Part 2 of 2

Another event that IES hosted was a learn how to cook like a Moroccan event. With the help of Leila, we learned how to cook and make tea like a Moroccan. As you may be aware, couscous is a staple of Moroccan society. Now, don’t confuse it with that boxed bird feed that people throw into a pot and let sit for 30 minutes. No, this is the semolina grain that Moroccans eat at least every Friday and serve with Tajine. Tajine is meat, vegetables, and sauce. It was absolutely delicious and I hope that I can take this to Morocco and use it with Mr. Cody to produce some excellent dishes for our friends. Sure, I did not take the best notes, but I hope Clara’s will carry me far. However, I did take very intricate notes regarding the tea. It requires lots of mint, cubed sugar, and water heated for roughly 5 minutes.

So, here comes the truly exciting part of my adventures thus far. Ali and I have found a way of being overly friendly with Moroccans. This means that instead of building friendships over weeks that we shoved friendships into a few days. One example of this came at Café Clock where a waiter, Muhammed, who I exchanged numbers with, served us. I few days later I went back to the café and had him as a waiter again. After his shift was over, he sat down and played some music on his guitar. A bunch of his friends came and we all jammed out. It is really an interesting situation to hang out with a bunch of Moroccans. It appears as if they do not have the same worries as those people in the United States. Maybe it is the pace of life or something in the water, but Moroccans tend to love life a lot more than Americans. I cannot pinpoint where the difference is, but where Americans are overstressed about certain things, Moroccans just do not have the same concerns. A perfect example comes from another friend of mine, named Muhammed of course, who basically lived life as it came. He spoke only one word of English “crazy”, but it was enough for me and him to strong friends. His appearance was that of a hippie from the 1970’s. His large afro would cause many people to laugh, but his actions were more memorable. He loved life. He took me downstairs to dance with himself and I wonder if I have ever laughed as hard as that night. I was the only white person downstairs until my friend Will came in and got in on the action. Most of IES was there that night, but the only people that could fully appreciate the truly ludicrous activities were Ali, Rachel, Erin, and myself. It was outstanding. It was the dream that I hope to live day in and day out. Sure, I absolutely miss Marist College and Massachusetts, but there is something to be said about not worrying about life. Sign me up any day of the week.