After a long Turkish excursion (the sites were amazing; the bus rides were exhausting), and an intense day of travel, I've finally made it Morocco, the second country on my semester-long, Middle Eastern jaunt. Well, it's quite a bit more than a jaunt, a journey indeed, an adventure, a quest, whatever you want to call it. Morocco is the second African country I've visited since I spent two weeks in Tanzania in the summer of 2007. But, Morocco is obviously a far different country than Tanzania, hunkered down on the northwest corner of the continent, a short jump across the Strait of Gibraltar from Spain and the rest of Europe.
I'm taking class at the Arabic/American Language Institute in Fez; it remains unclear what the "A" actually stands for, but since I'm learning Arabic, I guess we'll have to run with that designation for the wayward A. We have several meetings of Arabic class, 8 all told, I believe. In addition to Arabic, I'll have several sessions of a class on Moroccan Sociology, a variety of guest lectures related to our main sociology course, five meetings of Professor Langerak's class, and also a Moroccan cooking, which is sure to be especially interesting, or at least, especially delicious.
For those of you who don't know, during my time in Fez, I'll be living with a Moroccan host family in the old Medina. My family, the Naciri's are gracious, friendly hosts. They have a modest flat apartment near the walls of the Medina, a short walk from the Batha Gate, and about 10 minutes by cab from ALIF. Jamal, the father, is a music professor at a public school in Fez. The mother, Fadwa, is a stay-at-home mom as far as I can tell. The family has two young sons, Mohammed age 7 and Ziad age 3. The boys are very rambunctious. Ziad enjoys climbing over and leaping from all of the furniture in the house. At first, I felt like I should be on guard to catch him as often as possible, but the rest of the family seems to be relatively unconcerned by his clambering antics, so I'm guessing Ziad has avoided any serious accidents thus far. Perhaps, my vigilance will be unnecessary.
On a strange note, the boys both have extra, 6th fingers on the sides of each hand. This might sound unbelievable, but trust me, it's true, and trust me, seeing their odd hands in the flesh is far more shocking than hearing about them via my second-hand description. Their extra digits are not fully formed; the fingers consist of a single bony knuckle dangling from a thin tag of skin. The nubs dangle and swing from the sides of their hands. The boys have a strange habit of banging one of their fists into the palm of their other hand, causing the fingers jump about. Sometimes, they'll waggle their extra appendage right in your face. Shaking their hand is a really freaky experience; I have to be careful not to squeeze too hard because it feels like I could tear off the extra finger from their small hands. And I have to be honest, I catch myself staring all of the time. I probably shouldn't be as disturbed as I am. I guess the extra finger affliction is actually a genetically dominant trait, but obviously a trait that is "corrected" by removal of the offending appendages.
With the exception of two pairs of funny fingers, the family is wonderful. They have hosted many students in the past, including a pair of students from Minnesota who lived with them for several months last year.
So far, my days have been mellow. I haven't had enough time yet to explore the Medina, although I'm not sure any amount of time would be enough to really learn my way around this place. It's absolutely nuts, a bewildering network of narrow winding streets, innumerable turns and side alleys all snaking through high walls that block out any distant reference point. During our group tour of the Medina last Friday, our guide Ali gave a particularly apropos bit of advice in regards to exploring the Medina: "To learn, you must lose your reason. To learn, you must lose yourself". That's some pretty deep advice.
I'm usually pretty good with directions, but my navigational abilities are guaranteed to fail me as I struggle to weave my way through the Medina. Hopefully I don't end up trapped in an alley with a bunch of Moroccan glue sniffers; they can be a nasty bunch. That's mostly a joke. I don't think anybody is going to mess with me, what with my size and all. And besides, I doubt I'll ever be wandering around in the Medina on my own.
Well, I hope all of you at home are well and happy! I have a feeling October is going to fly right by. Next weekend, the weekend of the 15th, I'm probably going to be traveling to either Madrid or Seville. I'll keep you posted on those Spanish adventures. I'll probably find time to throw up another post before then, but just in case I don't...
Until next time,
Your Favorite Luker
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