Day 2
And the long walk home...

Almost all night we were aware of it raining. There was the gentle sound of splashing on the dirt and clay roof, and the less frequent and less gentle sound of the rain coming through the roof to land in metal pans and buckets. Not much came through, but just enough that you could hear a somewhat steady *plink* of the droplets landing. It also got cold. We were pretty comfortable inside our house, but you could tell that the temperature outside was getting much lower.

In the morning we awoke, dressed and began the day as we normally would. I ran outside to fetch some water for the morning cooking and such and it was cloudy, very cold, and foggy in our valley. A few minutes later Mary came out of the house and pointed out, through a clearing, the change in the mountains.

Our valley was wet, but not white, like all the surrounding hills. A few degrees cooler and we would have had a nice blanket of snow covering us for our morning walk back to Midelt. This struck Jess and I as pretty funny because we had been joking, during the long and hot walk into the valley, that it would be funny if we got snowed in and had to stay a few days. Close, but not quite. The sky started to clear a few hours later, we sat and talked more, but finally had to leave in order to make it back to Midelt before sunset.

The walk back was yet another adventure. We got to see how some other people live. These homes are dug straight into the hillside. Warm, efficient, cheap, just not very glamorous. They live in a great simplicity, surrounded with a community of others acting similarly.

We also decided to not return completely by the same road, but take a couple of short cuts. Some of these shortcuts took us up and over some higher elevation ridges and peaks and offered some amazing views of the valley from which we had just come.

A view back into our favorite little Moroccan town.

A view from on top of a hill with a built in man-made reservoir for crop irrigation. In the foreground is a 2 or 3 house town with a large plot of irrigated and terraced land, in the distance in the valley we were in leading off to the snow peaked High Atlas Mountains.

The rest of the walk home was along the same road, but the snow and cold wind just gave it a magical appearance. We passed many people returning from the big Sunday market in Midelt headed back out to their village. This man had a team of 5 or 6 donkeys and was headed the way we were coming from. Every meeting on the road at this point was just comical. Some foreigners go out this way, but not many, and I am sure that none of them walk there. We were quite an oddity on this road, and the expressions on peoples faces let us know that. The most common look we got from people was somewhere between confusion and bewilderment.

There is one more photo I wanted to display, but I can not seem to get it to upload. I think it is good enough to stand on its own, so that will just have to happen later on.

I hope from this that you can see what an amazing weekend it all was. I know it is hard to tell from photos, but it really was astounding to be in this valley after an early snowfall. I hope that comes through...

Jake

Later on, Day 1...

This is "our" town, Tattowin. A small village of just over 50 people, engulfed within the Mid-Altas mountains, found deep within a valley of gardens and hard working, proud Berber families. With one fresh water running faucet, no electricity, and smart gardens surrounding their property that worked within the existing environment, Jake and I realized once again, together, that this is the life we desire. A life of true community. During our time spent there we became more aware of what a "life together" means.

We discovered that a "life together" means sharing the responsibility of baking bread together every morning. "Life together" means welcoming strangers in for tea and enjoying one dish of Tajine between 13 people, made from the fruits and vegetables that were picked by the women of the community, together. "Life together" means supporting one another and holding one another accountable in how they best utilize their resources, for in Tattowin, resources = life. No resources are wasted. "Life together" means sharing without expectation; gathering wood together to sell or to use; raising kids together; advocating for one another; and most of all helping one another. This is Tattowin. This is our hope.

After our arrival we spent some time with Mary and were encouraged by her to truly experience the beauty of the Mid-Atlas, so we took her up on her offer and set off climbing... and climbing we did... Discovering fossils, scary big bugs, and affleunet Moroccan minerals we climbed a nearby ridge to take in the beauty of the valley, our gift from the mountains. This view is from the top of the first ridge.

This is Mary. I anticipate writing a more comprehensive log about our time spent with her, but for now will simply share with you about Mary, herself. Sister Mary grew up in Ireland and later moved with her family to Argentina where she spent a number of years. During her time in Argentina she spent time with the nuns who were involved in the Liberation movement and at one time lived with them for a short period, experiencing their lives as they lived with the indigenous community. Soon after she gained employment with Westing House but shared that she could not shake the impression that the nuns in Argentina had made on her and decided to give a relationship with God a chance to grow. At the age of 36 she decided that God was asking her to give of her life for His service. And as she shared, "I have never regreted that decision." A life of voluntary service, live together, and love is her desire and is evidenced by her relationship with God, nature, and her neighbors.

During our time with Mary, God confirmed and reaffirmed the life which Jake and I desire to live. I life of simplicity, community, love, peace, and good-works. Through our many conversations God used Mary, her story, and her life as tangible ways to show us what a life with Him is like. At one point in our conversation Mary began sharing with us about a family's wedding celebration a few years back. She shared that as tradition dictates, on the day of marriage between a woman and a man, the man buys what he can and sends these goods with his family to "fetch" his soon to be wife. For this particular marriage, the man bought 25 kilos. of flour, a goat, and a dress for his bride. Because the brides family lives very simply, as a result of extreme poverty, when they received this valuable gift from the grooms family they went to work. That day the brides mother and the women of the community made all the bread 25 kilos. of flour can make. The brides father butchered the goat and that night they celebrated the marriage in high style, with all the meat and bread that one village could eat.

Two weeks following this beautiful celebration Mary took a two week vacation and attended a wedding between a very affluent Spanish woman and a very well known Moroccan man. With men on horse-back to greet the guests at the door, an extravagant, well-designed wedding, and a multi-course meal to follow - Mary shared that shortly after her arrival to the wedding reception, she had to leave.

As an ever seeking desire to make reconcilation in my heart between so many issues I deal with, I asked her, "How do you renconcile that?" Her reply, "You can't. You don't." This was one of the first times I have felt peace regarding my inability to reconcile what I know in my heart is true and what I battle with understanding and accepting... As shared before, more reflections of our time with Mary are soon to come.

Until then... To be continued...

As it comes...

From us: a combined update.

Friday, the English class that Jess teaches as the Association, got to enjoy the fruits of our Thanksgiving labor. All the left overs went with Jess to be enjoyed by a new group of students. And enjoyed it was... there was not a bite left of anything.

Most of the students are here in this picture. 3 or 4 are missing, but we want to save photo space for what is about to come...





Day 1

Yeah, that was Friday. Saturday morning we got up, made a nice big breakfast and hit the road. Our goal: to visit our friends in Tattowin.

Most of the other places we have mentoined visiting have been hundreds of kilometers away and we take a combination of public busses and taxis to get there. This town is a different matter. It is only 16 km (10 mi) away, but it is a walk through the Sahara to get there.

Now there are taxis to get you part way there, but not the whole way. And we decided that we just wanted to walk, so walk we did. The first half of the road travels through some very small towns, farm fields, the road is partially paved and populated. The second half of the road looks like this picture to the left. (Side note: it was rather hot and clear this day. My long-sleeved tshirt was almost too much at this point. It was an amazing day.)

This is still the road, but this is where it crosses the river. As you can see, most cars and taxis would not even try to come across. Several people have trucks and take them across, but they are anything but regular, and they are often full of sheep, goods, or people, or any combination of the three.

So, we walked through the heat, but changes in the world were afoot. And just to keep you interested, this story is to be continued...

From Jess:

Hey - Just a couple articles worth reading and looking at:

Goa Ladies Team Slum Outreach

Living Beyond Hatred

Don't forget to take a look below!

Thanksgiving party...

Well, it was a success. While the chocolate chip cookies we made for a holiday a few weeks ago were a complete failure (Moroccan tastes are different, so they just plain hated the cookies), last night was a blazing success. The carrot cake and apple spice cake went over like Tums at a chili-eating contest, and the banana bread seemed very well recieved as well. The pumpkin pie was a bit of a stretch for some, and one person actually threw hers away (pictured below: guess which one...), but most people got to like it after a little bit.

Some of our students...

One of the workers from the center and some more of our students.


Hyat and some of the female students. I am on the far left making fun of the Moroccans for how much sugar they are putting in everything. Yes, that is a huge spoonfull of sugar I am about to eat.

One of our best English speaking students at the Center and a ridiculous stuffed rabbit that somehow made it into our home and never left.

Jess and Hyat, together, of course.



The apple cider went over pretty poorly, but it was still consumed. People just added a lot of sugar to it and the tea (look at the bottom of his glass... that is all sugar).

Overall it was a grand success if you ask Jess or I. Truthfully, this first Thanksgiving overseas could not have been any better. It was a great night.

Jake and Jess

Thanksgiving...

Well, Happy Thanksgiving everyone. What are we going to do here? We have invited our English classes to come over to the house tonight and enjoy some traditional or semi-traditional Thanksgiving treats. Jessica is modeling our food below.

Here we can see Jessica showing off the many dishes that we have made, all of which have been significantly sampled. From left to right we have: pumpkin pie, banana bread, my tart holding a pumpkin tart, carrot cake, and apple cake.


So that's about it from here. Hope you enjoy your day. Be thankful, and know that we are thankful for you (and your comments).

Jake and Jess

From Jake:

"But what can I do?"

This is a news article worth reading:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/6164134.stm

A kid, poor, a slave, but inteligent and hard working has potentially changed the course of a region of one of the most populous countries in the world.

What could he do? He grew up as a slave, but he achieved anyway. It sounds corny, but it is true.

Read it.

From Jess:

Up-date of sorts with a couple stories to share...

First off - as most of us know, I don't cook. But as of Nov. 14th 2006, that has all changed... Pictured here is the Fried Apple, Tomato, and Pepper salad with our special dessert from our favorite bakery (that we frequent all too often).

Pictured here is a slice of gratitude shown from the man to the woman and her Peanut Curry Rice (not pictured: Eggplant Dip).


Just a day in the life of Hayat and I in her carpet shop... Just as a side note: Her carpet shop isn't simply a shop where carpets, rugs, and pillows are sold. Hayat's carpet shop is a place where men and women alike, from all social classes and different ages, come to gather and talk, drink tea, rest and sleep if needed, and most importantly, pray. This is why I spend so much time here daily... It's a refuge of learning and laughing, grace and mercy, listening and friendship.

Yesterday, though, was a day of shame... As Jake and I have been looking for change purses (in that all monies under 20 are in change pieces), Jake suprised me at Hayat's shop with a new pink change purse. I've found in the past that kissing my husband on the cheek is a faux pau, so I stayed away from that. Instead, Jake took my hand and kissed it. In response, one of my favorite women sitting beside me went off and all of the sudden everyone began laughing - laughing hard. I didn't understand why but had an idea so I had to pry it out of them. After four minutes in the dark, only knowing that she probably put us to shame for displaying physical affection in public. Her exact words, "Go get a room!" We were shamed.

Only moments following, Hayat asked if I was cold and was going to give me her coat to keep warm. I was cold but there was no way I was going to take her coat. She bickered with me and to suffice her need to keep me warm, I just got up and sat on her lap and told her, "Hayat, If I was cold, I'm not anymore - I'm taking all of your warmth!" Then the shame began. One of my most favorite dirty old men said it best, "Hayat, If she wants to be warm grab her boobs!" Omigoodness... shame...

My new friend - Elvis.













So, aside from the pctures and such... here is just an up-date on our daily happenings... God has been so good and continues to manifest himself daily in so many various and diverse ways...

Community Center: Jake and I (more Jake than I - they just like having me around, I think I make a well enough fool of myself to make them laugh, that's all I'm good for) have taken over an advanced English class at the local community center. Beginning next week I will too will take over a class of my own with all intermediate english speaking adolescent girls. Jake and I have really enjoyed getting to know our students there and anticipate having them over on Thanksgiving for a party of sorts...

Women's Center: This week I have spent some time at a local women's center that doubles as a two room school and cyber cafe... During my time there they asked me to speak with a class about American culture, my life, etc. Jake and I will go back on Sunday to continue talking with the youth about school, opportunities, life skills, choices, etc. The head English teacher also has asked me to come and speak with the women soon and has expressed interest in partering up with an American school in order to increase positive communications between clutures and possibly be able to supply them with some beginner/intermediate English literature. Any takers?

Medical Association: I'll spare you from how I became associated with the community medical association, for all you need to know is that - yes, it involves me making a fool of myself once again! But what I won't spare you from is the mass amount of work they do not only for their immediate community but for surrounding villages as well... Examples: fixing a falling school structure; providing medical supplies; conducting medical examinations; and providing medical services. Over the past week I have increased my time spent there and beginning next week will begin teaching an English class for all those interested. It has been a great joy spending time with those in leadership as well as those receiving services.

Jake and I have also are attempting to intentionally increase our accountability and learning and desiring to live out our vows to eachother and to Christ. More about that later...

All in all... God continues to manifest and demonstrate himself daily within our lives with Him, eachother, and with others... we are grateful...

And a quick P.S. I need motivation and affirmation friends... We love comments and I have to tell you, the lack of comments is wearing on us (okay, me)... for more up-dates you gotta keep the comments comin' our way... okay, my way - it's me who really cares :)

From us: More of Rabat
Speaking of profiles...

A couple of profiles for you... the first one is of my chin and awesome beard. Jessica just said to title this one "my handsome husband". You heard it here first, folks.

Jessica refuses to give this picture a title. The juxtaposition of the two marble heads was designed to show off the differences in the facial features of the roman ruler and the "berber" ruler. The biggest differences tend to be in the cheekbones, chin, forehead, and nose. I will leave the title of the picture up to your imagination.

On the back side of this marble slab was a lot of ancient latin text. It had been a public tablet, but it was plundered and reused by the Moroccans after the influx of Islam. The front is covered in Arabic text. The idea was that if a woman could reach through the hole and touch the shell up where Jessica's fingers are, then she was a good woman for marriage. (Note: Jessica could reach past the shell.) Basically it was discrimination against people who couldn't get their arm through the hole.

The 44m but should have been 60m minarete connected to a mosque near the tomb of Mohammed V. The pillars used to support a massive, ornate roof, but that was all destroyed in the "great quake" of 1960 something or other. Sorry, I forget the date.

Jessica in our hot-pink hotel room. $9 dollars a night anyone?

Hooves? Yeah, but only front hooves. The back ones are shamefull to eat. The front ones are a delicacy. Mmmmmm... foot.
(Side note: where I am sitting to take this picture is the best pizza in Morocco. I kid you not.)

From Jake:
A Late-Day Supplement:

1. Jessica and I were recently given a phone by an amazing individual here. That means that we have a phone number all our own. If you would like it, please email us.


2. I just saw someone wearing the most awesome t-shirt I have ever seen in Morocco. It was a black shirt with a huge bald-eagle soaring from left to right near the top. Underneath it was a bright and shiny 18-wheeler doing at least 120mph leaving a trail of flaming letter stating that, this truck was, in fact, "ROLLING THUNDER". Wow. Say it again, wow.


3. Backstreet Boys is on the radio in the Internet Cafe. I gotta go. Wow.

From Jake:
Some pictures that almost speak for themselves...

Jess is now eating oranges. To some of you that matters not. To some of you that is big news.

I will let this photo speak for itself completely.

Nick R., if you are reading, this is mostly for you.

While we were stuck in Rabat for 4-ish days awaiting our visa to go to India, we had plenty of time to see all the local sites. This is an ancient Roman Empire mini-city full of temples to different gods. The Roman "chellah" was later walled in by one of the Moroccan kings, and then part of it was leveled and had a mosque built over it. Roman ruines, forground; Mosque has the tower and newer construction.

Not too much Roman remains, a few structures, lots of column fragments, an octagonal pool, a few artisan workshops.



A view of the inside of the Mosque. Pretty incredible architecture.

From Jake:
Yeah, I am still a cynic.

I know that's not a big surprise to most of you, but sometimes I feel myself getting soft. It is nice to know that the cynicism can still flow strong and deep, like a clear mountain stream. (Side note - if cynicism were a color of water, what color would it be?)

I will start things off without cynicism, if I may. I actually really like this about Morocco. The old guys that haul stuff in carts, we'll call them cart-hauler-guys, when they want to rest, which is most of the time, they just tip up their cart and sit in it. I am not sure why I like this so much, but it is great, because everywhere you go, all day, you get to see old guys just sitting in their carts. I don't know, it just pleases me.


-=cynicism=- Yeah, this is a great photo. Let me explain it to you. This is a shot of the beach in Agadir, a very touristy beach town. Blazed upon the hillside on the left you can see the Arabic text for GOD, MOTHERLAND, THE KING. On the right side you see in plastic neon colors, Pizza Hut and McDs. Eeeeegads. The writing on this hill can be found in nearly every town with room for it. It is supposed to stand for the foundational pillars of this great nation, the things we lean on, depend on, rely on for everything. Then we blot them out of the sky with globalized corporations making overpriced, unhealthy food all to feed back in the system to enrich a few top individuals. Well crap. Development does not have to look like this, taste like this, harm people like this, or kill the view and environment like this. -=cynicism=-


-=cynicism=- Happiness anyone? Apparently it's for sale here. Seems like everything is for sale here... maybe that is happiness. -=cynicism=-




Aside from all the cynicism, we really did have a good time. Jess especially loved being back next to water, large bodies of water.




Meditatively viewing the waves. "The ocean has no memory..."

From Jake:
The poem I promised tomorrow has been found today:

The Farmer among the Tombs (1970)

I am oppressed by all the room taken up by the dead,
their headstones standing shoulder to shoulder,
the bones imprisoned under them.
Plow up the graveyards! Haul off the monuments!
Pry open the vaults and the coffins
so the dead may nourish their graves
and go free, their acres traversed all summer
by crop rows and cattle and foraging bees


(Collected Poems - 105)

From Jake:

Yeah, yeah, yeah... I am starting to get some sassy comments about not writing up here enough. Well, I have no excuse, so today I will give you a little, then the next some more, and see where things go from there. Can't give you too much at once, now can I?


So a couple of weeks ago Jess and I traveled just a few hours away to Meknes, one of the old Imperial Cities, just to check things out and get away for a bit. This is a view of the concubine pool that a king had built to keep his ol' ladies occupied. I guess when you have 1,000 wives, you can't keep em all busy at the same time, so he had this pool built and gave them little boats to paddle around in. Don't worry, I am taking notes from history...


We also had time to visit the tomb of one of the famous dead people in Morocco. This is as close as we could go to the actual burial site since we are not Muslims. Those who are not followers of Islam are not allowed to enter most cemeteries and burial sites. The more I think about it and see it, burial sites for the dead, whether toms, mausoleums, headstones, whatever they may be, just seem like a stupid idea. I have a great Wendell Berry poem about a mad farmer in a cemetery that I will post tomorrow. Don't worry, there is a connection.


Jess and I nearly getting swindled by the nicest swindlers one could ever hope to meet. They were carpet salesmen that had selling tactics like I had never seen. They almost had us... tricksters.



Jess and I, though we love them dearly, decided to retire the wooden wedding bands to special occasions and things. We were just having to be a little too careful with them all the time. Soooo, instead we found this guy with an awesome mustache who hand pounds metals in a damascene style into vases and all kinds of jewelry. Well, we got new rings from him. You can see them a little in this photo, and we will put up another better photo later. (Side note: it is common here for men to hold hands and to kiss in greeting one another. I know this guys mustache is rad because he kissed me with it. Wow, never had a moustache-kiss before. Kinda' freaked me out a bit...)

Arrived in Rabat after a weekend in Agadir...
Stuck in Rabat awaiting our Visa's to go to India...
Will remain in Rabat until approximately Friday...
Enjoying simply being together...

Jake & Jess

Our fourth week in Midelt…

As we brought in our fourth week in Midelt I have found that it has been a week of realized understandings, continued language developing, opportunities growing, and values confirming…

Because we have the luxury of being American with money we have taken advantage of all that may offer and this past weekend traveled to Meknes for some site-seeing as well as good shopping and McFlurry eating… Take a look at here for some pictures of our visit there...

As most weeks go I have spent many hours in Hyatt’s shop (yes, I talk a lot about Hyatt. Yes, Jake calls her my Moroccan girlfriend) talking Arabic (sometimes), teaching English (not really), laughing (always), and continuing to enjoy simply being with others… Highlight stories of the week: My understanding is this… Hyatt’s Aunt’s friend’s son (yeah) was up in the mountains and decided that to quench his thirst he would drink some mountain water… unfortunately big bugs live in that water and when to took a drink an one inch bug crawled down his throat. S his throat began to itch his mother began to understand what was going on and decided that the only way to get the big bug out was to chase it out of the kids throat by dunking the child’s head in a bucket of water, only to watch moments later the big bug jump out of the child’s throat and into the bucket of water…

Hyatt also has a gift of giving… Many times men and women alike will come and ask her for money or food and every time, Hyatt gives graciously… This week one of my favorite women came by to receive a bag of apples… After tea, talking, and laughing she began to leave and Hyatt asked, "Aren’t you going to thank me for giving you a bag of apples?" The lady laughed, "No I’m not, because I’m going to come back and you’re going to give me more apples. Then, I will thank you."

This week was also a week of both national and non-national visitors which of coarse means good cheese, bread, fire on the roof, and lots of laughter… By complete circumstance I had decided one day to make my first tajine the day a national friend came to visit... he commented that my tajine was good, but too spicy… another bomb… but I have to say, this week I made some stinkin’ good homemade applesauce!

In addition, this week Jake began teaching an advanced-English language class daily. He’s such a good teacher and daily talks of current events and cultural beliefs with his students. I, on the other hand, spent an evening in the home of a woman who is trying to get money out of me (more later); visited for the first time the local medical association; and today am going to visit a woman’s center where they teach english and trade craft skills…

Each day we continue to learn and today are going to head off to Essaouira… I long to be near water once again…

P.S. This week I also had my first rock thrown at me by a slew of "cute" kids… it was due time... in response they received the look of death searing from my eyes and were all stopped in their tracks… Being a woman is good.

Like the Devil on Christmas Morning…

When Ramadan ends, it goes out in style… and all of those who have participated in Ramadan (which is everyone due to the fact that it’s a state mandated time of fasting) celebrate it with great baking, gorging, friends and family…

Early in the morning we arose like kids on Christmas morning awaiting the day to come, knowing only partly what was in store… In preparation of exchanging cookies, the day before I made three batches of homemade chocolate chip cookies… so that morning I wrapped up six different bags of cookies to give to friends of our and those without a home… after packing up we headed over to Moha’s home and were welcomed for breakfast which included chocolate rolls, cookies, tea, etc. After a short time there we spoke our code words to hint at leaving, “The camel flies south at noon” and escaped with only a slightly full stomach. Directly after we dropped in on up some women friends in a near-by town, some American friends in town, and Moha’s next door neighbors… All of whom gave and fed graciously and abundantly…

At mid-afternoon Hyatt came over for some hot chocolate and cookies… With a short visit under the belt both Hyatt and I headed off to some other friend’s homes whom I had met in the past and were greatly welcomed and fed by…

Now let’s count this up… That’s seven homes * one to two glasses of tea and/or coffee * three to six cookies = so countless cookies, numerous glasses of sugar inducing coma, and plentiful conversations that I didn’t have a clue about (except a few select words here and there).

How did the American chocolate chip cookies go over? Like a lead balloon. I’ve been told many times that Moroccans like Moroccan food. Period. This is true, with the exception of a few children. Many whose home we went to took a few bits and let it sit in front of them on the table, waiting for us to leave so they could toss them I’m sure. Even Hyatt wouldn’t take our cookies, “Because we might have guests over later who we would need to give cookies to.”

Who did appreciate them? Americans, children, and those without a home or place to celebrate the end of Ramadan… minus the Americans, isn’t it interesting that those who Jesus talks about loving the most are those who were most grateful and accepted our menial gifts with the most gratitude…

Learning all the time…

My life as an Amazighian Woman

Following our days of celebration Hyatt and I set off to her home out in the “country” where her immediate family owns an apple orchard and her maternal side of the family lives. Upon arrival we spent many hours drinking tea and eating apples, studying each other language and in some form, telling each other our life-stories…

After a quick tour and a show of their new tractor we headed into town where what awaited me was beyond my American comprehension of “a day in the life of an Amazighian woman (Amazigh is the proper term for Berber)…

As we entered the house we were warmly greeted by many woman (all of whom are Aunts and/or cousins) cooking, sitting, and talking over tea. As a guest they escorted me to the women’s room (to my understanding and experience, when guests are present – the women and men eat and mingle apart from each other) where we were gifted with tea, cookies, peanuts, and various other sweets… To make a long story short, following is the play by play of the following day with Hyatt and her family:

2:00 – 3:00 tea, cookies, etc. while chatting
3:00 – 4:00 lunch (which includes tajine, bread, fruit, and tea)
4:00 – 5:30 nap
5:30 – 7:00 escape to visit her uncle milking co-op (pretty impressive) which included milk tasting, sitting, and visiting.
7:00 – 8:00 tea, cookies, etc.
8:00 – 8:30 prayer (in which I was privileged to be in a room with 12 women praying)
8:30 – 10:30 men, women, and children all gather in the main room for laughter, talking, English & Arab learning, and you guessed it… tea and cookies…
10:30 – 11:30 dinner (same as lunch but different tajine)
11:30 – 1:00 talk
1:00am bedtime
7:00am I’m up and ready to go
10:30ish everyone else is up and ready to go
11:00 – 12:00 breakfast (bread, jam, honey, etc. etc.) & visiting
12:00pm head home to Midelt

I’m not met to be Amazigh, but I do love and appreciate who they are and the constant work that the women do to keep their homes and families in order and running. P.S. In Hyatt’s grandma’s home there lives her grandparents and five sets of Aunts & Uncles + children…

Wow… I just got exhausted again writing it…