On Where My Time Goes

Time is like a sword. If you don’t cut it, it will cut you. – Moroccan Proverb

The days and weeks are flying by. I’ve already been here two and a half months, and in less than a month I’ll be back in Annapolis for Christmas. I’m not sure where my time is going...it’s about time I take inventory.

Earlier this month I took a trip to Rabat. While there, I spoke to several groups of American students (all studying in Spain, and spending 4 or 5 days in Morocco) about the life of a Fulbright. Each group asked for a run-down of my day-to-day. What’s that? I feel like my life here is full of surprises and entirely out of control. But is it?

When I sit back and think about it, my day-to-day is actually quite consistent. So here is a “typical” day...let’s say Thursday...

At 7:30am my alarm goes off. But, hamdulilah, I don’t have class until the afternoon. When my alarm goes off I wake up Soukaina and tell her to get up and go to school. I always say the same thing:

“Good morning, darling! It’s a beautiful day! Get up and go to school! Study well so you’ll be smart!”

I suppose in a way it's my Arabic paraphrase of how my dad always woke me up: Another day, another chance to excel! But I’m not sure how to say “excel” in Arabic, and I’m not sure if it would come out of my mouth at 7:30am, anyway.

I usually go back to sleep for a bit, then around 9 I have breakfast with Latifa. Every morning she makes me black coffee without sugar. It’s an oddity in Morocco, and a labor of love. If ever I try to leave the house without eating breakfast, Latifa makes me at least drink the coffee she made just for me.

I leave the house around 10:00 or so. The trip to school is always an adventure of sorts. Just around the corner is a group of SHEBAB (young men). They’re always there. I think most of the time they’re nothing but trouble, but they’ve taken a liking to me. They’d defend me to the death if the occasion arose. I smile, say good morning to them, and continue on my way.

As soon as I pass my gang, I trudge up a big hill. Once I’m to the top I snake around a few more corners and find my way out of the medina, saying hello to the 2 community guards that I pass on the way.

Just outside the medina is the BATHA parking lot and a high school, and there are always crowds of students outside. As I swim through the crowd, the shebab (being the diligent students that they are) practice their English while they're hitting on me. Resourceful little devils.

On the other side of the sea of students sit my favorite parking attendants, and I give a wave. Sometimes one of them, HAMZA DIYAL BATHA, joins me on my walk so he can help me fend off 2 of my suitors who are always lurking around Batha.

On my trek through the Batha parking lot I inevitably run into someone I know and exchange niceties for a couple minutes before I finally make it to my 3D taxi. I get dropped off in the middle of town and walk the rest of the way to school.

I spend the next couple of hours in JJ’s. I love that place. I do homework, catch up with other students, chat with the waiters (they’re the only people who laugh at all my Arabic jokes...even if they’re not funny), and drink my Qhwa Americania – American coffee.

From 2-4 I have my Arabic lessson. I have a private tutor, and we work on both Fusha and Darija. The lessons have been wonderful. My teacher is really pushing me, and even just in the past few weeks I feel like both my Darija and my Fusha have improved immensely. Plus, I really enjoy what we do...reading stories and articles, watching controversial Moroccan movies, Islamic cartoons, documentaries...you name it.

After class I go home, eat lunch, play with our new puppy, and then head out for my aerobics class...one of my favorite hobbies in Morocco. It’s been one of the best places to make Moroccan lady friends. I’m one of 3 Americans in the class, and we have anywhere between 15 and 30 Moroccan classmates – all different ages and personalities. For some reason when you get a big group of Moroccan women together, they get hilarious.

In the evenings it’s time to socialize a bit. Movies...dance parties...spending time with other Americans and/or Moroccans...going to Cafés...taking walks...visiting Dounia and Joey...and the like.

And finally I return to my home to hang out with the family, study, read, eat dinner and go to bed.

And that’s a typical Thursday. But other days are different. When I have class in the morning, I tend to spend the whole afternoon visiting Moroccan friends. On weekends I let my conscience be my guide.

But of course, my motto here has to be “Semper Gumby” (another one of my dad’s standards.) Plans change and schedules get messed up and sometimes you just have to go with the flow. In some arenas I feel like I’m not accomplishing nearly as much as I’d like...but in others I feel like I’m accomplishing much more. I’m not doing “research” yet, but I’m getting to know a lot of pretty amazing people. And that's my job, yeah?

Hamdulilah.