FOOD! FOOD! FOOD!

I love food. Yeah yeah yeah, I know that is no shocker to my family and friends but this may be: I am increasingly eating healthy foods like fruits and vegetables. Actually, more vegetables than fruits but it sounds better when I group them together.

A large reason for this is all the fresh food available to me. This is, in addition, to the high cost of meat. A kilo of kefta is 80 dirhams vs. a kilo of chickpeas at 12 dirhams or a kilo of potatoes at no more than 5 dirhams. Since the majority of my food comes from souk, its fresh, local, and I like to think, organic. And what a difference freshness makes!

I have always enjoyed cooking but, here, because there is no such thing as sauce mixes, microwavable food, or take-out Thai :(, I have to cook almost everything I eat. Shortly after arrival in-country, Peace Corps gave each volunteer a cookbook. Of all the manuals I was handed, this is the only one I have devoted a significant amount of time too. While several of the recipes require tweaking, it has a significant repertoire of yummy food recipes—alfredo, lentil soup, hummus, fajitas, falafel, quiche, and so much more!

As Peace Corps countries go, Morocco is tops in food. I am not being smug or presumptuous. Marrakech was rated as the number one food destination of 2009 by The New York Times. One of my favorite things about this country is the plentiful spices. Let’s face it, I live in spice heaven.

The longer I live here, the more my palette increases. The more I like, the more options I have to cook. As a result, my cooking skills have improved significantly. And it is easier to cook when dealing with fresh garlic, peppers, and onions.

This is all a roundabout way to talk about my recent food adventures. I spent last weekend in Bri’s site. Bri is a great cook and, recently, started a food blog. Well, Bri found some spinach (!) and cooked a delicious spinach lasagna, focaccia bread, scones, and cake. So much of my excitement here revolves around food--for good reason. Food has such a healing power. It is amazing how rejuvenating a good mac and cheese or homemade pizza can be.

The Numbers Game

In Peace Corps Morocco, it’s all about numbers. At one time or another, we have counted down until our COS date, days in site, dates until special occasions, etc. The simple act of counting gives me a little bounce. So here are some of the numbers rumbling around in my head at the moment:

Days until I Become an RPCV: 226
Days I have Been in Country: 576
Cost of a kilo of chickpeas yesterday: 10D
Number of shampoo bottles I have finished in country: 1 (just last week and if this doesn't say something about my hygiene habits here, I don't know what does)
Number of times I showered last week: 4!
Unlistened-too podcasts: 40 (I got lots of catch up to do)
Days until I see my family in London: 80

Put On Your Running Shoes

"So do you all want to run in the 5K race for women tomorrow?"

This proposition was given to me and other volunteers when we arrived in Meknes two weekends ago for spring camp. We looked at each other and exclaimed, "yeah!"

So on Sunday morning, we woke up and headed to the registration area at the appropriate time. In true Moroccan fashion, the run did not start until 2 hours later. No matter though, we moved around trying to stay warm and dry as it had started to drizzle. Soon enough, the banner was waved and off we went. Some of the girls were hard-core runners. I was impressed but most were like me—just happy to be out exercising.

The opportunity to participate was a pleasant surprise and running through Meknes with other women and girls was a great feeling.

A 5K run is one of the big city pleasures that I enjoy and was the best way to kickoff a very successful English camp!

 

Note: Even though, my camera battery is out of commission—it froze—other volunteers have been kind enough to take photos for me. I have lots and am in the process of uploading them to Flickr. Happy viewing!

The Desert Sky

“In North Africa, the earth becomes the less important part of the landscape because you find yourself constantly raising your eyes to look at the sky. In the arid landscape, the sky is the final arbiter. When you have understood that, not intellectually but emotionally, you have also understood why it is that the great trinity of monotheistic religions—Judaism, Christianity, and Islam—which removed the source of power from the earth itself to the spaces outside the earth—were evolved in desert regions. And of the three, Islam, perhaps because it is the most recently evolved, operates the most directly and with the greatest strength upon the daily actions of those who embrace it. For a person born into a culture where religion has long ago become a thing quite separate from daily life, it is a startling experience to find himself suddenly in the midst of a culture where there is a minimum of discrepancy between dogma and natural behavior, and this is one of the great fascinations of being in North Africa.” –Paul Bowles, Their Heads Are Green and Their Hands Are Blue

Well, I finally journeyed to the Sahara. Almost every volunteer I know says that a camel ride among the Saharan dunes--the base town is named Merzouga--is a must-do thing. It only took me 18 months (wow, have I really been here that long) but over the recent long holiday weekend, I finally set foot in the Sahara sand. And it felt so good.

One of the best parts of my training outside Ouarzazate was being able to sit in my host family’s courtyard and stare at all the stars in the night sky. There, on the cusp of the Sahara, they were a sight to see. My mountains’ stars just do not hold that same beauty. So it was a pleasure to be back under the desert sky.

I had such a wonderful time. After arriving in the heat of the day (temps in the 90s!), sitting back to enjoy a cup of tea and soak up the warmth, the camels were loaded and the 2 hour camel trek began. Eventually (the camel trek was just a few minutes too long) we came to our evening accommodations—a large tent surrounded by dunes.

Enjoying not sitting on the camel’s hump—in case you are wondering, they just have one—we tried to go for a little hike. I was practically raised on sand but living in the mountains has made me weak. Walking in the soft Saharan sand was difficult. We struggled. I have so much admiration for the camel guys (ours was awesome), walking out and back all day long. Whew.

Settling into our tent, reading, and writing, dark came quickly. The stars came out but unfortunately, the almost-full moon took away some of their brightness. But still, sitting outside staring up at the sky, 2 hours away from electricity and running water, it was nice to be away from it all.

Rain, Rain, Beautiful Rain

"Rain.
Rain, rain, rain, rain
Beautiful rain
rain, rain, rain, rain
Beautiful rain
Oh come, never come, oh come, never come
Oh come to me beautiful rain"
-chorus to Rain, Rain, Beautiful Rain by Ladysmith Black Mambazo

Today, March 19^th is the first day my little town has experienced a thunderstorm since September. That’s right. The last 6 months, it’s been nothing but snow.

While I would much rather prefer sunshine for the next 3 months—it can rain in the summer—it is a little bit comforting to know that the long, cold mountain winter is nearing an end. I am sure that there is more snow ahead but right now, it is nice to be able to enjoy the rain and the beginnings of spring. The fields are starting to bloom with wildflowers, cherry trees are starting to blossom and everything is bright green. Oh, beautiful spring.

daydreamin' with a cup of chamomile tea

Oh, crazy Moroccan winter and the joys of living at 6000 ft. Sunshine and warmth (you know, relatively) were plentiful the last two weeks. I was starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel and got a little too comfortable and complacent with the early signs of spring. Well, the gods of winter decided to throw me a little curveball. My little town that sits on the top of a mountain has experienced intermittent snow showers and heavy winds since Friday night and this nasty weather is expected to continue through the rest of the week.

February was, by far, the busiest month of my Peace Corps career--working to get the computer literacy classes started, attending trainings, and repairing my relationship with the weaving cooperative. After sort-of sitting on my hands the second half of 2008, all my work projects seem to be coming together at just the right time. I am happy, motivated, and enthused about the next couple of months.

As I grow older, I am having more and more of those "oh-my-god-I-swore-I-would-never-do-this" moments. Some are in the abstract--like realizing that I am slowly but surely turning into my parents. That I am okay with. However, two events at souk today have me shaking my head in a little bit of disbelief:

1) The sellers at souk were in a bargaining mode. After my very first souk experience, I promised myself that I would never bargain for food. It was a lot of work for only a couple of dirhams difference. While some volunteers say that it is the merit of the issue, I know when someone is taking advantage of the fact that I am a foreigner. If it bothers me, I will do something but this does not usually happen at souk. Today however, I bargained just for the hell of it. I have more vegetables than I will ever eat but the red peppers looked beautiful and they are usually scarce around my town. The seller said 8 dirhams. I said 5. He said 7. I said 6 or I was going away. He quickly accepted and after handing him the equivalent of 75 cents, I walked away with a kilo of red peppers.

2) I bargained some more, this time for olive oil. Accepting my new liter of scrupulous Berber olive oil, I made a mental note that my current liter was bought less than less 2 weeks ago. With the exception of one dinner, I have not been entertaining. Its been just me; I went through a entire liter of olive oil in less than 2 weeks. My diet has been overtaken by the Mediterranean diet. But that diet is supposed to be good for you, right?

Today's adventures have ended and at this moment, I sip my cup of chamomile tea, trying to figure out a way to use my kilo of red peppers, and daydreamin' about my upcoming trip to the Sahara.

Cous Cous Fridays

During today's World Wise Schools conference, one of the students asked what my favorite Moroccan food is. I answered cous cous. It is so yummy.

So here is a little food culture lesson for ya'll.

Most Fridays are what I call “Cous Cous Friday.” I would love to eat cous cous every Friday but unfortunately, not many people in my town are consistent in their Friday lunch plans. One family is though: Abdou's in Azrou. Abdou owns my favorite rug shop and his mom's cous cous is one of the best. If I am in Azrou on Friday or just have a craving for cous cous, I head to Abdou’s for Friday lunch.

Friday is the Muslim holy day. The tradition of eating cous cous for Friday lunch is similar to the tradition of Christians (or maybe just Southerners) of eating a big Sunday lunch. I like this; it reminds me of home.

Even though it is culturally insensitive, I should mention that many volunteers (me included) compare women’s cous cous—no two are alike. Some women can make a good tagine but their cous cous misses the spot. In the last 18 months, I have only had 3 bad servings. That's not a bad percentage. When I am invited to return for cous cous at these 3 places, I try to reschedule for tea instead. So far, its worked.

The women in my host family make really good cous cous. Even though its time-consuming and labor-intensive, I have promised to learn. My expectations are not too high. I just want to learn the basics so I can share the magic of cous cous with my family in Florida. Time will tell.

Cous cous pictures (these will help):


Contents: cous cous with chickpeas, chicken, pumpkin, hot peppers, potatoes, zucchini, carrots



The group one Friday last year (Abdou is on the far left; his mom ate too but she is one taking the photo)


Close up...Dig In!