Ramadan

24 September 2006

Right now I am sitting in my new bedroom above the home of my new host family. I have my own room on top of the roof and believe it or not, it is right next to the sheep. As I look out my tiny window, I can see them in their pen. I am also within clear range of their constant bleating, which has stopped because I think they might be sleeping now. The house is very nice and I think I am very lucky to have my own private bedroom and it seems I have my own bathroom as well, but it has a Turkish toilet and I don’t plan on showering tomorrow because my host mom’s instructions on how to use “l-douche” were in Arabic and involved pointing at this air duct as well as a gas can in a little box. There are four pictures hanging on the walls: two of the father of the household, one of the King of Morocco and his baby son, and the other of two babies dressed up very formally sitting on a fancy gold chair. Also on the roof is a separate apartment where my language teacher is living. This is both great and weird. It’s great because she literally lives two steps away and probably will eat most her meals with my family. It’s weird because she’s right there and I will be seeing her all the time!

My host mom introduced herself to me as Mama, so since I’m not sure what her real name is, I’ve been calling her Mama and she seems to be really happy whenever I do. Mama and I watched tv in the salon for probably six hours today…sometimes trying to talk, but mostly Mama napped on the couch. I have also met my host sister-in-law whose name is Samiya and her son Walid. Walid is four years old and adorable. He’s my little buddy now ever since we played cards this afternoon. We made up a game similar to slap jack, except we were using a Moroccan deck of cards so we hit the ones and yelled “Wahid!” (Wahid means one) He loved it and after a while the game just became slamming the cards as hard as possible on the table and laughing.

Oh, and my new name here is Jamila. Mama and Samiya had a hard time saying my name (every time they tried it sounded a lot like Jelly) so they changed it to something easier! They also told me Jamila means beautiful in Arabic. Sometimes when we have problems communicating (basically all the time) they look at me and say “Smitk Jamila!” and we laugh. (“Your name is Jamila!”)

Today was also the first day of Ramadan, which is the holiest month of the year for Muslims. During Ramadan, Muslims fast during the day, which means no food, water, gum, cigarettes or sex until the sun sets. I kind of fasted today. When I woke up I ate a piece of bread and around 5 pm I ate a few cookies that I found in my purse. We broke the fast around 6:30 and had the sweetest meal ever. It consisted of mint tea, mesumen (which are like pancakes, but much bigger and flatter and tasting nothing like a pancake), sugary dates, bread dipped in honey, and this sugary dessert that was like dough pretzels, kind of. I guess after fasting all day the first thing you want to eat is something that tastes really really good. After breakfast, my language teacher Fatima and I walked to another PC volunteer’s house. Floyd wasn’t there because he was out at a cafe with his host brother, but we visited with his host parents and sisters. One of the sisters was getting henna done on her hands and I was invited back to get henna on my hands sometime soon. I am really excited about this!

So, after visiting with the family for about two hours, Fatima and I walked back to our house. I watched tv (The Last Samurai dubbed in French) with Mama, Ba (my host dad), and Samiya until it was time for dinner. We ate dinner around 10:30 and had some kind of beef stew with vegetables that was really tasty. Keep in mind, there is no silverware here, so everything is eaten with your hands. Usually I will break off pieces of bread to scoop up vegetables or pieces of meat. Also, I can only use my right hand to eat, because it is culturally and religiously unclean to use the left hand while eating. Surprisingly, I am doing okay with this.

After dinner I said my first real sentence of the day “Jamila brigt nes” which means “Jenny needs sleep,” and walked up to bed. Mama asked if I wanted to wake up at 4:00 am to eat the last meal of the night before sunrise. I decided that sleep sounded like a better idea, but I think tomorrow night I will try waking up early just to see what happens at this last meal.

Tomorrow is another big day. My training group of 5 volunteers begins our training at the Dar Chebab. The Dar Chebab literally means the House of Youth and is where we will have our language and culture classes and next week we will begin teaching the youth there. I have to walk all but twenty seconds to get to the Dar Chebab, as it is right across the street. Very convenient.

So far, all the Moroccans I have met have been so incredibly nice. I feel very welcome here and every person has been very patient with my lack of language skills, especially my host family. This town seems very safe and today I met the gendarmes (police) who will be looking out for me while I’m here. But, I’m not too worried about this town, because I have noticed all the households let their children run free in the streets without supervision.

So, I hope this message finds all of you well and I will write more soon! Remember, I’d love to get mail!

Love,
Jenny