Ta'agine for the soul

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As predicted, I'm useless at updating this shit as things happen. As a result, I'm going to have to rely solely on my memory to recount the last 4 or 5 days, which have unfortunately been blurred in several places and times due to far too many pre-outing gin and tonics. Anyways here goes:

Tuesday 3rd of June was the second day of classes. To be honest, these classes are a little dull and its far too hard to actually concentrate for 4 hours straight, especially when Mme Calvet could probably recite all of Shakespeare's works in one sitting without ever pausing. Obviously if she's talking I get to improve my listening skills but as far as trying to become more lucid orally there hasn't been much opportunity. I actually became a pseudo-hero for the class when my request for an extra 15 minute break during class was granted! On the plus side she's a really sweet native Aixoise, albeit with a raging addiction to cigarettes and a slightly cruel sense of humor - if she ever catches you speaking in English during class she'll make you sing a complete song in French first thing next morning, melody and all! Had a close call that day actually but with some skill and charm I managed to convince her I was just asking for the meaning of an English word!

Highlight of the day was meeting up with Rashid, Zouah and some other Moroccans and French guys to play some six on six football at the local grounds. I brought along some of the other guys who are here from the US - David Fields, Zach Hancock and Brian Bentley - class guys with the first two from Atlanta and the latter from New York. We quickly found out that all of us share a love for the aforementioned gin and tonic, which has since been the cause of a a fair few nights of mayhem. One thing that I have noticed here is that people's sense of humor quickly adapts to what is most commonly deemed 'funny' by a particular group. For example, shit talking with these guys is a lot different to what I'm used to, with more of it directed towards questioning sexuality and attacks on the family as opposed to those on personal character. I just realized how lame this may sound to a reader - formalizing shit talking but still, I find it quite interesting from a socio-anthropological point of view. But as usual, I digress.

We mixed everyone up for the game and just played some highly intense but thoroughly enjoyable street-style football for about 3 hours straight. Ever since I messed up my knee, finals and other things over the past several weeks, finally getting to run around till I literally couldn't walk anymore was just what I needed. As for me, I managed to play a decently good game, knocked in one or two goals myself but I can't kid myself too much - the locals were just whizzes with the ball and I eventually found out that Rashid was actually an ex-professional player in the Moroccan league. Somehow I managed to completely wreck my right big toe and right now its taken on a disturbing shade that could only be described as snot-like. Rashid assured me that the greenish-blue-black just meant the nail had died and would eventually fall off. Great.

Wednesday wasn't that eventful apart from another session of football, this time with the bunch of eight or so Malays and the ubiquitous Swedes. Wasn't as much fun for me because by this time I really couldn't kick the ball without clutching my foot for a good 5 minutes after! Fast forward to Thursday evening and Rashid has invited me over to his place for a dinner for a traditional Moroccan ta'agine, with a bit of a French twist. The name is actually a bit misleading because ta'agine just refers to the earthen plate in which its cooked. All it really is is a melange of vegetables, huge legs of chicken, garlic, spices that are essentially fried / steamed until done and then garnished with french fries. As opposed to the traditional Arab bread we ate it with baguettes but it was still absolutely delicious.

Almost comparable to the food was the discussion that followed. I neglect to mention that apart from myself, present were Angela and Stephanie, Rashid's slightly older French girlfriend. I learnt earlier that since meeting her, Rashid has toned down from his glory days as a drinker and serial womanizer. However, being a Muslim, he asserts that his change of heart was more the direct cause of a revival in his studies of the Quran, which he now takes more seriously and, a bit strangely, a bit more literally. This in particular proved to be the primary muse for our conversation. Personally, I do not practice any religion and nor do I plan on doing so in the foreseeable future, perhaps fortunately or unfortunately I feel due to my education and inner reflections thus far. Either way, Stephanie mentioned that she would, necessarily, convert to Islam if she were to marry Rashid, in response to which I teasingly asked him if he would force her to wear a hijab. He answered, and this is as direct a literal English translation as I can provide, was "No I would not force her, but I would be obliged as her Muslim husband to keep reminding her of the virtues of the hijab." Now to me, that's just a rosy way of saying "I'm going to guilt trip her into doing what I believe is right." And so ensued a long discussion and at times heated exchange of ideas about this and other tenets in Islam. To me, religious discussions are almost like a game I play in my head, where I square off against a believer and try to see just how much they believe. As far as I'm concerned, if you're going to endorse something like religion, you better be in it all the way down to the last letter or else admit that there some things that you disagree with, in which case you can't really call yourself a true follower of that faith. (I don't mean to offend anyone but that's just wishful thinking.)

So apart from being intellectually stimulating, that discussion was really just another opportunity to improve my French, which I have noticed I'm becoming more and more comfortable. Stephanie, gentille as ever, granted me a huge complement when she said I spoke with only a trace of an accent. More excitingly, I have now been welcomed with open arms to Rashid's home in Marrakesh whenever I get the chance. As much as I like the guy, I think he's taken a real shine to me as well! His sister Leila should be returning to Aix this week and I've been told that her cooking is just phenomenal - with everything being so bloody expensive here, some more free meals are always welcome.

Unfortunately, I'm going to cut this blog a little short and continue tomorrow - already pretty late and I still have to upload some more photos from this weekend - went to Nice and Monaco and have some really good stories about that! A tout a l'heure.

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