Just Another Day

14 Juilliet 2006

Schedule

So what is a typical day in M'Beidia like? Well since the calendar of
events for most of the native inhabitants is so light as to be almost
nonexistent (breathe, drink tea, eat, nap in the shade, repeat) I'll
tell you about mine, which is only marginally different.

At about six or six thirty in the morning, I'll wake up in my (now
usually sand filled) mosquito net, to the sound of roosters crowing (a
noise which, forgive me, possesses no redeeming qualities) and/or the
braying of donkeys (a sound whose redeeming qualities stem only from
the animal's beatific, sad eyes, and its childhood associations with
Eyore, of Winnie the Pooh fame). Then I'll lay in my tent for another
few minutes, the only place in the country I can (somewhat)
respectably lounge in my fruit of the looms (its fucking HOT people)
Then my mother Sahaba will beckon to me to get up, so I can put away
my tent and mattela, and sit on the ground for a few more minutes of
nothing at all

Then I'll eat breakfast (mburro/bread and gerte/peanuts) and tea, study
a bit and practice my verbs, until the kids start to rally round for
some sitting in my lap, or staring at me, or speaking at me
unintelligibly, or some being tickled, or fake growled at, or some
trying on my glasses. Repeat, repeat.

At quarter to eight or normally later, I'll head out to Haddou's house
for class, but no longer am I trailed behind by an escorting army of
children, Pied Piper fashion. Some of the novelty appears to have worn
off, but what could have stolen the spotlight from three crazy white
people in this village, I'm not yet sure. Still the catcalls continue
everywhere: "Hamed, Mohamed, Mohamed!!" That's my name folks, don't
wear it out.

At class we have four hours of language in the heat and sand of
Haddou's crumbling house, a little English chatter in the breaks (a
relief), a lot of confusion as we struggle to elucidate concepts
through a melange of English, bad French (on my part) and Hassaniya.
My smattering of French, and Haddou's sprinkle of oddly pronounced
English do not a complete match make. Still, we get by.

At noon, we break for our houses and families, eat maaro we il huut
(fish and rice, every day), play with my kids, drink some tea,
practice stringing together phrases such as "Do you have a donkey? Is
your donkey dirty? Does it make tea? (pause for laughs) Do you like
cats? Why?", and have a siesta if I can, but usually it's too hot, or
too sandy or too dirty or crowded to have much of a sleep.

Our afternoon class from four to six is usually pretty loopy,
afterwhich we repair to the garden until seven or eight, when it
starts to get darker, breezy, and lovely. Then dinner in the dark by
flashlight, a rest, a look at the stars, and then sleep. Enough about
my day, how about yours?