The Girl From Fez Returns
A key aspect of the human experience is filled with the intrinsic need to derive meaning from the world around us. We extract meaning from objects, actions, words, and even names. I had always wondered what my name meant but had never really gotten a clear answer until I studied abroad last summer in Fez, Morocco. Having come from a Liberian Muslim background, I always knew my name had to mean something but imagine my surprise in learning that the literal translation of ‘Facia’ is ‘Girl from Fez.’ Coincidence or destiny? I felt a sense of belonging every time I would tell a Moroccan my name. Their faces would light up in delightful surprise as they inquired “Facia? From Fez?” Fez became a very special place for me, not just because of my name but because of what I found in Fez. Fez helped me mold my Black identity as an African refugee turned American Citizen. For that reason, the thirst to return became almost overwhelming especially because I did not feel like I had learned all that Fez had to teach me. So I made a promise to myself that I would do everything in my power to return InShaAllah (God willing). So here I am, at 12:03 pm in the A.L.I.F. Riad on the Saturday that marks the beginning of Ramadan. I can’t wait to see what Fez has to teach me this time around.
Impromptu First Base
When it comes to my personal philosophies on life, I tend to stray from the traditional as much as possible. When it comes to where I live in Fez, however, I am traditional all the way. You get two options when it comes to living with a host family in Fez: the old Medina, or the new Medina. The old Medina is probably what you think about when you imagine Morocco: bright colors, beautiful architecture, and intricate patterns, whereas the new Medina is very modern and similar to the inside of any home in the states. That being said, no matter which Medina you choose, you are bound to have an amazing experience with your host family. I was lucky enough to build amazing bonds with my host family last summer and I am already on the way to doing the same with my host family this summer. But an amazing experience does not equal a smooth experience, trust me, there will always be bumps in the road. My first ‘bump in the road’ occurred upon meeting my host mother for the first time. In Morocco, it is custom to kiss a member of the same sex on each check as a greeting and Moroccans tend to do this very swiftly and depending on whom, they may kiss three or more times instead of two. As my host mother approached me for the customary kiss, I assumed it would only be two kisses with one on each cheek, but boy was I wrong. Imagine my panic when she went in for the third kiss and I wasn’t sure which cheek she was going for and ended up catching the side of her lip. It has been a few days and neither of us has brought it up so I guess we’re good. While it wasn’t a full frontal make out session, please learn from my mistake and try your best to avoid an impromptu first base situation.
The Water Still Tastes Like Baby Tears
If you ever plan to travel to Africa expect to sweat. A lot. You will sweat in places you didn’t even know you could sweat. Every crevice of your body will become a sweat producing machine. Morocco has taught me that the heat is all in my head. I am only as hot as I think I am. I remember how shocked I was last summer in Fez when I would see Moroccans wearing jeans and cardigans in 103 degree weather, now this summer I do the same thing. I tell myself that no matter how many layers I am wearing, it is still going to be 103 degrees outside and that helps me get by. That and refreshing beverages. Considering the heat and how much I sweat, one would think I was drinking lots of water to stay hydrated right? Wrong! Because our puny American bodies are not used to the tap water in Morocco, non natives tend to drink only bottled water while abroad but I noticed something quite peculiar about the bottled water here. When the bottled water is cold and right out of the fridge, the taste is refreshing and only slightly different from the taste of bottled water in the states, however, lets say that bottled water has been in your backpack for about 2 hours under the African sun and what do you get? BABY TEARS. It is a term I coined last summer to describe the distinct taste of Moroccan bottled water that has been transformed by the heat of the sun. So instead of drinking lots of water like I usually do in the states, I find myself downing deliciously fresh squeezed orange juice sold at the kiosk at ALIF as well as my favorite drink of choice, a green apple soda called POM’s. You only live once right?
-Facia N