Uncomfortable Passenger

Last week I was walking through the town in which I live here in the Sahara. I saw a man riding a motorcycle down the street, clutching his passenger to his chest.

I wished I'd gotten a picture of him! However, I didn't get a photo of them for a couple of reasons. First, I didn't have my camera with me. But second, even if I'd had my camera with me, it wouldn't have been appropriate to have taken a picture of him as he and his passenger passed me. In Morocco, it's expected that you're not going to take a photo of someone unless you ask the person for permission. It wouldn't have been feasible to have asked him, since he was passing me on his motorcycle.

Since I saw him on his motorcycle, I've thought that I'll just have to do with recalling the image in my mind. Perhaps from time to time, I will recall, in my mind's eye, this man steering his motorcycle with one hand, and with the other hand, clutching to his chest a seemingly nervous sheep bleating its cries of protest as they rode down the street.

Cross-Cultural Exchange About Pets

Currently the kids who attend public school here in Morocco have a two-week break. Consequently there are fewer kids coming to the dar chebab (Darija, or Moroccan Arabic, for "youth center") where I do most of my volunteering as a PCV. Thus I also have fewer kids asking me questions about English.

When I've been going to the dar chebab for the last week or so, I've played some games of pool. The kids are so good at pool, though, that even when I play one of my best games, I still just barely lose!

Once the dar chebab had closed last night, I was walking home, incidentally with the boy who had bested me in our game of pool. We saw a dog at the side of the street, sniffing some sacks piled on the ground. The student asked me if people have dogs as pets in the US. I told him that many people keep dogs as pets in the US. In contrast, far fewer Moroccans keep dogs as pets. In fact, many Moroccans don't treat dogs well. I added that many people in the US keep cats as pets. When Moroccans have cats, the cats don't seem to live at the homes so much as they tend to be frequent visitors. The cats show up often and the people feed them.

I added that some people in the US keep fish as pets. My walking companion noted that people don't have fish as pets in Morocco. Later I considered why he had said that, and I thought that here in town, most people are impoverished. Thus it probably doesn't make sense to buy, in addition to the fish, a fish tank and special food for the fish. Also, they would also likely pay for the additional expense of the electricity for the fish tank.

Then we spoke a little bit about the animals which people here in town often have at their homes. I noted that people sometimes have pigeons, sheep and goats at their homes. However, I often think about how people don't have them so much as pets; rather, these animals help them to survive, since these people often live off of them; that is, they eat them!

Being a Foodie in the Peace Corps

I love food. I am, most definitely, a food lover, or, as some say, a "foodie." Back when I lived in the states, I lived in, and visited, towns and cities which offered so much great food. I began to realize that with so much great food around, there's no reason to settle for mediocre food. Even a burrito for less than 4 dollars could be a real treat when I bothered to go to the best taqueria in the city, rather than just uncreatively opting to go to the nearest place.

So this week I was happy when I had some of the best tajine (essentially a kind of Moroccan stew) at some Moroccans' houses for lunch. And during one of those visits, my host told me that his spouse had baked the cookies we were eating, which were also some of the best cookies I've eaten here in Morocco.

There at his house, we ate the tajine of sheep meat, prunes and almonds out of a communal dish, breaking pieces of bread off from large, round, flat bread, and using those pieces of bread to grasp food from the communal dish. When we had finished eating, the host's son arrived with some of the tajine oil, or sauce, and poured it into the communal dish out of which we had been eating. I was shocked that no one else leaned forward to mop it up with some bread. I gladly did so. There was still a good amount of oil left in the dish when his son took it away. The sauce was so delicious, that I was glad to get to have more of it!

Later that night, when I was back at home, lying in bed in the dark, soon before falling asleep, I thought of my day. I thought of how I had gone to their house for lunch. I thought of how much of a foodie I am, and how delicious that meal was earlier in the day. And then I laughed out loud, gratefully and joyfully, as I thought, "Even in the Peace Corps I eat well!"

Peace Corps Didn't Train Me How To Do This!

A couple of nights ago, I was walking down the street in my town here in the Sahara. I looked to the side of the road and saw a boy sitting on top of a donkey. He said to me in Darija, that is, Moroccan Arabic, "Llah harm l-walidin," meaning "God bless your parents."

This phrase sometimes is said as a way of thanking someone with much gratitude. However, it is also used when asking someone for help, especially when one feels that one really needs the help. Accordingly, when I looked to the ground and saw a middle aged man trying to lift a sheep, I asked, "Wesh nawnk?" meaning "Can I help you?" The boy nodded.

I replied, "Bllati," meaning "Wait," as I moved to place on the ground the carton of peach nectar that I had just bought. I then bent down to help the man. I saw that he was about to pick up the hind part of the sheep. That left me to pick up the front part of the sheep. Unsure of the best way to do so, I just tried to pick it up in between its neck and its legs. As we were moving it from the ground up to the boy on the donkey, I felt what I worried was an unfortunate vibration coming from the neck of the sheep. It occurred to me that I might have been cutting off its air flow. As I walked away from them, hoping that I hadn't injured the sheep, because I didn't know how best to pick it up, I thought, "Peace Corps didn't train me how to do this!"

Take Care Of My Sheep

Dusk was near
Alongside the train from Marrakech to Rabat
The silhouette of a shepherd and a dozen sheep.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it any sooner, but I was all tied up."

Some words about transportation in Morocco. I think I've already mentioned buses and trains in previous blog posts. One can also get around in Morocco by taking both petit taxis and grand taxis. Petit taxis travel within cities and sometimes within some bigger towns, and typically take no more than three passengers, two in the back seat, and one in the front passenger seat. Grand taxis, which are usually Mercedes, travel between towns and cities, and carry six passengers, in addition to the driver, cramming four people in the back seat, and two in the front passenger seat. Each passenger pays for his or her own place. If a passenger in a grand taxi wants more space, that passenger can pay for an additional seat or for additional seats. But usually each passenger only pays for his or her own seat. Grand taxi drivers ideally want to fill up the taxis because they don't want to miss out on money they can make, so even if a passenger is ready to go, usually the driver waits for the taxi to fill up before leaving town. Sometimes after waiting a little while, a driver will leave with a taxi that isn't full, after making a judgment call that it's better to get going and at least make the money from the passengers who are already there, rather than keep waiting for more passengers, who may take a while to show up.

I was sitting at the grand taxi stand in my town last week, waiting for a taxi to fill up so I could get to another PCV's site to attend an exhibition of talent of local youths. As I sat waiting there, in front of me lie a sheep with three of its legs tied up. And then I thought that that sheep and I were more similar than I had previously thought: neither that sheep nor I were going anywhere until each of the guys transporting us decided that it was time to go.

Eid Kbir

Today Muslims around the world have been celebrating the annual sacrificial feast of Islam.  Moroccans call it "The Great Feast," which is "Eid Kbir."  It is meant to memorialize how God ordered Abraham to sacrifice his son.  Jewish and Christian believers think that Abraham was about to sacrifice his son Isaac.  Muslims believe that God ordered Abraham to sacrifice his other son, Ishmael.  Therefore, Eid Kbir is celebrated from the point-of-view that Abraham was ordered to sacrifice his son Ishmael.  (All three faiths believe that after God ordered Abraham to sacrifice his son, Abraham was about to do so.  Under all three faiths, God then told Abraham not to sacrifice him, because God had only told Abraham to sacrifice his son to test Abraham's devotion to God. Instead of sacrificing his son, Abraham sacrificed an animal.)

Every family is to have its own sheep on Eid Kbir.  Those who cannot afford a sheep buy a less expensive animal, such as a goat.  In Morocco, families are not to kill their sheep until the King has slain his sheep.  Today I watched the King kill two sheep on TV. After the King has killed his sheep, then the head of each household kills the sheep for that family, then the sheep is cooked bit by bit.  Earlier today, I ate various sheep parts, including sheep liver.

It is customary to purify oneself for Eid Kbir.  One is expected to make oneself as clean as possible.  Accordingly, this morning my host brother, his visiting nephew and I visited the local hammam, which is essentially a Moroccan bath house.  Each of us brought a kis (Darija, or Moroccan Arabic for "exfoliating glove") and we scrubbed ourselves, removing much dirt from our bodies.  We scrubbed each others' backs, too.  Men and boys also get haircuts in preparation for Eid Kbir.

Community members also pray more than usual during Eid Kbir.  Also, it is customary, as always, to give alms to impoverished persons.  People also give some of the cooked sheep parts to poor people as well.  Since it is also customary to visit family and friends during Eid Kbir, I accompanied my host brother and his visiting nephew when they visited some of their relatives here in town this morning.

I certainly feel that I am learning about the culture of Morocco by experiencing Eid Kbir.