Spelunk!

Last (and best!) weekend in Fez:

On Saturday, some friends and I went to Taza for a brief day trip with the intention of visiting the Tazzeka National Park, walking in the cedar forest and maybe seeing some monkeys. Plans changed when we accidentally went spelunking in the deepest cave in North Africa, Gouffre du Friouato. In fact, this cave is so big, no one knows exactly how far down it goes because it hasn't been explored completely. Though we were slightly underdressed for this adventure, we didn't let it get in the way of finding our inner spelunkers. We didn't get to see the forest of cedars, or the monkeys, but I think after spending three days in Marrakech I've seen enough monkeys and snakes to last me a while.

Going in

View from the bottom

Walking planks across giants pools of water, then holding the guide's hand as he lead us across a 2-inch ledge that separated us from water on the right, and a giant hole on the left

Walking back up the 720 steps to exit the cave after 2 hours inside. We were filthy.

When we finally made it out, our driver had lined the inside of the taxi with big sheets of cardboard. We had intended to continue with our adventures, but instead asked to be taken directly back to Fez so we could shower, wash our clothes, and eat. Two hours of hairpin turns down the mountain, listening to the same ear-splitting song over and over, we made it back to the Villa and immediately showered and went to Sicilia's for pizza and spaghetti.

Time in Fez is running out quickly. I still can't believe I've been here almost three months.

B'salama,
Danielle

Marrakoosh

If you can believe it, I finished my last class at ALIF last Friday. Whoot!

About three hours after said-class, I boarded a train with some friends from school, and off we went to Marrakech. Eight sweaty, long hours later, we found ourselves in Djemaa el-Fna, which is the main square of the medina. In three nights we were in Marrakech, we were able to

• Get hassled relentlessly by vendors
• Eat a fresh donuts strung together by a blade of grass in the Mellah
  
• See nearly every cemetary in Marrakech
• Go to a Moroccan wedding
• Get hit by a car
• Visited the Jardin Majorelle and see the Islamic Art Museum
• Eat the best chwarama in Morocco for 20dh
• Walk some more
• See the snake charmers
• Eat chocolate and watch Flight of the Conchords from my ipod
• Eat at another restaurant where the service was so good we forgot we were in Morocco

In the Mellah

Funny sign for the hammam

After Kendell left us early Monday morning so she could make it to her afternoon class, Yan and I split up the eight-hour train ride be stopping in Casablanca for the night. There, we:

• Walked around some more, because apparently that's our favorite thing to do
• Saw the Hassan II Mosque, which is not only the second largest mosque in the world, but has the world's largest minaret, a laser that points to Mecca, AND a glass floor over the Atlantic ocean
• Passed by Rick's Café
• Walked through the medina
• Walked even more along the Atlantic
• Ate tapas and paella which tasted suspiciously like gumbo
• Ate more donuts
  

Hassan II Mosque at night

More pictures are here and here.

Now I'm back in Fez, sitting and enjoying my last week in Morocco before I go back to the States and face the real world. Tonight there are tentative plans of seeing an movie at the cinéma, and tomorrow the plan is to take a day trip to Taza, a Berber town about an hour and a half away by train or grand taxi. From there, we'll head over to the cedar forest, which is home to the Barbary ape. I haven't decided what else to do with the rest of last week in Morocco, but that will come later. Today, I had my last couscous Friday in Morocco. Tear.

B'salama,
Danielle

Family Schmamily

After three nights with the host family, I decided it wasn't for me, and swiftly made my way back to the Villa. Don't get me wrong; living with a family was a wonderful experience. The family was sweet and kind, the mother was a wonderful chef, and they were extremely respectful of my privacy (which, apparently, can be quite rare amongst Moroccan households), but I couldn't get used to having a new set of "parents" to check in with all the time. I've been living in this country for over two months on my own time, on my own schedule, and to be living on someone else's agenda was a bit too much for me. Now, I am living in the Villa for the rest of my stay in Fez--which is only two days from now--and then off I go to the South. Oh well, I guess it just wasn't meant to be.

After moving back into the Villa, I've had nothing but nonstop Moroccan magic falling in front of me. Friday consisted of couscous with one of my friend's host mother, Fatima. The couscous was by far the best I've had yet, which only got better when it was followed by tea, cookies, and a henna party, which was held in preparation for Kendell's birthday party, scheduled to take place the next day. Even though Kendell was turning twenty-four, her party was more similar to that of an eight-year-old's, but despite that, it was the best birthday party I've been to since I can remember. We sat around and danced with a live ganawa band, ate cookies, drank mint tea, ate more cookies, drank coffee, ate cake, and danced some more until our bodies could no longer take the abuse.

Kendell, the birthday girl, and me with our henna hands. After getting the paste on, Fatima wrapped our hands in toilet paper and then covered them with socks so as to keep the paste on longer, which yields a darker henna stain.

close-up of my henna

After eating our weight in confections, I went to Chefchaouen with a few friends from school. Chefchaouen is a little city about four hours north by bus, known for its blue walls and mountains. There, we managed to go hiking on the trails, tour the Kasbah, stay in a 50 dirham hostel where the sheets were constantly slightly damp, drinks lots of coffee, and eat lots of candied peanuts. My friend Yan and I met a man who called himself Rashid Couscous; he sold blankets of "a thousand colors", wanted to trade Yan "a thousand camels for [my] smile", and then ended our meeting with "a thousand thank-yous". He was possibly my favorite part of Chefchaouen, coming close to our hike to the ruined Spanish mosque.

Jimmy, beginning the ascend to the top of the mountain

View from the minaret

In other news, but still very important, Jordana made it to Nepal! I'm so excited that she and I have been lucky enough to undertake such adventures at the same time. The Grodek clan is currently touching three continents right now, yaa Allah! Pretty soon the world will be saved--or at least a little part of it--one Grodek at a time.

B'salama,
Danielle

Sorry for the Delay

I've been absent for the past couple weeks, and I feel bad for this because so many things have happened within the past two weeks that I don't even know how to begin describing them. Firstly, I had my trip to Rome and got reunited with Nick, my good friend from high school. It was wonderful. I spent the first three days walking around the Eternal City with Nick and a few of his other friends in the same program from Dartmouth, then spent the next three days exploring on my own. I saw all the standard things, like the Pantheon, the Roman Forum, the Colosseum, as well as Villa Adriana in Tivoli, and Pompei, which I've wanted to see since the third grade. I also ate more pork than I've eaten in the past two years combined. Let me tell you, if living in a Muslim country doesn't make you appreciate a good slab of bacon, nothing will. I wished I'd written more about my experiences in Rome while it was still fresh in my memory, but instead I'll provide some pictures. This sort of trip was so wonderful, I think it can only be described in photographs anyway. Click here and here and here and here and here and here but not here

Another important event in my life occurred yesterday. I moved out of the Villa and in with a Moroccan family, as I've been wanting to do since the first day I got to Fez. The family is lovely; there's a mom, a dad, a sister named Kenza who's studying at the university in Fez, Hamza, who's 19 and studying to be a hairdresser, Meriam, who's 17 and wants to go to college in America after she graduates this spring, Mohamed, who's 9, and Abdu, who's 4 and always wants me to draw farm animals for him. They live in an adorable apartment in the Ville Nouvelle, about a fifteen-minute walk from the school. I've only been there a day, but so far it's going very well. The mother is an excellent chef, and yesterday she made the best chicken tajine I've ever eaten. My plan is to stay with them until the end of the term, which is next Friday, then off I go to explore the rest of the country I haven't had the chance to see yet. I can't believe the end of my journey is coming so soon How did this happen? Where did the past two months go?

In the next few weeks while I'm abroad, I'm going to try my best to continue blogging regularly. It's not much longer until I'm reunited with the things I miss most like my family, my friends, the promise of a western-style toilet, and bacon, wonderful, delicious bacon.

B'salama,
Doonyaa

Food b'zef!

Another cooking class last night. Unfortunately, I had to miss it, but I got rave reviews from the other ALIFers that this recipe is a keeper. So here ya go!

Layla's Chicken and Prune Tagine:

2 1/2 kilos chicken
5 medium onions, chopped small
1 medium tomato, grated
1 bulb garlic, pressed
1/2 cup fresh coriander, minced
1/2 cup fresh parsley, minced
2 1/2 tablespoons ginger powder
1 tablespoon grounded black pepper
1/2 teaspoon Moroccan saffron
1 1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup olive oil
1/2 cup vegetable oil
2 cups water

Add all ingredients to a large pot, chicken on the bottom, bring to a boil, then simmer for 25 minutes. Add 5 more cups of water, then bring to a boil again. Lower heat to medium and cook for 30 minutes.

Prunes:

3/4 kilo (5 cups) prunes, rinsed
8 cups water
heaping teaspoon cinnamon

Add all ingredients to a medium-sized pot. Bring to a boil, then simmer for 30 minutes. Prunes will expand (done when fully plumped). Drain water from pot, but do not rinse.

Put back over medium heat and add:

2 cups of Tagine broth
3 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon

Cook for 5 - 10 minutes.

Final Preparation:

Arrange chicken on a large platter and ladle broth mixture over the top, filling the bottom of the platter. Pour prunes over all and serve with plenty of bread.


Notes:

Beef or lamb may be substituted for the chicken.

Serves ~ 10

Thanks to Laura for taking notes!

In a couple hours, I'm off to Rome. Wish me luck!

B'salama, Ciao!
-Danielle

À la discothèque

It's been a little while since my last post, and the, "Where are you? How are you? Are you alive?" emails from relatives started pouring in the other day, so I figured that was my queue to make another blog entry. This weekend, a lot of the people on six-week programs are leaving Fès for bigger and brighter things in other parts of the world, so this past weekend we tried to have one last hoorah....at the discothèque....in Fès. The plan was that Julian and I would go eat dinner at a friend's house in the medina, while Tim, Hannah, and Krista went to another friend's house and then later we'd all meet up at the disco. Apparently, this was not inshah'Allah, and Julian and I never met up with our friends. Instead, we had the most random eight-hour long adventure that resulted in us: A.) eating the best food in Fès, prepared by a 50-year-old Moroccan man who talked about Cambodia b'zef (a lot, in Darija) B.) dancing to crazy Arabic music, also b'zef C.) listening to another Moroccan man talk about the Tuareg people D.) watching this same man balance a glass on his head, over and over E.) stuffing six people in a petit taxi (mind you, they're only supposed to passenger three) F.) speaking b'zef, b'zef Français G.) getting home at 6am.

After this night of crazy, random adventures, I've spent everyday since then hiding in my room, trying desperately to remember all the events that took place. I don't even know where to start though.

On a completely unrelated note, tomorrow evening I'll be leaving Fès for a week to travel to Rome. Nick, my friend since the fifth grade, is studying abroad there and I'll be visiting with him, eating massive amounts of pasta and gelato, meeting new people, and inshah'Allah, enjoying a nice break from Morocco.

Also unrelated, my lovely sister Jordana is leaving for Nepal in less than a month! This is Jordana

and this is her blog.

B'salama,
Danielle

Scooter Date in Review

By far the best date I've been on in Morocco. After class yesterday, Megan and I ate lunch at the Villa, then hopped on her scooter and headed the 30km to Sefrou, a little berber village up by the mountains. After loosing my sunglasses; getting directions from a police officer who refused to speak only in French with us, despite telling him we speak Arabic; and a few potholes, we made it to Sefrou. We found some cascades, walked around the medina, searched in vain for new sunglasses, drank coffee and tea in a café, watched the public baker make dread, and stumbled upon my new favorite flea market, where I bought boots for 10dh each. Then we scooted around the village some more, and headed back to Fès. On the way we saw a sign for Bahil, another berber village higher up the mountain. We made our way up to Bahil, which had a beautful lookout point, and scooted back down the mountain and back to the Villa.

Oh, and here are some more pictures from my date with Megan.

Tonight, Laura, Megan and I have plans to make a Greek dish I can't remember the name of. Greek food?! Hemdill Allah.

B'salama,
Danielle

All I do is eat?!

The end of the fourth week of classes was today, and I'm still pinching myself in disbelief. I can't believe I've already been here a full month! Where did the time go? What have I been doing with my time? Last weekend Gilli and I went on a mini adventure to Meknès, Volubilis, and Moulay Idriss, which is the holiest city in Morocco. According to Lonely Planet, five trips to Moulay Idriss is equivalent to one haaj to Mecca.

On Sunday, Gilli left to travel to the South with her Mom, and a little piece of my Moroccan heart went away with her. Class was lonely this week without my Swiss friends, but in'shah Allah, we will meet again someday.

And now, as the title of this blog hints, I've been doing some serious eating lately. Layla gave another cooking class yesterday, which I had to leave early for my weekly trip to the hammam, but, hemdil Allah, I learned how to make Moroccan style khoobz (bread) and addis (lentils). Onward to the recipes:

Khoobz
1/2 K white flour (1 Kilo=2/2 Pounds)
3/4 K fine corn flour (divided about 1/2 K and 1/4 K)
3 1/2 c warm water (divided 3 c and 1/2 c for later)
3 1/2 T active fresh yeast (follow link for information on yeast and conversions)
1/2 t salt

Put white flour on your cooking surface (a board, a shallow smooth bowl, a marble slab) and then also put 1/2 K of corn flour with the white flour, also add yeast. Slowly, pour a little water on the elements and begin to mix by hand, adding more water when it is absorbed. When you've added about 2 1/2 or 3/4 c, begin to knead the dough. Don't forget to fold and turn the dough, being sure to cover all areas, ocassionally adding more water as needed in sprinkles, may use/need the other 1/2 c warm water). Add 1/2 t salt and a bit more water, continue kneading and sprinkle water when sticky. Poke or prod dough to test readiness. It should spring back and not be too sticky.

Prepare another part of your surface by sprinkling some of the divided, remaining corn flour on it. When the dough has used nearly all the water and springs back at touch, use a slight bit of water to pinch off a handful of dough and gently press in between hands into a ball-like loaf, then place it on the surface. Gather corners of ball in a slight kneading/tucking motion toward the center of the bread and then place that side down on the surface (it should be about 3 1/2 inches in diameter). Set aside on a clean towel. Continue until dough is loaved.

Begin to prepare loaves by taking them, one by one, to the floured surface and pressing them flat with the heel of your hand until they are about 8" in diameter. As you are pressing them out, be sure to flour as needed including flipping and flouring the other side to prevent sticking. Set aside on a clean towel. Continue until dough is flattened and then allow loaves to sit and rise for about 30 minutes.
Preheat oven to about 350 or 375 (this is an unscientific temperature because our oven here does not have any temperature settings, only a lone dial with no kind of indicators...)

Place one or two dough loaves on a baking sheet and, using a fork, poke about 5 holes in the loaves. Bake for about 15 minutes, watching to be sure they are cooking evenly, they should be golden brown when finished.

Yield ~8 loaves


Next, the addis, or lentils. I'm such a fan of addis, it's almost at the same level of my love for bisara, but only almost. I've eaten various addis all over Fez, but no one does it better than Layla. Lucky for you I'm posting the recipe:

Addis (or Lentils)
3 3/4 c lentils
1 purple onion, finely chopped
2 tomatoes, halved and grated
8 cloves of garlic, grated
6 sprigs parsely, finely chopped (ends of stems removed)
6 sprigs cilantro, finely chopped (ends of stems removed)
2 1/2 T Paprika
1 t salt
1 t black pepper
1/4 t Moroccan saffron
1 t cumin
1/2 c olive oil
1/4 c vegetable oil
12-13 c water
Prepare lentils by first checking for stones or twigs, wash well in a collander or strainer and pour into a large pot. Grate tomato halves and garlic into pot on top of lentils, add all other ingredients and set to boil on stove, covered. Once boiling, partially cover and allow to cook for about 1 hour, checking on liquid levels. If the lentils are becoming too thick, add a bit of water to preserve consistency.
Serves ~8

Also, here are some photos from my most recent adventures. Here are some more.

Today, Megan and I are going on a scooter trip to Sefrou, a berber village about 30km away. The roads in Morocco are a little crazy, but hemdil Allah, she is a good driver and I'm a seasoned Vespa passenger.

B'salama,
Danielle

Recipes

I've been taking quite a few cooking classes from Layla, the Villa's housekeeper, and I thought I'd share some of my wonderful experiences.

First is a recipe for bisara, my absolute favorite Moroccan dish. It's a soup made of ground fava beans. It's wonderful, filling, and cheap. Very cheap.

Layla's Bisarra Recipe (1.22.09) 2:30pm
1 Kilo dried fava beans
10 cloves of garlic, pressed (for best results, pressed by Jimmy Robnett)
1 Tbsp. salt
1 Tsp. cumin
4 Tbsp. vegetable oil
4 Liters water

Add all ingredients into a large pot. Cook over high flame for 1 hour. Run cooked mixture through a blender to obtain creamy texture.


Top with cumin and olive oil and serve.

Next is chicken tajine, or tajine dajaaj:

Serves ~12
2 1/2 Kilo (K) chicken (3 whole chickens, split)
3 chopped onions
1 tomato grated (no skin)
1 head minced or shredded garlic
12 stems corriander (cilantro) chopped
1 Teaspoon (t) Moroccan saffron
2 Tablespoons (T) black pepper
2 1/2 T powdered ginger
Salt, to taste (at least a couple of T)
1/2 Cup (c) vegetable oil
1/2 c olive oil
1/2 c water

Boil all above ingredients in large, wide pot for 15-20 minutes. Whille that is cooking, prepare:

10 Medium (M) carrots, peeled, quartered and sliced
10 M sweet, white turnips, peeled, quartered and sliced

Add vegetables to pot and add water to just reach level of ingredients. Allow to simmer on M-H heat for about 1 hour.

Serve with bread.



Now comes the Moroccan-style couscous, which is usually reserved for Friday lunch, as it is a rather lengthy process to prepare:

1 1/2 Kilo (K) Carrot
1 K Sweet (white) Turnip sliced, quartered
1 K Potato sliced, quartered
1 K Pumpkin sliced in large chunks
1/2 K Zuccini
1 head Cabbage, cut in 1/8ths
2 Tomatoes, sliced in 1/6ths
3 Onions, sliced medium
3 Cup (c) Chickpeas (soaked overnight) and rinsed
3 Chickens, sectioned
3 Tablespoons (T) Powdered Ginger
2 T Black Pepper
3/4 Teaspoon (t) Moroccan Saffron
1 1/2 T Salt (may add more to taste) for vegetables and meat
1T Salt for Cous Cous
3/4 c Olive Oil
3/4 c Vegetable Oil for vegetables and meat
2/3 c Vegetable Oil for Cous Cous
2 K Cous Cous (same as Tria, in a bag, not instant)

For Vegetables and Meat:
Place sectioned chicken in bottom of large pot with chickpeas, onion, tomatoes, powdered ginger, black pepper, saffron adn salt. Add vegetable oil, olive oil and 3 c water. Cover and cook for approximately 25 minutes, it should boil.

Prepare other vegetables and wash. After 25 minutes, add all vegetables except cabbage and water to match the level of the vegetables. Layer cabbage on the very top, recover and cook for approximately 1:15.

Set water to boil for cous cous (in cous cous pan)

For Cous Cous:
Put dry cous cous in a bowl, add 2 1/2 c water and mix with hands. Allow to soak for about 6 minutes. Don't allow cous cous to form hardened balls. Rub clumps softly between palms. After 6 minutes, layer cous cous in top of cous cous pan/steamer. Some may fall out the bottom.

Place top of steamer on boiling water and cook for about 20 minutes. Remove cous cous to a bowl, add approximately 12 c water and stir in gently (enough water for the cous cous to absorb and get fluffy, but not to overwhelm). Let stand about 7 minutes and begin to roll cous cous between hands to fluff and separate. Add 2/3 c vegetable oil and 1 T salt, continue to roll and fluff. Remove about 1/2 of the cous cous and steam again, steam second half after first half is done. Fluff cous cous one final time, serve with contents of pot on top with broth.

Serves ~12

And finally, my other favorite Moroccan dish, harcha. It's a bread-like breakfast pastry. So good with butter and honey in the middle.

Layla's Harcha Recipe (1.22.09) 2:45pm
1 Kilo Semolina Flour
2 tsp. Salt
1 tsp. Baking Soda
1/2 cup Vegetable Oil
2 cups Water

In a bowl, mix flour, salt, baking soda, and vegetable oil. Then add water, mixing until dough becomes a ball (but not too wet).

Split dough into 4 balls of equal size.

Press one ball of dough into a 1/4" thick circle in an un-greased skillet. Cook over low flame for approximately 8 minutes per side (checking to make sure it browns lightly, but does not burn). Repeat for 3 other balls of dough.

Top with honey or butter and serve.


Recipes documented by Laura, photos by Anne and Aaron.

B'salama,
Doonyaa

a number of things

It's been a little while since my last post, and I must say, I've done a number of blog-worthy things since then, so here goes:

Last weekend, Gilli, Ken, I took a break from Fès and headed north to Tangier. After a 6-hour train ride that was supposed to be 4.5, we finally made it to the sandy shores of Tangier, which is a really interesting city. Since it's so close to Spain, there is an abundance of Europeans who come in for day trips, or students like us who just need to get away for a little while. We ordered fish sandwiches from this man who impressed us with his French, Spanish, Arabic, Russian, and Portuguese, and then went on our way to Hotel Family (which I suspect is a poor translation of what was supposed to be "Family Hotel"). We pitched camp in our 40dh/bed room (about $4.50 USD) and then found accidentally ourselves in the Petit Soco, where some of the most famous artists and writers from the beats generation hung out back in the day. Then, after consulting Lonely Planet, we discovered that we had also accidentally had coffee in William S. Burroughs' favorite café as well! Momtaaz (excellent)!
The night progressed, and we found ourselves in a Spanish/Arabic pop inspired dance club, where women looked like they'd dipped their faces in vats of clown makeup, and consumed entire bottles of AquaNet to get their hair ready to get out. Gilli and I looked shweeya out of place in our traveling clothing (sweats for her, and a Mr. Rogers sweater for me). Nonetheless, it was nice to be in a place where the city doesn't close at 9pm every night, and where not every guy around is a total creeper.
The ride home was less than perfect, thanks to a rowdy group of pre-teen and teenage boys who coincidentally decided to train hop in our car, but hemdiallah, we made it back home to Fès in one piece. It's funny that one year ago, I never would have though Fès, Morocco would be my "home", but I felt like this was indeed my home. It's funny how it changes so quickly after being here for just three and a half weeks.

(XOXO from طنجة, Tangier)

Among the other blog-worthy things I've done is move into my new room. No, that's not nearly as exciting as I made it out to be, but it's a big move for me because it means my time here is already a third of the way over. Tentatively, my plans are to live in my newer, bigger room with Megan for the next three weeks, take a week off to travel in between the semesters, and then possibly move into a homestay. I've been flirting with the idea of living with a host family for a while now, so hopefully by the time these next three weeks are over I'll have it all figured out....in'shah Allah.

Also, I've been taking quite a few cooking classes from the Villa's cleaning lady, Layla. So far, I've become a seasoned chef in the art of chicken tajine, couscous, besara (fava bean soup which has become a staple in my diet), and harach. Laura, a fellow student wrote down the recipes and took pictures so you can all be looking forward to that in the future. As for now, I'm about to pass out from the typical Moroccan Friday lunch of couscous and khoobz (bread).

B'salama,
دنيا

thank you, thank you, Lonely Planet

When I first started reading about Morocco, I came across something called the "hammam" or public baths. Here, it is not uncommon for a home to have only cold water, which leaves most Moroccans fleeing to the hammam once or twice a week to get a good ol' fashioned scrub-down. I'll admit, at first I thought this was one of those experiences I'd have to count myself out of, but when my new California buddies, Christine and Alex, asked me to go on their last day in Fès, I couldn't say no. And the funny thing is that now I'll probably never want to take a regular shower again. I can already tell some of you will be reading this in utter confusion, so let me explain the process of the hammam.

1. First, walk into the locker room, strip down to your skivvies
2. Take a handful of community resin made of olives and spread liberally. Don't be surprised if random Moroccan women ask you to get her back, and especially don't be surprised if they get yours without warning
3. Hang out in the "vaporium" to let your pores open and skin soften. You are about to undergo a major pummelling
   
4. Lie down on the tile tables as a herd of hammam employees wearing skirted unitards swarm you with exfoliating gloves (al-kis)
5. Close your eyes, don't look at all clumps of dirty, dead skin they scrub off your body. Also keep in mind, these women have no inhibitions and scrub even the places you yourself would overlook while bathing
6. Rinse off--by yourself--standing--in a shower
7. Hang out in the jacuzzi for a bit
8. Return to the tiled table, try not to slip around too much as the hammam employee now massages you with soapy water
9. Shower again. Once again, by yourself
   
10. Don a robe and sit in the relaxing room, which is basically a dimly-lit room with the world's most comfortable chairs.
11. Safee! You're done!

I think I'm in love. I want everyone to come visit me in Morocco just so I can show them the wonders of the hammam. It's.....life changing. Brilliant. Genius.

To get off the topic of my new-found love for bathing, here are some pictures of the medina. I went there this past weekend, which is where I met Alex and Christine. The medina is unlike anything I've ever seen before. Imagine the ghetto meeting up with the 16th century and having a completely functional, completely touristy baby, and that's what the medina is. Anyway, onward with the photos:

one of the biggest tanneries in Fès. Unfortunately, the smell isn't as amazing as the sight:

Ismee Doonyaa

Yesterday, we started classes here. It's only the second day but I can already tell ALIF is everything OSU isn't. At OSU, I had always had Arabic class with at least twenty other students, and we all had to fight for our teacher's attention for the 48 minutes we had with him or her each day. Here, it is just me and my teacher in two or three-hour lesson blocks. I have two instructors, Ustadh Bakali and Ustadh Ibtisam (ustadh means "teacher"). I love both my teachers; they are so nice and care so much about teaching Arabic in a successful way. On my first day, yesterday I suppose, Ustadh Bakali gave me my new Moroccan name, Doonyaa, which means "life". He pats me on the head and shakes my hand when I get the right answers, and kicks my foot whenever I repeat mistakes. I'm just three years shy of his daughter's age, so he's going to treat me like his daugther. I know he will too, he told me so. Today, when he found out I speak some French, he continued that part of the lesson in said language. This blew my mind a little too much, but I'll admit, it made me feel shweeya ("a little"--that's some darija for ya!) awesome. Ustadh Ibtisam insists I change my name to Doonyaa when I get back to America, because, " 'Danielle' is pretty, but 'Doonyaa' is prettier'".

The other wonderful thing about ALIF is that everything is small. Everything. The entire campus consists of two buildings, one where classes are held, and the Villa, where many of the students live, including me. Needless to say, so far I'm very, very pleased with ALIF and the administration here. I can't say I feel similarly towards the men in Morocco, but in shah Allah, I won't have too many more unpleasant run-ins with them.

I'm hoping to start venturing outside of Fez soon. Any ideas?

B'salama,
Danielle

Paris, je t'aime

It's been brought to my attention that I never ended up blogging about my very short excursion in le gaie Paris, so here is my fail-proof guide to touring this splendid city in three hours or less:

1. take the RER train from the airport, enjoy the beautiful scenery of the suburbs
2. get off at the Notre Dame stop, listen to the bells
3. take a walk in the Jardin des Fleurs, smell the flowers
4. walk down by the River Seine
5. buy a croissant, not because you're hungry, but just because you want to use your French
6. walk aimlessly
7. accidentally find the Louvre, walk around the courtyard
8. take a look at the Musée d'Orsay, try not to get lost in the crowd of Japanese tourists
9. walk aimlessly some more
10. find a Metro station, transfer back to the RER
11. cross your fingers
12. miraculously find your way back at the airport; c'est tout!

Oh, and one last thing.....make sure to blow kisses in the direction of your favorite frenchie ;)

B'salama,
Danielle

FEZ! finally.

That's right. I finally made it. After a delay in Atlanta, a brief visit in Paris, lots and lots of problems with Air France, even more problems with the petit taxi drivers in Rabat, creepy Moroccan men hassling me on the street, a slightly terrifying (but slightly relaxing) train ride, and an accidental date with a Moroccan guy who looked suspiciously like Mario Lopez, I'm here! I couldn't be happier to have found my home for the next three months, and to be in such good company. Quite a few of the students staying at the Villa are gone traveling for vacation, but the ones that are here are incredibly nice. It's nice to finally be somewhere and not be terrified out of your wits to go outside alone, because you'll most likely have to walk the gauntlet of Moroccan men who are just waiting to whisper creepy things in your ear, or grab you by the elbow to come with them. It's also nice to know that I have a new family in Fez, even if this new "family" consists of about ten other students only a few years older than me. Tomorrow we're having family dinner; apparently brown sugar is impossible to find here, and all the other students have been dying for American-style chocolate chip cookies. Laura, the self-proclaimed Mom of the group, got some brown sugar in a care package for Christmas and will be making an assortment of pastas and cookies.

After the past two terrible days in Rabat, I'm so glad to finally be here, safe and sound. Monday we start classes and I just got my schedule today. It looks pretty good--a few early days, but it's nothing I can't handle. Then I saw it: the number 2 next to "class size". This means there is only one other student with me? Really? I have mixed feelings about this. I am half-terrified and half-estatic about it. I really don't know what to think about an immersion class that intense, but in shah Allah, it'll be really good for my Arabic.

Okay, off to bed. I've been running all around this country all day and I need to rest my feet.

B'salama,
Danielle