Hotel Majestic September 4. 12:30am (so really it’s September 5)

Today was the best day yet. For the first time since I’ve been in Morocco, I felt not only well, but happy. I laughed for the first time, and it felt good. Refreshing. I felt like myself again.

I haven’t yet described my “normal” day here in Morocco, so I think this an apt time to do so, before the schedule changes on Saturday, when I move in with my host family.

7:00am Wake-up
8:00am Breakfast (and a little nap afterwards)
9:00am Leave hotel and walk to CCCL

Anecdote:
The walk from the hotel to school in the morning and back again at night is a great plunge into the life of the medina. Shops line the streets; Avenue Mohammad V—the last leg of the walk— is especially busy, and especially at night. In the morning, the shopkeepers begin baking or cooking or sewing or hammering, while others take large brooms and sweep the trash away from the front of their shop. Stray cats roam the streets looking for food, and little boys play games of tag in the street. Girls lead their younger siblings through the streets, or watch them as they play. We pass the bakers, the butchers, the wool sellers, the souvenir shops, the djellaba shops, the Western clothing shops. We see people in Western clothes and djellabas, in fez hats and high-heels, in burqas, peasant tops, jeans, and hijabs, soccer jerseys, football jerseys, screen print t-shirts, and everything else imaginable. This is definitely a progressive Muslim society; as many women cover themselves as those who choose not to. It is generally the older women who cover their entire bodies, save their toes, hands, and faces, but many younger women can be seen wearing the hijab as well. Moroccans don’t all look the same, either. There is no cookie-cutter look for a Moroccan. There are Moroccans you might mistake for Italians, Moroccans with sub-Saharan features, Moroccans who look Middle Eastern, Moroccans who are pale, Moroccans who have the skin color of Central Americans and the facial features of Arabs.
Possibly the best — albeit the most challenging as well — part of being in Morocco is trying to communicate in a half dozen languages. Spanish, French, Amazigh (Berber), Darija (Moroccan Colloquial Arabic), Fus’ha (Standard Arabic), and English are all spoken, all the time. I was at a cell phone vendor this evening and when my French failed me, I reverted to Spanish, and as I left, thanked the shopkeeper in Darija. I order coffee in French, but tomorrow I’m going to test my new Darija skills in the café (in Darija, the kawwa). I hope to come home speaking more French, conversational in Darija, literate in Fus’ha, and better at my Spanish. All good possibilities.

9:30-12:30 Orientation talks (i.e. Safety, Policies, Schedule, Homestay, Moroccan Culture, Islam, preparing for Ramadan, health, etc).
12:30-1:30 Lunch (which may include cucumber and tomato salad, saffron potatoes or carrots, lentils, pasta with seasoning, couscous, chicken with saffron, beef with amazing seasonings I can’t name, bread, fresh fruit (fresh fruit in America doesn’t compare), water, mint tea, etc.)
1:30-3:00 Intense Arabic: Survival Darija
(3:00- ??? My head hurts from Darija)
3:30-4:30 Another presentation
4:30-6:30 or 7:00 Free time until dinner

During free time, my new soul twin, Carly, and I post notes to our blogs, post pictures, use Skype, and get all the “staying connected to home” stuff done. Then we take off to “find soda”, which is really just a great excuse to get lost in the medina. The medina is the centuries-old walled city and is mostly residential. People walk in the medina, generally, but every once in a while you’ll hear the buzz of a motorcycle and then the driver will rip past you at speeds that would be illegal in residential America. Beggar women sit in the street mumbling in darija; their eyes are sunken into their faces and they are lucky if they have teeth. Today I gave one of the woman my change from buying soda, and she held my hand as we exchanged the “Salaam aleikum” “wa aleikum salaam”. Then she mumbled more words, including Al-Ahzar (I believe it was), which I think is a name of God, though I do not know which.

6:30 Dinner. (See food list above)
7:30 Walk back to hotel
Life begins at night in Rabat. By now Avenue Mohammad V is full of people, and the center of the street is full of vendors selling fruit, orange juice (squeezed for you on the spot), purses, backpacks, CD’s, t-shirts, and necklaces. Our group gets split up by the crowds, which is fun, because now we know how to get from the hotel to school, so being free of our 45-person brigade is a relief. It’s nice to walk in small groups of two or three, where you can walk at your own pace, look at the shops and watch the people.
Tonight as we were standing in a parking lot across from our hotel, a young girl, probably 14 or 15, came up to us, trying to sell us flags. She spoke in quiet darija, and kept motioning to her mouth, to indicate she was hungry, that selling these flags would allow her to feed herself for the night. The students responded alternatively with “La” (darija for no) or “Non”, but she was persistent. For some reason, I made eye contact with her, and she posed her questions to me, demonstrating the number of flags she had. “Je ne comprends pas”, I said. “No, merci”. She motioned to her mouth again, then looked at my hand. She gestured to her own finger, making a sign of a ring, then she pointed at my hand. She wanted my silver spiral ring, which is the only nice piece of jewelry that I own, and I would never part with it. I quickly gave her my mood ring, which I also like very much, but it was free. There’s no huge sentimental value attached to it. She seemed very pleased by the gift. She smiled and said “merci” and walked away. That was that.

Link to my photo album!

Here is the web address for my photo album.... I don't think it's a working link, so copy and paste into your browser.

http://picasaweb.google.com/aaasay09

OH, sweet! It might be a link!

I'm on a long break right now, looking out at the Atlantic, getting ready to scour the medina for a Coca-Cola light with my friend Carly.

It's been a roller-coaster ride for me since I've gotten here, with this very moment probably being my happiest. I laughed for the first time today since I've been here, and it felt good.

(My darija is awful and Arabic classes are ridiculous, but I'm getting a little better).

B'Salaama!

From the terrace of the school, after lunch

I'm feeling so much better today. I got about 10 hours of sleep last night (although the sleeping pills didn't work so well; I kept waking up all the time, feeling nauseous), and I am drugged up with Advil Cold and Sinus and Zicam. My cold is starting to subside, and my head starting to feel less clouded. We're starting to actually learn things, which makes days better and is helping to keep me awake. When we're just having Orientation talks like "Schedule", "Policy", etc, I start to nod off. Learning Arabic and reviewing Islam makes it more exciting.

It is a beautiful day today; it's about 75 degrees Fahrenheit, with a nice breeze coming off the ocean. The weather is making me feel much better, too. It's difficult to be sick, stuffed up, and living in 90 degree heat.

Altogether, a much better day. Last night I fought off little feelings of homesickness; it's always difficult to be sick anywhere, but especially abroad. I wanted to talk to my mom, to Clay, to Marcie and Charlene---just to anyone from home---but I was also needing sleep, and didn't feel like conquering the language barrier that I would find in the Internet cafe. So, I listened to Enya, ran cold water over my wrists to cool myself, and tried to sleep.

Now I sit on the beautiful terrace next to my new friend Carly, who is kind of keeping me going at this point. We "talked" a lot on Facebook before coming to Morocco, so when I hugged her in the Rabat airport, it felt like I was seeing an old friend. We're pretty much inseparable during the day.

I'm worried about moving in with my homestay family at the end of the week. What if I share a room, or a bed? What if I can't communicate with them at all? (PLEASE let someone speak Spanish or English)! I know I'll be fine and that I'll learn to navigate the cultural divides and language barriers, but it still makes me worried. Not too worried.... just a little.

I'm going to go upload some pictures now, so that you all might get a view of Morocco!

More updates later.

Hotel Majestic, Rabat. 8:45pm September 3.

I’m sitting on my bed in room 108, feeling not so well. We returned home from dinner at 8:00pm, and I took two Advil Cold and Sinus and two Excedrin PM, took a quick cold shower because the room is 90 degrees, and then set about washing my laundry. All of it could stand to be worn another day, but I find that body odor and the smell of stale sweat are difficult to get out if you leave the laundry for too long. My roommate left and is doing something fun, and I am slowly but surely allowing my drugs to take hold so I might sleep well tonight. Last night was not so fun.

Today was a good day, albeit strenuous given the jet lag, the cold, and the constant bombardment of my eyes, ears, and lips with Morocco. I like the country so far — walking through the bazaar after dinner and seeing all the people and all the vendors was particularly exhilirating — but I hate being ill. It puts a damper on everything.

Highlights of the trip so far:
(1) meeting friends in New York (while the plane was delayed for five hours)
(2) My new “soul-twin” Carly
(3) Learning a very small amount of conversational Darija (Moroccan arabic)
(4) the food at the CCCL. Couscous, lamb, potatoes and chicken with saffron, eggplant, tomatoes and the best cucumbers and grapes in the world....
(5) Speaking four languages in one day. (While I can’t claim proficiency in Spanish, French, or Darija, I can truthfully say that I spoke all three and English in one day).
(6) Reading past students’ ISP’s (independent study project) and dreaming about mine
(7) Advil Cold and Sinus
(8) Excedrin PM
(9) Cold showers
(10) Tissues my friend Carly gave me (I forgot to bring any.... Who’d have thought I’d get sick the first day)
(11) My mp3 player, which makes me feel not so alone
(12) Skype, and that Clay got Skype
(13) talking to Charlene and Clay for little bits of time
(14) talking to my mom last night (sorry I had to cut the conversation short, mom )
(15) The CCCL (my school)
(16) Badr, one of the program assistants who makes sure we’re ok all the time
(17) Arabic lesson and Arabic teachers
(18) Just finally being here, but still being connected to little bits of home.
(19) clean clothes, and dreaming about buying a beautiful djellaba
(20) Sleep.

And (20) is where I’m headed now. The drugs are kicking in, and I’m starting to feel a little bit sleepy and euphoric, all at the same time.

Tomorrow (Tuesday) we have five ( ) hours of darija as well as a crash course in Islam. (Carly and I both asked, incredulously, “How are they going to fit a whole religion into an hour?” I guess we’ll find out).

Mselkhir u salaam aleikum (Good evening and peace be upon you )

New York. JFK Airport. September 1 4:44 pm.

(A belated entry... from JFK airport before I leave the country)

JFK airport is teeming with people. I’ve decided I don’t much like this airport, because they give very poor instructions on how to get from place to place. When I disembarked from my Cincinnati-JFK flight, there were no instructions at the baggage claim area on how to get anywhere else in the airport except to further Delta connections. I had to ask several perturbed Delta employees how to get to AirFrance.... and finally found the AirTrain that took me to Terminal 1.

I’m writing this from the lower floor of the international terminal, eating a disgusting and greasy piece of pizza. It was the cheapest option at the “Panini Express” kiosk, which sold sandwiches that didn’t look much better for about $9.00. My hunger is gone now, but my back hurts a little from carrying my ridiculously heavy backpack. And I wish I had the internet. There are lots of wireless connections here, but none available to me.... not even one I could pay $19.99 an hour to use Unfair. So here I sulk.

The one cool thing about this airport is that about 12 different languages are being spoken around me right now. And at least I have my computer, so I can write this entry and post it to my blog and Facebook later.

Less than an hour until I meet my group, and stand uncomfortably in a crowd of hundreds while I wait to go through security screening. Really—the lines are incredible. It looks like a rock concert might be going on in this terminal, only people aren’t jumping, and the only sound is the murmur of one thousand voices.

I really wish my backpack weren’t so heavy. *sigh*.

And my adventure begins, with a greasy slice of pizza in my belly. :)

A better update from Rabat

The end of my first day in Rabat is nearing an end, and it has been a busy day. I only got about 6 hours of sleep last night, and was very restless and hot, and sick. I have a nice little cold that is keeping me company. Thank goodness for Advil Cold and Sinus.

All the SIT students attend classes at the CCCL, the Center for Cross-Cultural Learning, which is located in the medina (the centuries-old walled city) in Rabat. The CCCL is a 19th century Andalusian house, every inch covered with mosaics. I hope to bring my camera to the center sometime soon so I can take pictures and post them for you to feast your eyes.

We had a 1.5 hour intense Arabic course today, and learned to say hello, introduce ourselves, say where we're from, and that we're students. Four hours later, I can't remember any of it. (Ok, maybe a little bit). I'll do lots of studying tonight.

After our Arabic lesson and a "Safety and Security" talk, my new friend and soul-twin Carly and I decided to leave the center and search for sodas in the medina. We managed to make it to a small shop, buy a Fanta and water, and get lost in the medina on the way back to the center. To say the medina is labyrinthine is an understatement. Most everything looks the same, and there are twists and turns and corridors and tunnels everywhere. We finally made it out.... a fun trip.

Now I'm sitting on the roof terrace of the CCCL, looking to the west to the Atlantic, to the north to the river, to the east and south to the city. The smells of dinner are wafting up from the stairwell, and my stomach is growling for couscous and lamb.

So far, I can't complain.

Salaam!

"Salaam aleikum". Peace be upon you.

Hanging at the CCCL

Getting ready to go to my first "Intense Arabic" crash course.

Food is wonderful, views are grand. Sights and sounds and smells, oh my!

I can't wait to move in with my host family. Everything is a little too comfortable right now and I yearn for the excitement of not showering for a week, of public baths, Turkish toilets, and language barriers.

hopefully they'll come soon!