Strange Nasrani

7 Juilliet 2006

HI PALS

Good morning! Here I am at my homestay family's, after having just
woken from my first night in the village. We're all lying on a mat on
the ground (ubiquitous here), me on my side writing, with about 7
filthy children all staring and smiling at me, a few feet away. Nobody
understands a word I say, everyone speaks Hassaniya, except for the
few I've found who speak even worse French than I do. Everyone who
speaks Hassaniya sounds like they're working so hard, and when I try
to replicate the sounds, they get stuck in my throat.

Anyway, we arrived yesterday and after meeting our mothers at Haddous
'house' (mud hut) we three set off in separate directions for our
respective homes, trailed by literally tons and tons of filthy,
crowding children, grabbing at my pants, touching my arms and legs,
holding my hands, and giggling at the strange nasrani (white person)
with all the kooky gear. On the way, I taught them "Hello" and "How
are you?" and they repeated it back in robotic fashion, not
comprehending.

When we got home, they ambushed me again, and I sat on the porch
surrounded by a thousand pressing bodies, as I pointed to my shirt, my
eyes, my toes, my watch, and anything else I could possibly touch/see,
and scribbled down their en masse responses as best as I could notate.

I'm so tired now. I slept fairly well, but this whole experience has
been so incredibly draining.