The photos I wish I could show Moroccans when they ask me if I know how to cook.
Oh you can’t cook tagine? You should learn.
But if I wanted to eat a good tagine I tell them, I’d go to their house. Or the house of their mother.
Although with my impending COS, perhaps I really should learn!
Greens are hard to come by in Morocco.
In my almost two years here I’ve never had spinach. I’ve paid hefty prices for broccoli and brussels sprouts at supermarkets, but only a handful of times. You can forget about kale.
So you can imagine my surprise when a fellow volunteer called me to say she had asparagus in her site for 2 MAD a bunch and did I want any.
Of course I wanted some!
Later when she delivered it to me we discussed that scene in the movie Eat,Pray,Love where Julia Roberts is sitting on the floor of her villa practicing her Italian by reading La Repubblica. The camera pans beautifully on the food she is enjoying. A truly epic indoor picnic.
We thought: That could be us!
Well I didn’t eat on my floor and I didn’t practice my Italian, but I was happy just the same.
Cheers to the small things in life.
My aunt and her family came to visit last week. One of the major perks of which was that they rented a car, enabling us to save transportation time and to my delight, stop whenever we wanted.
Countless times I’ve headed up the mountain towards Azilal or Ouzoud, but never have been able to stop and enjoy the view from the road. The nature of taxis and the speed at which they drive prevents this. But oh how I’ve longed to stop.
To drink in valleys like this one.
Although to be honest, this photo does it no justice. Nor do any of the 10 or so other shots I tried to capture of this valley. The red of that dirt I love so much. The varying greens of the flora. The white minaret of a mosque, majestic looking in the middle of nowhere. I found myself drawn to the teeny, tiny little villages placed throughout. Collection of homes really.
How do you even get down there?
And of course with regard to my stomach,
What about souk?
In this age of the global village where everything and everyone is connected via satellites and the inter webs, it’s comforting for a romantic to know that life still exists in these seemingly unknown or forgotten places. That there are still places left untapped in the world. I remember feeling as much last year while on a hike with a volunteer and the youth from his outdoor leadership program. Throughout our daylong hike we stumbled across small villages not connected by major, or even minor thoroughfares, we’d hiked hours to get to them.
Of course, the likelihood exists that they’re more wired then I’d fancifully like to imagine. This is the age of smart phones after all. And I’m sure if I thought more about it I’d find that life 100 miles from nowhere really isn’t all that idealic. In fact it’s probably really hard.
But it’s fun to dream. Especially when you’re 100 miles from nowhere at the top of a valley.
Lunch with one of my students who lives in a small village outside of town. My bl3d.