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