Tuesday, January 6, 2015

Wrapping it Up, and Not Enough

Today Becca and I woke up super early before class to head to the souks (market) and buy a zillion last minute gifts. So early in fact that no one else was awake, including the shop owners themselves. We sat on a bench and watched a man nail his car front and back on the curbs approximately 7 times in the process of attempting to parallel park. After, shopping was a success but left us feeling extremely, extremely poor. We raced home in time to grab our laptops and notebooks and speed walk to class. Class was class. Slow. Kind of boring today, though we did get to talk about Detroit and Dearborn which no worries I gleamed while it happened and explained triumphantly that my sister works there! When my professor asked if she ever brought home any goodies I was proud to say Hijabs and Baklava appropriately. 

We made it home, went through all of our gifts and I hate to say it but I started packing. I chose my last four outfits that I would wear in this magnificent country and started to shove the rest in every nook and cranny. We got shawarma for dinner, as we nearly do every night, and then have worked on our documentary script the rest of the night until I started to sleep answer Becca's questions. We both showered and are off to sleep early because we have class in the morning, along with a long day of scriptwriting and reading and studying for our other final on Friday. We are all completely exhausted here. At our wits end. 

Amongst that though, Becca and I have already had the discussion about coming back to Morocco after graduation and further working on this project. We have come so far integrating ourselves into this community, making bizarre connections with people I never dreamed of meeting. This project falls so perfectly into a realm of anthropological research and journalistic coverage that I don't know how I could resist coming back. 

Four weeks was not enough. I'm just now learning the money and the languages and my way around. There are streets in every direction I still haven't explored. 

Four weeks is barely enough time for you to taste a culture, but I did. I came, I came to Morocco with no clue what it would be like, no expectations in mind. It's Arab but it's Africa but Islam but Europe but Spain but the ocean but hijabs and Arabic but French? But wait what? 

I had no clue what an amazing complex culture I was stepping into. This place is bizarre with strange cultures and traditions and practices and beautiful wonderful people and camels and cows and goats, beaches and soccer, and trams fancier than I've ever seen, busses and taxis and petit taxis. Souks and cats everywhere. Cats. On cats on cats. Graveyards and rituals and women in strange red snuggies with puppies on them. Yala shabeb. Gelabas that are not to be confused with KKK robes and women in white when they are in mourning, but only for four months and ten days. Shawafas. Le bes. Bread. Cats and Tagine and Cous Cous, cucumbers and juice and paninis and fries and paninis and pizza and paninis and fries and paninis. Fromage. Weird Fromage. Mint tea, everyday all day in small glasses out of a silver tea pit who's handle is so hot you are guaranteed 1st degree burns if you accidentally touch it. Humdullah. Bread. Yala. Cats and the ocean and graveyards. Bus rides and markets and medinas and mosques and cookies and soccer and tagine and Cous Cous. Shawarma. Shoukran. Fiqh. Clementines until you're itchy, well at least until I'm itchy. French and Arabic combined into one. Dirija. Bread. Friends on the street. Bread and eggs. Leather shops that smell like death. Yala shabeb. Shawafas. Tight winding streets of the Fez Medina. Women in Nikabs and Burqas and Hijabs and Tight jeans, and tight dresses, dyed hair flowing with mounds of make up. Arabic TV, soap operas. Yala. A red flag with a green star. Shawafas. Giant posters of the King wherever you go. Literally wherever. Every single store, shop, library, office, school, etc. Cats. Paninis. Henna. Mint tea. Cats. Bread. Yala shabeb. Shawafas. Fiqh. Shoukran. Fez. Meknés. Casablanca. Marrakech. Tangier. Chef Chaouen. Asilah. Rabat. Morocco.

Four weeks is barely enough.

3 comments:

  1. it's sad for me too ... hearing about all the shopping exploits and KNOWING that you can't have my name two years in a row for the gift exchange ... uncle steve ;-)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hey Girl...you are having the time of your life, and I am so happy for you. As long as you can remain happy and safe, I love everything you are doing. Your work is so satisfying to you and that means everything. Your love of the country and its people is surprising, but so rewarding to hear about. I have many, many new words to look up in this post, but one I understand fully...Tagine....I happen to have one and do use it from time to time. You may have it, if you want it. Love, gma gries

    ReplyDelete
  3. Loved your blog. I also missed your Uncle Steve's comments, so sorry he was late in getting them in :)
    See you soon, stay smart, safe & caring as you are.
    love, granny

    ReplyDelete