Hello to all of you! I hope this past week has been a good one for you! For me, the week has been a week of several new social and sensory experiences. Monday’s main event was a football (soccer ) match on the beach with fellow CCCL students and a few locals. Before I go any further with details about the match, I should describe to you the extent of my football skills…I have none. While I managed to be alright as a defender, when it came to forging an offensive, I was fatally distracted by the volleyball match going on next door and the impressive ocean/beach scenery. My eight year old Moroccan teammate was not amused. In my defense, however, deep sand is not conducive to footie. So yes, I was on the losing team. Paddling in the cool ocean afterwards was fun though-I was tempted to redeem myself by showing off some swimming skills…I thought better of it though as I watched the massive waves smacking against the shore. Best not to get caught in an undercurrent whilst swimming off the coast of Morocco-Mummy wouldn’t like that.
Right, so while Monday was fairly ordinary, Tuesday stands as a landmark day in my Moroccan experience thus far. After a relatively intense two hours of Arabic, I returned home around five to find my sister and a close family friend waiting to take me to the himmam. I threw my toiletries in the communal bucket, grabbed some cash and a change of clothes and headed off to the public baths with them. When you first enter the himmam, you are in the changing area-a section with benches against the wall where women sit and chat, either undressing for a bath or drying off after spending an hour or so going between the three different rooms that constitute the traditional Moroccan bathhouse. The first room is the least steamy, while the third room is comparable to a sauna. My sister told me to undress and then the three of us made our way to the back room. It was hot and steamy with a large tap pouring forth very hot water into a large basin against the wall. I have never been particularly uncomfortable about communal nudity (I find it quite reassuring actually), so when I found myself surrounded by several naked Moroccan women, I wasn’t overcome by discomfort. Many of them were either sitting on mats surrounded by buckets of water or were at the pump collecting water for their baths. The close family friend also known as Kadaicha was quick to sit me down on a mat and surround me with buckets of steaming water. She handed me a scrubbing glove (referred to as a kiss here) and placed some brownish looking paste in my other hand. A bit confused, I went about doing the only thing that made sense-putting the paste all over me and scrubbing. Kadaicha watched me for a bit with the hint of a smile on her face and then attended to setting up a bathing station for my sister. So while I was sitting there rubbing this foreign brown paste all over my skin, the majority of nearby women were unabashedly staring at this clearly European/American lady who had obviously never been to the himmam. After rubbing down with the brown paste, assuming that I would just wash my hair and body like with any other bucket shower, I set to work getting clean! Oh, how naïve! After a few minutes, Kadaicha told me to sit on the stool that we had brought along…then she took the kiss and started scrubbing the entirety of my body…hard. Unabashedly, she scrubbed my skin for a good five minutes, sloughing off the flakes of dead skin as they appeared. It was intense, but an entirely rejuvenating experience. I spent some time marveling at the smoothness of a newly exposed layer of skin! Afterwards, I finished my bath, enjoyed the hot water on my freshly scrubbed body, and waited for my sister and Kadaicha to finish. We were in the back room of the himman for a good hour and a half-I was a bit dehydrated after so long and thus glad to get into the cool air of the evening and drink some water. Refreshed and sparkling, the three us made it home just in time to hear the evening call to prayer and tuck into yet another traditional iftar. I had heard my sister mention henna the night before, so I ate my dates and bread wondering just when henna was to take place. I didn’t have to wait too long! Before I could get any of my Arabic homework done, I was told to come upstairs and get henna! A neighbor who is a popular henna artist in the neighborhood came over and set to work covering my hands with intricate designs. After about thirty minutes, both hands were ornately decorated with beautiful designs. Just as the henna was becoming crusty, my mother covered my hands in a sticky paste that reeked of garlic and slid them both into nylon stockings. Just as I feared, I was told to sleep with my hands like so…for the whole night. Oh how I chastised myself for neglecting to remove my contacts or get into my pajamas beforehand. As you might have guessed, it was a miserable night with little sleep.
As if Tuesday night wasn’t exhausting enough, I decided to fast on Wednesday. Seeing as I didn’t eat the midnight dinner the night before or wake up for the early morning breakfast, I found fasting for the entirety of the day quite difficult. The librarian at the CCCL and my Arabic teacher were pleased I was fasting and not at all surprised when I stumbled through Arabic dictations and pronunciation. The encouraging and entirely sympathetic eyes of my Arabic teacher just stared back at me as I tried to forget hunger and focus on alif, baa, taa… Anyway, I can tell you that fasting for the day certainly made me appreciate the iftar and even the late night dinner that, for the first time since my arrival at the homestay, I took part in. My mother, fully aware that I had been fasting, took great pleasure in inundating me with food throughout both meals. Sadly, by Thursday morning, I came to fully regret the entire fasting experience. Out of what I can only conceive as being sheer shock, my stomach spent the whole of Wednesday night battling with all the food I had suddenly taken in. Unfortunately, my stomach was having none of it and by the morning, made it very clear that Thursday was to be a miserable day of multiple trips to the loo and relentless pain seering through my abdomen. The cook at the center kindly provided me with a banana and told me to eat it with a few glasses of water. Dear Brahim, so thoughtful and helpful in his assessment of my frequent toilet trips! I should also mention that I was entirely grateful that my little sister related to my mother that, as I was feeling quite ill, my evening meal should remain quite small. Praise for minimalist meals! After managing to eat a bit, out of a desire to feel the comforting presence of my real mother and my sympathetic brother, I dashed off to the internet café to skype with them. A welcome conversation, but also a struggle. Hard to realize that as I end the call, they are once again my dear family…miles and miles away. Still, although physically absent from my life at the moment, the sound of their voices and visions of their smiles are very much within me here.
By finishing off the week with a Friday night excursion with fellow students to a nearby hookah bar, I can safely say the past five days have honestly plunged me into the Moroccan experience. Whether experiencing intense communal bathing, dealing with an unprecedented change in diet, or simply letting the pulsing, smoky hookah bar relax me, I spent the week celebrating community, negotiating with my confused and at times, anxious body, and continuously accumulating moments of laughter and delicious discovery. It’s time to attend to the weekend now… and the end of Ramadan! Eid Mubarak! Details from the holiday soon I hope! All my love to you my dears…if you will, admire the changing colours of the leaves for me!
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Monday, September 7, 2009
First off, please ignore the date..I am writing this on September 13, 2009. It's been a draft that I have been adding to for a while now! But hey, it's finally up! Enjoy!
I am so incredibly full at the moment. Although Ramadan means that people here are fasting during the day, don't for a minute assume that they do not eat a lot during this time! As soon as the 7 o'clock call to prayer sounds, iftar happens. FOOD FOOD FOOD. And that's not even dinner...around 11 o'clock, they all sit down again for a large meal of couscous! Then, at 4 a.m., they get up and eat breakfast! Thankfully, I have managed to explain to my new family that I am not taking part in Ramadan and thus, it is not necessary that I eat both the late-night meal or the early, early breakfast!
Speaking of my new family...I moved in on Saturday, September 5th and it has certainly been a bit of a sensory overload for the past week! My house is located on a smaller street next to a busy market in the medina. I have my own room that is separated from the rest of the house by a yellow curtain. The walls of my room are lined with pink and white couches, one of which I sleep on. Although a bit uncomfortable at first, I have now come to view my sleeping spot as one of my new favorite places in the house! The bathroom consists of a toilet and a bucket shower- and is immaculately clean all the time. Shortly after I moved in, the family provided me with a mirror and drawers and told me to treat their house as if it was my own. Speaking of which, I cannot tell you how kind the people that I live with are. Aside from providing me comfortable lodging and delicious meals, they are always offering to teach me about their culture and offer any help with my less than pristine Arabic skills. In particular, my mother and 35 year old sister have moved me with their affection and attention to the things that I do and say. This past week, pointing to herself, my Moroccan mother told me that just as I have a mother in the United States, I also have a mother in Morocco who is willing to be there for me if ever I should need anything. Mama Hafida, what a lady! My sister Aziza almost brought me to tears when, after overhearing me say to my little sister that I enjoyed a chicken tagine, she spent much of the afternoon preparing a beautiful and inexplicably delicious tagine. She set it on the table before me at the 7 o'clock meal with a huge smile on her face and awaited my reaction. Needless to say, I was touched that she had broken with the family's tradition and made a large, main course for the iftar. I have tried to return their kindness by cleaning up dishes and helping to sweep the floors before guests arrive. Mama Hafida just breaks into laughter when she sees me on my hands and knees cleaning the rugs of the room in which we eat! She bestows endless "shukrans" and hugs on me each time! And so, far from feeling uncomfortable or out of place in my new family, I feel both welcomed and accepted.
I am grateful that as my first week here fades away, I face the next week with an establisehd routine and a bit more knowledge about my new neighborhood. I am usually at the CCCL from 9-4, studying Arabic, learning about gender and culture in Morocco, and spending time with other American students. I try to go home after that and go for a bit of a run...unless my host family and I get caught up in laughter and conversation! If that's the case, then I usually wait till after Iftar to go out and spend time with my little sister and other students. All in all, I feel myself beginning to sense a bit of permanence and familiarity as my time in the Medina continues! Love to you all!
I am so incredibly full at the moment. Although Ramadan means that people here are fasting during the day, don't for a minute assume that they do not eat a lot during this time! As soon as the 7 o'clock call to prayer sounds, iftar happens. FOOD FOOD FOOD. And that's not even dinner...around 11 o'clock, they all sit down again for a large meal of couscous! Then, at 4 a.m., they get up and eat breakfast! Thankfully, I have managed to explain to my new family that I am not taking part in Ramadan and thus, it is not necessary that I eat both the late-night meal or the early, early breakfast!
Speaking of my new family...I moved in on Saturday, September 5th and it has certainly been a bit of a sensory overload for the past week! My house is located on a smaller street next to a busy market in the medina. I have my own room that is separated from the rest of the house by a yellow curtain. The walls of my room are lined with pink and white couches, one of which I sleep on. Although a bit uncomfortable at first, I have now come to view my sleeping spot as one of my new favorite places in the house! The bathroom consists of a toilet and a bucket shower- and is immaculately clean all the time. Shortly after I moved in, the family provided me with a mirror and drawers and told me to treat their house as if it was my own. Speaking of which, I cannot tell you how kind the people that I live with are. Aside from providing me comfortable lodging and delicious meals, they are always offering to teach me about their culture and offer any help with my less than pristine Arabic skills. In particular, my mother and 35 year old sister have moved me with their affection and attention to the things that I do and say. This past week, pointing to herself, my Moroccan mother told me that just as I have a mother in the United States, I also have a mother in Morocco who is willing to be there for me if ever I should need anything. Mama Hafida, what a lady! My sister Aziza almost brought me to tears when, after overhearing me say to my little sister that I enjoyed a chicken tagine, she spent much of the afternoon preparing a beautiful and inexplicably delicious tagine. She set it on the table before me at the 7 o'clock meal with a huge smile on her face and awaited my reaction. Needless to say, I was touched that she had broken with the family's tradition and made a large, main course for the iftar. I have tried to return their kindness by cleaning up dishes and helping to sweep the floors before guests arrive. Mama Hafida just breaks into laughter when she sees me on my hands and knees cleaning the rugs of the room in which we eat! She bestows endless "shukrans" and hugs on me each time! And so, far from feeling uncomfortable or out of place in my new family, I feel both welcomed and accepted.
I am grateful that as my first week here fades away, I face the next week with an establisehd routine and a bit more knowledge about my new neighborhood. I am usually at the CCCL from 9-4, studying Arabic, learning about gender and culture in Morocco, and spending time with other American students. I try to go home after that and go for a bit of a run...unless my host family and I get caught up in laughter and conversation! If that's the case, then I usually wait till after Iftar to go out and spend time with my little sister and other students. All in all, I feel myself beginning to sense a bit of permanence and familiarity as my time in the Medina continues! Love to you all!
Friday, September 4, 2009
It's Friday night and I am sitting in Cafe Arab while outside, the streets of Rabat are coming to life. Cafe Arab is located on the corner of Mohammed V and Hassan II, the two major roads that intersect just in front of the Medina. Over the past three days, it has become quite clear that this cafe is the established internet cafe for laptop toting students enrolled in the various programs at the CCCL. We overwhelm both the cafe and the connection a bit I think.During Ramadan, many shops, banks, and official buildings are closed during the day and do not reopen till after the traditional breaking of the fast or the Iftar. Of course, the majority of the official buildings remain closed, leaving the cafes, restaurants, and shops to handle the crowds of people eager to take advantage of their new found energy. I find it quite remarkable to be in a city where everyone around me is going day after day with no food between 4 a.m. and 7 a.m. All things considered, the moderate level of patience and focus the people maintain throughout the day rather impresses me.
Since I last wrote, much has taken place. Aside from various orientation lectures covering everything from Ramadan in Morocco to Morocco as a Multilingual Nation, there have also been two crash courses in Moroccan Arabic or Darija, a drop-off exercise, a non-touristy bus tour of Rabat, and an exercise in bargaining in the medina. The lessons on Darija were fascinating and of course, challenging! since I do not have any prior knowledge of the Arabic script, I spent the majority of the time listening to the words in Darija and transcribing them into English script. Needless to say my notebook is full of words that make no sense in English, but that provide me with just the ammunition I need for feigning knowledge of the Moroccan dialect. I had a chance to practive my Darija while I was taking part in the drop-off exercise. In order to force us to come to terms with our new home in Rabat and understand the layout of the city, our program directors put us on a bus and drove us to random spots in Rabat, directing us to try and find our way back to the CCCL in a certain amount of time. Although I tried to find my own, a few of us caved and resorted to asking for directions in French. The people I approached were very helpful and seemed eager to help me on my epic quest! So, in keeping with the theme of buses, the next activity was an informative bus tour throughout the different neighborhoods of Rabat and across the river into Rabat's sister city, Sale. Rabat is an absolutely gorgeous city and the variety of architecture provides an enrapturing narrative of the Moroccan story. In particular, the pressure of modernity is visible in many of the construction projects that are underway across much of the city. Thus far, I think my favorite part of orientation has been the bargaining exercise in the souk of the medina. Not only did I get to practice Darija, but I also had the opportunity to practice my French. You should be proud-I bought two notebooks and two mini packs of q-tips for 10 dirham! Which is the equivalent of just under $1.50. Although I wish I had splurged on delcious dates and wonderous treats, I was disciplined and used my funds on practicality galore!
Whilst these descriptions provide a bit of a window into my orientation, I have saved the best for last...I met my host family today! I was racked with nerves in the hours leading up to my introduction, but shortly after my host sister Souad bounded up to me and introduced herself, I was enjoying trying to converse in a mixture of French, broken Darija, and spotty English. Coincidence of all wonderous coincidences, it turns out that my host family also hosted an incredible girl by the name of Carolyn. Before I left for Morocco, a past participant of the BU program, Carolyn was ever so helpful in advising me on everything from what to pack to what to expect from daily life as a student in Rabat. I only hope I can be the host daughter that Carolyn seems to have been-I can tell you, she made a sincerely wonderful impact with this family. Althugh I am still a bit timid, it is a comfort to have already heard so much about how loving this family is!
With my move to the house tomorrow, I think I will feel like my experience in Morocco has truly begun. It's a strange mixture of emotions-anxiety, excitement, curiosity, and also hope-hope that I can become part of this family and grow close to all its members, learn about them and their everyday lives, and establish yet another place in this beautifully, mind-blowing world to call home.
Peace and love to you all!
Since I last wrote, much has taken place. Aside from various orientation lectures covering everything from Ramadan in Morocco to Morocco as a Multilingual Nation, there have also been two crash courses in Moroccan Arabic or Darija, a drop-off exercise, a non-touristy bus tour of Rabat, and an exercise in bargaining in the medina. The lessons on Darija were fascinating and of course, challenging! since I do not have any prior knowledge of the Arabic script, I spent the majority of the time listening to the words in Darija and transcribing them into English script. Needless to say my notebook is full of words that make no sense in English, but that provide me with just the ammunition I need for feigning knowledge of the Moroccan dialect. I had a chance to practive my Darija while I was taking part in the drop-off exercise. In order to force us to come to terms with our new home in Rabat and understand the layout of the city, our program directors put us on a bus and drove us to random spots in Rabat, directing us to try and find our way back to the CCCL in a certain amount of time. Although I tried to find my own, a few of us caved and resorted to asking for directions in French. The people I approached were very helpful and seemed eager to help me on my epic quest! So, in keeping with the theme of buses, the next activity was an informative bus tour throughout the different neighborhoods of Rabat and across the river into Rabat's sister city, Sale. Rabat is an absolutely gorgeous city and the variety of architecture provides an enrapturing narrative of the Moroccan story. In particular, the pressure of modernity is visible in many of the construction projects that are underway across much of the city. Thus far, I think my favorite part of orientation has been the bargaining exercise in the souk of the medina. Not only did I get to practice Darija, but I also had the opportunity to practice my French. You should be proud-I bought two notebooks and two mini packs of q-tips for 10 dirham! Which is the equivalent of just under $1.50. Although I wish I had splurged on delcious dates and wonderous treats, I was disciplined and used my funds on practicality galore!
Whilst these descriptions provide a bit of a window into my orientation, I have saved the best for last...I met my host family today! I was racked with nerves in the hours leading up to my introduction, but shortly after my host sister Souad bounded up to me and introduced herself, I was enjoying trying to converse in a mixture of French, broken Darija, and spotty English. Coincidence of all wonderous coincidences, it turns out that my host family also hosted an incredible girl by the name of Carolyn. Before I left for Morocco, a past participant of the BU program, Carolyn was ever so helpful in advising me on everything from what to pack to what to expect from daily life as a student in Rabat. I only hope I can be the host daughter that Carolyn seems to have been-I can tell you, she made a sincerely wonderful impact with this family. Althugh I am still a bit timid, it is a comfort to have already heard so much about how loving this family is!
With my move to the house tomorrow, I think I will feel like my experience in Morocco has truly begun. It's a strange mixture of emotions-anxiety, excitement, curiosity, and also hope-hope that I can become part of this family and grow close to all its members, learn about them and their everyday lives, and establish yet another place in this beautifully, mind-blowing world to call home.
Peace and love to you all!
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Welcome to Morocco!
I can’t believe it myself, but I am finally here. After a late, long ago start in Atlanta, I am finally here in this place that has been overwhelming my mind for the past few months. Looking out of the window on the way from the airport into the city of Rabat, I can’t seem to distinctly remember any of the particular fears or concerns I used to habitually turn over in my head like coins in my pocket. These fears of mine no longer seem so sharp and present-it feels like I clumped them together and left them sitting in Seat 19C of AF2958. At the moment, I can’t find fear within me, but rather am overtaken by an intense desire to look, taste, and enter fully the world that now surrounds me.
I was a bit taken aback by the heat when I walked out of the airport. I knew it would be warm, but the contrast of the dry heat of Morocco to the dense, suffocating humidity of Atlanta made me feel the warmth of the sun much more acutely here. Met by our program director at the Center for Cross Cultural Learning, we were whisked away into the center of the newer part of Rabat. While the CCCL is located in the ‘old city’ of Rabat or what is referred to as the Medina, the hotel where I am staying until I move in with my host family is in the Ville Nouvelle or the New City. So, the Hotel Majestic, it’s an establishment that looks out on something far more majestic than it’s standard self; it faces the wall of the Medina. The war is undeniably impressive in a way that makes you trip in the streets of the newer city as you stare at the border between new and old-and yes, I am speaking from personal experience. Fear not, my toesies are fine!
The eye-catching wall is somewhat of a stark divider between the windy old streets of the medina and the less neighborly roads of the cluttered ville nouvelle. While I’m sure the contrast remains after Ramadan, I suspect that the observance of the holiday heightens the difference between the two sections of the city. Although I have been here only a short time, I feel as if Moroccan tradition is so heavily concentrated within the medina while the influences of modernity and western culture are far more prevalent on the newer side of the wall.
After a wonderful dinner in a restaurant just outside of the medina, it is with a jumbled sensory system that I write. So many new sounds, smells, and faces in so short a time span! Perhaps I should start by telling you that thus far, I have enjoyed everything from a traditional Moroccan dinner of couscous and dates to an evening stroll along Rabat's beautiful beach. As I have a reputation in my family for being a bit obsessed with couscous, I think they will be pleased to know that I have finally tasted truly delicious and genuine couscous! Quite certain my family would go bananas over the dates here are as well! The beach was refreshing and I was quite surprised at just how busy it is during Ramadan-our professor said a lot of people go down there to swim and enjoy activity that takes their mind off of fasting.
I feel a tinge of nerves as I think about moving in with my host family at the end of the week. At the moment, I still feel like a tourist, skimming the surface of Morocco and hesitating to jump in. In a way, I regard the wall as being a symbol of the transition my stay here is about to undergo. As I remain on the newer side of it for the next few days, I maintain the status of a visitor, disconnected from any Moroccans. Each time I go into the medina during orientation, I feel as though I am going to watch a play with a plot I can't fully grasp and a set that relays little more than broken fragments of what is the cultural mosiac of Morocco. I get the sense that this tourist status of mine will change on Saturday as I make the move to my host family's home in the Medina. Becoming part of a family and experiencing daily life in the close quarters of the medina will surely reveal to me a secret shared between all its inhabitants. I await the move with bated breath.
For now, my good friends, that is all I can manage to write. Spastic entry! A meager snapshot I know, but I myself have yet to swallow all that I have taken in. Besides, I thought I'd spare you from the formalities we covered in orientation sessions today! Don't worry, I shall return soon with so much more to tell you about my new home in Rabat! Peace and love to all!
I was a bit taken aback by the heat when I walked out of the airport. I knew it would be warm, but the contrast of the dry heat of Morocco to the dense, suffocating humidity of Atlanta made me feel the warmth of the sun much more acutely here. Met by our program director at the Center for Cross Cultural Learning, we were whisked away into the center of the newer part of Rabat. While the CCCL is located in the ‘old city’ of Rabat or what is referred to as the Medina, the hotel where I am staying until I move in with my host family is in the Ville Nouvelle or the New City. So, the Hotel Majestic, it’s an establishment that looks out on something far more majestic than it’s standard self; it faces the wall of the Medina. The war is undeniably impressive in a way that makes you trip in the streets of the newer city as you stare at the border between new and old-and yes, I am speaking from personal experience. Fear not, my toesies are fine!
The eye-catching wall is somewhat of a stark divider between the windy old streets of the medina and the less neighborly roads of the cluttered ville nouvelle. While I’m sure the contrast remains after Ramadan, I suspect that the observance of the holiday heightens the difference between the two sections of the city. Although I have been here only a short time, I feel as if Moroccan tradition is so heavily concentrated within the medina while the influences of modernity and western culture are far more prevalent on the newer side of the wall.
After a wonderful dinner in a restaurant just outside of the medina, it is with a jumbled sensory system that I write. So many new sounds, smells, and faces in so short a time span! Perhaps I should start by telling you that thus far, I have enjoyed everything from a traditional Moroccan dinner of couscous and dates to an evening stroll along Rabat's beautiful beach. As I have a reputation in my family for being a bit obsessed with couscous, I think they will be pleased to know that I have finally tasted truly delicious and genuine couscous! Quite certain my family would go bananas over the dates here are as well! The beach was refreshing and I was quite surprised at just how busy it is during Ramadan-our professor said a lot of people go down there to swim and enjoy activity that takes their mind off of fasting.
I feel a tinge of nerves as I think about moving in with my host family at the end of the week. At the moment, I still feel like a tourist, skimming the surface of Morocco and hesitating to jump in. In a way, I regard the wall as being a symbol of the transition my stay here is about to undergo. As I remain on the newer side of it for the next few days, I maintain the status of a visitor, disconnected from any Moroccans. Each time I go into the medina during orientation, I feel as though I am going to watch a play with a plot I can't fully grasp and a set that relays little more than broken fragments of what is the cultural mosiac of Morocco. I get the sense that this tourist status of mine will change on Saturday as I make the move to my host family's home in the Medina. Becoming part of a family and experiencing daily life in the close quarters of the medina will surely reveal to me a secret shared between all its inhabitants. I await the move with bated breath.
For now, my good friends, that is all I can manage to write. Spastic entry! A meager snapshot I know, but I myself have yet to swallow all that I have taken in. Besides, I thought I'd spare you from the formalities we covered in orientation sessions today! Don't worry, I shall return soon with so much more to tell you about my new home in Rabat! Peace and love to all!
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