Assistant to the Assistant Regional Manager

Oooh Nelly! We have gone from leisurely days filled with trips to the Supermarche and ample internet lolly gagging to full-on actual WORK!  Our classes got underway just as our first visitor Bob arrived and two conferences that required our attendance took place around town.  Luckily, Bob is a seasoned traveler who willingly ventures out on his own and is easily entertained. For example, when asked what he wants to do he has replies such as, "I'd like to sit at a cafe and read for a couple of hours." Or our itinerary for beach day, "Let's get a Harira soup breakfast, then get newspapers in French and Spanish, and have coffees at a BEACH cafe." Can do Bobby boy! While most of these cafe trips turned into gab sessions, I appreciate an easily pleased traveler.  This is not to say we weren't into seeing the sites. Bob and I took a day trip to a local gem of a town called Taroudant which is about an hour or so outside of Agadir.  It is a walled city with tons of bicyclists and bustling energy and also host to one of the best restaurants I've had the pleasure of dining in so far.  Lucky for me, I 'll be giving some teacher workshops there and will definitely have more chances to eat this delicious food. Take a gander...

The restaurant has a rooftop terrace, but Bob and I were drawn to this room and sat down before we realized we could have eaten up there.  The room supplied great views nonetheless...

Let's take a small tour around my new favorite thing: Moroccan Salad.  These little lettuce boats are filled with (from the top clockwise): an eggplant dish similar to a caponata but less tomato flavor, tender little potato squares that were buttery and herby, a melange of vegetables that had delicious spice and herb action, caramel rich carrot pieces, also buttery delicious, and herbs mixed with diced tomatoes under the lemon. In between were roasted peppers with olives.  It was heaven!

Bob was on a mission for Pigeon Pastilla a traditional Moroccan meat and pastry pie. Unfortunately, you have to order it two hours in advance here and they were out. Instead, he went for the pigeon tagine with prunes and almonds.  The pigeons aren't just nabbed off a window ledge, they are specially raised and more rare, thus the special order. It tastes a lot like duck.

I had couscous with chicken and big tender chunks of vegetables including sweet potato! It was served with a rich broth with a few carrots and veggies in it that you spoon over the couscous to ensure you will die from all the rich fabulous flavors.

A note about desserts.  I usually harbor a real disappointment in the idea of fruit in and of itself as a dessert.  Fruit covered in a crispy, crumbly topping with whipped cream?? SURE! Fruit as a dessert is much more common in most parts of the non-United States world, and of course can be done well.  The fruit dessert at one of our conference luncheons was a small plate with a whole banana, whole orange, and whole apple. Healthy, but not exciting.  This dish below, however, was divine and oh so simple. Orange pieces peeled and sliced and sprinkled with cinnamon and powdered sugar. See? So, simple and somehow perfect.  I will make this at home! (...and serve it with two small cookies on the side because I can't help myself!)

Ry is categorically against desserts that don't have multiple textures, so any type of flan or custard is never a real option when sharing, but he wasn't here...so since Bob got the orange dish, I got the creme caramel and it was tasty flanny goodness.

and of course...tea.

It is absolutely worth the bus ride alone just to have this meal.  Our bus home was delayed, but we entertained ourselves with some of my favorite road trip/idle time games and thus an extended session of Botticelli was enjoyed by all.

The larger conference was on the state and status of language(s) in Morocco.  Interesting presentations on Moroccan Arabic, Standard Arabic, Amazigh, and French.  Most of the presentations were in French, but a few were in English. By the end of the third day our brains were overstimulated with language use, policy and identity issues and French language bombardment.  It was great to meet an international crew of scholars mostly from Europe or Morocco (and a couple Americans) who are so interested in language issues.  We again found ourselves to be the language chumps when multiple presenters were a Spanish or Dutch scholar working on Moroccan Arabic, who presented in French, and answered questions in English.

We are also language chumps because we had to skip our Derija class last week.  The course is picking up speed and all of the students have a tired look by 9pm.  After the last class I also made a public vow to never again write on the board in cursive! I spend half of the class deciphering if it is a french cursive 'b' or 'l +u'. Yet another new sympathy I have for my language students!

Last but not least: Halloween and the great October Nor'easter! After the conference Ry went to Marrakech to meet up with Bob for his last days in Morocco. Beyond being another treasure trove of a city to discover, Marrakech had a bakery with pumpkin and ghost cookies! He brought this little guy home and when I opened it I couldn't believe how much he matched all the pictures of snow covered Jack-o-lanterns I'm seeing from friends on the East coast. I think this pumpkin cookie also shares the expression many in the Northeast have dealing with snow in October! This cookie is a small comfort because boy do we miss Halloween. Hope it was a good one everybody!

I..am.....job.

Our school...

Thanks everyone for all the blogosphere praise...to make it on the bookmark favorite bar of so many dear ones, well, I have arrived.  I owe it to my readership to keep a better post schedule as I see you've been stuck with Mr. Rogers' voice in your head for far too long!

Our Derija class.  What is it called when you study a foreign language that is explained in another foreign language?  I know I'm teaching a methodology course this semester, but the term escapes me.  Something about Dual Brain Explosionapedia....it feels like we are immigrants in a dual language immersion school.  At least as  regular immigrants American-style we would be taught solely in the target language, left to flail in only one new language!  As I mentioned, all of our classmates are French, so they fire off frenchy questions and the teacher explains or confirms in equal rapid fire.  The teacher asked me to explain as I could to Ry, who is getting good French practice, but is also getting a little lazy as he noticed my notes were both legible and organized, and stopped taking his own. (If he thinks he is copying mine...)

It is still good language fun, but mentally tiring...I had a weird, not deja-vu experience, but the feeling of experiencing something you've only witnessed many times.  After an hour + or so into the class, blood-sugar waning, finished with all the objectives on the hand-out, I had a feeling class was nearly over.  Then the teacher asked us to flip the page where another full side of exercises awaited us. THAT is when I had the same feeling and expression I've seen from my own students for years....the, WAIT!...oh, there's more reaction.

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings...

In other news, we've been holed up gearing up for classes. Still some delays with classes commencing, but I think we are finally on for this Friday...unless plans change.  Ry will be teaching a Post-Colonial Literature class to Master's students, so he has had to prepare at Mach-10 because the students have 'already read' the texts.  We've set up shop in the 'blue room' where we can see some beautiful views from our gilded cage.

Mr. Rogers Routine

When we come home from an outing I've noticed I have a bit of a Mr. Rogers routine.  Long-sleeved sweater on the hook, switch to shorts, change to indoor shoes. Ry has his version of the same routine.  On one hand we are changing to cooler clothes, but also it prolongs the 'nicer' clothes between washing.  We wear our clothes longer here due to not wearing them all day, having a washer that can only wash 5 kilos or less at a time, and the process of hanging our clothes to dry.  Using less resources this way helps make a small dent in our no-recycling-system-in-Morocco guilt.  The plastic bottle guilt can keep you up at night! Oh, and if you haven't seen Mr. Rogers' defense of PBS and his show before the Senate when Nixon wanted to cut the budget in half, you better tack on a little time to your 'blog checking and other non-work related distractions' time, 'cause it's a gem!

La Mediathèque is the New Bibliothèque...

We left off in the last post filled with excitement for our first Derija class.  We've had a few HOT days in a row and as I mentioned we keep a low midday profile as we are true north-westerners and are used to existing under a blanket of gray clouds.  The sun is too much for our pale delicate skin and we go from jovial to irritable in 0.5 seconds when it is over 70 degrees.  Setting off into the early evening for our class we could immediately tell that it had been a scorcher. It was still well into the 80s...AT NIGHT!  We arrived to our class and were surprised at how enthusiastically all of our Francophone classmates greet everyone when they walk into the class. I was convinced every newcomer was the instructor with their cheery 'BONSOIR!' Seattleites tend to just slink into class and quietly slip behind a desk and look at their hands until the teacher arrives. Not here! Everyone is super excited for class. We all had our little notebook and a pen. Everyone chatted in French except the two Americans who just chatted in American.  When an administrator we'd seen downstairs came in all flustered, I knew something was amiss. Our teacher was 'malade' and he had to cancel the class, or we could wait twenty minutes and another instructor would come. There was such a flurry of French discussion and concerned looks you would think we were on the Titanic and the news of the iceberg just hit.  Finally, it was collectedly decided that we would reschedule our first class. We all gave each other shared disappointed looks, and the language nerds marched off into the balmy night.  

The next day redeemed all Institute Francais disappointment as we made use of our new library privileges.  I'm a sucker for libraries. They are sacred spaces for me, and this one is a sweet little refuge with tons of natural light and little nooks for paging through magazines and books.  When I initially asked in my sloppy French if we could use the library before classes actually started, the woman kept telling me something about the 'mediatheque'.  I would ask my question again in a different way, and then she would again reply with something about this 'mediatheque'.  Finally I asked, La mediatheque, c'est une bibliotheque, mais avec l'ordinateurs (computers)? She laughed and said of course. To be on the cutting edge of the digital age, libraries can't be good old libraries anymore, what with all the DVDs, CDs, computers, internet, and 'other' media....biblio is just as dead as print.

Look at the goodies we scored. You can check out exactly: 4 books, 4 periodicals, 4 comic book-like books, 1 DVD, and one CD or CD-ROM. 

I just finished reading Patti Smith's incredible and highly recommended memoir Just Kids about (in part) her young adulthood in New York as a struggling artist who took inspiration from many French poets.  In her honor we got this book of Rimbaud's poems that are illustrated in comic book form.

Another score is this children's vocabulary book that is for French speaking learners of Arabic.

I love the drawings and this one couldn't be more true. It makes me think of all the gardeners out there who are raking in the last of the big harvest before putting their beds to bed.  We DO ENJOY FINDING AS MANY THINGS AS POSSIBLE!

As Ry started his beginning French class and wants to improve his aural skills, we got this book with accompanying cd about a skunk who loses his glasses all the time. Again, so many sweet drawings.

Last but not least: One of my favorite, weird, book-related hobbies is I LOVE to find notes, lists, messages, anything in a used book or library book. I was drooling over a book about Paris that has a lovely hand-drawn and labeled map of the Metro when this fell to the floor.  A secret love note? The directions to something in Paris with heart doodles? I'll post a translation as soon as my Arabic speaking  and reading friends report back with what this says!

Tower of Babel

Learning a language is such a funny business.  It makes you so vulnerable as it renders you childlike in your initial stages. The smiling and nodding, the hand gestures. Saying 'yes' to questions or statements you don't understand.  All this flailing and anxiety is at the heart of why I love being a language teacher.  To watch people go from the struggle to the skill is such a treat.  As a teacher you get to witness empowerment in a very short span of time, so for me, it's a great way to spend your workday.

Ry had his first French class today and he likened it to the Saturday Night Live episode where Chris Farley's character finds himself accidentally as a contestant on a Japanese game show.  A brilliant Farlian performance as he emphatically explains in loud, slow, English that he doesn't 'under--stand--Jap-a-nese, th-ere haas beeen a little mis-taaake.'

In this short skit (all stereotypes aside) they capture the thrill of actually communicating (or thinking you did) and ultimately the punishment of mispronunciation as he is electrocuted for transposing a 'b' sound and a 'p' sound in his answer.

Ry pointed out the importance of class dynamics. His class has many Moroccans who clearly comprehend much more than the level requires, which makes the true beginners intimidated...the Moroccans are there to work on their writing. The only other English speaker is a Canadian who at one point, with a big blank stare, slowly shook her head and said in English, "I'm sorry is that a QUESTION?!!"  Most everyone is in the same place of confusion, but Ry thinks it is important to have at least one person who you know you are stronger than, and he is glad to play that role for his fellow classmates.

In a few hours we will have our Derija (Arabe Dialectal) class and I'm looking forward to it because a teacher can learn a lot by being back behind the other side of the desk!

What's Been Going On?

School won't get underway until next week.  Our apartment is a cool refuge from the midday heat, so we've been doing lots of reading, prepping for classes, lounging.  Late afternoon is prime time for a stroll. We often pass this central Mosque on the way to the beach...

We also had a nice tour up the coast with a new pal and amazing and passionate high school educator, Fahmi.  The road along the coast is very similar to 101 through California.  Lots of winding along jagged coastal walls with sweet beach coves and some prime surf spots!

 Checking the break...

We are also seizing any cultural opportunity possible. Overnight a giant banner went up advertising a jazz show at the Institute Francais with a French piano player, a Djembe drummer from Burkina Faso, and a Moroccan musician pictured below who played this instrument, and then an Oud like guitar. It was stellar!

On a strangely humid day we strolled the beach, then had a coffee right near the ocean and watched some very talented local soccer players.  They all have a great touch! It's pretty incredible.

Fish market...which later we were warned by colleagues to avoid as it can be 'dangerous'. Oh.

This weekend is an Amazigh film festival.  Amazigh are the indigenous North Africans. There has been a renaissance of Amazigh (also known as 'Berber') culture, language, and identity movements in Morocco with Amazigh recently made a national language in the constitution.  Many people in the south speak the language, and while the written form is more rare, you can see it on many signs.  Below is from an advertisement for the Beach Volleyball Championships which are being held here. The first is in Arabic, then Amazigh, then French.  The Amazigh is written with such interesting symbols...it reminds me a little of Greek.  We saw a documentary last night at the festival that recorded rural singers and musicians singing/chanting about topics ranging from love, art, and the Amazigh history, to the resurgence and importance of Amazigh pride.  It was really powerful...even though most of what I could understand was in the French translation.

Our next big adventure is we are taking a Derija class which is the Moroccan spoken dialect of Arabic.  R. is also going to be taking a beginner's French class, so we are throwing ourselves into the linguistic mix that is Morocco! 

A Walk Down Junk Food Lane

This was a birthday 'card' for a good friend who is partial to Pringles.  She is a very experienced world traveler, and even more experienced connoisseur of foreign and domestic snacks.  We both appreciate the local preferences in flavor as they are often much different than the US.  Oh say for example...Roasted Chicken and Thyme anyone?  It tastes like Thanksgiving...and since we will be abroad for one of our favorite holidays maybe we will only have a bowl of these Poulet et Thymes to remind us of the cozy November meal.

Other flavors of interest and strangeness: The classic 'Ketchup', 'Bolognaise', 'Cheeseburger', 'Pizza Pepperoni', and my personal favorite: 'Moutard Pickles' which you might have guessed is 'Mustard and Pickles'.  This post is dedicated to Dirk and his general store.

If one were to base our general diet on this blog, one would think we are just sitting around stuffing our faces with strange flavored chips and frozen pizzas. Only partially true! We are also enjoying the fruits of autumn even though it feels like the height of a Seattle summer here.

A little roasted poulet of our own and beautiful root veggies!

Rhymes with Orange

Instant bad mood cure for me is this little orange, orange, orange juice stand.  It is near the beach so by the time I've walked all the way there, dodging cars, sucking in diesel fuel, hot because it is 90 degrees and I insist on dressing modestly, I turn the corner and see this little guy with the green leaf (near the palm tree) and I feel instantly happy.  The best is when the little trap door (if you look closely you can see it) is open so the guy can climb in and out of the orange. It is like a little fruit space ship! 

On Coffee Snobbery

I'd like to introduce you all to a dear friend and constant companion: Le cafe 'nouss nouss'. Isn't she a beauty? We were taught 'coffee sign language' which comes in handy in a crowded cafe with the waiter far away. Instead of waiting for him to make his way to you and then do the back and forth with your order, you can wave, get his attention and use a number of hand signals to order.  The one for the nouss nouss is basically a karate chop three times in the air as if making a Z. 

I enjoy these when we are out, but for home use I must say we are limited to the Dubois instant and when feeling the need to celebrate: the VIA packets from Starbucks that I threw in my suitcase on a whim (thanks cousin Meg!)... Only now in our current situation am I reminded of my coffee snobbery and cringe.  Last autumn I was asked by a barista if I was willing to try 'Via' vs. regularly brewed coffee. Her training made her promise me I wouldn't be able to tell the difference. I shut down her bubbly enthusiasm when I guaranteed I could tell the difference and agreed to her blind taste test.  I passed with flying colors. You can't pass off instant on me! I was met with protocol follow-up: 'But it is a lot like the brewed isn't it?' Then my coffee snobbery got the best of me and in retrospect my foolishness is writ large.  She offered me free Vias and I DENIED them! What I wouldn't do to go back and accept those free Vias! They have become so precious that I actually save about 1 gram of coffee from each pack because we have 6 oz cups and they are designed for 8 ounces! If I budget correctly, I can get a whole extra cup of coffee out of those!  There you have it. 

This is my life right now. And this post is not sponsored by Starbucks. 

The Best Laid Plans...

Friday in Morocco is couscous day. Many people have a large and delicious couscous lunch, take a rest, and maybe return to work, or call it a day, depending on their situation.  For my birthday dinner, we decided to shift to a special lunch (see note re: couscous above).  When we first arrived in town, Abdellatif pointed out La Scala as a great traditional Moroccan restaurant. Our guide reiterated this suggestion so we set out toward the ocean in search of this restaurant. We got a bit turned around and it put us into a lengthy search that quickly eroded to more of a death march. Remember Chevy Chase wandering the desert looking for car help in National Lampoon's Family Vacation? That is how I felt by the end. 

Another cultural note is not many streets are labeled here, and Moroccans are better with locations or landmarks instead of street names. Often the petit-taxi drivers only know the name in Arabic too (learned the hard way, another story). So, stopping and asking isn't always that productive, hence the wandering the desert feeling.  After finally finding it, we discovered they shifted to only serving Italian food and fish.  Major couscous fail! It wasn't entirely disappointing because we knew we had this luscious homemade vanilla cake with raspberry jam filling and hand whipped cream (over 10 minutes by hand with a whisk just like our ancestors). Another blip was the Supermarche only had the numbers 2, 4, 5, and 7. We decided 32nd birthday=3+2=5, so 5 it is! The cake was enjoyed with a simultaneous viewing of Sofia Coppola's Lost in Translation, and while set in Tokyo, it still had a familiar theme.

How You Livin'?

I've been asked to post pictures of the apartment. Never one to disappoint my readership please see below:

Bedroom Camera 1

Camera 2

Camera 3

We have a redundancy of restroom options. Here is a view of shower room, and bathroom, not pictured is a room with just a toilet and sink, affectionately deemed: toilet room.

 A special thank you to R. who asked, "Is only cute stuff supposed to be in this glass cupboard."NO! But thanks for checking if that was a 'thing' I had going...For those of you in Seattle, you may note that we shlepped our Ballard Organics soap all the way over here (lemongrass featured in this photo)!


Below is one of our many sitting rooms...this is a room known as VIVA ESPANA! as it is decked out in the colors of the Spanish flag. It also hosts a TV with a ton of channels in Arabic, one in French, a version of BBC, MBC (NOT NBC) though confused easily if said out loud, and an interesting channel where fully clothed ladies just dance together while a camera circles around them...we can't figure it out, but I have my suspicions...

Here's the little kitchen. It is sweet and cozy, but sometimes I feel like I'm eating in an RV with the cupboard over my head...

Entryway...

And our 'Salon' which as Youssef my colleague explains is a common new design in Morocco: Half traditional seating which means you can comfortably fit at least 12 people for lively conversation (which is the layout in the Viva Espana Room and the Blue Room (not yet pictured). The other half is more of a European style with a couch and chairs. 

 C'est un bel appartement, no? We were lucky to have some people sleuthing out a good spot for us.