Home again
This is my last entry written before I arrived home. It is November 19th, and I arrived home around 2 am due to delays at JFK. I hope to add some new pictures, and perhaps more script as I process the last six weeks and what I've seen and heard and learned.
November 14, 2006
As I signed into the hotel, I had to ask Hind what day it was. I've lost track of time, except that I am constantly aware of its swift passing. There is so much to write about, but with no adaptor plug, I'm worried that I will run out of power before I get this typed. At any rate, I left you on the last day of school, I think. The following day, Friday, we were to meet two American teachers and take them to some Moroccan schools—one to Salah's preschool, the other to Ali's English class. They apparently called while Mostafa was taking Hind to the university to teach, and since we missed their call, when we arrived at their hotel they were gone. We waited for over an hour for them to return (ostensibly from the bank), but they never did, and we never heard from then, which was especially embarassing because we made further arrangements for the afternoon, since we had missed them in the morning. I found myself apologizing. There was obviously a miscommunication, but part of it was that Moroccan concept of time that doesn't jibe with American punctuality. At any rate, it sort of screwed up Mostafa's morning,but he took me from the hotel to the carpet merchant and I picked up my carpet as well as a few scarves.
During the afternoon, Mostafa took me to see Sidi Harazem, which is another thermal spa. When he said we were going there, I wasn't excited, because we had stopped there during Ramadan, and there had been virtually noone there and nothing but a fountain where people were filling plastic bottles with water. But when we arrived, there were people everywhere! There were decorated horses, food vendors and a souk that sold souvenirs that had been "blessed" to be brought home to relatives. And I was impressed by how clean everything was, especially the water!. There was a festive air with people spread out on blankets with picnics around the fountain. We left around 5 which got us home around 5:30.
That evening we went to another Ali's house (a young Middle School teacher who had once been one of Mostafa's students!) He lives in a lovely apartment with his mother, and we joined him with his sister and her child for a very elaborate tea. We were due to arrive at 6, but because someone stopped by a little before we were due to leave, we didn't get there til around 7:30 pm (Moroccan timetable again). There were at least five different kinds of sweets, Moroccan crepes, honey, olive oil, boiled eggs, and various spices. Ali showed us his BA thesis about the Berber language and similarities in English. And we talked about my perceptions of Morocco. He asked, as have so many, what has impressed me most. (Ironically, I was asked the same question by the participants of the workshop the next day) I told him, the Moroccan people. I know people expect me to name some city or monument or even some event or food, but in a six week exchange program such as this one, you really get to know people more than any place, because that is how you spend your time—working, eating, visiting, sleeping, shopping, etc. together. I told him (and the participants the following day) that the legendary hospitality is almost unbelievable . Hind and I joke about "American space". I've talked about how at Barnes and Noble we are not allowed to hug and touch any other employee while working. This is to protect Barnes and Noble from accusations of harassment and to ensure that noone feels uncomfortable. But here! Men hug and kiss, women walk arm in arm. Personal space is non-existent. And it's wonderful. In Islam, if you have shared a meal with someone, you are brothers. And the practice rings true. I am told over and over, "You must come back! Inshallah (God willing)" And I am already thinking about how I can make that possible.
We picked up Ali the following morning, and I think the presentation went well. Some teachers had some reservations, because as I've mentioned before, our situations are so different. But I honestly feel I had something to offer. I again talked about group activities such as peer evaluation, LOTO, listening activities, the Rassias drill, etc. I will be interested to see if I get any feedback via the internet, as I shared my e-mail address and blog with the participants.
We were slated to go to Ali Chilfi's house for lunch around 12:30, and I can't remember exactly what held us up, but we ended up there around 2 pm (Surprise! Surprise!) The meal was a delicious couscous, which was wonderful, but the highlight of the afternoon for me was meeting Fatima. She was another dynamic woman. I commented on her table setting, and we began talking about the needlework I had seen in Morocco. She handed me a beautiful napkin, and she informed me that she had done the work herself. At that point, she gave me two Berber cushion covers she had made, and I was quite overwhelmed. Her generosity was typical of what I have experienced over and over during the past five weeks, but I felt a real connection with her. I was disappointed we had only gotten to see each other this once, because I thoroughly enjoyed her company.
After lunch, which lasted til about 5, Rachid, who had been with us durng lunch, accompanied us to the medina (via the Jewish Quarter) to introduce us to a friend who then sold me the teapot I had on my list in order to show my students how tea is made here in Morocco. Hind and Mostafa also bought me a tea tray to accompany it. There generosity is really too much. En route, Mostafa was stopped by a number of relatives in the Jewish Quarter where his uncle owns a house next to the synagogue which dates from the 17th century. More than likely, the house dates from the same time period. The woodwork had unfortunately been painted over, and parts of it were in serious disrepair, but you could see what the home must have once been. It had a strong odor which I found out was as a result of the sheep that are currently being kept in the house, but it was very clean. As soon as we entered the home and greetings had been exchanged with various cousins, we were offered something to eat and drink. Because we had just left the Chilfi's home, none of us were hungry, but it would have been rude to refuse their hospitality, so we nibbled and exchanged pleasantries and then took a tour. From the rooftop you could look over the entire Jewish Quarter and I felt I had stepped back into another time period. When we got home, we discussed whether we were going to drive to Rabat via Fes or directly from Marrakech, and once we decided on the latter, I had to repack so that everything would go with us. This had me up til after 11 pm, and we got up at 4:30 the next morning in order to leave around 5:30. Eleven hours later we arrived at his sister's home in. The trip was NOT nonstop. Poor Salah got sick from all the twists and turns at the beginning of the drive; we stopped for breakfast at a cafe/restaurant in what I would have called "the middle of nowhere" and we went through the Todra Gorge, which was an experience and a half for someone as terrified of heights as I am. The gorge is located a little beyond Tinerhir and the climb is literally breathtaking. The road (which is quite narrow) winds around the mountain for about 17 km with no barriers along the edge of the road with drops of I don't know how many feet! My palms were sweaty from gripping the door of the car. But the drive was worth it! The cliffs rise about 300 meters above the water and are spectacular as they vary in different shades of pink in the changing sun. It really is one of those natural wonders that makes you feel very, very small.
By the way, I will NEVER say I live in the middle of nowhere again, because now I've seen where the middle of nowhere really is! Before reaching the gorge, we traveled for miles without seeing any habitation at all, and the land resembled something I'd seen in a photograph of the moon. We came upon a herd of camels being driven by their owner, and I don't think we saw another person for at least another 20 kilometers before or after we ran into him!
Although we were originally scheduled to arrive at Mostafa's half sister, Touda's, home for lunch, we never got there until 4:30 in the afternoon, but food was served almost immediately after we arrived leading me to believe they had waited until we got there. Before we had even exited the car, Touda came running to greet us and covered us with kisses. Multiple kisses are de rigueur here. It was obviously an emotional reunion, because apparently this was the first time they had seen each other in nearly four years. There was a lot of hand kissing, too, as is the custom in the south. Mostafa's nephew (who was 8 years older than he) served us tea in the "salon". As in all the salons I had seen in Morocco, the walls were surrounded with cushions, but this time there was no couch. Rugs were spread across the floor, and people sat on the floor. Before we started the next round of food, we took a tour of the main part of the house and were introduced to the animals: dairy cows, mules, sheep and chickens. This is a working farm, but work it truly is, because there was no indoor plumbing and no taps for water. It is drawn from a well and placed in buckets and metal jugs for various uses. For example, in the room that served as the privy, there were two metal jugs of water to wash down the refuse of the "Turkish Toilet". But in the courtyard, the water was in large buckets for washing dishes, and in the salon, the water was brought in a jug for consumption or for the preparing of tea over a gas burner. Before any food was consumed, one of the middle school aged children brought around a metal container for hand washing and a towel. It was brought around at the end of the meal as well, and some of the men gargled with the warm water and spit it into the bowl. People came and went as food was served, and because the floor is concrete (or earthen) it quickly became cold, so we were supplied with blankets. As it got darker and darker, I felt we were at a giant slumber party. The conversations took place in Berber and Arabic. Because Hind doesn't speak Berber, she had a new understanding of what I have been experiencing the past five weeks as laughter and jokes and family stories were shared in another language. I was obviously the object of much curiosity, because some of the children kept coming in to watch us and stare at me. Touda had to constantly be told that I was from the U.S., because her comprehension of the outside world went not much further than France, where one of her sons is now living. She is nearly 76 and had as much energy as the children. She was up and down a dozen times during the meal and ran a constant conversation. I hadn't a clue what she was saying, but we quickly joked over the fact that we could only say Salem Alekum (spelling?) and Alekum Salem to one another. Mostafa taught her how to say "Welcome!" which she repeated and then grabbed my hand and hugged me. There was a lot of touching, but it came very naturally.
A description of Touda's homestead could lead to a book , I am sure, because it includes 6 of her sons (of 11 children) and their wives and children. When I asked Mostafa how many people lived in the home, he said he wasn't sure, but he thought there were at least 24! His uncle's home, located next door, could hold as many as 70 when the family gathered for some celebration or another. It was true communal living, with the wives taking turns at various tasks, and the children running back and forth from room to room and outside. Mostafa indicated that everyone knew their own children, but it wasn't always clear who belonged to whom. Nearly everything they eat is harvested and made right there. We took a tour in the morning (after bunking down on the floor on tiny mattresses in the salon), and were shown the almond trees, olive trees, corn, paprika, figs, grapes etc. The milk we drank came from the cows, and the bread was made in a stone oven on the premises. All morning long, through the afternoon, we could hear some of the wives stripping the corn and then pounding it into corn meal. It is obviously a very hard life, but everyone seemed to benefit from the healthy lifestyle. We had not one breakfast, but two, because most of the household had been up at five cooking, cleaning, and milking the cows. The second breakfast consisted of almonds from their trees and rice mixed with melted sour butter. It was very good. Touda then announced that the women, specifically Hind and I, were to dress up Berber style. I don't think I've played dress up since I was little, but that was exactly what this was. We were escorted to Touda's bedroom where she pulled out caftans and lace cloth and the beaded headdresses typical of the region. Touda even took out her kohl for her eyes. And then we all posed to have our pictures taken. It was a lot of fun, although for some reason, it upset Salah immensely. He screamed when Mostafa went to take our picture and for the next 24 hours, he kept telling us how "bad" it was. And suddenly it was time for lunch! I felt like all I did for two days was eat! This time we went next door to the uncle's home and had a tajine with prunes,olive and beef. As always it was delicious. Mostafa clearly wanted to stay another day, but I discovered that although I didn't mind camping out for one night, I was ready for running water, specifically a hot shower, and a real bed, so we set out for Ouarzazate about 4 pm. We arrived around 5:30 and checked into the IBIS hotel there. We unwound from about 6-8 (I took a really long shower!) and then drove around town, ending up back at the hotel for a late dinner in the hotel restaurant. There really wasn't much to see in the town, as it is mostly a jumping off point for other places in Morocco. Its biggest claim to fame is that many movies have been made here: Lawence of Arabia, the Gladiator, and Mel Gibson's Passion of the Christ.
Tuesday morning we got up and had breakfast in the hotel by the pool. I laughed because I ended up having three cups of coffee. After drinking the strong coffee of Morocco, this tasted more like watered down dishwater to me (as well as to Hind and Mostafa). We went to the Kasbah, which is the only real site to see in town, and had a wonderful guide walk us through a small portion. The most interesting fact I learned (which was new to Hind, too) is that the postures for prayer are based on the letters in the word Allah which are shaped like a hand with the thumb and forefinger forming a circle. This we learned when we were in the "favorite wife's" bedroom, and I made a comment on the word Allah written on various walls. The smudging was not due to restoration, as I had assumed but had come from hands being put on the word as a form of prayer and blessing. As old as the Kasbah is, it's use of natural light and aeration struck me as very modern in concept. We finished the tour around noon and then started the drive to Marrakesh.
The drive was spectacular. There is no other word for it. But, three quarters of the way through the pass through the Atlas Mountains I experienced a meltdown. I never realized how terrified I was of heights (specifically of falling) until on one of the turns, Mostafa stopped to have us take in the view and I burst into tears. I felt suitably embarrassed, but my whole body was extremely tense, my right hand was sore from gripping the door handle, and it took me until near midnight to fall asleep in Marrakesh, even though I was tired, just because I was so tightly wound. I guess we don't know what we fear until we're confronted with it. At least I have the pictures so that I can enjoy the view now that the drive is over. Mostafa was great, really, and I only hope I didn't put a damper on the drive. ,The visit to the Djemaa el Fna square that night was a little less exciting than it might have been, because I couldn't really focus, and the crowds made me somewhat nervous. There were clown acts, many musicians and some women selling knitted goods. There were fortune tellers and women decorating tourists with henna. But I was actually anxious to get back to the hotel, where I got into bed and concentrated on breathing.
Today is Wednesday, the fifteenth, and in fifteen minutes, I'm supposed to meet the family for a last night in Marrakech. We spent the morning having breakfast on the terrace of a restaurant overlooking Djemaa el Fna; we walked through part of the medina (which is nothing when compared to Fes) and then took a caleche ride through town, stopping at the Majorelle Garden. The garden was wonderful, punctuated with its signature blue color on the buildings and walkways, but we stayed a very short time since we were paying the caleche driver by the hour. We had lunch at a pizzeria and then came back to the hotel to rest. I managed to get the hotel to find me an adapter for the computer, and I've been catching up on the journal and recharging the computer. I'll try and update my last memories of Marrakech tonight when we get back. Until then.
Wednesday night, the 15th
We just returned from the square, and I had so much fun! First of all, after parking the car, Hind noticed a shop that sold CDs so I purchased some music for Jacob and some drum music for my sister. Then, on entering the square, I had a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice for just 3 dirhams (which is about 35 cents!) and you know how much I love freshly squeezed orange juice! Then Hind purchased a bolt of blue cloth for me, handmade on a loom, much as we saw them do in Fes. She did the negotiating while Mostafa and I waited outside, because in general, as soon as they see me, the price doubles. Then I had henna put on my right hand and on my left ankle. Hind was very upset when they quoted an exorbitant price (according to Moroccan standards), so she got them down to something much lower (50 dirhams). As we walked away, someone bumped into me and smudged the design, so we went back and they redid part of it. What will people think when I come home with henna on my hand and leg??? But the best part and the most fun was Hind and I had our fortunes told. I went first, because this was something that Mostafa said I should have done while in Marrakesh. The woman said that there was a man that loved me very much (Hind looks at me and smiles knowingly, "Michael".) That I have family that loves me very much. She said that I have a tendency to worry, but then things settle down. She then said I would be soon involved in a big project (moving?) And that I would have another daughter. At this point, I started laughing and said, "No! I'm much too old!" At which point, she said we had misunderstood, that she meant my daughter would have a child. I laughed and said that this was acceptable! Hind had never had her fortune told, so we first ran off to get some change, and then she went back to the same woman. Her fortune differed in that she was told her mother prayed for her every day and worried about her. She was also told that she was not to worry about children, that it would all work out all right. She mentioned that she had just been given a new job (pretty uncanny, because she does have a new job) and that it would work out well. She referred to a project in process (their new apartment? the thesis?) And finally she said that she had a husband that cared for her, and that she needed to reciprocate. Hind laughed and smiled and gave the fortune teller a hug. She was giggling like a teenager, and I told her that I would miss her very much, which is so very true! Mostafa I think was suffering pretty badly from carrying Salah around and was ready to go back to the hotel, which was fine by me, since I'd done more than I had hoped for in the period of time we had in Marrakech. I am embarrassed to say I had us stop at McDonalds on the way back to the hotel, only because it was quick and I could bring it back and eat it in my room before going to bed. Tomorrow morning the plan is to get up early and leave by around 8 o'clock, stopping at Mostafa's uncle's for lunch. We will then drive on to Rabat where he will drop me off at the hotel and return home. It will be another day of driving for him. I think he's grateful that there will be a weekend to recuperate after I leave, although nothing has been said to that effect. I haven't yet packed my new purchases, but I'd best do so soon so I can get some sleep. I'm really looking forward to seeing Michael, but I'm not looking forward to the sixteen hours of travel on Friday. I feel like I've done enough of that in the past couple of days! And yet I am so grateful for all the time and effort Mostafa and Hind have taken to make this experience an unforgettable one. I hope that in March, Mostafa will feel the same way.
November 16, 2006
It's the last day! We left Marrakech around 8:30, stopped at the square for herbs for Fatima Chilfi's tea (she's from Marrakech, and the herbs are apparently different than what she can get in Fes), and then for breakfast patisseries and bread. I was hungry, so I ate in the car, but we then stopped at an Oasis Cafe (roadside chain) to fuel the tank as well as our stomachs. We headed north to Mostafa's uncle's farm. It took us a while to find the entrance and then the road was little more than gravel carved through fields of red clay. When we arrived, the entire extended family was waiting for us, and we couldn't even drive the car into the yard, because we had to get out and greet everyone! We had arrived around 12:30 and we didn't leave until nearly 4 pm. In addition to tea and brochettes and a tajine, the brought out boiled mutton with herbs for dipping and fresh fruit. They kept telling me to eat (which I was, of course), but I swear if I ate as much as everyone seems to want me to, they'd have to roll me off the plane. They still may have to! We had a tour of the farm, of which Mostafa's cousin is rightfully proud. There are olive trees and almond trees, as on Touda's farm, but there were also beehives and pomegranate trees, orange trees and various vegetables. There were pigeons, chickens, and turkeys. There were rabbits, goats and cows as well as a mare and her one-year old colt. Another lovely spread that obviously required much work, but as at Touda's farm, everyone seemed healthy and happy, and oh so glad to see Mostafa, Hind and Salah. Uncle Mohamed gave me rose water before I left, and as usual, Mostafa and Hind left with fruits from the farm. God forbid you should leave empty handed! A more generous people I have never known. Back in the car, I told Hind that in all the places I've lived and in all the countries I've lived in, this one really got under my skin. We arrived in Rabat around 8:30, said good-bye in the lobby, and I made my way to room 510 of the hotel, where Jenny has already been (and gone...one last night on the town, I guess). I've organized myself for tomorrow, but I still can't believe that six weeks have already passed. Mostafa and Hind left after dropping me off, because they had another three hours of driving ahead, and Hind has class tomorrow. I am going to miss them tremendously. As Mostafa said in the car, we've become family. We were well matched, and I can't imagine my life without them. Thank you, Macece and the Fulbright Foundation for making this exchange possible. You won't regret it.
November 14, 2006
As I signed into the hotel, I had to ask Hind what day it was. I've lost track of time, except that I am constantly aware of its swift passing. There is so much to write about, but with no adaptor plug, I'm worried that I will run out of power before I get this typed. At any rate, I left you on the last day of school, I think. The following day, Friday, we were to meet two American teachers and take them to some Moroccan schools—one to Salah's preschool, the other to Ali's English class. They apparently called while Mostafa was taking Hind to the university to teach, and since we missed their call, when we arrived at their hotel they were gone. We waited for over an hour for them to return (ostensibly from the bank), but they never did, and we never heard from then, which was especially embarassing because we made further arrangements for the afternoon, since we had missed them in the morning. I found myself apologizing. There was obviously a miscommunication, but part of it was that Moroccan concept of time that doesn't jibe with American punctuality. At any rate, it sort of screwed up Mostafa's morning,but he took me from the hotel to the carpet merchant and I picked up my carpet as well as a few scarves.
During the afternoon, Mostafa took me to see Sidi Harazem, which is another thermal spa. When he said we were going there, I wasn't excited, because we had stopped there during Ramadan, and there had been virtually noone there and nothing but a fountain where people were filling plastic bottles with water. But when we arrived, there were people everywhere! There were decorated horses, food vendors and a souk that sold souvenirs that had been "blessed" to be brought home to relatives. And I was impressed by how clean everything was, especially the water!. There was a festive air with people spread out on blankets with picnics around the fountain. We left around 5 which got us home around 5:30.
That evening we went to another Ali's house (a young Middle School teacher who had once been one of Mostafa's students!) He lives in a lovely apartment with his mother, and we joined him with his sister and her child for a very elaborate tea. We were due to arrive at 6, but because someone stopped by a little before we were due to leave, we didn't get there til around 7:30 pm (Moroccan timetable again). There were at least five different kinds of sweets, Moroccan crepes, honey, olive oil, boiled eggs, and various spices. Ali showed us his BA thesis about the Berber language and similarities in English. And we talked about my perceptions of Morocco. He asked, as have so many, what has impressed me most. (Ironically, I was asked the same question by the participants of the workshop the next day) I told him, the Moroccan people. I know people expect me to name some city or monument or even some event or food, but in a six week exchange program such as this one, you really get to know people more than any place, because that is how you spend your time—working, eating, visiting, sleeping, shopping, etc. together. I told him (and the participants the following day) that the legendary hospitality is almost unbelievable . Hind and I joke about "American space". I've talked about how at Barnes and Noble we are not allowed to hug and touch any other employee while working. This is to protect Barnes and Noble from accusations of harassment and to ensure that noone feels uncomfortable. But here! Men hug and kiss, women walk arm in arm. Personal space is non-existent. And it's wonderful. In Islam, if you have shared a meal with someone, you are brothers. And the practice rings true. I am told over and over, "You must come back! Inshallah (God willing)" And I am already thinking about how I can make that possible.
We picked up Ali the following morning, and I think the presentation went well. Some teachers had some reservations, because as I've mentioned before, our situations are so different. But I honestly feel I had something to offer. I again talked about group activities such as peer evaluation, LOTO, listening activities, the Rassias drill, etc. I will be interested to see if I get any feedback via the internet, as I shared my e-mail address and blog with the participants.
We were slated to go to Ali Chilfi's house for lunch around 12:30, and I can't remember exactly what held us up, but we ended up there around 2 pm (Surprise! Surprise!) The meal was a delicious couscous, which was wonderful, but the highlight of the afternoon for me was meeting Fatima. She was another dynamic woman. I commented on her table setting, and we began talking about the needlework I had seen in Morocco. She handed me a beautiful napkin, and she informed me that she had done the work herself. At that point, she gave me two Berber cushion covers she had made, and I was quite overwhelmed. Her generosity was typical of what I have experienced over and over during the past five weeks, but I felt a real connection with her. I was disappointed we had only gotten to see each other this once, because I thoroughly enjoyed her company.
After lunch, which lasted til about 5, Rachid, who had been with us durng lunch, accompanied us to the medina (via the Jewish Quarter) to introduce us to a friend who then sold me the teapot I had on my list in order to show my students how tea is made here in Morocco. Hind and Mostafa also bought me a tea tray to accompany it. There generosity is really too much. En route, Mostafa was stopped by a number of relatives in the Jewish Quarter where his uncle owns a house next to the synagogue which dates from the 17th century. More than likely, the house dates from the same time period. The woodwork had unfortunately been painted over, and parts of it were in serious disrepair, but you could see what the home must have once been. It had a strong odor which I found out was as a result of the sheep that are currently being kept in the house, but it was very clean. As soon as we entered the home and greetings had been exchanged with various cousins, we were offered something to eat and drink. Because we had just left the Chilfi's home, none of us were hungry, but it would have been rude to refuse their hospitality, so we nibbled and exchanged pleasantries and then took a tour. From the rooftop you could look over the entire Jewish Quarter and I felt I had stepped back into another time period. When we got home, we discussed whether we were going to drive to Rabat via Fes or directly from Marrakech, and once we decided on the latter, I had to repack so that everything would go with us. This had me up til after 11 pm, and we got up at 4:30 the next morning in order to leave around 5:30. Eleven hours later we arrived at his sister's home in. The trip was NOT nonstop. Poor Salah got sick from all the twists and turns at the beginning of the drive; we stopped for breakfast at a cafe/restaurant in what I would have called "the middle of nowhere" and we went through the Todra Gorge, which was an experience and a half for someone as terrified of heights as I am. The gorge is located a little beyond Tinerhir and the climb is literally breathtaking. The road (which is quite narrow) winds around the mountain for about 17 km with no barriers along the edge of the road with drops of I don't know how many feet! My palms were sweaty from gripping the door of the car. But the drive was worth it! The cliffs rise about 300 meters above the water and are spectacular as they vary in different shades of pink in the changing sun. It really is one of those natural wonders that makes you feel very, very small.
By the way, I will NEVER say I live in the middle of nowhere again, because now I've seen where the middle of nowhere really is! Before reaching the gorge, we traveled for miles without seeing any habitation at all, and the land resembled something I'd seen in a photograph of the moon. We came upon a herd of camels being driven by their owner, and I don't think we saw another person for at least another 20 kilometers before or after we ran into him!
Although we were originally scheduled to arrive at Mostafa's half sister, Touda's, home for lunch, we never got there until 4:30 in the afternoon, but food was served almost immediately after we arrived leading me to believe they had waited until we got there. Before we had even exited the car, Touda came running to greet us and covered us with kisses. Multiple kisses are de rigueur here. It was obviously an emotional reunion, because apparently this was the first time they had seen each other in nearly four years. There was a lot of hand kissing, too, as is the custom in the south. Mostafa's nephew (who was 8 years older than he) served us tea in the "salon". As in all the salons I had seen in Morocco, the walls were surrounded with cushions, but this time there was no couch. Rugs were spread across the floor, and people sat on the floor. Before we started the next round of food, we took a tour of the main part of the house and were introduced to the animals: dairy cows, mules, sheep and chickens. This is a working farm, but work it truly is, because there was no indoor plumbing and no taps for water. It is drawn from a well and placed in buckets and metal jugs for various uses. For example, in the room that served as the privy, there were two metal jugs of water to wash down the refuse of the "Turkish Toilet". But in the courtyard, the water was in large buckets for washing dishes, and in the salon, the water was brought in a jug for consumption or for the preparing of tea over a gas burner. Before any food was consumed, one of the middle school aged children brought around a metal container for hand washing and a towel. It was brought around at the end of the meal as well, and some of the men gargled with the warm water and spit it into the bowl. People came and went as food was served, and because the floor is concrete (or earthen) it quickly became cold, so we were supplied with blankets. As it got darker and darker, I felt we were at a giant slumber party. The conversations took place in Berber and Arabic. Because Hind doesn't speak Berber, she had a new understanding of what I have been experiencing the past five weeks as laughter and jokes and family stories were shared in another language. I was obviously the object of much curiosity, because some of the children kept coming in to watch us and stare at me. Touda had to constantly be told that I was from the U.S., because her comprehension of the outside world went not much further than France, where one of her sons is now living. She is nearly 76 and had as much energy as the children. She was up and down a dozen times during the meal and ran a constant conversation. I hadn't a clue what she was saying, but we quickly joked over the fact that we could only say Salem Alekum (spelling?) and Alekum Salem to one another. Mostafa taught her how to say "Welcome!" which she repeated and then grabbed my hand and hugged me. There was a lot of touching, but it came very naturally.
A description of Touda's homestead could lead to a book , I am sure, because it includes 6 of her sons (of 11 children) and their wives and children. When I asked Mostafa how many people lived in the home, he said he wasn't sure, but he thought there were at least 24! His uncle's home, located next door, could hold as many as 70 when the family gathered for some celebration or another. It was true communal living, with the wives taking turns at various tasks, and the children running back and forth from room to room and outside. Mostafa indicated that everyone knew their own children, but it wasn't always clear who belonged to whom. Nearly everything they eat is harvested and made right there. We took a tour in the morning (after bunking down on the floor on tiny mattresses in the salon), and were shown the almond trees, olive trees, corn, paprika, figs, grapes etc. The milk we drank came from the cows, and the bread was made in a stone oven on the premises. All morning long, through the afternoon, we could hear some of the wives stripping the corn and then pounding it into corn meal. It is obviously a very hard life, but everyone seemed to benefit from the healthy lifestyle. We had not one breakfast, but two, because most of the household had been up at five cooking, cleaning, and milking the cows. The second breakfast consisted of almonds from their trees and rice mixed with melted sour butter. It was very good. Touda then announced that the women, specifically Hind and I, were to dress up Berber style. I don't think I've played dress up since I was little, but that was exactly what this was. We were escorted to Touda's bedroom where she pulled out caftans and lace cloth and the beaded headdresses typical of the region. Touda even took out her kohl for her eyes. And then we all posed to have our pictures taken. It was a lot of fun, although for some reason, it upset Salah immensely. He screamed when Mostafa went to take our picture and for the next 24 hours, he kept telling us how "bad" it was. And suddenly it was time for lunch! I felt like all I did for two days was eat! This time we went next door to the uncle's home and had a tajine with prunes,olive and beef. As always it was delicious. Mostafa clearly wanted to stay another day, but I discovered that although I didn't mind camping out for one night, I was ready for running water, specifically a hot shower, and a real bed, so we set out for Ouarzazate about 4 pm. We arrived around 5:30 and checked into the IBIS hotel there. We unwound from about 6-8 (I took a really long shower!) and then drove around town, ending up back at the hotel for a late dinner in the hotel restaurant. There really wasn't much to see in the town, as it is mostly a jumping off point for other places in Morocco. Its biggest claim to fame is that many movies have been made here: Lawence of Arabia, the Gladiator, and Mel Gibson's Passion of the Christ.
Tuesday morning we got up and had breakfast in the hotel by the pool. I laughed because I ended up having three cups of coffee. After drinking the strong coffee of Morocco, this tasted more like watered down dishwater to me (as well as to Hind and Mostafa). We went to the Kasbah, which is the only real site to see in town, and had a wonderful guide walk us through a small portion. The most interesting fact I learned (which was new to Hind, too) is that the postures for prayer are based on the letters in the word Allah which are shaped like a hand with the thumb and forefinger forming a circle. This we learned when we were in the "favorite wife's" bedroom, and I made a comment on the word Allah written on various walls. The smudging was not due to restoration, as I had assumed but had come from hands being put on the word as a form of prayer and blessing. As old as the Kasbah is, it's use of natural light and aeration struck me as very modern in concept. We finished the tour around noon and then started the drive to Marrakesh.
The drive was spectacular. There is no other word for it. But, three quarters of the way through the pass through the Atlas Mountains I experienced a meltdown. I never realized how terrified I was of heights (specifically of falling) until on one of the turns, Mostafa stopped to have us take in the view and I burst into tears. I felt suitably embarrassed, but my whole body was extremely tense, my right hand was sore from gripping the door handle, and it took me until near midnight to fall asleep in Marrakesh, even though I was tired, just because I was so tightly wound. I guess we don't know what we fear until we're confronted with it. At least I have the pictures so that I can enjoy the view now that the drive is over. Mostafa was great, really, and I only hope I didn't put a damper on the drive. ,The visit to the Djemaa el Fna square that night was a little less exciting than it might have been, because I couldn't really focus, and the crowds made me somewhat nervous. There were clown acts, many musicians and some women selling knitted goods. There were fortune tellers and women decorating tourists with henna. But I was actually anxious to get back to the hotel, where I got into bed and concentrated on breathing.
Today is Wednesday, the fifteenth, and in fifteen minutes, I'm supposed to meet the family for a last night in Marrakech. We spent the morning having breakfast on the terrace of a restaurant overlooking Djemaa el Fna; we walked through part of the medina (which is nothing when compared to Fes) and then took a caleche ride through town, stopping at the Majorelle Garden. The garden was wonderful, punctuated with its signature blue color on the buildings and walkways, but we stayed a very short time since we were paying the caleche driver by the hour. We had lunch at a pizzeria and then came back to the hotel to rest. I managed to get the hotel to find me an adapter for the computer, and I've been catching up on the journal and recharging the computer. I'll try and update my last memories of Marrakech tonight when we get back. Until then.
Wednesday night, the 15th
We just returned from the square, and I had so much fun! First of all, after parking the car, Hind noticed a shop that sold CDs so I purchased some music for Jacob and some drum music for my sister. Then, on entering the square, I had a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice for just 3 dirhams (which is about 35 cents!) and you know how much I love freshly squeezed orange juice! Then Hind purchased a bolt of blue cloth for me, handmade on a loom, much as we saw them do in Fes. She did the negotiating while Mostafa and I waited outside, because in general, as soon as they see me, the price doubles. Then I had henna put on my right hand and on my left ankle. Hind was very upset when they quoted an exorbitant price (according to Moroccan standards), so she got them down to something much lower (50 dirhams). As we walked away, someone bumped into me and smudged the design, so we went back and they redid part of it. What will people think when I come home with henna on my hand and leg??? But the best part and the most fun was Hind and I had our fortunes told. I went first, because this was something that Mostafa said I should have done while in Marrakesh. The woman said that there was a man that loved me very much (Hind looks at me and smiles knowingly, "Michael".) That I have family that loves me very much. She said that I have a tendency to worry, but then things settle down. She then said I would be soon involved in a big project (moving?) And that I would have another daughter. At this point, I started laughing and said, "No! I'm much too old!" At which point, she said we had misunderstood, that she meant my daughter would have a child. I laughed and said that this was acceptable! Hind had never had her fortune told, so we first ran off to get some change, and then she went back to the same woman. Her fortune differed in that she was told her mother prayed for her every day and worried about her. She was also told that she was not to worry about children, that it would all work out all right. She mentioned that she had just been given a new job (pretty uncanny, because she does have a new job) and that it would work out well. She referred to a project in process (their new apartment? the thesis?) And finally she said that she had a husband that cared for her, and that she needed to reciprocate. Hind laughed and smiled and gave the fortune teller a hug. She was giggling like a teenager, and I told her that I would miss her very much, which is so very true! Mostafa I think was suffering pretty badly from carrying Salah around and was ready to go back to the hotel, which was fine by me, since I'd done more than I had hoped for in the period of time we had in Marrakech. I am embarrassed to say I had us stop at McDonalds on the way back to the hotel, only because it was quick and I could bring it back and eat it in my room before going to bed. Tomorrow morning the plan is to get up early and leave by around 8 o'clock, stopping at Mostafa's uncle's for lunch. We will then drive on to Rabat where he will drop me off at the hotel and return home. It will be another day of driving for him. I think he's grateful that there will be a weekend to recuperate after I leave, although nothing has been said to that effect. I haven't yet packed my new purchases, but I'd best do so soon so I can get some sleep. I'm really looking forward to seeing Michael, but I'm not looking forward to the sixteen hours of travel on Friday. I feel like I've done enough of that in the past couple of days! And yet I am so grateful for all the time and effort Mostafa and Hind have taken to make this experience an unforgettable one. I hope that in March, Mostafa will feel the same way.
November 16, 2006
It's the last day! We left Marrakech around 8:30, stopped at the square for herbs for Fatima Chilfi's tea (she's from Marrakech, and the herbs are apparently different than what she can get in Fes), and then for breakfast patisseries and bread. I was hungry, so I ate in the car, but we then stopped at an Oasis Cafe (roadside chain) to fuel the tank as well as our stomachs. We headed north to Mostafa's uncle's farm. It took us a while to find the entrance and then the road was little more than gravel carved through fields of red clay. When we arrived, the entire extended family was waiting for us, and we couldn't even drive the car into the yard, because we had to get out and greet everyone! We had arrived around 12:30 and we didn't leave until nearly 4 pm. In addition to tea and brochettes and a tajine, the brought out boiled mutton with herbs for dipping and fresh fruit. They kept telling me to eat (which I was, of course), but I swear if I ate as much as everyone seems to want me to, they'd have to roll me off the plane. They still may have to! We had a tour of the farm, of which Mostafa's cousin is rightfully proud. There are olive trees and almond trees, as on Touda's farm, but there were also beehives and pomegranate trees, orange trees and various vegetables. There were pigeons, chickens, and turkeys. There were rabbits, goats and cows as well as a mare and her one-year old colt. Another lovely spread that obviously required much work, but as at Touda's farm, everyone seemed healthy and happy, and oh so glad to see Mostafa, Hind and Salah. Uncle Mohamed gave me rose water before I left, and as usual, Mostafa and Hind left with fruits from the farm. God forbid you should leave empty handed! A more generous people I have never known. Back in the car, I told Hind that in all the places I've lived and in all the countries I've lived in, this one really got under my skin. We arrived in Rabat around 8:30, said good-bye in the lobby, and I made my way to room 510 of the hotel, where Jenny has already been (and gone...one last night on the town, I guess). I've organized myself for tomorrow, but I still can't believe that six weeks have already passed. Mostafa and Hind left after dropping me off, because they had another three hours of driving ahead, and Hind has class tomorrow. I am going to miss them tremendously. As Mostafa said in the car, we've become family. We were well matched, and I can't imagine my life without them. Thank you, Macece and the Fulbright Foundation for making this exchange possible. You won't regret it.
posted by Mme Garnett | 2:43 PM
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