Death by Photo upload 16.09.10

Good Morning, Morocco! The first week all 59 Americans stayed at Hotel Majestic, also the Hotel we'll be ending our Experience with. Little did we know that the shoddy shower would be sorely missed.

I have never gotten such horrible sleep. Thank Air France for the trendy Raleigh blind.

The Souq vendors sell gorgeous pottery at a beautiful exchange rate favoring the dollar.

One of the first Rabat sunsets I saw. This was taken from the balcony of Hotel Majestic on Hassan II Ave. We'll be finishing our trip up here as well. Kim, Kelsey, and I have already put in room and roommate requests.

Goofball on Mo V.

The Conference room we now have classes in; it wasn't quite finished when we first arrived.

Mohammed V Ave. This street has become so commonplace in my life now.

People gathering at a government run charity that provides daily food. I'm not sure exactly how it works, but I hope to find out during my ISP.

Outside the Medina

The Conference room before it was finished being renovated.

Instead of taking more pride in the outside of their homes, Moroccans spend the most energy on the inside. I would have lost a large portion of the experience I'm having had I never been able to enter one. Apart from the graceful aesthetic of the archways inside, windows tend to divide rooms. Fire hazards galore with the beautiful metal coverings on them.

It's a working lack of matching patterns in Morocco.

Lahcen (endeavoring to) usher us downstairs.

When he's not running the government here he graces us as a professor.

Looking up from the school atrium. Originally a house owned by Spanish immigrants, SIT purchased it and converted it to the Cross Cultural Center for Learning (CCCCCCCCCCCCCCL).

Beslaama,

Raleigh

In Remembrance of Baba Hijaoui.

Yesterday night I came home from my jog to find that my host father, Baba Hijaoui had passed. Though he was very ill and frail the past few weeks, it couldn't be any easier for the Hijaoui family.

My heart and prayers go out to the Hijaoui family and their loved ones.



~Raleigh

Photo Upload!

Photo upload severely failed. Unfortunately, I'm going to have to upload photos when I'm back in the US. They will come though! They're what I'm most excited to blog with.

Let my blabbing begin.


~Raleigh

Toddlers in Tiaras 09.09.10

Before the end of Ramadaan, there's a special night of the 26th. The transliteration of the word (I neglected to write down) means, "The night before the 27th," and that's when all of the children who began fasting receive presents and new clothes. Fasting existed before Islam and extended into Pagan traditions. The gifts during fasting were given by some of the first Muslims to their children as a distraction from the hunger and thirst. The manifestation of this history is that all of the children put enough makeup on to be cake faces, and they sit upon palacial couches on the street. It's a big even to have your child photographed. Not everyone who is dressed up fasted, but many people dress up in these regal outfits that make a bedazzler look like a punchline.

I taught my host family the word, "shnazzy." I'm doing you proud, 'Merica.

My host family tried to take me last night. Alas, we went at midnight and the shops to dress up were just closing. They re-opened at three, but I wanted to sleep.

Salaam,

Cake face

Food 10.09.10

Kuli is one of the first Arabic words we're taught. It means eat. It's said far too often.

I adore Moroccan food. To get an idea of what it is out here, there's a lot of Paprika, lentils, figs, dates, meat, lots and lots of meat, and eggs. My cholesterol is going to be through the roof at the age of twenty. There's also a comical excess of honey on everything. I ate a meat pie the other day with layers of cinnamon, honey, and powdered sugar. I ate a special for Aid that is literally oatmeal with honey and butter. It's communal dining, and utensils don't exist much of the time, so when I ate my "zone" from the oatmeal, a flood of butter took to the bottom of the plate because I had released it. I don't understand why everyone here doesn't have diabetes.

That one went out to my boy Wayne.

I'm fairly certain I ate an entire plate of chicken skins the other night. Yesterday I ate sheep brain. For as many mundane foods as I've eatn in the US, I'm making up for it. Either by ignorance of forced feeding.

Nom nom.


Salaam,

Raleigh

Aid Mubahrak Said! 10.09.10

Aid Mubahrak Said! Happy Aid to everyone (who has no idea what it is because I know who's reading my blog)!

The end of Ramadaan is here! I have a feeling a lot is going to change. Cafes will be open, restaurants will be open, my family will start to leave the house....perhaps. I'll update my blog more... :)

There are two celebrations of Aid. The small one today, and a big one two months from now where each family slaughters a goat. Aid was up in the air, therefore as were my weekend travel plans, because it could have been yesterday, today, or tomorrow. It all depends on the moon. Nobody seems to know what it is exactly about the moon, but it's announced on TV and online when Aid morning is.

We're just having breakfast with the family, now at 10:30am as opposed to breakfast at 7:00pm like during Ramadaan. Family visits each other, they eat together, and the day carries on fairly normally with a relaxed tone.

I'm currently watching the Moroccan version of Regis and Kelly while the fam bam cleans the house. I feel slightly exploitative.

I've been fortunate to have been invited to three other people's houses to break the fast during Ramadaan. Every night the same things are made, and my stomach loves all of them. It's a problem. Expect to have a baby whale return to the US. Last night I broke fast at my friends Kim and Maddy's house. They live close together and the families are tight friends, so they've begun spouting sentences like, "We're going home now," and, "Oh, do we have time to do that?" My friend Inaayat and I recently found out we live around the corner from each other in the Medina. Since then we've been trying to out couple Maddy and Kim.

Kim's little sister Heba (not Haliba, that means milk. That distinction also means that Kim and Maddy called her "Milk" for a week-and-a-half)kept sticking her fingers up her butt and smelling them because she thought it was funny when Maddy told her that it was gross. Heba then smeared her fingers on Maddy's backpack. Heba is 42.
...Only kidding! She's 4 or 5.

Picture uploading is slow, but it'll happen! One idea of where I live though is this: Black Hawk Down was filmed close to two blocks from here.

I'm going to run to go eat, but Happy Aid!

-Raleigh

My Homie

I'm absolutely in love with my homestay. Everyone was looking at the clock yesterday, sitting through presentations when we realized...it was ten minutes until our host families picked us up! Ah! We had heard horror stories, actually, let me correct myself, I had already resigned myself to telling everyone that I wouldn't have hot water, a shower, a western toilet, my own room, or a host family who spoke French, Spanish, or English. So now, I take this breath to tell you that I have hot water, a western toilet, and a host family that speaks French, Spanish, and a little bit of English! Yay! I live with three women, Maria, her sister, and her mother. She is sassy. Someone came in the door, so she just kicked the windows seperating the living room from the atrium so she could see them. Her two newphews are Anwar and Abdula. Anwar is ten, from Spain, and shy and cautious upon first meeting him, but playful and talkative. He's VERY patient with my Spanish. Abdula is a little fireball. He's twelve, looks like a facsimilie of Raphael Nadal, and speaks fluent English. Though he's never had a day of English in his life. He learned English from watching American TV. He loves Hannah Montana and the Suite Life with Zach and Cody. Oh, and he also loves Troy and King Arthur. He probably loves the Exorcist too, I neglected to ask. Abdula's dream is to be an actor in the US. I'll get pictures up for you all later. Abdula wants to bring me to a woman who speaks German, and he also wants to have a sleepover tomorrow in Sale, where he lives. Unfortunately, Anwar goes back to Spain after Ramadaan (Sept12th).
Maria knows very little Spanish, but kept repeating to me (about Anwar) that he was her "novio." Her "guapo, gordito novio." Abdula then began imitating Shakira.
I played cards with the two boys for about two hours (I taught them Egyptian Rat Screw, though O so tactfully renamed it "Rat Trap."), whereupon Abdula continually cheated and the two of them kept shouting "SHIT" at the top of their lungs because they thought it was funny.

I gotta run to class, but I'll post again later!

Besaleem!

Raleigh