Lasting Impressions: Errachidia

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“I have nothing to say, I am saying it, and that is poetry.” -John Cage

My experience in Errachidia was definately different from my life in Kelaa. I got to see the big family all together and learned a lot more about gender roles - Maryam and Hichem aren't always typical in some respects. One of my favorite learning experiences was when I was asked (for the millionth time) if I was married. This particular questioner was an elderly friend of Mama Zineb who appeared at the door wrapped entirely in a sheet with only her giant 80s glasses peering out. She was accompanied by her 23 year old daughter. I wasn't surprised by the question as sometimes I am asked if I am married before they even know my name. Priorities are different here. I gave the usual answer of 'la' - a plain and simple 'no'. I was quickly corrected with 'mazal' - not yet. Usually I just go along with it, but this time I felt like joking around a bit and trying to get some sort of reaction out of the woman. I responded with, 'la, mashi mazal' - no, not not yet. She looked confused so I decided to try to emphasize my point and added 'ana ferhana bwahadi' -I'm happy alone. This brought laughter which I wasn't sure meant that they agreed or thought I was joking because a woman can't possibly be happy alone. I tried telling them that I was too young, which always gets rejected. In Morocco I am definately not too young to get married. When they told me I would want babies but that by then my body would be too old I told the I can just adopt. This got puzzlement, but no laughs. My comments were repeated over and over until I came up with a new angle that I thought would also get some laughs. I told her I would only marry a man who already had three wives because that way he would be too busy to pay any attention to me and I could continue my life with 'huryia' -freedom. They liked this idea and I felt safe from their match making since few men are rich enough to have two wives, let alone afford a fourth. Polygamy is illegal according to the new family code law (as far as I know) although I have heard it does exist in some small communities.

I spent a lot of time sitting around drinking tea and talking with the extended family, which makes me stir crazy with my real family and was much more strenuous in Arabic with people I had just met. I tried every day to find an excuse to get out of the house, since it's perfectly normal for women here to never go out. In Kelaa at least I have the Dar Chebab to go to, or the post office or the internet café. In Errachidia I had to come up with other reasons to leave the house. Luckily another volunteer, Anne, lives there and Cara's family had traveled to town just like mine had. I managed to meet up with them a few times and one day spend all morning sitting in a café with Cara reading David Sedaris stories out loud back and forth to each other. It was cold, but so nice to get out of the house!

One day I was asked if I wated to go out to the 'bled' to see Mama Zineb's husband's house. Hichem's mother lives in the center of town, where the family has always lived, but as soon as her husband retired he bought a little house out of town in a little duwar, claiming to have always hated the city. Hichem drove his mother, bother SiMohammed, Maryam and me out to the bled house, which really wasn't far from town at all. It was beautiful out there and I immediately understood why he had moved. We were there in the evening, so after touring the back yard with it's pens of goats, quintessential sheep, chickens, open cistern that is cleaned out in the summer and used as a swimming pool, we went back out to the front of the house and I sat on the stoop with SiMohammed and watched the refecting pink on the already red hills to the east. They looked so much like the Owhyees I felt homesick and at home at the same time.

There were several children perpetually running around Mama Zineb’s house, but one of them really caught my attention: Imane. She is the first child of Hichem's sister Khadija and is probably about 12. I helped her with her French and English homework and she taught me little jokes and sayings in Arabic. She was a lot of fun and we even went out on the town together: I was shopping for envelopes and she needed a ruler. We managed to visit several bookshops before she found one she liked. It was a lot of fun running around town with her. I didn't have to worry about trying to say things correctly because she never commented when I used the wrong word in Arabic.
Another moment that made me pinch myself, wondering if this was another elaborate dream, involved me listening to Lucero with Moroccans. Lucero is one of my favorite bands, though not well known, even in the States. Hichem’s brother has a large collection of traditional Moroccan music, called Beldi, on his computer - he is probably the most skilled pirate and hacker I have ever met. I like knowing what sorts of music comes out of the mountains here and generally prefer it to the screechy ‘popular’ music that comes from Egypt and Lebanon. The brother was burning me some CDs of Beldi and I thought I should at least show him the few CDs I had brought to listen to in the car. I doubted he would be interested in any of them but though it proper to offer. Trying to describe Lucero with a word I thought he might know I called it ‘country,’ which it sort of is, in a way. We put it on and I found myself translating the lyrics of “My Best Girl” into French, wondering if I was capable of translating them into Arabic yet.
Leaving Errachidia, a bit later than we had wanted to get on the road, we went back to Kelaa on a slightly different route. We had come one of the longest routes, from Kelaa east towards Beni Mellal, but cutting off before town and heading north through Fqih ben Calah, Oued Zem, Rommani, and Maaziz, spending the night in Khemisset. The next day we headed east to Meknes, and finally south to Azrou, Midelt, Rich and Errachidia. On the way home we backtracked to Midelt and cut off a little further on at Zeida through the mountains over roads that were paved in parts. The snow was ground down to slush on the road but still covered the hills. The Atlas are spectacular. I have never seen anything like it, can’t compare them to any other mountains I have seen. We emerged onto a more decent road just south of Khenifra and had a straight shot back to Kelaa through Beni Mellal.
Note, the spellings of these town names are taken off the Carima road map and subject to typos, mistakes on the map, and of course, bad transcription from Arabic script.

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Photos

Family Portrait
Cara took some photos of me with Maryam and Hichem since my camera is still on strike.

Comments

[WildChild]

Excellent!!
I love reading your comments. I'm learning a lot about Morocco just from reading. Loving the detail. XOXO