I realize I haven't really described my life here in Morocco. I am quickly falling into the relaxed rhythm of life, while learning to live with the constant stares from the Moroccan women, and the relentless hackling from the Moroccan men. I truly stand out here, and the stares can be quite unsettling. But, like most tourists, you learn to live with it, and I have met many Moroccans in my neighborhood who now know me by face and warmly wave hi to me as I walk to and from from school. I pretty much get up at 7:00am to take a shower and eat breakfast consisting of tea, bread, a little cheese and jam. We walk up to the taxi stand when we are ready, and pay about 8 dirhams to get to school (about one dollar). I have class from 8am to 10am with 9 other students. Our Arabic class and the students will get a blog of their own... but I am the only other girl besides an older woman. Otherwise its 8 other young men who are a lot of fun, and I am excited to get to know each of them. My schedule will get more busy, but then we usually go and eat an amazing fruit salad with yogurt in a cafe a few streets away, and chill from 10 until my next class at 2pm. Then I have class from 2-4pm on Arabic grammar, and I am usually exhausted after that. I go home and crash until its time for soccer! That will also need its own blog, but pretty much my friend Karim, who's Italian with a little Algerian in him, and I are organizing a team and we have about 8 other kids so far. I run around and just roam the streets with the other kids on my soccer team until dinner at around 9pm and then go home to eat dinner. Its a pretty free life... time is not too strict, and people always stop to have a conversation. There will be more to come, but that was just a quick summary!
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| First day of School! Amazing fresh fruit salad! |
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| Second day of school... fruit salad still amazing! :) |
I am sitting here in the living room of my host family after my roommate from my Arabic school has just vomited from probably a bacteria upsetting her stomach, and my host mom and sister were not here to witness it. I took care of her and cleaned up everything as best I could and put her to bed. Now im just waiting for my host mom and sister to return where im going to try and use my utterly inadequate Arabic to explain what happened. Many of the students are sick or just getting over a stomach bug. I really hope I don't get sick, and so far so good.
After taking care of Emma, I went and took a shower, for both my mental and physical wellbeing. In the shower I had a brief moment of realization, a moment where I knew I was truly in Morocco. I was standing in the bathroom after carefully turning on the gas tank and pressing a button that gives off a spark to light the gas and warm the water. You know its on when you can see the flame... simple enough. Once I had waited for the water to heat, I turned on the water, and began to scrub the day's grime off my body. I let my mind wonder and my lungs to inhale the cool air wafting in through the window that was completely open to the outside. As the cool night air came in, it carried with it the sounds of the busy town, bustling as if it were a Saturday at the Natick mall. Everyone was up and running their errands in the cool night air rather than fighting the heat of the day. I can hear carts rolling by, dogs fighting each other in the street and little kids playing tag in the square. Although I am three stories up from the street, the large wall that separates one part of the Medina from the other carries the sounds up, while blocking any unwanted viewers. It allows the windows to be open, air and light to enter, while providing complete privacy. Below me, the security guard, who stands watch outside one of the hotels, is playing music off of his phone, and the Moroccan beats float up to me through the swirly iron grid across the window. The Iron grid is the only thing keeping me from looking out through the window and down at the narrow alley below. Suddenly, just as my eyes are examining the iron grid, the lights of the bathroom turn off. I am left with the music, bustling sounds and the crisp outline of the iron grid against the brightly lit wall. I stand their not knowing how long the hot water will last... but im not worried. I relax with the heat of the water, and allow my senses to indulge in the sights, smells and sounds of a Moroccan night.
