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.