After my first trip to Marrakesh in 2005, someone asked me if they had "real" roads here. I simply smiled and said yes, of course there are "real" roads. The roads are, I assure you, very modern and normal, however you will see a donkey pulling a fruit cart fairly often as a Mercedes flies by. But that's all part of the charm and I quite enjoy it!
I recently recounted this conversation to Ali's brother to see his reaction. He looked at me and said, with a smile and a shake of the head (presumably in responce to the "Are there roads?" question), "This is Morocco."
His answer is simple but says a lot. We Americans see so many immigrants come to our country and of course the States is rich in immigrant history. But we may forget that other countries are desirable as well, perhaps for far different reasons that those that entice people to the good ole US of A.
I see a lot of "Africans" here. I use quotes because this is how Moroccans refer to black people from different parts of Africa who come here, usually to study. Most Moroccans are definitely not black, they're typically mocha-colored, so you can easily spot the foreigners here, including me There are also a good deal of French people who live here either part time or year round. As French is the second language here in Morocco, it makes sense that so many of the French find their way to Morocco.
Morocco seems to be a study in contrasts. There are many modern aspects, primarily the influence of technology, but so many of the traditions remain and don't seem to be going anywhere. Most people seem to favor eating at home, you can still catch a whiff of homemade bread wafting from people's windows each and every day, the mint tea is still served in every home (I would wager), and negotiating for everything from fruits to furniture is still common practice.
So in light of what I've written here, did any of you have any preconceived notions of Morocco when I told her I would be coming here to live? I'd love to here about it!
Me at Jardin Majorelle
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Sameness
I've been a little hesitant in writing this post for fear that it would be taken as a criticism to the Moroccan people, but now that I'm over that worry I figured I'd go for it!
Morocco is an ancient culture. No I'm not going to give you a history lesson but in a country with a mosque more than 1,000 years old I realize I'm dealing with centuries of tradition. And it is tradition, or rather, sameness that I want to address here in this blog. You, dear reader, can make the distinction between tradition or sameness for yourself.
It seems to me that in so many things Moroccans are the same. First thing is the way they eat. They all eat bread along with every bite of their food (with rare exceptions). It's as if they can eat nothing if they aren't scoooping it up with bread. Because of this method of eating they do not use forks, instead using the bread to grab the food. I had a bit of fun with this the other day. We were sitting down to eat and the food had been placed on the table but not yet the bread. Of course Ali's grandmother was quick to point this out to her daughter-in-law (Ali's mother) and she was calling for her to bring the bread. Just to see what she would do, I handed her my fork (which I always use while eating because I'm the crazy American who just can't fathom eating that much bread) and encouraged her to eat from it without the bread. She shook her head no, smiled at me and said "shooma" which means shame. Good grief!
Another "sameness" quality is the aprons a lot of the older women wear. Ali's grandmother and her sister both wear these all day even though they do absolutely no cooking. This is a garment that has to be tied around the waist and I would imagine it's not the most comfortable thing in the world but damned if they don't take them off...EVER!
This next one is an extension of the aprons as it deals with clothing. In Morocco there is a unique garment called the jilaba (that's not how to spell it but I tried to go with phonetic spelling). It's a long dress for women and a similar style for men, expect the men's style comes to the ankles and the women's is a little longer. Most jilabas sport a hood and embroidery down the center front of the garment. You can spot them anywhere in the world and know they came from Morocco. Now don't get me wrong, many of them are very beautiful and they come in a dizzying array of styles, colors and patterns. But they are essestially all the same.
Now on to cleaning attire. I've seen several ladies of the family and ladies of the neighborhood cleaning in and outside of their homes and, again, it's all the same. They all roll up their pants, put on their plastic houseshoes, tie up all their hair in a rag and go at it. They all look the same pushing a broom or a mop.
Also, they all cover their hair completely when they go to the hamaam (public baths) or bathe inside the home. And this is regardless of whether or not they routinely cover their hair for religious purposes or not. For instance, Ali's youngest sister doesn't cover her hair but I can always tell when she's had a shower because she'll have her hair wrapped in a scarf for the rest of the day. I think this goes back to their fear of cold but I don't know. I always just towel dry my hair and then pull it up into a ponytail while damp but call me crazy. I also let Drea leave the hamaam with towel-dried but non-covered hair and I'm sure the ladies are all silent condemning me for my negligent mothering. Ah well.
Another thing is shoes. They wear them in the house but not on rugs and carpets. Now I totally get and agree with this as several studies have shown that walking with shoes on carpets traps a lot of dirt and dust in your home and can trigger allergy attacks and other problems. But it's still a funny sight to see a serviceman walk into your home and take off his shoes before he fixes your power outlet in your room or, even funnier, to see someone drop to their knees on the rug in the room your sitting in and "knee walk" to you because they need to greet you (with a kiss of course) and they don't want to take off their shoes because they don't intend on staying in the room you're in. I have seen this done on more than one occasion and it's funny!
I've also talked to my sister-in-law about the type of food that's served in Morocco. She agreed with me that if you walk into any home they are likely having tea at the same time we are, having coffee the same time we are and so on.
Now having said all this I'm sure we can chalk a lot of this "sameness" up to tradition, something I feel is a little lacking in America simply due to its youth. Now many of you may not agree with me on that point but having seen something of other cultures I can tell you it's true, as least in my Moroccan experience. But feel free to share your own.
Morocco is an ancient culture. No I'm not going to give you a history lesson but in a country with a mosque more than 1,000 years old I realize I'm dealing with centuries of tradition. And it is tradition, or rather, sameness that I want to address here in this blog. You, dear reader, can make the distinction between tradition or sameness for yourself.
It seems to me that in so many things Moroccans are the same. First thing is the way they eat. They all eat bread along with every bite of their food (with rare exceptions). It's as if they can eat nothing if they aren't scoooping it up with bread. Because of this method of eating they do not use forks, instead using the bread to grab the food. I had a bit of fun with this the other day. We were sitting down to eat and the food had been placed on the table but not yet the bread. Of course Ali's grandmother was quick to point this out to her daughter-in-law (Ali's mother) and she was calling for her to bring the bread. Just to see what she would do, I handed her my fork (which I always use while eating because I'm the crazy American who just can't fathom eating that much bread) and encouraged her to eat from it without the bread. She shook her head no, smiled at me and said "shooma" which means shame. Good grief!
Another "sameness" quality is the aprons a lot of the older women wear. Ali's grandmother and her sister both wear these all day even though they do absolutely no cooking. This is a garment that has to be tied around the waist and I would imagine it's not the most comfortable thing in the world but damned if they don't take them off...EVER!
This next one is an extension of the aprons as it deals with clothing. In Morocco there is a unique garment called the jilaba (that's not how to spell it but I tried to go with phonetic spelling). It's a long dress for women and a similar style for men, expect the men's style comes to the ankles and the women's is a little longer. Most jilabas sport a hood and embroidery down the center front of the garment. You can spot them anywhere in the world and know they came from Morocco. Now don't get me wrong, many of them are very beautiful and they come in a dizzying array of styles, colors and patterns. But they are essestially all the same.
Now on to cleaning attire. I've seen several ladies of the family and ladies of the neighborhood cleaning in and outside of their homes and, again, it's all the same. They all roll up their pants, put on their plastic houseshoes, tie up all their hair in a rag and go at it. They all look the same pushing a broom or a mop.
Also, they all cover their hair completely when they go to the hamaam (public baths) or bathe inside the home. And this is regardless of whether or not they routinely cover their hair for religious purposes or not. For instance, Ali's youngest sister doesn't cover her hair but I can always tell when she's had a shower because she'll have her hair wrapped in a scarf for the rest of the day. I think this goes back to their fear of cold but I don't know. I always just towel dry my hair and then pull it up into a ponytail while damp but call me crazy. I also let Drea leave the hamaam with towel-dried but non-covered hair and I'm sure the ladies are all silent condemning me for my negligent mothering. Ah well.
Another thing is shoes. They wear them in the house but not on rugs and carpets. Now I totally get and agree with this as several studies have shown that walking with shoes on carpets traps a lot of dirt and dust in your home and can trigger allergy attacks and other problems. But it's still a funny sight to see a serviceman walk into your home and take off his shoes before he fixes your power outlet in your room or, even funnier, to see someone drop to their knees on the rug in the room your sitting in and "knee walk" to you because they need to greet you (with a kiss of course) and they don't want to take off their shoes because they don't intend on staying in the room you're in. I have seen this done on more than one occasion and it's funny!
I've also talked to my sister-in-law about the type of food that's served in Morocco. She agreed with me that if you walk into any home they are likely having tea at the same time we are, having coffee the same time we are and so on.
Now having said all this I'm sure we can chalk a lot of this "sameness" up to tradition, something I feel is a little lacking in America simply due to its youth. Now many of you may not agree with me on that point but having seen something of other cultures I can tell you it's true, as least in my Moroccan experience. But feel free to share your own.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
The Hanoot Rules
First off folks, sorry for the delay in updating my blog but the Internet connection has been giving me trouble for the better part of two weeks and once I had had it and suffered a semi-nervous breakdown I suppose the gods decided to smile down upon me and restore my connection.
So now that I'm back up and running I'm trying to condence all that I've had in my head during that time and put it down into words. Since I've decided I can't do that I'll just start with a story of the local hanoots, or the little stores that dot the streets and neighborhoods of Marrakesh.
First let me explain how the city is set up and then you can understand how the hanoot fits in. Marrakech is a lot like New York City with its block-length buildings that are then divided into residences and stores. So a hanoot is just a little slip of a space in which is packed a multitude of items-usually snacks, toiletries and household items. However, there are specialty hanoots and it is these that I'm going to talk about.
Since Marrakesh is a walking city most things, if not all, that one might need on a daily basis are within walking distance. For instance, in my neighborhood and not more than a two-minute walk away are hanoots for cell phones and their accessories, laptop computers and their accessories, locks and keys, bike repair, beauty products, medicines and probably some other stuff I can't think of right now or haven't noticed yet. Essentially it's like living amongst a divided Wal-Mart that sectioned off each one of its departments into small shops along the street.
Even better along the streets are what I call the "convenience kitchens." Just steps from my door you can find men cooking soups and donuts or women making bread, right there at the cusp of the sidewalk. Each day as I bring my children to and from school I am greeted by the smells of baked or fried bread, the sizzle of hot soups being served at a makeshift sidewalk cafe and, of course, the endless drone of car horns. A Marrakesh street wouldn't be complete without the near-constant "beep beed" of oncoming cars.
So now that I'm back up and running I'm trying to condence all that I've had in my head during that time and put it down into words. Since I've decided I can't do that I'll just start with a story of the local hanoots, or the little stores that dot the streets and neighborhoods of Marrakesh.
First let me explain how the city is set up and then you can understand how the hanoot fits in. Marrakech is a lot like New York City with its block-length buildings that are then divided into residences and stores. So a hanoot is just a little slip of a space in which is packed a multitude of items-usually snacks, toiletries and household items. However, there are specialty hanoots and it is these that I'm going to talk about.
Since Marrakesh is a walking city most things, if not all, that one might need on a daily basis are within walking distance. For instance, in my neighborhood and not more than a two-minute walk away are hanoots for cell phones and their accessories, laptop computers and their accessories, locks and keys, bike repair, beauty products, medicines and probably some other stuff I can't think of right now or haven't noticed yet. Essentially it's like living amongst a divided Wal-Mart that sectioned off each one of its departments into small shops along the street.
Even better along the streets are what I call the "convenience kitchens." Just steps from my door you can find men cooking soups and donuts or women making bread, right there at the cusp of the sidewalk. Each day as I bring my children to and from school I am greeted by the smells of baked or fried bread, the sizzle of hot soups being served at a makeshift sidewalk cafe and, of course, the endless drone of car horns. A Marrakesh street wouldn't be complete without the near-constant "beep beed" of oncoming cars.
Monday, March 5, 2012
The Hammam
Several of you guys have requested that I do a blog about the hamman experience here so I've decided to be a sweetie and comply.
First of all let me explain to you what a hamman is not. It is not a room with a large bathtub where women all bathe together and you have to worry about who's peeing on you. No, not the deal. It is also not a place to feel uncomfortable, although as you are bathing in front of everyone there I get why some Americans (Mom!!!) might feel squeamish.
That being said, let me tell you about the hammam I know and love. The hamman is something I suspect all Moroccans grow up with as just a natural aspect of life. However, whappens in the hamman is unique within the normal realm of bathing. What makes it special is that, yes, it's done in front of everyone, but what also sets it apart, as far as I know, is the way you bathe.
Sure Moroccans do the usual soap and suds routine and of course wash their hair and, for women, shave their legs. But the real beauty of the hammam is the exfoliation. Once you've done your normal wash, you lather a special soap on your body and you use a loofah glove to remove all the dead skin from your body.
Now before I get more into that let me tell you about this soap. It's golden brown in color and it's smooth and silky to the touch. It feels very luxurious to the touch and, once you've removed all your dead skin, you are literally silky. Get why I love it so much?
But let me tell you about the hammam itself, at least the one I've been to. You pay 12 dirhams (Moroccan currency) at the door and another dirham to the lady who will watch your bag containing all your clothes. Then it's off to the undressing room. After you've stripped down to your skivvies (no bra), you head to the inner part of the hammam with your water buckets and other toiletry and hammam-specific supplies in tow. The rooms have smooth concrete floors and the walls are extremely hot to the touch-the better to keep you warm my dear. After you find your spot and you've set down your bath mat you head to fill up your water buckets. See in the hamman there is no actual bath as you are probably imagining in your head. For water there are water spouts in pairs, one searing hot and the other freezing cold, around the room for you to fill your buckets. Once you have filled your bucket-which are much like large sand buckets you see children lugging at the beach-and gotten your water to a comfortable temperature you head back to your spot and start to wash. You will have a small plastic bowl to dip into the water bucket to pour the water over your head and body. Then you do your normal wash.
But let's get to the best part shall we? The exfoliation. Of course most people do their exfoliation themselves, especially on body parts that are easily within reach. Most, however, have a friend do their backs. The exfoliation is done in a specific motion of fast down and slow up. Here's what I mean. For example, they run the loofah from their knee down the rest of their leg quickly and bring it slowly back to the knee. This technique is repeated all over the body. This is done over and over again in the same spot until all of the dead skin is removed, and believe me they leave no piece of dead skin behind and the proof is in the pudding. You can see the dead skin collecting all over people's bodies. Talk about refreshing, and maybe a little nasty at the same time, but it all gets washed down the drain, the one spot in the hammam of which everybody steers clear. That's no man's land.
But there's more to the hamman than just out-of-this-world cleanliness and silky smooth skin. Although I think wanting anything more is just being greedy.
So call me greedy. I can live with that.
I love to go to the hammam without my kids and here's why. I can sit in a nice and hot yet non-steamy room, listen to the sounds of water running out of spouts and down people's back and of course, incessant chit chat that is inevitable when you have a large grouping of women The rooms are awash in dim lighting, it's a warm and sultry atmosphere, and its one of the most primitive things I've ever seen.
Now don't get me wrong. That's not an insult to the bathing practices of Moroccans. Quite the contrary. I revel in the hamman. I love it's otherworldliness, at least to the likes of an American like me. I love that you can walk in and see women laid full out on their mats in total relaxation while their friend or mother or whomever gives them a full-body rub down with the loofah while next to them a giddy child will be body surfing along the water-slicked floor. It's a crazy sight and it reminds me that I'm not in Kansas anymore. Which was the whole point of coming to Marrakesh right?
First of all let me explain to you what a hamman is not. It is not a room with a large bathtub where women all bathe together and you have to worry about who's peeing on you. No, not the deal. It is also not a place to feel uncomfortable, although as you are bathing in front of everyone there I get why some Americans (Mom!!!) might feel squeamish.
That being said, let me tell you about the hammam I know and love. The hamman is something I suspect all Moroccans grow up with as just a natural aspect of life. However, whappens in the hamman is unique within the normal realm of bathing. What makes it special is that, yes, it's done in front of everyone, but what also sets it apart, as far as I know, is the way you bathe.
Sure Moroccans do the usual soap and suds routine and of course wash their hair and, for women, shave their legs. But the real beauty of the hammam is the exfoliation. Once you've done your normal wash, you lather a special soap on your body and you use a loofah glove to remove all the dead skin from your body.
Now before I get more into that let me tell you about this soap. It's golden brown in color and it's smooth and silky to the touch. It feels very luxurious to the touch and, once you've removed all your dead skin, you are literally silky. Get why I love it so much?
But let me tell you about the hammam itself, at least the one I've been to. You pay 12 dirhams (Moroccan currency) at the door and another dirham to the lady who will watch your bag containing all your clothes. Then it's off to the undressing room. After you've stripped down to your skivvies (no bra), you head to the inner part of the hammam with your water buckets and other toiletry and hammam-specific supplies in tow. The rooms have smooth concrete floors and the walls are extremely hot to the touch-the better to keep you warm my dear. After you find your spot and you've set down your bath mat you head to fill up your water buckets. See in the hamman there is no actual bath as you are probably imagining in your head. For water there are water spouts in pairs, one searing hot and the other freezing cold, around the room for you to fill your buckets. Once you have filled your bucket-which are much like large sand buckets you see children lugging at the beach-and gotten your water to a comfortable temperature you head back to your spot and start to wash. You will have a small plastic bowl to dip into the water bucket to pour the water over your head and body. Then you do your normal wash.
But let's get to the best part shall we? The exfoliation. Of course most people do their exfoliation themselves, especially on body parts that are easily within reach. Most, however, have a friend do their backs. The exfoliation is done in a specific motion of fast down and slow up. Here's what I mean. For example, they run the loofah from their knee down the rest of their leg quickly and bring it slowly back to the knee. This technique is repeated all over the body. This is done over and over again in the same spot until all of the dead skin is removed, and believe me they leave no piece of dead skin behind and the proof is in the pudding. You can see the dead skin collecting all over people's bodies. Talk about refreshing, and maybe a little nasty at the same time, but it all gets washed down the drain, the one spot in the hammam of which everybody steers clear. That's no man's land.
But there's more to the hamman than just out-of-this-world cleanliness and silky smooth skin. Although I think wanting anything more is just being greedy.
So call me greedy. I can live with that.
I love to go to the hammam without my kids and here's why. I can sit in a nice and hot yet non-steamy room, listen to the sounds of water running out of spouts and down people's back and of course, incessant chit chat that is inevitable when you have a large grouping of women The rooms are awash in dim lighting, it's a warm and sultry atmosphere, and its one of the most primitive things I've ever seen.
Now don't get me wrong. That's not an insult to the bathing practices of Moroccans. Quite the contrary. I revel in the hamman. I love it's otherworldliness, at least to the likes of an American like me. I love that you can walk in and see women laid full out on their mats in total relaxation while their friend or mother or whomever gives them a full-body rub down with the loofah while next to them a giddy child will be body surfing along the water-slicked floor. It's a crazy sight and it reminds me that I'm not in Kansas anymore. Which was the whole point of coming to Marrakesh right?
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