Thursday (Nov 25th), my class went on a ‘field trip’ to the Souk Al Khamise (I think that’s the right name). It was in a more rural area on what seemed to be the outskirts of Rabat. It definitely was far from being a tourist market and seemed more like a great big garage sale, junk yard, and farmer’s market all in one. It didn’t smell great but it was cool to wander around and look at all the strange things that people were trying to sell. There was a group of terrible actors entertaining a crowd and a medicine man excitedly gesturing and trying to convince an interested crowd that his potions and powders worked miracles. We watched the medicine man for a while because he really was quite entertaining. He would flip wildly through his book of pictures that looked as if they’d been cut out of magazines and show the crowd a picture that was supposed to explain or enforce whatever he was saying. We all left pretty fast when he brought out a strange shaped stick and flipped to a particularly graphic picture of reproductive anatomy. The Yocine and Hassan looked rather embarrassed and claimed to have no idea he what he was talking about… hahah. We went through the food market part and crossed the street to get some air and eat oranges while we waited for the bus. I met a girl there who I haven’t seen at the school before and found out that she is an au pair for a family in Morocco. She said that they paid for her flight, her housing, her weekend trips, and much more. She told me that I should look into it because it’s a cheap way to travel and you get paid on top of it… if you find the right family to work for.
As soon as we got back, we piled back into the van to go to the American club where they were serving a traditional Thanksgiving dinner. We all came as guests of Malaika, who is an American woman married Adil, the owner of the school. I sat near another American woman who is married to a Moroccan man and it was interesting to hear their stories about their Moroccan in-laws, the shame of owning a microwave, and how much they missed American milk. I got to speak with Malaika’s friend about what it was like being married to a Moroccan man. She told me that she converted to Islam for him and had to give up some freedoms that she was used to having, but she insisted that their love for each-other was more important than anything that she had to give up. She said that when they first started dating he told her that she had to be home by ten o’clock and she was furious at first but then he convinced her that people who stay out later than that are really only looking for one thing. At this point, a girl sitting across the table from me exchanged glances with me and we had a nice little argument about this generalization. We knew why he would say that but really didn’t agree because we stay out much later than that because that’s when we have time to see friends. In the end we had to agree to disagree and the lady’s main point was that if you love someone you are willing to compromise. I wish I had thought to ask her what her husband compromised on to be with her. I would be curious to hear her answer.
The dinner was top notch, a little over priced but it was authentic Thanksgiving dinner and the pecan pie was almost as good as my Nannie’s ;-) After dinner, most of the group left but a few of us stayed behind to have a drink at the bar and watch the Macy’s day parade on the Air Force channel. Malaika stayed with us and told us about how she had recently taken her kids back home and the airport stopped her from taking them without the signature of their father. Apparently this happened after the new family law was passed which makes it unnecessary for the mother to get the father’s permission to take the kids out of the country. She said she knew she could have fought it, but Adil was still in the airport so she just chased him down. I’ve heard other instances where the law may have changed but it is not enforced. It’s quite disappointing that their system takes so long to switch. When Malaika took us back to school, I just did a little bit of studying but I really wasn’t in the mood and went back to the house. I was missing my family a little bit, but right before I went to sleep, I remembered to open a letter that my mom had put in my suitcase. It was full of love and pictures and it really made me smile (thank you mommy!!!).
Friday (26th) is so far away ago that I’m having a hard time remembering what went on. I do know that we talked about superstitions and how most Moroccans believe in spirits or “Gins” as they are called. My favorite example is the one where he said that if you stay in the shower too long or take too many showers the Gins might get you… yikes! I had no idea there were Gins in the shower! I did a little bit of shopping that night but stayed in to get some work done on my portfolio.
Sunday (28th), I went shopping with Mama Kaltoum and she tried to help me find boots to keep me warm and dry from the rain. She instructed me not to talk in French or English or else the price would go up immediately. So if I saw something I liked, I would tell her good or bad in Arabic and she would talk to the shop owner. Most of the places she took me to stores that had used shoes and I wasn’t quite brave enough to try them. Plus they weren’t charging much less for them than the new ones in the Medina. We didn’t find any, but we did find a bunch of large oranges to make orange juice with and lots of good fresh veggies for the cous cous so all was good with the world. As long as we have our cous cous, we will survive
:-D …After eating, I went to the train station to go to Sale for the Breakdance battle that Mourad was at. The train didn’t leave until too late so I took a petit taxi to find a grand taxi that would take me to Sale. The petit taxis aren’t supposed to cross the river into Sale but they will for the right price. I couldn’t bargain a good price with him so I just had him leave me with a Grand taxi who was heading in that direction. It was all quite complicated but somehow I made it and Mourad met me at the Sale train station and took me to where the battle was going on.
I could hear the music from outside and saw kids in fitted hats and crazy tennis-shoes walking around. It was definitely an interesting sight. When we walked in, I was hit by the smell of sweat… he introduced me to a girl who is part of his association and he claims is the best at “popping,” she was one of very few girls there. I watched a guy freestyle to old school music that blasted out of an old school boom box. He wore tight jeans, a button down shirt with a sweater on top and converse all-stars. After a little while, the competition was about to start so Mourad had me sit with him and four other guys on a big black couch where they would judge the competition from. I had a blast taking videos of the crazy things that the guys could do. It was really interesting to watch the way the competitors interacted with each other. They would hug each other before and after but still act completely macho while dancing. It was quite amusing when sometimes one of them would get a little upset at the end and a guy, who must have been dubbed the announcer for his naturally deep voice, would basically tell them to have respect and the guys would hug it out. It was great! It really made me miss dancing.
My favorite part was when they made the judges do a demonstration while the dancers rested. Mourad was the last one to be called up… the “announcer” adjusted his top hat (yes he WAS wearing a top hat… possibly a T-Pain imitation) and announced Mourad as “Diablo.” This made Mourad somewhat embarrassed I could tell. He did a couple high power flips and tricks but took it easy because his wrist and ankle are a bit messed up from his latest battle in the Sahara. I also got to see his friend do her popping demonstration and she was really quite good! I asked Mourad why they called him Diablo since his “dancing name” is really Manex. He said that it’s a reference from an American movie and they only called him that because I was there, apparently someone asked him how “Manuella” is doing and they were referring to me because I looked Hispanic or something. I really don’t understand it still so I must need to see the movie to get it.
Right before the final round we ended up leaving because someone stole another person’s bag and the atmosphere became a little tense. Plus, it was getting late and I needed to do some shopping in the Medina before I went home. Mourad and I crammed into a cab where I was practically sitting on these two ladies’ laps but it was a short ride across the river and we walked the rest of the way to the Souk. The snail stands were especially pungent that night and people crowded around the boiling pots of escargot… I can’t help but wonder what is so appetizing about these creatures that I constantly find on the ground beneath my feet…… blech! We found a nice street stand and ate there, I’m not sure what it was, but we ate it. It was a lovely mix of chopped up meat, spices and maybe peppers too that were grilled then put into bread and covered in some kind of red tomato sauce. While we were eating, we ran into some people from the competition who came up and said hi to us. One guy pounded knuckles with Mourad and turned to me to do the same thing but said that girls do it from the side… this was new to me and I completely messed it up of course but at least I know to pound it from the side in the future. What a relief! Hahah
We didn’t have much luck shopping and it rained on us quite a lot but I didn’t mind because it was at least warmer than the last few days. We took shelter in a perfume shop and Mourad started talking to a Japanese man who worked behind the counter. The man had really long hair and an American accent so I became rather interested in the conversation as well. It turns out that he has family in Japan but was raised in California and has lived all over the place. He has converted to Islam and is trying to make his life in Morocco more permanent because he loves the pace of Moroccan life and the attitude of Moroccan people. Mourad kept plying him with questions about Japan but the guy really didn’t seem to be fond of talking about his country of origin. He would only say how crazy life is in Japan and people bottle up their emotions there so they go crazy almost. It was quite interesting.
After being thoroughly soaked in the medina, we headed back for me to catch a cab and commenced yet another of our religious debates. For some reason I began crying because I was so frustrated by not just our conversation but also because I was tired and stressed out. I always get stupid and emotional when I’m tired and stressed… it sucks. Mourad was devastated that he made me cry and said that I needed to go home lol We shared the cab part way home and he got out before my neighborhood and said goodnight. I didn’t know at that time, but he ended up walking the rest of the way home (about an hour and a half walk) in the rain. I think it was because he didn’t have enough change for the cab. Now I felt awful… it wasn’t the greatest end to the night.
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