Summer Summer Summer

Summer in Southern Morocco means a lot of things.  Not one of those things, however, is work.  It means long boring days, it means talking about the heat with the neighborhood women, it means trying to stay cool by wearing soaking wet clothes, it means an overflowing toilet……….ok maybe I am getting a head of myself here.

The highlight of summer in Morocco this year for me was a visit by my dear friend Tara.  It was such a highlight, that I will blog about it separately.

Some summer events and happenings:

• Going to bathe, and discovering that my tap water is almost boiling.  Not bathing.  Going back at try again after dark, when the water has cooled off.
• Unsuccessfully trying to fall asleep in the heat.  Soaking my clothes in cold water and hoping I fall asleep before they dry.
• Going to souk at 6:30am in order to beat the heat.  Getting caught up in running errands, delaying my return.  Walking back up my mountain in the 10am heat, soaked in sweat.
• Excitedly checking my email to get updates from Steph, Megan, and Lissa on their weddin preparations! 
• Walking slowly to my host family’s in the afternoon, trying not to break a sweat.  Drinking tea and watching Arabic music videos with my host sister.
• Staying up WAY too late, trying to take advantage of the cool weather after 10pm.
• Teaching French to the Women’s Center girls starting at 6pm when the sun starts to think about maybe going down.  My house smelling a lot like sweat after they leave.
• Perfecting the art of iced coffee.
• Drinking the perfect iced coffee in the morning as I check email and see if Steph or Kristin have updated their blogs.  I love pictures of little Layla!
• Heading home the second I hear the Maghrib prayer call (indicating the sun is going down).  Don’t want to be caught outside when all the bugs and dogs and wild boars are around!

 

Last week, however, I had an event a little out of the ordinary.  As my most recent visitors can tell you, my toilet has not been, lets say functioning, as it should.  Having heard horror stories from other volunteers about toilet pits being drained in town, I was avoiding calling my landlord until it became absolutely necessary.

 

Finally on Thursday, I called and told my landlord, that “illa lmushkil d bitlma.  Ur i3dl.  Ur sngh ma tiyagn.” (There is a problem with my toilet.  It doesn’t work.  I don’t know what is ailing it).  He told me he would come check it out the next day.

 

So Friday afternoon he did some tinkering (smelly tinkering!) and told me that the pit is full.  Now, these pits last around 7 years, so I felt VERY unlucky to be here for the 7^th and final year of this pit’s capacity.  So, he told me, he would return the next day with a worker and they would dig a new pit.  Oh, and by the way, he told me I would have to provide tea and lunch for them.  And none of that crazy American food I eat.  Real Moroccan food.

 

Now, after my landlord left I was very concerned.  And really, I’m not sure if I was more concerned about the whole digging of pits process, or the fact that I had absolutely no food in my house, and no time to get food to make a Moroccan meal.  Literally, I had 2 carrots and half a cucumber.  So I headed to my host family’s to ask what to do.  My host mom offered vegetables, but didn’t have any meat.  She suggested I get up super early to go to souk the next morning and come back with food to make a Moroccan meal.  And they would even come over and help me if I couldn’t.

 

So Saturday morning I went to souk at 6:30am, and bought lots of vegetables and chicken for this Moroccan tagine.  Oh, and sugar, because Moroccans generally like LOTS of sugar in their tea, and I was worried I didn’t have enough.  By the time I got back to my house, the worker and my landlord were chilling in the shade.  Apparently the pit WASN’T full. (HAMDULLILAH).  It was just clogged.  When I travel for weeks at a time, and no water goes down the toilet, it becomes a problem.  BUT, a problem I can fix.  So I happily made them some sweet Moroccan tea, and they left on their merry ways.  But then I had all this chicken.  So I brought the chicken to my host family’s and we had a good laugh over my toilet story.

 

Needless to say, I now have a fully-functioning toilet, without the public embarrassment!