Pretty Pretty Princess meets Casa Graffiti art...

I have recently experienced a wide range of experiences in Morocco. I was transported from time and place to, well, I'm not really sure where. Let me attempt to explain...

Thursday I attended the henna party at my host house. The evening progressed normally with Moroccan tea and raif (these pancake things eaten with honey) as we waited for the henna. The evening took a surreal and unexpected turn when the dresses came out. Evidently, this wasn't a henna party for another couple of hours but first we had to dress the part. We, meaning 6 girls and Will, were to play Moroccan princess dress-up. We were each given an elaborate sparkly caftan to wear. We took pictures saying how Moroccan we looked, but the dress up party wasn't finished yet. Out came the jewels, meaning a crown for each girl and sparkly jeweled necklaces and earrings.

We take more pictures until we realize that, no, we also need makeup. Makeup, in this sense, means very colorful eyeshadow and even redder lipstick, compliments of my host sister. The evening came to a breaking point of laughter when our one male of the group was told to wear his outfit. Out comes Aladdin, complete with cape. Consistent with the Islamic allowance of polygamous marriages, Will became the groom with 6 lovely brides. The whole evening, about 5 or 6 hours total, was a myriad of ups, downs, and confused looks until orders were given to wear something, not wear something, makeup, henna, food, etc. All good fun and good memories. The henna came out in the end, fear not, and the students had a wonderful time being decorated in the traditional Moroccan style. Moroccan weddings are very elaborate and we were privileged to get to have a taste of the preparation that a young Moroccan bride would undergo on this very special day.


Saturday turned out to be a surprising experience as well. After meeting a host brother I hadn't met before, I decided I needed to get out of the house and explore a bit. I called around and found out that a couple friends were on a train to Casablanca and headed to an art showing. "Come Jess!" They said. "Ok," I said, I and hopped on the hour-long train to Casablanca. Once there, we ate in a very themed Chinese restaurant. I felt transported to another day and age, one of 3-D Asian art, red walls, and a Buddhist temple structure, all this complete with Genesis artwork as well. We left our little hide-away to find the art exhibit. At this point I found out that there is also a music festival in Casa which we will be attending. The two events were being shown together as a combination of street art and music. I experienced the graffiti scene of Morocco, as well as music combining gnaoua music, spanish music, flamingo dancers, dread locks, hip hop, electro, and who knows what else mashed together. I danced my little heart out in the midst of the strangest company I have thus encountered in Morocco. Where they have been hiding, I don't know. The music brought us all out of the woodwork.

Conclusion. I am coming home in two weeks, enjoying the randomness that is Morocco, and planning on trekking up Mount Toubkal this week. Pray for my health, safety, and to ward off any altitude sickness (since I am climbing the highest mountain in north Africa). Continue to pray that I shine as a light here.

Love to you all. Miss you!

Lebanon, Africa, Jersey Shore, and more!

I travelled to Tangiers this weekend by bus. My journey followed a feverish Thursday night and an achy Friday. However, I arrived safe and sound to enjoy some lovely Lebanese food Friday night. We chatted with the Saudi man who served our food, surprised to be at a place that preferred English over French. However, not one to be easily served our food, we attempted conversing in Arabic with the waiter in the end. I have decided I thoroughly enjoy Lebanese food, savored the falafel and hummus, and will be frequenting several different Lebanese restaurants when I return to the States.

Later that night we wandered the city, ending up in the Kasbah (the walled fortress of the old city)We wandered the streets and were struck by the emptiness of where we found ourselves. I felt as if I were in a different world, traveling the still streets of an ancient mystery. We crouched down to enter a little hole in a wall and found ourselves overlooking the ocean and port. It was a startlingly peaceful and beautiful night.

Saturday consisted of visiting the lighthouse that separates the Atlantic Ocean from the Mediterranean Sea. We took a taxi ride to the lighthouse which was filled with dance club music and a delightful taxi driver. He wore a muscle shirt and pumped his fist as we cruised the coast. One of the girls I was traveling with commented that she wasn't sure if she was in Morocco or back to her home on the Jersey Shore. At the lighthouse, a sign told us that entrance was forbidden. The gate was open and unmanned, so I walked in with one of my friends. A guy yelled at us that we were crazy for just walking in, but then brought us up anyway. Evidently he lived in the lighthouse and so brought us to the top where we enjoyed the wonderful view. I stood seeing the oceans before me, imagining the invisible line that divides them on the maps.

After the lighthouse, we continued our dance party/ taxi ride to the cave of Herules. Inside the cave was an opening that looked like the shape of Africa. The water shown through in the brightest blue like a painting. I felt closer to Africa as I was farthest north then I have been the whole trip. Pretty zween.

That afternoon, after more Lebanese food on the beach, we went to Caid's Piano Bar, evidently the original inspiration for Rick's Cafe from the movie Casablanca. Evidently Tangier is much closer to the glamor and intrigue of Casablanca then the city of Casablanca actually is. Casa is an industrial city, without much character. Tangier has a flavor, history, and culture of its own. While at Caid's, we met an American woman who had an arranged marriage with a Moroccan man after she converted to Islam. She married into an extremely conservative family and is attempting to live with her husband in Morocco now. It sounded as if she was having a tough time adjusting to this "adventure" as she called it, referring to her new marriage and direction her life has turned. I can't imagine embarking on an unknown adventure for a marriage, not knowing the guy, his family, the country, or the religion.
We left her, promising to write, and continued on our way, weaving through Tangier, ending up at St. Andrews church. This is an Anglican church built to be a church yet by Muslim builders. They carved inscriptions of the Coran inside the church, creating a mosque like feel inside this white church. It even had a minaret, in replace of a steeple. The outside is a church cemetery, containing World War II deaths, whole regiments buried together. They had such loving inscriptions, one of them said "meeting again when dawn breaks". On another note, one fallen soldier had the inscription, "Good Hunting, Tim."

I love you and miss you all!! I have about 2 1/2 weeks here still. Pray for my health and my life for the Lord here!

Happy May 3rd!!

This isn't my picture but I will put mine up soon. :)

I have now embarked upon May, my last month in Morocco. The time has crept up on me so quickly that I am not sure how to feel. I miss home a lot and so go through random bouts of daydreams of my life in Minnesota and Iowa. But at the same time I realize that I will miss so much when I leave. Morocco has become my home for these last couple of months. I am set on making the most of the time I have left and wish to return, traveling a lot, and trying to store up memories.

Those serious thoughts aside, I travelled to Chefchouen this weekend with a few kids from the program. This little mountain village is about 6 hours by bus away. It is a blue city. And by a blue city, I mean the buildings are literally all blue. It is a beautiful combination of Portuguese inspired buildings, blue and white paint, and yet an old blue Medina as well. This is the hippy town of Morocco, where I might have acquired several hippy inspired pieces to add to my wardrobe. I now have a pair of green harem pants, which are wonderfully light and baggy. I also have a large poncho which buttons up. Perfect for any rastafarian type looks I wanted to emulate. Or simply to stay warm when I climb a mountain in a couple of weeks.... but more of that later. :)



I took a wonderful mountain hike to a natural bridge of two mountains that is known as "God's Bridge" It is the coming together of two beautiful mountains. What a lovely place we found. The view was breathtaking as you walked a couple hours to the top and stopped to finally breathe in the freshest of air. We passed streams to look down into the valley and out to more mountains. Some day I will definitely come back to this place and hike more in the mountains. If anyone wishes to join me, let me know!

Scattered Musings...

So this weekend can only be described as a myriad of events.

Friday I went to a moroccan restaurant where there were scroll menus. Not sure how authentic but definitely very cool. Reconnected with my very old red-haired neighbor. She says I am her daughter and we are hopefully having tea this week.
I was sick Friday night, again. Morocco 4, This semester's total is 5. It was quick and I'm back on my feet again. Haha, always a good time.



Saturday, despite my recovering from Friday night, I was brought along all over Rabat for various shopping excursions for my host sister's big birthday party Saturday night. We bought a huge cake, random 10 deerham shoes (When I say we i mean my host sister, brother, host mother, host aunt and uncle and who knows else I went shopping with that day. I did no shopping but carried the bags throughout the medina.)

I was then somehow brought to the coiffeur where my hair and makeup was done for me. The lady was one of the cutest old women I have ever seen. She told me I was her daughter and gave me a moroccan name, Aya or Maka. One of them means angel and I don't know the other definition. I was honored and hope to go back and visit her soon too. She patted me on the cheek and kissed me telling me how beautiful I was. Definitely different then the salons in the US that I have been to. However, my friends compared me to more of a geisha look, more than moroccan with my makeup and hair, but o well.

I returned to my house, an hour and a half late, to find a lot of my friends from school had already arrived. I was whisked away and given a very sparkly kaftan to wear. Throughout the night I realize that I was the ONLY one wearing a sparkly kaftan, and one of the only ones with a kaftan at all. The moroccans out "westerned" me that night. haha. It was a good time overall. My host mom strongly compelled the students and me to dance the night away. If we topped we were compelled to dance again. No time for rest at this party.

Another funny thing. I would set my camera down and randomly get it back from someone, ten minutes later, multiple times that night. Evidently, the little boys were taking it and posing for pictures showing, off their toughness. I looked through my photos that night and found some very funny surprises. They evidently had a good time too.



Sunday, I went to church and was moved to tears with the telling of the old testament by the little children from sunday school. It was wonderful to be able to hear the children's voices in the midst of morocco giving praise to the Lord.

The afternoon a couple of students and I tried to go sailing. However, evidently there is a very small window of opportunity, from 12 to 2. We went swimming instead, which was almost just as good. Hopefully planning on a midweek sail.

Went with 6 other girls to the hamon. I have been to so many of these now that I felt like a tour guide of sorts. Here is the changing room, the hot room, here is the lady who scrubs you, find a place to sit and begin! We all had a great time and felt peachy clean afterward, with a whole new set of skin!

Today I got stuck behind the chicken truck. It moves slowly and is difficult to pass, creating a smelly journey through the medina.
It's happened a couple times. Today is hot and strongly yearn for swimming. However, there is no time since I have class until 6:30 tonight. Too bad.

Spring Break Part Jooj (two)

Espanya

I went to the south of Spain after my mom left with my school. We took a ferry in the morning of Thursday. I’m not sure who to give the points for my 4th vomit of my time abroad. I think I will give the points to Spain since we had left Tangier at that point. The international score card now stands Morocco 3, Spain 2, Jess Wagner 0. (to be fair I’m not sure how to gain points in this competition) Or we could look at it in a transportation kind of way, Camel Ride 1, Plane 1, Ferry 1. This might all be too much information…

Anywhooo… We continued past the rock of Gibralter to spend the night in Cardoba and visit the Cathedral that once was a mosque. The south of Spain, Andalusia, is riddled with history of the crusades and the fights to claim land. Jewish, Christian, and Muslim influence can be seen strongly all throughout the province. This Cathedral has the appearance of a mosque from the outside but has two cathedrals inside it. It is a strange thing to walk through the low wood ceilings and pillars of the mosque to a vaulted and carved ceiling of an elaborate cathedral. All in the same structure. I highly recommend this for anyone studying cathedrals, mosques, or art. I believe it the only of its kind.

We also traveled to Granada where we went to the Alhambra. It also served many purposes over the years, housing kings and sultans and guards and more. The gardens were created to give a piece of paradise on earth, with fountains, pools, shrubbery, flowers, and other peaceful and wonderful features. Islam cannot display images of Allah or of things to be worshiped but evidently can create an idea of paradise.

We saw the cathedral where Elizabeth and Ferdinand are buried. Enjoyed some gelato, paella, tapas, and café du leche and had some free time for exploring and enjoying the time in Spain. I even was able to talk to one of the taxi drivers in French when the unused Spanish of the people I was with failed. There is something so great about being able to communicate with people. I don’t know what I will do when I come back to the states and almost everyone I come into contact with speaks English. I haven’t overheard English, whether it be in a café, or at a store, or in the streets for so long. Once in Marrakesh, once on the ferry today (which was sick-free thank you for asking) and a couple other notable times.

Spring Break Part Wahed (one)

Wow! I think it has been a while since posting anything for my faithful family and friends. (I will put pictures up later...)

These last weeks have been full, bringing me on travels by almost every form of transportation. I traveled by taxi, bus, train, ferry, and my faithful feetsies. I went all over Rabat with my mom and then to Marrakech with her. She left and I headed to the south of Spain for the weekend.

I will break up these next two posts to make it less overwhelming.

First adventure of the week came last Thursday, the 8th I think, when my mom came to spend a week with me in morocco. She arrived safely in order to find a very small airport in Rabat and multiple different cultural shocks. This may be a good opportunity to list a few… (although I am sure she will be glad to tell you if you ask her yourself) This list may also simply be a way for me to organize a lot of activities without writing a full-out novel.

1. She disliked the traffic situation. When I say dislike, I mean refused to cross when I wanted to cross, (there is no “right of way” for pedestrians here – it’s to each his own) She got used to it quickly and we devised a system of holding each others arms and getting around morocco that way. There were a couple frantic street crossings where she pulled me who knows where in an attempt to save me from upcoming cars, but we laugh about it now. It takes time to adjust to the chaos.

2. She noticed the call to prayer more than I do anymore. She compared it to an eery siren sound. I can see her point, but tune it out now.

3. She disliked the cat calls. It is a shock to experience the blatant disrespect that surrounds us everywhere here. I think this is probably the thing she liked least about Morocco. It’s hard to not hear what they say, but I have learned to not react and pretend they don’t exist. However, we have had enough good experiences with people that I think it overweighed the rude comments. A security guard at Chellah remembered me from one of my wandering adventures and showed us around the mosque ruins.
4. We bargained for things. I think mom found it sort of exhilarating. The man would state a price for, say a pair of yellow leather slippers for my brother, and she would either laugh, since she knows its way overpriced, or else ask me what it should cost, where I would respond that it is overpriced. I think laughing might not be the best way to win them over, but we eventually brought down the prices and made some friends along the way. It helped speaking to them in Arabic and explaining how I am a student here and not just another tourist willing to pay the outrageous prices. Mom got in the habit of saying la, shukran, meaning no thank you.

5. We had Moroccan mint tea and couscous and tajine. All great things that mom also loved. At couscous at my host house, the family couldn’t stop saying how beautiful my mom was. They said she was zweena, meaning pretty. They also made sure that dad tells her that, which I assured them that my dad thinks that mom is very pretty and tells her so, don’t worry. : ) She ate her food wonderfully from the communal plate and later enjoyed tea and coffee with the family, along with Moroccan crepes. All fried and doused in oil, yet delicious. She ate to the chorus of “kulee” which means, eat!

6. We had wonderful weather. I still appreciate the beautiful sunshine and warmth here. The day my mom was leaving we experienced a bit of rain, unfortunately, leaving us drenched. My feet may or may not be completely black on the bottom as a result of the leather dye coming off on my feet. Haha. It is quite the site and a bit surprising for the unexpected person who chances to see my feet. They are completely coated black on the bottom.

7. We visited a spa in Marrakech where my mom and I had a traditional hamon scrub-down, complete with henna soap and Moroccan black soap. Talk to her about it I suppose. It was not the same experience I have had in the local hamons, since this was a hotel spa, but it was the same general idea. A bit up close and personal but oh so clean afterward. We finished with a message with apricot oil, splendid, ending with some quality time in the sauna. It was a wonderful and relaxing retreat for me.

8. Mom experienced a bit of the problems with Moroccan communication. After receiving faulty information, she ended up at the airport expecting to spend the night there to awake to an early plane. However, upon arriving, she was told that the airport closes and it would be quite unsafe for her to stay there. Proceed to my mom’s solo Moroccan adventure where she stayed at a worker’s house with his family. She called me as I was on my way in a bus to Tanger, completely unable to do anything. Thankfully our Lord is faithful and places kind people in our pathways, providing safety and comfort for my mom. They brought her to the airport in the morning and called me to let me know she was safe and assured me multiple times that “everything is ok”. I was also called later the weekend to make sure that mom got home safely since she didn’t call them when she got back to the states. I will call and assure them that she got home.

9. To recap, we walked all over Rabat for a couple days, visiting the ocean, ancient ruins of chellah, the old medina, the Kasbah, the protestant church, and the boardwalk. Then we headed out to Marrakesh for a mini-vacation within a vacation. It was a trip that was too short but we decided that Dad needs to come here too. And of course I would love to see my wonderful Danny and Gracie as well! Spending time with mom made me miss the whole family and home quite a bit! I have a month and a half left. Soon I will be home.

Easter in an Ancient World...

Greetings to all, Happy Easter!

I celebrated the resurrection by attending the service at sunrise at the ancient ruins of Chellah. It was beautiful. I was blessed to be among so many believers and singing praises in the darkness of night to the dawn of the day. Wonderful. Afterward I made a trek across the hills to attend brunch at the pastor's house with others of the congregation. On the walk back, I walked through the same hills and reached a point where I could see for miles around me. It is difficult to communicate the peace of that moment. I am reveling the in the beauty of God's creation, his gift of salvation, enjoying the quiet of solitude and seeing into the Chellah, a flurry of white birds in an ancient garden. Bliss.

I didn't have my camera. I am sort of pleased, no offense, but now my picture is mine forever. Not ruined by attempting to unsuccessfully capture it onto film (it never looks as good as real life).

I have break this week after my midterms, hanging with mommy dearest and seeing where we end up. Afterward off to Spain again for me, visiting Cardoba, Granada, and who knows where else.

Hiking in the Mid-Atlas Mountains

I sit here at the center feeling the after-effects of my weekend. My feet have several impressive blisters still paining me. My body is tired and wanting to sleep. My face is red. But I wouldn't trade it for much.

This weekend, after having couscous at my French professor's house (we ate couscous with a baby goat instead of the usual chicken) we hopped a train to Meknes. From there we embarked upon our journey in a petit taxi to a grand taxi to Azrou. For those curious souls out there, petit taxis are only allowed within the city's limits. They are different colors to signify the cities they belong to. For a grand taxi, however, the opportunities are endless. However, they are usually the more dangerous approach since the drivers are reckless and they pack you in like sardines. But that's life I guess.

We arrived at Azrou in time to check in to our hotel and then go out for dinner. (which was chicken, rice, and soup for 22 deerhams, essentially 3 dollars) This little mountain village is a beautiful quite town of about 50,000. It has a homey feel and breathtaking views of the mountains that surrounds it. We were accompanied throughout the weekend by one of the staff at the school I go to. Fouad's hometown is Azrou and he graciously volunteered his weekend off to take us through the mountain.

We awoke Saturday morning ready to set out for the mountain. We gathered the supplies around the city from various friends of Fouad's and then were off. We hiked up a winded path to the first mountain and then wound our way through a couple other peaks. The mountains are very rocky, which is fitting since Azrou means rock in tamazigh, one of the berber languages. This city has a large berber population.

We reached an opening where there were shepherds watching their sheep. As the silly Americans that we are, some of the group wanted photographs with these sheep. However, we really only succeeded in herding sheep, as anytime we approached them they ran away. We laughed, exchanged some baas, and then later reflected on what we must have looked to them. It's like someone coming to America, seeing something common like cars, and then chasing after them yelling vroom vroom. I hope we gave the shepherds something to laugh about later on.

The rest of the weekend can be summed up in a few words I think. We walked 25-30 kilometers, 15-18 miles? A few of the girls went back to the hotel while the rest of us stayed in the mountain. We ate chicken and vegetable tajjine over the campfire, watched a marvelous sunset, and camped in tents. I awoke with two other students for the sunrise over a rocky field. It was so cool in its eeriness and painted beauty. I can't resist a good sunset.

Sunday we continued our hike to find apes. Yes, our friends the apes. We saw wild ones that were hesitant to approach us, even after tempting them with peanuts. We found more apes that were more used to tourists and were willing to approach us cautiously and eat from our hand... hence the photograph featured. I returned to Rabat late and tired and so content. The more I am in the outdoors the more I realize how much I dislike much of city life. The more I explore the countryside and small villages of Morocco the more I love it.

I love you all and miss you friends and family! My mom is coming in a week and a half so pray that all the travel plans go well and she gets here safely! Yay!

Mohammedia and more...

Hello friends and family. General updates.
I am still in Morocco - healthy and happy currently.
It’s getting hotter here, a bit of humidity has hit. My face is strangely tan while the rest of me, since usually pretty covered up, is not.

I had a great weekend. I wandered around Rabat on Friday after couscous with some girls from the program. We went to the Hassan mosque which is the ruins of an enormous yet unfinished mosque. After that I went to a cafe and got avocado juice with dried fruit with my host sister. It is delicious.

Saturday I went with five other students to my lit professor’s house for the day. He invited us for the weekend but due to pre-made plans, we only stayed for Saturday. I had a great time and enjoyed being with a kind family who really wanted us there. He has four daughters and each of them were so kind and genuine. I have missed my parents a lot and being with this family reminded me so much of my family, my professor mostly of my dad. I LOVE YOU and MISS YOU DAD! A quote of my professor’s to his 21 year old daughter…
Daughter – Dad, all I need is a car. (meaning she wants his help)
Dad – I agree. Once you finish school, get a job and you should get a car.
And I will be so happy for you.
And from time to time you can give my a lift.
Needless to say his daughter wasn’t pleased with the answer.

Sunday, I found the Rabat International Church. I got there early, since I wasn’t entirely sure where it was and talked with one of the English pastors for a while. He was very kind and discussed the political and religious atmosphere in Morocco with me. A notable case of Christians deported occurred within the last two weeks from Village of Hope, a ministry in the Atlas mountains. In a nutshell, Village of Hope is a sort of foster care program operating for the last 10 years for orphaned Moroccan children. The parents take these children into their homes and raise them as their own. However, they are unable to adopt as a result of the strict religious laws in Morocco. They are Christians and so unable to adopt Muslim Moroccans. As a result of supposed proselytizing, even though the organization has said that they didn’t do anything different, but had always been open about their faith in Jesus, they are being sent from the country to their respective home countries. This leaves these children without the only family many of them have ever known. Pray for the political situation and that other countries would bring pressure to the Moroccan leaders to reverse this action, restoring these families.

Anyway, I went to the service and afterward met another American who was coming for the first time from another program. She was very sweet and together we went to a café after the service with some other young people from the church. There were girls from Germany, Korea, Finland, America, and Britain plus two guys from Ghana. One of the guys shared his testimony with us and how he had come to faith, finding his salvation and eternal assurance in Christ.

I am torn between wanting to stay around Rabat for the next few weekends and wanting to explore Morocco more. I am realizing I don't have a lot of weekends left and so am going to start planning more to make the most of the time here.

Dondee Essstaaa Barcelloonnna Weekend...

This weekend I ventured out of my comfortable moroccan existence to visit the faraway land of Barcelona.
I took two trains and a plane on Friday for my brief Spanish holiday. I had wonderful sun-filled weather and great food. PLUS, I was able to see some of my lovely friends from Drake who were there for the week on a mission trip.

My friend and I were mistaken for Spaniards multiple times (although not by spaniards, by tourists). We almost felt like we blended in with a country and enjoyed the time where we didn't stick out everywhere we go. We didn't draw stares and didn't hear any degrading remarks. It was a wonderful respite.
We were site-seeers extraordinaire. I saw Sagrada Familia, Parc Guill, various other Goudy houses and buildings and the magic fountains. To make the trip even better, we stumbled upon the world's longest bench. I sat on it. Not sure what else to say about the bench, it was very long and windy and was very comfortable. Perhaps my favorite bench in the world. We did a little bit of European shopping, hearing that prices are better in some of Barcelona's stores since they originate from Spain.

The weekend concluded with seeing Drake people from my church in Des Moines. It was wonderful to see so many people and to spend time with them. I attended the Sunday morning worship with them and then Alicia and I were accompanied the rest of the afternoon with Jon and Ashley. We saw the beach, ate gelato, and visited a pretend road? - There was a park with an abundance of road signs and road markers which we assumed is for those parents who don't want to deny their children anything, including playing in the street. It seemed like a safe and contained alternative.

We came back to Casablanca at 9:40 pm, ran to catch the first train and then planned on taking the second train right away, leaving us in rabat at midnight. However, the train wasn't going to arrive until 12:55am. Bringing us to Rabat at 2am. I arrived back safe and sound thanks to a friend meeting me at the station. A restful end to a restful weekend.

The Saharan Weekend in the Red Dunes...

Hello Friends and Family.
This weekend I spent four days traveling and visiting the Sahara desert. It was great!

After an 8 hour day of traveling on a bus, we arrived at a beautiful resort in the middle of nowhere. It reminded me of the Moroccan exhibit at Epcot, with lush gardens, Moroccan music, two pools, and everything else for a palace-esque Moroccan paradise. We arrived Thursday night, had a great buffet style meal, complete with couscous, lamb, cow hooves, and who knows what else.. There was dancing and Berber (native Moroccan) music after dinner. Of course I joined in and felt compelled to dance. They brought out some of the sparkly hip belts and tried to teach us to shake our hips like they did. Most of us failed miserably. But we failed together at least.

Friday we woke up bright and early, ready to leave the comfort of the hotel for a day of museums and ruins. We had a little rundown of the area and the historic significance; there was a wall of sultan portraits that was a little surreal to look at. We have our history of presidents, some wearing wigs. They have a history of sultans, bearing swords.

We had lunch and visited a few shops. I bought a black berber scarf for the camel ride, even though the traditional color is blue. But really, I just have so many blue things. Scarfs in hand, or on head, we were ready for the desert.

I rode a camel (the Arabic word is Jamal) that I named Xavier, although he had a real name that I could not pronounce nor remember correctly. Dahabeena...? X was easier. My camel was old and short, not the cutest of the bunch, but trusty and pretty chill. We were tied up in lines of 5, each led by a guide. Initially, hearing that you are led by someone doesn't seem as exciting when riding an already very slow camel. However, since the dunes are actually very difficult to maneuver, since you sink down into them a bit, it was nice having a professional Berber show our camels the safest paths to take. Camel riding gets a bit sore after a while and scary when you are going downhill. All I can compare it to is a continual process of falling, very bumpy. But I survived.

It was a breathtaking trip as we rode across the dunes as the sun was setting. After the two-hour camel ride, we arrived at camp. A huge sand mountain was behind our tents and a few of the students decided to climb it. It's not that high, right? A couple guys started running. I, evidently never one to be outdone, started to run too. This put me (and the guys) out of breath within five minutes. Then we started to realize how freakishly high this mountain was. Half of it I legitimately climbed by crawling up... on my hands and knees since the sand sunk so much that walking was futile. A few of us made it to the top (well after dark at this point) and we forgot the pain and reveled in our success. It was really windy up there and I believe that I conquered the mountain merely by collecting it in my hair. Of course, I ran down.

Back at our circle of tents, we enjoyed a meal together and then dancing broke out again. This time more people joined in, rocking out to the Berber drum beats. We took the dancing outside and under the stars. We had 5 or 6 Berber guys that were our guides and musicians, each willing to show us some move they enjoyed. A couple people tried pounding out a beat on their drums. I refrained from drumming, compelled instead to dance on the sand in the destitute darkness.
Watch out USA, I might be bringing some of the berber moves back to the states...



P.S. Evidently the politically correct thing to call Berbers is the Amazigh, but most just go by Berber. There has been a sort of mini-revolution in Morocco, where the Berber language used to be against the law and the people were labelled as second-class citizens. Now the culture and heritage is increasingly more valued and the government is attempting to right old wrongs.

After a lot of people went to bed, I stayed for a little just chatting with the Berbers and some other students. We left camp and went out past where the camels were sleeping, and told jokes and riddles. The riddles, as tricky as they already are, were even harder from the Berbers when their English was only so/so. If you got an answer wrong, they would yell, MAAA, or BAAA, I couldn't really tell.

In the morning, I awoke to catch the sunrise over the dunes, but unfortunately it was cloudy and hard to see much, plus we had to leave and ride the camels back. :( However, this only inspires me to someday return to watch the sunrise again over the Sahara. I am left with hope instead of disappointment. It was beautifully serene.

Saturday we went to a self-sustaining women's center, where the rural community creates their own goods, grows their food and educates the children. Then we headed back to the first hotel, where we had a free day to eat, swim, and do whatever. I swam in both the outdoor pool and then, as a result of a sandstorm (it is the desert after all) swam inside. I haven't swam in a long time and it felt wonderful. I relaxed the rest of the day, taking a much needed nap and getting some reading in.

Sunday we headed back and passed by one mountain area where there were wild monkeys!!! Well, I guess they were apes. Tourists where feeding them and taking pictures; one was eating the Yami Yogurt that we all like so much. Cute AND smart little guys.

I am comfortably back and listening to traffic and honking horns in Rabat, missing the quiet of the desert. I love you all friends and family!

Marrekesh

So.. I didn't take this picture, I took more of the hike than Marrakesh. Oops. But here is what I saw briefly before exiting the city...

This weekend began after couscous Friday when I packed up and left for the train station with some friends from the program. Off to Marrakesh we go. After getting on the wrong train, where we made our entry and then an awkwardly quick exit, we got on the right train and were off. The train was packed and we didn’t have seats for a while until finally settling into the very hot and steamy un-air-conditioned cabs. There were 8 to a cab and it was laid out like the train on Anastasia where they almost die? Do you know what I mean? Anyway, four and a half hours later we were in Marrakesh, about 930ish. P.s., this was the prophets birthday weekend in case you didn't know, and so festivities were sure to be extensive.

We arrived at Marrakesh and were struck by the stark difference from anywhere else we’ve seen in Morocco. Marrakesh is a sort of Moroccan playplace, with snake charmers (I was approached persistently by a snake charmer where I actually ran away.), monkeys, music, and dancing. They have this central square where tented restaurants are set up that smoke from the grilling. They also have lots of stands with dates, figs and tasties such as these red sugar peanuts, plus lots of fresh orange juice and grapefruit juice stands. They are extremely pushy and will legitimately grab your arm and drag you to their stand. It was very intimidating. I feel bad for anyone who would come to Morocco and only see Marrakesh. It is so unlike anywhere else and only really suited for tourists. There were lush and exotic hotels and resorts that harshly contrasted the shanty towns we passed just hours before in Casablanca. It is a red city, where the architecture all has a red tint to it, something in the building material they used from the area. I heard something about orc? whatever that may be. With the lights it sort of glows, creating an otherworld feel combined with the exotic music.

After the chaos of Friday night, the group split up for Saturday’s plans. I decided to climb a mountain for waterfalls instead of site-seeing in Marrakesh. We wondered around the city and then sketchily found a couple grand taxis to take us to the cascades, getting the price almost cut in half, about 2 hours outside of the city. We figured out we were going to the wrong falls in the middle of the drive, but just sort of went with it. Once there we wandered and then hired this little persistent kid to take us through the mountain to the falls. I, unfortunately was wearing flip flops and a skirt, was not suited for the walk, but went anyway. Despite a couple of close calls with clothing, extremely steep climbs where we assumed death or severe injury was coming, (We definitely didn’t sign any waivers for the walk) we found the falls. They were beautiful, as well as some of the views we found climbing up the mountain. We had a relaxing tanjiya that was pretty much tajjine(meat and vegetables sort of like a potroast in a special ceramic tp- esque thing.. i'll take pictures don't worry) but grilled over coals for dinner and couldn’t stop commenting on how beautiful and perfect the day was. We sat at a little outdoor restaurant that was right next to a calm river. This was such a needed break from the busy city life and constant on edge-ness I have been experiencing. It never ceases to amaze me how wonderful and vast God’s creation is. The tranquility was broken when we were affronted by our now angry taxicab driver who said we were two hours late to go back… We for sure didn’t set a time, but oh well, at least he still took us back for which we were thankful.

That night we ate, walked around and just enjoyed the evening. Sunday I caught the train back and enjoyed a better ride with all women in the cab, making a much less awkward 5 hour ride. Little things really do help the trip.

Conclusion? I have no desire to go back to Marrakesh. The blatant tourist nature sort of had no charm for me. The people were pushy and put me on edge, including this little man who came right up to me, followed me saying something to me, and then pointed in my face and laughed at me. Unsettling. However, the day in the outdoors next to waterfalls and a river has replenished my spirits and given me a much needed respite, of that I am thankful. All in all a good weekend. Also, I now have a bag of dates of which I can’t stop eating. They are so cheap here and soooo excellent. I will miss the dates and figs when I go home as they are much more expensive in the states.


(I also didn't take this picture since they charge for photos with the snakes and monkeys... but you get the idea)

ooh, side note... I totally stumbled upon a moroccan wedding procession on the street last night. I was walking around with my host sisters and heard the music and saw the bride being put up on the gold riding chair where she is actually carried around the city to the beat of the drums and the music. Very cool. I didn't have my camera. :( But, my host sister said that sometimes their family hosts weddings at her house and that I might be able to go to one if they do! That is all my friends. :) Much love.

Settled and Comfortably Exploring...

(This little girl's name is Neerma, which means something like a gift, sort of the Arabic form of Grace. She is the daughter of one my host sisters and one of the cutest little girls.)

So I am settled into my family and home. I get lost half as much winding through the medina. In case I haven’t fully explained what the medina is, it means city, but in Fes and now in Rabat, it is usually the word that refers to the oldest part of a city that is walled in. To go to my home here from the school, I walk through the new city, which looks very European from the French colonization to the medina, or the old city. I walk through a large arched door in the walls that surround the city. Once I am inside the medina, I am immediately confronted by every possible merchandise possible. I wind through these streets and get to the alleys that lead to the houses. However, what looks like a sketchy alley to us, is really a normal street. All the houses are walled in as well. This means no yards, no driveways, no trees, none of the normal suburban space but instead old city walls. Just thought I would explain that a bit…

Think about the song, a whole new world, and picture the area they fly through in the beginning… under the archways and such? Yep, that is where I am living for the next three months…

I have officially started my classes. I had been taking intensive Darijja, but now am taking Foosa (modern standard Arabic), Advanced French, Maghrebian Francophone literature, and Gender and Society in Morocco. A lot of the literature class has focused on the French colonization of north Africa and what is has meant for their identity. Algeria, who was occupied for 130 years, has suffered intense injury and crises from the colonization. This comes through in their writings, their attitudes and even their present-day politics. Morocco and Tunisia only were occupied about 45 years? And therefore it is much harder to find traces of the colonization struggle in their writings. What you find instead is a sort of French ideal in Morocco. The French language is essential to succeed, either in the government, the social ladder, most professional careers… French is imitated and revered. French is commonly the language that young men will speak to young women they are interested in as well, since it is the most impressive language they speak.

A lot has happened I guess… I almost was robbed Saturday. I was walking through the medina at night, when it was really crowded and a guy tried to reach into my purse. I pulled it toward me and looked at him. It didn’t dawn on me what was happening, I just sort of felt something weird. One of the girls I was walking with noticed what was happening and pulled my purse too. The guy let go, walked by us, and then turned back where he had came from. It was a bit awkward really.
Sunday, I went to another hamon, (public bath). This one was different from the natural one in Fes and not a sulfur spring, but more of a shower room/ with the heat of a sauna/ but with buckets and not showers…? I paid a few extra Deerham (which is nothing really) to have the massage as well. It was well worth it. I was viciously scrubbed until my skin was red. I don’t think I have ever been so clean.

I explored by myself today since the sun was so wonderful. My mission? Find the ocean and a good spot for reading and prayer. While I am sure the quiet would come more in the morning when there aren’t a million creepy guys vying for your attention… I did find some great spots. Rabat is an interesting city in relation to the ocean. The city turns its back on the ocean. It was built with ocean invaders in mind and so the ocean was used as a defense and not for pleasure. The city is built on the hill overlooking the ocean and has graveyards on the hill coming up from the ocean. It isn’t really built with tourists in mind, like some of the other ocean cities are now. It has a very rocky coast that I saw, with some jetties that go out pretty far.

There is a small city that was built closer to the ocean, Odayas Kasbah. The walls are the white and blue that reminds you of the Greek islands. There is a beautiful café that overlooks the ocean with several peaceful terraces. It has a calm breeze and a beautiful view. I feel above it all and not at all in Rabat there.

I also love the rain here. This is mostly because it rains inside my house and I hear it at night. This might require some explanation… My host house, as I’ve said, is in the walled in Medina. This house is quite large and has a kind of courtyard in the middle. It opens up to the sky and has walled rooms with doors, windows and ceilings surrounding it. There is a formal sitting room and a living room that has a computer and a tv. They are Moroccan decorated, but in a classy way. The house speaks for itself. It has beautiful mosaics and stone floors, with several elegant Moroccan rugs. My room is up the stairs and overlooks the courtyard. I have stone floors and sort of a stucco walls. I will have to take a video of it so you can fully understand what I am saying, since it is unlike any house I have ever seen in the States. I like it at night, since on a clear evening you can see the stars from in the house.

Beginning in Rabat.

Today is Friday and I arrived in Rabat on Thursday. I am somewhat settled in to my new host family and home in the medina of Rabat. My family is much larger, with six children (four daughters and two sons); the oldest son isn’t at home though. Some of the daughters are married and have their children at this house with them. This seems to be a trend. In America, once someone is married they usually move out and then have children. This doesn’t seem to be the case in morocco… The children are adorable though, in elementary school and learning foosa (modern classical Arabic) in addition to speaking darijja (the Moroccan dialect) and learning French and English. Smart kids. Most people here speak so many languages that it puts us Americans to shame.

There are also two other students staying at the house, one Dutch and one Egyptian. One is studying here and the other is on vacation here, but both speak some English and seem to be nice girls. I am now the only American though and no longer have a roommate from the program. I am on my own, with the exception of these two girls.

The mother and father seem nice, welcoming me saying that I am their new daughter and this is my new home. I showed them pictures of my family and friends and they seemed to be impressed, saying my family is beautiful. I couldn’t argue of course. :)
Last night one of the students, the son and I went walking around Rabat. It is a much bigger and more modern city than Fes. I got stared at half as much and started to get accustomed to the city. It is much more European and so far much warmer too.
Thursday we had a little tour with the study abroad group. Here are a couple things of interest. There are marches and protests everyday at Parliament. We walked by the parliament building today. Apparently the marches have to do with people receiving degrees and still being unemployed. There are mixed reactions to the protestors. Sometimes they end in violence and the police get involved. I was told that pictures should be taken with caution since the police have been known to restrict cameras and even confiscate curious onlookers looking to snap a candid shop.

The medina, while smaller, has better prices and is much less touristic. It is not half as confusing to maneuver and I like the clothing a lot more. My jeans are all a bit stretched out, probably since I have worn them so many times and can’t dry them in a dryer. So I might be making a jean purchase soon. One of the sisters is 18 and offered to go shopping with me, since I am quite American and will get a better price with a moroccan. I gladly obliged.

Pray for my communication and mutual understanding, my interactions with friends and now the family, and simply that I would trust the Lord in all things. Also pray for that the Lord would give me wisdom and bless this time here.

I miss you and love you all.

Last Day in Fes...

Today is my last full day in Fes and so marks the end of one portion of my trip. Last night my host family presented my roommate and I with gifts. My sweet family gave my roommate and I each a necklace, a leather coin purse, and a leather slipper key chain. The necklaces are very moroccan with silver and blue large beads. So we were pumped. I now felt compelled to present them with my gift for them. I brought a great Minnesota book with pictures of snow and lakes and such to give to them. Unfortunately, crazily enough, one of the last students they had was also from Minnesota and presented them with the exact same book.

Oops. So i retrieved my book anyway, wrote a nice little note in the front, and gave them their second Minnesota picture book.
They were very gracious and acted excited to receive the gift anyway. They then informed us that they really liked us and didn't give gifts to the other students they housed. It's so nice to know that they liked us as much as we liked them! They have been so gracious to us and extremely welcoming. I couldn't have asked for a better host family.

Couple events of note....

On Sunday we traveled to a hilled country city, I am continuously forgetting the name, and went to a Moroccan high school. There we met with English classes that have been studying for 2 to 3 years. Their English was great. We met in small groups with students and helped them practice their English (since they had never spoken with native speakers), while answering any questions they had about America. At one point one of the girls and I got into an almost heated discussion about why I don't cook at every meal. I told them it was a waste of time to cook when it's just me eating at school. I mean, I have other things to do that are more productive then create elaborate meals for myself, right? Anyway, she thought I said it was a waste of time to cook at all. While I did correct her, she still seemed to put down my apparent lack of domestic abilities. I now feel compelled to attempt more cooking and other household activities when I return to America after less than adequate by these 16 year olds....

Traveling plans....
People are stirring about our April spring break plans. I will be in Granada for some of the time with the program and possibly somewhere else the rest of the time with some students? Possibly Senegal? Or Greece? We shall see. I yearn for beaches and sun. Not sure if I've mentioned it, but since the initial sunshine and warmth of the first week, we have experienced the full force of the winter rainy season in Morocco. I am usually a bit damp and chilly from the weather. But it really isn't anything to complain about, it is far warmer then back home.

That's all I can think of until I arrive in Rabat. Tonight we have a last dinner at a restaurant in Fez and then on to my next adventure!

Love you all!!!!
This is a pic of some of the girls (and me) in the group overlooking the city of meknes...

Volubilis, Street Children, and Meknes...

Wowza. I have had a whirlwind of the last couple of days.

Friday: Typical class in the morning (we had a Darija quiz - I couldn't remember how to say here is your money, so I finished my shopping dialogue with, sorry I have no money! Bye).

In the afternoon we went to an association for street children that work to educate them and then reintegrate them into schools. They provide formal education in an informal setting. We played with these adorable little guys (it was an all-boys center) and tried to teach them english. I had a group of 4 around me that would repeat everything I said. Then they tried to teach me more words in Darija. However, would laugh whenever I said anything. I also taught them some french. We ended the afternoon with an intense game of futball, Americans vs. the moroccans. I don't remember who won, but it was really fun. Soccer really is the world's game.

In the evening was bath night. And by that, I mean my roommate and I packed into the car with our host family and drove 30 minutes outside of Fez. We went to a hamon, a public bath house. This one is a natural geiser-type thing that smells of sulfur, but people use the water and the steam for its bathing qualities, since it is evidently very good for your skin. They have separate bath houses for men and women. It was quite the experience. In the end I smelled not so sweet but my skin felt oh so soft. If you want any more detail, ask me later.

Saturday: We had tours. We went to Volubilis, which are ancient Roman ruins in Morocco. Very cool. We saw amazing architecture that remained in tact and beautiful mosaics that were uncovered. The romans never cease to amaze me with their advanced technology and way of living. Anyone who insists that we are more educated or evolved since ancient times has obviously not been to ancient Roman ruins.

We had lunch in Meknes and then went to the imperial city of Meknes. Moulay Ismail established this city as the capitol of his empire, building a beautiful city among an even more beautiful countryside. This city could be called the Versailles of Morocco with the elaborate buildings. The place he is buried is a huge walled palace essentially and is decorated with elaborate mosaics and architecture. As far as I know, only he resides there. During his reign I heard that he owned 12,000 horses...

Contrasted with the beauty of the city and the architecture, is a dark side of the city. Evidently, Moulay Ismail really was a tyrant. "My subjects are like rats in a basket, and if I don't shake the basket, they will gnaw their way out." He is quoted as saying. We saw the dungeons that were only known to the emperor and the guards that guarded them, since they are located beneath the city. There he imprisoned at least 60,000 people. Eery to see the place where thousands of people died torturous deaths.

I love you all and miss you!

Couscous and Ceramics..

Hello Sahbakum w LAala (friends and family)

I am pleased to report that my stomach has settled for the time being and I’m feeling better. Thank you for your prayers. I am now sort of settled in and slightly more familiar with my surroundings. I have a local shop I regularly visit for water, a route I take to school and back, and even a class schedule and friends. Routine is attempting to interrupt my Moroccan adventure.

Events of late: I visited a ceramic shop Thursday in Fez where they create ceramics and mosaics at every stage of the process. The mosaic construction as well as pottery construction is so intricate, resulting in wonderful pieces. Very cool. We saw everything from the mud before the clay, to the molding, to the fire, to the paint and glaze, and who knows what else goes into those pieces of art. I love the imagery of a potter as our heavenly father, who has labored over us painstakingly to mold us how he wants us.

Wednesday, I had a Moroccan cooking lesson. “How to Make Couscous”. I’m sorry, but I have officially decided to never endeavor upon this long and arduous task myself. While homemade couscous is excellent, it took at least 2 and a half hours to make. Yikes. I will take my instant couscous thank you very much. The process involves mixing, multiple times boiling, sifting, and fresh chicken. (As in we picked out the chickens to be killed and then witnessed the gruesome event, bringing it home to cook that evening) However, I will add cooked vegetables and store bought chicken to my couscous in honor of the class. I realize that my food won’t ever come close to the greatness that is Moroccan couscous, but maybe someday it will resemble it?

Another fun thing, my little host brother and sister, the 6 year old and an 8 year old, have discovered the greatness of Macs. They have been recording songs on garage band and had lots of laughs with Photobooth. Silly faces connect people with greater ease then knowing the language ever does - at least with 6-year-old children. : )

Prayer requests anyone? Simply that I would stay healthy and give every moment to the Lord. Pray that every conversation I have would give God glory and that my weak body wouldn’t interfere. Pray for my French and my ability to communicate with my host family.

6 hours of exploration Sunday, Monday/Tuesday = Sick. :(

Sunday, my roommate (Sarah) and I decided we needed to be walking more as a result of our excellent food... So we explored the medina for two hours in the morning with our host sister and then ate a delicious lunch of seasoned turkey and salad followed by exploring for 4 hours in the afternoon with some other girls from the program. The medina really has something of everything.

It is impolite to barter with someone if you have no intention of buying the item, however, we accidently got into a situation with a berber who owned a silver shop. He insisted we came into his store, something about good luck. We went in = first mistake.
Second, he told us about the berbers a bit, and where he came from, concluding with offering us tea, sugar or no sugar? We, not sure what to do, looked to our host sister, who said uhh, ok. We each responded with sugar please. This acceptance of tea would be our second mistake.

Next, he pointed to the silver jewelry and told us that by not touching the objects, we are giving him bad luck. Sketchy? Yes. He then brought out the rings we were looking at, I am looking for a good deal on a silver ring... He gave us a price of 300 Deerham, which is way too much. I probably had 20 D with me, which, in American dollars equals about $3.00. Definitely not enough for what he was getting at. We then set about getting out of there, insisting that we wanted to look around more first. Once he got the picture that we weren't going to barter and weren't going to buy anything, he got very mad. He angrily turned the lights off in the store and then we got OUT OF THERE. My roommate later told me she thought we were going to die. lol. I don't know if I'd go that far, but I wouldn't bet on it by going back... Live and learn.

Another update? I am now sick. :( I thought it was only eggs at first, since we had oil doused omelets Sunday night for dinner. Which were delicious, I must say.. Monday was spent in nauseous silence, until finally concluding with my evening spent in the bathroom. Which, although not as eventful as my trash can experiences in spain... ask me later about that. :) It was still a public sickness where my whole study abroad group was a room over from me. I survived the slight embarrassment and took the next day off (today) to stay at my host house, alternating between the bedroom and the bathroom. Fear not, I will give no more details.

I am not worried about my bout with an upset stomach. No matter how careful we Americans are with the water and food, we are bound to fall ill from the newness of it all and the contents of the water. I am sure I will not be alone in my ailment, unfortunately. I am getting plenty of rest and liquids (bottled water), in case anyone becomes concerned. This was a nice opportunity to catch up on some reading for me too. I have been reading Pilgrim's Progress (Christian and Faithful just met with Talkative), combined with 1st Samuel and Philippians. This was a good resting and re-focusing morning for me.

A couple things I thought I would describe. Maybe I am starting to feel better since I am thinking first about food...

Moroccan Mint Tea = The moroccans love the sugary hot drinks. I ordered plain black tea at a cafe, and was given 6 sugar cubes on the side. I used none of them. Atea, (Not sure the spelling, sounds like A Tay) the moroccan mint tea, is made with mint tea leaves and indecent amounts of sugar. It has the consistency of a hot syrup more than tea. It warms you up and the Moroccans are very proud of it, offering it with cookies to visitors and to us any time of the day.

Bread at every meal = Freshly baked loaves of bread at every meal. These are excellent. Each morning my host family sets out a couple loaves of round flat bread. They are usually still warm from baking it themselves each day. This is combined with topping choices of cheese, a type of honey jam, and a hazelnut spread. I take mine plane, which is still excellent. Each meal following that is combined with this bread as well. If the food served is ever questionable, I have loads of bread to supplement.

Being a woman here. Correction, a white, American woman. I have learned to not make eye contact with anyone passing me, especially men. I have heard every call I can think of, from hello beautiful, my flower, you are spice girls, to other things in different languages. The insistent ones will try greetings in multiple languages, french, english, even spanish. I ignore them all. I don't go anywhere alone, even if daytime. I have heard that one reason that we are so attractive is that America is associated with money. We are these white superstars. The models in the stores are white and blonde. It is strange. I am taking a gender in Morocco class while here and will definitely report more from that.

Love you all!

The Athens of Morocco....

So, as I am writing this I am sitting in a little internet cafe owned by the host family of some friends from my program. It is located in the center of a courtyard on the outskirts of the medina, which is the oldest part of the city. The medina in Fez is apparently the largest medina in the world. It is also one of the most confusing places to be, acting as a maze to outsiders. So of course we are going to explore.

Just to preface this day tour, I have to admit to being a little lost last night coming back from the American Arabic School. While we (I mean me and my roommate) took a petit taxi to the school somewhat successfully, we desperately wanted to walk more then drive on the way home. So, along with four other girls, my roommate and I embarked upon the return trip. Evidently my roommate, our neighbors, and I all forgot what the house looked like where we were staying, We therefor passed it and continued to wander for an hour until we decided to ask for help... This proved even more funny because we asked for a ride from a taxi, who wouldn't bring us back since we were evidently, "already there" A hotel receptionist told us the same thing, pointing to the next building over. Oops, crises averted.

Today, we thankfully had a guide, and our whole group was taken all through the medina. Aside from exploring the winding, donkey-filled streets, and passing the markets of everything possible, we visited several key spots. We saw scarves and blankets being woven from silk... I, of course was ecstatic and might have bought a scarf.. or two... They are beautiful. We also visited the tannery and saw every stage of leather-making. Evidently this is one of the hardest jobs in the world. The smell was a bit atrocious, but it was countered by mint leaves that we could smell instead. Fez is apparently known for its leather goods. Since none of us are muslims, we were unable to enter any mosques, but did enter an old one which isn't in use anymore. This one was ridiculously ornate. Aside from this, I had a date and a couple of figs from a stand. They were delicious. I will definitely have more in the weeks to come.

Well, aside from this, I have explored a bit and sat in the sun, I'm sorry to report to all you snow-surrounded friends. I am a bit pink from the weather, and pleased. :)

I love you all!

Le jardin est tres beau...

Bonjour!

Salaam w Alekum!
(here's where you answer) W Alekum Salaam.

This is a greeting I have worked on during my two days of Darija, the Moroccan dialect of Arabic. We have three weeks of this in Fez and then we will begin Modern Standard Arabic. Another greeting, Labas? Where you answer, Labass. There, now you can make a Moroccan friend. :)

Right now I am sitting outside on a bench at the English Arabic school in the midst of a beautiful garden. 70's, sunny, and quite pleasant, I must say. I can't get over how wonderful the weather is.

I arrived at my Fez homestay last night. I will describe the actual house later.. but the family seems really great. The father and mother both speak French and Arabic, so I can communicate without much trouble with them in French. They have two daughters plus an adopted daughter. The 19 year old daughter speaks French, English, and Arabic, so it is easy to talk with her. They also have two sons, one who is 23 ad speaks French, Moroccan, and a little English and the other son is 6. The 6 year old is learning French and so he speaks to us some in that. He is such a cute little guy and brought his toy cars out to play with us, also showing us some fancy karate moves. We also overhear him in other rooms singing loudly for the whole medina to hear. The family has a maid/ nanny that has worked for them for thirty years. They are very generous and were very welcoming to us.

I will write more later, I need to get out and enjoy the lovely afternoon!

Fuzzy Fez...

Hello again....

After a beautiful breakfast with freshly squeezed orange juice, fruits, croissants, cucumbers, tomatoes, olives... you know, typical breakfast foods, we headed out to Rabat. We went to the IES building and had a safety discussion and a short orientation. We were served very tasty little cookies and moroccan mint tea - the main content of the tea being sugar of course. While I prefer unsweetened tea, I eventually did drink my whole little glass.

Next we had lunch with one of the host families in Rabat at their home. One thing I like about Rabat is the decrepit buildings. Many of these are homes from the middle ages, definitely showing the age on the outside. However, get past the unassuming walls and there are gems within. They aren't built to impress people, showing off their fancy exterior. Instead, they are inviting places that are warm and open to visitors within.

We walked into this home and were immediately struck by the architecture, the bright colors, the paintings, and other signs of Moroccan flair and comfort. The food was amazing (couscous which is eaten from a central bowl, i'll describe this later) and the family was very gracious. I was blessed to find out that this was MY FAMILY. It is beautiful, has a wonderful courtyard in the middle of rooms, lofted pillow filled beds, think Aladdin style digs... It's close to my classes and I am excited.. I won't be back to Rabat for two weeks though.

Next we arrived in Fez today, one of the imperial cities. It used to be the capital, so it's very nice, though not as busy as some of the larger cities. We ate another wonderful dinner.... this food has the potential to drastically impact my waistline... :( When in Rome, right?

I will be here for two weeks, I go to my Fez homestay tomorrow and start Arabic bright and early tomorrow morning. EEK. Moroccan Arabic is very different from Standard Arabic... so I won't be the only one confused, since the students that have studied arabic already are almost as confused with me with the dialect change. We shall see, we shall see....

Here's looking at you kid..

So, I made it.

My trip included a teary goodbye with the family. Four months I have just realized is a very long time to be away.
I then proceeded by flying to a snowy Chicago, where I enjoyed a window seat with no one sitting next to me. At Chicago O'Hare I drank some tea, which contributed to keeping me awake on the long night flight (even though I had my own section to myself to stretch out). It was very good tea though, so I got over it.
I arrived to Paris and the confusion set in. I didn't really know where to go, followed people, followed some more people, and then attempted to interact with the French....

I was moderately successful and after an hour and half of wondering through the airport, tired and very heated, I finally took the shuttle and found my terminal where I printed that illusive boarding pass and then found my boarding terminal. Next stop Casablanca.
While there I met some other girls from the program flying on my plane, other young American girls traveling alone, definitely easy to spot. We packed on a very smelly bus, got to our hotel, ate some pizza, amidst confusion and a bit of a scene. The last person got here, so now it is all 21 of us? I think that's right.

This may have been too much detail to be interested in, but its the start of an adventure. So it's relevant.

It is really warm outside and thunder storming now.

All my love to you all.

Leaving for MOROCCO!!!!

Welp. Tomorrow I leave for Morocco. I will fly from Minneapolis to Chicago to Paris to Casablanca. Pray for safe travels friends?
I am going to attempt to keep any friends and family up-to-date with my adventures via this. I love you all and will miss you quite a bit!

Since I am leaving tomorrow, I thought I would share a couple of pre-trip thoughts. I look forward to being in a place where I am not in control. Seems strange? Maybe. But we are so accustomed to having everything how we want it on a silver platter. Frankly, I look forward to a bit of confusion. I want to be stretched, physically, mentally, and spiritually. I look forward to meeting new people and exploring a new culture. I am also excited to see God's hand in my life through a new setting. I am ready to be used however God has planned for me, whatever that may mean. In addition to all this weighty stuff, I've heard the weather is wonderful. You know.. hanging out on the Mediterranean and all... Sorry Minnesota. :)

I am slightly nervous about a bit as well. My Arabic is nonexistent at this point. That alone will be present me with a challenge. My French is... well... it is floundering at best. It will also be eye-opening to live in a primarily Muslim country, where I am the minority in almost every way. As a woman, in a male-dominated, Muslim country, I am prepared to experience a whole new set of experiences as well. I pray that each day I come upon will be an opportunity to give God glory.

More later once I get to Morocco!