I can't believe this is my last post in Morocco. The time has flown by, and I can't accurately express in words the levels and kinds of emotions that are tumbling around right now. "Sad" is such a disgustingly simplified word that I don't know that it really means anything. I'll just leave it at that.
As the title indicates, today was a rather odd day. I woke up to a phone call, and a "Trusty" Travel Clock that said 2:17. It was not, in fact, 2:17; my clock was off by over 4 hours. Which is weird, because when I set it last night, IT HAD THE CORRECT TIME. I suspect the fey-folk were involved. Them, or low batteries. Tomorrow (which, by the time this is published will be today here...but still yesterday there, which is today oh, time-zones!), I'm just using my phone's alarm, because that one has never failed me, nor has it ever randomly skipped hours in the day without cause or warning.
My day was further wack-ified by an intense, sudden dislike for people, as I scrambled (or rather, moved slower than the continental drift) through the souk, trying to wrap up the very last of the gift shopping for both sets of family. I have never been as intensely aware of my dislike for people who don't walk at a real pace. I also suspect that all my karma levels have been severely wrecked from all of the mental swearing that I was doing.
I returned to my house about five minutes after the REAL 2:00, only to be immediately summoned to leave again. I'm still not sure what we were attending (I think it was at a school, because there were a lot of dressed up little kids) but I think you'll all get a sufficient mental picture by the following description: mosaic floors, clowns, and Oppa Gangnam Style. It was really rather bizarre.
From there, I went to not-my-house. I was perplexed, because I thought the woman in question was going to help me shop for Mama after iftar, but I guess she made up some excuse involving her host-son, who also happens to be a fellow NSLI kid.
I got back at the crack of 5:30, which was exactly when I needed to be back.(For those of you who question why this is so impressive and worth mentioning: You have never operated on Moroccan time. This is like some sort of miracle.) And was again summoned to leave the house (although it was expected), this time for the Hamman. I'd been wanting to go basically the entire time, but between weekend trips, school, Ramadan, and a particularly nasty sunburn, it never worked. Let me tell you: life changing experience. It was fantastic. You would never believe the amount of dead skin that you have on your body, just waiting to be sluffed off.
We ate iftar at not-my-house, which was a bit sad, but in a funny way it was kind of fitting, because it was the same place we ate the first iftar of Ramadan at, and just as I had been the first day, today I was fasting.
Aside from that, it was a little time with Mama and lots of time packing, and now I'm writing this and listening to some sort of traditional music (very beautiful) that is playing in the medina. Not sure if it's live or not. (Edit 1:07 AM: It's still going on, and I believe that it is live.) But it seems like a lovely sort of send-off.
As the title indicates, today was a rather odd day. I woke up to a phone call, and a "Trusty" Travel Clock that said 2:17. It was not, in fact, 2:17; my clock was off by over 4 hours. Which is weird, because when I set it last night, IT HAD THE CORRECT TIME. I suspect the fey-folk were involved. Them, or low batteries. Tomorrow (which, by the time this is published will be today here...but still yesterday there, which is today
My day was further wack-ified by an intense, sudden dislike for people, as I scrambled (or rather, moved slower than the continental drift) through the souk, trying to wrap up the very last of the gift shopping for both sets of family. I have never been as intensely aware of my dislike for people who don't walk at a real pace. I also suspect that all my karma levels have been severely wrecked from all of the mental swearing that I was doing.
I returned to my house about five minutes after the REAL 2:00, only to be immediately summoned to leave again. I'm still not sure what we were attending (I think it was at a school, because there were a lot of dressed up little kids) but I think you'll all get a sufficient mental picture by the following description: mosaic floors, clowns, and Oppa Gangnam Style. It was really rather bizarre.
From there, I went to not-my-house. I was perplexed, because I thought the woman in question was going to help me shop for Mama after iftar, but I guess she made up some excuse involving her host-son, who also happens to be a fellow NSLI kid.
I got back at the crack of 5:30, which was exactly when I needed to be back.(For those of you who question why this is so impressive and worth mentioning: You have never operated on Moroccan time. This is like some sort of miracle.) And was again summoned to leave the house (although it was expected), this time for the Hamman. I'd been wanting to go basically the entire time, but between weekend trips, school, Ramadan, and a particularly nasty sunburn, it never worked. Let me tell you: life changing experience. It was fantastic. You would never believe the amount of dead skin that you have on your body, just waiting to be sluffed off.
We ate iftar at not-my-house, which was a bit sad, but in a funny way it was kind of fitting, because it was the same place we ate the first iftar of Ramadan at, and just as I had been the first day, today I was fasting.
Aside from that, it was a little time with Mama and lots of time packing, and now I'm writing this and listening to some sort of traditional music (very beautiful) that is playing in the medina. Not sure if it's live or not. (Edit 1:07 AM: It's still going on, and I believe that it is live.) But it seems like a lovely sort of send-off.
Glad you did make it to hammam before you left!
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