This week has been a big week for the relationship between me and my host family. I spent ten days away from them and I think we both realized how close we had become. I came back to the village last Saturday evening and was greeted with open arms. I didn’t realize the people of the village even knew my name, much less missed my absence. After all we spend 90% of our day in school and very little of it when we get home is spent outside the home. I was proven wrong.
All of my neighbors came outside to welcome me back to the village and ask me how my trip was. My host sister, Asma, came running out of the compound full speed to greet me with a hug. It is a good feeling to be missed, especially when you don’t expect it.
I didn’t realize that in such a short time we had collectively made an impact on each other’s lives. My family has taught me so many things about Morocco and family and life. I am eternally indebted to them. They have taught me what it is like to live on less but not miss out on life. They have shown me how to wash my clothes by hand and cook a delicious dinner from scratch. Most importantly they have shown me that different doesn’t mean bad. I am much different from them and them from me, but that has not played even a minor role in their treatement of me or inhibated their ability to welcome me with open arms and let me join their family. I can assure you it has made the transition much easier knowing I have a support base here in Morocco when my family and friends in the States cant be there.
So here is how the week went. On Saturday we got back in the evening time and I helped cook dinner, clean up, entertained the kids and brought back water from the well as usual. We ate dinner pretty late and we even had my host aunt over. I have only met her once, but she speaks a little English which is nice. She even wrote me a letter in script explaining what I have meant to their family and how they were going to miss me when I was gone. It was a really nice note. After dinner I went straight to bed, which turned out to be a bad idea. Whatever the factor was, I woke up at about 5am in extreme stomach pain. I ran to the bathroom a couple of times and about the 3rd time, my mother was standing outside the bathroom waiting for me. Mind you, my brother Hamid had been super sick the week I was gone, so sick they took him to a doctor in Ouarzazet. Im sure my mother was thinking that she was killing all of her children. I tried to explaint that I had pleanty of medicine and that I would be okay in a little bit, but she waitied outside my room until I fell asleep again.
On Sunday, my mother and I cooked rice mush, per my request to prevent another Saturday night inicident. On Monday, she made cous cous again. The same thing we ate the night I got sick, but as any great mother would, she made me a salad with tomatoes, onions and peppers so that I could eat things I like but not have to eat the cous cous. It was one of the nicest gestures of hospitality ever and again, just another reason why she is an angel. Last night, my sisters Asma and Hasna and I watched Apollo 13 in my room while the rest of the family napped, we even shared some granola bar, quite a big treat for these girls.
Today was sort of the culmination of it all. Amina, our home stay coordinator, came to our village and paid all of our families for feeding and housing us. When she got back to the school she told me that my family was the only family that mentioned to her that I had become a part of their family and they liked having me around. They told her they were really sad that I had to leave. Now mind you, I am sure everyone’s host families will miss them and everyone has played an important part in the lives of those they lived with, but I thought it was especially awesome that my host mother had made it a point to mention it to Amina. When Amina and our traning coordinator, Hoda, came to our site, they also brought some mail for me. One package that I got contained some packets of seasoning/ mix that my mom had sent from the States. When I got home, I asked my mom what we were having for dinner and she told me I could choose. I then asked if I could cook them an “American” dinner of sorts (with a Moroccan twist of course). My mom was happy to let me .
One of the packets I got was brown gravy mix. It happens to be my favorite brown gravy and I haven’t eaten it since February, which is a long time. I decided to cook mashed potatoes, gravy, peas and chicken. All my favorite things. After some improvising and lots of help from my mom, dinner was ready. As we set it on the table in the living room, all of the kids and my host dad gave it sort of a strange look, but dove right in. As I expected, my very picky host brother Hamid, did not like it at all and made it a point to make sure everyone at the table knew. My host mother was so embarrassed that she sent him out of the room to go sit by himself. I tried to explain to her that it was not a problem if he didn’t like it. Not everyone likes all kinds of food and that it didn’t offend me, but she was hearing nothing of the sorts. I am pretty sure that everyone else except little Amsa, didn’t necessarily like the food, but they made a point to compliment it thousands of times and wipe the plate clean. Asma on the other hand resorted to licking the pan I cooked the gravy in, so she could get every last bite.
It really meant a lot to me that my family was working so hard to not hurt my feelings, when frankly, I don’t like all the Moroccan food I eat. It just shows what amazing people they are, and what amazing adults the kids are going to grow up to be, even Hamid. It really isn’t Hamid’s fault he doesn’t like gravy and I have made that point many times, maybe one of these days they will believe me.
In other news, something hilarious happened today. For the past day or two my host mother has been wearing an outfit that is green with flowers but has little diagrams of atoms on it. It has the standard picture with the nuclus in the middle and the electrions whirling around the outside. Fatima has no clue what those little symbols mean and I find it hilarious that some clothing maker in Morocco is making outfits with atomic symbols on them. I have been trying to explain that they are related to science but its hard for a science nerd to explain to my 5th grade educated mother what atoms are, so I just tell her they are pretty and move on. Today I brought my computer into the kitchen so we could listen to some Indian tunes (the closest I have to Moroccan music) while we cooked. About an hour into the jam session, she looks at my computer and points out that the Genius sidebar on my ITunes has exactly the same atomic symbol as her outfit. I couldn’t believe that she noticed and we both laughed for a long time that it was the same. She told me that she was going to wear that outfit more often because it is cool, since Americans use the same symbol. It was a great story to tell and pretty awesome. While I look at the atomic symbol and think about chemical reactions and physics, my mom looks at it and thinks that it’s just a cool symbol since my computer has it too! Sometimes you don’t even expect to be surprised and amazing and then it happens, and boy is it awesome.
I am getting pretty sad thinking about having to leave my family on Sunday morning, but I know I will be back. When my American family visits, we will be sure to make a trip to my training village so they can meet my Moroccan family that has changed my life.
I did buy some pretty sweet gifts so I will let you know how the gift giving goes ☺
In other news, I passed my language test, so I will get to swear in :)
Martin and my host sister Asma.
Sami and Dave at McDonalds in Agadir. They dont go to McDonalds often in the states so it was a treat for them.
Me enjoying a delicious Diet Coke at McDonalds, WITH ICE!
The girls eating chips given to them by Sami and Dave. They loved them.
The beauty of Agadir.
freaking hilarious!! will you please find another outfit like that and bring it back to me?!
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