"Don't you have any HAPPY holidays?"
January 18, 2006
During my trip home, I met one of my good friends for lunch. She brought her family and I brought stories from Morocco. We talked for what seemed like forever about life in Morocco until finally our waiter told us that we needed to order. I was amazed at the abundance of cheese in my burrito and of course all of the ice in my glass, things that are hard to come by in my little town. I tried to explain what my life is about in Tinejdad with my limited English skills and it was so nice to have someone actually ask questions and listen to me without getting bored about Moroccan life.
See, that was the only hard thing about being home. Aside from my family, when people found out that I’m living in Morocco, they asked questions out of curiosity but seemed to want the Cliff Notes version. I can’t sum of my last 15 months in a five minute conversation…even though I tried. So with a lot of people back home, I felt like I was just talking about the past when all I really wanted to do was find out about their own lives and what they have been doing this last year. That’s why I feel really lucky to have my mom, because whenever I talk to her, I’m not talking about what happened but what is happening. But on lunch that day, my friend wanted to listen to every story and was the nicest audience I had during my trip home.
One of my favorite parts about lunch was when her two boys asked me, “Do you have any holidays in Morocco?” I didn’t really know how to respond but said, “Well, we have one holiday where you fast for an entire month.”
“What is fast?” her youngest son asked.
“Fasting is when you do not eat. In Morocco, they fast during Ramadon from sunrise to sunset. There is also another holiday where everyone slaughters a sheep and eats the entire thing, head, feet, and all.”
That was when the boy just looked at me and said, “Don’t they have any happy holidays?”
I could only laugh because he was completely right. I had never really thought about it like that before. I guess to an American child, holidays are about presents, candy, costumes, and money. But none the less, every Moroccan child I know looks forward to the day of Leid l’Kbir, when every family slaughters a sheep and hangs its body in the doorway, followed by a three day feast of meat.
Last year during Leid lKbir, I went to Meknes for two weeks to spend the holiday with my host family. It was an amazing time and I had a lot of fun. But this year, I stayed home and had a different kind of experience.
Leid lKbir is celebrated about two months after the end of Ramadon and is the time when Muslims make their pilgrimage to Mecca. This holiday remembers the sacrifice by Abraham, who was told to do this by Allah, instead of sacrificing his son... Allah provided a sheep.
At 9 o’clock on Leid morning, Andy and I met outside dressed our best. It is traditional for everyone to wear a jllaba, or a kaftan (a more fancy jllaba for women), and for children to wear new clothes. I wore my new jllaba that I had tailored a couple of months before and Andy wore his as well. We had so many people to visit that we decided that we would walk to Tinejdad and say “Mabrok Leid” to all of our friends.
We started with my old host family, then Rachid’s mom’s house, and his grandfather’s house. At every house, we were given tea and cookies. It was hard to say no to all of the delicious foods. My jllaba attracted a lot of attention and because of that I will put it away in my closet until another festival comes along. All of my guy friends were like, "wow, look at Aura in her jllaba!" I guess the only way to look like a supermodel in this country is by wearing a bag of fitted fabric over your body.
We walked all the way to our host family’s house, keeping count of all the slaughtered sheep we saw along the way and not trying to step in the blood. When we got there, we watched Moha skin the sheep with help from his son Mustapha. The first time I saw this, I was pretty bothered by it, but this year it was no problem.
More tea filled our bellies and Zoura’s delicious cookies kept us company as we all waited for lunch. At lunch we ate brochettes and liver kbabs (they are really good), followed by a big platter of the best meat which we just ate with bread. My new site mate Moshay only eats chicken so he didn’t embark on the sheep eating feast.
After lunch, we all hit the breeze and had a fun time just talking and telling jokes. At dinner time, we had the same meal and it was just as good and filling. That night Andy and I walked the 40 minutes home in the freezing cold because we were so full that we had to walk it off.
The next night we visited Rachid’s grandfather’s house for another amazing meal of meat. All of his cousins were there and it was fun seeing everyone.
This last week I have had so many invitations to eat at people’s homes, and of course it is hashuma to decline. After about the first three days, families start to eat the head and ears and stuff, things I’d rather not enjoy again after last year. So, I was lucky this year in that in every house I went, they served me the good meat instead of the intestines.
It has now been a week since Leid and things are starting to get back to normal. People have returned to their jobs and children are going back to school. My dar chebab will start up again tomorrow night and tutoring will as well. It was a nice break to have after coming back from being in America. There are some really special people in Tinejdad that have touched my life and it is hard to think that ten and a half months from now I will be leaving this foreign place to start another adventure.
During my trip home, I met one of my good friends for lunch. She brought her family and I brought stories from Morocco. We talked for what seemed like forever about life in Morocco until finally our waiter told us that we needed to order. I was amazed at the abundance of cheese in my burrito and of course all of the ice in my glass, things that are hard to come by in my little town. I tried to explain what my life is about in Tinejdad with my limited English skills and it was so nice to have someone actually ask questions and listen to me without getting bored about Moroccan life.
See, that was the only hard thing about being home. Aside from my family, when people found out that I’m living in Morocco, they asked questions out of curiosity but seemed to want the Cliff Notes version. I can’t sum of my last 15 months in a five minute conversation…even though I tried. So with a lot of people back home, I felt like I was just talking about the past when all I really wanted to do was find out about their own lives and what they have been doing this last year. That’s why I feel really lucky to have my mom, because whenever I talk to her, I’m not talking about what happened but what is happening. But on lunch that day, my friend wanted to listen to every story and was the nicest audience I had during my trip home.
One of my favorite parts about lunch was when her two boys asked me, “Do you have any holidays in Morocco?” I didn’t really know how to respond but said, “Well, we have one holiday where you fast for an entire month.”
“What is fast?” her youngest son asked.
“Fasting is when you do not eat. In Morocco, they fast during Ramadon from sunrise to sunset. There is also another holiday where everyone slaughters a sheep and eats the entire thing, head, feet, and all.”
That was when the boy just looked at me and said, “Don’t they have any happy holidays?”
I could only laugh because he was completely right. I had never really thought about it like that before. I guess to an American child, holidays are about presents, candy, costumes, and money. But none the less, every Moroccan child I know looks forward to the day of Leid l’Kbir, when every family slaughters a sheep and hangs its body in the doorway, followed by a three day feast of meat.
Last year during Leid lKbir, I went to Meknes for two weeks to spend the holiday with my host family. It was an amazing time and I had a lot of fun. But this year, I stayed home and had a different kind of experience.
Leid lKbir is celebrated about two months after the end of Ramadon and is the time when Muslims make their pilgrimage to Mecca. This holiday remembers the sacrifice by Abraham, who was told to do this by Allah, instead of sacrificing his son... Allah provided a sheep.
At 9 o’clock on Leid morning, Andy and I met outside dressed our best. It is traditional for everyone to wear a jllaba, or a kaftan (a more fancy jllaba for women), and for children to wear new clothes. I wore my new jllaba that I had tailored a couple of months before and Andy wore his as well. We had so many people to visit that we decided that we would walk to Tinejdad and say “Mabrok Leid” to all of our friends.
We started with my old host family, then Rachid’s mom’s house, and his grandfather’s house. At every house, we were given tea and cookies. It was hard to say no to all of the delicious foods. My jllaba attracted a lot of attention and because of that I will put it away in my closet until another festival comes along. All of my guy friends were like, "wow, look at Aura in her jllaba!" I guess the only way to look like a supermodel in this country is by wearing a bag of fitted fabric over your body.
We walked all the way to our host family’s house, keeping count of all the slaughtered sheep we saw along the way and not trying to step in the blood. When we got there, we watched Moha skin the sheep with help from his son Mustapha. The first time I saw this, I was pretty bothered by it, but this year it was no problem.
More tea filled our bellies and Zoura’s delicious cookies kept us company as we all waited for lunch. At lunch we ate brochettes and liver kbabs (they are really good), followed by a big platter of the best meat which we just ate with bread. My new site mate Moshay only eats chicken so he didn’t embark on the sheep eating feast.
After lunch, we all hit the breeze and had a fun time just talking and telling jokes. At dinner time, we had the same meal and it was just as good and filling. That night Andy and I walked the 40 minutes home in the freezing cold because we were so full that we had to walk it off.
The next night we visited Rachid’s grandfather’s house for another amazing meal of meat. All of his cousins were there and it was fun seeing everyone.
This last week I have had so many invitations to eat at people’s homes, and of course it is hashuma to decline. After about the first three days, families start to eat the head and ears and stuff, things I’d rather not enjoy again after last year. So, I was lucky this year in that in every house I went, they served me the good meat instead of the intestines.
It has now been a week since Leid and things are starting to get back to normal. People have returned to their jobs and children are going back to school. My dar chebab will start up again tomorrow night and tutoring will as well. It was a nice break to have after coming back from being in America. There are some really special people in Tinejdad that have touched my life and it is hard to think that ten and a half months from now I will be leaving this foreign place to start another adventure.
posted by AEW @ 9:45 AM
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