Djellebas, Zizou, and Tracuers

Wednesday was a day full of new sights, sounds, and people. It also turned out some very good pictures I wish I was able to show you at the moment, as well. The details of school I won't narrate day by day so as not to bore you or spout useless knowledge.

School aside, the first notable events of the day begin during the four hour lunch between classes. After class John and I headed down to the Bath'a taxi stop by our house to walk into Fes al-Bali (the old medina). I somehow lost the djeleba story so I will save it and the Old City for Saturday after our trip there.

After our short hour walk through the medina it was time to head back to the house for lunch. This was our first lunch at home so far and it turns out the rest of the family was over. Since our apartment is in the process of being moved into, Jemel's wife and kids live with his mother not far from where we are. As we walked in I met Jemel's wife and his two boys Si Mohammed and Zai'ed. Jemel informed me they usually went by Simou and Zizou for short, also meaning little. In Arabic سي means "sir" and is a sign of respect for the names of prophets and elders. So سي محمد becomes سيمو.. Simou is an energetic and friendly boy of eight, and like many young children is never shy for attention. Zizou is the younger at one and a half but has athleticism, smarts, and curiosity beyond his age. If there is any kind mischievous activity that is possible he is the one to find it. A couple of his favorite activities include running out into the stairs when the door is left open and climbing up the bars on my window.

After lunch and a short siesta we head back for our afternoon class. Class was good as always and school was done for the day and we moved on towards the evening.

This particular afternoon John, Tara, Jama, and I decided to walk back to our host homes by Fes al-Bali for the first time. What is a relatively cheap 8 minute taxi ride turned out to be an entertaining 2 hour walk home. If you walk the route without detour it is about a thirty minute walk, but being curious and distracted by photo opportunities in the longer afternoon light it took me and John a little longer. Tara and Jama decided they were rather hungry and went ahead on their own. Halfway home John and I stopped by a park outside of the 'mellah', which is the old Jewish quarter, on the edge of Ville Nouvelle. They were groups of young Moroccan men and boys playing football, but we noticed another group practicing their urban gymnastics in the grass closer to the street. We walked up and met the group of five or so young 'tracuers'. They were practicing flips and handsprings sometimes associated with the sport that broke my wrist, yes they were doing parkour. Or at least if not a pure version of the sport, something I could associate with. In a conversation of mixed Arabic, French, and English I discovered they were fans of 'le parkour' and explained it was how I broke my wrist unfortunately. While making small talk about this and that they were happy to show off their best moves for my camera and turned out some good photos. Leaving the park for home reminded me of all the relationships and friendly acquaintances that you make here that really make the experience great. I say hello and ask the barber by the school everyday since and he remembers me and replies with a smile and I will probably be back to the park not far from home and school to play football and socialize with the local tracuers.

Until tomorrow, this is me signing out.
آندرو