Debate Night

     Far away from the economic mayhem appearing to engulf the U.S. and send the value of Moroccan currency surging far ahead in value (just kidding), several of us Americans in Fez are in the process of making copious amounts of Tajine and getting ready to cheer on Obama in the debate we always knew would happen.

     Seriously, I don't think McCain fooled anyone.  In any event, we made a run to the huge Wal-Mart-like grocery store "Marjane" just outside the city, and bought all kinds of snacks and such.  This is going to be quite a long night, though, because the debate doesn't start until 1 a.m. our time and won't be finished until 3 a.m.  Plus, I don't live at the Alif residence, so I'm going to be sleeping on the floor.  

     Go Obama.  More thoughts after the debate. 

Class at ALIF

     Class started at ALIF on Wednesday, and it is just about everything I didn't have in the U.S.  There are four people in my class.  My professors are native Arabic speakers, but are also fluent in French and English.  We attend two two-hour classes five days per week, and don't have the bother of other classes, jobs, etc.  Plus, when we leave the ALIF grounds, people are speaking Arabic everywhere we go. 

     Oh, and I'm pretty sure we're using Al-Kitaab (the book used both at OSU and here) the way it was designed to be, because we're intensely focusing on the listening and comprehension sections.  That's part of the benefit you get from being in class 20 hours each week instead of 4. 

     The professors are sweet (not to say those back home weren't).  Our first teacher is this guy who is quite direct in his statements about what you're doing wrong, but equally emphatic with his praise when you do something well.  He and I are kind of on different wavelengths when it comes to explaining things to each other in any language, but I hope we can work that out.

     My second prof is a lady named Tourya who told us on the first day of class that we're her kids first and her students second.  She follows the book less closely but holds conversations with us for about half the class, which is very useful in terms of learning vocab we can use right now. 

     At this point, at least from what I've seen so far, if I don't get as much out of this as I wanted to, it will be either because I didn't work enough in class, or because I didn't try to speak enough Arabic outside of class.  

     Now, a word about ALIF.  There are classes that teach Arabic for those who have never seen the alphabet, all the way up to pretty advanced levels.  Despite the range, the school itself has pretty small enrollment, so the staff is very much able and willing to accomodate concerns about the level of courses its students are in.  So far they haven't mentioned how grades work, and there is a rumor they might be pass/fail.  Our teachers carry with them a quiet determination that we actually learn, so it would not be outside the realm of possibility that grades are in fact pass/fail.  

The Host Family

     I've been living with my host family for a full week now in their apartment/house on the southwest side of Ville Nouvelle.  Their area is more commonly known as Fez City Center, where a very large area of land is in the beginning stages of construction of some pretty expensive apartments, hotels and parks.  Even Ahmed's house (the host brother) is in a sort of seemingly artificial city center, where there are streets but very rarely used as such by cars.  

     It's hard to call where he lives either a house or an apartment.  The closest thing I can compare it to would be the houses in San Francisco that sit wall-to-wall without any space between, but are still individual structures.  My bedroom is on the third of three floors, and just down the hall from me is the rooftop terrace that has a great view of the other houses' fourth floors and their satellite dishes.  

     Ahmed left on Tuesday to visit his brother in Tangiers, so while his parents and I have been sleeping at his house, we've also been spending quite a bit of time at his sister's house much closer to Boulevard Hassan II and ALIF.  His sister is 36 and I'm not sure how old her husband Khaled is, but Khaled and I have been going to a nearby cafe close to every night around 9 after he gets back from the mosque.  I've made friends with his friends (who all seem to be in their 40s).  The cafe is very much a man's place--where you go to smoke, drink coffee, watch soccer, etc.--and I've only seen a woman there once.  Usually the women stay at home and prepare the second meal of the evening, since we eat once at sundown and then once again around 11:30 p.m.

     As you may know, Islam forbids believers from consuming alcohol, and I'm reasonable certain that it is this restriction alone that has prevented and all-out revolt by the female gender--or at least the permission of alcohol that has hastened such a revolt in other (our) culture. 

The Shower

So I've been trying to figure out how to use the bathtub/shower at Ahmed's house.  Here's how I described it to my mom:

So yesterday I took a shower at Ahmed's house..or I tried to, at least.  Imagine this:  there is a bath tub (you know, a regular nice bath tub), which has in it like a 10-15 gallon bucket, and then inside that is a small bowl.  There is a faucet, and connected to that is a shower head on a flexible pipe.  

Well, I tried to turn the little knob that would let water come through the shower head, and the knob came off, and shot cold water everywhere.  Instead of turning the water off, I tried to put the knob back on.  Brilliant, I know.  Anyway, I get that taken care of and still need to decide what to do with this bucket.  My feet are leaving prints on the tub, and as I wasn't sure what the bucket was for or why it had water in it when I first got into the bathroom, I went ahead and emptied the bucket, put some water in it and stood in the bucket itself, so that you wouldn't be able to tell that I stood in the tub, just in case I wasn't supposed to. Not wanting to use too much water, I got my washcloth wet, watered myself down, did the whole soap thing, and then rinsed off as best I could with my washcloth.  Thankfully, the faucet in the sink in the bathroom has a high arch, so I've been washing my hair in that.  Note to self though:  keep my hair short.  I think it could be a real hassle to have shaggy hair.

What Would Martin Love/Hate?

     Let’s play a little game called “What Would Martin Love/Hate” (WWML/H).  For those of you who don’t know who Matt Martin is, he was my roommate freshman year, sports (and movies, and food, and beer) connoisseur, and crotchety grump at-large.  One of the top five smartest people I know, but it seems that he and I disagree on most things.  Anyway, this game might be my favorite thing next to David Letterman’s “Will It Float?” I don’t know how often this will get posted, but Martin loves some things, and hates quite a few, so we’ll see…

This week in WWML/H:

LOVE:  Nut stands—Stop.  Don’t make this dirty.  There are literally food stands in Fez that open up at night (at least during Ramadan) that sell all kinds of nuts and seeds to eat.  They roll newspaper up in the shape of an ice cream cone, only instead of ice cream, you can get peanuts, macadamia nuts, pecans, sunflower seeds, and just about anything else.  And it’s cheap.

HATE:  Faux guides—“False guides” are these guys who wait around at train stations and other high tourist density places, and try to get you to let them carry your bags, get you a taxi, give you a tour, show you a way to your hotel, etc..  They approach you, talk to you, insist on helping you, and expect to be paid.  As Martin would say, “I just want to be left alone.”

Unless you are Matt Martin himself, I encourage you to debate my selections for these posts.  I’m excluding Martin because he’d disagree with me just to be contrary.  Or, if you like, feel free to tell me which of these things you would love/hate, and why Martin would be wrong to feel differently. 

Hooey

     So I promised another post on what I expect to find in Fes.

     Basically, what I'm thinking is this:  A lot of people are full of hooey.  That's right, I said hooey.  Not that Moroccans will be, but that all those guide books that talk about prim and properness all the time.  Yes, this will be Ramadan and everyone will be fasting.  I get that.

     However, younger people (who ware the people I'm going to want to spend the most time with) are a little different from their aged counterparts.  I do expect some people to be more liberal than others, and for those that aren't, I will be treating them respectfully.  

     But I can't believe that young people will be all that different from me.  Sure Americans (and everyone else, as a matter of fact) do things a little differently from what another, but isn't it all rooted in satisfying basic needs anyway?  

     Food, though different, satisfies hunger.  It's just a variance of degree.

     Of course, maybe I'm the one full of hooey. 

Gate C53

     I am literally looking and staring at Gate C53.  It is a yellow sign with black letters.  Not very interesting.  But then again, neither is waiting for a flight. 

     The past week or so has been, though.  Endless list-making, working, and moving all make preparing for a trip all the more complicated--but it does take away the amount of time you feel like you're dithering without getting anything accomplished.

     But the most important things that I've gotten accomplished have happened in the last 48 hours.  The money situation seems squared away.  I've packed a large suitcase, a half suitcase, and a hiking bag.  And I have a game plan:

     1. Go to NYC.

     2. Go to Casablanca.

     3. Buy train ticket/get on train to Fes. 

     4. Get to Fes and find a taxi. 

     5.  Take taxi to Hotel Menzeh Zalagh. 

     6.  Sleep. 

     7.  Go to Arabic Language Center in Fez, and get housing all arranged.

     Small steps, every one of them.  But that's how they need to be taken.  

     And speaking of steps, I've come up with what I think is a pretty decent goal timeframe that I can use to help structure time and set goals:

     1. Day-to-day:  Some things just have to be taken a day at a time--especially if I run into particularly unpleasant smells and who knows what else I'll find (more about this in another post)

     2.  Six-week blocks:  My classes are broken up into six-week blocks.  After each block, I get a week off, and then I start a new class again.  My first class will be Modern Standard Arabic 300, or Chapters 14-20 of Al-Kitaab, for those keeping score at home. 

     3. Nine months:  Gotta have some big goals.  Learning how to cook Moroccan food is one of them.  Maybe working out if I find a gym.  Certainly getting better at playing soccer.  Maybe I'll learn how to play an instrument.  We'll see.