Swimming in the Sea

Like any border town, Ouijda and the surrounding areas are full of contraband goods from the neighboring country(in this case Algeria), and people flock here to shop due to the cheaper prices. We stayed with Samira's mother and father-in-law in their family's house in Ouijda. It is not the best city, but it had its highlights. Almost all the cars I saw on the street had French, Spanish, or Dutch license plates. This is the case in most cities in Morocco during the summer, but it seemed especially true here. All the Moroccans living abroad drive down through Europe to spend their summers here(I would too if I could). But there is a certain air about these European Moroccans. They don't quite fit in with the locals with their Western style clothes and they are usually always speaking in French. We met a lady on the train whose daughter didn't really speak Arabic at all, only French. I haven't really heard any one openly say any thing about this sub-group but I get the feeling they are slightly resented.
We drove up into the Beni Snassen mountains to a community outside the village of Tafogault. The community is called Zoweeya and it is hidden in hills covered in pine and wild herbs (which the locals harvest for their medicinal properties). We arrived the day before the Moussem of Ibn Saeed. A moussem is basically what I would describe as a pilgrimage to the grave of a respected Muslim man. I want to say it is like the equivalent of a saint...but it is different. Its a shaky gray area since Islam forbids the worship of any one/thing other than Allah. People come from all around and camp in the hills or stay with friends and family and the men spend all night in the mosque listening to Qur'an recitation. I was disappointed that women were not aloud to attend this. Then the next day, Friday, all the households of Zoweeya prepare vast amounts of traditional Friday cous-cous to feed the foreigners. It is really quite a production, with everyone emerging from their homes with huge clay dishes full of cous-cous and hauling them to the middle of the town where all the hungry visitors await their free meal. There were hundreds of people sprawled under olive trees and even on the dirt enjoying stuffing themselves on the delicious feast. It was really amazing to see such a communal effort to feed all the pilgrims. I took a few pictures despite the sign telling me not to (I was encourage to, alright?) but they didn't really turn out.
And the family I stayed with was so fantastic! They fed and housed not only us, but about 50 people for those two nights. The Moroccan hospitality is nothing like I have ever experienced. The ladies of the housed cooked and cooked and cleaned and cleaned for those two days, and still managed to be smiling and pleasant the entire time. All the women slept and ate together, and all the men. There was no mixing of the sexes in Zoweeya. Although we were all staying in the same house, I rarely saw any of the men. At tea-time, we sat on separate ends of the courtyard and chatted and gossiped respectively. I felt like I was in a different time...it was great. When it was time to leave, I was sad to go, and received many invitations to stay and also to return when ever I like.
A couple days after we returned to Ouijda, Fatima Zahra and I took a bus to Saidia, a popular summer spot amongst Moroccans on the Mediterranean Sea. I couldn't stop saying to her, "I can't believe I'm swimming in the Mediterranean!" It was so beautiful and the weather was perfect and I wanted to stay there and never leave. We spent the entire day on the beach under an umbrella we rented for about 1.5 dollars. We ate shawarma and fig cookies for lunch, then lounged about until we left on the 6:00 bus.
Now I'm back in Fes and preparing for a busy week ahead. We have a circumcision party or Saturday, a wedding on Sunday, a breakfast for a new baby on Monday and the same baby's party Wednesday night. Fatima bought a sheep for her niece's son's circumcision party...and I can hear it bleating in the garden as I type. Poor little guy. I don't think I'll be eating any mutton at the party...

*Peace and Love*



the couscous