Leeds and Cyprus and Many Other Things

Life, Travel

Hi.

Basically, sorry.

I’m in Cyprus by the way, on holiday with Boyfriend, and though he has internet, I don’t, not having brought internet-friendly devices along with me for the ride. Silly me. So I am stealing his laptop for the purposes of this post, to let you know what’s been going on.

So I have a new pretty house in Leeds. Photos will follow. Basically it is big and high and nice and I like it. And it has a nice kitchen, so dinner at mine next year, I plan on re-living Fes to the maximum.

Then after Leeds I came to Cyprus, which is a lot of fun because I’ve never had a sun-sea-sand holiday before. I have chilled by the pool, and on the beach, and got burnt a lot. And then there have been active days as well which have included driving all through the mountains to see a monastery, and going on a jet-ski (Boyfriend drove, hence me still being alive), and going to a waterpark which was a new and exciting experience for me. Whoever thought of a theme-park but made of water is a genius in my books.

Boyfriend liked the bouncy-castle in the water best.

The only downside to all of this is that once again I have been bitten to death by mosquitoes, and it is ridiculously hot here so I haven’t slept due to night upon night of sweaty itching. Nice I know, but I am telling you all the details so that you can live my experiences as well. Kay?

Anyway, Boyfriend wants his laptop back, and is sat next to me criticising my use (or lack of use) of proper grammar, so I will have to end there.

Photos to follow I promise!

Life, Morocco

This will only be a short post, from my new phone. Last week my laptop charger broke and so I’ve not kept up. I’m now back in hectic England trying to get things sorted. My year in Fes is over but my blog is not. I hope you will keep reading! I’ll try to keep posting.

Defying Gravity

Morocco, Rant
Do you ever have one of those days where you spend too much time around people who don’t quite know you well enough to realise you’re going insane?

I had that day yesterday. I spent the whole day being smiley and nice and wonderful and helpful, and inside the sane part of me just kept getting more and more detached until off it floated to enjoy itself somewhere less weird. And I was left as just little old completely nuts me. I’ve mentioned this phenomenon before, the Sally-Mood, but it took off in earnest yesterday. I’m only lucky that the Boyfriend is who he is, because if he wasn’t he wouldn’t be.

Did you follow that?

Good. Basically I did a pretty good impression of someone who needs committing. Finally back down came my sanity, gave me a slap across the face and told me to grow up, which is what I’ve done. I can’t help thinking though, how nice it would be, next time, to fly off with my sanity and to leave my body to crazy itself to death, without me inside crazying away too.

But ah well. Can’t have everything.

Ring a ding ding

Life, Morocco
People who know me will know that I love rings. Jewelry generally is not my thing, and I actually wear the same 6 pieces of jewelry every single day. What is noticeable about that is that 4 of the 6 are rings. 1 toe and 3 fingers. I never had the guts to get my ears pierced, and so instead of getting into pretty earrings like most girls my age, I spent hours digging through my Nan’s and my Mum’s jewelry boxes finding all their pretty rings. At one point I wore enough to have one per finger, but I have managed to cut down.So, back to the point, I went to Casablanca yesterday. Avid readers will know that my adventures to Casa normally end badly (or begin badly and just continue that way). Thankfully yesterday I was going to meet a friend from work who’d said she’d show me around. I had a lovely day, saw a lot of the city, and to boot, bought a lovely ring, to replace my old one.

 

Pick and Mix

Life, Morocco
I’d say my lack of ability to keep this blog up now that I don’t have the glaring monotony of Fes at my window (which I miss, but let’s not pretend it’s exciting there) is a good indicator of things to come. I feel bad in a way, but then I think the same 10 people have read this all year, and I’ll be living with half of them next year, so it probably won’t be so relevant. Anyway, here’s what you’ve missed.

United Colours of Bennettonn. I know it has doubles somewhere. Not quite sure where. Anyway, they are doing it all wrong here in Rabat. They’ve got a lovely window display of mannequins wearing nothing but beige. And I know that if you mix up all the colours you get white according to science and brown according to everyone else, but that does not mean that you can call your shop ‘united colours’ and just have beige. It’s a poor show.

I am working on the new British Council Morocco website. It’s pretty good actually, learning about all the stuff they do and how they do it and all this stuff. And then to get to play with a web editor and put it all together is good times as well. Go ahead and visit it sometime in the next few days and check it out. And if it seems a little incomplete check back a few days afterwards because it probably means that mine hasn’t gone live yet. I’m still waiting for approval and permissions, because in real-life you have to do as you’re told (mostly).

Portico Quartet. Classy act if you ask me. I had the fun job of meeting them and looking after them last night when they played at the Jazz Au Chellah festival. It was good fun, because they not only play good music, but they’re nice guys as well. Everyone who came really enjoyed it and they got a good reception from the Moroccan crowd. I do suggest you check them out, because even though they are ‘jazz’ prepare to be surprised. Whatever you think it will be, I guarantee you, it’s not that. But it’s still good. Basically, check them out.

Old Man Time

Life, Morocco
Time is a funny old thing. No matter what science says, time does not keep to a regular pace. Some things feel like they take no time. Others, take forever. Things which have a set period of time allocated to them end up lasting too long. And others don’t last long enough.

I think the key is to use the time you’ve got well. To try and always be moving forwards, but always be happy. Every day is a new day to learn something new, or take on a new challenge, but every day is a part of your life and life is a long old thing for most of us. Some people say ‘Live each day as if it’s your last’, but if you do that, you spend so much time doing things that you miss out on time to yourself.

Time to yourself is my favourite variety of time. It’s a time to do whatever you want to, to be relaxed, with a smile on your face. Some people spend hours watching TV, or walking, or reading, or sleeping. And other people insist it’s a waste. But you can’t ever waste time, you can just use it in a way that is good for you, or in one that is bad for you.

Working 9 to 5

Life, Morocco, Work
I am not making any money from my internship, so the song stops there.What I am doing, is having new experiences and meeting people. This week has been full of that, meeting top Moroccan academics, and people in the world of international development, as well as an English scholar from Edinburgh (who I interviewed, get me) who is an expert in one of the fields of Middle Eastern Studies which interests me the most, Muslin-Christian relations.

Also I’ve done lots of typing.

So, I’ll continue this when my hands recover.

Derring-Do

Food, Morocco
Today I was eating my breakfast and new Rabat Auntie said she was going to the shops, so I asked if I could go (because I like getting out of the house and being a little active) and she said yes. I was about to go and change my shoes from flip-flops, and put something over my shoulders when she was all “get moving“.So I went out in a spaghetti strap top!

Nothing covering me up or anything. I felt so daring and exciting. It was probably quite sad. So as we were wandering round the shop I started realising supermarket things I’ll miss about Morocco when I leave.

1) Moufid Jiby chocolate milk. It costs 3Dhs, and I had it every day in Fes.
2) Pickled lemon. It’s just the best thing ever. I know I can get it in England, but it just won’t be as good.
3) Huge arrays of biscuits. I don’t ever buy them, but I don’t understand why shops in England don’t stock more biscuits. Morocco loves its biscuits.
4) Turkey substitutes for pork. I do miss pork, but the idea that I won’t be able to get ‘Ham-that’s-not-ham-that’s-actually-turkey-but-dyed-bright-pink’ any more is a little sad. My sandwiches will have much less character.

It all got me thinking as well, I need to work on my souvenirs. So far I have a Kaftan, a Jelaba, two plates made in Fes, some tea-glasses, a leather bag, two Moroccan purses, a scarf, and a pair of bright yellow slippers. I still need a tea-pot, and spices at the very least. Tomorrow I’ll ask Rabat Mum about it.

Enter the Mosquito

Life, Morocco, Rant
Something I had forgotten about Rabat. In the summer, it’s mosquito-ville. It’s a coastal city, though the part where I live is no-where near the beach, and so it’s much more humid here than in Fes. And that means mosquitoes.I am one of those unfortunate people who just looks tasty to the mosquito. As a consequence, for the last 3 nights I’ve not slept well at all. The night of the garden party I got bitten 17 times. I woke up with itching knuckles, because I’d been bitten 3 times on my hand. One of my fingers still won’t bend properly. Work on Thursday was a bit of a non-day so I had nothing to post about. The highlight was deciding  walk home. I ended up beating the tram. Clearly there had been a hold-up somewhere, but it was nice to know that I had been healthy rather than sat around waiting for half an hour.

Friday was another non-day. I enjoy working, and doing something productive, but I can’t pretend it’s thrilling. And the thing about Rabat is that, compared to Fes, it’s just a city. Sure, men still pay a little attention, but not much. And I was a bit depressed to see two people from the office (I think they were teachers) sitting on the roof and bitching about a third person. Now, fair enough, the third person was out of order. But I’ve always liked to think that life stops being ridiculously cliquey once you get to work, and people stop behaving like children. The third person in this little exchange did one silly thing. The first two then didn’t speak to me at all even though I was alone, and instead sat and bitched loudly enough for me to hear. I honestly wanted to tell them to grow up.

Then today I slept and slept, and itched and itched and slept. Beach is on the cards later. Should be fun. One can hope.