Rockin' the Kasbah

Let me begin by apologizing for the lack of communication this past week. Because of the design of the orientation week, I was not able to access a reliable connection to the internet that did not involve a French keyboard and un-airconditioned attic. For now, I have wireless from 12 to 6 here (8am to 2pm EST), but between 1 and 3 I usually have lecture. Point being, I will be trying to be on skype or AIM (carolinacutiekt for both) during those times.

Enough of logistics. Morocco. I am in Morocco. Incredibly, I made it here alive and with all of my belongings (although 23 of us were stranded in Paris on the first night thanks to a 2 hour taxi out of JFK). From the very second we began our descent onto the tarmac at Rabat airport and I caught a glimpse of Arabic script on the landing signs, I felt an intense twinge of excitement and anticipation. Immediately, we were shuttled into the city and fully immersed in all things Rabat. From a tour of the center where we will have classes to the trek from the center to the hotel through the crowded marketplaces on Avenue Mohammad V, the program leaders made sure we knew we were in Rabat. On Day two, they prepared us for ‘the drop off.’ Up to this point, the only information that we were given regarding the ‘drop off,’ aside from the ominous title, was a subject which we were to research during our experience. When the time comes to board the bus, we all grow a little tense. Soon, we learn the reality of the ‘drop off’ as the first victim was literally dropped off at a rolling stop at least a mile from the center. The bus continued to drive around the city, winding through the many unfamiliar neighborhoods and streets of the medina. My less directionally-challenged tried to keep track of the turns and swerves of the streets in hopes of having a general direction. As we all lack in language skills, the fear of needing directions once alone was terrifying. Did I mention we were alone? We were not to speak to anyone from the program should we cross paths. Completely alone in a foreign city with limited language skills – such is an experience into which one does not ordinarily walk. Although I had rehearsed the general question scenarios in my head before jumping off the bus, I found my little knowledge of standard Arabic to be completely useless, as most people in the older medina do not understand anything but Moroccan dialect or perhaps limited French. So I made it back to the center with the help of one storekeeper who understood when I gave the name of our hotel. Although terrifying and intimidating, this experience will no doubt be one of the most unique and exhilarating of my life.

So the rest of the week consisted of acclimating to the city and life as study abroad students. Then came the move-in. This past Thursday, I met my host mother during a small reception at the Center. She did not speak English, but one of her daughter’s friends was there to greet her student and helped us to communicate. On Friday, we moved in. Which brings me to my host family. My father is the cutest old man alive. He has a history of illness that limits his diet and he doesn't really move around much—he just watches tv all day. But every couple of hours he comes and finds me whereever I am "Katie Katie Labas? (how are you?)Bikheir?" *thumbs up* then he'll wander away. He's so precious. My host mom is precious. She doesn't really ever stop talking and she seems determined to make me learn French. I have one brother who is 19. I don't think he knows English and he seems a little shy as well so it is a strain to communicate. He'll acknowledge me in the street, but that is about it. I also have two sisters, Meryem 23 and Chawla 20, who are interestingly different. Meryem rarely leaves the house and when she does, she veils. Chawla usually goes out at night and wears very western clothing. It is an interesting dynamic. So far, my experience in the house is a light regard by the parents, but generally, they go about their own business and I keep to mine. Just yesterday, I found out that I have another American student living with us. She did the summer program a few years ago and has returned to do more research. Charismatic and charming, she is quite an addition, not to mention a helpful buffer with the whole language barrier issue. Although I was worried at first, I do not believe it will hurt my learning experience at all.

I think that basically catches us up. I apologize for the lack of quality in my writing, but I do not always have time to wait for a muse. As we have begun Standard Arabic classes (3 hours every morning) as well as the lecture series, I am inundated with studying and reading every day. In addition, I am trying my best to keep up a journal and contact my family every once in a while, so if I am delayed in responding to messages please excuse me. And along that note, I would love to hear from everyone about how life is going for the rest of the world!

Masalaama!