forty-eight hour cous-cous party

It's my fourth day here and Morocco and things are so busy I have barely had time to breathe. 

On Saturday, my parents drove Lavanya and I to JFK to catch our eight o'clock flight to Morocco. I was upset because this is the first time I have flown or travelled without my parents, but when we got there we found the rest of the William & Mary kids and I settled down. There was a creepy guy in the terminal with a Yankees bag who kept pacing, looking around, and muttering to himself but obviously since I'm here, he wasn't a terrorist. Our flight left an hour late and they took away my carry-on suitcase, which was irritating since it had important things in it but alhamdulillah it made it to Casablanca intact. The guy in front of me started screaming when they took his suitcase away and threw a giant temper tantrum but eventually gave in; I was surprised he wasn't arrested since the TSA was all over the flight. I later learned one of my friends had to sit next to this lovely fellow. My seatmate was an elderly African American man who was in possession of every tabloid ever made -- People, Us, In Touch -- you name it, he had it. Most of them had articles titled things like "Who wore this dress best?" At the end of the flight, he asked me if I read "this stuff." I don't know why you would blow fifty bucks at Hudson news if you didn't want to learn about Heidi Montag's plastic surgery, but to each his own. During the flight, I slept for pretty much the entire time (including some turbulence that was apparently terrifying), but seven hours later I got off the plane feeling like crap. Luckily I made it through customs with Lavanya even with two crazy and incredibly intoxicated young Moroccan men in front of us wandering around and yelling at each other in French. Let's just say that if that happened in the US they'd have been detained in less than 60 seconds. 

Anyway, I made it through and then spent the next three hours while we waited in the Casablanca airport waiting for the rest of our classmates and vomiting in the bathroom. I'd better save some Snackwells and Pringles for the flight back because I will never be able to look at Royal Air Maroc food again in my life. 

We then had a bus ride (2 and a half hours or so, maybe more) to Meknes, where we're staying. I slept through most of it because I was loaded up on Dramamine but I woke up when our bus broke down on the side of the road. They ended up getting it going again after half an hour by pushing it until it got moving properly, just like something out of a movie. The bus was actually quite nice but, as someone said, they put the engine of a Kia inside.

The hotel we are staying is called the Transatlantique. Some of the other students (there are groups from TX, KY, and MO) are staying at smaller, nicer hotels. Our lobby and outside is beautiful but the rooms are a little subpar. Lavanya and I were shocked that we did not have a shower curtain but the director, Driss, called and pestered the hotel until they put one in, saying "Have you heard of Guantanamo Bay? How would you like to stay there for 48 hours for cous-cous party?" Now that we have adjusted to Morocco we are used to it and Driss will fix anything that's wrong. In fact, I'm pretty sure Driss knows everyone is Meknes; he's pretty much the man. He says we are his good quiet students who don't cause him trouble. Driss said he is like our mama and our papa on this trip, so don't worry.

After a good sleep, the first day we dove right into classes. Our teacher, Fatima, spoke entirely in Arabic. She speaks French too but I don't think she is very fluent in English so the first day was intimidating, though everyone is in the same boat. Sometimes we just stare at her blankly and she moves on to someone else, but she seems fine with everything. Homework takes a few hours in the afternoon but so far we've tackled it in a small group and it's been manageable. Class is from 9-1 with a break for tea at 10:45. I've always hated tea but here I've found myself drinking it whenever it is served and I am growing to like it. The institute feeds us lunch (usually chicken and vegetables) and this week we bought four nights of dinner since some of us weren't ready to go eat out in the city. Some of the Texas kids got really sick and I have to be careful because of my nut allergy, but we will probably eat out next week since the food can get a little repetitive. We all load up on bread, though, and the food is very good. The first night we had cous-cous, and since then we have had various permutations of chicken and vegetables, minced meatballs, these potato nugget things (the one food I didn't eat), and tonight (my favorite), pasta with a tomato and chicken sauce. 

I haven't explored Meknes much but we went on a tour of the medina (older, walled city) on Monday and it was fabulous. It is like nothing I have ever seen. There are tiny streets that cars can't get through with little stands and markets everywhere. I took a lot of photos and hopefully the rest of this blog will be more pictures than text. We walked through the medina, part of the souk (market), and also went to a mausoleum. It was exhausting and I am not sure how I will ever remember where everything is, but I'm sure we will sort things out.

Anyway, the rest of this blog should be a little more organized but the last few days have been a whirlwind. I am looking forward to a good night's sleep tonight.

I can hear the evening prayer call which means it's probably about time to head back to the hotel from the institute before it is too dark. The prayer calls are five times a day from all the mosques in the city announcing it is time for prayer (obviously) but saying Allahu Akbar (God is Great). This morning I was dreaming of William & Mary squirrels (since I am the squirrel whisperer, as I said in my drugged state post-wisdom teeth) and then they started chanting Allahu Akbar before I woke up and realized it was the early morning prayer call. I guess that's how I know this ain't Kansas anymore.

Anyway,

Ma'a salama, Au revoir, Goodbye!