Invasion of the Tichiratin and Mice

December 14, 2007

Today has been a, well, rather interesting day.

This morning, as I was making grilled cheese with roasted red peppers (a splurge) for breakfast, my doorbell rang.

It was a few neighbor girls. It was 9 am; I had told them to come over at ten if they wanted. Word has gotten out around town that I have toothbrushes, so some of the kids in town want some. I’ve decided I have no problem giving more away if they can demonstrate that they can use it, learn how often, and do the “which foods are healthy for your teeth” activity.

As I didn’t have enough cheese or red peppers to go around, I told them to come back at ten. They came back at 9:20. Close enough.

We did the activity at my house and I gave them cut up green pepper, carrots, and Ranch dressing. They didn’t like it. After 40 minutes, they started to get annoying, so I told them to go, new toothbrushes in hand.

Peace and quiet. I settled down with my book, and started cooking some soup for lunch in a few hours.

COO COO COO COO COO COO! (Have I ever mentioned that my doorbell sounds like a cooing bird?)

Five more kids; these were some of my favorites. We had already done the toothbrushing activity, but I repeated it (and they got it all right!) and talked about henna and syringes from the clinic transmitting disease. We colored (which they love) and they stayed around for a few hours. I don’t mind. These girls are usually polite, well-behaved, and respectful but also fun to be with. They saw my Santa hat, and so I explained very briefly about Christmas and wore the hat the entire time they were over.

Eventually, I kicked them out. It was 2:00 and I hadn’t eaten lunch yet. I offered them some cabbage soup, and though they were intrigued by cabbage and ate as much of it as I’d give them raw, they were a bit disgusted with it in the soup.

After lunch, a big steaming pot of hot chocolate, and a few games of solitaire on the computer, I settled down with my book again, looking forward to a peaceful afternoon.

COO COO COO COO COO COO COO!

Four new girls. I’ve never seen them before. And now, they’re sitting in my salon, coloring. They’re a little more shy, and I’m exhausted, so we’re not having quite as much fun, but hopefully if they come back…and as soon as I stopped typing and started drawing with them, two more came over. It’s beginning to be ridiculous, but I’m happy nevertheless.

December 17, 2007

I’ve been lazy the last few days. It’s been a lot of me sitting on my ponjs, watching movies and TV shows on my laptop, though I’ve also done a load of laundry and started typing out lesson plans for my English class, whenever that gets off the ground. It’s an advanced class, and so far there are only three students: my nurse, and two men from the Commune (local government), so it’s not really a community-building, empowerment project the way I wanted it to be, but it is a way to get to know some local leaders who I may end up working with over the next year and a half.

I did, however, go to a friend’s house yesterday, which was fun. Even though I’ve been in my site six months now (I can’t believe it!), I’m still not sure how to handle some social situations here. For example, people say to just stop by at any time, it doesn’t matter when. I went in the mid-morning, and it seemed like I might have been interrupting chores. I only stayed for about an hour, and it wasn’t a big deal and, of course, she insisted it was fine and a good time, but I couldn’t help but notice that everyone else was busy doing something.

Today, I was out for awhile, and ran into a friend after going to two other houses. I asked her when a good time to come over to her house was and she finally said 3:00 pm was the best time.

I also never know when invitations are really genuine. Sometimes, I know they’re not, but sometimes I’m not sure. This evening, I was at said friend’s father’s house and they invited me to stay for dinner. The problem was that it was 5 pm and dinner, I know, wouldn’t be served until 8 at the earliest. I had already been at their house since 4, and even though it’s my friend’s father’s house, the rest of the family were complete strangers, and the idea of sitting in their house for four more hours was a bit, well, daunting, to say the least, so I made an excuse and didn’t stay. When I tried to leave, though, I realized by the way that it seemed that they really wanted me to stay, that the invitation was truly genuine. I could have stayed. Coming back to my empty house with hennaed hands made me realize it would have been an easier night if I had stayed.

Yes, my hands are hennaed for l’Eid Kbir (ikhatr). Last week, my hostmother invited me to come over today to get all hennaed up, so I came over after lunch, played with my host sister, and had the henna smear put on my hands. I may have mentioned the distinction this summer, but what most people in the U.S. think of as henna is what we call “zuaq” henna. The closest definition that I can come up with is “design;” it’s one of those words that I know how to use in different contexts but have never had translated. Zuaq is done using a syringe and finely ground henna and is usually done in some sort of floral design. There are special syringes sold in stores for this type of henna, but, as I know I’ve mentioned, girls do go to the burn pit behind the clinic to find used syringes for henna or squirt guns.

However, it’s more Amazigh, or so I’ve been told, to do “taromidt” (spelling?) henna, or what I’ve termed “smear” henna. For this, the dried henna leaves aren’t ground as finely as for zuaq, and it’s spread solidly on the palm of the hand, either in a line just above the wrist, or down to the wrist, and wraps around the fingertips, including the fingernails. After application, hands (or feet) are wrapped in a plastic bag, and left for a few hours or overnight.

There is a third variation that is between smear and zuaq henna: “skotch” (coming for the generic word for tape, which, yes, comes from the brand name Scotch Tape). This is a type of tape with designs cut out that is sold in stores. It’s easy to use and you do end up with a design, but it’s apparent that the design isn’t from a syringe. The tape is placed on the hand or foot and henna is “smeared” over the tape. The henna dyes the skin wherever the holes are in the tape.

In any case, I’m not as much of a fan of the “skotch,” and “zuaq” takes time and it’s hard to find people who are really talented. I tend to stick to the “smear” henna, which is, from what I’ve observed, most common in my site.

With my hands swaddled in plastic bags, my hostmother and I set out for her next door neighbor’s house, one of my favorite families in town. The mother of the household’s husband had just come in from France. I’d never met him before. We didn’t talk more than “hello,” but I sat with the daughters, who are all about my age, and drank tea.

They all cried a little bit. Even my host-mother cried a little bit. It was surreal, because I didn’t know what to do: it reminded me of the funeral I went to a few months ago. People don’t cry openly here, at least not that I’ve seen, except in special circumstances, and I suppose the return of a family member after a certain period of time qualifies. The thing is that while they were crying, they weren’t surrounding him or hugging him or even talking to him. They just cried, silently, while sitting in the salon, and then carried on regular conversation. It was touching, and it made me miss my family, but it also made me uncomfortable. I’m not used to seeing people cry and not being able to try to comfort them or say something. I just sat there, silently, not knowing quite what to do, hands wrapped in black plastic bags.

I left when my host-mother left, despite the mother and a few sisters saying “Stay! Stay!” and started walking home. That’s when I saw my friend who was going to her father’s house and I went over there for a few hours.

The mice have gotten worse in my house. I think it’s because it’s getting cold and they want to be somewhere warm. I caught one today in a trap, and I hear another one in my kitchen pantry right now. I want to cook dinner, but I’m afraid to go in there because I don’t know how to deal with the mouse. I think I need to just bite the bullet and buy an inordinate amount of plastic containers, because it’s getting to the point where not only am I keeping all my fruits and vegetables in the fridge, but also sugar, flour, cornstarch, and even peanuts. Still, this isn’t helping. It makes me want to just say “forget this,” and move to a cement house, but the hassle of moving, getting Peace Corps to inspect a second house, and the things I’d need to buy (a bed, a table or two, a desk, lots of shelves, a kitchen counter possibly…) really make me question if it’s worthwhile. It’s just one thing after another and I don’t know which is worst: the scorpions in the summer, pinchy bugs in the fall, and now mice in the winter.

…

Wow. I feel like I’ve hit a new low. I finally ventured into the kitchen to get some food and decided to cook lentils, one of my favorites. It’s simple: sautee garlic, onion, tomato, and pepper in some olive oil, then add some rinsed lentils, water, a lamb knoor (bullion cube), cumin, ginger, salt, and pepper, then just simmer for about an hour.

I was in the middle of sautéing my vegetables when my butagaz ran out. This means nothing cooked or hot until tomorrow when I get up and go get my tank refilled. It also means, that when I scour my kitchen, I can have fruit, a rather pathetic salad, or nothing for dinner. I really should have stayed for couscous. My dinner now consists of lukewarm half-sautéed pepper, tomato, onion, and garlic doused in barbecue sauce and a cold protein powder drink. Delicious, let me tell you. (Yes. That was sarcastic).

And, to add injury to insult, as I was walking into the salon to eat and type this, I saw a mouse scurrying under my door to leave. It’s one thing to hear them, it’s a whole other thing to see them. They give me the creeps, they really do, and the fact that this is the third that I have physically seen today is really irksome.

My to-do list now has two rather urgent additions:

Buy Rat Poison
Buy Butagaz tank

At least now, I know that one large buta tank lasts me almost exactly 4.5 months. I almost feel like it’s a momentous occasion. I’ve lived here long enough to go through an entire tank. All in all, it’s pretty cheap, I suppose: about $11 US a refill, or just over $2 a month to power my stove, including boiling water for tea, all hot meals, and boiling water to bathe with. When you take into account that the most expensive my water bill has been is about $1.50 a month, it’s not that bad… until you get to the $10 or so a month for electricity in the winter (in the summer but before I got my fridge it was only $4).

Okay, enough whining for one night.

On a different note, yesterday, I was invited into one of the huge houses that I’ve never seen before. I think it has to be nicer than any other I’ve seen in Tamazitinu. Four showers with water heaters. Four! And black leather couches, four big-screen TVs, at least by standards here, and, no kidding, a bathroom with a western toilet, bidet, twin sinks, and a bathtub that’s about three times the size of a normal one. I get so shocked when I see these houses coupled with the fact that most everyone gives birth at home and the woman of the house, even in this case, is completely illiterate.

December 18, 2007

And today, life is back to normal. I dug up some mouse poison and woke up to another dead mouse, but haven’t heard anything since. I’m crossing my fingers on this one.

I also was able to get a butagaz tank quite easily: just asked neighbors if they had a wheelbarrow (birueda… the word for tire and wheel in Tashelheit is “rueda,” just like in Spanish), got the nice taHanut man to put the regulator on, which saved me needing to find a wrench that fit, and hauled it back to my house. It was lighter and much easier than I expected, and the same lentils I was trying to make last night are now bubbling on my stove.

My hands are now a pleasant shade of brown-red, and I think if I use duct-tape to keep the edges straight, I can do my feet tonight or tomorrow night.

And if I’m updating today, which is the plan, it means I’ve run into my souk town to check mail and email and buy a couple vegetables. I am absolutely obsessed with eating cabbage, and if I remember to buy the right groceries, my dinner plans include a grilled cheese and roasted red pepper sandwich and homemade tomato soup: a delightful splurge for a moderately cold winter night.

Though it’s gotten warmer. I’m not wearing long underwear today and seem to be doing just fine.

And l’Eid kbir (ixatr) is Friday. L’Eid and Ramadan are the two biggest Muslim holidays and I’ve been hearing the “Big Eid” since I’ve gotten to Morocco. Everyone here in Tamazitinu tells me the same things when I ask about it: every family kills a sheep and eats it for a solid week. Every part. At eight in the morning, everyone goes and prays outside and they want me to take pictures,which is strange because photographs are so sensitive here that you’d think with something like prayer, it’d be even more forbidden. Women put henna on their hands, people buy new clothes (iheruyn ujdid), and people wear kaftans and tqshetas (a two-layered kaftan) and go to other people’s houses to say “Mbrook l’eid!”

It’s an oversimplified version of events, I’m sure, but that’s the same speech I get, no matter who I ask.

And, of course, the Equippe-Mobile run that was supposed to happen last week but was rescheduled for this week is rescheduled again for “After l’Eid.”

December 19, 2007

I went into town yesterday, but didn’t upload my blog. I was literally in town just enough time to grab some vegetables and groceries, check my email, and check my post office box: about an hour and fifteen minutes. Because none of the transportation to or from my site runs tomorrow (Thursday) through Sunday or Monday for l’Eid, it was a nightmare. I had to have seen at least 40 or 50 people from my site bustling about, and even though I didn’t have a seat saved on the bus, a nice man insisted I take his seat. I tried to say no, that I’d have no problem standing, but he ended up squeezing in next to someone else and I was pretty comfortable. There goes that “chivalry” again. I’m still trying to figure it out: why, on one hand, it’s expected to give up a seat for a woman on some forms of transportation, but men still eat before the women in many homes.

I’ve spent part of the afternoon putting zuaq henna on my hands. I did my right hand left-handed and I think I’ve smeared some of it, but it’s a design I’ve wanted to do for ages, and I think it’d be hard to find someone here to do it for me because it’s not exactly traditional.

December 20, 2007

Happy Eid Eve! I woke up and decided to take a walk to see if I could find a sheep being slaughtered. I know, sort of masochistic for this pseudo-vegetarian, but I didn’t think I could say I celebrated l’Eid without seeing this phenomenon.

I didn’t have far to go. Right outside my salon window, my next door neighbors were in the midst of it as soon as I stepped outside. I walked over and saw the animal, still moving on the ground, throat slit, blood pouring from the cut. At this point, my neighbor slit a hole in the leg and blew up the sheep like a balloon. Kids started beating on the stomach like a drum. It was fascinating to watch.

They proceeded to skin the sheep’s legs, then tie them to a beam sticking out of my courtyard wall so that it was hanging upside down. They skinned it from legs down to the head and it came off neatly and cleanly. The head came off and was carried inside, then the white carcass was split open and the organs removed. About this time, they said “If you want to take pictures, you should go get your camera,” so I have a few pictures of him pulling out the small intestines, pouring water into the large intestines and blowing them up, and squeezing unmentionables out of the intestines.

For some reason, none of this even came close to grossing me out. I wonder if this means I could actually eat organ meat.

The best part was that it started snowing, small flurries. Nothing stuck, the sun was shining, and the weather was pleasant, but the little snowflakes were almost magical.