Last 100 days #95-#92

#95

French, Spanish, Berber, Arabic, Darija, Ummm..English anyone?

When I first accepted the job I did my HW and knew I was screwed. I would be having a tough time communicating (one of the reasons I really wanted to teach in South America somewhere.)

Until living here, I didn’t know exactly how tough it would be. In Morocco the official spoken language is Darija, which is a dialect of Arabic. The students at school take classical Arabic, which is spoken all across the Middle East, spoken on TV, and written in the newspapers. The little I learned was Darija. From what Youssef tells me if someone spoke to you in classical Arabic you could understand him or her, but not be able to fully communicate unless you studied it.

Darija is not an official written language. It is VERY difficult to pronounce the sounds…and sounds to me like an ‘angry’ language. I do try for Youssef’s family as they get a kick out me speaking it, and making an effort. I usually feel beyond embarrassed, but when I hear them laugh and see them smile it’s totally worth it. For the most part, if Moroccans see you making an effort they really appreciate it. 

The people in the mountains speak Berber, which is another language. They are the original people of Morocco. There are a few tribes but I don’t know how many, maybe three, which each have their own dialect. Youssef’s mom can speak a little Berber, but he cannot. I think I learned all of 2 words in Berber. 

Since the French colonized Morocco, all official documents here are in French, and it is also the main language. Most, if not all of the menus are in French.

Ok, I thought, I have a Spanish base. I will just take French lessons. That was a flop. 

Every time I tried to pronounce the words my tutor would say, “oh, you don’t say those last two letters” or “ch’ is pronounced ‘sh’ in French. Ok, so why do we have these letters if we are not going to say them? Lol

The sounds you make in French come from the back of the throat and my throat doesn’t have that feature. I swear.

SO many times Spanish would automatically came out of my mouth (shocked myself) when in a pinch. In the very north that would have worked, but here in Marrakech…. It did squat. :( 

For the first year I really struggled, especially when recovering from ankle surgery and communicating with doctors.
Meeting Youssef has got me spoiled in that he does all the talking.

He has told me he will teach our baby Moroccan Arabic and French. Uh-oh…I’m not out of the woods. If I want to understand their conversations I better get on board and get my throat fixed!

Coming back to the US knowing more Arabic than French….never, ever would have predicted that! While it was a struggle for most of my time here, and definitely had some days when I shed a few tears over it through frustration, I did have a few laughs…and realize the people here were a lot more patient than I was. For the first time in my life I would be listening more than speaking. That was good thing. At times you do feel left out of conversations but, it was a humbling experience. 

Lessons learned. 

What was comforting was just landing in NY after being out of the country for a full year...Ah...people are speaking MY language!!! It was the strangest thing to notice, but made me feel so at home! 

#94

Sammi and Finster

Having my dogs with me on this experience was incredible. The initial idea bringing them was daunting. Two old poodles on a plane across the continent? Yikes! I am so glad I took the chance. They adjusted so much better than I thought, and have made me feel comforted on days I missed home. Nothing better than one cuddly poodle on your lap and one at your feet. Pet therapy at it’s best! Sammi and Finster have been with me through a lot, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. They have been my sidekicks for 14 years now. 

It is almost time to start preparing them for the flight back. I am once again nervous, as it’s a long flight for these 2 grandpas. Sammi will ride up in the cabin with me and Finster, because he is a bit heavier (only weighs 15 pounds, but can’t weigh more than 10) needs to go down below. Ugh….the thought. 

Since Moroccans are generally not big dog people…I think Sammi and Finster may have changed a few people’s minds. At times I got such a chuckle seeing grown adults jump out of the way when I came around the corner with them. They were seriously petrified! Youssef’s family loved Sammi and Finster and I am so thankful they embraced my extended family the way they did. We were able to have some weekend getaways thanks to his family taking a liking to them, and understanding my attachment to them. Youssef has also REALLY taken to them, and I am forever grateful. 

Time to go home boys…back to Petco for our usual treats and walks in the park. Prayers for a safe uneventful flight, and getting into the country with ease!

Finster 

My Sweet, sweet, Sammi! 

Finster has really taken to Youssef! 

Sammi taking solace by the ocean

Finster taking a camel ride~

All true! 

#93

Tagine

Before I came, I didn’t even know what the word meant.

Tagine, tagine tagine….the staple food in Moroccan cuisine!

Tagine is a North African stew of spiced meat and vegetables prepared by slow cooking in a shallow earthenware-cooking dish with a tall, conical lid. I really enjoyed it when I first came. Month by month, I am sorry to say it grew old. I never really craved it, and would rarely order it when going out to eat. Moroccans LOVE tagine, and Youssef has prepared it for us a few times. I even learned how to make one. 

There are many different types such as chicken and lemon and olives (one of my favorites). They also have beef with almonds and prunes, and also just plain veggies. Tagine is eaten with bread using your hands. But not just any hand! I learned that the hard way. 

Funny story. So…..when I first read my culture shock book before coming here, I did read that you should only eat tagine with the right hand. The left hand is considered your ‘dirty’ hand used for cleaning yourself. Well, after being here for over a year, I forgot about that seemingly simple but important cultural rule.

I was invited to Youssef’s family house for the Eid holiday. Everyone was gathered around the huge tagine dish in the middle of the table, and all of us in our traditional Moroccan clothing. The whole time I am thinking….well I was thinking lots of things. lol

For one, and I am admitting this…I STILL can’t get used to everyone’s hands reaching into the SAME dish! By the way, did I mention the chicken in the middle is NOT cut! It is served whole, with veggies and sauce on the bottom. When it’s time to eat everyone just reaches for some meat and rips it right off the bone! I do have some OCD issues, I am well aware of it…so this was really a test for me to keep smiling while 10 greasy hands were all reaching for food.

The reason for no separate plates? (of course I asked very early after arriving here)

They believe in sharing and consider it a bonding experience…..something like that. A few times while having dinner with his family they tried to get me a separate plate. No! I want to fit in, or at least try, as uncomfortable and awkward as it might be.

So back to the funny story. I was there for Eid….we were all around the table, reaching and grabbing, (btw, there is some etiquette to eating, you only eat from the spot in front you, no reaching to the other side of the dish) so here I was eating from “my” side with the 3 fingers used to grasp the bread and gently rip of some chicken, dip it in the sauce, and try bringing it to my mouth with out spilling it on my gandora dress. After the first what I thought was a successful bite, I felt a slap on my hand! Yes, a slap! It was from Youssef's uncle! OMG….what did I do?

He explained and gestured that I was eating with the wrong hand! Ah!

I was so embarrassed! I wanted to cry. He was only kidding, but did make a point of it in front of everyone. "Ya see, the thing is I am a lefty"...it just came natural to me, I tried to explain. Well, I quickly switched hands and continued the reaching, grabbing, dipping, scooping, and trying not to make mess. 

The art of eating tagine! Another lesson learned. :) 

I decided to try making eggs this way! 

First you buy the veggies...

Then you buy the spices....it's all about the Moroccan spices! 

#93

Here Comes the Sun

One of my favorite things about being here in the city of Marrakech particularly is the weather. The sun is almost always shining! Not only is it shining but also it gives off this warm glow….so calming and peaceful. The days are longer, and almost all the buildings are a reddish color so it really feels special at sunset time with the rays of light bouncing off the buildings. Marrakech is known as the Red City.

Yes, I dare to say warm African sun is definitely different than Long Island sun.

While it does get quite hot here, there is little humidity. This year however we did see more rain than last, and winter seemed much cooler. Ok, ok, it’s not NY cold, but I swear my blood has changed. Suddenly 40 degrees seems rather chilly! By hot I mean up to 110 degrees, and the rays are strong!

With that being said, people dress in long sleeves and pants during the summer, and on a ‘what I call a not that cold kind of day’ they are wearing long coats, hats, scarves, the works!
They over dress all the babies, and now even my husband says he’s cold when it’s like 70! Oh honey….will you survive NY? I’ve never seen his head sweat on the hottest of days! True African blood.

 No photo enhancement on these photos!

 From the roof of my apartment at sunset time....
Atlas mountains in the background.

 Outside my apartment....

 Will be missing the sight of palms....always loved these trees!

Farewell Red City~

#92

Peeing in the hole

So this is not the first country where I have seen this or been in a situation where I needed to make a decision whether I “really” needed to go however…I have never lived in a place where more often than not it was the norm. Hmmmmm….this could be a problem. 

Not only for a female, but an OCD girl at that. They don’t really use toilet paper here either. What they do use is water with a bucket to clean themselves after. I won’t get into details but let’s just say my bladder got a lot stronger living here.
As my husband once told me (in a nice way) when I refused to use the hole ….”I think you are spoiled”…my response was a big fat “YUP” I am. 

There is no negotiating using the hole for #2.

It just won’t happen in this life time!!

Almost 2 years living here...and I loathe everything about it and never got used to it. 

(no pics needed for this one) :)