"Suds In The Bucket"

...left the suds in the bucket
and the clothes hangin' out on the line...

     I'm initially selected this Sara Evans song because I happened to be doing laundry right then.  Then I thought of the lyrics and saw more than a little bit of irony.  The tune is about a girl who at 18 up and leaves her parents to run off with a guy.  In my case, add a quarter-century (and subtract the guy).

     A good friend of mine once upon a time didn't know I was within earshot just around a corner when he remarked that "It takes Jack a while warm up to people, but once he takes you in, he'll treat you like a brother".  I have to concede the first part is true; I hope the second part is, too.  Anyway, coming here to start life anew, alone, was is a challenge.  Accepting the graciousness and hospitality of others doesn't come easy; just last week I declined an impromptu dinner invitation by a family here on campus for no good reason other than...well, when I think of one, I'll let you know.

     It's been said by those who have been here for a while that here in Morocco "It's all about relationships."  Whatever.  Yet, for some reason, recently I was really struck when a young colleague said he appreciates the relationship he has built with the man who owns the hanout (ha-NEWT) by his apartment.  It made me think.  There is a hanoot, think a 7-11 the size of a deluxe walk-in closet, about 100 yds outside the gate here.  I almost never went there.  I now go there to get some of the little things I would otherwise pick up on my big shopping trips.  The 2 men who run the place speak Arabic first, then French.  English, no.  But, I'm trying - and I noticed something one day last week.

     I have a weakness for Swedish fish, gummy bears and the like.  I went to the hanoot the other day and placed a coin on the counter and pointed to one of the plastic jugs holding candies and asked for what the amount that coin would purchase.  I'm barely paying attention when I just happened to see the older man addressing the younger one.  My Arabic is next-to-nothing, but I could tell what was happening.  The old man was telling the other one to not get the older, more stale candy from the jug right there on the counter, but to get it instead from a newer one in the back.  That was nice.

     I took some photos this week of other people who live here that I have regular contact with, but they are atrocious I can't fathom the thought of posting them.  Sorry, I'm exerting executive privilege here.  If I had posted photos...

     I've been taking weekly private French lessons since the fall.  My tutor's name is Pascale.  She's crazy.  I love her.  My main man Soufiane works in the kitchen and hooks me up with a perfect cafe au lait and cinnamon roll that he knows I'l order when he sees me enter the cafeteria at break time.  The security guards are all nice guys, but there are two who are particularly good men that I've become very friendly with.  Actually, their picture wasn't half-bad.

     Update - just got home from Easter Sunday Mass at a Catholic church way downtown.  It is called Eglise du Christ Roi - Church of Christ the King.  On Sundays at 6pm they have the only English-language services of the small handful of Catholic churches in Casa.  It was a tiny, non-descript building that was SRO this evening with about 175 people, a very large percentage of them Filipino.  There was a good bit of singing, some of it in Tagalog.  Interesting experience.

     Anyway, I'm getting tired, so it's time to roll on out of here.  Gotta get ready for the desert next week - see ya in two weeks!!

"No Hurry"

Yogi Berra said "You can observe a lot by watching".  And every day brings me something that makes me shake my head (as I don't know whether to laugh or cry!)  Work has been crazy busy.  I haven't breathed since I can't remember.  Hasn't been bad, just nuts.  I haven't taken the time lately to collect my thoughts.  The next 2-3 weeks I promise will be chock-full-o'-photos.  Til then...

Ain't in no hurry
Be a fool now to worry
About all those things I can't change
And the time that I borrow
Can wait till tomorrow
Cause I ain't in no hurry
Ain't in no hurry today

"Comin' To Your City"

Well we flew through Cincinnati and we all got really happy
Grabbed a bowl of that skyline chili along the way
Then we rolled on into Canton scared the hell out of Marilyn Manson
And the party started happenin', hey hey hey...
Then in the middle of a Charleston night, we ran into Jessica White
And a little moonshine got us right plumb smack insane...

Well we broke down in Greenville in the middle of a hayfield
But a Bud Light truck pulled up and helped us out
So we Deadheaded up to Philly, partied down like real hillbillies
Brought the Music Mafia and rocked it out...
And Chippewa's where we go when we're up in Buffalo
Don't you know those Yankees drink enough to drown?...

Give it up for Big & Rich!
It seems appropriate that the GWA International Festival was yesterday; lately, I've been particularly struck by the remarkable diversity of cultures that exist here.  This is neither new nor surprising.  If you look high up on the wall of the MultiPurpose Room at the school, you will see the flags of nations represented here by a student body of less than 800.  Get out your almanacs...

Two very recent topics in 6th grade social studies have been ancient Egypt and Hinduism.  It so happens that a pair of wonderful girls in one classroom have Egyptian and Indian heritage and have given tremendous insight into those topics.  I can't remember how a recent conversation with a high school boy turned to Syria, but I'll never forget how he offered his opinion on Assad and grabbed his buddy walking by who happened to be a native of Syria, asked him the same question and got a very different response, let's just say.  The kids around these parts look to the U.S. for pop culture but are certainly aware of what's going on in the Middle East and Africa.

Anyway, back to the International Festival.  Elementary students did art and social studies projects on what had to be a couple dozen or so countries and put on cultural performances under sunny skies.  I took some crappy pics of all the tents where you could look at the projects and didn't get any of the dancing.  That's why I'm glad I noticed that a very nice young woman who is an elementary teacher here had posted some fine photos.  Major props to Ruthie...

Who is that stud standing to the right in the last photo?  He shows up in another pic, too:

Representing Jersey for the Red, White and Blue! 

Hit 82 yesterday.  It's that time of year - March Madness and Spring Training!  I love it!!!
USA!  USA!  USA!

Well we're comin' to your city
Gonna play our guitars and sing you a country song
We'll all be flyin' higher than a jet airliner
And if you want a little bang in your ying yang come along...
 

"You Can't Take The Honky Tonk Out Of The Girl"

Yeah, she lives in L.A. she flies to New York City
That woman’s been around the world
You can take the girl out of the honky tonk
But you can’t take the honky tonk, take the honky tonk
Out of the girl

  Thank you, Kix Brooks & Ronnie Dunn - wish you two would get back together...You are what you are, right?  A zebra can't change its stripes.  On Wednesday night the HR department held the last of a series of continuing orientation functions for new staff.  Since I hadn't attended all the others and this one was being held on-campus in the building adjacent to my apartment I didn't have much excuse not to go.

(Just took a phone call here at home from my roommate who is out at the store; I'm helping him buy vodka.  Earlier this year has been wine and cigars; I'm very proud of my corrupting influence!)

  Anyway...yeah, the gig was next door.  Plus, there was going to be pizza.  Hey, after a long day I just wanna go home and feed my face and surf the 'net.  The people here are very nice, but I work with them and live them; I need Jack time.  In my defense, I've made myself do a lot things I've never done, or wouldn't typically do voluntarily.  My nature is such that it takes me a long time to warm up to people, and this bunch is a very different demographic.
  But, I'm glad I went.  And not just for the Papa John's.  Well, mostly.  But it really was interesting.  At this point, we didn't as much talk about what we might expect as much as we reflected on what we've experienced.  I don't think I was ever overly shocked by anything.  I think I've done a good job of jumping feet first into the experience and getting 'bout near everything I can from it.  Given how I am, it could've been a complete disaster, and a few months ago it was an even bet.  Now, I'm fairly comfortable and actually look forward to returning in the fall.
    However, at the same time, I've clung tight to certain things.  A student I'm close to gives me grief all the time about what I'm certain to get if I eat at the mall.  Chicken McNuggets, fries, diet Coke.  Yup, that's my comfort food.  I'll have Indian, Thai, Chinese and others, too, but the Golden Arches is my go-to.  And I wish I'd be able to watch more of March Madness, and the Phils on opening day, and a bunch of other things I've always appreciated, but now even more, if that's possible.
  What I thought was the most interesting was something I hadn't even really noticed.  We were told early on that here "it's all about relationships".  Greetings are elaborate.  It's rude to 'hit-n-run' when you see someone, if that makes sense.  I hadn't realized I'd internalized that.  Whenever I'm walking thru campus and encounter a couple of the security guards I'm real friendly with I will chat with them (as much as I'm to, at least).  I noticed that I felt real bad when I was 'on a mission' and had to sort of blow them off and not take the time to have a conversation.
  If you know me, I am an avid student of human nature and society.  I love talking to people who come from a different perspctive about the world.  Here, that can get real interesting.  Like the 2 boys earlier this week who, um, didn't see eye-to-eye on the Syrian president Assad.  One thought he was the greatest leader, the other hoped not only that he died but his whole family as well.  I stayed neutral.  My mama didn't raise no fool.  6th grade social studies classes have been fun, as we've learned recently about ancient Egypt and India, and the 2 girls from those places have enlightened us all with their perspectives.  I often get more out of school than the students.
  Hmmm...what other things have I learned lately?  I should've listened to Danielle; a small, 1kg bag of instant couscous makes A LOT MORE than you might think - you wanna guess what I've been snacking on for days with no end in sight?  Speaking of the metric system, I like weighing 110 kg, though I think standing 1 meter 90 cm makes me sound shorter. On a list of top 10 Moroccan sports, soccer would be numbers 1-8.  Voleyball makes the cut.  You know what rounds out the list?  Badminton!  Really.  I'm a sports nut, but I still can't believe I'm following soccer.  When in Rome Casablanca...

Yeah, he lives in Casa, he flies to Italy
That man’s been around the world
You can take the guy out of New Jersey
But you can’t take the New Jersey, take the New Jersey
Out of the guy ;)

"Only God Knows Why"

I've been sittin' here
Tryin' to find myself
I get behind myself
I need to rewind myself...

Country tunes take a time out this week, courtesy of Kid Rock.
 
With the advent of March comes a lot of decisions.  I've had to do a lot if figuring.  There appears to be a place here at GWA for me.  Will I be here for GWA?  A couple of months ago I'd have said no way, but now I believe so.  I'm finally something that resembles comfortable with my job and place, which are not the same thing.  Is international education my future, or should I move forward to the past?  Damned if I know.  Who does?  Wish I knew...

People don't know
'Bout the things I say and do
They don't understand
'Bout the shit that I've been through...

I've brought a lot of things upon myself, leading to where I am in the present.  Some things didn't, and couldn't see them coming.  Either way, it is what it is, and I do not know if I will ever get back to where I used to be.  Is it even possible?  If so, should I even try?  Can I make my own destiny, or is my fate already determined?  Are those last two sentences related or not?  Seems to depend on who you ask...

I've been gone
I've been gone for way too long
And maybe I forgot
All the things I miss...

Spring is springing and with it comes some of the things I cherish most.  The beginning of March means the Philadelphia Flower Show, the oldest and largest such event in the U.S.  Accompanying it are the wisecracks from my male friends.  Hey, I appreciate art in all its forms, including horticulture, especially bonsai.  It's always nice to go down with certain of my friends from Woods and do all the things we always do.  Soon after is the Conwell-Egan Catholic H.S. charity basketball marathon with all the Lower Bucks gang.  Spring training is in full swing; every team is undefeated and has a shot at taking the Fall Classic.  It's always magical under the sun in the Grapefruit and Cactus leagues.  Maybe best of all is March Madness; the first weekend is certainly the very best time of the year.  While I wish to heaven I was going to be home for the PFS and CEC tourney, the thought hasn't been depressing.  I wouldn't have guessed...

Oh, somehow I know
There's more to life than this
You get what you put in
And people get what they deserve...

I didn't even begin to learn what love was until years after my divorce.  Then, what is actually important in life until my 40s.  I had to lose absolutely, positively everything, and then some, to learn just how much I had.  I gambled with my life on nothing more than a hunch, my gut, that I could travel by myself 4000 miles to another continent to finally, after many stumbles, stand stronger than I had in...forever?  What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger?  I'd be lying if I said I had any doubts, for sure...

I've been walkin' that there line
So I think I'll keep a walkin'
With my head held high
I'll keep movin' on...

And only God knows why.
 

"No Shoes, No Shirt, No Problems"

I've been up to my neck workin' 6 days a week.
Wearin' holes in the soles of the shoes on my feet
Been dreamin' of gettin' away since I don't know.
Ain't no better time than now...
Want to soak up life for a while
in laid back mode.
No boss, no clock, no stress, no dress code...

Kenny Chesney probably didn't have me in mind when he wrote this song, but more on that later...
Actually, I haven't worked at all this week - I've been on recess!  Just did a bunch of little things close to home.
I visited the Museum of Moroccan Judaism.  Yes, you read that correctly.  I don't want to get this wrong, so I'm going to use Google's own description:

     Better known as simply the Jewish Museum, this is the only of its kind to be found in the
     Islamic world, and is often highlighted as an example of Morocco's historic tolerance between the
     two faiths. Set in a modern villa, the museum's exhibits follow the 2,000-year-old history of
     Morocco's Jews. A number of rooms display various aspects of their traditions and daily life such
     as torahs, Hanukkah lamps, ketubofs (marriage contracts), and traditional clothing. There are also
     life-size replicas of the interior of a synagogue and a jeweler's workshop, referring to the Jews'
     historical dealings in silver. A photo library displays many of Morocco's ancient synagogues,
     cemeteries, holy sites, and various Mellahs and other Jewish landmarks within Morocco.

I finally found the place in a tucked away on a quiet street in a nice section of the city.  Two security guards sat out in front of the property.  If they weren't there, no one one ever even begin to guess what was behind the gate.  All the descriptions were in French!  I could figure out a lot of things, though English translations would've really helped!  I read ahead of time that a English-speaking guide could be had for 10 dirhams.  There was no one there when I entered, so I wandered around for a bit, then a woman appeared.  The way she was dressed told me that she was a cleaning lady first and foremost, which told me that very most likely wouldn't be an English-speaker.  She gave me a ticket and I gave her my 20 dirhams (about $2.35 USD) and continued on my way.  She pointed me toward a couple of rooms that were darkened in the other wing of the villa and turned on the lights to the rooms for me.  When I was done soon after she held out her hand - my "guide" expected 10 dirhams for her trouble.  Sigh...

     The other highlight of the week was a visit to a hammam, or a public steam bath.  Yup.  I did my homework and went to the local "hanout" buy for 10 dhs a "kiis" (pronounced with a long E sound), which is an exfoliating glove.  I got a travel size soap and shampoo, not opting to invest in the traditional "savon noir" (black soap, w/ black olive base) or "ghassoul" clay w/ Argan oil (remember the tree-climbing goats?)  I had remarkably found by chance the day before a pair of inexpensive plastic flip-flops that actually fit me!  This is no small achievement in this country.  Anyway, off to the bain turc...
     I went for the whole deal - "gommage", massage, "savonnage" (scrub, you know what, bath).
This wasn't your typical public bathhouse, cheaper but crowded.  Mine cost, w/ tip after, about $25 USD.  I locked up my gym bag and went into a stall to strip down to bathing trunks then into a shower stall to rinse myself.
     I was directed to the HOT room, which took my breath away when I stepped through the curtain.  OK, this is what a tropical forest with max humidity in summer is like.  After a few minutes in there I went into the (small letters) hot room and laid on a marble slab for the scrubbing.  WHOA!  I was told to expect a very vigorous treatment, but it still was an eye-opener, though by my definition, not painful.  I glowed red like a lobster afterward every single inch of my body gave up multiple layers of skin.  (And I paid for this).  In a public hammam, I would have returned the favor to whoever scrubbed me.  I rinsed and saw the remarkable amount of dead skin removed from my carcass.  Back to the HOT room.  Then to a massage room.  Then HOT room.  Then to hot room for soaping and rinse.  Back to HOT room for 5 minutes then shower stall then dressing stall.  I must say - I was way relaxed when all was said and done.  My colleague steered me right.
  Will I go again.  Perhaps.  Having a perfect (male) stranger with whom I couldn't even converse spend what had to be way over an hour working over every square centimeter of my person took a bit to get used to initially, but wasn't really a bother for me.  Spending my youth in locker rooms probably helped here.  A lot of my female colleagues aren't ecstatic about the idea of being topless (for certain) and bottomless (maybe) and having either a complete stranger, or worse, a friend give them the business.  Whatever.  I wanted the experience and I'm glad I did it.

  Now to plan for my trip to the Sahara Desert in April... 

No shoes, no shirt, no problems
Blues what blues? Hey, I forgot 'em
The sun and the sand and a drink in my hand with no bottom
No shoes, no shirt, no problems
Babe, lets get packed - tank tops and flip flops if u got 'em,
No shoes, no shirt, no problems
No problems...

"Forever And Ever, Amen"

You may think that I’m talking foolish
You've heard that I’m wild and I’m free...

  You know it, Randy Travis!  A week's vacation is here!  I know of a bunch of colleagues who are going about Spain, a couple that is going to Thailand, some buddies who are bouncing around Morocco and the list goes on.  Me?  (sheepish look)  I have no big plans this coming week, maybe a couple of day trips.  Casa has the only Jewish museum in the Arab world, and it's only open during business hours.  My roomie and I want to go to that.  A round of golf, perhaps.  Probably play things by ear, get some rest.  Last month has been crazy busy.  I'm getting old.

I'm no longer one of those guys...
They say time takes its toll on a body...
  Kid says to me about 1 pm today while I am doing lunch duty outside: "Race me".  I beg off, pointing out I'm not dressed appropriately.  Then I take off when he's not paying attention for a split second.  The mind is willing.  Another kid says to me in class about 2 pm: "Mister, are you crying"?  I raise my head, and say, no, it's just my back.  The body isn't willing. 
  At least I managed to get to, and through, a dentist appointment on Monday.  I'd kill for our school nurse and her assistant.  They get me drugs, make appointments for me, point me toward people and places.  I'd be in a world of trouble if it weren't for them.  Made it to, and through, a dentist appointment on Monday that was set up for me.  Wasn't easy to find.  Google maps didn't acknowledge the existance of the street and cabbies were no better.  I improvised a successful plan to get there, and got there early even.  Score one for the good guys.
  The dentist was a nice lady, and fortunately spoke pretty good English.  Would you believe she did the cleaning, and not a hygienist?  I later learned that in Morocco there is no such thing as a hygienist.  Only a dentist is permitted to handle instruments of the trade.  Next up is a trip to the lab to get a phlebotomy and some blood testing done.  Love the convenience of having a school doctor around who can write you a scrip when you need one.

They say time can play tricks on a memory
Make people forget things they knew
Well it's easy to see it's happenin to me...

  I've said it before, I'll say it again - when did I get old?  The first 3 years I worked at a NJ public high, in my late 20s, I was the youngest member of the 80-odd teachers.  I talk to some of these "kids" I work with and often make the mistake of looking back to when I was in their shoes and the world was my oyster and wishing to God that I could turn back the clock.  Where in the hell did the last decade go, and where do I go to get it back?!
  When I met with my boss earlier this week to discuss my thoughts on returning in the fall, my role, and the like, I found myself flashing back to some points in the last 6 months, when I didn't think I was going to make it, when I thought I was going to fall again.  I've felt a lot more comfortable of late.  I can look and envision a successful end to this year, and a better one next year.  I was asked to make a 2-year commitment when I was offered a job year, and I intend to honor that commitment.
  There is one thing that bothers me, though.  There is a nagging part of me that says I don't have another year to waste here, because I don't have that many years left.   There is a part of me that constantly haunts me that is convinced that I have far too many years behind of me than in front of me.  I wish I knew what is normal in terms of looking at your mortality.  I'm 44 now, well ahead of my statistical halfway point.  But 44 can't be old?  But 7-1/2 years ago I got way-too-close to death.  Am I living on borrowed time?  I don't want to even think about what lies ahead, or doesn't.

Just listen to how this song ends...
Forever and ever, amen