MBROOK LAYEED! That's the phonetic spelling of what is the equivalent of our Happy Holiday. Today is a very special day in the life of a Muslim, and became a special day to me, as well. This is my third Ramadan here, and each Layeed has been a bit different. I think this one was the most special, as I felt a true sense of community.
My day started with awakening at 5:30 a.m. after actually sleeping the entire night. My guess that I've been having sleepness nights primarily due to the various calls from the mosque during the night must have been accurate. After a light breakfast, I prepared to go for a walk, when the doorbell rang about 7:30, and it was one of my landlords with a tray of food for me, the traditional flat square fried bread, (L-msemn) and a rice-pearl barley type of dish. No sooner did I have a few bites of that, put it in the frig to eat later, then again there's a knock
on the door, this time the youngest son of my counterpart,
telling me to
come to break-
fast at their
house. Here is
Malika pouring
the traditional
mint tea,and the same foods on her table that my landlord brought me.
The day so reminds me of our holidays when all the family comes home, and who cannot, call or are called. So it is here.
Her daughter-in-law was there with her
little girl, and
many phone calls(notice
cell phone)were made
to missing family
members delivering
holiday greetings.
I then went to the home of my sassy little friend who works at the neddy; I call her my Moroccan daughter. She is the one second on the right. Big family gathering.
After the various breads, they brought out the sweets: cookies and cakes. At this house, as well as the previous one, they know
I prefer
unsugared
tea,so they
thoughtfully
make me a
separate little pot. I had three "breakfasts" in as many hours!
I inquired as to the age of this old woman who I had not met before, and no one seemed to know for sure, not even her daughter. That is a fairly common thing here; years ago birthdates were not recorded, and even women my age may only know their year of birth, not the month or day. Things have changed now; everyone must have a national identity card which shows their birthdate. However, these women have lived a very hard life, so often times a women who is 70 may look 90.
Numerous houses here have sort of a courtyard in the middle with rooms around in a square.
These boys were having
a little soccer game there,
and made me so wistful to
be with my grandkids. I
relayedthis to the people,
which then started a conversation with the men (the women were clearing up) about where I lived in America; that segued into a discussion regarding geography so they could understand how big Montana is and how few people, and how Morocco is so similar to California,etc. They asked me if I would be returning to Morocco, and I mentioned how that isn't likely as it costs so much to travel, and I wanted to see other parts of the world, which led to a discussion about the U. S. economy, of which they were aware, having seen newscasts of our current problems. As many are, were also quite amazed to know that I have been driving a car for 50 years(ohmygawd, can that be true?!)and that I actually drove 50,000 kilometers in one year before I came here. So it was quite a cultural exchange!
They wanted me to stay for the main meal, but I needed to make one more stop at another friends, so Fatima came with me and we visited another home, where I drank one glass of sugared tea and ate a couple more cookies and listened to everyone else visit. Again was invited to stay for their meal, which smelled great, but I was tea'd and carbed out and still feeling the effects of my cold, so begged off and returned
home. Now glad to be here as we're having yet
another afternoon rainshower.
This view is on the walk to the last home
visited. I must admit that as much as I am so happy to be soon returning to family and friends, I know that when it is time to leave, it will be with much sadness, as these people have truly touched my heart. And I think, just maybe, this non-Muslim, American, woman has touched theirs as well.
My day started with awakening at 5:30 a.m. after actually sleeping the entire night. My guess that I've been having sleepness nights primarily due to the various calls from the mosque during the night must have been accurate. After a light breakfast, I prepared to go for a walk, when the doorbell rang about 7:30, and it was one of my landlords with a tray of food for me, the traditional flat square fried bread, (L-msemn) and a rice-pearl barley type of dish. No sooner did I have a few bites of that, put it in the frig to eat later, then again there's a knock
on the door, this time the youngest son of my counterpart,telling me to
come to break-
fast at their
house. Here is
Malika pouring
the traditional
mint tea,and the same foods on her table that my landlord brought me.
The day so reminds me of our holidays when all the family comes home, and who cannot, call or are called. So it is here.
Her daughter-in-law was there with herlittle girl, and
many phone calls(notice
cell phone)were made
to missing family
members delivering
holiday greetings.
I then went to the home of my sassy little friend who works at the neddy; I call her my Moroccan daughter. She is the one second on the right. Big family gathering.
After the various breads, they brought out the sweets: cookies and cakes. At this house, as well as the previous one, they knowI prefer
unsugared
tea,so they
thoughtfully
make me a
separate little pot. I had three "breakfasts" in as many hours!
I inquired as to the age of this old woman who I had not met before, and no one seemed to know for sure, not even her daughter. That is a fairly common thing here; years ago birthdates were not recorded, and even women my age may only know their year of birth, not the month or day. Things have changed now; everyone must have a national identity card which shows their birthdate. However, these women have lived a very hard life, so often times a women who is 70 may look 90.
Numerous houses here have sort of a courtyard in the middle with rooms around in a square.
These boys were having
a little soccer game there,
and made me so wistful to
be with my grandkids. I
relayedthis to the people,
which then started a conversation with the men (the women were clearing up) about where I lived in America; that segued into a discussion regarding geography so they could understand how big Montana is and how few people, and how Morocco is so similar to California,etc. They asked me if I would be returning to Morocco, and I mentioned how that isn't likely as it costs so much to travel, and I wanted to see other parts of the world, which led to a discussion about the U. S. economy, of which they were aware, having seen newscasts of our current problems. As many are, were also quite amazed to know that I have been driving a car for 50 years(ohmygawd, can that be true?!)and that I actually drove 50,000 kilometers in one year before I came here. So it was quite a cultural exchange!
They wanted me to stay for the main meal, but I needed to make one more stop at another friends, so Fatima came with me and we visited another home, where I drank one glass of sugared tea and ate a couple more cookies and listened to everyone else visit. Again was invited to stay for their meal, which smelled great, but I was tea'd and carbed out and still feeling the effects of my cold, so begged off and returned
home. Now glad to be here as we're having yet
another afternoon rainshower.
This view is on the walk to the last home
visited. I must admit that as much as I am so happy to be soon returning to family and friends, I know that when it is time to leave, it will be with much sadness, as these people have truly touched my heart. And I think, just maybe, this non-Muslim, American, woman has touched theirs as well.
posted by Connie Genger | 8:04 AM
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