I've been meaning to write about the aspects of Islam I have casually seen in Morocco (particularly my host family) for some time now. The beginning of Ramadan seems like an appropriate time to get around to it.
One of the earlier Arabic words we learned was “Hambdullah,” which means “Thanks be to God.” Hearing it, and hearing that “this is what people say to each other, all the time, in response to how they're doing” my first reaction was to think “well, it is a Muslim country.” Then I started thinking of how many times in the U.S. I've heard “Thank God” or “Oh my God!” or even “Bless you.” It appears to be much the same idea here.
I've gotten very used to seeing hijabs in the street. Even a couple of burqas, which I don't think I'd seen in real life before. In the house, though, none of the women wear them. (The same is true for most other host families. I believe Megan's host mother is the only exception. She'll wear it most of the time. Sometimes she'll take it off, but she'll always be ready to put it on at a doorbell's notice.) Saida didn't wear a hijab the first day we went out, but she has ever since. The latter part is true of my host mother as well. Abir doesn't wear one when she goes out.
During breakfast my host mother sometimes watches pilgrims on Hajj. Which sounds a lot more boring than it is. The cameras are zoomed out, so you can see hundreds or thousands of people walking around in circles while someone chants in Arabic. Sometimes it will show people who, in largest act of coordination I have ever witnessed, go down for a full bow, head on the floor, and then back up.
At one point, my host mother reached around to find what looked like a necklace with wooden beads and started moving them around. This is what Megan's host grandmother does. All day. They also only ever watch that pilgrimage channel. We pretty much just watch it for breakfast, and even then not consistently. Sometimes it's talk shows. And in the afternoon or evenings, it's usually Downtown Abbey and a K-drama (both dubbed over in Darija.)
In the middle of the day (and also possibly at 6 in the morning. I've never carefully investigated it, but I've heard voices then, and heard that some people do) they will sometimes go into the bathroom to wash up, come back to the salon, put out the hijab and outer gown that they keep there for this specific purpose, take a mat, and do individual prayers. That's probably the thing that took me the longest to get used to. (At one point, Abir was at the top of the stairs praying when I entered the house. I didn't want to interrupt her, so I just stayed there until she was done.)
Morocco is a Muslim country, but Rabat is used to tourists. You can find alcohol without needing to luck too hard. The first time we were on the boat, we were handed a menu that contained only virgin cocktails. (I've decided that “Virgin Sex on the Beach” is a dumb name for a drink.) Then one of the waiters realized that none of us looked particularly Muslim, and we were speaking in English, so she handed us the real drinks menu.
And finally, Ramadan.
Having woken up at 3:00 in the morning on Saturday to catch the flight to Morocco, Nathan and Megan both woke up at 3:00 in the next morning and heard their family having breakfast. Nathan's family invited him to join them. Megan's family looked at her and went “what are you doing? Go back to sleep. You'll get your breakfast in another six hours.”
They continue to serve us 3 meals a day, which I feel really guilty about. Especially breakfast, which I eat in front of my host parents. Lunch I at least take to my school so they can't see me enjoying the food they can't eat. But she's preparing both of those in daylight, so my host mother is making food when she knows she can't eat it, even to test it.
Our host families don't expect us to fast, but they do expect us to eat like we've been fasting. In addition to the regular main course, there's been soup. And bread, which still confuses me by not being out there to be dipped in the soup.
My host family gathers around a little bit before it's time to break their fast. When it is time (I'm not quite sure when that is. It's sunset, not three stars, so there's not the fun of staring up at the sky to try and find them. “I see one!” “That's the sun. You'll be waiting a while for another two.” Several hours later: “Now I actually see one!” “No, now you see an airplane. You were closer with the sun.”) they begin by drinking a glass of water or milk, then eat a date. It's an odd food to break a fast with. Sometimes it will take them a while to get down to eating significant food. I'm not quite sure how they manage.
I was expecting the Mdina to be much less crowded then normal. It's not. There are still people everywhere, even people cooking, and people buying from them. It's hard to tell if they're planning on eating it while the sun is still up or not.
We did receive an e-mail from the US embassy warning us of increased risks during Ramadan. The first is understandable but also frightening- in the hour before sunset, people are in a rush to get home to their families, so they drive even more recklessly than normal. (That was mainly a warning for drivers. They didn't have one about how pedestrians are also more reckless than normal, though that's probably true too.)
The second warning was that purse-snatchings were more common during Ramadan. “People are crankier so they're more likely to steal from tourists?” Erika suggested as explanation.
Natasha's bedroom is directly across from either a mosque or a Koranic school. In the past this has meant children chanting pretty much all day long. Last night, it meant a trumpet playing. Literally the whole night long. Between that and the politics reading she needed to present to the class, she hadn't gotten much sleep. “No. I shouldn't have to deal with a trumpet and risk of my purse being snatched. It's one or the other. Get together and decide.”
I'm pretty sure it doesn't work that way, but the warning about purse-snatchers didn't seem like the way it should work either. Ramadan is a month where Muslims are more pious than normal. You'd think avoiding petty theft would fall into the category of “things I should try not to do ever, especially during Ramadan.” Guess not.
