. My little brother didn't have his clothes changed until 4 days after I met him...

Eating, Moroccan Style

In Morocco, you eat with your hands. Not really just with your hands but with bread. It's actually not that hard, it's just that you end up eating a lot of bread because every time you eat something you take a small piece of bread to eat it with. It is actually kind of fun, but you get really messy fingers and it's really frustrating when you've ran out of bread and there's still more food. It's also interesting because we'll have meat at meals, but only a very small portion and lots more vegetables. I also can't tell if it's healthy or not, since we're eating so much bread and lots of things with oil but I eat a lot of vegetables. We'll see if I gain or lose weight.

Mahmoud

Mahmoud (my host brother) and I didn't get off to the best start. Nezha had to go to the souk (market) and Mahmoud was sleeping, so he stayed in with me. Of course, right after she left, he woke up, and found himself alone with a stranger. At first he just sat there looking at me. I realized that I really hadn't been around 18 month year olds much. I knew that for babies you held them and sang to them and they were happy, and for older kids, talk to them, play with them, etc. So I tried holding him, that made him cry, so I set him down and tried playing with toys. For a while he would be happy, and then he'd get uncomfortable again and start crying.
For all that bad introduction, he is so cute. He can run around and say about 4 words, mama, baba, mimi, and nini. The first and second are mama and papa, the third is his word for food and the fourth is his word for sleep. He runs around and plays with his toys which are mostly small plastic ones. I was very confused by this until I realized that his dad works at McDonald's and most of the toys are from there. Interestingly absent are baby books and kid plates and silverware. When he eats food, he just uses a normal teaspoon and drinks out of a normal cup (although he has a bottle for milk). One of the only toys that is not from McDonald's is a toy violin which he loves, and I'm sure he's going to be a musician like his father. It's strange watching how Nezha interacts with him, since it's quite different than how my siblings interact with their kids. For instance, when he does something bad, she usually softly slaps him. She also doesn't seem to keep quite as vigilant a watch on him as I'm used to, and isn't quite as wary of small objects. I hope that soon he considers me part of the family... even now he smiles at me and my heart melts.

Moroccan TV

When we were given a seminar about living about our host family, they called the TV another member of the family. it really is. They have it on ALL THE TIME. What amazes me is how many channels they have. They have channels with American movies, they have music channels, they have religious channels. In one night, I saw a religious musical performance, music videos, and three different American movies. Although they're not really paid attention to. It's more like it just has to be on. Today as soon as Nezha entered the building, she put the TV on. The strangest thing to me are the music videos. They have credits at the end (which I don't think that I've ever seen at the end of American ones, they have a bar at the bottom that you can text to, but the most interesting thing is what they wear. The women are just as half naked as in American music videos which is especially strange because no one wears those kinds of things in real life.
American movies are also strange to see here. I was watching Beauty Shop and it was just strange to think that this is how the rest of the world sees America, through the movies. I don't feel like they do a very good job at all of showing how life actually is. Also interesting is that they have the cuss words in English, but don't translate them into cuss words in the subtitles. If there's a sex scene, they'll show it if it's not graphic, but if it is, they let you listen to it, but not see it. It seems like a silly thing, since they let you hear it but that's how it is.
I'll probably keep writing on this because it seems very strange to me.

First Impression

Yesterday, I met my host mother and father. The mother (Nezha) came to the center and picked me up. I tried to talk to her but it was hard going and I managed to learn the Darija (or Moroccan Arabic) word for rain, but didn't get much farther. She couldn't speak English, but she could speak Spanish. However, I wanted to practice my Arabic. We got to the house and her husband (Abdelatif) introduced himself. He works at McDonalds (which I think is a much better job than it is in the US because Moroccans actually take people out on dates there because it's relatively expensive compared to Moroccan standards). His wife works at the Spanish embassy, but I could not understand what she did. He could speak pretty good English and kept speaking it even though I tried to answer him back in Arabic. I didn't get to meet their little boy, though, since he was at his grandmother's.
The house is two stories, with one room and a terrace upstairs and then a living room, a bedroom for my host parents, and a big room with a curtain that I can use half of and close the curtain when I'm changing and sleeping. There is a rather small kitchen, with a stove and a small oven, and then a refrigerator out in the hall. The bathroom is pretty small, but has a movable shower head. However, I don't see where the drain is, so I have no idea how to take a shower yet. I guess I'll ask them today.
Nezha made sure that I understood that they had a one and a half year old, and that I should make sure to put away all fragile things and close my suitcases, and if someone went through my stuff it was not her but her son who thinks anything is a toy. After Abdelatif had made sure in English that I understood, he went to his music lesson and I was left with Nezha. We sat on the couch for a while and then she took out her camera and showed me pictures, and I showed her pictures of my family. It was very good, she mostly used Arabic and I practiced a lot. However, she never seemed to think I understood it and would keep explaining way after I understood what she was talking about, even changing into Spanish. It's funny, I have taken just as much Arabic as Spanish, but I understand the Spanish way better, maybe because I learned it when I was younger, but probably because of the cognates (oh how I miss cognates). It's so funny to listen to her because I learned the Spanish of the Americas, and she speaks Spanish Spanish, so she has a lisp that I knew about, but had never really heard before.
It was sad, she was showing pictures of one of the most important Muslim holidays when they sacrifice a ram, and she said, "I am a Muslim, but I'm not a terrorist." It's sad that it's gotten to the point where Muslims believe that Americans equate Muslims with terrorists. It was fun going through her pictures, but she had almost 200 of them and trying to keep up with the Arabic was rather exhausting. I learned that she was only 28, quite young to be my "mother," I don't mind though, because I'll get to play with a toddler the whole time.
She went then to go cook, and Abdelatif came back soon after. He was talking in English, and I did not have the energy to tell him to do otherwise (it was already 9pm by that time and orientation week was very long...) He told me about how he played Andalusian music, and played the Violin, Viola, a traditional Moroccan string instrument that only has two strings, and even the tamborine. He showed me a video of him playing in his music group (honestly I don't like Andalusian music that much), and then played some music on his viola, that he actually plays while sitting on his knee (so it sort of looks like he's playing a mini-bass). He talked about how in Andalusian music they have 11 scales, with 24 variations which is quite a lot, considering that Western classical music has only 2 scales, with 4 variations. He played me a bit of this and that, and I liked the Berber the most. I'm pretty sure that we were put together because of our shared love of music and the fact that Nezha can speak Spanish.
This is Abdelatif's 7th time hosting a student, and Nezha's 4th, and I can tell the little ways that they understand what I might expect. They didn't have toilet paper yesterday (Moroccans use water instead), but this morning there was some. They had a spoon to eat with, and bread to eat the Moroccan way, and I couldn't tell whether they normally ate this way or if it was for me.
I feel like I'm getting a very different experience than some of my fellow classmates because I'm in such a small, young family. They have a washing machine, shower, and western toilet. There are only three of us who eat. Nezha has taught Abdelatif, she cooks, so he clears the table. I was wondering if that meant that he also did the dishes, but he doesn't. However, the fact that he enters the kitchen makes him (from what I heard) different than many Moroccan men. Nezha doesn't wear the hijab, and from the pictures of her family, it seems like none of them do, which is interesting, since quite a few families have a few women who wear the hijab. The house, though, is the one that Abdelatif was born in, so it obviously has been renovated throughout his life. Nezha is from Sale though, and that's where her mother still remains.
It was awkward at first, but I like them both, and although I am disappointed that I won't be able to experience the way a more traditional Moroccan home works, I will get to experience a modern one and see what the younger generation is retaining and what they no longer have. It is obvious that one of the biggest changes is the number of children. Both Nezha and Abdelatif have at least 4 siblings, yet only have one son. Although they may still have more children, I very much doubt it will be as many.
Overall, I am happy to be here, although I hope I can manage to make them use Arabic rather than English/Spanish with me. I wonder if the son will be a help, although all the words he knows right now are mom, dad, sleep and eat. We'll see...

Haggling

In Morocco, I live in this area with a huge Souk, or market, and you can get every thing, saffron, artichokes, meat, clothes, toys, you name it. So yesterday we had this haggling exercise where we got 10 dirham (~$1.20) to buy something with. I was so proud of myself, I bought a yoyo that was originally 20 dirham for 10. Today, on the other hand, I found this beautiful scarf that was originally 60 dirham and I immediately said 55 dirham, which I got. I feel silly because he accepted so fast that I should have haggled some more. It's funny, I feel like I lost some sort of game and he made me buy something for more than it's worth. Oh well, I suppose I'm still a tourist and it was a learning experience. My friend had an even more interesting experience when she tried to haggle something down from 15 dirhams to 10 dirhams and instead of saying "10" in Arabic, or "ashra" she said "ashrine" which means 20, which led to quite an interesting interaction. Luckly she only had to pay 15 dirhams for it anyway. I hope to be able to haggle like a Moroccan by the time I leave and live up to my Middle Eastern roots.

Coincidences

Random coincidences: There are two people who have studied abroad in Turkey and thus speak Turkish. There's another Sephardic Jew (I haven't met one in ages). The BU director went to study and Sweden and thus speaks Swedish, as does another girl who also speaks Swedish. Thus, although we can't necessarily speak to each other in Arabic, people in the group could have a conversation in Turkish or Swedish or French or Spanish. Small world, isn't it.

Ode to Morocco Food

We have been provided with four meals (other than the croissant at breakfast) and the food is amazing. I was expecting amazing clementines since I knew the ones we got in America were from Morocco, but I wasn't expecting the delicious oranges and fresh orange juice. i don't know if I'll ever be happy with American oranges/clementines again.
The center provides us with a buffet for every meal. Surprisingly, we only had couscous at one of them. The vegetarian selection is huge,during four meals, we have had pumpkin, green beans, white beans, turnips, beets, and all cooked in ways I'd never had them before. I am surprised that they don't use pita here, but the white bread they cook is perfect and always in large supply. The food is actually very different than the usual middle eastern food, although the predominance of beans and lamb is similar to the Egyptian and Lebanese food I've had. Not only is the food delicious, it's really healthy, we don't eat hardly any boring carbs other than a little bread, rice, or couscous and so many vegetables. For dessert there is always fresh fruit, I don't know that I've had hardly any sweets since I was here. I have yet to see how my host mother will cook, but I am very, very excited. I only wish that BU food were half as good...

Arrival

So after thinking I couldn't get to Morocco because I didn't have a visa I didn't need (and the Delta lady being stupid) I made it to Boston and met the others on my group flight and got through Air France no problem. The plane was old, so we didn't get any TV or anything, and I of course got the middle seat. We had a 6 hour lay over in Paris and got to Morocco yesterday.
After unpacking in our temporary hotel a brief orientation and a wonderful dinner I crashed and slept for 10 hours--the night was really cold.
Today was fun, after some boring orientation stuff and lunch we went on a bus tour of Rabat. It's amazing how much is being developed. Some of the buildings were only months old and there is building everywhere. Although the outskirts near the airport was pretty rural, this is a energetic modern city. In the medina, though, there is a huge marketplace that sells everything, from pirated DVDs to snails to TVs to clothes.
The center where we're having classes is beautiful in the Moorish style. The people seem really on top of things even though we're the pilot program.
Last thing today we got dropped off somewhere in Rabat and had to make it back to the center by ourselves... I actually was the first one back and managed to get help from a nice lady who gave me her phone number and said I could come over sometime... It was so much fun.