Am I really in Morocco right now?

More from the journal I kept while in Morocco

June 27, 2013

First, I’m having a bizarre experience.  I am actually in Morocco!  What? What?!? We’re leaving Rabat tomorrow.  that makes me sad.  I’m learning so much.  The tv is currently on in the background and set to a channel speaking Darija and I’m able to understand words here and there.  More importantly, I’m able to hear Arabic as more than just one long word.  There is such beauty in this language.  I love Darija.  I would love to be fluent.  Not literate, but fluent.  Learning to write Arabic may be too much.  I think it’s a valuable language and I would benefit from learning it.  If Jamaica isn’t possible for me to visit consistently, may be Rabat should be my adopted country.

 

In this post I’ve used “Arabic” and “Darija” interchangeably. They are not. They are two separate languages.

Visit to the doctor’s office

More from the journal I kept during my visit to Morocco. In a doctor’s office in Rabat waiting to get my ear looked at.  I’d had water in it for about 4-5 days at this point.

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There’s something that stings when someone tells you to lose weight.  My grandfather said it before I left.  My family said it at [the only] Christmas [we had together] when I was in high school.  When I look back at pictures I think I looked great and struggle with how I look currently.  The doctor just weighed me and told me to lose weight in Morocco. There’s a theme here.

We live in such a negatively affected society.  People are happy to mention what you should do to make yourself better.  Yet they often neglect to tell you something you do well.

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The doctor came in so I had to go.

Apparently I’m good at learning Darija.  Moroccan Arabic is my shit.  I know I haven’t even been here a week and so it’s presumptuous to be talking about next year, but I’d love to comeback.  I’d love to become fluent in Arabic and learn basic french just so I can be better at Darija.  It’d be cool ot work with 19more in the nice months in Seattle, and Rabat in the rainy winter months.  I wonder what that would cost.  Home stay for 3 months each year?  Sell belongings in Seattle.  Leave boxes in someone’s basement?  I don’t know I could find roommates in Seattle where I could afford the rent — hella cheap.  They would be willing to walk Garvey or rather take care of Garvey for a small fee while I’m out of the country.  I dunno.  It would be nice.

sign

Pooping

I just pooped, wiped, looked at the toilet paper in my hand and didn’t know what to do with it.

I spent the last 30 days pooping and peeing in Turkish Toilets — for the most part. In my hotel rooms there were western toilets with Turkish expectations.  This is a Turkish toilet.

Turkish Toilet

Thanks shwiya b shwiya blog!

I’ve used them before when I traveled in Eastern Asia.  The difference now, however, is that in Morocco (and probably Turkey, but I wouldn’t know because I’ve never been) you don’t put the toilet paper in the hole. You fold it in on itself and put it in a wastepaper basket where it sits until someone takes out the garbage.  In my small village, when the garbage was taken out, it went to a larger container that sat in the bushes near cherry trees and the water source.  Just because it’s out of the house doesn’t mean it’s out of your life.

I enjoy using Turkish Toilets. The squatting position is better for your system and just feels great. I love pooping in the woods because it combines the prime squat position with a beautiful view. That’s the life right there, y’all.  I didn’t love pooping in Turkish toilets because the smell from the wastepaper basket, or merely the knowledge that it’s there, is distracting. I just wanted to poop in a smell free poop free environment.

My pooping in Morocco was disjointed.  When Moroccans found out that I was a vegetarian they’d laugh — because they thought it was a joke– and then they’d ask if that meant I ate lamb…or chicken… or fish. Seriously.  If you say in Darija, “I don’t eat meat.” You also have to explain that you don’t eat fish, chicken, turkey, or lamb. It’s quite a process. Even then, me not eating meat meant I ate a crap ton of potatoes with a few carrots.  At one point I sat back and recollected on my food consumption for the day. “You know what?” I said to my co instructors. “I had a hard-boiled egg and bread for breakfast. Now I’m having a hard-boiled egg and bread for dinner. The hell is going on?”  That was pretty much the extent of my food options. Bezzaf (a lot) of Khobs (bread). Granted, we convinced Mama Fatima to make us lentil soup and frites (french fries) for lunch and it was so good we asked for it every day.  We didn’t always get it, but we asked.  I think she felt bad preparing us the same lunch so she tried to vary it.  If only she knew that I could have eaten that for 3 meals a day and been absolutely fine. The lack of vegetables in my diet led to me feeling clogged up or uncomfortable for most of my days.  We often had to request watermelon (dluh-h) and cherries for the sake of taste and fiber.  There were also honey dew and cantelope melon hybrids that I grew to enjoy. I hate them in the States, but hey, when 98% of the food options aren’t on your menu you’re not going to get too picky with the 2%.

My last few meals in the city were splendid. Well, one was falafel and hummus at a Syrian restaurant — that was splendid and the other was pizza — that was okay. I think my bowels valued familiarity.  The food on the Air France flight was similar to Morocco, which shouldn’t surprise you because France colonized Morocco in the 17th and 18th centuries.  The quality of bread and cheese on the flight was more my style than in the village. I mean come on, who doesn’t love fancy cheese and croissants? 😉 I ate the inside of a Spinach burrito from Gorditos upon my return and I’m pretty sure my stomach brain just had an aneurysm. I haven’t had veggies aside from slivers of zucchini and carrots (and potatoes) in a month. It has no idea what to do with itself.

I’m struggling a bit as my stomach struggles to right itself, but that’s okay. I’m happy to be back in Seattle and pooping in a toilet that I don’t have to share with a gajillion other people… even if it has a toilet seat.

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Aching

I left Rabat less than 24hrs ago and already my heart is aching. Not for people, but for a situation. An environment in which I was constantly forced to learn– quickly–is one I craved for years.  Yes, at times the speed of Arabic, French, and Darija were whelming.  Yet, I feel that if I were to travel alone I would not be as emotionally split I was.  It’s one thing to care for yourself while traveling in a foreign country where you don’t speak the language. It’s another more intense thing to do so while responsible for 13 students and 2 co instructors.  I couldn’t be the traveler I wanted to be because we stuck out so much.  But, that’s what I signed up for…this time.

I’m, as hard as it is :), simultaneously writing a cover letter and updating my resume to apply for a job teaching in Rabat. I don’t know when this would occur, but I would LOVE to move there with my dog and learn to speak Darija and French (the latter by default, not because I want to). I can see myself doing well.  I’d live in Rabat or Salé in a little apartment with Garvey and teach during the week. I would love to learn more about the theatre scene there as well.  I’m not interested in politics, and while dressing conservatively in the small village in which I spent my time was difficult.  That difficulty was mostly along the lines of having brought a limited wardrobe.  I was there to build a bridge, not to socialize.  The clothing I brought reflected that.  Granted, I also hated not being able to sit on the roof in shorts and a tank top. That was very difficult. Let me not glamorize that. , I could definitely see myself in the city though, especially if I was able to wear some of my cute jeans and tops.

This desire to return to Rabat feels solid.  It feels like the timing is right. I could still spend time with my grandfather in the States and relocate to Rabat in the near future. It feels right for now and that feels good.