A World of Blue…

Posted on April 19, 2012 by Kristen

Dried paint...something I hadn't seen before in a Moroccan market

"Everything is BLUE here!"

Since we live right in the ancient Fes medina, my idea of a holiday most often doesn’t include visiting other medinas here in North Africa.  The cacophony of market vendors calling out the day’s carrot prices, the aroma of snails boiling in spicy broth, the traffic jams that occur when mixing humans and donkeys on cobbled alleyways, even the rubbish on the roads or swirling around in the air on a hot windy day… these are all things that endear this place to my family and I, that make it home to us.  And we love it, but certainly don’t need to vacation in it!

Chefchaouen, however, is an exception.  This fairly large town with a quaint little old city makes even us  full time medina-dwellers feel like we’re in a whole new world…and a world of blue no less!  The history of the town is long and filled with adventure but it was the Jewish occupants of the late 19th and early 20th centuries that began painting the town a light but brilliant shade of blue.  The sunlight catches the hue and the whole combination of cobblestone and terracotta-tiled roofs and overflowing flowerboxes and children waving outside of crooked little windows- it’s absolutely glorious!  And that’s just in the town itself… if you can pull your eyes off of the charming surroundings and look up, you’re in for a treat that rivals even the whimsy of the medina… Chefchaouen literally means “look at the peaks” and it almost comes as a surprise to see that the whole community is nestled in a valley surrounded by stunning, protective pinnacles which are breathtaking to gaze upon and exhilarating to hike, climb and trek through.

The town also has a reputation for being a place where the hash flows freely and though you can expect to be offered local weed, this is certainly not the defining characteristic of the community and a fabulously successful family holiday is entirely possible.  Shopkeepers seem a bit more laid back than they are in the bigger cities and there are a plethora of great little restaurants to enjoy.  The town’s location is lovely and for a Canadian who is accustomed to driving 16 hours across pancake-flat prairies just to get a change of scenery, the fact that a couple of hours’ drive from Chefchaouen can take you to either the Mediterranean Sea, the Atlantic Ocean or an ultra-chic clothing boutique in modern Rabat city is astounding! Yet another reason why Morocco simply must be one of the most geographically-diverse countries on earth!

Z exploring the market

typical street scene

 

 

All the charm and no trash! This is another one of Morocco's cleaner medinas

Some of Chefchaouen's famous peaks under a veil of mysterious cloud

 

Our little Arabian Princess exploring the unique accomodations at Casa Hassan riad

 

 

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Babies and Bottle Warmers

Posted on April 5, 2012 by Kristen

For those of you who track with this blog, you’ve likely noted about a three week absence of anything new… this is true and the reason being that we have something, or rather someONE very new in our family!  On March 12th I gave birth to our second son, our third child, and our second little peanut to be born here in Morocco.  Giving birth is a rather… riveting experience anywhere and doing it all in a second and third language in a culture you’re still trying to understand seems to up the intensity even further!  But, as they say here, lhamdullilah, praise God, everything went well and little ‘I’ is growing like a weed bringing a sparkle of joy to everyone around him.

In Moroccan culture, when a baby is born there are many traditional things that follow in those postpartum days… visitors galore coming to wish you well while expecting the traditional ‘tea party’ and fresh slloo, a lovely little celebratory treat made out of browned flour, honey, sesame seeds, crushed nuts, cinnamon and about a dozen other pinches and spoonfuls of this and that.  These visits are so different than what we see in Western culture where some women even post

Just an hour old... welcome to earth little one!

signs on their doors informing people of convenient hours to visit (and when to stay away too!)… not so here!  At anytime, anyone may come by to see the new baby and the haggard new mother.  Some people bring gifts… maybe more treats to serve to future guests or a little Asian-made outfit for the baby, emblazoned with random English words or expressions.  Some of the presents seem so strange to me… aerosol cans of less-than-lovely perfume, used bottle warmers from the early 1980s, ceramic serving trays… but it’s truly a situation where it’s the thoughtfulness of others that counts.  And some folks come empty-handed… wanting to just sit and eat and be thankful together with you for the new life.

This past December, a neighbour and good friend of mine gave birth to her first little boy after four beautiful girls.  The experience was grueling and as she recovered at home, the last thing I wanted to do was make a big formal visit and be a bother when she badly needed her rest, but I knew that my absence would tell her that I didn’t care about this huge event that had just transpired in her life.  We arrived and found that a group of well-wishers from another city had just left after spending the night on the arab-style

some well-wishers arriving on motorcycle... love that family transportation!coming home from the hospital... not yet 24 hours old. Women don't tend to hang around in the maternity wards too long :)

couches that wrapped the main sitting room and several others had been through earlier in the day.  Ever trying to understand my friends’ mindsets I asked her whether or not she liked having so many people around all the time… her precious bundle was asleep in another room under twice his weight in blankets while she herself looked like she hadn’t slept a wink in a fortnight, but she said the Arabic equivalent of, “Oh yes!  Those who love you will come…”  And who doesn’t want to be loved?!

I will admit that even after over 5 years in Africa, I am still learning to receive love, friendship and even hospitality in the way that those in my host culture give it.  Some days it’s tricky and I want to retreat into my private North American ways and let the world in on my time and at my convenience but what would be the adventure in that?!?

Some more friendly visitors... this was getting late in the day and we cheated with serving soda after several rounds of coffee!

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The Big Party…

Posted on April 5, 2012 by Kristen

All dolled up for the big event... most of my friends didn't recognize me! Finally I'm wearing makeup 'like I should'

We had always wanted to try it and given this would probably be our last child, it was also more than likely our last chance to host a big sbuwa party.  The Arabic word sbuwa gets its roots from the word usubuwa (week) which is related to sb’a(seven) and is the name of the ceremony where a new baby’s name is whispered into the ear of a sheep before it is slaughtered seven days after the birth of a child.  The meat is then often served at either a modest gathering of close family or a more elaborate party of friends and acquaintances.  We aren’t Muslims but wanted to share our joy over our new son’s birth with our Islamic friends and neighbours in a way that was both comfortable and meaningful to them… so, we decided to go for it!

Dar LBlghitit... a great traditional home for the party

We chose to wait until little “I” was almost two weeks old (these days the sbuwa often happens when the family is ready, not necessarily exactly 7 days postpartum) and got one of my husband’s good friends to help be the main event coordinator.  After checking into several rental homes with friends, we decided to go with a big traditional home just a five minute walk from our own house.  The owners were excited but a touch nervous to see what these Arabic-speaking Canadians were going to do on Sunday afternoon!  The DJ was hired to blast the typical Arab pop music and a feast of Moroccan salads and chicken tajines was prepared by caterers in a house down in the medina before being carted by hand through the narrow alleyways in gigantic cooking pots to the party location.  Tables were set with faux-gold trimmed dishes and our traditional party-garb was either purchased or rented for the big occasion.  Overflowing fruit trays lined one of the walls while another played host to silver serving platters piled high with coconut puffs enrobed in powdered-sugar, almond paste stuffed in paper-thin pastry horns, sesame seed biscotti and a chocolate-covered nut mixture cut into diamonds.

Servers carrying out the feast!

My friend who is studying esthetics had searched the internet for how to do makeup for non-Arabs and came over to give me the royal treatment beforehand.  Not being much of a connoisseur of cosmetics I thought an hour should be plenty of time to do makeup and hair but lo and behold we had hardly finished my eyes in that time!  All that to say that I was almost late to our own party but what a great surprise to walk in to a house full of about 150-170 well-wishing friends and neighbours ready for feasting and dancing!

The men serving came out with their fancy platters fit for a sultan and in no time people were dipping their fresh round khubz (bread) into the common dish at the center of each table.  After the main course and fruit dessert the dancing began and those who are more religiously moderate joined in to create a rainbow room full of colourful handmade qaftans, layered gowns covered with intricate embroidery and decoration reminiscent of medieval Arab royalty.  Others took turns passing around our 13 day old son and snapping photos with cameras or cell phones.  Most of these parties go late into the evening or even into the early morning hours come summer time when life only begins after the air has become tolerable after 9pm.  The owner of this particular house had an agreement with his neighbours to not host events late into the evening so at about 7pm after an afternoon of celebration, the DJ shut things down and it was the perfect timing for most people to have had a great time without slipping into that awkward “this-is-never-going-to-end” which can happen out here!  We were so thankful we had given it a go… what a meaningful memory for everyone!

Traditional djelaba outfit and "Fes Stitch"... embroidered blankets that have no 'wrong side'

 

Sleeping doll getting passed around for photos...

One man welcoming committeeTime to dance!

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Get Outta Town!

Posted on March 7, 2012 by Kristen

 

Spring has officially ‘sprung’ here in Morocco!  Finally the winter’s rains have soaked enough of the usually parched ground to paint the world around us brilliant shades of green with bold brushstrokes of orange, yellow and red as March’s dazzling array of wildflowers emerge from the earth.  This is one of our favourite times of the year to get out into the countryside and Moroccans too relish any opportunity to leave the city, throw down a picnic blanket, tie a rope swing onto the nearest olive tree and spend the day enjoying the outdoors.

Fridays and Sundays are the best afternoons to observe and join in this true cultural spectacle… What may seem to me like an empty suburban lot or place for future real estate development becomes a veritable Garden of Eden, polka-dotted with space-hungry urbanites who essentially move their lives outdoors for the day.  I remember our first Moroccan picnic with some neighbours… there was no such thing as ‘throwing a few sandwiches together’ and packing the Frisbee.  Nope, we were loaded up with butane gas tanks, pressure cookers, silver tea pots and tiny glass tea cups!  We took taxis to a town in the hills, found a space we were told was a park, cleared some of the rubbish away and while we women set out to spend the morning cooking, the children waded in a nearby stream collecting rocks and empty pop bottles while the men rested, conversed and periodically ran into town to fetch us one ingredient or another that we had forgotten for the traditional tajne stew that we were preparing.

Another favourite cultural experience for us is to join our local friends in going out to ‘their’ rural homes.  Most Moroccans, even if born in a particular city, will say that they are from another part of the country.  This could be where their parents, grandparents or people even further back in their lineage are from.  These places are usually not frequently visited as opportunities and means for travel are often sparse, but it’s an amazing privilege to journey into the countryside with a local friend whose ties to that ancestral land and the people there remain surprisingly strong even after potentially years of absence.

The disparity between urban and rural life here in North Africa is still incredible to me.  I can be sitting here in a modern cafe sipping a cappucino and within a half hour’s drive I could be dipping a chunk of heavy homemade khubz (bread) into olive oil in a rock and mud home that looks like it can’t have changed much in the past 500 years… save for the satellite television perched almost awkwardly in the corner!  If we get a chance to spend the night, we are usually serenaded to sleep by the lowing, mooing and braying of the family’s animals which likely still have their stable as a part of the house.

My children love to visit one particular ‘aunty’s’ village of origin where they can run like the wind that winds its way through these glorious hills and valleys… here they can spend the day climbing trees, playing with animals, digging in the warm earth or helping to harvest olives or broad beans.  It’s such a treat for us as guests to enjoy a visit as rich as this but life in rural Morocco continues to be challenging.  Illiteracy is still high nation-wide (especially with females) and many of these hamlets are so remote that even a primary school may be hard to access and anything past 4th or 6th grade may require boarding with a relative in a town several hours away.  As subsistence living becomes a thing of the past, many men choose to leave their wives and families to work and live in the cities.  These are difficult choices and they don’t come without significant impact or social and family structures. 

Life seems so beautiful, so idyllic, for those of us who get to breeze in and out of a sunny spring day in this pastoral paradise… but as it is anywhere in the world, there is more to most lives and lifestyles than meets the eye.  And on this day we choose to humbly accept gracious hospitality and give them not only presents of cake and jam and a new headscarf from the Big City, but  probably more importantly, the gift of listening to their stories, their struggles, their joys and their dreams.  Getting even a taste of what life might really be like for them will change us for certain and hopefully will help them feel heard, valued and cared for… and who doesn’t want that?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Play, play, play… no limits, no boundaries and no one to hit with that rock you just launched!

 

 

 

This is one of our favourite places to go just a half hour’s drive outside of Fes… Mt. Zalagh is dotted with rural homes, grazing animals and spectacular panoramic views of the city and surrounding countryside.

 

 

 

 

 

Donkeys are some of M’s favourite animals and they continue to be the most efficient way of doing many jobs in both rural and urban settings.

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Wild, Wonderful Weddings…

Posted on February 29, 2012 by Kristen

In every culture, people’s lives are filled with rites of passage… special events that mark the passing of the old and commencement of something new.  We don’t always realize the whys and wherefores of our own time markers but sometimes watching someone else do something very differently than the way we do it helps us to examine our methods while growing in our appreciation of diversity.

I think there are few things more fascinating to me than watching a wedding in another culture!  I was never the romantic child who was starry-eyed over becoming a bride one day but I find weddings very revealing of a culture’s values regarding not only marriage but hospitality, family and the essence of celebration in general.  Weddings in Morocco are no exception!  They are BIG events surrounded by more pomp and circumstance than any reality wedding show in North America could ever compare to!

  The majority of my friends here are married women whose unions were arranged to some degree or another by family members.  Most of them talk about approaching their wedding day with a mixture of excitement and a significant amount of fear of the unknown.  One friend shared about her future-husband and his clan visiting her family home to inquire about her availability… she remembers walking into the Arab-style salon as a beautiful girl in her late teens, eyes fastened securely to the tea tray that she carried with trembling hands as she made her rounds to each of the guests arranging her nuptials.  Nearly ten years later she is quite happy in her marriage… others I know haven’t had the same luck which is not unlike most cultures around the world.

Weddings are a huge expense to the family… there is usually a space that needs to be rented, multiple gowns and coordinating jewelry for the bride, musicians to be hired and a feast to be prepared for.  In the countryside weddings often happen in and around someone’s home… the rooms that surround the central courtyard will overflow with guests spilling outside into every available space in the vicinity.  In the cities there are often large, elaborately decorated halls which can be rented to include oriental carpets and traditionally-clad Arab guards with swords and Fes hats to welcome you.  Weddings in the Ancient Medinas are often celebrated in massive old homes that are either rented out by the residents or have become a party-hall type business.  There needs to be space and provisions for the masses as these are certainly not private affairs!

Just as these events are not exclusive, they are also not particularly time-sensitive either.  The family begins gathering at around lunchtime and will eventually move on towards the wedding place.  It’s a great sight to behold watching the fanfare of song and celebration as a family escorts a new bride-to-be to the wedding house or hall!  Traditional drums, two meter long trumpets and usually a crowd of excited females dressed in their best kaftans (customary party gowns) accompany the young lady.  The guests arrive over the next number of hours and depending on the family’s region of origin and degree of religious adherence there could be anything from men and women in separate areas of a house having their own simultaneous celebrations or traditional musicians with belly dancers!

While guests often dance or visit with one another (depending on your proximity to the nearest speaker), the bride and her ngafat (I think of them as “costume caretakers”) come in and out every hour or two showing off yet another spectacular outfit.  Popular festive sweets are passed around with steaming cups of mint tea… almond-stuffed crescents, coconut puffs covered in powdered sugar, rose-flavoured morsels, tiny chocolates and as many varieties of confectionery goodness as the family can afford.  It is usually quite late at night (or early in the morning) when the main meal is served… often two varieties of carefully prepared tajine (the traditional ‘stew’ of Morocco)… a dish with chickens and olives and another consisting of beef with prunes and almonds- scrumptious and well worth the wait!

Moroccans generally take great enjoyment in showing foreigners culturally unique aspects of their lives.  Celebrations, relationships and traditions infuse all of our lives with meaning and help give us a place of belonging and identitiy.  What an honour to be invited to partake in something so precious to someone!  And as different as some things may seem as we observe and participate, we see that really this is just another one of the world’s ways of helping two people start their life together…

A friend’s brother’s wedding… here the bride is wearing her green and gold outfit… above she is looking pretty in pink!  These outfit changes are so intriguing to a very ‘earthy’ prairie girl like myself!  I do try to play the part by borrowing appropriate attire from a friend or renting a kaftan from a shop somewhere.  Western dress isn’t really en vogue for women at these functions, though about 50% of men seem to be wearing some type of suit and tie number.

 

 

 

Catching up with old friends or not-often-seen family members while the traditional musicians set up.

 

 

 

 

 

These are some of the hired dancers who I’m certain were burning off about 100 calories a minute with the way they were shaking and swinging!  They were brought in from the northern part of Morocco as the bride’s family is from that area.

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Mmmm… Street Food

Posted on February 22, 2012 by Kristen

Food is important.  Around the globe people take great pains to prepare it, serve it and gather around it.  Traditional cultures everywhere often share food as a gesture of hospitality, relationship and invitation into their homes and hearts.  Sometimes meals are simple, a bowl of white rice or a dish of cooked maize meal dipped into salted field greens.  Here in North Africa, we are still officially in the ‘Developing World’ but thankfully, less and less of the population is having to live on the brink of starvation or survival.  Many people I know still live on about two dollars a day and I am always amazed to watch these thrifty women whip up healthy, flavour-filled meals for their families.

Moroccan cuisine is internationally renowned for its variety, its delicate seasonings and the care taken in presentation.  We have the regular privilege of enjoying some of the country’s best cooking in the homes of local friends, at weddings and circumcision parties, or occasionally in some of the nation’s fabulous restaurants.  But what has been almost most thrilling to us as both culinary adventurers and busy parents of small children is the joy of street food!

Within a ten minute walk of our home in the ancient Fes Medina we have a plethora of inexpensive and tasty options to fill hungry stomachs!  The market place is always filled with smoke as kabobs and homemade sausages sizzle, every variety of legume boils in its own savoury sauce, snails slow-cook in industrial-sized pots, spicy treats fry in vats of hot oil and men dish up Fes’s famous bisara… a pureed blend of beans and spices topped with olive oil and hot pepper flakes.  Also available to eat on location or take with you are little tajines, vegetable and meat stews that simmer on beds of coals in traditional clay dishes, or khubz, the culinary cornerstone of North Africa.  These hearty round flat breads are made fresh daily in most homes and are available in several sumptuous varieties on the street.  I am convinced that Moroccans are the world’s sandwich-making experts as they can turn almost anything into a sandwich… chunks of spicy meat, cream cheese, chickpeas, fried sardines, potatoes, eggs, even this yellow cake-like substance.  Whatever you can imagine stuffing into a pocket of bread, these folks have probably done it for centuries!

My five year old daughter loves to eat a warm bowl of harira soup at least once a week.  Sometimes one of us runs out to fetch it in a plastic bag and other times we get to have a special outing to her favourite hole-in-the-wall harira place where we share long benches with slightly more adventurous tourists and homeless people alike.  My son who is nearly three loves to gobble up the spicy saffron-coated mashed potatoes fried fresh while his sister digs into her tomatoey, chickpea filled bowl with a bent up spoon that usually looks ten times too big for her little mouth.

Sometimes living with our senses wide open to learning and understanding in a new culture can be uncomfortable, even difficult.  We see and hear things that make us sad or even fearful, we realize that justice and equality are still not values accepted worldwide, we ache with and for people whose upbringing has not been as loving or privileged as our own.  And other times, we get to just have fun and enjoy the diversity of sights, sounds, smells and tastes that this planet has to offer… so grab some khubz, dip in and enjoy!

A chicken tajine served with mounds of caramelized onions, french fries, a tomato and cucumber salad and little dishes of spicy olives.  Spoons are sometimes available for the salads but usually you just tear off a chunk of khubz bread and use that as your silverware… a fork never tasted so good!

M excited about a tajine of chicken and broad beans… extra special are the preserved lemons that go into some of the dishes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Z and his little friend are too hungry to wait for the pokey adults to gather around this piping hot dish of couscous!  Little bowls of the sauce are served alongside this carefully arranged dish so each person can flavour their own little section of the common dish.  Some very traditional women still use their hands to eat couscous but most Moroccans now use spoons to get the tiny little pasta pieces into their mouths… either way a good ‘ol mess usually surrounds the table after this meal which is often served for lunch on Friday after the noon prayers.

Categories: Moroccan Culture | Tags: , , , | 1 Comment

This CAN’T be Africa!

Posted on February 22, 2012 by Kristen

Morocco simply must be one of the most environmentally diverse little countries on earth…

When thinking about North Africa it isn’t difficult to conjure up images of shifting desert sands or vast olive groves clinging to the curvature of rolling hills green with winter rains… even swelling tides crashing down on pristine beaches or medieval cityscapes where donkeys and humans take turns yielding the cobblestone trails… these are mental pictures that most travelers, adventurers and dreamers are filled with when they think of exotic Morocco…

But snow-covered cedar forests?  Alpine villages that haven’t changed much at all in the last millennium?  Peaks so lofty and valleys so remote that they take your breath away?  Snowboards and skis?  Toboggans and sleds?  Probably not the first thing that came to my mind when we considered a move to Morocco!  But low and behold, here we are in the palm-filled city of Fes where within less than two hours we can be transported into an arctic wonderland!  As the urban jungle is replaced with vineyards and villages the homes, clothing and general way of life gets less modern and more traditional.  The kids eagerly press their noses to the glass as our little vehicle chugs up and up and up, sometimes not going a whole lot faster than the brightly clad Berber woman riding their little donkeys barely clopping along under the weight of water jugs and bushels of freshly-harvested produce.

It’s February in the Atlas Mountains of Morocco and the race is on- who will be the first to spot the snow!?  Just past the university town of Ifrane (fondly known as ‘Little Switzerland’) the white stuff is everywhere and the palm-lined boulevards we were on just an hour ago are a thing of the distant past.  Wait a second!  Was that a family of Barbary Apes swinging through the snow-laden coniferous forest?!  Not exactly something you see everyday!

Our destination is a place that looks like it may have once been a functioning ski hill, a little valley called Michlifin where locals have found a winter niche is making and renting out sleds or even skis and snowboards.  As Canadians and avid participants and promoters of winter sports we are tickled pink to discover old brand-name gear that we would have used in our youth!  “Where did they GET this stuff?”  Kevin muses with a smile while our kids hurl themselves headlong into a frosty pile on the parking lot.  There are loads of colourfully painted, homemade sleds everywhere… rough wooden crates pounded together, perching precariously on two sawed-off Rossignol skis that must have once taken enthusiasts down the French Alps just across the Mediterranean Sea.

Seeing our foreign faces, the ‘rental operator’ strikes a hard bargain, “20 Moroccan Dirhams for the day…”  Hmmm… that’s less than three Canadian dollars per person- we decide to take three.  How fun to slip and slide down the slopes, climb back up again with lungs full of fresh, cool air, laughter filling the little valley as we all realize what a treat this is.  But really… this just CAN’T be Africa!!  But it is and we are once again swept away in the beauty and diversity of this land, this country, this continent…

Sleds poised for rental

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

M ready to shoot down the hill!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the background you can see evidence that there was once a working lift taking people up to the top…

 

 

 

 

 

 

A would-have-once-been-beautiful resort overlooking the little valley.

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HospitaliTEA…

Posted on February 15, 2012 by Kristen

Our five year old daughter recently came home from school with a new word just bubbling up inside of her… hospitality.  I laughed as she informed me about what this meant… as if she was finally giving a name, a category to what their life here in Morocco is filled with every day!  I love how normal it is for my children to be guests and also to receive them into our own home daily, but sometimes it’s good to have visitors from North America, family or friends, come with ‘fresh eyes’ to experience what has become really quite ordinary to our little family.

Marhababikum!  Is a word most people will pick up while visiting this country for any amount of time, especially in areas where modernity has taken a back seat to the perpetuating of traditional values.  In the middle of the ancient medina of Fes, this “Welcome!” is most often a legitimate invitation to join someone else in their home or at a local cafe.  One of my family members visiting us recently from Canada marveled again at how that kind of authentic offer is just plain uncommon these days in the always-too-busy western world.  I have learned much from my local friends and neighbours about slowing down and making time to treasure these vital human interactions… I’ve also learned how to properly prepare, cook, host and give honour to those who come to our door!

Often the formality of the occasion and your relationship with the guest is what will dictate the degree of elaborateness in preparation for hosting… but almost without fail, a good visit will include a glass of famous Moroccan mint tea.  I have sipped ‘atay (tea) out of ornate glass tea cups in the villa gardens of wealthy Moroccans and enjoyed the same beverage from a chipped tumbler while sitting on the carpet-covered concrete floor of a neighbour’s more humble dwelling place.  My children love this sugar-loaded beverage and will often come away from a visit having put back two or three cups of the stuff!

Whether in a Moroccan home, at a wedding, camping in the desert, at a traditional carpet shop, sitting at a hole-in-the-wall venue or upscale cafe, tea making is an important part of daily life for most North Africans and each person does it slightly differently with results that are honestly still difficult for me to differentiate between!  Though fresh mint is the most common and famous flavour to add to the Chinese green tea (brought in by those caravan trading routes of old), there are many other herb options depending on the season and personal preference of the host.  Some folks will do an elaborate ceremony, pouring the steamy drink from decorated silver tea pots a meter or more above the glasses, others are more casual about the affair and focus more on getting the tea (and the little bit of caffeine!) into their bodies.  Most often the tea is cooked with sugar right in it but the increase of health education has made some people decide to leave the level of sweetness up to the individual consumer.

Whatever way it is served up, the important thing is to accept the cup as a gesture of hospitality and welcome… marhababikum!

tAnother cup of goodness under the stars before retreating to our traditional Berber tents… who’s loving it?!

Z waiting with eager anticipation for his cup to be cooled off

A more formal pouring

Tea and multiple kisses on the cheeks… quintessential elements of North African hospitality!

 

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Romping in the Ruins… Tunisian Style!

Posted on February 15, 2012 by Kristen

“ROOOAAARR!!” What was that?!

Oh, just our daughter M getting into the spirit of things at the Roman Colosseum at El Gem, Tunisia!  Though Kevin travels frequently to ancient Roman sites around North Africa, this was our first time visiting ruins of this magnitude as a family.  I was ‘forewarned’ that the very sight of the colosseum in the distance would be impressive but I was still unprepared for the grandeur of what remains of one of the biggest sporting arenas of the ancient Roman world in North Africa.

This unassuming little town is one of the last places on earth you’d expect to find this massive structure and it’s almost comical how relaxed the guides and people who work at and around the site are.  Comparing it to our visit to THE Colosseum (you know, the one that’s world famous) in Rome, Italy… well, it was like we had our own personal time in one of the best kept secrets in antiquity!  With no line ups to wait through we joined a handful of other tourists in paying our minimal entrance fee and walking right in to another era of Tunisian life.  As Kevin and I checked out the views and listened to our audio guide in English (technology that almost seems out of place in such an ‘African-paced’ town!) our children were giddy with the thrill of exploration and in this kid-friendly culture, they were free to climb and run and play lions and gladiators til their hearts’ content.  Could there be a better way to teach and appreciate history?

Another impressive site was the ruins of Carthage… breathtaking in its seaside location alone, the Roman roads, the elaborate remnants of ancient baths and the fact that artifacts are still being unearthed all the time… it all adds up to be a spectacular trip into a bygone era.  Some portions of this ancient city are well-developed and great strides have been taken by scholars around the world to preserve one of the Roman world’s most important and famous urban centers.  Other parts feel wild and overgrown and you find yourself treading lightly with adrenaline coursing through your veins as you wonder if YOU yourself might stumble (literally!) upon the next most-important-archaeological-find-ever!

“What’s over there?!”  The tunnels and hallways are like an adventure storybook world for children… and let’s be honest, adults too!

When’s the last time you’ve played in a pile of ancient stone cannon balls?!  Enjoying the site at Carthage

 

Kevin and M walking down a well-preserved portion of The Roman Road at Carthage… what would ancient life have been like on the edge of the turquoise Mediterranean Sea?

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The Unforgettable Sahara…

Posted on February 8, 2012 by Kristen

We’ve lived in Morocco for three years now and I think without doubt, our family’s favourite thing to do here is to take a trip down to the Sahara desert.  What a joy it is for each one of us to get into the car in the cool of the morning and begin our 7 hour journey south… from Barbary Ape sightings in the cedar forests near the village of Azrou, to the wind-swept plains of Midelt where our little Renault Kangoo starts to rev its engines for the slow climb up and over the spectacular Middle Atlas mountains before descending through river valleys laying like gigantic green gorges lush with date palms in the earth’s arid crust.  When we catch sight of those first golden Sahara dunes, all set ablaze by the late afternoon sun, we all cheer and a flood of excitement and awe overtakes the passengers in our tired little car as we bump along the volcanic rock trail for those last few kilometers before the kids fling themselves into the world’s largest sandbox and the adults have their breath taken away, again, at the sheer enormity and vastness of what I think is one of the earth’s true natural wonders.

The auberge is beautiful, perched literally on the edge of the dunes, it is built in the same style as the area’s traditional housing.  M and Z are so busy collecting dung beetles and rolling down the dunes that they only notice later that our friends who work there have poured them cups of sweet mint tea to go with freshly roasted peanuts.  After scarfing down their snack they’re back at their play and I’m eying the little swimming pool which looks heavenly after a day of hot dusty roads.

The camel trek out to the desert camp leaves in the late afternoon to avoid the heat of the day and we love the whole experience… from the hilarious lurching and jolting as the camel stands up under its load, to its skilled plodding on wide feet up and down the dunes… from a break to stretch our saddle-sore legs to watch the sunset paint the sand about a dozen different shades of glory, to the first glimpse of the traditional Berber camelhair tents nestled in an oasis valley of sand where we will be spending the night.  The cooks are ready to welcome us with snacks but again the kids are too busy dragging sleds and snowboards up the dunes to slide away into the dusk.  We laugh… it’s almost odd how unaware they are as to what their father and I used to do with sleds and snowboards when we were their age living in Canada!  Right now, even with the desert air quickly chilling off as the moon takes the sun’s place for the night, I would rather be using these arctic apparatuses on the sand than the snow!

A traditional supper is served and the staff encourage the caravaners to join them in playing their traditional instruments under the stars and candle light.  As we fall asleep in our tents it’s hard to imagine the urban craziness we were just in that morning.  The air is cool and fresh and the only thing that penetrates the silence is the occasional snort of the camels outside the camp.  It’s difficult NOT to fall asleep with a smile on your face… what a trip!

 

M leaning on her favourite friend in the early morning light

Arriving at the auberge… “this way to the sand little brother!”

“Daddy!  Come see what I discovered!”  Talk about a whole new world…

 

 

 

 

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