three weeks in

So, sorry I suck at blogging. My host family has internet, so I don't even have a good excuse.

I've been at my CBT site about two weeks now. It's incredibly posh. The town attracts a lot of tourists. I'll probably be really unprepared for my permanent site after swearing in 5my host family has a hot water tap, a dvd player, a western toilet and has even embraced toilet paper) but hey, one step at a time. swiyya bswiyya.

I spend most of the week at my LCF's (language and culture facilitator) house learning Darija. We have classes/training from 830 to 6 M thru F and 830 to 1230 Sat. When I'm not at school I try to find a balance between "me" time and "morocco" time. During "me" time I veg out and listen to my ipod or run occasionally and during "morocco" time i cultivate my lady skills. That sounds dirty, but what I mean is I try to act like a girl in Morocco should (I'm not a woman because I'm npt married. Also, when people ask me if I'm married I am supposed to stress that I'm simply not married yet). I do my maundry, help my mom set the table and clean up after meals, try to force myself into the kitchen, etc. My mom doesnt't really want my help cooking, though, because the last time was a disaster. I peeled one potato (poorly) in the time it took her to peel three and grate a few carrots. If I had the language capacity I would let her know that if she ever needs help impersonating robots, dinosaurs or zombies I'm totally down, but cooking has never been my strong suit. Just ask my real mom.

Things are going swimmingly with my CBT (community based training) group. We all have Arabic names now--Amal (me), Jamila, Nubna, Absalam; Tariq and Brahim. We have fun together... the other day our LCF qsked if we had any questions and Absalam shouted out "Would you rqther have crab hands or a tail?"

My host sisters are pretty col I guess. The littlest one cracks me up. She drew me this really pretty picture of a rainbow fish but instead of just giving it to me she followed me around for 20 minutes holding it. She even followed me outside while I took my laundry down from the line.

What else. Um... well we eat 'round the clock. Sunday I woke up at 10 am and had coffee (which in Morocco is a glass of warm milk with a splash of coffee and a cube of sugar) and a little pancake. Then around 1 pm we feasted on fish, beans and bread. I met some PCVs from the neighboring town for coffee at 3ish, then Brahim and I went to visit our fellow CBT mates, which meant another lunch at Lubna and Absalam's qnd tea and cookies at Jamila and Tariq's. I got home just in time for tea with my family, and then of course there's dinner. Sometimes I think I moved to the Shire, not Morocco, because my new diet is essentially that of a hobbit. Breakfast, second breakfast, elevensies, luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner, supper...

I have henna on my palms and its really exciting.