Raining Dirt

Things are still going well here, though most of my news this time is of a negative nature.

It finally rained the other day, after nearly a month of drought, and has been raining in sudden spurts ever since. This is actually wonderful news for the city of Rabat, but for those of us who live in a house without a roof, this presents challenges. Ok, we have a roof, but all of our rooms open onto a central courtyard which is wide open to the sky; so to go from your bedroom to the bathroom, say, you have to go outside. The main inconvenience is not so much in getting wet, but that you have to change shoes every time you want to change rooms, else there would be mud everywhere. We do have a drain in our courtyard and we have been trying to squeegee the water down it, but without much success. Suprisingly, the rain made everything dirtier, since strong winds had kicked up a giant red dust cloud, presumably from the huge construction site across the river. When it rained, the dirt fell out of the sky, and onto our patio. So it's a bit of a mess right now. Nonetheless, we are still sold on the charm of our place.

I had to miss my first class last week because I was vomitting all morning. I was worried it was the flu that was going around (one of the American girls wasn't able to eat for a week), but fortunately (I guess) it was only food poisoning, possibly from a chicken sandwich I got in the medina. The incident will not stop me from buying street food, however. But I may stick to the fish sandwiches as they have caused me no problems. It really sucks to be sick in a foreign country though; it is very lonely, just you and your toilet.

The coup de grace of bad news is that my dog Rocky is sick. He has a lymphoma in his chest which is causing him to cough and breathe poorly. I believe this had been developing for a while, as he began coughing intermittently when we were in California. Bill has been an excellent care giver and has probably spent a fortune at the vet getting various tests and treatments. He is considering chemotherapy but I doubt it would be worth it. After a few days in the hospital, at least Rocky is back home now, and Bill says he is enjoying Jeep rides and visits to Bill's neighbor, Bob, who likes to spoil the dogs grandma-style. As I suspected when I embarked on this journey, I will probably not be able to see Rocky again. But with the miracle of modern technology, at least I've been able to "see" him on Bill's webcam a few times.

To end on a happier note, we did have a Thanksgiving feast last night, at the same girls' house as usual, and I think every American in Rabat might have been there. It was definitely not your typical Thanksgiving, more like a Thanksgiving night club. It was wall to wall people and loud thumping techno music. There was lots of delicious food (though a shortage of silver ware), and I have to say, Molly made the best turkey I've ever had. She has a special "Moroccan" technique (invented right here in our house!) of cooking up onions, raisins, almonds and orange juice into a delightful sauce, in which she pan fried the turkey breasts. In the absence of cranberries, bacon, and an oven, I could not make any of my favorite dishes (my mom's "saucy green beans", my dad's cranberry pear sauce and bourbon pecan pie). So I just brought a simple green bean dish with lemon and garlic. However, the other Americans found clever ways around the limitations, and we did indeed have cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie, apple pie, stuffing, etc.

Final note: I am not sure why hairdressers worldwide think it's acceptable for a woman to walk out of a salon with a mullet. After sporting one for a week, I finally got my hair redone so now it is super short again. It looks fine, though it could use some bright red streaks. If I feel I have already won my students' respect, perhaps I will consider it...

Happy Halloween

On Halloween, the American girls hosted yet another party at their house (which is now just down the street from ours). The expats managed to put together some creative costumes made largely of things found in their suitcases. My Peruvian alpaca sweater came in handy as an "Indian Princess" outfit. Even though the holiday does not exist here , the Moroccans proved to be Halloween pros, showing up as devils, ghosts, Mexicans, the moon, etc. I uploaded pics of this at the end of my online photo album. My dad sent a very cute Halloween care package, which unfortunately sat at the post office for a while before I figured out how to pick it up. So it missed Halloween but we are enjoying the goodies nonetheless.

Though it is still unseasonably warm, the weather has become a bit more fall-like lately, which may account for nearly all of Rabat being sick right now. My students are all sniffling, and I finally succumbed the other day to a small cold. Luckily I have three days off, due to a national holiday on Tuesday, to rest and recover. We also will take the time to fix up the apartment a bit and buy some space heaters before the winter weather hits. Coming home at night to an apartment that is as cold (if not colder) than outside will be interesting...

A few more quirks about Moroccan life that I thought I'd mention:

• The waterheater is a small box connected to a butane bottle; ours is in the kitchen, and at Nazha's, it was outside. You have to light it up before using the shower, and turn it off when you're done. Remembering to do this has been difficult for us, and cost us quite a bit of gas.
• Nearly everyone washes clothes by hand, so laundromats are scarce and quite expensive. It cost $9 for me to do a medium load, though the service was great - I just dropped it off and they did the rest.
• It is perfectly acceptable, in fact preferable to some families, to marry your first cousin. Better than marrying a stranger, they say!
• Extra virgin olive oil here actually smells and tastes like olives. I don't know what they are selling us in the U.S. but it's definitely not first press.
• I bought a box of paper clips from the photocopy place around the corner (where I often end up making copies just before class since at school they make us request copies 24 hours in advance). The guy was scraping the paper clips together from various corners of the store, to ensure I got a full box, though they were all incredibly dirty. I laugh at the fact that I paid money for these every time I see the rusty smudges on the corner of all my papers.
• The students all have a deeply ingrained habit of calling me "Teacher", even though I insist that my name is "Anya" (to which they reply, "Sorry, Teacher"). They use it at the beginning of nearly every sentence. It's maddening. Maybe I will develop a penalty system.