I keep telling Alex that someone studying ethics should come to Morocco. I've never understood the appeal of an ethics course, and never wanted to take one. Good, bad, it's subjective. But in Morocco, there are such extremities between good and bad that I've never experienced before. Maybe that's a feature of an unstable country.
A few days ago I made Sara come with me to a patisserie I really like for insimin. Insimin is basically fried bread. Sometimes known as a "moroccan pancake," although I shun and correct people who call it a "pancake." It's insimin. I ordered it with cheese and honey and then this man pointed to harsha, which is like corn bread, and said how delicious that was with cheese and honey. I told him that I loved harsha, but that I didn't have enough money, even though he said it was cheap. He ordered two with honey and cheese. When I tried to pay, he wouldn't let me, but I thought you just didn't pay right away. He was asking where I was from, and told me he motorcycled across the country. When Sara and I sat down, he asked if we wanted moroccan tea or café au lait. I got moroccan tea (which tastes like mint syrup). Then he came over as we were eating all of our food, said that it was all paid for, gave me his number, shop address and left. Later that day I sorted books, and then Alex and I went for a walk around four to take a break from the apartment. We ended up getting back around nine. We walked for an hour until we got to where we wanted to Habous, a somewhat touristy place where the French settled so they could segregate themselves from the Moroccans. Since we were planning on making peanut butter cookies for Terry's birthday, I was inclined to turn back. But Alex really wanted to walk more, and I didn't want to turn back by myself because it's far away and I have no sense of direction so I was sure to get lost. A few minutes later, we found a spice/date/nuts market. The first seller gave us a few dates, which we ate and marveled at how delicious and juicy they were. "These are the best dates I've ever had," I said. Alex agreed. The second seller gave us a couple dates and full walnuts (yum!). I put the walnuts in the dates, which is one of my favorite snacks. Then, no joke, the next seller gave us more dates, more almonds, and more walnuts. "Now THESE are the best dates I've ever had." Again, Alex agreed. That same scene took place today as well. There's no way I'll be able to eat dates the same way. After our snack, we wandered around, came upon a cookie shop, thinking we should get cookies for our housemates and Terry. The guy working there immediately grabbed two sugar-dusted cookies that were buttery and flavored with coconut and lemon. Then he gave us this rosemary-tea cookie. We bought 1/2 kilo of a mélange. Ten or fifteen minutes later we passed by clothing markets, and Alex was trying to haggle for shirts. A young man working there gave us (or forced upon us) café au lait (which was really just hot, sugared milk flavored with coffee) and chocolate filled croissants. After that, we walked more, looking at people's carts, and this other guy forced a delicious fruit-pudding on us. Although we repeatedly told us no, he kept it in front of us for a couple minutes, then proceeded to take a bit of it, ensuring us that the pudding was, in fact, edible.
A good example of this is what happened to Rebecca last week. I'll summarize it for you: A boy on a scooter came up to her and started pulling on her bag. Luckily for her, she had a firm grip on it- and she was extremely motivated because all her money and her passport were in the bag. She yanked and kicked him until he finally gave up and ran away. Suddenly, swarms of taxi drivers huddled around her, asking her if she was okay, then ushering into her car, continually asking her if she was okay. Still shocked, she got into the taxi unsure of her next move. He offered her an orange, drove not to Twin Centers (where we live), but to the police office. He wrote a report, dropped her off at twin centers, refusing to accept any money.
While stretching our legs after a three-hour train ride from Fes before calling a petit taxi, Alex and I were followed by a young man with dreads around our age. Although he seemed friendly, and with good intentions, we were still weary of him. "What do you want?" We asked in French. In order to get away from him, we went to a gas station to ask for directions to Twin Center. An older man filling up glass pointed the way. So, we began walking. Only a few minutes later the same man honked at us and beckoned us over to the car. He was with his wife, and his four small children were stacked on each other in the back seat leaving two spaces. He insisted he drive us back. So we got a free ride.
A few days ago I made Sara come with me to a patisserie I really like for insimin. Insimin is basically fried bread. Sometimes known as a "moroccan pancake," although I shun and correct people who call it a "pancake." It's insimin. I ordered it with cheese and honey and then this man pointed to harsha, which is like corn bread, and said how delicious that was with cheese and honey. I told him that I loved harsha, but that I didn't have enough money, even though he said it was cheap. He ordered two with honey and cheese. When I tried to pay, he wouldn't let me, but I thought you just didn't pay right away. He was asking where I was from, and told me he motorcycled across the country. When Sara and I sat down, he asked if we wanted moroccan tea or café au lait. I got moroccan tea (which tastes like mint syrup). Then he came over as we were eating all of our food, said that it was all paid for, gave me his number, shop address and left. Later that day I sorted books, and then Alex and I went for a walk around four to take a break from the apartment. We ended up getting back around nine. We walked for an hour until we got to where we wanted to Habous, a somewhat touristy place where the French settled so they could segregate themselves from the Moroccans. Since we were planning on making peanut butter cookies for Terry's birthday, I was inclined to turn back. But Alex really wanted to walk more, and I didn't want to turn back by myself because it's far away and I have no sense of direction so I was sure to get lost. A few minutes later, we found a spice/date/nuts market. The first seller gave us a few dates, which we ate and marveled at how delicious and juicy they were. "These are the best dates I've ever had," I said. Alex agreed. The second seller gave us a couple dates and full walnuts (yum!). I put the walnuts in the dates, which is one of my favorite snacks. Then, no joke, the next seller gave us more dates, more almonds, and more walnuts. "Now THESE are the best dates I've ever had." Again, Alex agreed. That same scene took place today as well. There's no way I'll be able to eat dates the same way. After our snack, we wandered around, came upon a cookie shop, thinking we should get cookies for our housemates and Terry. The guy working there immediately grabbed two sugar-dusted cookies that were buttery and flavored with coconut and lemon. Then he gave us this rosemary-tea cookie. We bought 1/2 kilo of a mélange. Ten or fifteen minutes later we passed by clothing markets, and Alex was trying to haggle for shirts. A young man working there gave us (or forced upon us) café au lait (which was really just hot, sugared milk flavored with coffee) and chocolate filled croissants. After that, we walked more, looking at people's carts, and this other guy forced a delicious fruit-pudding on us. Although we repeatedly told us no, he kept it in front of us for a couple minutes, then proceeded to take a bit of it, ensuring us that the pudding was, in fact, edible.
We are constantly exposed to people expressing incredible amounts of generosity. I've never experience this much generosity in my life. At the same time, we have to keep on our toes. I've never experienced this much negative attention from men in my life (though nothing particularly dangerous), or people trying desperately to scam me. At least life is interesting.
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