A Moment of Reflection

December 3

Hey everyone,

Happy December! I hope you all are having a wonderful last month of year 2014, and looking forward to the new year! There are a lot of great things in store for all of us, Insha’allah!

The weather today in Rabat, Morocco is dismal, to say the least! It has been raining all day, with torrential downpour every hour or so. I am finding it rather hard to be productive, as all I want to do is curl up and sleep. Regardless, I am still trucking along on my story for journalism and will definitely complete it by the due date, this coming Sunday.

In other news, I am afraid that my mood lately is mirroring today’s weather. As I prepare to make my way home in eleven days, I am met with mixed feelings. At this point, nothing could be more exciting than seeing my family, eating the foods I miss the most, and being back in my own bed.

That being said, I am so deeply disturbed by what is happening in American society these days. Within these last few hours, I learned that Eric Garner’s murderer will not be charged for his crime. Just last week, our nation was shocked by Michael Brown’s murderer avoiding charges as well.

The fact that two black men were killed with no repercussions, and for seemingly no reason except the threat of danger perceived by the color of their skin, really scares me. This kind of injustice occurs every day, but these particular crimes were committed by those who vow to “protect and serve”.

Yes, there is a “race” problem in the United States. The systematic and institutional dehumanization of black and brown bodies has existed since the times of slavery. Yes, I am concerned for my peers and for my own two brothers. Don’t believe me? Check out The New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander.

What concerns me the most, however, is our society’s “accountability” problem, especially in relation to violence. There are many whites and other races of people being harmed, alarmingly from my generation. Little to nothing is or has changed, the cycle continues, and that scares me. When will our society put a stop to ALL senseless persecution?

Having lived in such a peaceful place for the last four months, my mind is unsure of how to cope with coming home. Of course Morocco has its own issues, as all places do, but I feel like I am returning to a war zone.

I will use the lens of race, because I know it best, but people are being killed in their homes, Aiyana Jones, shot on the street, Michael Brown, followed by unstable men, Trayvon Martin, shot down seeking help, Renisha McBride, and mistakenly killed by fifty bullets on the morning of their wedding, Sean Bell.

Late President, and fellow alumnus of my alma mater, Choate Rosemary Hall, John F. Kennedy said,

“I look forward to a future in which our country will match its military strength with our moral restraint, its wealth with our wisdom, its power with our purpose.”

I share this sentiment. I am very optimistic that one day things will change, but when, I am just not sure. Life seems to have these complexities, where no matter how much you think on it, you just cannot come to a solution. How do you get people to change their exclusive way of thinking?

In the meantime, I will just try to enjoy the small things in life: each pot of morning tea, every text message or FaceTime session I have with my family, or even just the fact that I woke up today. Someone, somewhere, did not have that opportunity.

I will keep thinking and praying on this. The Global Studies/Africana Studies double major and Sustainable Development minor are definitely being put to good use at the moment. The literature is astounding. Thanks, Lehigh!

To my readers – you do not AT ALL have to agree with my opinion. I just ask that you respect it. My thoughts in this post come from a place of personal reflection, backed by academic exploration and literature. Until we can all learn to show and execute levels of respect for other lives, we can get nowhere. I welcome comments and dialogue, if you wish!

Until next time,
Rae

Thanksgiving Feasts, Missing Mail & Fighting Procrastination

November 30

Hey Readers!

Hope that this Sunday is fantastic for all of you! Time for another update from yours truly:

Last time I blogged, it was the day before Thanksgiving (November 26, for my new and/or international readers), and I was pretty unsure of what the holiday would bring, seeing as I am 4,000 miles away from home.

The day turned out to be very low-key, but wonderful! I spent the majority of my day in bed, spoke with my mom over FaceTime, and just reflected on the wonderful time I’ve had here in Morocco.

In the evening, I ended up having a “traditional” Thanksgiving dinner with friends from my program. We had roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, rice, and cornbread for the meal, and pumpkin pie, apple pie, and pumpkin cake for dessert.

It was nice to catch up with everyone, especially because I had not seen some of them during the past three weeks of the Independent Study period. It was also hilarious to play Cards Against Humanity again. If you don’t know what that is, click HERE.

In the other days leading up to now, I have just been fighting the urge to do absolutely nothing, and finish this project.

It doesn’t help that my computer charger died, so I have to budget time carefully on my laptop. I’m finding I’m doing most of my work on my iPhone in Notes and it automatically syncs to my computer.

Thank God for being a snobby Apple consumer!!

I am confident that I will be able to survive until I can get a replacement back at home. You never know how much you take your electronics for granted, until you are limited in this way!

In other news, today marks the last week in this beautiful house. At the moment, I am awfully frigid because of the ability of Moroccan structures to keep cool at all costs. However, I still appreciate every square inch of this place.

One thing I will miss, for sure, is how much effort goes into a Moroccan-style home! The colors and patterns are really something!

But really, WHY IS IT SO COLD!?! Today’s high is 59 degrees Fahrenheit, which is not too bad, but I’m sure the house is around 40! I guess it is still better than that New England weather in the U.S., right?

A week from today, we move into Hotel Darna, the same hotel where we had orientation week. Next week will be for evaluation and presentation of our projects.

I cannot believe that exactly two weeks from this day, I will be back home! I can’t wait to be spoiled by family and pig out on the “good stuff” (food) I cannot get in Morocco!

Finally, yesterday verified the malcontent that I hold for the United States Postal Service, or USPS. After waiting over two months, I finally called to look for a package that my mom sent September 23. SEPTEMBER.

First of all, USPS assured my mom that it would reach Morocco within two weeks. My program coordinator indicated that because of Moroccan mail systems, expect four to six. As frustrating as that was, I could deal.

Everyday, I have kept an eye out for that package and received nothing. Online tracking could only tell me that it was sent from New York. Eventually, the site was updated, and I was told my package cleared customs in Morocco on November 17. After that, nothing AGAIN.

Yesterday, November 29, was the last straw. I decided that I would call the Post Office. Thanks to Skype, I was able to call for free, all the way from North Africa!

After 24… TWENTY FOUR minutes on hold, I was finally able to explain the situation to a person, not a useless automated system.

The woman was extremely friendly and was able to tell me that according to her system, as of November 26, my package was… BACK IN NEW YORK CITY! The anger pulsing through me was so real, but I calmly was able to explain that I was on my way home soon from Morocco.

She helped me file a “return-to-sender” claim, and hopefully, I will receive an answer in the next 23 days, the amount of time it takes for Morocco to investigate the situation.

Hopefully the package is already on the way back home, but I now have absolutely no faith in the United States Postal System. That was far too much stress over a ten-pound box, right?

Everyday is an adventure!

Stay tuned guys! The blog isn’t over quite yet!!

All my best,
Rae

My Name is not “Ebola”

November 10

Hey everyone,

I bet that title caught a bit of attention! Let me fill you in on my day and things will make a bit more sense to you all.

Today was another normal day of Independent Study for this journalism student. I am doing my best to keep busy and motivated during this completely free period.

After waking up at a later time than usual, I registered for my final semester of classes as an undergraduate student at Lehigh University. It was rather anti-climactic, as it literally took twenty seconds, but nostalgia definitely hit! I remember freaking out as a freshmen as the internet froze and I couldn’t get into any of my classes without having to email professors. Alas, graduation is upon us!

After the positivity of registration and BOMB breakfast of hard boiled eggs and fresh avocado, I was ready to begin the day. I headed back to Taqqadoum with Maya and our photographer, Al.

Before going to the neighborhood, we went to an association created by a Moroccan expatriate and probably the coolest person I have ever met. He grew up in Morocco, studied in France and the United States, and eventually became a political prisoner because he was in the opposition to the reign of the former King of Morocco, Hassan.

After he was done being a BOSS, he founded this association for sub-Saharan migrants. The place we went to today has only been running since August 4, 2014, but he told us that Moroccans in France have been working with migrants since 1986. This place gives free meals, educational seminars and even clothes to migrants, completely free of charge. What a huge humanitarian effort!

After we spoke to the president and were given a tour, we headed to Taqqadoum on foot. The association was in close proximity, in the next neighborhood.

Here is where my title comes in…

About halfway through our fifteen-minute walk, we passed a school. My best guess was primary, as the kids looked quite young. Our contact, Vivian, explained to us that when walking by the school, many of the students throw rocks and trash at the migrant women. The lack of respect runs so deep, that even children feel bold enough to harass migrants.

She also pointed out that every since the epidemic began, some Moroccans have renamed all migrants “Ebola”, regardless of their origins. Just as soon as Maya and I expressed our disappointment, it began:

We were called “Ebola” by young Moroccan children AT LEAST four separate times. It didn’t matter that we were not migrants, but two American girls who happen to share a similar skin color. It didn’t matter that there are still NO CONFIRMED CASES OF EBOLA IN MOROCCO. And it didn’t matter that my name is Raven M. Gaddy, soon to be a college graduate, NOT “Ebola”.

Whoever said “sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me” is full of it! But I guess I should be glad it wasn’t rocks, right?

I had never felt so much DISGUST, especially at children, in my entire life. No one deserves this treatment, for any reason. The fact that this behavior is left so unchecked, probably because it was learned from the parents, was appalling. This hate is not perpetrated by all Moroccans, but sometimes the poor actions of the few are more visible than those of the many.

I was happy that we were able to brush it off on the surface, but that stuck with me the entire day.

But I guess ignorance is bliss, huh?

The rest of the day was productive. There was no way that some ignorant children would deter us from our job. We met another woman today, who told us her story. The more time we spend with these wonderful people, the closer we are getting to shedding light on something big. I have to keep my mind on the people who do not have the voice they should.

Another adventure tomorrow! We will be going back to the center and to Taqqadoum to make more contacts and hear even more. All of these experiences are worthwhile. Despite the little bumps, I am still so happy!

Hoping for more good stuff and less of the stupidity tomorrow.

Stay tuned,
Rae

Change of Plans

November 9

Hi Readers!

Sadly, I was not able to get to Casablanca for church today. Timing just did not allow for Maya and I. We were both looking forward to the experience, and I hope that I will be able to go another time.

Another early morning for me! I found myself awake at 7:30am for absolutely no reason. While it was annoying, it was the perfect time to catch up on the twenty emails I always seem to get overnight.

Amidst the junk and other irrelevant messages, I received note that my superstar academic advisor, Dr. Jack Lule, had submitted recommendation letters for three out of my six graduate school applications. Furthermore, this was done without me even asking. Lehigh professors, people! I love it!

Here comes the “change of plans” referred to in my title. It was a kick in the butt and complete motivation for what I will be doing for the remainder of today: Graduate School applications. I have already done a great deal of work on all of them, probably half, but there is just something about knowing that the right people have your back. I’ve been working hard, but I can do better.

These trivial confirmation emails made me realize that although it will be fun to go back to Lehigh in the spring, I am most excited for GRADUATION. Wherever I end up, it will be a brand new place, with new people and things for me to do. For better or for worse, I cannot stay in the same place for too long, and my aspirations are always huge.

189 days until I am a Lehigh grad, you guys! Call it inspiration, or call it productivity, I will be putting that next dent in these applications.

Also, tomorrow is a big day for me! The dreaded Lehigh University registration period for seniors is tomorrow at 7am, EST. For me, that is NOON! Thanks, Morocco.

More importantly, tomorrow is the day that Maya and I will be interviewing victimized migrant women in Taqqadoum. My biggest hope is that I can carry the optimism that the Casablanca experience has given me into this interview and that I can give a voice to this group of women. I am here for a project, but it is so much more than that.

I will keep you all updated!
Rae

Up & At It

November 8

Hey people!

I’m sure at this time of day, most of you are still asleep. If you are up at 5am (for my New Englanders) on a Saturday morning, GO BACK TO SLEEP!

For me, it is just after 10am and I have already completed all that I intend to for the day. After going to bed late, or at least late for me, I woke up at 8:30am. I knew that I had two choices: go back to sleep and achieve absolutely nothing the entire day or get up while I still had any motivation.

I’m a firm believer that your attitude first thing in the morning determines your productivity for the entire day.

I chose the latter, threw on some sweats and headed right out the door. I pretty much had nothing except random bits to eat, so I went straight to the vegetable market. I was able to get everything I needed in pretty much one straight shot.

I tell you, there is NOTHING comparable to the amount of food you can get here in Morocco versus what you spend. After about an hour, I left with the following:

Green beans
2 huge carrots
1 cucumber
1 artichoke
3 potatoes
4 apples
2 avocados
1 KILO of dates
8 eggs
Small bag of rice
1 jar of strawberry jam
3 freshly made donuts (breakfast for the roomies and I)

I paid 79 MDH. That is, according to today’s exchange rate, $8.90! With any luck, in the United States, I could have gotten maybe half of that stuff with that same amount.

I now have a full fridge and the feeling of knowing that I can take good care of myself physically, without killing myself financially!

That’s it for me! Back to sleep for a couple of hours. I think I’ve earned it!

More later or tomorrow (who knows what today will bring).

Peace
Rae

Home Sweet Home (Kinda)

November 7

Greetings from Casablanca, readers! I am writing this post on the train home.

Maya and I have been on a wonderful adventure in the name of our Independent Study. Today, we traveled to Casablanca to meet with Reuben, a former migrant, musician and activist in the sub-Saharan community.

We spent over two hours in Cafe de Franz recounting his life, including his experiences in Algeria, Morocco, Ghana, Mali and Nigeria, being stranded in the desert multiple times, and evading violence and other troubles along the way.

To get religious for a moment, I truly believe that Reuben had the hand of God upon him. He escaped things that others have not been fortunate to, stayed to tell his story and has used this opportunity to help as many people as he can. He is covered and blessed and I am honored to have met him today.

After our long talk in the Cafe, Reuben took us into the markets, mostly occupied by African shops and businesses. It is interesting how different the migrant situation is by city in Morocco. While there are still many issues, Casablanca holds a lot more hope than what I have seen in Rabat.

We arrive at the market and OH MY GOSH, you guys! Maya and I were in heaven! There were black hair care products, beautiful handmade cloth, African candy and food, and almost anything that you could want from West Africa.

While wandering around, we encountered a lot of french, but even more ENGLISH! We were greeted warmly and invited into many shops. We had a chance to meet many new people, including a young Moroccan boy whose parents had emigrated to West Africa. His English was excellent and Reuben explained that while he was Moroccan, the boy felt more at home with West Africans.

I felt like a kid in a candy store and Maya and took one look at each other and knew: we were HOME. We will definitely be going back to get our hair done and learn more about the people who live there. MOST importantly, I bought some plantains… For a Jamaican girl, it was like buying gold. The man gave me his card and a very good price! It is something I have not had since was home in August, maybe longer.

Last but not least, Reuben walked us through a park where he used to sleep before he had any place to go, upon his arrival to Morocco. We wandered toward a group of Liberian men who were equally as happy to see us! Reuben told us that it was customary that many migrants, primarily his Liberian friends, went there to chat and see each other.

They asked many questions about where we were from and why we had come to Casa. They even invited us to their church this coming Sunday and, of course, we agreed. Our mothers would be very proud.

All in all, today was incredible. I cannot explain the feeling of feeling so at home, for the first time in awhile. People who look just like me, eating the same food, doing the same things that my family would do.

It is something special that made Morocco and this independent period better for me. Yesterday was a tough one, but I am glad that the sub-Saharan migrants in this country have found a way to persevere and make me feel that there is hope.

I am high off of life and the feeling of finding family. Now, I will be spending the rest of this train ride reflecting.

More for ya soon, my good people!
Rae

Morocco: My Beautiful Dark Twisted Reality

November 6

Hey Readers,

As I sit here at 1:15pm on a Thursday afternoon, all I can ask myself is… WHY? Why does the world have to be like this?

This morning, my classmate and informal partner, Maya, and I traveled to Taqqadoum, a sub-Saharan migrant neighborhood in Rabat. In just a short ten- or fifteen-minute taxi ride, our whole Moroccan experience changed.

We were met by our guide Picas, a man and activist from Cameroon who started an association to assist with the migrants. He walked us through the “dangerous” neighborhood, which teemed with much of the same life that I have already experienced in Rabat. The only difference? A stronger mix of Moroccan and sub-Saharan African and penchant for brutal violence.

After a short walk, Picas introduced us to Vivian, a woman who works in his association. She was very forthcoming about herself and the women she was willing to introduce to us to. As Maya and I sat in the dark, candlelit room, as the landlord cut off their power because of what I will call a “black tax”, we were introduced to a world that no one should ever have to live in: Sexual violence, uncertainty, despair. I knew right then that what Maya and I would be writing will be more than just some final project.

I will not get into the specifics of our long conversation, but I have never been more sure that I need to write this story. The word that I kept hearing and stuck with me was “animals”. Migrants in this country are treated like animals, beaten like animals, abused and looked down upon like animals. Vivian said, “There is no respect for black women here.”

I really think that I have found my calling here in Morocco. Until today, I really didn’t know why I came, other than to somewhat work on my Arabic language. BUT, as the Babe said in the best movie of all time The Sandlot,

“Everybody gets one chance to do something great. Most people never take the chance, either because they’re too scared, or they don’t recognize it when it spits on their shoes.”

I am truly humbled. I am making it my mission to be great, do something good, and learn about myself and my own privilege. As one single, young, African American woman, there is little that I can actually do to prevent what is going on. Despite that, I will use my words and give this story, these women a voice. I can at least do that.

Today was only the beginning, my friends. Stay tuned for so much more. Tomorrow, my classmate, Maya, and I are heading to Casablanca to speak with another migrant activist, and Monday we head back to Taqqadoum. We will meet the women, see the faces, and hear the stories. I am doing what I can to best prepare for it.

Now that I’ve gotten all of my thoughts out, we should backtrack just a wee bit. After all, I can’t leave you all on a somber note!

I am finally in my new house with my roomies, Alex and Libby. It’s the perfect size and mood for the three of us. I love that I am living on my own, cooking and shopping for myself. I’ve made it to the Big League (another baseball joke, fitting for my previous Sandlot quote)!

For those of you who haven’t seen it, here is a little sneak peak (kitchen and other parts not included):

There are pretty much no words that can describe how happy I am in this place. It is peaceful, beautiful and colorful. I will need all of these things for balance with my Independent Study.

After moving in, I spent the afternoon grocery shopping. Words cannot describe the sadness I felt when I realized that not only did I spend less than 10 USD on enough food for the next few days, but also that I will not even be able to find produce of this quality in the United States, even at Whole Foods.

There is just something spiritual about knowing where your food came from, who grew it and that the money you spend goes directly into that person’s wellbeing. I keep saying it, but MOROCCO IS MAGIC, people!

I think that is enough musing for today, yes? Summary for today: Food is great. The Kasbah is great. I am great! Living in Morocco? The jury is still out. In Arabic, we say “nos nos” or “so so”.

Stay well, friends and family. In a mere 37 days, I will be back on American soil.

More soon!

Rae

I’m Baaaack!

October 25

Good Morning from Morocco!

The neglect of the blog has been real, you guys! I concede that both laziness and busy-ness have overcome this traveler; Busy-ness from Arabic and Journalism assignments, and laziness from choosing sleep over WordPress. First and foremost, I apologize for keeping you all waiting for the past week.

Let me catch you up on Raven Gaddy…

Last time I left you, I was still in the Moulay Yacoub province, in the village of Birta in the Sbaa Rouadi Commune in Fes-Boulmane, Morocco. What a mouthful! Anyway, last Friday morning, October 17, we said goodbye to our host families and hopped on the bus back to Rabat. Many of the departures were tearful, but mine was not one of them. I can say I will miss my little sisters, but back to business! It’s a special thing having younger siblings!

After we got on the bus, we realized that most our class was pretty weak from stomach sickness, but a couple of the girls were worse than the rest. We proceeded to spend the morning on the bus waiting, as our coordinator Badr-dad took the girls to the hospital. They had to get shots and IV’s just to make it back home. At the time, I was completely fine, so I enjoyed the quiet time before reaching home in the afternoon.

Once we reached home, I spent the entire weekend in bed. A weird mix of exhaustion and tinge of still unsettled stomach told me that I needed to just relax. Things were going pretty well, until I started eating normally again.

That brings us to this week…

This week has been havoc on my stomach and health. For reasons I can STILL not convey to myself or anyone else, my stomach is a hot mess! Every time I eat, I am accompanied by some sort of pain, discomfort, or worse (I will leave that up to your imaginations because I’m sure you can figure out what I mean).

Things got so bad, that I ended up missing a couple days of school. I needed the rest and got it, but food and I are just not getting along. I scheduled a doctor’s appointment for this past Thursday, October 24, but of course I woke up feeling fantastic that day, so I cancelled.

In the Journalism sector of my life, things are a huge whirlwind. Arabic classes have concluded as of Wednesday, October 23, which is great. I can now focus on the main aspect of my stay here, although I will miss studying this wonderful language formally.

This week, we have preparing as much as possible for next week, which marks the end of our lectures and start of our Independent Study. For five weeks, we will be moving out of our host families’ homes, into our own apartments, and pursuing underreported and deep stories about our new home.

I am still up in the air about what my project will be specifically, but I do know that I am interested in the Subsaharan Migrant women and lack of regard for these people and dehumanization of all migrants by the Moroccan government. These women may be illegal, but do they deserve to be sexually assaulted by members of armed forces? Are they not entitled to pre-natal care, if pregnant?

Heavy stuff, people, but somebody has to talk about it!

On the docket for today…

In about two hours, I have a meeting with my Journalism program director and my Moroccan journalism partner, Khaoula. Boy has she been patient with me! Between my classes, classes of her own, our excursions, and my ever-changing mind, she is a saint!

I am really looking forward to nailing this topic down and focusing in, so I can begin proper research. One of the photographers in my program is coming along. Perhaps he will ask to collaborate? I am not sure, but we shall see.

After that, I am coming home back to my bed. Why, you might ask? My stomach is failing me, ONCE AGAIN. I am coming to terms with the fact that I can no longer really eat Moroccan foods. Bread, water and maybe some tea are my best friends. I anticipate things will be better during Independent Study, as I will be buying my own food and cooking for myself. I will me channeling my inner Denise Collins (my mom) and making some healthy, American comfort foods. Soup anyone?

So, It’s looking like sleep, movies, and constant trips to the bathroom for me today. I have been up since about 5am, wondering why this is happening to me. I really shouldn’t have to spend the majority of my weeks in pain, upset, weak, debilitated and homesick. At least I am learning about myself and how to stay motivated. I have to stay positive that this will all make me stronger in the long run. What else can I do, right? It also doesn’t hurt that despite the ninety percent Moroccan bread diet, I will be coming home rather thin.

That’s it for me today people! I hope you enjoy this post. Next up, I hope to have some good news for you about my health, and some awesome pictures of the new place I will be living. SPOILER: It. Is. DOPE.

Also, tomorrow we head out to our third, and final, excursion! We will be visiting the tourist “Blue” city of Chefchaouen, and two other places, including the Spanish enclave of Ceuta! We will be learning about tourism, economy, migration and more! And technically, I will be able to say I’ve been to Spain after this. It is only overnight until Monday evening, so I will be able to blog and keep you good people in the loop.

Sincerely yours,

Rae

All Good Things Must Come to an End

October 16

Hey Readers,

The village life is coming to a bittersweet end! I am writing to you on my last evening of our village stay. Although I’d like to think that life can be this easy and simple, I must return back to Rabat, then to the states to graduate and move to the next part of my journey. I definitely won’t miss the horrible internet connection and dreaded Turkish squat toilet, but I have learned a lot about myself, privilege and the meaning of hard work. I don’t know what it is about Morocco; All of the places are so different, but I love all of them so much!

Earlier today we visited an association that assists physically and developmentally disabled children between the ages of thirteen and twenty-five. It is the ONLY association in the entire province, so they serve a rather large group of people and are flexible with ages. There is only one licensed doctor under employment and he visits twice per month. Somehow the workers and other staff make the situation work and create a positive environment for kids who are usually forced to stay in the house out of shame. I found the place especially interesting because it was a small staff dealing with many kids from a variety of different backgrounds and disability situations, yet every student seemed to get the attention and care they needed.

Growing up around an association for the disabled, I was very impressed with what these Moroccans have done with a lot fewer resources and the stigma and taboo around disability. I can say for sure that Moroccan people are so inspirational! I wish we could have actually spent time and interacted with the youth, but I enjoyed the opportunity to learn about the place itself.

After lunch, another delicious Cous Cous Tafayah, our schedule changed, as it constantly does, and we headed to what we THOUGHT would be a five-star hamam, or Moroccan bath house. It was horrendous and I refused to go in there. Call me a princess, but when my bucket shower at my village host family’s house looked better than that place, I was through. We won’t talk about it, but I was so glad that I showered the day before.

This evening, Alex and I headed over to see our fellow classmates’, Libby and Frankie. After a short conversation, we set out with their younger host sister and brother and our two youngest host sisters to pick some figs! There are very few words that can describe just how flawless freshly-grown fruit from Morocco is. It was like an adventure or scavenger hunt!

The kids quickly taught us how to distinguish the ripe ones from the ones we should steer clear of, but took the liberty of picking most of them for us to eat. When I was confident that I knew what I was doing, I picked a few for tomorrow’s breakfast and “home” in Rabat.

It was a genuinely amazing end to our last day in rural Morocco! Things got even better when our family asked if we would like ANOTHER shower! YES WE WOULD. After the utter disappointment from the hamam earlier, it was a very nice gesture by our family.

As I am typing about water and bathing, I have realized that I never explained WHY we have not taken the normal liberties, as in Rabat. The village where we are staying is faced with severe water scarcity, with some families, nuclear and extended, or commune, sharing one water spigot. Our family is on the wealthier side, so they have plenty of water, but we came here to observe and adapt to their lives. I can definitely say that I am a lot more aware of my water use since coming to this place.

That’s all for today! All that is left for tonight is some dramatic soap operas, family bonding, and good food! I hope that you’ve enjoyed my village stay (through second-hand account) as much as I have!!

Back to the King’s city in a bit more that twelve hours.

More blogging soon!

Rae

Village People

October 15

Hey people,

I hope I haven’t held you in too much suspense since I last posted. Life in the village is an adjustment, but a good one. I am really feeling like part of the community. The past few days have been eventful and hectic and I will do my best to catch you up.

Monday was the absolute worst. Not much was done that day for Alex and I, as we got food poisoning. I won’t go into detail about the specifics, but I can sum it all up in one simple equation:

(BODILY FUNCTIONS x Both Ends) + Turkish Squat Toilet = NO.

Also on Monday, our group participated in a “Village Talk Back”, discussing issues and concerns with the local men and women on the commune. I really enjoyed getting to know the different personalities of the village, other than our immediate host family. Despite feeling sick, I think Alex and I both enjoyed ourselves.

We slept for the rest of the day, but did wake up to help with more of the house chores and activities. I think our family has unofficially adopted us, as we are often expected to help with cooking, cleaning and other things. I don’t mind; It’s all about the experience.

That morning, I also got to meet our host mom and little sister that were away the first few days. Our host mom’s name is Khadijah and our sister is Zineb. Zineb is five and a half years old, youngest of the six, and probably the most hyper kid you will ever meet. She quickly took a liking to us and has made the stay here twice as fun.

Tuesday was slightly better, although Alex bounced back quicker than I did. I was still in some pain, but we returned to the host association in the morning to play with the children in the kindergarten and preschool that the association runs. It was very overwhelming, but little kids are just great.

We taught them “Duck, Duck, Goose”, played other games, danced and took lots of pictures. Of course the morning was not complete without snacks and tea for everyone. The most comical part of the whole interaction was the fact that the host association hired a DJ, complete with large speakers and other accessories. We were sure if we were playing with small children or at a rager (crazy party, for all of my readers who aren’t savvy to slang).

When we arrived home in the early afternoon, a large plate of Cous Cous Tafayah was waiting for us. I could not refuse such a perfect dish, so I sucked up my stomach pain and ate. We also had it for dinner and I ate it again. Still experiencing some discomfort, but Moroccan food is irresistible.

After a short nap, Alex and I were woken up by our host sister to come help with something that my drowsiness and lack of Darija could not decipher. We were led close to where the animals were kept to our family’s bread oven. It was made of mud and sticks and was simple, yet effective. We spent the afternoon baking rounds for our dinner and playing with Damian the Donkey.

Almost as soon as we finished that, the host sister of some of our classmates came to bring us to see some of our friends. Of course when we got there, we were greeted by about fifteen or twenty people, Moroccan and American. There was more food, a dance party and laughter until the sun went completely down. We were walked home by our neighbors and that was the end of a full day.

Today, not much has really happened. It is almost noon and we were able to sleep in and do some observation of our  family. Before she left for school, I did Zineb’s hair and I truly felt like a big sister. She was very quiet and still, despite me brushing through some tangles.

We also were able to take the first shower since leaving Rabat. Y’all do NOT know just how amazing we feel. Four days and I was starting to feel like a grease ball. THANK THE LORD, I AM CLEAN!

I cannot believe that our time here is almost finished. We leave to go home Friday morning, a bit less than two days. I will really miss this wonderful place.

More soon,

Rae