The internet cafe that I normally use is about a 2 minute walk from my house. It's a tiny convenience shop, about 10 x 15 ft with a teeny loft and miniscule spiral staircase (not even close to legal in the US) and about 6 computers. You can buy soda, candy, hot sauce, water, make a phone call or print a file (for an exhorbitant 5 dh a page - the one thing that's more expensive than the US).
The woman who runs it is extremely nice and we always exchange pleasantries. As I was leaving last night after writing my blog, she asked about my weekend and I told her I had visited the hamman. The typical response when I mention this is "ah, le hamman, c'est bon." The store owners response was no exception, however I also received a nice invitation to join her one day at the local hammam, inshallah.
That might sound a bit odd... how many times has a store owner invited you to take a bath with them? (various SF subcultures not withstanding). However, here it's not only evidence of a culture of welcome generosity, but also an indication of the culture of community that exists here. You might even call it tribal in a certain sense.
You see many examples of this, from the obvious sharing of bowls and platters of food (it's very rare to have individual servings) to the sharing of cabs. At the table also, only a few glasses of water are set and everyone shares the same glass (I still haven't become used to that one). Personal space is non-existant. You also often find many family members living together, though here in Rabat thay may have as much to do with the cost and scarcity of real estate as with culture. Our house has a sink in the common are where we all wash our hands and brush out teeth. I could go on.
There is something reassuring in this culture of sharing, the safety of the tribe.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Sunday, October 19, 2008
The hammam
There are many wonderful things to love about Morocco and this morning I discovered another... the hammam (which from now on I will pronounce hammaaahhhhhmmmm). The hamman is the traditional public bath where you shed your clothes and most of your skin because cleanliness is truly next to godliness afterall.
To be completely honest, the idea of going someplace around the corner from my house and the open air market selling fish and vegetables, and spending a dollar fifty to shower with a bunch of naked female neighbors was a little off-putting, so for my first experience a friend and I opted to go the lux route.
A three dollar cab ride took us to Institut Moving - a spa/health club in a nice area of Rabat. After checking in for our Mille et une nuit (thousand and one nights) session we were escorted to a beautiful relaxation room decorted like a haram. We shed clothes (a strange experience having done nothing but ensure almost complete body coverage for the last 6 weeks) and were escorted to the hot room - a kind of sauna with a barrel ceiling and very warm stone benches all around where we were rinsed and slathered with some kind of mixture of henna and herbs and oil. Looking like a couple of mud wrestlers, we marinated for 15 minutes before being led to rinse off and then to the warm room.
For the next hour we were laid out on heated soap stone slabs and scrubbed with a sandpaper mitt (kese), soaped, shampooed, massaged, rinsed, oiled with something smelling of jasmine and soothed with a facial mask of mint and sugar (it's a rare experience in Morocco that doesn't involve sugar). Then back to the haram room wrapped in a warm robe with a glass of fresh orange juice to listen to soothing tinkling bells (some spa effects are universal) and relax. And all this for 200 dh (about 30 dollars)!! OMG, we both agreed we'd be back.
Now I'm ready to try the neighborhood joint around the corner. I'm sure it will be an amazing expereince of another sort... hopefully I won't come out smelling like fish.
To be completely honest, the idea of going someplace around the corner from my house and the open air market selling fish and vegetables, and spending a dollar fifty to shower with a bunch of naked female neighbors was a little off-putting, so for my first experience a friend and I opted to go the lux route.
A three dollar cab ride took us to Institut Moving - a spa/health club in a nice area of Rabat. After checking in for our Mille et une nuit (thousand and one nights) session we were escorted to a beautiful relaxation room decorted like a haram. We shed clothes (a strange experience having done nothing but ensure almost complete body coverage for the last 6 weeks) and were escorted to the hot room - a kind of sauna with a barrel ceiling and very warm stone benches all around where we were rinsed and slathered with some kind of mixture of henna and herbs and oil. Looking like a couple of mud wrestlers, we marinated for 15 minutes before being led to rinse off and then to the warm room.
For the next hour we were laid out on heated soap stone slabs and scrubbed with a sandpaper mitt (kese), soaped, shampooed, massaged, rinsed, oiled with something smelling of jasmine and soothed with a facial mask of mint and sugar (it's a rare experience in Morocco that doesn't involve sugar). Then back to the haram room wrapped in a warm robe with a glass of fresh orange juice to listen to soothing tinkling bells (some spa effects are universal) and relax. And all this for 200 dh (about 30 dollars)!! OMG, we both agreed we'd be back.
Now I'm ready to try the neighborhood joint around the corner. I'm sure it will be an amazing expereince of another sort... hopefully I won't come out smelling like fish.
Monday, October 13, 2008
The Wedding... Part Three
Three hours of sleep and a knock on my bedroom door. Time for petit dejeuner with the family and 10 wedding guests who never made it home. Listening to more incomprehensible conversations in Arabic and craving an afternoon of sleep and a nice evening shower. Hah.
Lunch at 2pm, then decided to do a bit of laundry to take advantage of the Sunday sun (and fearing an immenent lack of clean underwear). Layed down for nap around 4. Five pm - sounds of chairs shuffling and people arriving. I open my bedroom door to ask what's up and learn that part three of the wedding will be happening at our house in the next few hours. "Nothing like last night, just the family, but you should wear your new djabador."
Over the next few hours people arriving, furniture being rearranged, kids running amok, glasses being washed, napkins being folded. 9pm - a house full of 50 people, traditional Moroccan percussionists, table full of wedding gifts, more sweets, tea. Bride and groom arrive, are seated for first musical act. Women dance, people sing, bride changes clothes three times. Presents are opened, platters of pastilla and tagine are served.
In bed finally at midnight. No guests sleeping in the salon.
I've been told that's it for les fetes de marriage. I haven't arrived home yet tonight. We'll see
Lunch at 2pm, then decided to do a bit of laundry to take advantage of the Sunday sun (and fearing an immenent lack of clean underwear). Layed down for nap around 4. Five pm - sounds of chairs shuffling and people arriving. I open my bedroom door to ask what's up and learn that part three of the wedding will be happening at our house in the next few hours. "Nothing like last night, just the family, but you should wear your new djabador."
Over the next few hours people arriving, furniture being rearranged, kids running amok, glasses being washed, napkins being folded. 9pm - a house full of 50 people, traditional Moroccan percussionists, table full of wedding gifts, more sweets, tea. Bride and groom arrive, are seated for first musical act. Women dance, people sing, bride changes clothes three times. Presents are opened, platters of pastilla and tagine are served.
In bed finally at midnight. No guests sleeping in the salon.
I've been told that's it for les fetes de marriage. I haven't arrived home yet tonight. We'll see
Sunday, October 12, 2008
The wedding... part two
OMG. There is nothing I've experienced that comes close to last night's event. Forgive me if I'm a bit incoherent, but I finally made it to bed by 6am and then was up at 9:30 for breakfast with the 10 women who never made it home last night from the big night.
Due to unceasing rain, there was a last minute change of venue so at 4pm yesterday we were madly removing carpets and furniture to accomodate 200 people at our house (note that our house is probably a modest 1800 sq ft). And that was only the beginning.
There is no way to accurately depict a traditional Moroccan wedding in writing, but I'll do what I can. Imagine the most lavish silk and brocade dresses in vibrant colors, belted with gold or silk... now imagine 150 women wearing these. My costume was one of the fanciest things I've ever worn and I felt under-dressed.
Now imagine the loudest middle eastern beats you can, a wonderful singer and the whole house clapping and dancing like mad (yup, traditional Moroccan belly dancing moves)... for 8 hours straight. And keep in mind that like last night, were talking about a house full of women... with the exception of the band and the caterers, the men were banished to the hall.
Now imagine the most beautiful bride you've ever seen carried in a silver platter and paraded through the house by four men and, after that, five (yes, 5) costume changes complete with matching jewelry, tiara/crown. And not a simple necklace or bracelet, but draped in gold, pearls and silver. Even some of the guests changed outfits... only Allah knows where they were keeping them. (Rashid, the groom did change from suit to caftan a couple times, but he even kept the same tie). Then more parading around on raised platters, presentatations of gifts, eating of dates, exchanging of rings and jewelry, and more dancing. A quick flicker or YouTube search will give you some idea of the experience. I'll have my own video and pix to share at some point (the broadband gods willing).
The whole affair ended with a 4:30am ride to Rabat's most famous monument, the Tour Hassan, for a few photos (did I forget to mention that each costume change was also accompanied by photos with many of the guests... there seriously must be 2000 photos from the event).
To think that all of this wildness was fueled by a little fruit juice, tea and sweets is also quite amazing, especially for those of us used to 2-day wedding hangovers from too much champagne. I will admit to a slight sugar hangover this morning though along with ringing ears.
There is so much more I could describe, but I'd be here for hours and lunch is calling. You'll have to wait for the in-person stories. All I can say is that it's incredibly difficult to express how priviledged and lucky I feel for having been a part of this amazing experience. It's truly altered and greatly enhanced my impression of this country, its culture and its people. This adventure really is my baraka.
Due to unceasing rain, there was a last minute change of venue so at 4pm yesterday we were madly removing carpets and furniture to accomodate 200 people at our house (note that our house is probably a modest 1800 sq ft). And that was only the beginning.
There is no way to accurately depict a traditional Moroccan wedding in writing, but I'll do what I can. Imagine the most lavish silk and brocade dresses in vibrant colors, belted with gold or silk... now imagine 150 women wearing these. My costume was one of the fanciest things I've ever worn and I felt under-dressed.
Now imagine the loudest middle eastern beats you can, a wonderful singer and the whole house clapping and dancing like mad (yup, traditional Moroccan belly dancing moves)... for 8 hours straight. And keep in mind that like last night, were talking about a house full of women... with the exception of the band and the caterers, the men were banished to the hall.
Now imagine the most beautiful bride you've ever seen carried in a silver platter and paraded through the house by four men and, after that, five (yes, 5) costume changes complete with matching jewelry, tiara/crown. And not a simple necklace or bracelet, but draped in gold, pearls and silver. Even some of the guests changed outfits... only Allah knows where they were keeping them. (Rashid, the groom did change from suit to caftan a couple times, but he even kept the same tie). Then more parading around on raised platters, presentatations of gifts, eating of dates, exchanging of rings and jewelry, and more dancing. A quick flicker or YouTube search will give you some idea of the experience. I'll have my own video and pix to share at some point (the broadband gods willing).
The whole affair ended with a 4:30am ride to Rabat's most famous monument, the Tour Hassan, for a few photos (did I forget to mention that each costume change was also accompanied by photos with many of the guests... there seriously must be 2000 photos from the event).
To think that all of this wildness was fueled by a little fruit juice, tea and sweets is also quite amazing, especially for those of us used to 2-day wedding hangovers from too much champagne. I will admit to a slight sugar hangover this morning though along with ringing ears.
There is so much more I could describe, but I'd be here for hours and lunch is calling. You'll have to wait for the in-person stories. All I can say is that it's incredibly difficult to express how priviledged and lucky I feel for having been a part of this amazing experience. It's truly altered and greatly enhanced my impression of this country, its culture and its people. This adventure really is my baraka.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
My big fat Moroccan wedding...
I've been extremely lucky to have been invited to a traditional Moroccan wedding this weekend... two days of feasting, dancing (so I hear), and getting dressed up. Like many things here, the way I came about discovering this invitation was quite by accident... during lunch last week Said's mother Aisha showed a new beautiful caftan to Wafae. Having sat through a whole coucous meal conversation in Arabic of which I understood nothing, I finally had a chance to comment on the beauty of the outfit (zweena). I later learned that night from Said that the aforementioned caftan was for his brother Said's wedding in one weed and h by the way, I must come and I need appropriate attire (I mean really... how do you plan for these things?). Thus started my week of shopping...
The wedding takes place over 2 days - last night and today - and I learned I needed a different outfit for each. I am now the owner of a very beautiful green and gold djabador, and a shocking pink Moroccan caftan with gold trim and a brocade belt. Of course I also had to buy gold shoes and a gold purse to match, and new earrings.
Last night we (the groom's family) walked through the narrow streets carrying a big bouquet of roses to a house where the bride's side waited. The women all chanted on the way there. Within the great atrium of the traditional home, the bride sat poised on a raised brocade seat and draped in emerald green and gold silks with more gold and pearl jewelry than you'd ever seen. A woman decorated her hand and feet with intricate henna designs while everyone sat and ate sweets, drank tea, talked, drummed, clapped and sang... at least this is what the women did. The men were all in side salons probably talking about soccer.
The groom, Rashid, sat next to his fiancee and many photos were taken (I'm in one). Finally the couple signed their official wedding contract. This is the point of this event. At about midnight huge platters of coucous and roasted chickens were served and we finally all went home around 2am.
Today is an even bigger party with hundreds of people and I'm not sure exactly what happens though I hear there is a lot more singing and dancing... I'll let you know!
So that's my life here... one moment swinging a laughing autistic child in the air as he pulls my hair and gets drooling bisquit pieces on my sweater, the next sitting like a princess in a fairy tale getting my hand henna'd. Who would have thought.
The wedding takes place over 2 days - last night and today - and I learned I needed a different outfit for each. I am now the owner of a very beautiful green and gold djabador, and a shocking pink Moroccan caftan with gold trim and a brocade belt. Of course I also had to buy gold shoes and a gold purse to match, and new earrings.
Last night we (the groom's family) walked through the narrow streets carrying a big bouquet of roses to a house where the bride's side waited. The women all chanted on the way there. Within the great atrium of the traditional home, the bride sat poised on a raised brocade seat and draped in emerald green and gold silks with more gold and pearl jewelry than you'd ever seen. A woman decorated her hand and feet with intricate henna designs while everyone sat and ate sweets, drank tea, talked, drummed, clapped and sang... at least this is what the women did. The men were all in side salons probably talking about soccer.
The groom, Rashid, sat next to his fiancee and many photos were taken (I'm in one). Finally the couple signed their official wedding contract. This is the point of this event. At about midnight huge platters of coucous and roasted chickens were served and we finally all went home around 2am.
Today is an even bigger party with hundreds of people and I'm not sure exactly what happens though I hear there is a lot more singing and dancing... I'll let you know!
So that's my life here... one moment swinging a laughing autistic child in the air as he pulls my hair and gets drooling bisquit pieces on my sweater, the next sitting like a princess in a fairy tale getting my hand henna'd. Who would have thought.
Friday, October 3, 2008
The end of Ramadan...
Well, Ramadan has finally ended as of Wednesday, and I have to say that I'm missing it. Not being a big daytime eater anyway, I had no problem fasting (and happily lost a few extra kilos), but now having to be home for breakfast, lunch and dinner is really putting a crimp in my schedule. And to be honest, I'm missing all that sugar (me of all people). I wonder if I can request , dates, s'fouf and tea for dessert tomorrow night??
On the positive side, eating and drinking (non-alcohol) in public seems like a treat now. Yesterday, a couple friends and I had table service on the beach... Fanta in the afternoon never tasted so good.
Marrakech Express
Yes, since the beginning of last weekend I've had that song running through my head, because I finally experienced the Marrakech Express... well not really the express - it did take 4 hours from Rabat.
Marrakech was not at all what I expected but that could be said of much of my experience in Morocco. Somehow I pictured fortress walls, men in dusty djellabas, camels, snake charmers, sand and date palms. Well, 3 out of 6 ain't bad. Definitely walls, snake charmers and palm trees, but also lush gardens, carriages and more tourists than Moroccans.
At first glance, Marrakech seems more like a third world Disneyland, though walking through the souks, you definitely know that you're in Morocco. People and motos everywhere and unbelievably no one is getting crushed. If you have any issues with personal space, Morocco is not the place for you. On any day inevitably you will find yourself in a complete gridlock of people, with a cacophony of smells and sounds bombarding your senses. It's wonderful actually.
My only unfortunate outcome... I've now developed a bit of an addiction to bargaining. It's less of a game in Rabat, where tourists are fewer (though still part of the buying process however), but in Marrakech, it's essential or you'll be paying 3x the price. What I can away with... pillows, jewelry (of course) and some fun photos. And a great deal on a carriage ride around town.
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