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…

Happy halloween everyone.

Yeah, seriously, that's it for today. Sorry.

More photo fun for all the kids.

Me. Me really tired of blowing my nose from the cold I got here. Yeah, less than thrilled... but my beard is starting to come in nicely.


The biggest pomegranate ever. Not only was it good on the outside....

...but it was awesome on the inside. Pomegranates are proof that God loves us, especially if you squirt a little lemon juice on them.



A tiny lizard that we found in the kitchen. We believe that his parents live in the mosque next door, so we took him out and set him free on the wall next to where they like to hang out.


Probably the best photo I have taken here in Morocco. Sunset last night with the faintly visible moon...

From Jess:
Journal entry: October 21, 2006

“Father, Thank you for yesterday, the night before, and the day to come… Thank you for your abounding grace, truth, and love as it has been demonstrated through Hyatt… Two nights ago was the celebration of the day the Quran was given to the Islamic people… As a gift, Hyatt took me out to get dressed up and have a traditional “celebration” photo taken… afterward, she gifted me with Henna for both of my hands… I wish I could thank her in the way in which it was appropriate… in addition to this and the djebla, she gifted us with a dish of six hour cooked cous-cous as well as shabekeya … How can I thank her… I feel so unworthy, yet so grateful… She is a demonstration of your love to me… Thank you.

“I pray that I never forget that my mouth should continually be filled with praise for you and as witness of and for your glory… You did not forsake me when my strength was failing and others we’re speaking against me… You were never far from me… You continued to comfort me despite my discomfort… You continue to revive me… I hope to continue to sing your song… You have brought us here with only your grace and mercy… I can only hope that we do not loose heart… For you commanded us to be a light to the world and we will do so… I pray and hope that my diligence is worthy of being approved by You. I pray that I continue to pursue and demonstrate a mind and heart for what represents peace, love, and faith. You have shared that your servants shall not quarrel but be gentle to all, able to teach, be patient, and in humility love those who are in opposition… cover me Father… cover me.”

From Jake:
Since the pictues seem to be so popular, you may see a few more...

We had our first rain since arriving here. It came in on a rather amazing storm font that also brought us this rainbow. Ever seen a rainbow over the Sahara? Well, now you have and so have we. Great - check.





I am sure that jessica will do a write up of her adventure the other night, but this was part of the result. Shortly before 1am, Jessica still with her crazy Moroccan wedding makeup on back from a crazy night out with the girls, showing off her new henna, and making me feel a little better through my cold. Wow - check.



Me. Yeah, me, sitting in a giant, silver, shiny chair with a hat made for little kids. Yeah - check.

My night out....

Hyatt and I during our night out... be sure to zoom in a bit to take a look at my make-up job and my boob poking dress pins...


I would like to post more but I am about to cuss because this computer is not up-loading any of the other pictures I want except this one... AH!

Maybe next time...

New photos for you.


Jessica in a traditional Moroccan wedding/exotic dancer outfit.





Hyatt, Jessica (in her new djelaba) and Zahor in their daily language study at Hyatt's carpet shoppe.



Breaking of the fast at sunset in the Sahara.



Another view of Midelt.



A traditional "lftor" or sunset fast breaking meal. Mmmmm.... dates....









Later today be sure to check this blog for a possible butt-shaking contest video starring Jessica and Cory.

New favorite sandwich: onion & bread. period.

New favorite time of the day: time with Hyatt & Zhor. Over the past week I have spent everyday (with the exception of one) learning Arabic/Amazer and teaching English in Hyatt's rug, pillow, etc. shop... These appox. three hours a day give me life. We laugh at eachother and are forced to learn one anothers lanuguage to communicate. On that note: I must say that Hyatt knows way more English than I do Arabic/Amazer... Zhor is more less at my level... Thank you God!

Yesterday Hyatt told me she loved me and in walking me out of the souq asked me if she could give me a jilaba (sp?). I told her that wasn't necessary, in so many words, but she insisted, in so many words... I am so grateful for their friendships...

More pictures coming soon!

A much more lighthearted update. Photos for you...

Jessica reaching a new level of illumination. This is looking up the stairs from our door, out to the roof.





Apparently you can make any town look glamorous. This town has its ups and downs, but there is very little that is really glamorous. The photo can lie...

So these are my (Jessica’s) most recent thoughts & struggles:

1. I struggle to understand what keeps me from living a life fully committed to Christ. I can’t help but wonder of the change that would come in the world if in the midst of all vehicles of ministry we believe are doing good, those who made a commitment to ministering, truly lived as Jesus lived. I struggle with promoting, teaching, sharing, and presenting a gospel that I don’t fully follow myself. I struggle with wondering what would happen if all who committed their lives to serve you by serving others, truly did just that. I would like to, and often do, rationalize and grasp for reasons not too… but those reasons are getting old and tiresome. What would come from such a movement where people truly dedicated their lives to live like Jesus. A Jesus without a home. A Jesus who endured suffering. A Jesus who carries on in spite of rejection. A Jesus who demonstrated no division between his words, his actions, and his choices. In living not completely like Christ, am I not sinning? Am I becoming too comfortable with rationalized rejection and marginalized suffering?

2. I still struggle to still follow Christ. It’s not because I’m unwilling, unwanting, or uninterested. I think it’s because I don’t think I understand "us" – whomever us may be. I struggle to understand our good-willed ideas, places, roles, desires, reasons, or pleas. Why am I so willing to tag your name to so much of what is the antithesis of what Christ embodied, suffering and rejection? I am often confused as to why it is so easy for me to live under so many deceptive and altered truths. How can I continue to read His Word and not question the way in which I live out my given existence. I am not trapped, so why do I often act like I am. Maybe I am just afraid. Maybe I am too selfish to desire to carry another’s burden. Maybe I’m too afraid of what will happen if I try. Maybe I’m too afraid I’ll hurt them more. Maybe I’m too afraid of hurting myself. Why can I not simply just drink from the cup with the Biblical knowledge that in that specific act, I will become more free in You to hurt.

3. There are parts of me that continually scream to let go of everything and become closer with Christ; closer with others. Yet, what are the costs? Am I willing to daily and diligently engage the sacrifice of the costs? How will these costs play into my marriage? This given marriage. Our plans? His plans for us. I think I am tired of wasting time… I'm not quite sure yet...

After twoish hours of Arabic study and a nice hot glass of chocolate/coffee heaven I decided to go out for a long walk around the city - presence. Not three minutes in, a boy all the age of maybe 8/9 began calling me "Madam." At first I ignored them, I am not French and I knew in my heart what would come if I replied. After a block or so of pursuit I turned around and greeted them kindly with a smile. After all, they were cute monsters.

As they continued to pursue and follow me with begging, and I'm sure not so kind words (but how am I to know) I pulled out all the Arabic I have, greeting them, placing blessing of God upon them, etc. Still they pursued and laughed. I should mention here that there was a leader who did the pursuing and his followers who did the laughing.

After another block or so I began speaking to them in English telling them they were beautiful children, that I was impressed with their tenacity, that I appreciated their desire to pay attention to me, but most of all that they are beautiful children of God. In response to my English the ring-leader began to speak jibberish back and began laughing harder... I continued to smile...

After appox. 10 mins. I think they came to the conclusion that I was a lost cause and turned around... Today I need to learn how to say in Arabic, "You are a beautiful child."

Yesterday progressively got better...
Sunday school statement of the day: God is faithful.

After a week of struggles and inconsistency and adjustment and questions I feel more at peace today. Much more at peace... I have decided after much prayer, conversation, and encouragement from my husband and Cory (have I mentioned there is a Bryan in there too... yup, three guys and a girl = whoo-hoo!) I have come to a better understand of my inital place here in Midelt.

For the next four weeks I am committing myself to the following:
1. Three one hour long walks each day, at the least... continuing to expose myself (in the proper sense) has been important to me since first coming here and now a commitment of action.

2. Next: three hours of language study a day. Whether it be from a book, Cory, neighbors, etc. I will study and hopefully learn and catch on... it's only a matter of time!

3. Finally, I will continue to treat others as Christ would. I will smile, greet everyone the same, laugh, and live my life here with single-minded obedience. I will follow Christ and diligently work to create around my "self" an atmosphere of grace, love, peace, and laughter. This is my commitment...

Following my four week commitment? I am not yet sure... we'll see!

I will be faithful.
- Jess

This morning was different.
I cried.
In the face of hatred, how do you best demonstrate love?
In the face of language barriers, how do you best demonstrate love?
In the face of the previous two, how do you best become useful in the name of love?
In the face of Christ, how can I allow language and hatred to hinder me?
Why do I feel I need other supports? other contacts to make things happen?
Shouldn't the support of Christ be enough?

Within the five days here we have been called hateful names by a few; greeted, welcomed, and kissed my many more; learned the arabic alaphabet and are able to read with time; are learning few by few words; and are learning how to best make use of our time here. At times it presents to be never ending, other times I recognize promise and hope.

God has been gracious, but my heart is not settled. Why can I not find peace here yet? My fear is that it's not because of the place or those who live here but because of my own self and all that I allow myself to think, whether it be logical or illogical.

We are both getting better physically. Yet, I long to be useful once again. It's difficult to feel useful when you cannot speak the language to figure out of what use you can be.

This year is going to be a difficult one.
- Jess

Hey everybody, we are in Morocco. A flight from Chicago to New York and then again to Madrid, Spain put us just a few hours from some friends of mine in Salamanca, Spain. And what do you do in Spain? Why, drink wine in a box, of course....

Now, granted, there is wine in a box in the US, but have you ever seen it in the little soymilk type of waxed paper carton, I think not... And everyone says the Europeans are so cultured. I still have my doubts.


What else do you do? Well you can always visit the Plaza Mayor in Salamanca. The night time illumination is definitely the best time to see this spectacle.


The ancient gothic cathedral is best seen during the day, however. It is one of the few gothic cathedrals that is not completely dark and dismal, but rather has a huge dome filled with windows that lets in spectacular light.










Now transmitting from Morocco...
This is a small village we stopped in on the way from the coast. Instead of whitewashing everything, which is common other places, a Jewish refugee (a long time ago, though I don't remember when) started the use of a blue dye in his whitewash. Now, the entire medina of this town is a pale, ghostly blue. Quite an amazing sight.






While beautiful and amazing, Morocco still has a hard street life for many people. Hopeful immigrants from all over west Africa come to Morocco with the hopes of making it to Europe for a better life. Some work hard and wait for legal papers to make it over to Europe (or as one Brit told me, "they're just waiting for a leaky boat and a dodgy geezer"). Some beg in the streets. Still others just don't make it at all.


But as for Jessica and I, we are in Midelt, Morocco. A small-ish town on the edge of the Sahara, in the mid-Atlas mountains. We are slightly ill as we adjust to all the new food, bacteria, water, etc., but in general we are fine and eager to begin learning. Look for another upddate soon, very soon, along with pictures of our new home.

Afterward from Jess:
Last night a family we were breaking the fast with took advantage of my lack of Moroccan language and told me that I needed to wear tighter fighting shirts... Cory (the friend we're staying with) relayed the message and we laughed... oh, these mountain men!!!

Otherwise, things really are going great and we're learning... we met with the women Cory is working with (who make Berber blankets, sweaters, etc.), a man who is working with an NGO locally, and have been shown around town... oh my... what a day our first day has been!

Overall, things are going great - Ramadan is good, breaking the fasts are even better and old men are hitting on me left and right... what more could I ask for?