frunneymoon, part one - athens

never one to do things halfway, i wrapped up my birthday week with the boys juuuust in time for another wonderful trip – my college roommate / soul sista liz came over for a mediterranean-style friend honeymoon (we coined it the “frunneymoon”). for the sake of efficiency, she arrived into istanbul just a few hours after the boys had departed. we hung around for one night with my friend alex (of previous post fame), and then left together the following day for 10 wonderful days in greece!

our first impression of greece was highly favourable. it wasn’t necessarily unexpected, but it was certainly a pleasant confirmation. everyone was exceedingly kind and helpful, from the concierge at the airport to the bus driver in the city center (who let us ride for free because the ticket kiosk was sold out - what?!). moreover, most people spoke excellent english, which was a definite surprise (and relief) for me. we did put some individual effort into learning some basic phrases before we arrived, which always makes a huge difference; starting with a few words in someone’s native language can result in a major change in the attitudes of people you meet along the way! plus, it’s fun to learn new ways to communicate.

the first half of our frunneymoon was spent exploring the city of athens, another amazingly historic place. if you can’t see the trend here, i like history-cations. we had an absolute blast for four days in the city. my favourite part (no surprises here) was seeing the ancient ruins; the enduring presence of millennia of history never ceases to astound me. i loved climbing up the acropolis, seeing the remnants of what was once the shining city on the hill that birthed modern democracy. we stood under the shadow of the parthenon, and it wasn’t difficult at all to imagine what it must have been in its glory days. (the full-scale replica in nashville helped a bit on that front.) we walked along the same paths that some of the greatest thinkers in history – plato, socrates, aristotle – might have strolled down, expounding on their philosophies to the young men who followed in their wake. it was so easy to picture that ancient city, the thriving culture that truly believed itself to be the pinnacle of all human history.

even apart from the overwhelming historical significance, athens was wonderful. we had some truly excellent food – i never liked gyros until i went to greece! like morocco, everything was fresh and often made right in front of you… also, the feta cheese was incredible. the best thing we ate, though, was the yogurt. yes, greek yogurt. on the recommendation of one of liz’s belmont friends, we went and found the yogurt shop “around the corner from the acropolis metro station, across from the gelato shop” and it. was. incredible. we went the first day.. and the second.. and the third.. and the fourth. literally, we ate this yogurt every day we were in athens. it was so fresh and creamy and delicious, and you could add fruit or cereal.. and then the honey. oh my lord, the honey… i have never had anything so delectable. i got the same thing every day – regular yogurt with bananas, corn flakes, and pine honey. the last day i added strawberries. i had to ask panos (the worker, who i ended up friending on facebook because he was so awesome) to give me the same quantity in a bigger cup so i could mix it all better. sigh… i miss you, fresko yogurt bar.

our time in athens wasn’t just spent eating yogurt on the acropolis, though. we saw a good part of the city in those four days! everything from the more modernized “academy” and national library to the little shopping streets of the plaka neighborhood. we checked out a couple museums, the panathenaic olympic stadium (the birthplace of the modern olympics), saw an enormous group of soccer fans gathering in a huge park on their way to a game, and even made some friends in our hostel. on the recommendation of the internet, we took an afternoon/evening trip out to the coast, to the temple of poseidon at sounio. it’s this isolated little temple on the tippy top of a cliff, overlooking the mediterranean on three sides. kind of makes sense why poseidon would want a temple there! we enjoyed watching a gorgeous sunset before taking the final bus back to the city. our last night, we hiked (read: took the cable car) to the top of the tallest hill in athens, lycabettus hill. there’s a teeny little church on top, and a restaurant, and that’s about it! we treated ourselves to a nice dinner, looking out over the city as the sun set and the lights started to twinkle. seeing the parthenon lit up from a different vantage point was certainly awe-inspiring!

on the fifth morning, we headed to the port to catch our boat for the second half of the frunneymoon… but i think that’s a story for a different post. :) if you would like to see photos from greece, check out this facebook album!

beir bua agus beannacht

if you take a look around the social media world today, you’ll likely be able to identify several key themes: drinking, green clothing, fake beards and comically-oversized top hats, shamrocks galore. such is the state of one of my favourite holidays – an excessively-commercialized mess of a celebration, when an entire culture gets diminished to a few caricatures and stereotypes. people who couldn’t even locate ireland on a map are suddenly popping out of the woodwork with “kiss me, i’m irish!” t-shirts and a plastic cup of diluted green beer in each hand. 

while partying with friends is all well and good, for me, saint patrick’s day is about history and family. more than any other day, st. paddy’s day always reminds me of my gran, my mom’s mom. as the granddaughter of irish immigrants on both sides of her family, she took her heritage to heart. and even though we lived on the opposite side of the country, she always made sure that my sister and i were stocked up for our celebrations – without fail, we would receive boxes of cookies, buttons that boasted an irish ancestry, some freshly-crocheted or sewn article of green clothing… i can still remember the clear, plastic boxes with the crumpled tissue paper inside, trying so hard to provide safe passage to the already-crumbling baked goods within. only a grandmother would send cookies across a continent. looking back, i can comfortably say that it was gran who instilled my love of ireland in me from an early age. growing up so far away made any contact special, and her passion for her ancestry found a comfortable home in my sensitive little heart. that curiosity has been fed by my saint of a mother, who has dedicated endless hours of research to filling in the straggly branches of the family tree. thanks to her work, i can name most of my ancestors, all the way back to the early 1800’s. with a few blank spaces left to fill, we know the birthdays, the marriage anniversaries, and the death dates of the past four generations! the combination of gran’s cultural passion and my mom’s documented support gave me a strong sense of attachment and pride in my “people” that i hold to this day.

ask anyone who has ever spent half an hour with me, and they’ll tell you – i’m a sucker for nostalgia. for better or for worse, i love reliving the past and imagining back even further. it’s why i love europe so much; the history is so alive here, so palpable in each castle wall and stone bridge. who lived in that tower? crossed that little foot bridge? nothing makes me feel so connected to the universe as standing in a place where i can almost see the passage of time whirling around me. for that same reason, i’ve always been interested in my own personal history – how did i come to be the person that i am? i love creating stories to go with the names i see on my family tree, imagining how the circumstances had to be exactly right for my great-great-great-grandparents to meet. in fact, today i learned that two of my great-great-great-grandfathers (one from each side of my mom’s family tree) lived at the same time in the same county in ireland. i cannot describe how tickled i am by the thought that they might have known each other – however unlikely that might be, it’s not that unlikely. mayo is a large county, but it’s not impossible! how i would love to have a time machine, just to go back and find them two of them, sit them down (in my fantasy, they aren’t at all disturbed by a time-traveling descendant appearing in the town), and tell them that one day, a hundred years in the future, william’s great-great-granddaughter would marry michael’s great-great-grandson, somewhere across the ocean in america. i can just see those two men laugh with the same twinkle in their eyes that my papa has now, hear my gran’s tone of amusement and wonder in the “how about that?” they’d utter with delight. few things fascinate me more than imagining the lives and loves and joys and sorrows behind the names in those little boxes..

it came as no surprise when, years after this ancestral soft spot had developed in my spirit, the irish students down the hall became some of my closest friends while studying abroad in france. the first time i went to ireland to see them, it was more than just a visit to see friends. as cliché as it may sound, i had the distinct feeling of homecoming. and as i began to meet more and more people, that sensation only became more concrete. there were moments when i swear i could feel gran smiling down on me from her little cloud in heaven, saying “see? i told you, these are your people.” and it’s true – over the last three years, i’ve been lucky enough to return several times to that magical little island, and each time, it has been harder to leave. i’ve continued to add friend after friend to a wonderful list, to the point where i could hardly count the number of faces i’d love to see during my next visit. and in fact, my next trip to ireland will be even more special, because this time, i will get to have my mom and aunt with me! i can’t wait to show them the country i’ve grown to love so much more over the last three years. they won’t need much convincing – they have the soft spot, too. it will be so lovely to share a week of bonding with them, watching them fall under the same spell that enchanted me so long ago.

while most people i know are out partying to celebrate their irish heritage, my homage came in the form of something a little more subdued. i couldn’t help but write out my feelings today – sometimes, i am overwhelmed by my nostalgia, both for my own experiences and for those of my great-great-great-grandparents. i suppose all i can say is, éirinn go brách, mo chairde. and, as my wise friend donnchadh taught me, beannachtaí na féile pádraig ort agus ar do chuid.  ireland forever, my friends. the blessings of the feast of saint patrick on you and yours.

seeing blue - morocco, part three

after a few days in fez, we moved on to our final moroccan stop – a beautiful town called chefchaouen, tucked into the mountains in the north of the country. it is most known for one unique, unifying trait common among the buildings in the old medina – back in the 30’s, jewish refugees painted most of the medina  crisp, clear powder blue. in addition to creating a calming, cool atmosphere in the heat of summer, the combination of whitewash, blue accents, and orange-tiled roofs makes for some absolutely wonderful photography. our two days in chefchaouen were spent hiking up the surrounding mountains, wandering through the streets, taking photos every six seconds, and generally relaxing. since there isn’t very much to do in the tourism department, we took advantage of the atmosphere and had a wonderfully laid-back few days. we also ate – a lot. food in morocco is really good, and really cheap, so we didn’t skimp! the final tajine we had ended up being my favourite; something about the roasted chicken and veggies, swimming in spiced oils just begging to be mopped up with the bread… and all for less than 4 euro. drool.

chefchaouen also reemphasized another observation i’d made a few times throughout my travels in morocco – as a culture, moroccans are exceptionally kind and hospitable. having remarked upon that to a few different people (our friend zakaria, the bus driver for our excursion, the hostel workers, etc), each person responded with the same explanation: it’s part of the muslim faith to be welcoming to strangers. now, as someone who makes a very conscious effort to be globally minded and accepting, i have to confess that the circumstances of my american upbringing had not instilled that preconceived notion into my mindset. consciously, i had no worries about going to morocco, but i did recognize that it was my first foray outside of the mainly judeo-christian world i’d been immersed in up until then. i could not have been more unfounded in my expectations – no matter where we went, we were immediately offered a place to sit, or at least some tea. locals were friendly and liked to chat when possible, and i never, not even once, felt any kind of hostility towards me – not based on race, religion, or even sex. (note: getting harassed in the medina is a different story – that’s part of the market culture, and not, i believe, indicative of moroccan culture as a whole.) we had conversations about religious differences that i would have paid dearly to record and show to certain people back home – i’ve heard much worse come out of the mouths of self-proclaimed christians. but that’s a whole different issue, and i’ll go ahead and step down off my soap box…

after chefchaouen, it was time to head back to europe. during the planning of this trip, the history nerd in me had developed a sort of fixation on crossing the strait of gibraltar in a boat. i just couldn’t get over the amount of history – real, literary, mythological. that 8 mile stretch of water could be argued as the most significant water passage in the world, and i wanted to cross it! so, we took another (very, very uncomfortable and unpleasant 4 hour long) bus ride from chefchaouen to tangier, where we boarded the ferry and bobbed our way between continents. it’s amazing to realize just how close spain and morocco are at that point – you can see one continent from the other, even on a hazy day. the crossing was uneventful (except for my nerding out), and we arrived back in europe without much fanfare… except i could feel my wallet shriveling back up after the wonderful dirham. alas. with great luck, we made it from the port to the bus station exactly one minute before the bus we needed to be on was scheduled to depart, and so there was pretty much no waiting around in between modes of transportation! another 3 hours saw us pulling into sevilla, our “post-africa, reacclimation to europe” spot. 

all in all, we were in sevilla for about 36 hours – not nearly enough to really even count having been there, but a nice treat on the back end of our trip! after the insanely long and complex travel day we had on friday, it was all we could muster to meet a few people on our hostel rooftop, eat some paella, and have a little night cap before crashing into bed.  our full day on saturday was a lovely example of what a “spanish day” should be. first, we appreciated the monuments and visited the cathedral and the alcazar in the morning – i loved seeing the amount of detailing in the stone carving and tile so present throughout the city. after our historical touring, we enjoyed a nice, laid-back lunch of tapas and sangria, followed by some gelato in the early afternoon. then, we followed the spanish example and took our siesta in the mid-afternoon… a much-needed and welcomed pause. our big treat on saturday was a visit to the “world’s only” flamenco museum, located just down the street from our hostel. we got a private tour through the museum, and then had the opportunity to see two professional dancers do an hour performance in the museum. my thighs were burning just watching all the tiny, intricate movements – it’s no wonder those dancers were 100% muscle! such an incredibly passionate and emotive dance; we loved it! we finished the night with some pasta in the hostel and some hang-out-time with some of the other travelers. but it was early to bed again – no rest for the weary!

first thing sunday morning, we made our way to the airport, for an 8am flight to toulouse. originally, we had planned on staying in toulouse with a friend of lauren’s… but the moment i stepped foot back on french soil, i just wanted to be home. so, i did a little impromptu train research and ended up heading home a day early! what’s another 5 hours on the train, really. my guardian angel friend mathilde came to pick me up from the train station in perigueux, and i was home in time for a late dinner and my beeeed! in keeping with my previous travels, i was happy to be home, so i could finally relax after all that vacation! :) aaand that’s the end of my moroccan adventure – in a word, wonderful. pictures from chefchaouen and sevilla are here (starting at 148)!

camel friends and exfoliation - morocco, part two

oookay, let’s get this second installment going!

as a precursor to this next bit, let me just say that, generally, i stay as far away from guided tours as i possibly can. in nearly every circumstance, i prefer to do the planning myself and enjoy every moment of the exploration once i get to a new place… but i had one item on my moroccan must-do list that was basically impossible for me to accomplish without paying some kind of professional, and that was to ride a camel. preferably in the saharan desert. so, early in the morning on our third day in marrakech, lauren and i crept down the dark stairs of our hotel and waited for the quiet knock of our tour company’s representative, who was sent to retrieve us. we followed him down the street to the plaza where all the tour vans were parked, waiting for the droves of tourists who were leaving that day on various excursions. after a slight hiccup with the number of passengers in our first van (no, 16 people is not the same as 15, and no, you cannot just “squeeze” in the back), we joined a different group and started to get acquainted with our new friends. there were three germen men, two chinese guys, an italian couple (shout out to fred and maria vittoria!), an indian girl, a girl from vancouver, and us. we’d chosen the two day / one night excursion, which ended up meaning a whole lot of van time and not much outside time… you live and you learn, i guess. but when you’re driving through the high atlas mountains, a view from the window is still pretty awe-inspiring! 

we stopped a few times on the way out to the desert, most notably at the fortified city of ait ben haddou – famous for being the city to film any movie with a middle eastern / african / sometimes ancient roman vibe. we’re talking lawrence of arabia, prince of persia, gladiator, even game of thrones… and despite all that, the handful of families that still live in this ancient kasbah do so without running water or electricity. after that afternoon spot, we high-tailed it out to the city of zagora, which was our last stop in “civilization” before the camel portion of our trek. when we pulled up to the dirt lot where our camels were waiting, about five miles outside of zagora, i felt this little twinge of excitement – one of those “i am about to do this, and it is something awesome” feelings. we loaded up the “saddle” bags (woven bags draped on either side of a few camels) and hopped up. and i say “hopped” because i literally had to jump a little bit, even with the camel kneeling down… those things are enormous! when mine finally stood up, my head was about 15 feet off the ground. which was slightly disconcerting at first, but the awesome vantage point it gave me to look out over the expansive landscape quickly outweighed any uneasiness i felt. and to top it off, we set out to our camp just as the sun was setting, which was a miraculously beautiful sight. the camel trek lasted about an hour and a half, which meant that by the end of it, the sky was pitch black in all directions, and filled with more stars that i have ever seen. we saw a few lights off in the distance, but eventually, we were walking towards one tiny glow on the horizon, and i felt like i was almost riding through the sky. the fact that our guide knew exactly where to walk in the dark like that was incredible. 

when we arrived at the camp, we put our bags in the tents and sat for a bit of mint tea. then, the other guides had dinner waiting (harira soup and tajines, what else) so we spent the evening socializing around the tables, first with food and then with hookahs, before eventually moving outside to listen to some berber music around the campfire. in the morning, i woke up eaaaarly to watch the sun rise over the dunes by myself… and it was arguably even more breathtaking than the sunset. the light was so soft and everything had a sort of magical glow about it; the pictures did not do it justice. once everyone else in the camp had woken up, we had a quick breakfast of leftover bread and jam, with the ever-present mint tea, and then loaded up the camels for the return journey. i enjoyed soaking up the sounds and sights of the waking desert as we made our way to the rendez-vous point. from there, it was van time basically all the way back to marrakech! after a little refresh in the hostel room, lauren and i went and got dinner and tea with the italian couple, which was so fun! they are wonderful, and we had a great time talking for several hours – a fabulous way to end our time in marrakech!

after a comical, three-stooges-esque train ride (let’s just say the concept of a train “selling out” doesn’t exist, and neither does personal space, or personal hygiene), the next stop was fez, the cultural and spiritual capital of morocco; it also has one of the oldest and largest medinas in africa, and boasts several universities, one of which is certified by UNESCO as the oldest in the world! we stayed with a friend of connor’s, in a super cool riad tucked into the medina. ethan and his housemates were, like everyone else we encountered in morocco, exceedingly hospitable and generous. we had a blast getting to know them during our short stay – cooking dinner together, trying new restaurants (i highly recommend café clock if you’re ever in fez), and exploring the medina… which is absolutely enormous, and rather confusing until you get the hang of it. while we were only there for two full days, i really got the feeling that fez was the most “authentic” place we went. of course, there are plenty of tourists, but as you walk around the souk in the evening, you can see everyone going about their daily lives – buying food for dinner, greeting their neighbors, coming in and out of the mosques. it seemed less like a tourist trap (like marrakech) and more just like a glimpse into the inner workings of a city that has stood the tests of time. 

i also had the distinct realization in fez that moroccan culture, like so many other cultures in the world, is decidedly not one of waste. especially in the food/animal department… when a sheep is slaughtered, for example, the wool is used to make fabric, the skin is used for the leather goods you see for sale in the medina, the meat is sent a few streets over to the butcher stalls, and even the innards are given to the cats that roam the streets. it seems gruesome at first, when you spot a pile of skins, or a row of whatever body part (heads were particularly disconcerting), or a cat nibbling on some intestines… but then, it becomes almost comforting. i found myself enjoying the peace of mind that comes from watching the butcher grind your meat in front of you – there can be no questions as to what went into that kilo of kefta. and the leather flats that you buy haven’t moved more than 50 meters in their little, inanimate lives, because the tannery is just around the corner and the man you just paid is the man who made those shoes, probably a just few days before. it’s a far cry from the distanced, thoughtless consumerism we have in america, in all the best ways.

the coolest thing we did in fez, though, was going to the hammam. a hammam is a traditional public bathhouse… and talk about a real, moroccan experience. we got up close and personal with a steaming room full of mostly (if not completely) naked women, and had the top layer of skin basically stripped from our bodies in the process. the hammam is an interesting way to see the other side of the relatively conservative culture of the outside world. inside the safety of the hammam doors (there are no men inside during female hours, and vice versa), the women are free to show parts of themselves that never see the light of day. and i noticed that there was basically no evidence of any kind of self-conscious body language; the overall attitude was just, “yep, we’re all ladies here, we have the same parts, it doesn’t matter how they’re shaped.” if only just for that reason, it was something you’d never see in the states, and it was a really nice feeling. the other important service the hammam provides is purely social – for some of the women, it’s their only outing for the week, and they take advantage of the total freedom of expression that the privacy offers to chat freely with their friends and neighbors. plus, on top of all that, you get SO clean. despite the kind of grimy atmosphere (a very, very hot tile room constantly sloshed with water that you draw in buckets from a tub, the soap/skin/whatever else running off bodies onto the floor where you’re sitting), i have never felt so exfoliated and clean. we paid the extra few dirhams to have the resident hammam lady scrub us with the little black mitts we’d bought earlier… and she did not mess around. i was glowing like a lobster by the end of it, but it felt great! she also washed and brushed my hair for me, which is my #1 favourite thing. so, all in all, a fantastically entertaining and eye-opening experience.

i keep writing too much!! this will have to do for now – the final part will follow! pictures from this installment are here, beginning with number 67!

no hashuma - morocco, part one

hello again, friends!

i know it’s been a while… lots to catch you up on! i didn’t mention it at the end of my last blog, but i had another break for the second half of february (life is tough here) – hence, the radio silence. buckle in for a fun recap of the last three weeks!

but first, a little back story. last november, i did something slightly outside of my normal comfort zone; i bought a ticket to africa, to go visit a friend i’d never met in person, who is living and teaching in morocco as a fulbright fellow. sounds like the perfect setting for one of those internet catfishing horror stories, but we had been chatting on facebook for months, and had even started talking on skype at that point…. plus, i really wanted to go to morocco! besides, this year is all about challenging myself and stepping outside of my little glass box. so, i took that leap of faith while the tickets were still cheap! fast-forward three months, and my friend and i were skyping almost daily, thus alleviating basically all of my albeit-slight discomfort about flying to a different continent to stay with a stranger.  another contributing factor was the fact that another assistant in my region, lauren, saw my post about going to morocco and asked if i wanted to travel together. we skyped a few times and organized ourselves on a googledoc… in fairness, she took an even greater leap of faith, considering the fact that she’d never spoken to connor and we’d only talked a few times! but, it was another situation of starting out as strangers and ending up feeling like life-long friends!

by the time my departure rolled around, i was absolutely beside myself with excitement. i couldn’t wait to add another country (and continent!) to my growing list – especially one with such a vibrant culture as morocco. i also couldn’t wait to get to hang out with my new friends in person, as opposed to seeing them on my computer screen! getting to morocco was no mean feat – i took the train on a thursday afternoon up to paris, slept in the charles de gaulle airport, and then caught a 6am flight to agadir. staying overnight in an airport is a very interesting experience... you definitely get a whole new level of people watching. in retrospect, i should have gone through security when i got there at 10pm, because there were couches at the gates! i spent the night curled awkwardly between two metal arm rests, dozing in between the rounds of floor buffing / waxing that were happening around me. le sigh. but, i fell asleep almost instantly on the plane (even before the takeoff – unheard of, for me!) and slept for nearly the entire flight. so, all in all… a free night in paris! arriving in morocco was magical, because it was SUNNY! i hadn’t seen the sun in weeks, due to the incessant rain in central france. i immediately felt my vitamin d count start to rise, and with it, my spirits. i spent the rest of the trip trying my hardest to soak up as much sun as possible, and i have the freckles to show for it now!

my first stop was agadir, a southern city on the coast. connor is living there for the school year, teaching in the university. it was so fun to finally meet in person – one of those surreal “i don’t know you, but i do” kind of feelings. a few quick games of bananagrams quickly dispelled any potential awkwardness, followed by a warm nap on the rooftop terrace. the first afternoon, two of connor’s friends took us up to a surf town about thirty minutes away called taghazout, where i got to try surfing for the second time in my life. it’s still really hard, but so invigorating! we had a wonderful time exploring the beaches and enjoying my first (but certainly not last) glass of fresh mint tea. we didn’t do much “tourism” in agadir, as there is not too much to do (unless you’re staying at one of the several beach resorts). mainly, i just got to hang out with connor and his housemates and enjoy having new friends.  when lauren arrived two days later, we cooked a big mexican fajita feast for the house and sat up talking late into the night. it was a great way to ease back into social interaction, after the isolation of my normal life!

monday morning, lauren, connor, and i piled onto a big bus and headed up the coast, to a town called essaouira. we only stayed for a few days, but it ended up being one of my favourite places in morocco – a little oceanside town with a fun souk (market) and incredibly nice people. everyone from the hostel workers to the people next to us at our breakfast café seemed eager to welcome us to their country and make us feel at home. i fell in love with the textures and colours on constant display in the souk stalls: rugs, ceramics, leather goods, metal work, fresh food… you name it. even the physical buildings contributed to the aesthetic, with the warm oranges and browns standing in contrast to the brightly coloured doors and the crisp whitewash, all backed by an endless blue sky. while in essaouira, we met a moroccan student from marrakech named zakaria, who ended up being one of the highlights of our trip! we shared a fun afternoon together, jamming on a rooftop terrace overlooking the ocean, with a few other café friends – it was the first of many opportunities for philosophical discussion of culture and humanity, and i certainly cherish that memory already! in the souk, lauren and i had our first real introduction to bargaining, and got some pretty sweet deals on a few souvenirs and gifts (mainly thanks to connor, let’s be honest). the downside of the souk wandering is definitely all the catcalling – as foreign women, we had quite the array of phrases thrown our way, from “ohh beautiful!” to “hey, harry potter!” (my glasses) and “hannah montana!” (no clue). there were others that were much more unpleasant. honestly, though, with a decent sense of humour and a thick skin, it is not intolerable. you just have to write it off as part of the culture and let it slide off your back… and also, keeping a list of the best lines and laughing over it later doesn’t hurt!

another three hour bus ride brought us inland to what could arguably be morocco’s biggest party city. true to its reputation, marrakech was decidedly more tourist-oriented; certainly a big change from little essaouira. thankfully, we had zakaria as the best tour guide imaginable, so we got to experience the souk and surrounding area in a slightly more authentic way (read: we didn’t get harassed or ripped off, because we were with a moroccan). the enormous main plaza, place jema al fnae, is known as one of the biggest night-time spots in europe, and i can attest to that. it was absolutely teeming with people – eating at the food stalls, watching street performers, selling various trinkets, generally loitering… the introvert in me was definitely overwhelmed with the sheer number of people, but it was fascinating to see. despite the inundation of foreigners and locals alike, i did love walking around the twisty medina streets and simply taking photos; i have never been so visually inspired in my life! the catcalling was much worse in marrakech, and much worse when it was just me and lauren, without the boys. we got a couple marriage proposals (one including camels!), several creepy “oh wow/nice/beautiful/spicy” murmurs, and countless “hello/bonjour/hola” greetings (i suppose i could pass for spanish). thankfully, morocco still uses french as the language of tourism (thanks, french protectorat!), so we got by just fine, but picking up a few words in the local dialect, darija, made our experience much more comfortable! once you learn how to say “no, thank you” in arabic to the men trying to direct you into their stalls to view their purses/lamps/shoes/scarves/etc, it becomes easier to just keep on walking…

i actually think i’ll cut myself off here, because i’m only halfway through and already waaaay over my average word count… so, installment two should be up soon! in the meantime, here are the pictures from my trip, starting at photo 19! :)

thanksgiving, à la française

before i left the states back in early september, my mom went above-and-beyond the call of duty and made me a full thanksgiving dinner.  she was worried that i would be sad about missing out on the best meal of the year, so she pulled out all the stops. and i was truly grateful, because there is nothing like sitting in my dining room with my whole family and eating some seriously fantastic grub. and she was right, in a certain sense – today was a sad day, in a way. but the pang i felt in my heart when i thought about everyone gathering together back home without me was soothed in no small measure by the joy that i’ve gotten to experience during this season in france. not only did i get a bonus thanksgiving-in-august, but i got to celebrate it in three different ways over here in europe! so really, moving abroad just multiplies the festivity, if you can find the right people. and it certainly magnifies the sense of gratitude!

thanksgiving #1 - friendsgiving

this past week, i had the absolute privilege of sharing a thanksgiving meal with about 30 people, hosted by the home-church group that my friend devon and her husband attend in paris. the dinner was at the home of michael and sara, who live in a beautiful apartment in the marais district of paris and evidently have no qualms with welcoming all the waifs and strays! there were plenty of expats there, from all over the world, and a few native frenchies as well.. my friend jessie and i enjoyed getting to know several of the guests as we all chowed down on the standards – turkey, stuffing, potatoes, corn casserole, green bean casserole, cranberry sauce (!!!) – as well as some traditional dishes from other countries! and let’s not forget the desserts, which took up the entire table after the first round was cleared away. the atmosphere was lovely, the food was delicious, and the people were warm and welcoming – it truly felt like a family gathering, despite the fact that the majority of the group had never met. at the end of the evening, several of the church members made sandwiches with the leftovers and encouraged all of the guests to grab a few on the way out, so that we could share the bounty we had enjoyed with someone less-fortunate who looked like they could use something to eat. it was a really sweet gesture, totally in keeping with the attitude and generosity of everyone i met that evening. i ended up leaving one sandwich next to a woman sleeping bundle of ragged blankets in a little alcove down the street, and giving another to a man near notre dame, who sat under an umbrella with two little dogs tucked inside his over-sized coat. it wasn’t much, but i was happy to give someone a break from hunger, if only for one night.

thanksgiving #2 – chez moi

the sensation of immense gratitude carried over to monday, when i finally got home to my little village to find a thanksgiving package from home waiting for me on my doorstep! i knew it had been sent, but it was still such a nice surprise to see my mom’s handwriting smiling at me from my threshold the moment i got home. and the contents of that box were faaaantastic! here’s an inventory: poultry seasoning (for the stuffing!), jif peanut butter (per my request), cupcake baking cups, taco bell sauce packets, red sprinkles, a nature valley protein bar, turkey gravy mix and alfredo sauce mix from kroger, some christmas decorations, a sponge, betty crocker peanut butter cookie mix, some tea, airborne tablets, a turkey dishtowel, and a card. now, i know that some of those things might seem random or kind of meaningless… but it was so great. sometimes, it’s just nice to see things from home for novelty’s sake; i don’t even like taco bell, really, but those sauce packets made me smile! and i may live in one of the culinary capitals of the world, but there are times when absolutely nothing beats an apple and peanut butter. and the simple act of hanging that turkey-appliquéd dishtowel on my toaster oven’s handle made me feel like i was back in the kitchen at home. but i digress...

cooking for one is hard; i’ve said it before, but it’s never been more true when you’re cooking a meal that usually needs to serve a dozen people or more. i decided that i wanted to do a little thanksgiving meal for myself, just to get a taste of home, so i asked my mom to send my grandmother’s stuffing recipe (hence the poultry seasoning in my box). well! this morning, i made that stuffing, and let me tell you… it was great. i toasted, cubed, and staged the bread last night, so it was all nice and dried-out by the morning! the process itself was simple – sautée onions and celery, add chicken stock and seasoning, mix in bread cubes, put in oven – but the act of making it gave me such a feeling of nostalgia! granted, i’ve never been the one to make the stuffing before, but just having the smell in my apartment was enough to make me feel like i was back in franklin. i also made a teensy serving of mashed potatoes and got two turkey breast fillets from the supermarket – three cheers for a thanksgiving dinner for one! and as a bonus, i skyped my parents while they were at our big extended family dinner, so i even had the chance to say hi to everyone!

thanksgiving #3 – sharing the message at school:

as an english assistant, i’m somewhat of an ambassador between my american culture and that of my students. last week and this week, a few of my teachers took advantage of the holiday season to talk about america – in some of the younger classes, that meant discussing thanksgiving! i can’t explain how strange it was to hear a holiday that i’m so familiar with boiled down to the bare bones – “it’s a day where families gather to eat a turkey and pray to God.” i mean… that’s true for some people, i guess, so i couldn’t correct them. but i enjoyed the lessons, because it was a great opportunity for me to share what thanksgiving really means. the kids had basically no idea (short of the turkey/God thing), so i had a blank slate! after a little reflection, i told them that thanksgiving was a day where families gather together and shared a meal (had to keep the english level pretty simple..) in order to express their gratitude for everything they have. despite being a historically catholic country, france is exceptionally unreligious, so i tried to stay away from talking about thankfulness in purely a religious sense. also, explaining the concept of blessings was difficult. the story of the first thanksgiving was also challenging. historically, the whole “pilgrims and indians eating together” might not be entirely accurate… but at least it gives a better origin story than “we kinda just came and displaced and/or killed pretty much everyone, and then centuries later, the government arbitrarily decided to create a holiday about it for commercial purposes.” sooooo… pilgrims and indians it is. i focused more on the fellowship and quality time aspects of the holiday. :)

so, in summary, i am thankful for…

…a God who loves me unconditionally and never fails to provide for me, 

who lets me make mistakes so i can learn the way i learn best,
 and who blesses me endlessly every day.

…a family who supports me and encourages my insatiable desire for adventure.

…a job that allows me to pursue those adventures, 

while simultaneously providing new experiences in and of itself.

...coworkers and students who are supportive, engaging, and patient.

…a body that puts up with all the shenanigans i put it through 

and remains in moderately good health – traveling is hard, y’all!

…a wonderful apartment in a great community.

…the people i love who are spread out all over the world (literally).

…the miracle of technology, which lets me stay connected with aforementioned 
loved ones via various social media.

…peanut butter.

happy thanksgiving, everyone! :)

ps - i documented my little thanksgiving cooking experience here if you’d like to see it!

                                                        

meeting in the middle

this week at school was eye-opening on a professional and cultural level. i had the opportunity to just sit in the back and observe a little more than normal (as opposed to taking small groups into the media lab to lead discussions) and i also got to speak with several of my older students about their opinions and pre-existing understanding of the usa. so, in a multitude of ways, i got a first-hand look into several parts of what makes this country the way it is… something i would dearly love to understand.

i’ve always toyed with the idea of teaching – to put it very simply, i love knowing things, and i love sharing that knowledge with others. i’m generally a patient and encouraging person, and i try to nurture learners in whatever way they need. i even started college thinking i was going to get my master’s in education and be a high school teacher. it took about 4 weeks of my first education class before i realized that i didn’t want to go that route. too much administration in the schools and not enough kids enthusiastic about foreign languages these days made for a less-than-appealing career path. i tutored french all through college, however, and i really loved it. my passion for imparting knowledge and the joy i feel when something finally clicks with my student… that never went away. the thought of coming here to france to teach english seemed like a happy medium; i always thought i would teach french, but i was afraid the years of standardization and less-than-enthusiastic teenagers would drain me of my love for it. here, as an english assistant, i’m sort of on my home turf, even though i’m thousands of miles away. being a native anglophone levels the playing field, in a certain regard, because there is no doubt in these kids’ minds that they could benefit from my help. so far, i’ve enjoyed the teaching aspects of my job – the satisfaction of helping students understand something difficult hasn’t changed a bit, and i’m learning a lot about teaching a foreign language (even if it isn’t foreign to me). for example, sometimes, when you ask what you expect is a very simple question, it might take the class 15 minutes to arrive at the answer – some of the subconscious connections you make in your mind just aren’t natural outside of your mother tongue. i certainly feel that way in french a lot of the time! while it can be frustrating to be patient and let the kids arrive there on their own, the final result is all the more exhilarating.

today, i got to have several short one-on-one discussions with some of the “terminale” students, who are in their last year of high school. at the end of this year, when they take their enormously important final exams, they are supposed to be able to comfortably and coherently express themselves in english, on a multitude of topics. part of the evaluation involves a 5 minute presentation, followed by a 5 minute question-and-answer session, which can be incredibly daunting, even in one’s native language. in an effort to get the kids used to speaking, we do these interview sessions, speed-dating style. today’s questions all centered around the usa, which made it even more interesting for me! i got to ask the students questions such as, “what do you know about american history?” and “what do you think about american culture?” not surprisingly, all of their answers regarding american history were about the world wars, and they told me they thought americans were more friendly but more concerned with superficial things (and ate lots of macdonalds). in return, i was challenged with questions like “what do you think the usa will be like in 50 years?” and “what do you think the average american is like?” it was an exceptionally interesting afternoon for me, both in hearing their points of view and trying to critically examine and express my own.

anyway, remember how i said i was living in perpetual vacation? well, tomorrow after work, i’m heading to bordeaux so i can be there for a mandatory, visa-validating medical check-up on wednesday. aaand, since i wouldn’t be able to get back to excideuil until thursday afternoon (thanks, bus schedules), i asked off for wednesday and thursday… therefore granting me a 5.5 day weekend (i live in opposite land). i’m taking advantage of my long weekend to go visit some friends from the states up in gay paree. since bordeaux is a major city, it’s very well-served by the train system – just under 4 hours on a high-speed train to paris! i’ll get there late wednesday evening and leave eeearly monday morning, getting back in time for work at 2pm! :) blog about that to follow!