The other night Omar motioned for me to put down my book and get out of bed. Downstairs, he motioned for me to follow him to the door; he motioned for me to hurry up, y'allah; and then like that we were in the alley outside our home. Omar, putting a finger to his head, motioned for me to wait, went back inside, and returned in moments with a black umbrella. Then, like that, me, Omar, and Hal (a Wisconsonian who, along with Eric, a Minnesotan, is temporarily living with us, who clearly tagged along) were walking down Hassan II at [View Full Entry]

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You're allowed--during off-prayer hours--to go into the Grand Mosque of Hassan II in Casablanca. We did that this Saturday. The Mosque is on a promontory jutting out over the Atlantic. It is one of the biggest in the world, etc. You walk across this dizzyingly wide and long courtyard, the kind that tilts, which courtyard is busy with (but not filled by) lots of children let loose and pairs of old people and pigeons (which pigeons are perched on the stadium lighting). A laser beam shines from the Minaret towards Mecca every night. There is an elevator in the minaret, which [View Full Entry]

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I was playing with Reda in the indoor-outdoor courtyard in our house yesterday. I'm not sure I know how to describe what went down. First, though, let me describe what happened immediately preceding that with my sister (who is turning 21 the same day as me, as in we were born the same day in world history; as in, as my mother here put it, there will be food and joy from wall to wall). She is the sister who attends Mohammed V University, majors in English, has a tantalizingly beautiful 5 month old baby (I haven't had the balls for [View Full Entry]

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As I write this I am watching television with a woman who I don't know who she is. The Ninja Turtles (of course?) are on. Ninja, ninja, she says to me. How else do I respond: turtle? Now, she is watching a daft punk music video (I've never actually seen this video, they do a lot here I stopped doing a long time ago, like Super Mario and drinking milk, though I have taken shots to its beat at school). I don't understand. She looks really interested. I just figured out from her explanation that she is a teacher at the [View Full Entry]

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A few days after the hammam, Yamine, who is Michael's 30-something brother, who is the only one of his four brothers not to emigrate to Europe, who lives in a narrow tower of a three-story house with his parents, both of whom are bedridden with diabetes, took us--me, Michael, and a guy on my trip from Botswana, Leungo, who goes to Williams--to a sheesha bar. You found this bar (of course?) through an unmarked door right there on Mohammed V, the main avenue, two flights up, to the left (not the right: that's something else, which we weren't allowed to know [View Full Entry]

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I went to the hammam for the first time last week. This is like the public bathhouse (though it's not quite that: less adornment, more implied luxury), where, if you are the typical Moroccan, you go once a week to clean yourself. Separate ones for men and women, of course. The one my brother, Abbas, and my little brother, Omar, took me to was a few blocks from our house; you got in, as you get into most places worth getting into here (you'd never find it without Moroccan brothers, that is), through an unmarked door several feet below ground level. [View Full Entry]

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"Twinkling" is an "American situation". That is, according to this guy, Shafie, who I am teaching Spanish in exchange for Arabic and French, and who occasionally tells me with the sincerest most curious smile to read the Qu'ran ("it will improve you"...just by reading it; this, I think, is a distinctive Muslim belief [good for illiterate peoples, by the way, which Mohammed was, or people who don't speak Arabic, which most Muslims don't]...that is, that it can almost physically change you without your understanding it), who works at L' Hotel Majestic, where we stayed the first week, and who eat [View Full Entry]

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The first weekend with the family, the Blidis. Three brothers: 17, 11, 6; a sister, 20, who has a daughter, 5 mos, which daughter lives with us, though the sister does not (she lives with her much older husband, who is very protective of her, though never touches her...though she is an English major my year at Mohammed V university and does not wear the veil or anything, and would hate to have lived, like, 20 years ago. I guess me too). The 17 year-old brother and the sister are the only ones who really speak English, so the 17 year-old [View Full Entry]

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I went to a bar last night. Legally, no alcohol can be served to Muslims, which I'm still not sure who, or why, that law appeases (since they drink, if they want, though many who you think would don't). Laws made to be broken, etc.--no that's facile...the thing worth telling here is that we met two Moroccan guys who brought us to this bar and after, when we were paying, I had a big bill; I was collecting smaller bills; I messed up the math, of course, wasn't paying attention, didn't give them their right change..and they became immediately upset. But [View Full Entry]

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There are several students on my trip who are the children of people in foreign service--diplomats, the army. An e.g.: Alex spent two years in Cote D'Voire; two in Turkey; two in London; two in Bethesda, MD. Speaks three languages. Belongs nowhere, sort of. Can you really say this isn't for everyone? It produces a helluva person, at least. [View Full Entry]

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