Mizyan!

Mizyan means "good!" in Darija. I think I have a pretty good grasp of some darija -- mostly adjectives and nouns like "delicious!" and "broken!" and "bathroom" and "fruit".

Today was my first real day of classes. I had Arabic at the Marassa annex of CCCL outside the walls of the medina. After class I talked to the storekeeper who tried to fix my phone, but sadly it was unsuccessful. I had lunch at the main CCCL complex, chatted a bit with the cook, and headed on over to another CCCL annex where we had our lecture with Professor Abdelhay.

We started talking about Morocco in very broad terms so that when we study the human rights and political progresses that have been made, we have a good idea of what the country has seen and done in the past. I had no idea that Morocco was not colonized until 1912 -- pretty impressive considering Spain is just a stone throw's away.

I feel like I left a lot of grey areas that I should fill in since I arrived in Morocco. Great things have been happening!

1) We had our first iftar, or breaking of the fast, Wednesday evening in the main CCCL center. We broke the fast with dates, bread, milk, and lots of sweets. Ibrahim, the jolly chef that works here, brought out a dish to every table called Pastilla. I don't think I have ever tasted anything like it! It is like chicken pot pie with a very sweet filo dough covering. The flavor was absolutely stunning! It was like eating dessert and dinner at the same time.

2) Thursday afternoon we found out about our host families! Here's a picture of me holding up my family's info sheet and anxiously waiting at the CCCL for members of my host family to arrive. I was bursting with excitement if you could not tell!

3) There are cats EVERYWHERE! And they are incredibly tiny and malnourished. It's a bittersweet sight.

Tonight is Laylatul Qadr. The king of Morocco, King Mohammad VI, appears on television this evening to do a special ceremonial prayer. My host mother has lit up these scented ashes and placed them around the house. She explained that this was tradition in laylatul qadr, which roughly translates into "the night of power/fate". This mystical night supposedly is the night in which the skies of heaven open up and virtually every prayer is accepted. The mosques are laden with pious and laymen alike.

Reporting from Rue Taht al Hammam, bonne nuit!

Asil

Insomnia and iPhones

It is Sunday afternoon here in Rabat and I am spending my time reading and jotting down some notes for my independent study project.

My sleep schedule resembles that of a terribly jet-lagged traveler. I prided myself last week when I arrived in Morocco -- I had absolutely no jetlag. I meticulously plotted my sleep schedule on my flights to the country so that when I arrived I did not have to waste time sleeping in.

What goes around, comes around! Because of Ramadan, my host family wakes up at 3:30am to have a small meal of fruit, cheese, bread, and tea to jump-start the fast. We don't go to bed until maybe 1:30am or 2am because dinner is served at midnight (we break the fast with a small meal at 7pm). That said, I have been sleeping intermittedly throughout the day.

Today I woke up at 10:30am and lounged around and read for an hour. I decided I was going to get my phone fixed once and for all (for those of you who haven't heard, I dropped my iPhone in a random bucket of water in a fitting room Wednesday night). I went into the souk and found a modest electronics vendor. The salesman was resistant to try saving my phone once he heard it was dropped in water, but after urging him that it works more often than not, he gave it a whirl.

After about half an hour, he got up off of his chair and motioned for him to follow me. In very hasty Darija (I had to ask for a translation at several points into Lebanese Arabic) he told me he has a friend that could better fix this. We took a 5 minute walk, hiking through very tiny alleyways and parading through markets of vegetables, lingerie, and dates. The only thing going through my mind at this point was the first thing SIT told us at orientation: "Don't follow young men into dark alleyways." Looks like I broke the first rule of studying abroad.

It was midday and there were lots of people around. After squeezing through the last set of shoulders, we arrived at another quaint electronics parts shop. He left it at that and bid adieu. The little boy working with his dad behind the counter handed me a plastic stool to sit on. Thumbing through my French phrasebook in my backpack, I looked up every now and then to check the status of the phone. Customers went in and out. People want the most obscure things for their phone -- a new chain, a forest green backing, a rubber stopper for the headphone jack. Apparently the store had it all. Finally the gentleman told me that the phone needed a program run on it overnight and that I could come back tomorrow to receive it.

Now, my first piece of advice in Morocco was to never trust anyone. But I know myself -- it's pretty difficult to do just that. I said a little prayer, asked a few questions, and surrendered my phone to the stranger. I am not very attached to it anyhow. It's pretty beaten up. We'll see how it goes.

Updates on my adventure tomorrow!

Morocco!

Hello!

My host sisters and I are listening and singing to Train's "Soul Sister" in the study in my Moroccan riad.

Don't fret though -- I know I have left America. I have been in Morocco for almost one week and so far I like it a lot! It is very different. I am having a wonderful time getting to know a very different culture. Although I speak Arabic, there is a serious language barrier between Lebanese Arabic and Moroccan Darija. It has challenged me! I love it!

This week really has been a culture shock.

I had never seen Ramadan in an Islamic country before. After about 9pm, the entire country is out on the streets drinking fresh-squeezed orange juice, buying trinkets and toys, enjoying desserts, or simply walking along the beach.

Here is a picture of my room, Room 108, in Hotel Majestic!

I had the most difficult time getting my luggage from the esteemed Air France. As usual, they held it hostage for a few days. I finally got it back Wednesday night. I took a grand taxi to the airport and back and striked up a fascinating conversation with the driver. He was extremely helpful and gave me a lot of good tips about getting around Rabat.

The day before, I had surmised that I was not getting my luggage back anytime soon so I hit the souk in the evening after iftar to buy a couple of essentials. While I was trying on a pair of jeans in the fitting room, I hear my phone ring. I reach for my bag, take it out, but I was in such a rush (you don't want to miss international calls) that my phone slipped out of hand and landed in a random bucket of water that happened to be sitting in the fitting room. I'm still not sure why.

Anyways! There have been lots of insults and injuries (figuratively) but I am overall having a wonderful time! We stayed in Hotel Majestic on Avenue Hassan II in Rabat until Thursday. I had a wonderful roommate named Alicia from Boulder, Colorado. She and I are besties now! I am looking forward to exploring Morocco with her. Here is a picture of Alicia amazed by my B.O. I blame Air France.

Until next time...bssalama!
Asil

Cowboy Boots

Let me get straight to the point -- I think I am less comfortable leaving the familiar behind than I thought I was.

By all means, don't understand me wrong. I am absolutely psyched about being in Morocco! I cannot wait to be there and see everything and meet new people and learn different dialects of Arabic. What crushes me I think is that this eagerness also doesn't spill over into my daily life as well.

Wherever I am in the world, I feel like I always need to be connected. Nobody really has to be physically present but there is a certain pressure from this globalized society that we are in today to be constantly communicating. Truth be told, I have lapses of isolation when I have no desire of being in touch. But I cannot say those last more than a couple of days.

My goal for Morocco is simple: to challenge myself to slowly let go of everything that is familiar to me. If I succeed, then I think I will have also learned more about myself.

If I fail, does this mean I have a 9-to-5 mentality that I cannot shake off? Is it American culture? Is it the Generation Y? Is it simply me?

I admit that I am attached to many, many things. I will miss much about the lifestyle that I am currently engaged in. Namely -- my cowboy boots.

I feel so secure in them. If I could wear them every day, I would. No matter what the weather, those boots are ready to endure whatever comes their way. The constant plop-plop of the sole make me feel grounded to something. There isn't much of a bounce in the shoe because this is a no-nonsense piece of art. There is something about it that makes me feel , well, happy.

I had made up my mind several weeks ago that I would take my boots with my to Morocco. When I felt like I needed to be home, I would simply pull them out and wear them around in the souks. Sure, I'd get a couple of glances and raised eyebrows, but afterall, I was in my beloved boots. Nobody can hurt me when they are on my feet.

But just now, I have decided to leave them at home, tucked in their box under my mattress. The only thing that I am bringing from home is myself. Everything else may be material but the only thing that can make me feel what I truly want to feel -- renewed -- is simply myself.

So adieu, cowboy boots! We'll catch up in February.

10 Days!

I can't believe it - I'm headed to Morocco in less than two weeks. It won't hit me until I step off the plane. I know myself well.

Anyways, I've been busy cleaning out my room from top to bottom. I consider my room to be in pretty good shape, but to tell you the truth it's just a very well-organized mess. I'm a hoarder, to be honest. I hate throwing away that piece of notebook paper that has a perfect A+ written in red ink at the top commending my good work spelling out words in the 3rd grade. I've finally got over that and threw much of that stuff away this summer.

Anyways, lots of books! Lots of OZ trinkets! Lots of spare change! It's everywhere. My sister is moving in as soon as I head overseas so I'm trying to get it in great shape.

In other news, I'm about 5% (physically) prepared to go to Morocco! -- but 110% mentally prepared so it doesn't matter. I'll toss a couple of shirts and jeans into a suitcase and I could consider myself ready to go.

I know this post made me sound like a slob, but really, I'm not. I just spent an hour polishing the granite countertops downstairs.

Enough materialism :) Carpe diem, everyone!

Home

"Never make your home in a place. Make a home for yourself inside your own head. You'll find what you need to furnish it -- memory, friends you can trust, love of learning, and other such things. That way it will go with you wherever you journey."

The End of the Beginning!

So today was my last day as an intern at the World Affairs Council. It was so strange to leave the place. I am so attached to everything about that office.

In other news, I leave to Morocco on the 28th. I am very excited, but not quite prepared! I have quite a bit of time before I head out but my to-do list is certainly not get any shorter.

Besides this, there is not much else going on. Yesterday was the first day of Ramadan! Ramadan kareem to everyone. I am especially anxious to see the environment in Morocco during the month of Ramadan and Eid. My mom was sharing stories of all the joys of Ramadan when she used to live in Nazareth, Israel.

Until next time...carpe diem!
Asil