I think I’ve figured out why so many western Christians are afraid of Islam: it makes them feel inadequate. You go to church every week? Miriam gets up at sunrise to pray every day, and then prays four more times as the day passes. You gave up chocolate for Lent? Ahmed gave up eating, drinking, smoking, and sex for Ramadan. You know your favorite Bible verse by heart? Private universities here require students to memorize the entire Koran to be considered for admission. Christians need to step their game up; the Muslims are praying circles around you.
I beat the traveler’s diarrhea, which means I can now eat anything I want without fear of uncontrolled shitting. The world is my oyster stew. This probably has something to do with the fact that I slept 12 or 13 hours last night, after having taken a 4-hour nap yesterday afternoon, which felt great. I am becoming part cat. Soon, I too will live on the streets of Fez.
There were no classes today, but there also wasn’t anything to do in the city because everything is still closed for Ramadan, so Fan and I went to the Alif Riad to get out of the apartment for a bit. We got some homework done and hung out for a while, then returned home to nap again.
Our host mom did our laundry today, which was very nice of her. The preparatory materials said that Moroccans typically only do laundry every two-to-three weeks, so I brought enough clothes to last for three weeks if necessary. Fan didn’t read the preparatory materials, so he brought four white shirts. Luckily, our family owns a washing machine; Fan and I bought detergent on Friday to cover the cost.
Iftar had fried chicken tonight, which was seasoned to taste just like the soup we eat every night. There was also some weird vegetable that looked like a pickle-sized eggplant and tasted sour eggs with hot sauce. I was not a fan. Also, the hidden camera show that plays during dinner had a “prank” where they trapped a woman inside a zoo exhibit with two tigers. The show was in Darija, so I couldn’t understand what was being said, but I’m pretty sure there was nothing stopping those tigers from eating the woman except the camera crew.
Tonight, it rained for the first time since I’ve arrived, and the sound was unlike anything I’ve heard. As best I can tell, it was a fairly mild thunderstorm, but the Medina is made up of three-story-tall, stone, flat-faced, conjoined buildings with only five-to-ten-foot wide streets. A single lightning strike can echo for thirty seconds. It took me a second to realize that we weren’t in the middle of some sort of Sharknado, but after I realized what was happening, it was actually pretty soothing.
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