Blog #8 Friday Lunch with Host Families
The traditional lunch on Fridays in Morocco is couscous followed by a small class of butter milk for digestion (saykouk)
Traveling takes a lot out of you, but the fatigue is well worth it if you remember to live in the moment and to appreciate all that there is to explore in a new city. Our schedule is packed with events, lectures, language lessons, meetings, and site visits, and our brains are overflowing with new knowledge and cultural experiences. We have a considerable amount of information and training to get through in a short amount of time, but I am enjoying every moment of it.
Today we started with a Darija lesson by Noura, our trusty guide throughout this project. She is brilliant and has been our go-to girl for anything/everything we need, and she is an excellent teacher. She patiently taught us the basics of Darija: how are you, what is your name, where are you from, etc. After a break of coffee and tea and melon and sweets, Tara began her lecture on ethnographic methods and the household livelihood security approach to anthropology. Tara incorporated information from her experience in Mali and Morocco, and we used her lesson as a lens through which to view argan oil cooperatives. We discussed issues of gender, economics, politics, and social structures that affect women in the collectives, and addressed the communities of practice that we will be interacting with in Sidi-Ifni. We discussed how women are the symbol of the homeland, as they stay in the villages while the men often leave for employment in cities elsewhere. We talked about the management of money, who controls the access and distribution of capital, and who is responsible for the accounting. Who is the most vulnerable in the population? Who is left out, and who is included? What are the structural inequalities that women face, and how are land tenure systems practiced or addressed?
More delicious Moroccan tea
Around 12 (maybe 1?) pm Jamila announced that our host families had arrived to take us to lunch. We were all a little nervous, as we had just received our first lesson in Darija and weren’t feeling confident in our speaking abilities just yet. We were being thrown out of the nest without our speaking partners for the first time. As we descended the stairs, a smiling Hocin in a blue (keswa?) traditional Muslim dress with light blue slippers was there to greet us. He whisked us into a copper-colored taxi and we sped away. We chatted with Hocin in the cab in French and English, and he seemed excited to get home to his family and to share a bit of his world with us. We approached his home in a neighborhood with streets overflowing with fresh vegetables and fruits and he led us up the stairs to a very welcoming and warm embrace.
Hocin’s wife Imane and her sister Wided greeted us with joy, laughing and smiling at our clumsy attempts at Darija while assuring us in English and Darija that we were doing a great job (mezzyan!). Hocin’s friend Ayou was also there to welcome us. He is an English teacher and cultural community leader. Imane is getting her PhD in math and economics, and Hocin is a professor of business and economics; they are both incredibly kind with huge hearts. Wided and I chatted in French about her schooling and successful project packaging amlou and almond oil. Malika, the majestic matriarch and queen of the family was busy preparing the meal for us as we sat on a large ornate couch chatting about our lives back home and our work here in Morocco. Maram (goal) and Karam (generosity), ages 3 and 6, scrambled around the living room playing with the play-dough we brought; generally being the cutest kids I’ve ever seen. As Karam used my field notebook to doodle in, Yoel and I learned all about this delightful family and their many accomplishments and goals for the future. Hocin and Ayou pardoned themselves to pray, and shortly after they returned home it was time for lunch.
Jessica and Yoel with their host family for Friday lunch
Malika proudly entered the room yielding the most beautifully prepared tower of couscous in a clay bowl (pictured at the top of the blog). With the neighbors joining us, we sat around the table and prepared to dig in. They taught us how to use our right hand to scoop the couscous, vegetables, and meat out of the dish and to swirl our hand to make a couscous ball. The couscous was piping hot (I burned my hand), the vegetables were perfectly cooked, and the meat was tender. I made quite the mess, but no one seemed to mind. Hocin invited us to try the couscous in a bowl with a splash of buttermilk (saykouk), which was very pleasant.
After the bowl was empty and everyone was satiated, we happily settled back into the couch with full stomachs and relieved sighs of comfort. We chatted for a few hours while our food digested, and Malika presented us with a traditional Moroccan tea ceremony (see above) and fried dough rings (below, similar to large beignets). The beignets were accompanied by cream cheese and homemade jam; it was seriously delicious (I’m definitely leaving Morocco weighing 5-10 extra pounds). Before saying our goodbyes with bises-bises and hugs, Imane and Hocin sprayed lovely perfume and cologne on Yoel and I. We hailed a cab and made our way back to the hotel with the sweet aroma of our hosts’ fragrances lingering on our clothing and filling our nostrils. I am eternally grateful to the family for inviting us into their home, treating us like kin, and for sharing a part of their cultural heritage with us.
Fried dough rings (similar to large beignets) for desert
At 7pm I headed back to the office to have dinner that the talented chefs at Dar Si Hmad prepared for us: pasta salad with chicken, corn, and tomatoes and a borscht that was bright and light, just what we needed after such a large feast earlier. We sat on the rooftop listening to the seagulls and recounting our experiences of the day.
As I write this the sun is setting and I am ready to settle into bed. Tomorrow is a new day that will surely be filled with exciting new experiences and so much more to learn!
-Written by Jessica Vinson
