Merry Christmas (or) Roman Holiday Part Two

Remember that time we went to Italy?

Our visit to Rome, in an unexpected way, helped us to put Fez into perspective. Ever corner you turn seems to hide some millennia-old treasure, just as it does here. And the fact that most Roman ruins predate their Fessi counterparts makes it all the more impressive. Being able to wander around and see the inner constructions of these early wonders of human invention put our own walled city into its proper relief, shaking us from our (often imprecise) assumptions. Walking these streets in the days leading up to and immediately following Christmas proved incredibly striking...

I'm only choosing a handful of photos here to attempt and represent the indescribable experience of touring Rome. Our time there, for the first time in a while, was spent as true "tourists" - speaking Italian straight from the phrase book, bumping into people because we were feverishly reading our Rick Steves' guidebook, all those things that people do with the express concern of pissing us off here in Fez. We saw the sights, got ourselves lost, missed busses, and stumbled into some of the most outstanding (and understated) restaurants imaginable. In so many ways, the time we passed in Rome was just perfect.

Then we went to Florence and Tuscany...

Check it out - we're in Agustus' house. Yeah, that guy who called everyone to head back home for a census. You may know the story.

The view of the Roman Forum and the Colosseum from the hill. This was what the Emperor saw when he peeked out the window. PS: Got to stand on a rock in the ground where the throne was, where history was decided.

This is what remains of Constantine's Basilica. (The Christians snagged their method of construction from these older justice halls, which then lent their name to the large churches.) If you look really, really closely, you may be able to see Annie standing tall under the arches.

Baby it's cold outside.

Behind the Pantheon.

We snuck into the Colleseum right before we had to leave for Florence. Quaint.

"Do you think that I'm allowed to touch it?"

Merry Christmas (or) Roman Holiday Part One (More Photos)

Taking a much needed break with one of Italy's real treats, literal hot chocolate (what seemed to be melted chocolate in a cup)!

Even Santa went to the "Blessing of the World" after a long night of work.

It's a good thing we ended up in the front row. I can only imagine the sea of umbrellas behind us (and the need for some safety goggles if walking around back there).

In case you missed it, Papa says "Merry Christmas" (in Italian, English, Japanese, Spanish, Esperanto...)

Merry Christmas from the Trevi Fountain! (And yes, we threw our three coins in the fountain, so we should be headed back soon.)

Merry Christmas (or) Roman Holiday Part One

St. Peter's and a Christmas tree donated by Indonesia... Unexpected, eh?

We made it, and we made it back. Upon looking through the photos from our Christmas/Anniversary/Birthday/New Years excursion to Italy, I am stunned by the sheer mass of things we saw and did (and forgot about!).

This was one of my favorite statues that we saw in the vast Vatican Museum. The priest (center) is being held back by the gods because he is trying to warn the Trojans that letting the horse in is a bad idea... and therefore divert the fate set for the city. This is his punishment and his pain.

The internet here in Fez has been spotty, which I'm sure has absolutely nothing to do with the noisy construction that we returned home to. Workers are tearing out the road and replacing gigantic pipes in the street (2-foot-wide alley) behind us. At the same time, I've been seeing folks in blue lab jackets on ladders playing with power lines and, presumably, phone cables. Thus, these posts will be short. Consider it an effort to get something up before we have a communications blackout once again. (Today we had to climb over a pile of mud and rocks to get out of our house! But by the time we got back, the world was flat once again.) (PS: I don't think that was a pun about Galileo, whose museum we visited, but perhaps I should pretend that it was.)

After so many rooms and so many works of art, the world gets a bit dizzy.

Returning to Rome... I'm struck by the number of photos and stories we have of the Vatican. We made it back there more times than I had expected. My parents had told me that they went every day, and I was surprised. But we had more than enough reason to make the subway pilgrimage over and over again. This is partly due, of course, to our impeccable timing. And our absurdly inefficient efforts to see the vastness of what it has to offer. And Annie's last desire to get a rosary bracelet. I'm going to include mostly pictures here, simply implying the stories behind them. If you want to hear more, 'cause you're that kind of listener, you'll have to ask. Otherwise I'll get bogged down in the not-so-interesting details... (Like our Vatican Museum tour guide, who spent a half-hour in front of a TV screen talking about what we would see instead of showing us what was there!) So, here are some photos, and I'll try and post soon in an effort to embellish the rest of Rome.

Merry very belated Christmas to you all!

Michelangelo's Pieta at St. Peter's.

St. Peter at St. Peter's. After the museum, we took a short cut into the church. It was late, dark, and an impressive mix of massive and intimate. This was our first visit, we returned two or three more times after (and never had to wait in the long line!).

Happy New Year!

So I decided that this deserves a blog post.

Annie and I are sitting in our living room at 8:42pm waiting to find out if we have classes tomorrow. If so, we have to get up to get to school by 8am, and I probably won't have my homework finished. But if we don't, we sit and relax for a day.

See, tomorrow is "ras al-'am" or "ras as-sina." The head of the year, or the Islamic New Year. We should be singing "Auld Lang Syne," but instead I need to find out if I have to write a dialogue in Moroccan Arabic about going to the doctor for my early morning classes. I feel so not-festive. Earlier I told someone that we might come visit tomorrow since it's the New Year and we may not have classes. He thought I was crazy, and told me "It's only December 6th." "Hijra!" "Oh yeah, that's right." With a potential day off of work, you'd think people would be more interested!

So the change of the Islamic month depends on the moon (it's a lunar calendar). You can't tell when a new month begins until you have a sighting late at night. If you have a TV, you find out quickly, but if you don't (like us), you have to go around asking people whether or not it's the new year.

Our Advent wreath, burning bright

Keeping with the holiday season, we started an Advent wreath. The only candles that we could find on short notice, however, were from near the Moulay Idriss mosque. Shopkeepers line the neighboring streets selling these candles (and much bigger ones), all varieties of incense, prayer beads, rosewater, scented oils, and items from the Hajj (pilgrimage to Mecca). All of these things are for specific uses during ceremonies and rituals, so we figured that we were alright using them for a wreath. Eh? You make do. Purple candles aren't very popular for some reason or another.

Turkey dinner!

Thanksgiving was a treat as well! Thursday afternoon we found ourselves turkey paninis. With great french fries. Yes, nothing says American Thanksgiving like a turkey panini and french fries. The next evening, though, we were invited to a Thanksgiving party that included a roasted turkey (brought live from Marrakech) and PB&J sandwiches.

PS: Just got a call from a friend, it's New Years! Happy New Year everyone!

Eid Mubarak Said!

He has no idea... Or maybe he does.

Today was day one of Eid al-Kabir, the celebration of Abraham's willingness to sacrifice his son. Each family finds themselves a nice "kabsh" (ram) for the household, and this week has been full of people asking us if we have yet to get our own. "Mazal," not yet... I never knew that rams were so loud, and I never got so much enjoyment from watching people attempt to convince these large animals to walk down the street. But all that is over now - this morning the unbelievable ram population here in Fez diminished rapidly.

The man with the plan, and the deed is done.

Preparations throughout the city were extensive. Men selling grains (for the short-term pets) and offering to sharpen knives (also for the short-term pets) filled the streets. There is an entire mini-economy around the Eid, especially considering that the animals go for a small fortune, $200-400 each! No, we did not get our own, although they are pretty cute.

Annie with Hiba, the youngest daughter.

A family invited us to their celebrations, they have been kind and welcoming to us for a few years now, smothering us with their generosity. We woke them up this morning (whoops), after the hour-long call to prayer. We didn't want to miss the sacrifice, of course! Following a quick breakfast, the man arrived who was to do the deed... The mini-economy also includes a number of wandering butchers, going from house to house and taking care of business. This fella, however, was a friend of the family, much more trustworthy than a rushing butcher! You can't mess around with your ram.

Cleaning up the blood, in heels.

The entire family went upstairs, and of course I brought the camera. I'll spare the gory details (but not all of the gory pictures), and just say that it took a while to get everything taken care of, and this family, like the rest of Fez, is going to be eating meat for a long time. The highlight: the mother decided that it'd be funny to scare Annie with the ram's head.

A picture is worth a thousand words. Mama Boujma goes after Annie...

Eid Day 1 involves sacrificing the animal (you only get two cuts, so you better make them good), skinning it, and getting all the organs out. The skin, now inside out, gets salted and saved for later, when it's given to the leather workers and made into decoration, a prayer rug, or sold. Kids  in the street spend the day roasting heads for the neighbors, which become breakfast for the next morning. (If we visit anyone tomorrow, we're going to be sure to be late...) The liver and heart turn into brochettes (kabobs), which, for our lunch today, were cooked over an open fire in the living room. Unexpected. Then, nap time. At this point, we found our way out and came home. I believe that the stomach turns into dinner (slow cooked), and the meat becomes a consistent meal for days to come.

One down (on the right, hanging), one to go.

The man of the house.

My secret hope for this whole process? I want to get a pair of ribs, so I can play the "bones" in the bluegrass band when I get back to the states. Tomorrow? We're heading back - Annie's getting henna (I'll post pictures) and we're going to partake in the more "meaty" meal, now that the liver's gone.

Eid mabarak said!

Liver brochettes for lunch. They were quite good! And followed with liver-stuffed heart.

Suq al-Rsayf

Our seafood man.

The weekend menu? Fresh seafood. Despite the fact that Fez is far from the ocean, there are deliveries of fruits of the sea every Tuesday and Saturday. I prepared to make shrimp with chermoula, a mix of spices (paprika, saffron, others), lemon, cilantro, and garlic. When we got there, though, we just couldn't resist the idea of trying shark. Yes, shark. We had shark. It was tasty, not quite like fish, not so flaky, but still fishy. Curious, eh?

The Rsayf (often spelled Rc'if) market is smack in the middle of Fez's medina, the old city. It's still operating in much the same way that it did in the past, with the addition of margarine and boxed milk. The butchers have cows hanging in the back of their small stalls, they cut a piece off, grind it up with spices, garlic, onion, and cilantro. The chicken sellers are in stalls full of chickens running around. (They smell.) The best part? They weigh the chicken alive, to make sure that's the one you want, before they do what they need to do. The struggling, and loud, poultry is a sight to see. PS: You can also get pidgin, duck, turkey, and quail. The camel seller advertises with a giant hanging camel head (see the photo).

The sign says "ground camel." Note the hanging head.

My favorites, however, are the spice guys and the parsley/cilantro sellers. The spice men know what they're doing. You walk up, tell them what you're making and what flavor you want, and they mix the appropriate spices into a small packet of rolled newspaper. To get cilantro or parsley, however, you need to speak with old men and women sitting on the ground, usually with a crate of some sort, surrounded by greens and mint. This particular woman refused to sell me one (huge) bunch of cilantro. I just must have two. Why? I only need one! Six dirhams for two. And for one? Six for two. I don't understand. The Eid, of course, everyone needs two bunches of cilantro! Oooooh, well, I just need one. In fact, only a half. Oh, ok (she says as she must assume that I'm a terrible, terrible host). The conversation took longer that I could have possibly imagined, but I'm going to make sure I return to her next time I need anything from her carton.

She was quite concerned with my Eid preparations. But her cilantro was great.

Fighting through the crowd of women in an attempt to find thyme and oregano.

Mandarins are in season!

Al-Ashiya al-Gnawiya

Hamid, Abd ar-Rzaq, and Annie having some pre-ceremony tea.

One week in, and I think my dissertation research is done.

Yesterday we were invited to an Ashiya Gnawiya, a Gnawa afternoon. Now, I'd been to a Gnawa layla before. In fact, the layla (night) ceremony made up a few chapters of my masters thesis. In the layla, people (mostly women) who are possessed by a mluk (spirit) go into trance during the segment of music dedicated to that particular spirit. Some of the mluk are from Islamic history (Moses, Abraham), while some are sub-Saharan (Aisha, Mimun). The maskun (possessed) are covered with cloths matching the color of the spirit and feed on the jawi (incense) to strengthen the possession.

This ashiya (afternoon) was not supposed to have any of this. But it did.

The event was held for a woman who was having trouble breathing. The belief is that these types of health issues can come from an unhappy mluk, or a new one. In order to appease the spirit, the maskun must hold a ceremony. The ashiya, however, is cheaper than a layla, and shorter. After two or three hours (and no possession) we expected the event to end, but then the woman went into a deep trance, screaming, rolling on the ground. People came from around the room to help her, bring her to the incense, and push her into the next stage. Then the layla portion began as the musicians went into the series of songs that bring on each mluk.

If anyone is interested in the specifics of the theology and traditions, let me know. This is hardly the venue for such a conversation.

The big news, though... unlike in the past, the musicians allowed (even requested) me to record the entire thing. In the past, I've taken pictures and recorded the opening portion, but once the trances begin, it's all off limits for obvious reasons. This time, however, they kept asking me for my recorder and putting it prime position between them. If I had to, I could transcribe this event, get the lyrics, and write a paper. Pardon my excitement. Upon later listening, however, it's shocking just how intense and frightening the entire experience is.

The musicians. Abd ar-Rzaq was my teacher during the last few trips, in red. The man to his right is restringing his hajhuj.