Also, I might be married to a very old cook.
So I got to Fes last night around 11pm, way way past the 9pm deadline to check into the hostel. I got a taxi (harder than it sounds) and got to a hotel. The guy at the desk told me they were out of single rooms and it would be 120 MAD for a double. I was thinking about what to do then, which must have seemed like saying no, because he said "all right, all right, I'll give you a double room for 100 MAD." This just seemed like a pretty sweet bargain, since it isn't much more than I'm paying at the hostel anyway. So I said ok, felt super proud of myself for bargaining, and promptly fell right asleep. I thought about trying to get some bottled water and that seemed really unmanageably difficult, so I just drank tap water. I woke up super early (about 6:30 am) and decided I should find my hostel. Unfortunately I had no idea where in Fes I was or, for that matter, where in Fes my hostel was. I just knew the e-mail from the hostel staff had said this hotel was "close". So I got a taxi (again, harder than it sounds.) and the guy drove me around for about 20 minutes before asking me for 20 MAD. I happily paid and got out. The hostel didn't open until 8 am, so I sat outside and watched stray cats and a super cute stray dog and resisted the urge to play with them. When the hostel finally opened, I checked in and read for a while before I decided to go looking for a cyber cafe. It was only then that I crossed the street and saw my hotel from last night, maybe a block and a half from the door of my hostel.
That's right, I'm an ignorant tourist and I got ripped off by a taxi driver. Oh well. Live and learn. I laughed this off and was walking in front of a small cafe when a very fat older man came out and started yelling at me, gesturing to come inside. I tried to wave him off, but he kept yelling, and actually grabbed my arm to pull me inside. I gathered that he wanted me to eat in the cafe. (He kept patting my stomach and then his, much larger one, telling me I needed to get fatter, I think.) I kept looking around for help but every one in the cafe was laughing like this was the most hilarious thing that could ever happen. He handed me a bowl of something. I tried to explain I didn't eat meat and he didn't seem to understand me but the soup was kind of hummus-colored and thin, without any obvious meat in it, so I just decided to try it. It was delicious. (Adil has explained to me it was Fava bean soup.) Considering I haven't had any food since I last ate a potato and onion frittata in the Madrid airport, (probably 24 hours) besides a few handfuls of the increasingly stale trail mix and goldfish crackers I brought from Seattle, I went from being scared and confused to being really, really happy. He gave me soup, bread and mint tea. Then he told me he would be my husband and mimed a ring on his finger, pointing to mine as well. So, I guess I'm married now? Honestly, if he keeps feeding me so well I will be a happy, happy little wife.
I have to say today is the best I have felt health-wise since I got sick back in Seattle. I had recovered from the kidney infection but the antibiotics and the stress of finals week had me feeling tired all the time. Then there was jet lag and the stress of travelling through three countries in two days, and last night on the train I kept dozing off and waking up with no sense of how long I'd been out. Today I feel great. (Other than really, really needing a shower.) I have energy and I'm excited about my program. I have never been so happy to see any one as I was to see Ustaadh Adil and Ustaadha Rania, who are also from UW but will be our instructors here in Fes. The campus here at ALIF is beautiful, and I am feeling more and more confident about surviving off of the cash I have until I get my debit card.
Speaking of money, I want to say a few things about poverty. I've traveled before, I've seen poverty, the kind that comes of temporary refugee camps turned into cities for 60 years. But on the train out of Casablanca I saw what looked like hundreds if not thousands of crumbling cement-block houses or people living in tents. I think it is easy to forget that being a poor student (even one living without health insurance) is nothing compared to actual poverty. And not the kind that comes of addiction or alcoholism, either. I don't know enough about what I've seen to know what I'm talking about, yet. I just wanted to take a moment and say that I got some perspective about how privileged I really am. I am so grateful to every one who helped me get here. Sure, it wasn't easy, but I am so lucky to have this chance to see the world and have these kind of misadventures. I probably won't forget that, but if I do, some one please smack me or something.
Ok, time to find out about that shower... I miss you all!
So I got to Fes last night around 11pm, way way past the 9pm deadline to check into the hostel. I got a taxi (harder than it sounds) and got to a hotel. The guy at the desk told me they were out of single rooms and it would be 120 MAD for a double. I was thinking about what to do then, which must have seemed like saying no, because he said "all right, all right, I'll give you a double room for 100 MAD." This just seemed like a pretty sweet bargain, since it isn't much more than I'm paying at the hostel anyway. So I said ok, felt super proud of myself for bargaining, and promptly fell right asleep. I thought about trying to get some bottled water and that seemed really unmanageably difficult, so I just drank tap water. I woke up super early (about 6:30 am) and decided I should find my hostel. Unfortunately I had no idea where in Fes I was or, for that matter, where in Fes my hostel was. I just knew the e-mail from the hostel staff had said this hotel was "close". So I got a taxi (again, harder than it sounds.) and the guy drove me around for about 20 minutes before asking me for 20 MAD. I happily paid and got out. The hostel didn't open until 8 am, so I sat outside and watched stray cats and a super cute stray dog and resisted the urge to play with them. When the hostel finally opened, I checked in and read for a while before I decided to go looking for a cyber cafe. It was only then that I crossed the street and saw my hotel from last night, maybe a block and a half from the door of my hostel.
That's right, I'm an ignorant tourist and I got ripped off by a taxi driver. Oh well. Live and learn. I laughed this off and was walking in front of a small cafe when a very fat older man came out and started yelling at me, gesturing to come inside. I tried to wave him off, but he kept yelling, and actually grabbed my arm to pull me inside. I gathered that he wanted me to eat in the cafe. (He kept patting my stomach and then his, much larger one, telling me I needed to get fatter, I think.) I kept looking around for help but every one in the cafe was laughing like this was the most hilarious thing that could ever happen. He handed me a bowl of something. I tried to explain I didn't eat meat and he didn't seem to understand me but the soup was kind of hummus-colored and thin, without any obvious meat in it, so I just decided to try it. It was delicious. (Adil has explained to me it was Fava bean soup.) Considering I haven't had any food since I last ate a potato and onion frittata in the Madrid airport, (probably 24 hours) besides a few handfuls of the increasingly stale trail mix and goldfish crackers I brought from Seattle, I went from being scared and confused to being really, really happy. He gave me soup, bread and mint tea. Then he told me he would be my husband and mimed a ring on his finger, pointing to mine as well. So, I guess I'm married now? Honestly, if he keeps feeding me so well I will be a happy, happy little wife.
I have to say today is the best I have felt health-wise since I got sick back in Seattle. I had recovered from the kidney infection but the antibiotics and the stress of finals week had me feeling tired all the time. Then there was jet lag and the stress of travelling through three countries in two days, and last night on the train I kept dozing off and waking up with no sense of how long I'd been out. Today I feel great. (Other than really, really needing a shower.) I have energy and I'm excited about my program. I have never been so happy to see any one as I was to see Ustaadh Adil and Ustaadha Rania, who are also from UW but will be our instructors here in Fes. The campus here at ALIF is beautiful, and I am feeling more and more confident about surviving off of the cash I have until I get my debit card.
Speaking of money, I want to say a few things about poverty. I've traveled before, I've seen poverty, the kind that comes of temporary refugee camps turned into cities for 60 years. But on the train out of Casablanca I saw what looked like hundreds if not thousands of crumbling cement-block houses or people living in tents. I think it is easy to forget that being a poor student (even one living without health insurance) is nothing compared to actual poverty. And not the kind that comes of addiction or alcoholism, either. I don't know enough about what I've seen to know what I'm talking about, yet. I just wanted to take a moment and say that I got some perspective about how privileged I really am. I am so grateful to every one who helped me get here. Sure, it wasn't easy, but I am so lucky to have this chance to see the world and have these kind of misadventures. I probably won't forget that, but if I do, some one please smack me or something.
Ok, time to find out about that shower... I miss you all!
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