We had our “Morocco in context” course for an hour and a half after our regular four hours of class today, so my brain is not quite functioning at top speed right now. I walked back to the apartment with some friends, which was a nice chance to speak with them, but takes about fourty-five minutes, which meant that by the time we got to the apartment, there was only about thirty minutes to nap before we had to head back to the ALIF center for the free Iftar they were holding tonight.

We were supposed to have two hours, but we learned that taxis don’t run from 7-9 pm during Ramadan, so we had to get to the ALIF about an hour before Iftar just to be safe. I spoke with my taxi driver a bit and learned that he had gone to college and earned a doctorate in geography, but since there were no jobs in geography, he had taken up driving instead. On one hand, it was sad to hear that such an intelligent person was being wasted on such a menial task; on another, smaller hand, it was a little bit funny because I’ve always suspected geography was a rather useless field; and on a third, rather selfish hand, it was rather comforting to know that my driver was a doctor of geography, because that way I new we wouldn’t get lost.

Iftar at ALIF didn’t have quite the variety or quality that Iftar at the homestay does, but it did have some of that weird banana milk (On a side note, the mother of the Emir of the United Arab Emirates is names Mauz, which is Arabic for banana. Mauz might be a pretty-sounding name, but imagine if you met a person named Banana). After eating our food and choking down our banana milk, we made the forty-five-minute urban hike back to the homestay once again. In the words of the illustrious poet Q-Tip, “things go in cycles”.

Today after class, I realized I only had about $2 worth of Dirhams left, which was enough to either get lunch or get a taxi back to my house, but not both. I went to the mall to try an ATM, but my Debit card kept getting rejected, and I didn’t know the PIN for the credit card. I tried to call home, but the banks weren’t open yet (Morocco is five hours ahead), so I went back to the ALIF, and Liz gave me the bread from her lunch (she can’t eat gluten [not sure how she’s still alive, 80% of the food in Morocco is bread] so I get her bread most days actually) which was nice. I got a message from my mom, who had talked to the bank, and it turns out I was doing the ATM wrong the whole time. It turns out when they asked if you were using a savings account or a credit account, you actually had to press the “Neither” option hidden at the bottom… On the bright side, I probably have enough hard currency to get through the rest of the trip now.

While at the mall, I got an email that the newest version of FL Studio (the program I use to compose music on my computer) had come out, and the update was free (shout out to the people at Image Line by the way. It was really refreshing to not have to pay for the latest update to something I had already paid for a couple of years ago) so I attempted to download it at the mall. The mall has the strongest wifi in the city, but it was a really big file, and the mall wifi stops and makes you watch an ad every thirty minutes, and when it stopped, my download would start over, so after an hour of downloading, I gave up with nothing to show for my frustration (I was actually able to read about 50 pages while waiting, so it wasn’t a complete waste).

After Iftar, I had a nice talk with my host mom, and after that I went to the Riad, where I sat down to do my homework and try once again to download the new FL update. The Riad wifi is pretty weak so it took 70 minutes, but I finally got it installed. Now I can rest.

In the Arabic-speaking world, the phrase “inshallah” is something you’ll hear everywhere; my host mom uses it in pretty much every other sentence. It translates roughly to “if God is willing” and is used more like the word “hopefully”. Linguistically, I like it, because it takes the responsibility for the future out of my hands. “Inshallah you will do well on the test” means if I fail, it’s on God, not me. That said, when you ask the taxi driver if he can get you to your location and the reply is “inshallah”, it doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.

Fan is in Casablanca (they named a city after that old movie) this weekend, so there isn’t a whole lot going on inside the apartment. Also, it’s Ramadan, so there isn’t a whole lot going on outside the apartment. This has given me plenty time to reflect on the important questions in life, namely: how should I feel about the new Kanye West album? I’ve probably listened to it five times already, and I’m conflicted. On one hand, his recent public statements and political views seem to have crossed a new line of unacceptability. At the same time, the album contains some really honest takes on mental illness, and to hear that subject discussed so openly in a major hip-hop project feels like a big deal. Plus, the beats are dope.

I did some homework at the Riad this afternoon, and had intended to go to the ALIF film club, but they couldn’t figure out the subtitles and the movie was in French, so I gave up and headed home about five minutes in.

I read for a while, ate Iftar (some sort of beef/lamb dish with a green sweet/sour sauce and French fries tonight), made some flashcards, and read some more. Overall a pretty relaxing, low-stakes day. Which is probably what I needed.

Class starts an hour early on Fridays, and that wasn’t fun. On a brighter note, the quiz wasn’t bad. After class I got lunch and headed down to the French Walmart and finally replaced my shower rag. Now I have a full size, crimson towel. I also bought some green apple Mentos, because that was the closest thing to a sour candy I could find. Some foods here have different flavors to match the middle eastern palette, and it’s kind of weird. For example, when you look at potato chips, the best flavor, barbecue, cannot be found here, but in its place, Lays makes a kebab flavor and Pringles has paprika flavor. I bring this up because today I saw a pack of Mentos with a tree on it, and the label was in French/Arabic with words I didn’t recognize. My friends and I bought a pack to see what tree-flavored Mentos would taste like and it turns out it was black licorice, but to be honest, tree-flavor would have been better.

Fan and a couple other students headed to Casablanca this weekend, so Iftar was a little quieter. There were more French fries today, as well as some sort of fried beef or lamb. On one of the hidden camera shows that plays during Iftar, they pranked a man by pretending to have him get kidnaped and interrogated by gangsters. Two nights ago, they pranked a different man by having him jump out of a plane, and having the skydiving instructor pretend the parachute wasn’t working. America really needs to step up its prank show game.

After Iftar, I met up with some of the graduate students/candidates studying at ALIF at a nearby café. One of them (Liz) is a Doctoral candidate at Madison in the Spanish department and is in my current Arabic class, but the rest I had never met before. Also there was Murad (not sure how he spells it), a Moroccan Masters student who I keep running into at the Riad. Sitting and talking with all of them about their various studies and projects was fascinating.

In traveling to both El Salvador and Morocco this year, I’ve there is a universal language, and it’s none of that cliché bullshit like smiles. It’s soccer (football). Today, Jake, who speaks no Arabic, and our taxi driver, who spoke no English, held a conversation for the entire ride by enthusiastically naming soccer players and nodding. Today was also the first match the Moroccan team played in the World Cup, a thrilling 0-0 match against Ukraine. However, I learned that the entire Moroccan team was fasting during the game, so I feel like we should give them the win.

I finally got my Alif library card today, and I’m pretty excited because I’m lame. They have a decent collection of books in English, French, and Arabic, a couple of Arabic films, and a very impression collection of American movies.

There’s a stereotype in the US that Arabic is a scary-sounding language, and I think that stems from the fact that the only time you really hear Arabic on television is in terrorist hostage videos. Today my host mom’s friend came over to gossip in rapid-fire darija for an hour and a half, and without understanding a word of what was happening, this was the funniest conversation I’ve ever listened in on. The throat vocalizations mixed with thick consonant clusters really add an extra layer of emotion and intensity to even the most mundane subjects. I was trying not to laugh out loud listening to them in the next room over.

Iftar had French fries tonight, which I’m pretty sure is not a traditional Ramadan food.

There was supposed to be a calligraphy class at the riad tonight, but there wasn’t. I’m wondering if I read the flyer wrong.

Class is an hour earlier tomorrow, and there’s a quiz (I’m not worried about it, but still…), so I’m going to cut this one short tonight. I’ll be back.

Another long day of class. Four hours of Arabic a day is certainly helpful (I can tell I’m getting better already), but it’s exhausting. Luckily, in part because there’s nothing else to do, Ramadan has a rich culture of long daytime naps. Alhamdulillah.

Iftar included some sort of green, spiny vegetable that tasted like bitter artichokes. I’ve never seen one in the U.S., and my host mom didn’t know the English name, so it will remain forever a mystery. It also included a very tasty lamb dish. I haven’t eaten mammals in eight years though (I’m resuming temporary so as not to be a hassle to the host family), so we’ll see how my stomach holds up…

Also during iftar, my cinnamon-rice-chimichanga started to slide towards the tajiin sauce while I wasn’t paying attention, and my host mom reached across the table to stop my foods from touching for me, so I think I may have found my real mother.

Tonight, the ALIF Riad had a group of Sufi musicians from Granada playing traditional music (Sufism is kind of like hippy Islam). It was a very interesting blend of middle eastern and Spanish styles, and the guitarist in particular was very talented. The musicians were supposed to start at 9:30, so I arrived at 9:20, giving myself a little extra time to update my blog on the riad wifi. When I arrived, however, I was the only person in the whole building. There were about a hundred empty chairs around me, and I started to worry that the musicians would be offended that no one came to see them. Then, at 9:40, ten minutes after the event was supposed to start, people began to arrive. By 9:50, it was standing room only. The musicians began at 10. It seems I have a lot to learn about time in Morocco.

As a sat down to write, my host mom began telling me about the world religious music festival that takes place in Fez every summer. It’s the largest festival of religious music in the world and it will be happening while I am here. She called it “Sacrifice Music”. I’m really hoping she meant “Sacred”. Or maybe the death metal scene in Fes is bigger than I thought.

Because I love you all very much, I’m attaching a short story from 1001 Arabian Nights (the book of Arab folktales that includes Aladdin, Ali Baba and the 40 Thieves, and Sinbad the Sailor) that I found in the library a couple of days ago. It’s called The Historic Fart. I can only hope this story brings you as much wisdom and insight as it brought me.

 

Today was the first day of our Morocco in Context course, which is ostensibly about Moroccan history, but to be honest, could probably end up being about nearly anything. The lecture itself was very interesting, but the room was made entirely of marble and other students were quite talkative, so at times it was hard to hear. Hopefully something will change on that front.

For lunch I had more of the beans and today ordered the lemon juice instead of the “milkshake”, but it turns out the lemon juice was actually orange juice. I’m not complaining, because orange juice is still good, but someone needs to fix this menu.

I’ve been starting to notice cliques and divisions arising within our group, and I don’t know what to do (I personally don’t think anything can be done), but I hope things don’t continue down this path. I have no problems with all but one of the students in our group, and I don’t wasn’t to have to split time between two cliques to see everyone. Plus, this makes weekend traveling harder. If we don’t all travel together (and it sounds like people don’t want to), it means I must either attach myself to one of the groups or travel alone, and while traveling alone would probably be best for my Arabic, I’d rather not. That said,  I also don’t want to pick sides. Hopefully this all shakes out alright.

Although taxi’s in Fes are metered, some drivers will try to make up their own prices when dealing with people who are clearly foreigners. Today, the driver tried to charge Fan and I 20 dirham for an 8 dirham ride. I gave him a 10 (I didn’t have the change for 8), and when he insisted on 20, I got out of the cab. I considered that an adequate solution, however Fan was a little more shaken and suggested we call the police. Over 12 dirham. That’s $1.26.

Iftar included “cow foot” tonight, but everyone else ate it up before I had a chance to try it (oh no…).

When I bought my towel at the French Walmart the other day, I made the mistake of buying a white one that was half size. On the surface, there are no problems with that, but I think someone mistook it for a rag, because today it has a bunch of neon pink stains on it, as if someone used it to clean up something that spilled. Luckily, it cost about $2. Tomorrow I will be purchasing a full length, colored towel.

 

The moment I sat up in bed this morning, Fan passed me his phone, which was opened to a Chinese-to-English translator with the words “to have diarrhea” written in it. I got the picture and took his homework to class for him.

The teacher who looks like my grandpa got a haircut over the weekend, so he doesn’t look as quite as similar now, I’ll still try to get a picture tomorrow.

At the ALIF Center, they have started serving lunch, which is great because I was getting tired of choosing between McDonalds, Burger King, and Pizza Hut. Today I ordered a banana milkshake and received a glass of lukewarm milk with a banana blended into it. It’s in moments like these that I miss Wisconsin. That said, the menu also has an apple milkshake and an avocado milkshake, so I guess it could have been worse. Luckily, I also ordered beans, which turned out to be very tasty, and, since this is Morocco, the order of beans also came with three pieces of bread, so I did not go hungry.

Iftar today had a dish which my host mom called an omelet, but which was definitely an egg-bake. Also, it had more potato than egg, so maybe it was a potato-bake. Nonetheless, it was very good.

After Iftar, I met two other students at the ALIF Riad and we began planning some trips for our weekends. The hope is that next weekend, we can visit the Barbary Macaque sanctuary (the barbary macaque is a large monkey found only in Morocco) and during our four-day-weekend in June, we can head to Tangier. During this weekend, I may also take a ferry across the straight of Gibraltar to Spain; I’ve already reached out to my friend Pablo to see it he would want to meet up. I still need to plan excursions to Marrakesh (the largest city in Morocco) and Chefchaouen (the blue city [look up pictures, it’s beautiful]).