In the morning, as the morning’s first light can be seen, the muezzin calls:
God is great! God is great! God is great! God is great!
I bear witness that there is no god except the One God
I bear witness that there is no god except the One God
I bear witness that Muhammad is the messenger of God
I bear witness that Muhammad is the messenger of God
Hurry to the prayer, hurry to the prayer
Hurry to success, hurry to success
Prayer is better than sleep, prayer is better than sleep
God is great! God is great!
There is no god except the One God
The muezzin always wakes me, here in Marrakech. Most of the time, I fall asleep again before the end of the first lines, but sometimes I listen to the whole call. If I wait long enough, I can hear the quick shuffling and muted prayers of my host-mother, Fatima, in the other room. At seven, I get myself up, clean, and dress for the day. My host-brother, Mourad, will usually join me for breakfast, either at the apartment or at a cafe in the French Quarter.
Since Mourad works in the French Quarter, he and I leave from home together. In the mornings we take the Grand taxi from Messourat Farkuz to the main square of the French Quarter, which is only a five minute walk from the Center for Language and Culture (CLC), where my classes are. The Grand taxis are something between you’re normal New York taxi and a bus; they’re the same size as a taxi, but they only run back and forth along a specific route. It’s only a dirham more than the bus, but you have to be prepared for two people crammed into the front seat and four crammed into the back. Seat belts are out of the question. The first time I rode in a Grand taxi, we fit five people into the back seat by having one woman sit on her friend’s lap while a man from the street had to slam the door shut, jamming the handle into my hip.
Mornings at the CLC are a 9 to 12 derijja class, punctuated by a tea and msemen break at 10:20 (Pauls, our trip leader, described msemen best as “a crepe on steroids”). Abdelkebir, our teacher, is a tall, slight man with thinning grey hair who speaks to us only in derijja. In the first week alone we’ve covered counting, the days of the week, common adjectives, and a few common exchanges that we’ll have, such as with a waiter or with a taxi driver. About Abdelkebir, I know that he likes American movies with Al Pacino and Brad Pitt in them, and that he doesn’t like soda because it makes his stomach feel weird.
After class, as the sun reaches its zenith in the sky, the muezzin calls:
God is great! God is great! God is great! God is great!
I bear witness that there is no god except the One God
I bear witness that there is no god except the One God
I bear witness that Muhammad is the messenger of God
I bear witness that Muhammad is the messenger of God
Hurry to the prayer, hurry to the prayer
Hurry to success, hurry to success
God is great! God is great!
There is no god except the One God
Lunch is either made for us at the CLC by Mama Khadija or at one of the cafes near the CLC. I look forward most to the CLC lunches because Mama Khadija makes some of the best food I’ve ever tasted. On the first day, she served us roast chicken with a lemon sauce, and on the second day she made us a lamb and date tagine. It’s wonderful to sit around the table with all of my classmates and practice our derijja together (“Kuli! Kuli! Kuli!” “La, la, la-” “Kuli!” “Baraka, safi! Safi! Alhamdilillah!”). Lunch at the cafes are an equally great chance to practice our derijja with the waiters.
After a two hour lunch period, we usually have an afternoon lecture on some aspect of Moroccan culture. Our first lecture was with Professor Mohamed Soudani and on what he described as the “Moroccan Mosaic.” What he meant is that Morocco is not one single culture, but a patchwork of various Azamigh groups influenced by city-based cultures. For instance, he pointed out that even the way derijja is spoken is different in the South of the country versus the North. Combine this with the presence of the Azamigh language, along with distinct French and Andalusian influences, and it is impossible to define a common language, let alone a culture. Soudani describes himself as a “trouble-maker” and is one of the founders of the current majority party, which just took power in the most recent election (“The Prime Minister used to be my student,” he proudly told us).
After the afternoon lecture, I meet up with Mourad or Ryan (or both) and go to a cafe. Ryan first showed me the wonder that is qahwa nous nous, half coffee, half milk. The coffee culture here is very different than in America; I’ve never seen anyone walking here with a cup of coffee in their hand. You order your drink, it comes, and you sit and drink it at the cafe.
While drinking nous nous at the cafe, when my cup’s shadow is as tall as it is, the muezzin calls:
God is great! God is great! God is great! God is great!
I bear witness that there is no god except the One God
I bear witness that there is no god except the One God
I bear witness that Muhammad is the messenger of God
I bear witness that Muhammad is the messenger of God
Hurry to the prayer, hurry to the prayer
Hurry to success, hurry to success
God is great! God is great!
There is no god except the One God
Evenings are spent relaxing, usually back in Messoura near the apartment, or in the apartment itself. From the French Quarter, it is easiest to take either the 5, 8, or 10 bus line for only four dirham. Especially around five or six, the buses are packed with people trying to get home, and I spent my first bus ride alone pressed up against a Marrakchi with a mustache that could make Stalin jealous. Mourad taught me to watch out the left side of the bus for the coca-cola factory, then wait for the round-about right after it, then get off at the second stop after the round-about. From there, I know to walk down the main road until I find the bank, and then I take a left, then the first right, and walk down the street to the end of the block.
The best evening I’ve spent so far was at Cafe Ice, where I sat with Mourad and several of his friends and watched Real Madrid play Atheltico Madrid. Mourad told me that the entire city was probably out to watch the football game, and it certainly seemed like it as we passed several packed cafes. This was the first time I ordered on my own, and I drank a pot mint tea and two glasses of water. Marrakchi have mint tea at every point of the day, usually as way to clear your palette after a meal. Everyone knows how to prepare it, and everyone knows how to pour it, usually a few feet above the tiny cup that you drink it out of. I need to ask Mourad how to make it so that I can have it when I get back to America.
While I’m still in the cafes, as the sun begins to set, the muezzin calls:
God is great! God is great! God is great! God is great!
I bear witness that there is no god except the One God
I bear witness that there is no god except the One God
I bear witness that Muhammad is the messenger of God
I bear witness that Muhammad is the messenger of God
Hurry to the prayer, hurry to the prayer
Hurry to success, hurry to success
God is great! God is great!
There is no god except the One God
Dinner is always very late in the day here, usually at nine or ten. Most of the time, I’ve noticed, it’s a very small meal, a bowl of soup or a salad. On my first night with Mourad, however, he took me to his friend Said’s house, and Said made us a delicious chicken and vegetable tagine with about six loaves of bread between five of us. That night, I thought I was going to throw-up because I had eaten so much, especially because of the amount of bread I had. Bread is served at every meal here, and most of the time you use bread to eat your food, not flatware. It’s incredible to me that Mourad is so skinny, but I suppose he walks everywhere during the day.
After dinner, I’ll talk with Mourad for a little bit before starting to get ready for bed. I get up early in the morning, so I always try to get a good night’s sleep. As the light disappears entirely, the muezzin calls one last time:
God is great! God is great! God is great! God is great!
I bear witness that there is no god except the One God
I bear witness that there is no god except the One God
I bear witness that Muhammad is the messenger of God
I bear witness that Muhammad is the messenger of God
Hurry to the prayer, hurry to the prayer
Hurry to success, hurry to success
God is great! God is great!
There is no god except the One God
By the time he is done, I am in bed and ready to sleep.