Chefchaouen

I have just returned from the best weekend. I took my first weekend trip, along with 4 friends, to a small mountain town called Chefchaouen. No time spent thus far has proved better that in Morocco you never know what to expect, and I love it!

I headed to the bus station on rainy Friday afternoon. We had about an hour to wait and ended up meeting two other Americans, Roxy and Drew also traveling to Chefchaouen. The bus ride was uneventful save for a few awkward bathroom stops (the toilets were holes in the ground) and a rather unnerving shaky bus driving on wet mountain roads. We arrived in Chefchaouen at about 8:30 pm and immediately noticed the temperature drop from the moderate climate in Rabat. We made our way up the slick steep streets (it felt like San Fransicso!) to the Medina. Our hotel was a tiny hole in the wall place nestled into the Medina alleyways. We had two rooms, one with two beds and the other three. There was a bathroom for the

floor to share and a communal living room lined with the traditional sofa. When we arrived there were two Australian boys in the other room on the floor. They were hanging out in the common room watching Amelie (cute). We talked for a bit and then headed out in search of food. At this point I should mention that Nate, the boy in our group, has already been in Morocco 8 months and is superb at arabic and knows Chefchaouen pretty well. So we were in good hands with our own personal tour guide and translator :)

We wandered into the square near our hotel and found a restaurant. This was our first experience realizing, 1. that the town is overcrowded with dread locked hippies, 2. that restaurants don't really have an inside and if so it's not heated, and 3. that Chefchaouen is bilingual like Rabat but instead of Arabic and French it is Arabic and Spanish, a welcome

change. After a filling meal we retreated to our hotel rooms suffering what we were sure was the beginning signs of hypothermia. We had some wine and talked before it was time for bed.

Saturday we slept in as long as we could. We were able to stay warm in our unheated hotel on account of 5 blankets each and nearly all the clothes we brought layered on. I took my first hot shower in a while (don't worry I go to the hammam quite often) and it was wonderful, though quite cold after and there were no towels. Before leaving the hotel we ventured up to the rooftop of our hotel where you can easily see the while city and the mountains beyond the valley. We left the hotel and headed straight for a nut roasting stand down the alley. Hooray for a warm bag of sugar coated peanuts. Then we took a self-guided tour of the Kasbah. Inside the walls of the Kasbah we found a park and ancient ruins of the fortress to explore. We climbed up a tall tower and could see the whole city with it's blue buildings built into the mountains. We ended up asking a man working there to take our picture and ended

up getting a personal tour of the museum in Arabic and Spanish as well a number of other "professional" (we were told) pictures taken by him. He had my friend Leah pose in a senior picture like pose in a fountain, Nate posed in front of a mirror for an angled picture, and got to sit in a traditional wedding seat . Afterwards we went for lunch at Said's Restaurant. Said is a young welcoming Moroccan man who has owned the restaurant for about two years. Nate and him are friends, or course, so we got what I felt like was special treatment. We spent a good 2 hours drinking tea, eating delicious foods, and people watching in the Medina square near us. At one point a little girl and a shopowner got into a mock fight the girl giggling and pretending to run as the man pretended to throw things at her. I saw a man fall on the wet slippery tiles and everyone stopped and rushed over to help him. Chefchaouen is a kind place.

We all greed that wandering around Chefchaouen felt like being in a cozy swiss mountain village. We left the restaurant with an offer to come back in the evening and learn to cook our favorite dish from lunch. We wandered around the breathtaking blue alleyways of the Medina full of traditionally dressed men and women with babies strapped to their backs. Little boys walked by by holding hands or arms draped over each others shoulders. My favorite pick up line of they day was, "Hello flower" which we heard twice. We all bought leather bracelets, postcards, earrings, and blankets. We spent at least half an hour haggling in a weaving store that had the most gorgeous blankets of every color combination you can imagine. Then we hiked up to a historic mosque up on a hill overlooking the town. It was a nice chance to hike and feel separate from the city. Of course it was at this point that my camera battery decided to die so I will have to rely on others pictures from this, the most breathtaking part of the trip :(

After that we were ready for some hot drinks and headed to a cafe for coffee and hot chocolate. On the way we stopped into a music store and purchased, Moroccan Party Hits and some other rockin' Moroccan tunes. That night we headed back to Said's Restaurant where I had probably the most incredible experience thus far. We were invited back into the tiny kitchen where Said and Feysal taught us how to cook a feast of Moroccan food. We certainly got our hands dirty and had so much fun. To top things off the entire feast was given to us free at their insistence,

saying that we are all family now. We were in an awkward position, so grateful and not wanting to give nothing for this rich feast but at the same time not wanting to leave money and offend. We decided we would meet them for drinks at a nearby hotel and pay for what they ordered there. We met them and ordered a round of gin and tonic's. We talked, and by we I mostly mean Nate as he translated and we chimed in occasionally. Finally when we were all half asleep we said goodnight and returned to our cold hotel once more. We spent the night talking, laughing, playing cards and of course 10 fingers.

Our return journey Sunday was quite an adventure as well as a dose of culture shock. We woke up after what felt like one hour of sleep and sleepily walked in the cold rain to the bus station. We found out then that the 7 am bus we were sure wouldn't be full, was. Luckily there was still room on the second class bus leaving at 7:30. As we were buying our tickets the driver was manually starting the bus somewhere in the engine, not a good sign. The bus itself was fine on the inside and at the beginning we each had our own two seats to ourselves and were planning to sleep the whole way. Not so. For the nearly 6 hour bus ride the bus continued to stop every 20 minutes on any random spot on the side of the road to pick up more passengers. I soon had to move seats and had all my stuff sitting on my lap the rest of the trip. For sure I thought the bus would stop letting people on once all the seats were full. Not so. The bus continued to stop and more and more people filled the aisle. Mothers began fighting over seats for their children and a lady may or may not have been throwing up a few seats up. Eventually we realized that the bus wouldn't go straight to Rabat so I tried asking the bus attendant when we would arrive but he answered in French. He must have understood what I asked though because soon he

was yelling something at us as the bus stopped and we realized we needed to switch buses. We hurriedly gathered out things and rushed onto another bus.

This bus was much less crowded but no less ridiculous. A boy's phone behind us kept making a sword swishing sound and exclaiming "Sparta!". Through the entire ride a man in a turban stood in the aisle preaching about something, kissing peoples foreheads, and selling them bags of some pebble looking things. We are pretty sure at some point that he may have told us we are going to hell. People seemed to like him and were giving him money and laughing at jokes he was saying, for all we know they could have been about us! Finally after what seemed like a month of traveling we reached the bus station, grabbed a taxi, and headed home to food, warm beds, and comfort. I was amazed at the comfort I felt being back in Rabat, I felt at home. Coming home to my host family felt just like coming home to my own bed and my own loving family.

I learned a lot on my first weekend trip in Morocco. The list is long and includes but is not limited to: Bring many layers of clothing, always bring a towel, don't forget to charge your camera fully, buy bus tickets in advance, avoid second class busses, go with the flow, and that home is always the place you want to come back to.

Most importantly I learned, and am still learning, that in Morocco you never know what to expect when you wake up in the morning.

tea pong

The start of the week came bright and early 6:30 Monday morning, something I am already getting sick of. After classes we had a talk by Michael Peyron a white haired kind faced englishman. He gave us a quick history lesson on the Berber of Amazigh people of North Africa. He is going to be our tour guide on the three group trips we will be taking this semester. He was a very entertaining, jolly man and I am looking forward to being led our trips by him. Around the end of the talk a wonderful storm took place outside. Pouring rain pounded on the roof, thunder sounded, and bright flashes of lightning lit up the sky. I stepped onto the school balcony to listen to the sounds and watch the wind whip some clothing hanging on the rooftop nearby. That night we met our Moroccan language and culture partners who are Moroccan college students that we are paired up with and who are invited to all of the cultural nights which happen about once a week. At first it felt 8th grade dance -ish

as we stood separate in the room. We started to branch out and I first met a Moroccan named Younes, but really It's My Life which I eventually understood to be his nickname. We then played a get to know you game, again 8th grade summer camp-ish, but I know I'm not alone in saying it was super fun. I finally met my very own partner whose name is Mouna a 20 year old student at Muhammad V University who loves the OC and likes to dance and sing for fun. We hit it off and I can already see us becoming great friends in the future.

Tuesday after school Brittini and I came home and headed straight to the roof, which we joyously discovered is accessible earlier this week. We spent a few hours up there reading, eating chocolate, admiring the rooftops of Rabat and Atlantic Ocean stretching on to eternity.

Oh the beauty of this world.

Wednesday was the day of my first quiz in Darija arabic, yikes! Despite the knots in my stomach telling me I wasn't going to do very well I believe that I did, though I can always use more practice Insha'alah. It was another drippy and windy day in Rabat and we made it home relatively dry only to curl up in our beds and listen to the wind gusting outside out window. It took a lot of self-encouragement but I pulled myself out of bed at 7 and headed out into the dark stormy night for the first time alone to meet up with some friends. It was actuallyrather liberating and I found that with my hood up, under a shroud of darkness (my blond hair hidden) I was relatively unnoticed on the street.My friends and I made our way to the Medina, my boots completely soaked through after only a few minutes of walking After meeting up with a few others we headed to a real live Moroccan elementary school for a party. I know what you're thinking, whaaaat? I am still thinking the same thing. Apparently the dad of one of the Moroccans in the group owns or runs the school or something, so after hours they decided to use the space for a party. And a party it was. There was food, drink, music coming from a laptop and speakers set up in the room. There were about 7 Moroccans and the rest us American students but I still got to meet some other great Moroccans my age. We talked, ate, drank, danced, sang, and played tea pong. That's Beer pong minus the beer, plus Moroccan mint tea, sooo good. It was a fantastic time had by all! I returned home giddy with the energy of a teenager coming home from a school dance.

Now here I am about to depart on my first traveling adventure in Morocco. I and four others are catching a bus today at 2, for a five hour journey, headed to the Northwestern city of Chefchaouen. Get ready to be bombarded with pictures upon my return, the town is painted blue!

B'salma for now friends.

Where is my Habibi?

The wind is wildly whipping around my window and raindrops are pelting the building as I'm snuggling into my blanket covered bed. It has been a stormy week in Rabat. It began this weekend when Saturday the skies turned gray and menacing above us. We started the morning off once again with a visit to the Hammam. This time we ventured into the third and hottest chamber. This proved to be too much when about an hour later Brittini and I found ourselves stumbling out into the coolest room and quickly sitting down to keep from fainting. We then met our fellow students and program manager Doha in the Medina to do some shopping for all the cute clothes we left behind. We maneuvered the Medina easily at first finding piles of rather sketchy clothes (many had holes from security tags and one girl found a security tag still on a shirt she purchased) for only 3o dirham= almost $4. Doha it turns out is a world class bargainer as well and would argue endlessly in Arabic, French, and Berber if needed in order to get us all the best deal. Love her. In the end I went away with three uber cute dress/shirts and a pair of brown oxford shoes for less than $50, score!

That night I spent at home with my sisters and host mom. We shared a big bowl of pasta and another of popcorn(!) and I ended up staying up late laughing and having fun with them all. I shared photos from home and Rabia my host mom could not stop laughing at the funny faces I make in them. Sara my host sister brought out some of her childhood photos to share with me. We mimicked each others accents and it was pretty hilarious to hear my host mothers

impression of english. My host sister shared with me all the music on her phone, the likes of Justin Bieber and Avril Lavigne, singing along to anything we knew. Then we stood out on the balcony for a while listening to music and looking for Fatima's habibi. There is nothing like a night like this to make you feel you have found a new home and a long lost family :)

Sunday was quite relaxing, just like I like em'. Slept in, watched some cartoons (Tom and Jerry and Looney Toons), and of course read and did homework all day. We helped our host mom prepare the Tajine by peeling and slicing veggies again, a task I am getting better at. Later in the evening we took a break from the days work and ventured out with our host sister Fatima to a nearby salon to get our hair done. I was not surprised to find that salons are a universal

gossip haven for women. Something quite different is the lack of hair instruments, everything you could ever want done is done with hairdryers here. So I got my hair straightened, my roommate got hers curled and our host sister got her waist length hair cut and styled all while listening to the women gossip in arabic. After we took a trip to the supermarjet to get some much needed chocolate and settled in for the rest of the night.

Nothing short of thankful

I am sitting here in my room, about to pass out, and thinking back to my whirlwind week. And what a whirlwind real first week it was.

Classes began this week, which means Monday-Friday a 6:40 am wake-up call, breakfast, and a 40 minute walk to school. I'm not complaining by any means, though I also wouldn't complain if I could sleep a little bit later :) The first week of school is shopping week when all the students are allowed and encouraged to attend the classes they are interested in and then by the end of the week be decided on which classes he/she will take. So I did just that. Classes were for the most part interesting, some more than others. Wednesday in a class called, "The Islamic World and the West", we already had a guest speaker, a friend of the professor. He had just flown in on an evacuation flight from Tunisia. He gave us some history of the country, background of the events taking place there, and told the story of his first-hand experience there. Pretty amazing stuff. In my, "Islam and Gender" class we are already reading about the concept of "gender" in the Arabophone or Arabic speaking world. In "Contemporary Moroccan Culture" we have read about Ramadan in Morocco as well as a short story entitled "The Merchant of Heaven" about Brother Lemon and American who tries to bring christianity to Ghana but does not understand the culture and is not open to the people. Then there's Arabic, Fusha everyday at 8:30 in the morning and Darija Monday and Wednesday. The Foosha teacher is wonderful but I am quickly discovering I have a LOT of work to do. Let the studies begin!

Family time this week was also wonderful. I am beginning to feel more and more at home in my room, the apartment, and with my family. Each day I find that Brittini and I seem to want to return to our welcoming host family and comfortable home. I love nighttime here when we all gather in the "living room" after our long days to eat from communal dishes of food, share our days, and usually laugh and giggle together about silly Soap Opera's or Arabic comedians. One night they brought out family pictures of a cousins wedding and took great pride in showing each one too us. We were amazed at the extravagant dress and the number of times it seems the bride changed, I swear it was more than 10 times! Another night we were all mesmerized by a Bollywood film that had the favorite actress of my host sister in it. My host sister Fatima is proving to be not just a new sister but also a teacher, she encourages us to practice or Darija and even tests us. She helped me practice reading through a dialogue I need to learn for class. Last night we looked through a book about Morocco and planned a weekend trip for the beginning of February to a beach town called Agadir with our host sister Sara. Perhaps the funniest and most Universal moment occurred last night with our host sister Fatima, who is the smallest person and is always leaping up and running across the apartment for something. She of course jumped up and ran out of the room but just as she was rounding the corner we could see her little feet catch the rug as she went tumbling to the ground. Of course she was fine, we were informed that it happens all the time, and we all cracked up laughing for a few minutes. Perfect unity.

Random adventures, this week I seem to have had plenty. Wednesday night I went for my second time to Up Stairs to meet two other girls and one of the two boys in our program. We shared some wine and

had good conversation and I was planning to head home pretty early but soon enough we all ended up in taxi's on our way to the Kasbah. We followed Nate, who has already been here a semester, through the windy deserted streets and stumbled down the dark rocky backside of the Kasbah. It was worth it. We sat atop the ledge of an ancient wall looking out over the water where the ocean meets the Oued Bou Regreg river.

It was a full moon, the lights of city were twinkling, and we all were overcome with, what may sound like a silly realization, that we are in Morocco. After, on our way out we looked back at the Ocean and offhand I mentioned that I had never touched the Atlantic Ocean, ever. We hesitated for only a moment before turning back and heading to Ocean. Once we hit the sand I took of running and touched the Atlantic Ocean for the first time, ever. It was a magical night. Then on Friday the whole group met up at Mega Mall for ice skating, which turned out to be one of the fanciest malls I've been to. We hit the ice with Moroccan pre-teen couples and skated our hearts out. Some had never skated, many fell; we danced, we sang, we had tons of fun.

So I can rightfully say that I would not want anything different from my first real week in Morocco. I am nothing short of thankful...for the Avett Brothers who say it better...

I know I’m up and down.
Please, try to (accept)
Apologies for the sadness that I’ve found.
The years we’ve (spent)
Nothing short of grateful for our trip.
And those we’ve (met)
Nothing short of thankful.
Nothing’s gonna change my mind,
I’m travelin’ a different highway.
Nothing’s gonna change my mind.
I’m walkin’ a different line.
Oh, nothing’s gonna change my mind.
You’ll find what you need if you want it.
Nothing’s gonna change my mind.
I’ll find mine.

The wonder that's keeping the stars apart

12 days. Twelve days I havebeen in Morocco today. I felt the urge today to count the number of days I have been in this country. Just enough time to start to feel a pang of longing for loved ones at home but also to grow comforted on my walk home, knowing I was returning to my new Moroccan home. This place full of kind generous people has already lived up to the all encompassing term, "home". I have a family who already has welcomed me as one of their own; I am blessed with dinners to fill my stomach each night, a room to share with a bed piled with blankets, and a feeling of contentment to feed my soul. I am reminded though that things are different here; I am forced to live without, to go outside of my comfort zone, to live in a very different way than I am used to. And for this I am thankful. I came to Morocco knowing I would not have a normal or easy experience. Living in a less developed country, learning a new and difficult language, becoming familiar with a culture and religion that sees life and the world differently than anything I have been exposed to before. I am ready for this.

It is time for me to distance myself from everything I know and have always known. To be away from those I love and sometimes depend on. Time to feel uneasy, scared, uncomfortable, and maybe even sad. But I know that these feelings, moments when I want to burst into tears, will not come without great rewards. In the end I will have learned a beautiful and meaningful language. I will have lived within a culture completely different from my own and learned from it, learned things I can share with others. I will understand better a religion that I and much of the world know little about. I will have formed strong, lasting relationships with Moroccans and others. I will have taken tests and written papers. But most importantly I will have developed a "Me" outside of the me I know now. Across the Atlantic with nothing but a suitcase all I have is myself to depend on. So the challenge will be to discover a "me" that is truly without a doubt nothing but ME. I will have a greater vision of who I am, what I stand for, my beliefs, my quirks, my talents, my likes and dislikes, and my life passion. With this I will be able to work toward the best me I can be.

I believe in all of my being that this will come from my experience in Morocco, and so it will be, Insha'Allah!

...here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

- ee cummings

Layla Saida friends

More pictures and news on how my first week of classes is going to come!

Beauty found

Ssalam u 3alaykum all.

Today is a day for picture of my new home. Clothes pins, my neighborhood with clothes hanging from every balcony. My bedroom, the entrance room, lunchtime tajine's, my new slippers, and the room we spend the most time in to eat and watch many Arab soap opera's. Enjoy the beauty of my new life here in Morocco. It is a wonderful place that is filled with beautiful language, kind and welcoming people, delicious food, family time, social experiences, and a charm that I can already feel seeping into my soul. One week in Morocco has already changed me and I am only beginning to understand the ways it will change we in four months. For now I am opening myself up to all this country and culture has to show me about life. I am ready and wiling to expand, grow, learn, create relationships, and understand more about myself through knowledge of others. Here's to a new experience in a land called Maghreb!

Up Stairs

Today was the last day of orientation Hamdullahe (praise be to god)! Learning and doing so much important stuff every moment is kind of exhausting to say the least. Today was all about education because our classes start on monday. Brittini and I found our way to school without a problem, hooray for us. We spent the morning learning about differences in the education system in Morocco and America. In Morocco education is teacher centered, the Qur'an has a saying that says essentially, a teacher is eq

ual to a prophet. Thus classes are mostly lecture, most class time is spent taking notes, no reading is done for discussion and most think

ing by the students takes place at test taking time. We also got to meet our professors and learn a bit about the classes. One I am really excited about is on Islam and gender, we get to visit some women's organizations in Morocco for the class.

We spent a great deal of time wandering around Agdal today as well. During breaks in the orientation schedule we walked around looking in shops, getting qhwa (coffee), and running errands. We checked out two gyms that we want to sign up for and looked around a book store. After lunch commenced the longest darija arabic lesson of my life, 3 hours! Needless to say I have only had 2 darija arabic lessons so far but still, 3 hours! Our sweet teacher taught us a popular Moroccan song and the whole class sang it over and over again. The story of the song is of a girl asking her love if he likes her. We then learned about an opportunity to volunteer teaching english twice a week, I am eager to volunteer and become involved in the community.

In the evening we had a small dinner with the students and faculty in the program. We milled around and talked meeting more professors and two of the other students who have already been here for a semester. The food was bite size sweet and savory treats. Most were mysterious so I adopted taste testers to check the snacks for meat. We were about

to leave with two other host girls and the one and only host boy we've met when we stared talking to some guys who teach english at AMIDEAST, Trent, Gavin, and John. They invited us to Up Stairs for a drink. This marked my first bar experience! The bar was fun inside though I noticed immediately the telltale blonde heads of foreigners. We all got drinks and talked for a while listening to stories about life in Morocco and also about how the girls in Tennessee might seem sweet but can punch hard, Trent's first hand experience. We said goodbye and caught a taxi back home using some of our newly learned darija arabic.

After we got home we got to meet our other host sister Amina. She is in a wheelchair and can't speak much but she seemed happy to meet us. We practiced our arabic with Fatima and Rabia and sang them the song we learned but mostly forgot. They said this is a song that all Moroccan girls know. Tomorrow begins our first weekend here and I am guessing it will be used for sleep and relaxation. In the morning Fatima is going to take us to the Hammam, or bathhouse that is very popular here. So now I must lay my weary head down to rest.

tsbh 3la khir (Good night)

Awkward turtle...

The majority of today was spent walking. Walking here walking there, walking up (many stairs) walking down, walking all around. The next Doctor Seuss eh? Woke up bright and early at 5:50 am when the call to prayer went

off at the Mosque right across the street from our apartment. I was able to go back to sleep until around 7:30 for my alarm,which I have finally figured out! I might also mention that there is a rooster in an apartment across the street from us that crows not only when the sun rises but also nearly every 30 minutes after that.

Brittini and I ate a quick breakfast with our host mother and sister and headed to AMIDEAST. It was about a 30-44 minute walk. It was lovely to get out and walk in the brisk morning air with our host sister Fatima. She is very easy to talk with, eager to learn and to help teach us Darija (Moroccan arabic). At AMIDEAST we told each other stories about our first night with homestay families. All seems well, some host families are very modern, some speak mostly french, come are very busy and never home, while others stayed up late on their sofa's talking. Of course my homestay seems to be the best :)

Then came time for the Rabat challenge, a scavenger hunt throughout the city and a whole lot of walking. I and four other girls hit the town! We had to get pictures of various places, a cafe, internet hot spot, pharmacy, bank, etc. Also we needed to go to the Medina and buy a gift and something ambiguous for the rest to guess it's purpose. We headed towards our homestay's to show each other our new homes. Along the way we passed a high school which must have just gotten out for lunch because crowds of youngsters were gathered around. We caused the biggest ruckus I have ever caused. Everyone was yelling things and boys were drumming on the cars, we're kind of a big deal I guess.

We magically found our way everywhere we needed to go without barely looking at the map. We stumbled upon homestay's, wandered right up to the walls of the Medina, came out the other

side, remembered our way to the post office and train station, and jumped in a taxi saying, "McDonalds Agdal," and they took us to the McDonalds right around the corner from AMIDEAST! Needless to say we felt pretty accomplished.

We gave presentations of our days, revealed our ambiguous objects which were interesting cookie cutters in the shape of a pyramid, swirly design, and the Hamsa. During tea time after we arrived home I spoke the most arabic consecutively since I arrived in Morocco. Brittini and I worked our hardest to communicate with Rabia the host mom and it actually worked. We gave them our gifts from home and had a very enjoyable meal. Later I taught Fatima some American hand gestures and meanings like "high five", and "awkward turtle" and I learned others. My personal favorite is "Shooma" which you say as you pull down the skin beneath your eye with your index finger, it means shame. Then of course some good ol' Moroccan soap opera's to end the night. In this one the jealous housewife made her maid change her name to her mothers in order to scare her husband away from here. Oy Vey, what will

they think of next!

Layla sa3ida (goodnight)

p.s. this is the view from my room