Christmas Vacation

In the past five weeks I've been in five different countries (not counting Morocco), but mostly Germany, Austria, and Egypt. I had a month of vacation between semesters, and I didn't waste my time. And funny enough, the past month outside of Morocco was the best time I've had since coming to Morocco, mainly because I was with family.

Vacation Part I: Rabat -> Kandern, Germany.

I spent Christmas with my sister, brother-in-law, and his sister and her husband who live in Kandern. It was a really great week. The first thing I did when I got to their house was eat bacon. Then I slept a lot and laid around in my pajamas enjoying a heated house. For the first time in a month and a half, I wasn't freezing inside the house! That was a very, very nice feeling. That week we ate a lot, played a lot of games, went hiking, and took a day trip to Christmas markets in France.


We took a hike on Christmas day and saw little beautiful things like this


and big beautiful things like this.



A Christmas market in France


Vacation Part II: Kandern -> Salzburg -> Munich

Salzburg was amazing. It's one of my favorite cities now. It was small, beautiful, tasteful, and romantic. It wasn't crazy and busy and over the top touristy like a lot of big European cities are. It was a really nice place to spend a few days. It was so, so beautiful. It wasn't just the city, with the incredible old architecture and the castle and the river running right through it, it was also the backdrop of picturesque mountains which surround Salzburg in every direction. And the best part was that I got to see a bunch of the places where the Sound of Music was filmed! We also went skiing one day outside of the city, but let's just say the slopes were a little too hard for some of us.


Me and my amazing sis in Salzburg


A couple dancing to live music



The gazebo from the Sound of Music



Salzburg


On the way to Munich we went to Cinderella's castle, which is also the castle that the Disney castle is based on. We didn't go inside, but it was pretty cool to see it.



Cinderella's castle!

Munich was really nice. My favorite part about it was that there were dogs everywhere: on the street, in stores, and in restaurants, places you would never see a dog in the U.S. They were all well behaved and wonderful. I'm getting a dog as soon as I possibly can. I didn't take any pictures in Munich because I was tired of lugging around my big camera and huge lenses with me everywhere by this time. But we went to some museums, ate good food, walked around a lot, saw a couple movies, and did other touristy things.

Oh, and I should clarify before I go on: I ate more pork on this vacation than I ever have in a two week period. I think I had meat that wasn't pork maybe two or three times the whole trip. Absence makes the heart grow fonder.


I don't remember what this was called but it was in Munich and it was pretty.

Vacation Part III: Munich -> Cairo

I hadn't exactly planned what I was going to do after Europe, but I realized I didn't want to spend two weeks alone in Morocco, so my wonderful parents bought me a ticket to stay with Kristen and Robert in Cairo for the remaining two weeks of my vacation. I had to fly back to Casablanca and fly to Cairo from there, and the six hours I spent in Morocco made me so glad I didn't have to go back for two more weeks. I bought a salad at the airport, and then after hunting for a fork for about five minutes, was informed that there were none. So I ate the salad with my hands. Then I walked back and forth between the two terminals about three times because I was really tired and started out looking for Terminal 2, but then forgot which terminal I was looking for and thought I must be looking for Terminal 1 because I couldn't find Terminal 2. But no, I needed Terminal 2, and the lady at the Royal Air Maroc thought I was crazy because I came back and asked her the same exact question I had asked 15 minutes earlier. This whole time I was sweating profusely because I was lugging around my huge, stuffed, extremely heavy packpacking pack, my stuffed, heavy school backpack, and my camera case. Moral of this little story, in case you ever fly out of Casablanca, Terminal 2 is really hard to find. Just follow the yellow line on the floor. Anyway, six hours later, at 1am, I finally was on my flight to Cairo. I had already eaten dinner and all I wanted to do was sleep, but the flight attendant was not ok with that. She kept waking me up and insisting I eat. Oh, Morocco. I love you but sometimes I hate you.

Cairo sure isn't Europe, but it was wonderful to be in Kristen and Robert's nice big apartment, have a full kitchen stocked with American ingredients, and cook, sleep, watch movies, and take stand up showers to my heart's content. The best part was Stella, their dog. Stella and I had a two week love affair and leaving her was very, very hard. She was a street dog that they saved, and she is the most precious ball of white and orange and brown fur that ever was.


You can't get any cuter than this



One of my favorites


Stella and I

I've been back at school in Rabat for the past week. It's back to an ovenless kitchen, curtainless showers, and a heaterless house. But it's really great to be back with my host family and in my own room. I bought a beautiful houseplant for the room this weekend and put up all the posters I had bought last semester but never got around to putting up. It's a lot more homey now. My baby sister is as cute as ever. God is good. The end.

you make beautiful things

Sometimes I just need to remember the little, beautiful things in life.


"Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair." - Kahlil Gibran


The beauty of this earth is a reflection of the One who is always good, even when bad things happen.


Though the fig tree should not blossom,
nor fruit be on the vines,
the produce of the olive fail
and the fields yield no food,
the flock be cut off from the fold
and there be no herd in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the LORD;
I will take joy in the God of my salvation.
- Habakkuk 3:17-18

#FreeWho?

Anyone who has known me in the past two years knows that I love Invisible Children and strongly believe in their mission to stop the longest running war in Africa. For the past 25 years, the LRA has been kidnapping children, brainwashing them, forcing them to kill their family in some instances, and enlisting them in the rebel army ranks. The LRA terrorizes innocent civilians in four different central African nations with impunity.

Invisible Children has told the world about these atrocities and has gotten millions of young people excited about stopping injustice in central Africa. I would probably be on a very different path in life were it not for Invisible Children. I have made so many wonderful friends and have had some incredible experiences because of IC and the work I have done in support of their mission.

So when I criticize this organization, it’s not because I don’t deeply believe in their cause. But as I have been putting more and more thought into the images and sound bytes and methodologies that I see encouraged by IC, I have been wondering if the effects are always productive.

What provoked this post is one of the publicity stunts that Invisible Children is currently promoting. An IC employee, Timmy Harris, is locking himself in a cage until 2 million dollars are raised for the Protection Plan. He’s making a sacrifice for something he believes in, and that’s great. Now, I don’t like how much emphasis IC has been putting on the amount of money they raise for the Protection Plan, but I can definitely respect someone with a different opinion about that (and that’s more of an over arching ideological problem about Western organizations doing development in Africa). The money part is not my main problem with what this guy is doing. What I don’t like is that the tagline for this stunt is #FreeTimmy.

For those who don’t know, #Free_____ hash tags are currently trending on twitter for all the bloggers and activists who are being or have been unjustly arrested and held in Arab countries (particularly Egypt and Syria). These jailed activists represent the struggle for justice and accountability and democracy in the Arab world. They have been beaten, tortured, sexually assaulted and tried in illegitimate military courts. These are the activists who have been jailed, not killed. Those who have been killed in uprisings since last December number in the tens of thousands.

The #FreeTimmy hash tag trivializes the significance of the #FreeAlaa, #FreeMaikel, #FreeRazan, and #FreeMona hash tags. I know that Timmy is raising money to stop injustice in central Africa. But he should not be comparing himself to those who are being held against their will, tortured, and sexually assaulted, regardless of what he is raising money for. Terrible atrocities are ongoing in both Arab countries and central Africa. But these are two different situations. What Timmy Harris is experiencing is much, much different from what Alaa Abd El-Fatah, Maikel Nabil, Razan Ghazzawi, and Mona Eltahawy have experienced or are experiencing. Invisible Children and Timmy Harris should find another tagline for this campaign that is both catchy and respectful.

I should've learned Spanish

A couple months ago I booked a flight with six other girls to Madrid over the Moroccan Independence Day holiday weekend, and it ended up being the best girls weekend I've had in quite a while. The saga began when my compatriots (Gretchen, Megan, Brittany, Ana, Emily, Elise) and I left Rabat at 5:30 am Friday morning to get to the airport in Casablanca by 7 to make our 9 am flight to Madrid (EasyJet, $120!! I love budget airlines). I'm not a morning person so the whole way there I was just sleepy and bored, but as soon as I stepped outside of the metro from the airport and into Spanish air I realized something that made me really happy: "I'm not in Morocco!!"

Getting a break from Morocco was much needed. It was so, so, so nice to to be in a western country, where I was free from the restrictions and differences of Morocco. The first time we went walking down the street from our apartment, we counted four different Starbucks on our way. Halleluja!! I don't really even miss Starbucks in Morocco, but it made me so happy just to see something so American that I don't have access to here. And oh, how I've missed chai tea! It never tasted so good as it did then. Starbucks already had all their holiday drinks out, and that Peppermint Mocha was a nice change of pace. It was so wonderful to see Christmas decorations up, to walk on well maintained sidewalks, to see trashcans every fifteen feet (what a novelty!), to not have to worry about how I dress, to not be stared at, to eat bacon and pork (!!!!!!!!), to be able to go out at night with absolutely no fears of harassment, to take a long, hot shower in a tub with a glass door and a holder for the shower nozzle. But maybe the most wonderful part of it was staying in an apartment with some of my favorite girls from the program, with the complete freedom and privacy that we all miss so much and don't have with our home stay families.

About the apartment: our friend Ana's family lives in Madrid, and her grandparents weren't currently using their apartment in downtown Madrid. So we got to stay in a beautiful, furnished full apartment in the best part of the city for completely free. Ana's aunt lives in the apartment directly above, and so we got to see her a lot. She and Ana's grandmother brought us so much food: pastries, bread, cured meats, tortilla (an incredible Spanish egg dish, not flour tortillas like from a taco). I felt like I was eating like royalty the whole time I was there. We were invited to a family lunch on Saturday, and it was sooo incredible. It was at this restaurant owned by an American expat, and it served some of the best American food I've ever had - you would never find food this good in the states. The meat for the hamburgers was the most delicious, melt-in-your-mouth high quality meat I've ever tasted. The onion rings were wonderfully fresh, the corn on the cob was perfect, the chili was incredible, the oreo cheesecake and brownie sunday were delicious. The restaurant had a Southern/Texas theme, so I felt especially at home. There were two TVs on, one showing a rodeo and the other a Lynyrd Skynyrd concert. Nothing made me happier than when they played Sweet Home Alabama :). That makes the second country I've been in where I've heard that song played (first was Morocco, amazingly enough). The only thing that could have made the whole experience better is if there was Alabama football on.

I was able to shop my heart out at H&M and a Mango outlet. Dresses! Boots! Short skirts and tank tops! I couldn't resist buying one adorable dress that's a little too short for Morocco. (But I'm wearing it to the Thanksgiving dinner at the American Club today, so there you go). Also, my other most favorite thing about Spain was that people are out ALL NIGHT. In Rabat, as soon as it gets dark, the harassment gets worse, and though some people go out, it's not generally accepted to be appropriate. In Spain, as soon as it gets dark, the streets get sooooo crowded and only keep getting more and more crowded. We were out until past 4 am one night and felt perfectly safe.

Madrid was probably the most beautiful city I've ever been to. There is the perfect balance of beautiful preserved historical sites and modern conveniences. There is so much to do and to see. The people are beautiful and fashionable, yet very friendly. It reminded me of Paris minus the hype and bus loads of tourists.

Oh, what else? The whole weekend was just so wonderful, and when Sunday rolled around I kept thinking how much I didn't want to go back to Morocco Monday morning. We had to get up at 4:30 that morning to make our flight and we all got about two hours of sleep, so that morning I was not at all excited to be awake or on my way back to Morocco. But once we got back to Casablanca and on the train to Rabat, I wasn't upset or depressed to be back. I felt like I was back home. As much as I can't stand certain aspects of culture here, and as hard as it is to get used to the different ways of living, I love this country. I love how inefficient everything is, I love hearing the call to prayer even when it wakes me up at 4 am, I love how cheap everything is here, and I love seeing kittens wandering around at every single cafe I frequent. I love my host family, our little apartment, and our doorman. I love everyone at AMIDEAST, I love all the classrooms and the five flights of stairs that lead up to the study abroad room, and I love seeing all the Moroccans there learning English. I probably should have learned Spanish (based on my performance in Arabic class), but Morocco is my home now, and I love this place.

Happy Thanksgiving, y'all!

Some complaining and some preaching

A poor sheet awaiting his fate.

The past couple weeks have been really hard. Initially after I got back from fall break it was so wonderful to be back in Rabat, but those feelings faded as soon as I got back into the grind of classes. I thought I had adjusted to life in Morocco weeks ago, but I’ve been feeling even more out of place and homesick than I did when I thought I was at the low point of culture shock. I miss Tuscaloosa and everyone there so much (and a few people in Huntsville, too).

Certain things about the culture here are just so hard to get used to. Yesterday I forgot I needed to get home for lunch by 12:15 since that’s when the men start overflowing from the mosque for Friday prayers and blocking the entrance to my apartment building. I decided to try to get home at 12:30 anyways, and as I walked up my street and saw rows of men already lined up on the prayer mats spanning the whole length of my apartment building, I got so incredibly angry. I had been sick the day before, so I hadn’t eaten breakfast that morning. I was hungry, hot, and tired, and all I wanted was to go home and eat lunch with my family. But Friday prayer trumps all in this dominantly Muslim country, and for those few moments I just wanted to storm through all the stupid men who were so rude to keep me from getting in or out of my house every single Friday afternoon. It wouldn’t be that hard for them to leave a path to my door so that I and all the other people in the building who don’t pray can have access to our houses. I stormed off to the grocery store which is the normal getaway for Katherine and I when this happens. I did my grocery shopping and impatiently waited for prayers to be over. When I finally could go home, I was still mad. I walked up to the door of my apartment building, and the men were leaving but they hadn’t taken away the giant prayer mats yet. I knew that walking on the mats (with shoes on) is incredibly disrespectful, and I thought for a split second about asking the men who were standing around to move it. But one, I already felt (as usual) very self conscious wading through hundreds of religious men as an obviously non Muslim foreign woman, and two, the thought of asking the men who I already had a grudge against to move the stupid mat that, in my opinion, shouldn’t have been there preventing me from going home in the first place was just too much for my ego to take. So I walked across it and got some very dirty looks and mutterings.

Some things are just hard to get used to. Like seeing sheep butchered and skinned.

Earlier this week was the Muslim holiday Eid El-Adha, which is kind of like Thanksgiving except instead of turkey you eat sheep, and instead of buying a frozen turkey at the grocery store you buy a live sheep (or, usually two) and slaughter it on your roof. So I got to experience the killing, skinning, gutting, and eating of not one, but two poor, poor sheep. I’m not a super sensitive person, so I watched it all happen (and documented it with many pictures), but I’m not going to lie - it was pretty disturbing. To see, in the span of ten minutes, a sheep go from alive and baaaing, to dying with blood spurting violently from its slit throat, to thrashing and trying to gasp for air through it’s severed sheep larynx in the few minutes it takes to die, to dead, to a giant piece of meet hanging from the ceiling by it’s back legs, is, well, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Then in the next 30 minutes I witness it’s skin being slowly cut from the body, so that it didn’t even look like a sheep. Now I’m eating parts of those sheep almost every day. Appetizing, yeah?

The bloody aftermath.

But honestly, the hardest part about Eid was that it reminded me so much of Thanksgiving and Christmas that I got really depressed thinking about how I’m going to miss celebrating those holidays at home with my family and friends. I was at my host grandparent’s house for two days with a bunch of relatives who didn’t speak English for Eid, watching sheep be killed, then eating the weirdest organs, and no one really talked to me until the afternoon of the second day when I made friends with my host cousins.

I know that a lot of people would give a lot to be where I am right now. People think I’m brave, living the dream, and having the time of my life. But I think so often how much I would love to just be in Tuscaloosa this semester, living at Jamestown, tending a little vegetable garden in the backyard and some flowers in the front yard, being on leadership in RUF and worshipping with my church family every Sunday at Riverwood. But if I was in Tuscaloosa, I would be complaining about how boring my life is, and thinking how much I want to go discover the world and do something exciting. It’s all a matter of perspective.

What I came to remember last night and this morning is that I’m not here by chance. I’m here in this city, with this program, living with this family and this roommate, at this time, for a reason. My Lord and Savior didn’t live a perfect life and die a perfect sacrificial death to redeem me so that I could just live life randomly, doing what I feel like, with no purpose. I’m here for a reason. Living in Morocco has ended up being harder than I planned, but that doesn’t mean it was a mistake. I miss my friends, my family, and my church, but the Lord is providing me with new friends, new family, and a new church. The Lord is using these experiences to teach me more about Him, to mold me more into His likeness, to make me long for Him even more, and for other reasons that I may never understand. And even when I feel like a miserable excuse for a Christian (which has been a lot lately), I can still rest assured that when God looks at me, He sees Jesus. And even though I don’t really believe this most of the time, I know that God is using me as I am, right now, in all of my shortcomings, failures, and depression for His purposes. I don’t have to be a better person for Him to use me. I don’t have to pretend that I’m not as messed up as I actually am, or try to convince other people that my life as a Christian is all nice and fuzzy. I am a very messed up person, but because of the work of Jesus, I am salt and light, right now, as I am, no exceptions.

"Take delight in the Lord, and He will give you your heart's desires." - Psalm 37:4

Fall Break

I don't even know where to begin. Fall break was incredible, if a bit challenging. I experienced the varying extremes of Moroccan climates, from the snow covered High Atlas mountains to the hot and cold Sahara desert, and everything in between. I had wanted to go to Europe for fall break, but I'm so glad I didn't. Exploring this country that is my home for nine months was mind blowing.

My plans were up in the air until the day before I left, but it worked out perfectly. I went with three friends: Gretchen, Elise, and Zach. We started out by taking a train from Rabat to Marrakech on Saturday morning the 22nd. Once in Marrakech we needed to take a grand taxi to Imlil, the small town where treks to Mount Toubkal (the highest mountain in North Africa) begin. We had an unfortunate slip in judgement in Marrakech and decided to let a taxi driver who approached us drive us to the taxi stand that was five minutes away, after which he proceeded to try to charge us over 3 times too much. Somehow I was the bargainer in our group, and I refused to pay his exorbitant price. I insisted on him agreeing to a lower but still exorbitant price, after which we hashumad (shamed) him. Thus began my battle with dishonest grand taxi drivers. After that fiasco, we finally found a taxi driver to take us to Imlil for a fair price. It was a less than two hour drive, and about half of it through the beautiful Atlas mountains.

In Imlil, we discovered two surprising facts. It was much colder than we thought it would be, and it had just snowed on the mountain tops. I was SO glad that I had brought warm clothes, although they were actually intended for night time in the desert, where it ended up not being that cold, at least compared to the mountains. Once we got to Imlil, we ended up going to a different hostel than the one where we had a reservation, but it actually worked out well as this one was cheaper. It was run by an older French woman, who was alternately very nice and very scary. She had a younger Moroccan man named Abdu as her sidekick and we all speculated about the relationship between the two. Abdu took care of us, cooked for us, and arranged for us to have sleeping bags at the refuge in the mountains where we stayed the next night. I experienced a Moroccan toilet for the first time here, and spent the first of three nights wearing every layer of clothing I could possibly get on my body.

A mountain goat enveloped in fog on our way to Toubkal.

Early Sunday morning we set out for Toubkal. Were were supposed to get to the refuge at the base that day, then summit and return to Imlil the day after. The 4 to 6 hour hike to the refuge turned into 8, and even though it it wasn't said to be a difficult hike, the three of us girls were pretty out of shape (it's really hard to exercise in Rabat), and I had forgotten how hard it is to hike uphill. It was such a beautiful hike. We saw herds and herds of mountain goats, and were continually being passed by donkeys loaded up with supplies for the base refuge. There is no car access in the high recesses of these mountains. We came across the snow right before we got to the refuge. People told us there was a meter of snow on Toubkal, and none of us had any snow appropriate hiking gear. The people at the refuge wouldn't let anyone attempt to summit without gear.

This was the farthest up we got.

That night we chilled around the fire talking to other people from Switzerland, Germany, England, and the States. Even though the refuge we stayed in was pretty nice, it was absolutely freezing - barely warmer than outside. The only source of heat was one fire in the main room, and all the bed rooms were unheated. We spent another night bundled up, but this time we had sleeping bags and heavy blankets.

The sunrise

The next morning I got some great sunrise pictures, and then Zach and I set out to hike up a little ways in the snow. It got really deep really fast, and it was a super steep climb. We made it up a decent ways, took some pictures, then went back to the refuge to thaw out by the fire. We began our hike back that afternoon, and the way down was much more pleasant than the way up. We were given delicious apples by a sweet Berber lady who invited us to her house for couscous, but sadly we couldn't take her up on the invitation because we had to get back to Imlil before dark.

Tuesday morning we taxied our way out of Imlil and went back to Marrakech, where we spent the night and took the first showers of the trip. Marrakech is absolutely beautiful, but we were all exhausted so we didn't do much sightseeing.

Sunset in Ouarzazat

Wednesday morning we took a bus to Ouarzazate, a little less than halfway between Marrakech and Risani (Risani being one of the Moroccan the launch pad for desert trips). Ouarzazat might be the most beautiful city I've seen in Morocco thus far. It's small, quiet, and because it was built as a French outpost, it has a very distinct European feel to it, manifested in the huge streets, pretty lamposts, and a huge central plaza. A lot of movies were filmed here, including Gladiator, Lawrence of Arabia, and Kingdom of Heaven.

Another sunset shot in Ouarzazat

After spending a great evening in Ouarzazaet in a real (but cheap) hotel for the first time on the trip and enjoying more hot showers, we got up super early on Thursday to embark on a very long, very stressful day of getting to Risani in grand taxis. We divided the trip into three different legs, as it's really expensive to get a driver from Ouarzazate all the way to Risani. Bargaining with grand taxi drivers is always stressful, and none of us are used to it, as petit taxis in the cities have meters. This experience was no exception. Drivers constantly tried to charge us twice as much as the ride should be. The last leg was the worst, and at that point were were hot, tired, and ready to get to our destination. When we went to the medina before the last leg of the trip to stock up on water and snacks for the desert, I was harassed by a clearly crazy man who followed us and yelled and made weird gestures. That was freaky. After that we finally agreed on a grand taxi price that was still much too high, but after sitting and waiting for 45 minutes, we just wanted to go.

Finally, that evening we arrived in Risani, where we were completely taken care of by the company that organized our desert trip. Our friends Ana and Joe were there waiting for us, and after a late lunch we all piled into a huge, old, white Range Rover and drove out of the city into the desert. Once we were off of the paved road, we climbed onto the roof, where the view was amazing. We drove to the edge of the dunes where two guides and six camels awaited us. We rode the camels through the dunes just as the sun was setting to a permanent campsite where we spent the night. It was so incredible. Our guides cooked delicious couscous for dinner, and we sat around in candlelight talking and playing games.

Trekkin the Sahara

The craziest thing that happened in the desert is that night it rained! It was only a light shower and didn't last too terribly long, but it was so unexpected. Our guides rushed to put plastic over our tent. Thankfully the rain didn't stay long. The night in the desert was amazing. No electricity, no light other than candle light, and the stars were brighter than I'd ever seen them. It was really windy at one point, and strong wind in the desert is pretty nasty.

Unfortunately, the next morning, Friday, I woke up early throwing up. That was pretty miserable. And no, there was no toilet of any kind there. The dunes were our toilet. In a sense it was nice, because I could vomit wherever I wanted to, but it was pretty gross. I think it was something I ate, because after throwing up for four or five times I stopped, went back to sleep, and felt much better by the afternoon. That afternoon, about the time I was feeling human again, we left the camp on camels and went to the tallest sand dune nearby. We left the camels behind with one of the guides, and the other guide, Mohammed, took us to the very top of the dune to watch the sunset. Such an incredible experience!

Sunset in the Sahara Desert

That night we stayed in a more comfortable camp right outside the dunes. There was a big building with real showers and toilets, and tents with electricity. We had more good food, and I had the best sleep there I'd had on the trip.

Finally, Saturday morning we left the desert and hung out in Risani until our bus left at 7:30 that night. We had a guide show us around and tell us a lot about the Berber and bedouin culture. I bought a beautiful Berber rug made out of cactus fibers and a necklace. That evening we left on the bus to Meknes, then from there (at three in the morning) took the train to Rabat. I got home at 6:30 Sunday morning, and after briefly considering going to church at 9, I decided not to, and I slept until 1:30.

But the saga isn't over yet. Starting around the middle of the trip, I started getting these weird bug bites. They started at my ankles, then it was my wrists and hands, then my stomach, and finally my neck. They itched like crazy and just kept getting worse. Elise and Gretchen had a few, but not as many or as bad as me. We were all afraid it was bed bugs, since some of the places we slept were not exactly luxurious. I was super afraid of bringing bed bugs home (if that's what the bites were from), so when I got home I put all my clothes from the trip in plastic bags and stashed them on the balcony until I figured out what to do. In the meantime I went to the doctor who prescribed some creme and pills, and the bites started getting better. I learned that one way to kill bed bugs is to get them really hot for a long time, like in a dryer. No one owns dryers here - clothes are all air dried. Thankfully there are laundromats with dryers, so I took all my clothes there this afternoon and tried to explain the the lady who runs it that I needed my clothes to go through the dryer twice. I don't know if she'll actually do that or not, but I just hope that any kind of bug I brought home with me will die in the washer/dryer.

Monday it was back to the grind. This weekend our program is going to Chefchaoen and Tangier, which means Friday classes are cancelled, and then we have Monday and Tuesday off for the Muslim holiday Eid al Adha. So excited for the five day weekend!

Things I Love About Morocco

(in no particular order)

1. I love how people know how to enjoy life here. Everything goes at a slower pace and people aren't super stressed out all the time.

2. Being late is normal. No stress!

3. There are no drive thrus, and people barely know what coffee to go is. You sit and enjoy your coffee or meal like a normal person.

4. Moroccan tea - a staple here. It's simple: green tea steeped in mint leaves. It's the only kind of tea I've ever liked sweet, and it's only good sweet. And it's SO GOOD.

5. The food. Chicken tagine with lemon, keftah, harrira, turkey sausage, squash soup...everything is so flavorful and delicious.

6. I love that there is always a jar of nutella on my kitchen table. Yum!!

7. Service at cafes. This is not what you think it means. If you go to a cafe with an American attitude of "the customer comes first, you must serve me and cater to my every need", then you'll hate the service here. But if you're not in a hurry and you know how to relax, the cafe atmosphere and the service are a wonderful part of the culture here.

8. I love how helpful Moroccans usually are.

9. I love how it gets chilly at night.

10. I love how everyone is out at night, even on weeknights.

11. I love hanoots (a tiny shop that sells snacks and drinks). There's one right next to school and the owner is so friendly and likes teaching us Darija.

12. I love the mosaics that are everywhere.

13. I love that Moroccan meals are communal. When we eat with our host family, the main dish is on a plate in the middle of the table, and we all eat from the same plate.

14. I LOVE greeting and leaving people by kissing on both cheeks. I think I'm going to keep doing it when I go home.

15. I love living right next to a mosque.

16. I love Fridays here. One class in the morning, then home just in time to watch Friday prayers unfold, then the best meal of the week with my host family and sometimes a guest, then everyone takes a nap.

17. I also love Sundays here. Everything is so quiet.

18. I love that the drinking age is 18.

19. I love that I don't have to shower every day (well technically I can't shower every day).

20. On that strain, I love that I don't feel gross with greasy hair like I do at home.

21. I love eating dinner at 9:00 pm. There is so much more time in the afternoon and there's no rush to get home for dinner.

22. I love, love, LOVE my roommate Katherine!

23. I love that I don't have internet at home. I waste much less time.

24. I love that I live in a city and thus get to see kids and families often.

I'm sure I'll come up with many more things I love about Morocco in the next eight months!