Dinner Time

I get home from school between 6 and 7pm and the family has tea. This usually includes drinking at least two cups of tea, sometimes three and eating bread with either olive oil, honey, or jam. Sometimes we eat a mini-dinner or something sweet like crepes instead of bread. Around 8:30 or 9pm we have more tea and then eat dinner. Dinner is a communal meal with everyone sitting around a small table on the floor. Most meals are eaten with your hands although some require a utensil. Typical dishes in my house include:

l Couscous with the green figs (ikoran), or sometimes there are lots of vegetables on top. My family mashes some vegetables and couscous together and then rolls it into little balls that they pop into their mouths. I have yet to master this skill, so thankfully, they give me a spoon to eat with.
l Tagines which consist of meat and vegetables (usually carrots, potatoes, fava beans, turnips and sometimes peas) and are eaten using bread to scoop up the vegetables. The meat is saved until the end of the meal and divided among those eating the meal. This is a great tradition for me, the vegetarian, because I can eat the veggies without worrying about the meat. My family still offers it to me, but they seem to be over the initial shock that I don't eat it.
l Sharia is like spaghetti, but the noodles are shorter. We eat a seemingly huge bowl, but by the end of the meal it is usually gone and I never feel grossly full. It is boiled noodles with either melted butter or drizzled with olive oil. My host mom likes olive oil and always adds more, usually to the chagrin of my host sister Mina.
l I don't know if it has a name, but we also eat rice prepared just like the sharia. They are both very comforting meals.

My host family eats fruit for dessert after dinner each night. For the past couple weeks, we usually split two oranges between the six of us. The first night I was there, they cut the un-peeled oranges into quarters. Every member of my family expertly removed the peel and ate their section of orange with ease. I made an absolute mess of myself with orange juice dripping down my chin and all over my hands and lap. I couldn't help but laugh and was quickly handed the fota (kitchen towel used as a communal napkin) to clean up with. Since then, my host dad (he's in charge of cutting the oranges) either peels the whole orange and breaks up the sections or, if he simply quarters the orange, he peels my quarter before handing it to me. It is quite endearing because he is a bit intimidating, but I think it is his way of looking after me.