To the Marjane (The Moroccan Walmart), the Public Bath and more!

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January 27-28, 2013

To the Marjane, the Public Bath and more!

As we tackle a new language in a completely foreign culture, it is a welcome escape to enjoy some comic relief. Sunday was one such day. Sunday was field trip day. You may ask yourself, “Self… do these youngsters have any day off at all?” The answer is a big, fat, resounding NO!!! The field trip, however, provided a great cultural experience and was really fun. So, although it may not have been a day off per se, it did provide a much needed break from classes. And besides, we have been waiting to do some foreign store exploring after all!!!

Our excursion began with a nice stroll to the local bus station, which is conveniently located at the end of our street. When we arrived, there were about 12 locals of various ages, shapes and sizes. When the bus came, the “mirican”s started to automatically form a nice and orderly line so as to board in a proper turn and fashion… LA!!!! (“la” means no in Darija) As soon as the bus doors opened, it was as if someone lit a fire under the people behind us!!! Our orderly line was dashed to pieces and “mirican”s were sent flying in all directions as the lovely little old ladies elbowed and shoved their way onto the bus ahead of all the stunned visitors! Your authors being among those left in the wake!!! Clay actually took an elbow shot in the ribs from what appeared to be an 85 year old lady! There is no need to say, “No, please go ahead.” Chivalry is not paramount here. So after a quick check of Clay’s now bruised ribs, we made it on board the bus. Now, based upon the behavior of the patrons trying to board this particular bus, you may think that there was a shortage of seats. However, the truth of the matter was, that there were seats for everyone to actually sit and there was no need to push, shove or otherwise injure Clay. Once again, we learn by doing and this was certainly a trial by fire. The money-taker sits in the front row and gives you a ticket after you pay. If you pay with a large bill, you will receive a disgusting look from the money-man as he will have to actually count change and that is just taxing! The price of our bus ticket to the Marjone was about 50 cents US per person. Our ride did not include many stops and the trip was a pleasant 20 minutes or so. However, we could have stayed aboard the bus and gone to Fes for the same price.

The destination for our fieldtrip was the Moroccan equivalent of the Walmart. Now, let us be clear, there is no comparing a southern Super Walmart to anything we have EVER seen in the world, but this was a very large store by most other country standards. It has everything from electronics to groceries and even a liquor store. However, the latter has a sliding steel covering and is only open at certain times. We will not be frequenting that part of the store. To those of you who know us, you must certainly know that we are committed to this endeavor 110% . We did not take any photos while shopping because it would have been extremely awkward. Just picture some wierdos in Walmart taking pictures of the food and other products… creepy. We did not want to be “those” people. Understand that everywhere we go we are already the subject of stares, mostly from natural curiosity. The main mission of this fieldtrip was actually to get usb internet cards. Our houses do not have internet and so our only option was to get the local 3G network for our laptops. The process of obtaining these, very needed items was quite trying. Being foreign, we were subjected to much more scrutiny than would a Moroccan would be. We had passports to show, statements to sign and money to pay. Eventually, it all worked out and we received our internet “sticks.”

One of our other goals (“our” in Darija is “in-tooma”, as in “our goals”) was to find food so that we could prepare the afternoon “snack” and dinner. Traditionally (as in DAILY), the “snack” is served about 5-6 p.m., but it could be as late as 7p.m. Now we know why dinner is served at 10 p.m. or so. Finding the food that we needed and deciding on a menu at the store took a pretty long time. Ann also had to buy supplies for the Hammam (public bath).

Our cart was so full that we could not take the bus back, but we were lucky in that that our host “father” was close by and came to pick us up. We filled his trunk completely with our goods! On the way home (he has a KIA car) the front seats held Clay and our host father (who had his 3 year old driving in his lap) and the back-seat had Ann, Fatima (our teacher), our sister, a big tagine (traditional clay cooking vessel) and bags of miscellaneous items. Should there happen to be a road that has the center line to indicate the lanes, well, it is actually irrelevant. It is clear to Ann, at least, why Peace Corps does not let us drive here. Central America was very interesting as far as the driving habits were concerned, but Morocco has really redefined what we thought we knew as driving on public roads. At times, it is just best to sit back, close your eyes and say, “Inshallah!” (Basically, it’s in God’s hands.)

The afternoon offered a trip to the public bath for Ann and the other girls of the house. Clay graciously offered to make the “snack” for when they arrived home. Understand that for a man to prepare the food at home is REALLY, REALLY out there culturally. Our little brother, Hamza, was REALLY confused, but got over it when Clay showed him how fast he could slice and dice. (Clay really does have mad knife skills!) After the demonstration, Hamza decided that knife wielding was completely cool and very manly. See photographs of the “snack” on the table.

Public bath experience (they have a man side and a woman side) - - for obvious reasons, there are no photographs, so the description is meant to be detailed: Clay has been invited to go in the next day or so, so this experience is all Ann’s. All ages go to the hammam, even babies. You need a big bucket (to hold the water) and smaller bucket (for dipping in and pouring on/rinsing yourself). Also, you need to carry shampoo, soap, scrubbies, gel, razors and whatever else you want to use for your hygiene. Upon entering, the first room is lined with benches. This room is for undressing (you wear your street clothes in) and dressing (more comfy clothes when you leave). The dressing room is not heated. It is not at all private. There are three rooms for cleaning yourself: #1 is cooler, #2 is hotter, and #3 is hotter still. We were in room #2. It is basically a steam room with faucets for hot and cold water. It is not super bright. Starting in room #1, the women pare down to skivvies, no tops. Enter room #2, we filled up the big bucket with water (you pick your temperature with the 2 faucets). You find a place on the cement floor along the wall and sit on a plastic rug or small plastic stool. There is a big drain in the middle of the room for the run-off, so you sit by the wall, so no one gets in anyone else’s runoff.

Although Ann was stared at by many women, it was only curiosity and not because she is deformed or crazy looking. Otherwise, people just go about their business and clean, not only themselves, but each other as well. The cleaning is done in the order of top to bottom of body, then hair. The scrubby I was told to purchase was a bit like sandpaper. Ann has now learned the art of scrubbing until all possible dead skin comes off (tan from Central America, GONE!). If you cannot find a friend or relative to scrub your back, the woman who works there will do it for you. For Ann, the steam was so hot that she used cold water to rinse - - unheard of! This CRAZY act garnered her more stares!

After the cleaning was completed, it was back to the dressing room. I had some pajamas which Fatima said were okay for leaving, over which I wore the jelaba (robe) to walk home. From Ann: While I was dressing, the old woman who worked there tried to ask me some questions, laughing aloud the entire time. She laughed about my pajamas as well as my pronunciation of words, while talking to other women in Darija. I laughed as well and modeled my outfit. Before I left, the woman insisted that I have a head scarf only to “keep hair warm.” See photo of me enjoying our snack with my head scarf on - - my family laughed when they saw me. Clay liked the look!

As for all of the laughing, it is simply Moroccan culture. Moroccan’s laugh A LOT! For example, on TV, we were watching a wolf chase an elk (to eat it!). When the wolf finally caught the elk’s leg and brought it down, “Mama” laughed and laughed. She also was happy to explain to us that the elk does not suffer because the wolf goes right for the jugular. We have read that when big holiday feasts are prepared, as part of the celebration activities, that the lamb is slaughtered by going right for the jugular, too. We will see….

We made a dinner of lemon and caper chicken strips. We plated the whole meal Moroccan style with the chicken in the middle, surrounded by cooked cabbage (your recipe, Kathy), topped with roasted cauliflower and roasted rosemary potatoes (with skin on). All was a really big hit except the potato peel was removed by the host family members while it was being eaten. We happen to think that roasted rosemary red potatoes need to have the little crunch to them… not so much here. Absolutely hilarious to see someone peeling little pieces of roasted potatoes. Also, they never eat cabbage cooked, so it was really interesting for them. It would be like us cooking lettuce. The whole experience was pretty funny. All in all, the dinner was a hit, especially the chicken and cabbage. It was a real pleasure and honor to prepare a dinner for this family who has been so generous and caring towards us.

After dinner (10:30!) we headed for bed. Monday morning we began again at 8:30 a.m. with more language! We probably have a few hundred flash cards at this point, and that is a conservative number. Ann is admittedly frustrated with her pace of language learning. It seems as if there is no time to really study in the traditional form. We get the information and are asked to regurgitate it immediately or the first thing in the morning. However, there is usually only an hour of “free time” to actually study the material. We are keeping our heads above water, but it is a daily struggle. The best learning comes from listening and having our host family show us things, correct us and having the kids look at our books with us.

Monday is laundry day. We are lucky enough to have a family who has a woman come over to wash the laundry and hang it on the line (it only cost $5 US for a whole laundry basket full). This may seem like an easy thing for us to have done, but communicating about our options and then implementing the solution, all the while trying to use our language skills was super challenging. In our small group, some have a house with a washing machine, some people have “Mamas” who do the laundry and some are left to their own hand-washing. Who knows what our final site will hold, but we are sure that Clay will find a solution that does not involve him doing his own hand-washing. Resourcefulness is a virtue that he has in spades when needed.

Tomorrow should be our first day at the youth center (at 5 pm). Exciting news to come!

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