a morocco adventure: herr shiitake's blog

But the lfurno, in all its blazing glory, is delightful.

First it was the frozen toothbrush.

Then went the pipes.

Walu rubini g lbit lma, Hašakum! (No running water in the bathroom, pardon my impoliteness!)

And still no running water in the bathroom (as of print), after about five days – must be the open exposure/vulnerability to the wind, as the running water in the kitchen returned after a day.

 

 

 

I could barely open my front door, as there was a good 40+ cm (~16in) of snow pushed up against the door in droves.

  

However, after an initial frustratingly steep learning curve in starting the wood-burning stove with just paper and cardboard, I have now come to relish in its aforementioned blazing glory.

Starting a fire from scratch isn’t such a chore now, and I can maintain my bedroom pretty comfortably at around 76° F (24° C), hitting a record 84° F for a few minutes. I’ve also been treated to some ifssi from a neighbor, a low-growing thorny scrub brush used as a fire starter and one of the only forms of vegetation that still grows on the mountainside, being inedible to the grazing sheep and goats as well as able to survive the lack of precipitation.

With ifssi, starting a fire is now as easy as snap, crackle, and pop.

 

 

 

For the first time, I find myself muttering, “Man, it’s hot!” and being forced to undress down to just a T-shirt (unspeakable!).

  

 

 

 

 

The waterfall.

  

 

 

 

So I had my friend Mustapha take a picture of me. I smiled and made what I feel is a natural pose. He would have none of this, instructing me to kneel into what might be considered a Moroccan photo pose, as I’ve seen this over and over when shown pictures from Moroccans…

  

Hakak, nk amġribi! [There you go, I’m Moroccan!]

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Souq. Merchants put down a tarp and sell fruit, vegetables, tea, oil, dates, peanuts, metal utensils, and such.

  

 

The road from my village to souq. Much of it is new; the paved road through my village has been in place for one year. Before it was all piste – dirt road.

  

 

A glimpse of the town where I go for internet access about twice a month…and cheese! - a little over three hours away by Transit (pictured above is a rather nice one; these are crammed with up to 20 people...or eight people, but with five cows - two formidable bulls and three calves). Notice the utterly decadent tiling, fanciful window awnings and metal dressings, as well as the paved road wide enough to fit more than one vehicle! (In the countryside, most paved roads are about the width of 1.5 vehicles, meaning whenever two vehicles cross each other, one, the other – or both, on occasion – have to swerve off to the shoulder to avoid crushing each other’s side view mirror. It’s great fun!

After an unfortunate lull in cooking output, partly due to laziness and partly due to the 40°F kitchen, I’ve resumed my culinary efforts in stride.

Recently I’ve discovered the secret to getting really “plump” fat bread – adding a pot of steaming water underneath the flame in the oven while baking the bread. It makes the product into more of a fat bread than a pseudo-croissant. The resultant consistency is perfect for eating tajines by hand with bread, as is the observed custom at all Moroccan dinner tables (which is itself an acquired skill, especially to do so relatively cleanly, not letting your whole hand devolve into an oily, greasy mess).

I’m also pleased to report that I’ve now taught English successfully three times in a row at my local association’s building! It’s been almost three months in the running, but it looks like I may have an audience of 6-8 men that are motivated and will keep with it, inshallah.

Before my first session at 3pm, I went to the center of town around 2 o’clock and tried to recruit some people to come – people with whom I had spoken before about my teaching English. Their responses were mostly, “inshallah”, which made me somewhat pessimistic that anyone would show, or alternatively that only two people would show and would then not want to come again, with such a small audience.

So it was with great and warm surprise that around 3:05pm, three guys showed up to the association. Over the next fifteen minutes or so, four more guys strolled in, making a total of seven men for my first English lesson!

The next week, despite two of the original men being out of town, I had eight men show up, both on the second and third class. I guess word is slowly spreading that “Bassou Mirikani” is teaching English, as I find myself greeting new students at each new lesson. I think I may have also found a new student in the form of the local nurse, who speaks Arabic and French fluently, but wants to speak English really well one day, inshallah.

The third lesson I held a lmunafasa [competition], dividing the audience into 2 groups and having a pseudo-Jeopardy game, asking a total of 31 questions like, “What is the opposite of small?”, “How do you say, ‘Manis tddud?’ in English?” (Answer: Where are you going), and “Name four answers to ‘How are you?’”, which was a big hit. I gave the winning team some Lifesavers and Jolly Ranchers.

There was even expressed interest in extending my English lessons another day – for a total of three days a week, two hours per lesson. For now, I will teach twice a week, and see how things progress over the coming weeks.

But things are looking upwards, workwise.

There might be a bathroom installation project in the works, and I found someone in my souq town who is fluent in English and might be a possible tutor, to improve my Tamazight and help with translation – particularly as I need/want to start prepare some health lessons before I begin teaching at my local elementary school.

Well…that’s all folks.

Thanks for reading. Always love to hear back from family, friends, and readers!