Some notes about home

It is kind of cool and frustrating that almost every day in Rabat I must walk through the souks (marketplaces) and rue Mohammed V. I've said that if I were blindfolded, I could easily tell if I were in the medina or in the Ville Nouvelle just by the smell. The medina smells like bread (even the smallest stores sell wheels of "choubs"), spices, and trash (trash cans sit out in the middle of large avenues). Walking down "souk road" on rue Souika, you'll pass hamsters, animal carcasses, juice stands selling delicious fresh-squeezed juice, fake DVD stores, electronics stores, leather goods, crafts made of cedar, and much more. You shouldn't walk down this street if you're in a rush! I can smell the souk now even though I'm miles away.

My host family's TV is always on while I am awake, even if there is no one in the room. I want to get out and explore Rabat, but because my family rarely leaves the house, I feel like I treat them like a hotel. Only when my English-speaking host sister, Fatiha, is home (late, after night school) is there ever a chance of seeing something with English. There's no clock in the TV room, so I've learned to tell time based on what TV show is plahying. There's the Spanish soap opera "Margarita", the 8:45 French news report (which usually means dinner will start cooking soon), a comedy about this child with a horrible unibrow, and of course, dubbed Jackie Chan movies (Youssef's favorite). I find that watching TV for so long in a language I don't know gives me plenty of time to think/daydream. Maroc Telecom (phone/internet company) is the biggest advertiser on billboards and on TV. I was thrilled when I learned enough Arabic to understand what those commercials are saying!

I went to the hammam last week, which is like a Turkish bath. I was a little nervous, but you quickly lose all shame when everyone else is naked too. It is so crazy to see how covered women have to be on the streets, but once they are separated from men in the hammam, they make a social ritual out of shedding their clothes with their friends. Makes me wonder what culture is actually the most modest. I found the same thing when I tried a belly-dancing class. The teacher pulled a curtain across the studio so men couldn't see in, and then the women stripped to "economical" and flashy outfits. They seemed much more at ease when they were with their friends in this safe zone. Anyway, back to the hammam...

You go through this series of 3 different rooms of increasing temperature and there are certain activities that are supposed to happen in each room. I went with friends instead of with my host family because my family goes when I'm in class. Therefore, I didn't know what was supposed to happen in each room. You fill up buckets, lather with a black, oily soap, rinse with buckets, use a mitt to scrub off all your dead and dirty skin, lather with your own soap, rinse, shave, and finally shampoo. I have to say, I understand now why Moroccans don't shower that often! My skin felt so clean and different after the hammam.

My cousins and I saw a husky on the street the other week. What was more amazing than seeing a husky in Morocco was seeing the hordes of men with cameras and cell phones swarming around the strange creature!