Happy Birthday!

This year I happen to share a birthday with the Prophet Mohamed. The Islamic calendar is based on the lunar calendar, so the dates of their holy days shifts in relation to the Gregorian calendar. Anyways, this year we have the same birthday! We had the morning off from school so we could celebrate with our families. Hoda told us we would probably have a big breakfast and then go out visiting with our host families – she warned us to be prepared for lots of tea and cookies. Holidays are also when host families take an opportunity to dress their volunteers in traditional dress.

Imagine my surprise and mild disappointment when today was a regular day in my host home. We ate a normal breakfast and then I went down to the fields with two of my host sisters for a couple hours. We gathered brush for the fire from the edge of the river bed and then went to the fields to harvest what I think was alfalfa for the sheep. We also “chopped” up a couple saplings that had been drying and piled them into their sacks. I don't know how heavy the were by the time we were done, but they looked heavy and both women strapped them onto their backs and headed home. We even took the scenic route back, which must not have been comfortable with their heavy loads. Apparently, our village doesn't celebrate Ait Mulud the way the rest of Morocco does.

We were at school late today because we got caught up in a project and it was starting to get dark when we left. Women aren't really supposed to be out after dark by themselves, so two of the school family's boys walked me home. They are probably 7 to 12 years old and they took their job very seriously...walking a few steps ahead of me, but looking back regularly to make sure I was still there. Mind you I have a 5 minute walk home, so it was endearing to see how well they took care of me. They even said something to a couple of the village kids who usually ask me for stilos (pens) on my way to and from school. They didn't ask me for anything tonight.

I took my cell phone to school today so I could charge it up for the phone calls I was hoping to receive. I, of course, forgot it at school and had to go back to get it. I was having a hard time explaining this to my host mother, and finally just told her I wanted to go see Hoda. All I have to do is mention Hoda and everyone smiles. She is well-liked and respected in our community.

I felt silly because I'd just been escorted home and now I was walking back to school alone! I made it there and almost home uneventfully, until I was one house away from mine. An older woman I think I've met in the village before stopped and started talking to me. She was pointing to her features and telling me the Tamazight words eyes, mouth, etc. I joined the game by pointing to a few more and giving her the words I knew. What I thought was an innocent game soon turned interesting when she grabbed my chest – literally one in each hand – and gave me the Tamazight version of boob! Its l-bush. I was so surprised I couldn't help but laughing and I told her I had to get home before she could teach me anything else.

Birthdays aren't really celebrated in Morocco – mainly because many people don't know the exact date they were born and records aren't kept like they are in the states. I didn't tell my host family because I don't know how to tell them in Tamazight and I didn't want them to feel obligated to do something for me. I had mentioned it to my CBT group earlier in the week, but they didn't remember it, so I had a very uneventful birthday. All those calls I was expecting – I only received one call from my Mom!! I was very happy to hear from her! It was about 830pm and she thought she might be waking me up, but we hadn't even eaten dinner yet. We usually eat around 9 or 930 and then go almost straight to sleep.