Jay'd

There is a difference between bat-haa, and bot-haa, and bot-kha, and bot-khaa, but you can't teach it, you learn it.  My family speaks in dareeja and I'm learning fose-ha, and I am called cambool for it because it is useless, the equivalent of learning how to speak like Shakespeare writes.  We are rawad (teasing), and I call them cambool, batos, inta inta, they say inta cambool!  I say ana la cambool, and ana maliq Texas and ana maliq Morocco.  Driss says ana Barack.

We go to the roof and steal wifi and look at Fez some more.  This is the everyday for them, but I can't get enough, gluttoning the sight.  I try to count to 10 with Lotfi.  Sefr, wahate... Lotfi laughs hard.  What?  That is bad word, he tells me.  I laugh, too. What is that?  He says like an (f-word).  I laugh hard, too.  Hawate. 1.  Inthana, talatha, arrba, khamsa, sebbah, settah, thamanya, uh.... Tessah. Tessah!  Na'am.  Tessah, ashala.  Lotfi applauds me between smoked puffs.  He says kahlwa, coffee.  But I say khaluwa, and he laughs again.  What now?  He says balls.  I laugh and he says it is an insult we say, he looks like khaluwa jamel.  He looks like camel's balls.  His cousin laughs too because he knows every French, English, Dareeja, and Fose-ha cuss word.

Hamza goes back downstairs and I tell Lotfi about family life in amricee.  We don't eat together like here, but we play cards and watch TV.  He says that Americans are selfish with their family, that if we thought about what we owed our mother and father, the cost, the pain, the lack of sleep, the sick when you are sick, that we would take care of our parents and not cut ties when 18.  I tell him there is smart from books, knowledge, and there is smart of life, wisdom.  You are wise, Lotfi, and he says wuh inta.

Picking up a panini at 10pm looks like 2am in Texas.  Yellow street light and a bodega where we wait 40 minutes for a pie.  He says they don't like when you wait here.  2 young boys kick a soccer ball up the high grade street ramp we are on, and they see people they know.  Neighbors, djaruh, they know each other.  He says he worries about America because if you don't show up for a week, no one is the wiser, but here he would get texts, phone calls asking where they are.  Checking up.  I tell him I know many people like that, but that I will keep in touch.  I trust you, he says.

View from Above

This is my roof's view.  To be compared to:

(not my picture)

Medina Series 4

Bread-makin'

The tanneries.

The white ones are pigeon poop

Yellow is Saffron.  It's all hand-done so it's more expensive

They say this is the third hardest job in the world.  You work in these things in the sun all day, no food or water.

This stairwell is an optical illusion.  You actually walk on the bottom of the picture.  This was to confuse invaders.  Looking around corners they thought they would have to go upstairs when it's really a flat surface.

Similar effect

The river beneath the flowing through the Medina

A local sharpening a knife on an old tool

The university.  We weren't allowed in but got pictures

These next three are semi-panoramic

Medina Series 3

There are over 9000 streets in the Medina, just like this.  It's almost claustrophobic

Political posters.  Better than advertisements, eh?

The horseshoe thing is a guard for the evil eye, the higher knocker is for horse-riding visitors, and the other is for regular guests.  These doors are so old.

A young school.  Mickey's everywhere!

The only fountain with carved cedar wood, the Islamic arch, and marble.

A prayer house for any religion

Another ornate roof

A local