Rabat is a rather calm city compared to Casablanca, maybe like Washington, D.C. is to New York, or Sacramento to San Francisco. We are well into Ramadan (only about a week left to go) and most of the American teachers have decided to fast along with their Moroccan counterparts. It hasn't been easy to sit through lectures on Moroccan politics, Islam, women's issues, etc. with a growling stomach. However, since the entire country is fasting it's beginning to feel quite normal. We break out fast at sundown with a couple dates, herirra (a Moroccan bean soup), shibeqia (a sweet Moroccan cookie shaped like a pretzel and dipped in honey), along with all sorts of other tasty delights. Afterwards we walk in the streets which are packed with other Moroccans -- it is a very festive and animated atmosphere. Then we return home for a late supper at midnight and get to bed about 1 a.m.

After two days in Rabat I took an 11-hour train ride across Morocco to Oujda. It's a good-size city and I'm staying in a beautiful home on a quiet street. Although only built a few years ago, it is in the traditional Moroccan style with an open area in the center and access to the roof where I will be doing laundry this afternoon. Sometimes we eat at the type of kitchen table we Americans are used to, other times at a low, round table Moroccan style.

Khadija Rahmani is the Moroccan teacher I am working with and living with here. She is a very dedicated teacher and we have already started planning classroom activities. I know the Mercy students are going to enjoy getting to know her. I've seen our school -- le Lycee Princess Laila Asmae, named after the sister of one of the kings.

Today, Sunday, Khadija and I went vegetable shopping in a town called Ahfir where there is a big open market on Sundays. We could see the mountains of Algeria in the distance, being only a mile or so from the border. On the way back I bought pottery from a road-side stand.

Ramadan: My typical day during Ramadan (for me, only 10 days, for Moroccans, 30 days) was as follows:

• Up at 7:00, no water, no breakfast, no coffee!!!
• 8-12; teach students who are also fasting (and yes, it does affect their ability to focus or to even show up for class)
• Come home and (for me) take a two-hour nap
• About 5:45 we hear the call to prayer, say "B'smila" ("In the name of God") and eat a date, and then herirra (Moroccan bean soup), and other choices including shebeqiya (sweet Moroccan cookie dipped in honey), hard-boiled eggs, pastries, maybe a meat tagine (stew), and these really good fruit shakes, made with milk and avocado or bananas or coconut. The trick is to eat slowly, not eat too much or too fast, and not eat everything on the table!!
• We then go to the TV room and watch the serials that are produced just for Ramadan. This is where I've worked a lot on my Moroccan Arabic listening skills.
• Not long after breaking our fast, maybe an hour, we have coffee and more munchies (mostly pastry-type things). Khadija then goes to the mosque with her mother for about two hours.
• At about 9 p.m. (the time I am usually in bed with a book in the U.S.) we either have Moroccan mint tea and more stuff to eat or we go out to a cafe for our tea and come home around 11. If we have our tea at home, afterwards Khadija and I go upstairs to work on lesson plans.
• At about midnight we are served "dinner." It is prepared "early" for Khadija and I since we get up early in the morning to go to school.
• I then go to bed about 1 or 1:30 and I don't sleep that well, which explains my need for a nap in the afternoon. The family gets up at 3 a.m. to pray and to have a small meal (Khadija skips this meal) before going back to sleep.

The morning of the Aid we got to have breakfast AND COFFEE!!! -- my first day of not fasting in Morocco. All the cookies Khadija and Fatiha had made during the previous week were beautifully displayed in the big salon, along with the teapot and glasses ready for mint tea. People knocked on the door to wish the family a happy Aid, and Khadija's brother's family came to celebrate the Aid with us. We had a big meal at 1 p.m., and then tea and cookies in the afternoon. We spent the rest of the day visiting other family members where we had more tea and cookies. Many people were in the street in their best clothes visiting friends and family.

The last word on fasting during Ramadan: What I forgot to write about earlier was the strong feeling of community I had during Ramadan. For me, fasting was not that hard because everyone was fasting. The fact that all Moroccans were fasting provided moral support in my efforts to fast. It has been a good lesson in the strength and need of community.

Sad news: As some of my students know, I have a family in Morocco, a family that essentially adopted me during my Peace Corps years in '97-'98. They were very good to me and made me very welcome in their country. I spent all the holidays with them and we became very close -- and have maintained that closeness through letters and phone calls. One of the personal highlights of this trip was that I would see them on my last day before going back to the U.S. I called them when I got to Oujda and talked to everyone in the family, including the father. The next morning I had a message that he had died during the night. Recognizing that these people are like family to me, the director of the Moroccan association working with Fulbright gave me three days' bereavement leave. So, I took the 10-hour train from Oujda at night, arriving in Mohammedia in the morning. I spent two days with this family sharing in the sorrow of their loss. The father was young (close to my age) and they don't really know what he died of. It is common for poor families in the country to just bury their dead without an autopsy or any insight on why the person died. Mjdob died in the morning and someone from the mosque came to the house to clean the body. He was buried the same day before sunset. His wife Fatna will stay in the house for four months and wear only white. For much of the day chants of the Qur'an played on the cassette player. Although it was all extremely sad, I was glad to be able to spend this time with my Moroccan family.

Life in the douar: My Moroccan family lives in a hamlet in the countryside, called a "douar," and has very few material possessions. The extended family lives in one small house, and when I was there, 18 of us were sleeping under the same roof. One thing impressive about the douar is seeing the extended family share the raising of the children. Children spend as much time with their aunts and uncles as they do with their own parents, and they are surrounded by an enormous amount of love.

Hammam (Public Bath): A wonderful solution to the cold was to go to the public bath house. There we stayed for a couple hours; scrubbing ourselves until our skin was as soft as a baby's. Women use these bath mitts the consistency of sandpaper and this special soap called "sabon bildi" (country soap) which is full of olive oil and other interesting things. The whole ritual is quite grueling, but you are extremely relaxed afterwards -- I slept about 12 hours that night!

Work Stuff: I have less than two weeks left at school and so these last couple weeks are busier as I try to get in a variety of activities. I continue to attend all of Khadija's classes where I usuallly teach part of the lesson -- tomorrow I will teach the entire class for one group. We have had students come after school for more fun activities a few times; on other afternoons I have visited other schools, both high school and primary. Today I visited another high school where we exchanged information about our cultural practices based on an activity in their book, for example, Do men wear earrings in your country?" The students found this extremely strange and were surprised to find out it is quite normal where I live. Tomorrow I will go to the Dar Chebab (youth center) to teach some young children songs, and next week I will do a presentation/discussion on "Stereotypes and Moroccan-American Communication;" to some university students.

Sitting in Cafés: One thing I have had a hard time adjusting to here is not having free access to cafés. Although there is no sign that says "No women allowed," the café scene is definitely a men's domain. In fact, in Mohammedia there was a café named "Men's Café"! With Khadija we usually go outside the city, toward the Algerian border, where they have these huge, very nice café/restaurant combos. However, the other day Khadija told me about a café about a half-hour walk from our house which I went to alone. I was the only woman in the joint, but a young women walked in about a half-hour later with her boyfriend. Oujda is, however, more conservative than Mohammedia, Rabat and Casablanca where I always had a little more freedom as far as hanging out in restaurants and cafés.

Youth Center: I've gone to one of the youth centers here a couple times. The first time I taught the song "Head, Shoulders, Knees & Toes" to some young children taking a music class. I was then asked to come back (I'm sure they were so impresed by my rendition of this song!!) to help a musical group of young adults with their English communication. They go to a music festival in Liverpool every year and wanted to be able to converse better. This evening ended up being one of the highlights of my trip. After practicing English conversation for about 20 minutes, they invited me to stay while they rehearsed. It was really extraordinary. The music they play is very traditional and specific to Oujda in Morocco. It is called Ghanati music and it dates back to the 800's in the city of Granada, during the period of time Arabs lived in the region of southern Spain. The music derives from Andalucian music and moved from Granada to Algeria (when the Arabs retreated to North Africa) and then to the city of Oujda in Morocco. The instruments they play are mandolins, ouds, a guitar, a banjo, violins (played upright on their knee) and percussion. They were extremely talented and have given televised concerts. They were kind enough to give me a DVD of a TV appearance as a souvenir.

Algerian Influence: In many ways Oujda is more like Algeria than the rest of Morocco. When the border was closed it split up many extended families. In fact, a lot of them do walk back and forth across the border while the authorities look the other way. There is also a lot of smuggling in of goods from Algeria, in fact, the only gas we put in Khadija's car is smuggled gas sold in jugs on the side of the road (I have pictures!) This has put many gas stations out of service. You see the Algerian influence in music (the Ghanati music I already wrote about), dance, traditional wear and in food. The Algerian influence often represents, in fact, a Turkish influence. This can be seen in some of the desserts they serve which are similar to Turkish sweets. Although Morocco was never part of the Ottoman Empire, Algeria was, thus the traces of Turkish culture here in Oujda.

Lost Passport: I'd like to address this particularly to those students who traveled or will with me to France and Spain. I did not wear a money belt and lost (or had stolen) my credit card, debit card, 1,000 dirhams (about 100 dollars) and, most important, my passport. Lesson learned!!! I've taken care of the credit cards and will need to have a new passport issued in Casablanca.

Bells: I just wanted to share with you that the schools in Morocco take the whole bells/no bells issue to a new level. They have a very, very loud siren (think of those heard in WWII movies of the Blitz!). I honestly think damage has been done to my heart which jumps into my throat every time it's time to change class!

Heading home: Well, I'm already starting to repack my things. I can't believe my time is almost up. It's been a lovely adventure, but I am ready to come home, particularly for the holidays. I will leave Casablanca a week from Sunday morning, and will be at Mercy Monday morning. I am really looking forward to seeing everyone, but expect me to look stunned and in utter culture shock!