I probably could have let the good times kill me

On the very last day, I think it was even harder to leave then it had been to come, or to stay. Of course everyone says that in the end -- of course no one thinks in the beginning that it's going to be the experience of a lifetime. But then it is. The tricky thing for me was that I didn't know until the very very end -- I didn't even have the luxury of finally 'getting it' in the middle. But then. To get it at all is something.

I suppose the end to any story should somehow poetically reflect on change. But I think there would be too much to say, so for now I only have some lists. Lists made on trains over the months, because nothing is expected of you when you are on a train so I spent as much time on them as I could have in the beginning, and in the middle. It doesn't promise to be the most exciting read....


List #1, 4Nov06 : Favorite things which occurred during the trip to the beach (in no particular order, though perhaps needing to be ranked). Mostly for Shifa.

- the guy who translated the word 'bread' for us
- the realization that Morocco is indeed a <>
- the train itself, which stopped entirely on the way back to Fes
- escaping man, running down the street frantically
- "Life, or Something Like It"
- les petites filles charmeuses
- Shifa eating in the police station
- perfect Casa day
- the man who spat on me
- red-lipped woman pearing through the papered-up breakfast window
- being yelled at in the sweet shop for indulging during Ramadan
- having no idea where to sit in McDonalds?
- 910dh jeans with suspenders (impossible!)
- Hotel Gallia = African migrant favorite
- Cathedrale Sacre Coeur
- El-Jedida: How Far Will You Go?
- everyone rushing first class at 1am
- skinned chicken breast and our romantic meal
- the Japanese Embassy in Rabat

Realizations Vol. 1, 5Nov06:
1. There is sudoku in Morocco, with Latin numbers and everything. As though I didn't feel challenged enough in this country.
2. I could have died on the way to Spain -- but I didn't.

Paris - Day 2, 10Nov06:
All you really need is someone to hold you, and a good pair of shoes.
Paris - Day 4, 12Nov06:
I got 2 pairs of boots! When I only asked for one. So I compensate. I call that perspective.
Paris - Day 5, 13Nov06:
I have never been on a plane and felt as though I were actually moving backwards instead of forwards. Until now.

Thanksgiving06! Things that I was thankful for:
1. what is left of my sanity
2. the people who love me and who i love
3. the people who like me and who i like
4. my autonomy
5. being 100% funded in Morocco
6. the development of my french-speaking skills
7. tea/chocolate/cheese/spinach
8. my giant brain
9. Ani DiFranco
10. my TFA assignment
11. peach-colored roses
12. the Eiffel Tower
13. Kimberleigh Darden
14. star-filled skies
15. crabcakes and burritos
16. laughing until I nearly pee myself
17. socks/sock-puppets

Things to remember about the apartment, 2Dec06 Apartment number 1, Rabat:
1. Bab Oudaya, 2 rights, OJ man, 1 left, Apt. 3, tan door
2. Strange, counterintuitive lock
3. turn gas off when not using. hot water heater: click several times and let warm up. do not burn face.
4. key to balco on shelf by roof
5. La Belle Vie = like Marjane but smaller
6. Sunday mass at the cathedral, 11am and 9am. in french. in english every other saturday (?)

Theories on chivalry in Morocco, 10Dec06:
1. Is dead
2. Never existed
3. Is making a comeback

Baltimore, 13Dec06:
some poorly written thoughts on the Greatest City in America:
silent, still, cold in Montgomery Park
a beggar with no competition
one sole tune echoing through Hyde Park, over bridges only sounds are brave enough to traverse
why does steam always pour out of sewer caps?
and, why don't they include loneliness in the program description?


(interlude lists)


Words to know for sure, 12Jan07:
unabashed
parsimonious
pernicious
insouciant


(inappropriate list)



Fear list, 16Fev07:
I've been afraid of
- being seen
-being limited

things I love, 17Fev07:
rainy days
the smell of central heating right after you turn it on
train rides
long sleeves with long enough cuffs
helping strangers without talking to them


(sympo lists)


in between list, 22Mar07:
- sympo is over
- shifa is visiting
- lots of other things that i'm not ready to confess in writing

dreams i've had, 2Avr07:
1. my mother flies on planes, my biological father has died at least twice. my mother's face: so close, glosemeyer earlobes, indifferent expressions, blazer jacket
2. i couldn't even TRY ON a skirt suit, much less make it my uniform!

Friends, 10Avr07:
shouldn't make you want to drink
i wish,
1. you'd stop imposing
2. i could ask you to stop imposing

Things that Latifa Jbabdi said, 13Avr07:
"I am considered a leftist radical"
"I know that we are being manipulated by Zionists"
"We are a movement based in liberty and equality, we are a movement in danger in Morocco"

words that mainly served to distract me from meaning and translation: force of nature, strong force, forcement, fonde, fourchette, for you, for me, fournard, forming, fur-lined, furnance, forcement, fortement, facon, facile, des femmes, focus, fin, faudrait, faite, fate, faith.

things i love part deux, 11Mai07:
hot days, roadtrips, western toilets, police bribes, top-spots, doors the lock, milkshakes,
falling in love in different cities

jfk list, 16Jun07:
- pores are smaller here
- sandwiches will cost at least 8 dollars for the rest of time
- children the size of suitcases have personal cell phones
- everyone reads over everyone else's shoulders



So. It's all I've got, mostly because I've had no time to process anything, the perks of having an actual job I guess. Look out for the new blog, hoping to be more frequently updated.

Fin!

Why I Never Update My Blog

Lots of reasons, perhaps.
I'm busy? Nothing interesting ever happens to me? I don't take pictures of anything? I write all my best ideas down in my journal? I yawn all my worst ones out?

The first two reasons are mostly false, life has been a little slow but generally wonderful and fun-packed. Just got back from Tunisia, and it was a great experience but it's no Morocco. But I'm biased, of course. Would post pictures but I'm afraid I haven't got any truly beautiful ones -- if there exists a desire amongst any of you to see pictures, do let me know.

The main push towards me posting is the existence of the Google Analytical Tool, thanks to Shifa. Who I think thanks Rachel? Don't mean to get this one incorrect.

Thanks Google? Eesh.

This is why I don't post: None of it makes sense.

sympo is over!

sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!sympo is over!


sympo is over! congratulations to my fellow fulbrighters -- you all did such a great great job and it was wonderful to see you all!

my apologies...

... to all of my loyal readers. I know there are at least 2 of you out there? Truly sorry for not updating in many weeks. Life happened.

So, I moved into a ridiculously beautiful new house and I encourage each and every one of you to visit and to spend some time watching the waves roll in from our balcony (because we can do that here!) The moving process took a bit longer than anticipated but in the end it is worth all of the effort (and cost) put into the Zween Beach Dar.

Other than moving, I am afraid I have no real updates. Our commission here in Morocco hosts a symposium for all of us lucky Fulbrighters in which we present our work done thus far and outline goals for the future, etc. It should be interesting to see how everyone's projects are coming along. I'm a tad nervous about my presentation but mostly because public speaking is only sometimes my favorite, and my history of public speaking in Morocco (which may be chronicled as one instance) leaves something to be desired. Nevertheless. I suppose, however, that I would be better off if I used my time to work on my paper instead of blogging. Ah, procrastination.

Pictures of the new ZBD to come.

update!update!

I've been neglecting my poor little blog... The past few weeks have been pretty exciting --

I have a brand new gig. Three-ish days a week, flexible hours, very wonderful sweet people. I will be working on a project to support/train women MPs, though currently it's a load of busy work. This doesn't excite me but I am trying to be optimistic. I had a dream the other night that I became a RightWingDemocracyMonster. Eesh.

Reseaarrrccchhh is coming along quite well. So far I've talked to a few NGO leaders/representatives who say they are doing significant work in implementing the family code reform and informing Moroccan women of their rights. One woman told me: "It's fallen on our shoulders!" Heavy load.... I suppose this is where governmental accountability might come in handy? Interestingly, I had the occasion to speak with a group of Moroccan women over the weekend who told me that they had never been approached by a women's group and couldn't even name one. Yeouch. Hopefully I'll get some happier answers as I continue talking to people...

I also started re-taking derija classes. They are going well except for the bossy Romanian man who thinks I say "Washington DC" with an American accent. Shouma! Pronouncing American cities with American accents in Arabic class! How daaare I? His arabic, by the way, is perrrfecccttt, of course (do blogs correctly relay saracasm?)

I'll sign off before bitterness sets in. More soon!

Linge

My sweet landlord just came over to remind me to take my laundry off of the line on the roof (he can see it from the street).

I asked him: Is it raining?
He said: No, but it's been 2 days!
And I said: Ah, yes. But its not dry.
And he said: But its been 2 days!
And I said: I knowww but its not dry!
And he said: Go try, it's been 2 days.
And I said: I was just up there 10 minutes ago, its not dry.
And he said: Really? Its been 2 days
And I said: Yes, i know. But its no problem. It will dry soon
And he said: Yes, after all, it's been 2 days.

Lion CITY!

Ah, Morocco. How fab'.

I went to go pick up my business cards today, about a week after putting the order in. No hurry, though I suppose -- it's not like I've met anyone to give one to yet. The papercopycard shop got a new printer! Hurrah! But my cards won't be done until tomorrow morning, whadda draaaggg.

To make myself feel better I wandered about the medina with the intention of buying a pretty mirror. No luck, though I did meet one man who was willing to sell me a mirror *from his home* and another man who had somehow managed to sever his big toe (quite badly I think, but he looked bandaged and clean, I think he will be alright) and had decided to take up smoking 'garros' in order to dull the pain.

I've also just bought a dress, or maybe it's a smock? It is yellow and turquoise and a little bit hideous and has pictures of lions all over it, with the caption: Lion City. I have no idea what this means. I think I've heard Singapore referred to as The Lion City? This could be entirely false. Nevertheless, this is a wonderful dress and I managed to acquire it for about 8 U.S. dollars and I plan on wearing it far too often.

Other updates: I may have found a gym (no treadmills, but there are aerobics classes -- my new fav); there are a TON of random Asian tourists in the Oudayas today (I love tourists, I always want to ask them how the hell they decided to come here); and there is a very very obviously intoxicated man swaggering around the neighborhood, screaming, and trying to sell off two very large swinging-chandalier-type lamps.

It's a good day.

Seriously?

So, I tried very hard (perhaps in vain) to get out and take some pictures of Rabat, because I have no pictures of Rabat yet. I was ready and armed: camera, very large jacket, scarf and hat! And off I went, through the blue streets of the Oudayas and towards the ocean. There is a very good view of the sea just minutes from where I live, so I stopped to reflect and to watch the crazy man who was surfing in January.

Now, I have gotten quite used to the cat-calls and the pick-up lines and the pester-y men who somehow feel as though it is alright to bother every woman they see (regardless of nationality) on the street. So when Mr. CreepFace first approached me, I thought nothing of it and acted as though I couldn't hear him, I pretended to be lost in the beauty and the magic of the crashing waves, I imagined him falling helplessly into the ocean, yaddayaddayadda. CreepFace (let's take off the polite salutation, as you will soon learn that he does not deserve such recognition) like some men in this country, was relentless. (By the way, my absolute favorite relentless-tactic that these men use is the no-fail "Say the Word 'Beautiful' or the Words: 'How are You?' In Every Language You Know, Until Her Face Glimmers Some Sort of Recognition" routine. 'A' for Effort? They wish...) CreepFace was basically impossible to ignore. I gave him a curt and emotionless: "Ca va" lacking in intonation, hoping that this would give him no reason to respond. Of course he responded (of course!) and started in on the questions.

"Whoareyouwhereareyoufromwhatdoyouspeakwhyareyouhere?" I answered his questions politely, figuring that:

1. He didn't look like a total whackjob;
2. He may be entirely harmless and just looking for a conversation and;
3. I could beat him up if I needed to.

So, this "harmless" gentleman and I engaged in basic no-frills conversation in a melange of french and arabic and I scolded myself for being so cynical. And at that moment, CreepFace felt it "necessary" to "inform me" that quite often Moroccan women engage in sexual relations with several men during the same period of time (4 or 5!), and that no one takes any of this "sex-stuff" really seriously, and that even I could pursue the same sorts of relationships in MY life! Quelle idee! What an enlightening man, except for the obvious facts that 1. THIS IS NOT TRUE, and; 2. even if it were true, I AM NOT NOT NOT INTERESTED! I told him such and he told me "Not To Worry" and that I could of course have loads and loads of sex in Morocco and he wouldn't think of me as a "prostitute" at all! "Seriously?" I sarcastically asked, right before telling him: "I am almost certain you are lying." And I made it very clear that I really really was not interested and that I was engaged to an American man (sometimes, one must lie). This seemed to shut him up, and we stood there awkwardly while I thought about escape scenarios.

And then, ever the relentless bastard, he asked me if I wanted to go dancing with him sometime (I said 'no') and then he apologized for being so forward. I half-smiled and rolled my eyes and he started blabbing away in quick arabic. I couldn't understand what he was saying exactly, but I picked up on: Casablanca, the verb for "to go" in the second person feminine, and the words: 'with', 'me', 'train' and 'now'. Schnou??? I asked him what in the world he was talking about and he explained in french that I should really go with him to Casa on the train, that afternoon. He said he would go get some coffee, come back and pick me up and off we would run... I said "No, thank you, that's impossible" and he leaned in and told me (in as far as I can translate): "But you must." That was the moment that I finally cracked and explained to him that he would be best off leaving me alone and going away. I even used some very nice english terminology, the kind of words that I was lucky enough to pick up from my lovely tutees in inner-city Baltimore (ahh, Home Sweet Home) and CreepFace sulked away looking shocked. I win! Sort of.

Anyway. Another day in Morocco, featuring one more awkward experience resulting in me being disgusted and angered. Some days are perfectly lovely, and then days like today happen, but I take comfort in knowing that I can handle them.

I do wish I could have taken more photos to share than the measly three below, but at least they come with a story.










Some houses in the neigborhood



















The view of the beach!












The lone January surfer, crushed under the waves. I feel ya, buddy.

"What does it mean abroad: the sea, the land, the sky, the moon, or Mercury?"

(-- Naima El Ouassouli, on the disappearance of her brother by Moroccan authorities)

And here I am. The past week has been near impossible and I'm glad to have gotten through it. I've got a (basic) research design, some (preliminary) contacts, and an abundance of resources. Half of my challenge is going to be translating documents from French, and translating a survey into French and Arabic -- insha allah, I'll find help.

Despite living alone, I've managed to keep myself fed, clean, and exercised -- quite the feat! Surprising to hear, I'm not the most socially apt individual (I might border on awkward, and I'm pretty sure this translates into every language) but I persevere! I've realized that I need to commit my whole heart to this project for the next few months, and a part of me is even looking forward to it.

Also. Perks of living in the Oudaya:
1. There is a man around the corner who sells fresh, hot (skooooohn!) bread, right off the fire-y rocks, for just one dirham. I don't see reason to eat anything else.
2. The beach, of course.
3. American/Fulbright neighbors! Hooray!

A fresh start

First of all, my apologies for having taken so long to update. The past month has been wonderful, I had a chance to visit home and those who I love so much. Like anything, it's had it's ups and downs, but from here on out I am going on faith alone to ensure that the following five months will be productive ones from both a personal and an academic standpoint.

I've just moved into a new apartment in Rabat which I will be sharing with another wonderful and charming Fulbrighter once she returns from her travels. The apartment is in an area of Rabat called the Oudaya (here is the first link that came up when I Googled my new 'hood, the text is in French, but if you can't understand it you can at least get a gist from the photos, etc: http://www.rabat-maroc.net/oudaias/les%20oudaias.htm ) It's a gorgeous place to live, really and truly. I am about a 2 minute walk from the beach, and the neighborhood is busy and bustling. Friends and family: VISIT!




In my new room...



The nutty spiral staircase



Another view from the staircase to the balcony



My room again, with the door and shutters opened



My 'closet' (it's a bar above my bed, haha)



My desk!



View looking into the salon



View from the balcony



Another view from the balcony... beautiful