We've been extremely busy here in Morocco. So busy, that I haven't had a moment to even blog. All has been going well for the most part. Last week we had a lot of hours of class and documentary screenings, both of which are questionable uses of my time. We wrapped up four interviews here in Rabat last week, which was fun and yet tiring. Then, last Friday we hopped yet again on the bus and headed east to see Meknés and Fez for the weekend.
We stopped at the most beautiful Roman Ruins in Volubilis, and took as many photos as... well as we were allowed. (Yes, there was someone who tried to rush us around and limit the number of photos we took... No, I didn't take lightly to it.)
We walked through the Medina (main market) in both Meknés and Fez. In Fez we sat for lunch at some restaurant where I couldn't eat much (anything but mushy cooked vegetables and bread). Later we made it to this cafe where we were supposed to order things like hot chocolate and milk shakes, ... except they had a menu, ... that had food, and yes, yes they had felafel, my all time favorite food. So, since I was starving I indulged as Becca shared a slice of double chocolate cheesecake with the rest of the table. The waiters there all wore hoodies as their uniform, navy blue sweatshirts that said "CLOCK" on the front in Orange, the name of the cafe... and well you see, we had all been so cold all day that many of us all bought the sweatshirt while we were there. No regrets. Solid decision. So soft, so warm.
Quite honestly all of the tours have been so jam packed that I honestly can't think of anything else that we did. But at least the ruins stick out right?
Now here is the real story:
Over the weekend we got to spend two nights in Meknés... not in a hotel, not in a hostel, but with a host family. Three students to a family, me, Becca, and Kaitlyn. I don't even know how to start this story. We had the most amazing host family ever, that's the main point. Mom, Dad, Hamza who was 20, Omar who was 10, and Muhamed who was 5, a house of three boys welcomed us three girls beyond graciously into their home. There is just something to be said about people who open up their homes to foreign students, and all of those things are extremely positive. From Mamá in Oaxaca, Mexico, to Shila in Kathmandu, Nepal, to this glorious, beautiful, smiling, laughing, Moroccan woman, I love them all. Our host father owned a shop just underneath the house, a tailor, tried desperately to communicate with us in French, with no success I might add. Hamza got away with a few phrases in Spanish, but no english, not out of any of them. In the morning they asked us if we had been cold the night before (after they brought us 24 zillion thick heavy blankets) by putting their hands in front of their chests and pretending to shiver, then placing their palms together and tilting their head, hands under head, to signify sleeping. We were asked every night and every morning if we wanted to shower, but this was communicated through mine and Becca's knowledge of "ducharse" in Spanish, meaning to shower, similar in French and our host parents and Hamza motioning a shower of their heads. Every time we denied they looked a little disgusted, no lies.
The real best part though is little five-year-old Muhamed. Muhamed drew with Becca, ran around singing the Qur'an, (and we would clap for him after), renamed the three of us, Zineb, Salawa, and Ikram from the Qur'an, pointed at a picture from a childrens book and yelled "Satan" in Arabic and jumped away, dropped the book and pretended enthusiastically to scream, rode around on a little plastic tricycle, drew on the walls with a black marker and got in trouble, played enthusiastically with a small rattle, and never stopped rambling on in Arabic despite none of the three of us understanding a single word he said. He was a beautiful, wonderful little man. We nearly cried saying goodbye. It only took two days for that family to completely steal our hearts. I would go back in a heart beat.
So that was our weekend trip to Meknés and Fez!
We stopped at the most beautiful Roman Ruins in Volubilis, and took as many photos as... well as we were allowed. (Yes, there was someone who tried to rush us around and limit the number of photos we took... No, I didn't take lightly to it.)
We walked through the Medina (main market) in both Meknés and Fez. In Fez we sat for lunch at some restaurant where I couldn't eat much (anything but mushy cooked vegetables and bread). Later we made it to this cafe where we were supposed to order things like hot chocolate and milk shakes, ... except they had a menu, ... that had food, and yes, yes they had felafel, my all time favorite food. So, since I was starving I indulged as Becca shared a slice of double chocolate cheesecake with the rest of the table. The waiters there all wore hoodies as their uniform, navy blue sweatshirts that said "CLOCK" on the front in Orange, the name of the cafe... and well you see, we had all been so cold all day that many of us all bought the sweatshirt while we were there. No regrets. Solid decision. So soft, so warm.
Quite honestly all of the tours have been so jam packed that I honestly can't think of anything else that we did. But at least the ruins stick out right?
Now here is the real story:
Over the weekend we got to spend two nights in Meknés... not in a hotel, not in a hostel, but with a host family. Three students to a family, me, Becca, and Kaitlyn. I don't even know how to start this story. We had the most amazing host family ever, that's the main point. Mom, Dad, Hamza who was 20, Omar who was 10, and Muhamed who was 5, a house of three boys welcomed us three girls beyond graciously into their home. There is just something to be said about people who open up their homes to foreign students, and all of those things are extremely positive. From Mamá in Oaxaca, Mexico, to Shila in Kathmandu, Nepal, to this glorious, beautiful, smiling, laughing, Moroccan woman, I love them all. Our host father owned a shop just underneath the house, a tailor, tried desperately to communicate with us in French, with no success I might add. Hamza got away with a few phrases in Spanish, but no english, not out of any of them. In the morning they asked us if we had been cold the night before (after they brought us 24 zillion thick heavy blankets) by putting their hands in front of their chests and pretending to shiver, then placing their palms together and tilting their head, hands under head, to signify sleeping. We were asked every night and every morning if we wanted to shower, but this was communicated through mine and Becca's knowledge of "ducharse" in Spanish, meaning to shower, similar in French and our host parents and Hamza motioning a shower of their heads. Every time we denied they looked a little disgusted, no lies.
The real best part though is little five-year-old Muhamed. Muhamed drew with Becca, ran around singing the Qur'an, (and we would clap for him after), renamed the three of us, Zineb, Salawa, and Ikram from the Qur'an, pointed at a picture from a childrens book and yelled "Satan" in Arabic and jumped away, dropped the book and pretended enthusiastically to scream, rode around on a little plastic tricycle, drew on the walls with a black marker and got in trouble, played enthusiastically with a small rattle, and never stopped rambling on in Arabic despite none of the three of us understanding a single word he said. He was a beautiful, wonderful little man. We nearly cried saying goodbye. It only took two days for that family to completely steal our hearts. I would go back in a heart beat.
So that was our weekend trip to Meknés and Fez!
Hi Bri, I am using your Dad's computer to comment. This is Joyfull...or Gma Gries. It was so nice to see and talk to you a few minutes ago. Your families that you fall in love with so easily do sound like sweet people. For their sake, take a shower! lol.......we love you so much and are so pleased with all you are doing....take care and come visit us when you can....gma and papa
ReplyDeleteHi Bri, Summer tells me that people are having trouble commenting so I thought I'd give it a shot and see what happens. As always your photos are beautiful! Rachel
ReplyDeleteAlways nice to hear confirmation of "good" people living "good" lives in all corners of the world - thanks for sharing. Love, Dad
ReplyDelete