I woke up early because of all of the snoring. We put our blankets away and got ready. I used a face wipe to wash my face- great invention. The entire fam was bopping around, but nobody called us for breakfast, so we were a little confused. I went outside and Hillary and Ari were playing soccer. Their family woke them up at 7:45 to eat. No breakfast for us I guessed… I went back inside and looked in the eating room to find a beautiful spread of bread, olive oil, olives, nutella, confiture- jelly, and breakfast cake. The sister told us to sit and eat. Hillary and Ari came over and ate breakfast number two because they only had bread and oil. I really have been lucking out with the food selection in my homestays in Morocco so far… Delish breakfast, and then we went to meet everyone at Fadoua’s. We picked up water, and began the “30 minute walk” to the NGO.
I was still sleepy and not feeling very social, so I enjoyed a solo walk to the NGO. The day before Hillary asked if I could ever live on a farm. I immeadiately responded “absolutely not” but thinking about it on my walk- I started to think that I would be able to. I probably wouldn’t be able to, but it is so nice and beautiful here, and I like the idea of being self sufficient in terms of eating what you grow etc. I told her about Southold and said that I plan on keeping that “country” house for the rest of my life. Maybe I will expand and add more veggies in the garden or something. I am not sure about the animals though… I could probably live in the village for a short period of time, and started to reconsider my CISLA/ISP project. Before I knew it- we were at the NGO. The school is next to the NGO, and there were a lot of cute phrases on the wall of the school.
We had “calligraphy” (the third time this semester). It was more of an art project than a calligraphy activity. We wrote our names, a calligraphy artist traced them- we were given an exacto knife (more dangerous than making straw hats…) to cut out a stensil and then paint sponges to transfer the stencil onto the big wood planks. It was whatever. I felt like a toddler/preteen summer camper, but it was cool I guess? I am also going to leave my plank somewhere because it is big and unnecessary. I can make another one in America if I really miss it. We had paint all over our hands and “washed it” in a toxic substance, and then rinsed in water. We walked back for lunch.
Lunch was this split pea soup with the great bread and olive oil. The soup is called bissrah, and Fadoua told us that we would only be served it if they considered us a part of their family. Bissrah is considered a low-budget meal, and forbidden to serve guests. We also had pasta with carrots and potatoes and tea. I went outside to journal. I was in the sun for probably 7 minutes before someone came outside and tapped on my bun, motioning that the sun was hitting me. I gave her a confused look, and she said “shemps katheeran” (a lot of sun). I tried to say “nooo it’s okay- I luv the sun” but she would not have it- we moved my chair into the shade. Our little cousins found me and brought me outside to play. We played soccer and then they became involved with Paco (the puppy). I sat down (in the shade again) and journled and rested my eyes a little. I was caught resting y eyes, and they told me to go inside and sleep. I didn’t want to do that. I DID go inside to get the silly bands- they loved them. Selma was not there, so I told her brother to save the purple one for her. He agreed and put it on his wrist. They didn’t totally understand the concept of them and were driving the taxis around and shooting their statues of liberty at each other. They had big smiles tho, which is all that really matters. We had “girl talk” at 3:30, so I went to the Turkish toilet and then we were off. I had a weird Turkish toilet experience- I usually get too shy/scared that I will pee all over myself, but there are no western toilets in the area, and you gotta go- you gotta go!! (Why be uncomfortable, right Peggy?). It’s so hard to go to the bathroom in a Turkish toilet, that I love my Rabat family even more for not making me go through this every day.
We walked to a shady spot in the area and sat in a huge circle. Fadoua translated and we asked eachother questions. They were pretty bland at first, but then they got spicy. They split us into a boy group and a girl group because they thought some of the Moroccan women wouldn’t answer the questions honestly in front of the men. I honestly was more interested in the kids who came with us, but there were still some interesting that came up. All of the girls (age range ~15-35) who we were talking to were virgins. I guess I was surprised on the sole basis that I had NO idea either way. They also said that they never questioned their religion and never considered practicing any other religion. They also all would like more freedom and plan on giving their children more freedom than they had growing up. They think of “liberty” “honesty” and “hard working” when they think of Americans. The kids really took a liking to me. One was kissing me and climbing all over me. Very cute “nada” was her name. Pic of the kids and my clogs. The children were being loud around me, so I might have been distrupting the conversation a little- it’s okay. We had tea and the boys were GUZZLING it- so funny/cute/weird because it was incredibly hot. After the meeting we got ourselves 30 minutes to explore (our family was very reluctant/confused). Sara, Carolyn and I debriefed the conversation as we walked around. We concluded that they didn’t really get a fair representation of American youth because we all came from similar backgrounds. I thought there was definitely a wide variety of people. Sara and Carolyn wanted some non-liberal arts people. IDK… I think any interaction is going to be informative for both parties, but I guess more diversity would have been better.
We walked and came across a huge tanker truck. Daisy & Alexa had ran ahead and were talking to the owners of the truck. I believe they were from Denmark (HII Nicki, Ali & Keeeeeks), or at least the truck was. They work for three months of the year, and then travel for the other 9 months. They are love birds. He was very harsh looking, but big & attractive & she was small (swimming in his sweatsuit- SO cute), Olivia Thirlby look-a-like. They gave the boys notebooks, which made them very happy. I gave them pens to write their names. Sufian is younger and can't write his name yet, so I wrote it in English and Arabic for him. It was getting late- the sun was setting, so we had to start to head back. I had a race with the boys. I wasn’t sprinting, but I def wasn’t letting them win- they did though. I ran into little Yousef (our cousin) on the way home, and he walked me back home. When I got home the whole family was outside waiting for us. They made me call my friends, all of whom were probably two minutes behind me. They are very protective here. When everyone was back, we went into the living room and watched TV/waited for dinner. I wasn’t particularly hungry, but I think Sara described it well- we were hungry, but we weren’t hungry for what we were about to eat. Dinner was- drumroll plzzz- TAJINE. It was still good tho. Chicken tajine with carrots/potatoes, and the bread is still amazing. We had oranges for dessert. The rest of the family came over and we talked & hung out. Tia asked where her fiancé was, and our cousin said something that we couldn’t understand. He continued and we COULD understand the second thing he said. He said that “her fiancé” was very rich because he is a drug dealer- the family got mad at him for saying that. I am not sure if they were made because he was exposing family secrets, or because it was not true. The stereotypes surrounding the men in the village is that they hire prostitutes and are involved in the drug industry. Not sure exactly how much of that is valid vs. generalizations… M’dga-dga (tired) was thrown around a lot & finally we were excused to bed. We brushed teeth under stars and then passed out.
No comments:
Post a Comment