Horrific Weekend
So, I caught my siblings in the act of trying to break into my (locked) luggage, and I know for a fact that they were using Blanchette while I was just downstairs eating lunch. I hung out several times with BU kids wandering the city, eating pizza, but I had a curfew of 11pm, so I was never able to go out to experience the night life. I covered my head one evening to see the effect, and boy howdy, no one gave me a second look. Except for the drunk asshole who grabbed my arm and kept following us for a few blocks until I indicated that I was heading to the police station. This happened despite the fact that we were walking with one of the boys. I actually spent more than ten hours on homework this weekend. Even on the Charles River campus this would be a ridiculous amount of work for a first weekend. My family had three strange young men over yesterday; no one told me anything. They walked by my room a few times but never looked at me. I feel like I am in a boarding house because I am only spoken to when it's dinner time or to get yelled at for having left something plugged in.
As I may be changing my home, if you mail me stuff, send it to the school:
P.O. Box 6291
Rabat Instituts
Rabat - MOROCCO 10101
I just had culture class. I still have short bouts of hated towards the professor. Our homework is to pick a poem, analyze the hell out of it, and prepare to lead class on Wednesday. There are several problems with this assignment. First off, it's poetry. Second, they're the Arabic equivalent of haikus. Third, we don't know enough north African culture, history, or politics to be able to do much with these poems. I can hardly wait.
It keeps being cold here. The weather man keeps saying it'll be 65 tomorrow, but it stays around 50 no matter what. I am so bummed out. Semesters abroad are supposed to be the most wonderful thing about college. I went into college with only one goal - to go abroad. Now that I'm doing it, I find myself not enjoying it - at all. This city is dirty. I cannot go out and see it because I'm stuck in class or at the center during the day and I risk physical violation if I go out at night. I don't interact with my host family, and I can't interact with my real family. I have been not been warm for fourteen days straight nor have I ever felt full at a meal. I think I've lost some serious weight because my pants won't staying up.
We went sightseeing this weekend. There is an artsy pier at the beach that we walked all the way out on and sat on the edge of the sculpted puzzle pieces and watched the waves hit against the rocks fifteen feet away from us. We were there for half an hour with no problem, but as soon as we made ready to leave, a huge wave came and soaked us all. Considering that it was cloudy, windy, and 55 that day, we were miserable for a while. The beach was covered with trash because Moroccans don't believe in public trashcans. There is a public garden near the medina that we went to, and while it was really pretty, it was also dirty but at least here there were trashcans. I felt like I was in a zoo from all the stares and calls and attempts at conversation from the passersby. One man gave a girl from our group an umbrella because it was slightly raining. We got some gelato afterwards. I got raspberry, some people got chocolate, cookie, and pecan, but one girl got date-flavored gelato. I adore dates, but I do not think that I liked that gelato.
Last night my mother asked me to help her read the letter that I written to the family back in the fall. That was the first time we carried on a conversation that didn't revolve about my going out with BU kids or dinner. She brought me tea on Friday for the very first time since I had been, and I got tea and coffee yesterday. Sadly, that is the full extent of Moroccan hospitality that I have experienced.
As I may be changing my home, if you mail me stuff, send it to the school:
P.O. Box 6291
Rabat Instituts
Rabat - MOROCCO 10101
I just had culture class. I still have short bouts of hated towards the professor. Our homework is to pick a poem, analyze the hell out of it, and prepare to lead class on Wednesday. There are several problems with this assignment. First off, it's poetry. Second, they're the Arabic equivalent of haikus. Third, we don't know enough north African culture, history, or politics to be able to do much with these poems. I can hardly wait.
It keeps being cold here. The weather man keeps saying it'll be 65 tomorrow, but it stays around 50 no matter what. I am so bummed out. Semesters abroad are supposed to be the most wonderful thing about college. I went into college with only one goal - to go abroad. Now that I'm doing it, I find myself not enjoying it - at all. This city is dirty. I cannot go out and see it because I'm stuck in class or at the center during the day and I risk physical violation if I go out at night. I don't interact with my host family, and I can't interact with my real family. I have been not been warm for fourteen days straight nor have I ever felt full at a meal. I think I've lost some serious weight because my pants won't staying up.
We went sightseeing this weekend. There is an artsy pier at the beach that we walked all the way out on and sat on the edge of the sculpted puzzle pieces and watched the waves hit against the rocks fifteen feet away from us. We were there for half an hour with no problem, but as soon as we made ready to leave, a huge wave came and soaked us all. Considering that it was cloudy, windy, and 55 that day, we were miserable for a while. The beach was covered with trash because Moroccans don't believe in public trashcans. There is a public garden near the medina that we went to, and while it was really pretty, it was also dirty but at least here there were trashcans. I felt like I was in a zoo from all the stares and calls and attempts at conversation from the passersby. One man gave a girl from our group an umbrella because it was slightly raining. We got some gelato afterwards. I got raspberry, some people got chocolate, cookie, and pecan, but one girl got date-flavored gelato. I adore dates, but I do not think that I liked that gelato.
Last night my mother asked me to help her read the letter that I written to the family back in the fall. That was the first time we carried on a conversation that didn't revolve about my going out with BU kids or dinner. She brought me tea on Friday for the very first time since I had been, and I got tea and coffee yesterday. Sadly, that is the full extent of Moroccan hospitality that I have experienced.
posted by Athena | 8:28 AM
2 Comments:
Hang in there Devs. Just think of the memories and experience as something you can tell your children and grandchildren. Look for the little things that can bring a small amount of pleasure...no matter how small. Don't let depression get to you. You are such a strong and positive young lady, you can find something good in this. Just keep looking. I've been really sick, and didn't get a chance to send your pillow, which is good since you gave a new address to use. I promise to do it this week. Many hugs. Love ya!
Well Devon my love, I fully believe you can do this and do it with a great amount of class (not schooling..). I will be sending you a package soon. Any requests? Snacks? anything you want... I will get it to you! Lots of Love.
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