The last few days have been very quiet. We kept expecting the start of Ramadan and then finding out that it was not the next day. It seems like the start date should be available ahead of time, since it goes by the phases of the moon and we can calculate when the new moon will be visible from any location, but that’s the western me talking. Here, they wait to hear the siren indicating that fasting begins the next day. They thought it might be Thursday or Friday, but the first day was actually Saturday.
I fasted yesterday in solidarity with my family. The day typically starts with a light breakfast before sunrise (the meal is called s’hor), so I figured I could make it to 7:38 p.m. without eating or drinking if I woke up for the early meal (before 4:00 a.m.). I heard some commotion in the middle of the night and figured that the girls were making food, but when I woke up again it was light out. This has happened at home – I’ve missed the alarm and not woken Ben up to eat. I always feel SO bad. I couldn’t imagine why the girls didn’t wake us up to eat. Then I found out that NOBODY ate. They got up early to get everything ready, but by the time they had it on the table they heard the call to prayer and had to put it all away without eating.
I had been obsessing a bit over whether I’d be able to go all day without eating and especially drinking, so when I missed s’hor I really didn’t think I’d be able to do it. But all of the other adults were fasting so I felt weird eating when they couldn’t. I just took it one hour at a time, and it wasn’t that bad! I thought I’d really chow down at dinner but I didn’t. I think the fact that Moroccans don’t load up their plate and then try to finish it all really helps with portion control. You just eat what you feel like eating and have fruit for dessert.
So anyway, we’ve spent the last few days around Mohammedia, with a little shopping, a trip to the beach, and a lot of packing. We’ve given away most of our clothes so we have plenty of room for all the stuff we bought, but I had to figure out how to wrap it so that it would make it home in one piece. Near our house there are several guys who make the Moroccan sofas (sdeddr) and they use a think pink foam, so we bought some and used it to wrap each piece of pottery. It worked great! I guess the proof will be when we get home but everything feels pretty secure.
It seems like we should have less bags than we came with since we brought so much for other people, but I think we’re actually going home with one extra piece. Getting it loaded onto the top of the car will be a challenge without the stepladder and after a whole day of travel, but we’ll get there. I think I’ve convinced Ben not to fast tomorrow. People who are traveling or sick are not required to fast, and I’m worried that with the long flight, the 4-hour time difference, and his diabetes, it could be a recipe for disaster. Instead of fasting for 16 hours, he would have to fast for 20 hours because it’s 4 hours earlier at home. Our flight leaves here at 2:00 p.m. and arrives in NYC at 5:15 p.m., then we have to get through customs and get everything loaded, before the 3 1/2-hour drive home. We’re going to be exhausted. I don’t need an episode of diabetic shock to round out the day.
This morning we went to the souk to deliver the photos we took. We found the butchers (Hamid and Aziz) right away, but it was kind of like a scavenger hunt finding the rest. There are tons of people selling each item (olives, veggies, spices, mint and parsley, etc.), so we had to stand in front of the stalls and try to match up details to find the right one. The people were really happy though. We ended up with 4 people that we couldn’t find because there are certain things that aren’t sold during Ramadan, like squash for couscous (apparently people don’t eat couscous during Ramadan) or ready-to-eat things (since nobody’s eating). We left the extra photos with the Hamid and Aziz so hopefully they’ll find their way to their rightful owners. It was fun, but everyone was wondering what we were up to.
This afternoon we went back to the regular market area (not the weekly souk) to deliver a few more photos – to the locksmith who spent time answering my questions about his business, the young guy who makes the ouarka – basically like phyllo dough – one piece at a time (very cool), and the guy who polishes and sells old brass, copper, etc. I sought him out the other day, remembering where he was located from another visit. While we were negotiating over a couple of pieces (check out the beautiful copper bucket below), I asked if he had been working in that spot a long time…basically wondering if it was the same guy I bought some trays from a long time ago. He said that he had been there forever, and then said that he remembered me from one time when I came with my brother. That was in January of 2003. Isn’t that amazing??
Tonight we were invited to “breakfast” (breaking the fast) with the lady who made my shirts, who is the sister of the wife of one of Ben’s friends whose four kids we brought sneakers for. Apparently that entitles us to breakfast and a good price on my shirts. She somehow got all of them done and they look and fit great! We had a great time and it was nice getting to know yet another Moroccan family. Everyone I’ve met has been so welcoming and hospitable.
Except for the pickpocket which I forgot to mention. When we went to the souk, I was walking ahead of Ben and I heard him talking to someone, so I turned around and saw a guy grinning and hugging Ben’s leg. I had no idea what was going on…I thought they knew each other. We’re always being approached by long-lost friends and acquaintances…just today I heard someone saying, “Adlani?” which was Ben’s father’s name, and it was one of Ben’s old friends. Another old friend came across the street from his hardware store and he spoke English but said American locks were too expensive, which is true. Anyway…Ben tore his ACL playing soccer so he’s wearing a knee brace, and that was the leg the guy in the souk was hugging. Then I saw Ben freak out, grab the guy’s face, yell at him, and push him away. I thought he was mad that the guy was touching his bad knee. I turns out that the guy “accidentally” bumped into Ben, then was joking around about whether he hurt Ben and maybe they should get the police involved, when Ben felt his hand in his pocket. He had about $300 in there so it would have been a big payday for the “sheffar” (thief). Luckily he got nothing and Ben has had a good story to tell about 200 times today.
Time to pack up the last of our stuff and get ready for a long trip tomorrow!
I have some more photos but Ben took my SD card reader so they will have to wait. Here are a few…
This is the brass/copper guy who recognized me:
This is the copper pot he’s polishing in the photo above. I paid $35 for it.
Some of our purchases wrapped in the pink stuff:
This locksmith was so nice, and was really happy and surprised when I brought a copy of his photo:
This kid amazed me…he was making individual sheets of ouarka (phyllo dough). He would take a handful of the gooey dough, wipe it directly onto the hot surface with a gas burner underneath, and then lift off the sheet, put it on the pile, and brush a little oil onto it. He said that the pan was hot but he had gotten used to it. I took a video of the process which I will post after I get home.
Baby chicks for sale on the sidewalk:
