tangier!

So a couple friends and I went to Tangier a few weekends ago for the Tanjazz festival. We took the five hour train north, wandered around the city a lot, and at night we went to the 'festival' which was actually one stage is a kind of sketchy parking lot where a band played some really fun music that was more a cross between techno and Irish folk music..but it was awesome because all these local kids started busting out in break dancing circles...so fun. great times. Tangier is a fun place, but you definitely don't need more than a weekend there. Beautiful Mediterranean waters, good food, etc. loved it. Checking in at the hotel was a fun picture: me, with my U.S. passport, Tulsi with her Indian one, and Angela with her Australian one. How did we find each other? Morocco.

lovers stand and dream
what is on the other side?
east, west, north, and south

send me a post card
three-by-five piece of the past
what is your message?

spanish influence
and a swedish utensil
we are connected

more of fez.

"this is what you call agave. in mexico they make tequila out of it. but not here"

tanneries. leather, much?

i should be doing homework.

Today was one of those days where
you try with all of your might to keep tears in, but they squeeze out anyway and your face gets all contorted and you try to hide it behind your scarf
you give up stepping over the puddles in the street because you're soaked and your shoes are ruined already
you wish you had your mom and your best friend and a cup of good earth tea and a pint of ben and jerry's
you want to scream at your host sister even though it's not her fault or your fault that you can't communicate with one another
your western desire to do things on your own causes you to pull away from others who are trying to help (even if they are a little pushy and bossy
you don't know where you are or why you are there, you just want to leave
you get home and take a deep breath and realize all the frustration and discomfort are worth it in the end. because this is life and it's an adventure and you are here to learn from others.


(all this to say...moroccan weddings are crazy)
we were up until 4 am last night. i slept in a stranger's house, again. i ate a ton of food, again.
nobody really talked to me much, because my sister did the talking for me.
moroccans play their music at an eleven on the volume scale
the bride has not 1, but 5 wedding dresses
and only the women sit inside the canopy/wedding area...the guys sit inside the house...
why? i don't know.

i promise that i will eventually tell you about my village stay...
until then, talk to scottie callish or emi samuelstuen.

gotta love the language barrier

Apparently “we’re going to go get henna at 3” really means:
We’re going to hang out at the house with some people and put on makeup until about 4, then take a 30 minute bus ride to Sale, and then (I think) attend the equivalent of a Moroccan bachelorette party where we will get henna, watch the bride-to-be get henna, dance, listen to really loud music, and eat a ton of food with a bunch of other women that you don’t know. Then we will sleep there and wake up at 6:30 am to go back to Rabat.

And apparently “we’re going to go get you a kaftan (moroccan dress) really means:
We’re going to go home long enough to eat and change our clothes, then we’re going to take another bus to Sale and visit a bunch of people’s houses/wander the streets until we find some places to rent a kaftan, and then take a taxi home to eat couscous because it's friday.

p.s. i told my sister once again that i don't understand french, and to speak arabic to me...so, now every time i meet someone new this is what she says (in arabic) "she's american...she doesn't know french, only english and a little arabic. no, no french"

more stories later, right now my life is occupied by moroccan nuptials.

Back in the city.

I am back in Rabat after spending a week in a rural village by the name of Loutichina (Land of Drought)
The transition is interesting, and I am impressed with how quickly my body finds the shower, my mouth finds the coffee, and my hands find my keyboard.
I was home for literally five minutes when I found out these things:
Our dog had puppies. Five. FIVE PUPPIES. They live on the roof
Today, Thursday, I am going with my family to get henna, because
Tomorrow, Friday, We are going to my father’s sister’s daughter’s wedding in Sale, Rabat’s sister city. There will be food and music zwina, and because of this, I
Need to buy a kaftan/moroccan dress, thus
This weekend is going to be crazy.

But other than that, here are some other things before I tell you the story of the village in a separate blog and then post pictures and another blog. And then I will tell you about my weekend in Tangier from awhile ago.
Wakha? Mezyan?

Compare and contrast the city and the village
Both smell of smoke- one is the camp-firey smell of twigs and pine cones, one is of cigarettes and exhaust
Both have a lot of waste on the ground- one is the natural, organic waste of animals (including people), the other is plastic bags, chicken feathers, paper, etc.
In both places you are never hungry.
In both places toilet paper is scarce.

pics. of fez. and volubilis.

winding streets. old buildings. markets. tanneries. ancient ruins. places of worship. extravagance. simplicity. special occasions. daily life. all of these things:

this is my happy place.

you and me,

in miss augustine greene's mansion.

sitting in the library upstairs. us taking turns reading aloud. the chronicles of narnia, the last battle.

there is vanilla incense burning and joel p. west playing.

we had egg sandwiches for lunch, with carrots and hummus.
we finished with abuelita

our bikes are parked outside, with no locks because there is no need.

next destination: caffe italia, for esplatto. with mint chip gelato.

this is my happy place.