Because of the food poisoning Round 1 2011 we were unable to celebrate Eid al-Adha with our friend Habib's family in Taroudant. Luckily, we were all invited to visit his family for the weekend when R's brother and Sarah were in town and it coincided with a Christmas party a Brit named Peter was hosting (complete with my first Christmas pudding with brandy butter). We loaded into a Grand Taxi and made our way to this town outside of Agadir.
The walls of Taroudant, which is also called the 'grandmother of Marrakech'...
A nice three hour stroll through the streets of town which come to life with people in the early evening.
We stumbled upon a community center hosting some local hip-hop performers...complete with fog machine and the LOUDEST sound system I think I've ever heard.
Public sculpture fun!
Habib's friend Peter has taught in many parts of the world and now divides his time between England and Taroudant. He invited us to his Christmas party where we met a lot of Moroccans, some Brits, and even an American Peace Corps Volunteer. Pictured here is Peter's turtle, free to roam the garden all he wants.
Peter trying to explain 'minced pies' to some Moroccan guests.
A Peace Corps volunteer who is the last cohort who will learn the local Amazigh language. The Moroccan government wants future cohorts to work with youth development and so they will be trained in Moroccan Arabic.
This stencil says something along the lines of 'Clean up your neighborhood'.
A special treat was Habib's oldest sister had a soccer game. Look at all these fans out on a Saturday morning!
The best part about our trip to Taroudant was spending time with Habib's family and enjoying all the culinary bliss they heaped upon us. Below is a chicken tagine with crispy french fries. Grabbing a pinch of fries with the sauce, prunes, tender chicken, vegetables and bread (made with Habib's family's own milled grains) was another divine dining experience. We followed this meal with fresh tangerines, from their own trees (of course).
I mention how well we ate with Habib's family and it is no exaggeration. What is particularly remarkable about his family is how much of our food came from their land: They have their own olive tree orchards, make their own honey, Argan oil, grow wheat that is milled in town and they bake at home into these chewy flat rounds of bread, and then the citrus! We woke one morning to Habib's dad bringing in what looked like a tall stack of bread and a big pot of tea. The bread was layered with mild olive oil mixed with honey from the farm and we all pulled drizzly pieces of warm bread from the tower of goodness and washed it down with the tea. Just another day in the life!