The little things
August 29, 2010
Today I was hurtin’ a bit because I didn’t sleep much last night on account of sweating too much. It’s HOT. I’m tired of my house being just above 90°F. On top of the temperature, my normally reliable ocean breeze has abandoned me. Not good for Ramadan!
Anyway, I took a nap this afternoon in an attempt to get myself closer to sunset (and water) faster. I also thought it’d be helpful if I could make up for last night’s lost sleep. Unfortunately, the nap only lasted for an hour and a half and I felt more like a truck had hit me than I had gotten any real rest. Ugh…
With two hours more between me and a tall glass of water (or three), I struggled to find things to do. I did dishes finally, which was good. Thought about reading a bit, but didn’t get too far. Eventually I went out to round up some bread and show my face to the world, briefly.
My trip up to the shop turned out to be fortuitous, as usual. Alhamdulillah, I needed something. The town pre-school teacher was there and I was happy to finally see her after the first few slow summer months. She’ll be getting married two weeks after Ramadan ends. Eep! Good for her! But I’m wondering where and when we’ll find a new teacher. She’s awfully good at what she does, too. She’ll be missed.
Although there wasn’t any bread to be had, the second bit of luck I had was that my host dad came in, bought some pumpkin/squash, and asked me to take it back to his house for him. At first I wasn’t too excited because I thought I really just wanted to break fast in my own house, being in the sorry shape I was mentally and physically, and in desperate desire of water. Grumbling just slightly (just slightly!) to myself, I braced myself for the coming two hours or so and made my way over to my old neighborhood.
However much I might think I don’t want to go over to my host family’s house, I can never resist smiling when the door finally opens to me. I love them quite a lot.
Not too long into hanging around the kitchen watching my host mom get things ready for fdour (breakfast, Tash-ified form of the Arabic, al-iftar), she asked me if I might have any mint around my house. I said no, and she commented that I must not make mint tea. I don’t, I like water and I don’t particularly like mint (don’t tell any Moroccans!). Then she asked if I had any milk, and I said I had Nido (powdered milk that’s actually pretty darn good, the only milk I use these days really). I asked if she wanted me to bring some, and she said sure. I headed out to see what I could do.
I didn’t make it too far out the door before I decided I’d see if I could land some mint for her, if that’s what she really wanted. I owe my family for taking care of me, especially during Ramadan. I always want to bring them something to contribute to fdour, but I never feel confident about what I should bring. Here was my chance.
I hit up the shop where I ran in to my host dad and got a liter of milk and a bunch of rather shwiya-looking mint. That is, it looked a little sad. Not the best, but it smelled good. When I took it back to my host mom she seemed pretty happy, which made me happy. She said, more to my host cousin than to me, something along the lines of, “Mint was what I really wanted, milk just can’t get rid of the heat the way mint tea can! Oh, it smells good!” She went on about it and sounded more than satisfied. That felt good. For a random side note, I’m not sure how tea, mint tea, or their version of milk could help anyone cool down in any way. They’re all HOT and full of sugar to boot. Just because a little mint is in there, I don’t think that helps cool a body down. But so much is psychological here, I suppose…
With that my evening started to get better. I hauled some water for my host mom as usual, then just bummed around watching her and the kids. Today I was so thirsty (and tired of the heat) that I actually drank two tea glasses of water from their cistern. I’ve been diligent about not drinking any untreated water in town, but I wanted it so badly today. I don’t imagine it’ll do anything to me, but I thought about it as I drank it.
When it came time to eat soup I got a head start alone, as my host mom was praying and my host dad hadn’t come home yet. A funny thing happened tonight with the soup. My little host brother Anwar, who’s just over a year and a half old now, decided he didn’t want any soup other than my soup. Even though he had his own bowl, and his mom tried to feed it to him, he kept walking up and leaning over my bowl, smacking his lips and waiting patiently for me to feed him some from my spoon. This wasn’t anything ordinary, I’ve only ever fed him a yogurt one time a few months ago. I’ve never fed another kid other than him, so it’s quite the experience for me. Anyway, I managed to give him as much as he wanted without us making too much of a mess. No matter how much his mom or his dad tried to get him to eat his own soup, or his brother’s, he persisted in lining up for mine. I got a kick out of it. He at least helped me make sure I didn’t eat too much. Cute kid. Glad I can go home to peace and quiet after playing with him for an hour or two.
After our soup, dates, bread, and hot milk with sugar and Nescafe instant coffee, we sat around a bit watching the Tamazight/Berber television channel until it was time for my host dad and Hussein, the five-year-old, to head off to the mosque. I got up to head on home, eager for water and the freedom of less clothing. If I stayed for dinner, I’d have to stay quite a bit longer. Today I just wasn’t up for it. But it felt awfully nice to have both my host parents ask where I was going, wouldn’t I stay for soucsou, couscous dinner? I apologized and said I was tired, and they encouraged me to stay, but said that I knew best and that it was ok if I wanted to go. I really appreciated the sincerity of their invitation. Tonight I felt even more welcomed than usual and I felt like I was almost a part of the family. It helps that I’ve been there a bit more than usual since Ramadan started. I need to spend more time with them on a regular basis.
So it was a good night. And now I’m glad to be home, drinking lots of cool water and wearing not much in the way of clothing. It’s still hot, to my dismay. Hopefully the weather will turn this week.
To end this post I’ll add a picture I took of cute little Anwar a couple weeks ago. We were playing peek-a-boo in one of the courtyards of their house, and I snapped a picture as he ran to sneak up on me.
Although there's no Tashlheit word for "cute", this would be definition of it if there were one.
