Chefchaouen

Three hours away from Tangier is a little town in the mountains named Chefchauen. Its narrow crowded streets are filled with shops selling all sorts of trinkets. Cheap jewellery to giant authentic works of art. Sadly this town has been exploited by tourism. The little townspeople survive by selling things that tourists would want. The town is also over run with hippies (apperently Morocco is big in the marujuana industry). Chefchauen, lke Assila is also covered with the blue paint that contains cobalt that I guess wards off bugs. I supposedly bought a buffalo bone bracelet from a tribe in Malwai....but then I also think this guy is probably lying to me just to make some Dirhams (the currency in Morocco). I can just see him now laughing and saying "Stupid American!" hahah well at least it looks cute. He also threw in a free leather bracelet. Oh yea, and on a final note it was unbelievably hot and I don't understand how Muslim women can stand to have their heads covered. Its sooooo HOT!

Food, sigh.

Oh Moroccan food. The way the State Department Scholarship program is set up is that we are given two meals (breakfast and lunch) at the school and then we have to use our stipend to fend for ourselves. UNFORTUNATELY, Moroccan food is not like Lebanese food in that it does not have the staples like tabulah, kibah or dolma. After walking just about everywhere I have learned how to navigate my way around the restaurants and such for a dinner.

Super Marche (en francais) or Sooq Momtaaz (meaning Amazing Market in Arabic)

This is the only "super market" in Tangier

...I will continue this at a later time I have to run to class. MUAH!

Assila

About an hour away from the dump that is Tangier is a small town named Assila. My program drove over in a giant tour bus and unloaded at the edge of the town. All 30 of us were herded around my a tour guide who only spoke Arabic (we were told it was Fus-ha but I bet it was really Amia because God knows this man doesn't have any real education).

Assila is located on the coast. This small town is completely foritfied with a stone wall. Inside the walls of this town are houses are all stone and connected. What makes this town unique is that all of the buildings are painted white with blue trim around the windows, doors, and from the base of the house up about four or five feet. This blue paint is supposed to ward of insects from coming into the house because of some mineral in the dye. This blue and white color scheme is pretty asthetically pleasing but the only drawback is the hot beating sun light that reflects off all the white paint and basically blinds you. After squinting for hours and hours I ended up with a headache, and some nice pictures.

Note to self: Wear sunglasses.

Darienchbic

Darija, Arabic, and French. I am a master of zero of these languages. Lucky for me the unofficial language of Tangier is a combination of all three. Darija, is the Berber influenced Arabic spoken in Morocco. This dialect is difficult to recognize with its harsh accent and different terms for standard Arabic words. The dialect doesn't even distantly resemble the Egyptian dialect which is the most universial dialect in the Arab world. To my educational displeasure, Morocco was colonized by the French so nearly everyone in Tangier knows French and will bounce between Arabic, French and Darija, al humdulilah (thanks be to God...notice the sarcasm). In an attempt to resolve this problem I try to avoid the poor, uneducated people of Morocco. A lack of education usually results in zero knowledge of fus-ha or in English, modern standard Arabic, the language that is taught in schools and spoken at the professional, political, and religious level. Unfortunately, education is not at the same level as the US, so I have to resign to struggling through French, Darija, and with a little Fus-Ha. Sigh.

Tea Time: A American's Complaint About Moroccan Cafes

Every morning I walk a mile to the American School in Tangier. Everyday I pass by four cafes. Each cafe has an outdoor patio scene with several tables filled with people. Wait, that description doesn't do the cafe culture justice. The one thing that makes this cafe different from any other cafe around the world is that there are ZERO women sitting and drinking tea or coffee. Do women just not need coffee or a nice break in this area? Apparently thats what these people think. I have gone to cafes with other girls in my program and expericenced gawking, whispering and other annoying forms of harassment and objectification. I can just see myself now jumping over a table to strangle one of the thousands of rude Moroccan men. I think I could blog about my experiences everyday with all the harassment I experience, so be prepared. Sigh. I am so glad to be an American.

kul al-yom kal iyam!

Rough translation of ALL DAY EVERYDAY! because that briefly describes my life in Tangier. All day, everyday I study Arabic. I have been running on approximately five to six hours of sleep every night. I feel like I am in college, the only thing that is missing is my giant cup of Starbucks. My class is going well. I placed in the the Intermediate II class which was a little higher than I expected but I will stay in it, I do not mind the challenge.

My program is staying in this two star hotel. I am beginning to realize this as I am being bitten by some sort of bugs. I have three bites now...hopefully they will stop soon. Another room has cockroaches, I haven't decided if I should consider myself lucky. Our "hotel" is located on the conservative side of Tangier. The conservative side can be distinguished from the modern side by the women's dress. The conservative side is dominated by the jalaba and hijab. A jalaba is, in short, similar to Harry Potter wizarding robes with a little Middle Eastern twist. The hijab is the head scarf that I am sure everyone is familar with from CNN and Fox News. Modern city has a lot of stores and restaurants whereas the traditional side is dominated by cafes and small bakeries. The only thing consistent between these two sides are the rude men who enjoy gawking at me, making kissy faces, saying things in languages I don't know or things in languages I do know. I was told not to respond to any of their jestures but I am may just lash out and punch on in the face. I can understand cultural differences but I will NOT pretend that blatant objectification of women is okay. Sigh.

I love you all israti hulwa!

Day One

June 13th, 2007
6 am Central Time

Traveled.

Plane was delayed. TWICE.

Met people in group.

Some were weird.

Example of weirdness: "I have this obsession with genocide" -Some chick

A lot of indecisive people.

Somewhat annoyed.

Comfy bed.

Sleeeeep.