A Whole New World

Everything since we got off the plane in Marrakech has been kind of surreal. So much has happened in the past 6 days that I can't possibly condense it into a linear narrative, so instead I'll just share some of my initial observations about Morocco.

1. Sensory Overload

Everything here is louder, more colorful, smushed together, hotter, older, and smellier. We are staying in Gueliz which is a nice part of Marrakech, and was built by the French when they occupied Morocco (up until 1956). It's a modern city... kind of. Sometimes there are sidewalks; sometimes there are gigantic dirt holes. The traffic is a swarm of demented bees. You are as likely to get run over by a donkey as to get hit by a car, and even more likely to get hit by a moped with 3 people and a baby on it.

Hashak.

It is dusty, dry, and hot here (for the most part, it did rain one day). Somehow, every smell (good or bad) is stronger. They get together, hatch a plan, form an extremist coalition. Your nostrils are assaulted. Sometimes you smell cumin and jasmine and mint. Other times you smell putrid hot donkey poop and diesel (equally disgusting). When you walk by the markets where they sell fish and meat, you might pass out if you don't hold your breath.

I'm pretty sure they eat muskrats here. Either that or cats. There are so many cats everywhere. Mangy, scrawny scavenger cats. Most of them look like they might have a distant cousin who is a hyena.

We are in Africa, after all.

The sky is too blue here. I suspect government involvement. Morocco relies heavily on the tourist industry. As a result, people are constantly trying to sell you things. Some of the things you want to buy, like these really good counterfeit Rayban Wayfarers (equiv. price: $7).
Other things you definitely don't want to buy, like the "traditional" Moroccan garment with Miley Cyrus' face superimposed on it.
Or do you?

2. The People

So far, all the Moroccans I've met have either been super nice, or rude but harmless. I was resigned to getting hassled a lot by strangers in the street. But the worst thing that has happened have been a few catcalls, which honestly are kind of funny, given that I was expecting much worse. No one has ever approached me, and most of what they say is in Arabic or French so I can't understand it anyways. One very enterprising young lad declared, as our group walked by him in the historic Medina this morning, "Teeteeeez." Way to cross the language barrier, my friend.

But by and large, the people here have been incredibly friendly. Our host family is amazing. The dad is so cute and nice and fatherly. Not at all what you would expect from the stereotypical strict, patriarchal society. He speaks pretty good English, and offers up lots of interesting tidbits and advice about Morocco. The mom is lovely and sweet, but she speaks no English (we use lots of hand gestures; turns out my Arabic sucks pretty bad). Neither she nor the girls wear the hijab (head scarf). Layanne is newly 16- her birthday was 2 days ago! Two of her best friends are also hosting girls from our trip, and last night we surprised Layane at her friend Sara's father's restaurant. The restaurant was gorgeous, and the food was delicious (apparently the chef used to work for the royal family- that's the royal family of Morocco, not Kate&Wills). We had so much fun. It was in this beautiful courtyard that opened right up into the night sky. The only thing between us and the moon was some orange trees.

The family's 8-year-old, Ouidjienne, is absolutely insane and will get her own post soon, because she cannot be described by a brief phrase or two.

3. The Food

I am going to be plump as a dumpling by the time I leave here. They eat lots and lots of carbs. Some mornings, our host mother makes us these thick fried crepe-type things that you spread fig jelly on, roll up, and eat with your hands. Otherwise we have this yummy homemade whole-grain bread. They give us yogurt after every meal (if you want to reject the offer of more food, you say, "Baraka," and hold your hands up in surrender. Sometimes this is an effective dodge tactic; other times it isn't.)

There are 2 important foods here. One is tajin. They are this funny-shaped clay pots that you put meat, veggies, and sauce in, and then cook it on the stove throughout the whole day. Everything comes out savory and smushy and delicious. We have it almost every day. Usually the meat in it is lamb ("lehem"). I might be done with meat for a while after this trip.

The other important food is couscous. This is the drill on Friday afternoons: Everyone goes to mosque and prays, and then everyone goes home and stuffs themselves full of delicious couscous. Like the tajin, there is usually lamb and veggies and sauce involved. Yesterday our host mom made it with chicken, squash, eggplant, potatoes, tomatoes, carrots, and lima beans. Delicious. It did however induce a level-7 carb coma.

I lied: there is one other very important food here. It is the pastries. I first tried them with tea (they drink this mint tea all the time here- it is suuuuper caffeinated and they put about a cup of sugar in each glass). There are all these different cookie-ish pastries, made with almond paste and honey and pistachios and cinnamon. SO ADDICTIVE.

Nom nom nom.

The other day was our host sister Layane's birthday so Jess v. 2 and I wanted to get her some pastries as a present (Jess v. 2 = Jess version 2, the other NU girl staying with my family, different from my roommate Jess back home). We met this really nice woman Aisha at the language center, and she very kindly offered to take us to a traditional Moroccan bakery. She drove us there, insisted on paying for our cookies, and then drove us home. We got a kilo and gave them to Layane. Then after dinner Layane and her family each had 1 or 2 cookies, and Jess v.2 and I took down about half the box.

Happy birthday!