Bulgarian Burgers

I woke up today to get a 4 am transit down the mountain. I don't know what it is about getting up a the crack of dawn, but it always makes me a bit gitty. I blame my parents, my dad mostly. I can remember setting my alarm clock, if not being woken up by my mom, to get up around 4:30 in the morning and get to the car to go who knows where. Dad loves driving anywhere, I guess that's where I get it. It was always so exciting... our bags would be packed, and my brothers and I would trudge down the stairs, still half asleep, but with a pillow in arm and head to the car. And back in those days, when we had our sweet van, we'd already have our spots in the car picked out, so we would hop in, and make our own little bed. Then, after making sure we had everything, we'd all head out. And usually we'd all conk back out by William Floyd (Mom probably just after we got on the LIE), with the promise of bagels in Queens. "I know just the place!" Dad would always say, he always knows just where to go. I guess that's why I never mind getting up early to travel, I think I'm always expecting to get bagels. So I thank you both for that.


Here's a little different. You hope there's a seat, by the window preferably, and then pray you don't get caught in a vomit frenzy. With still an unknown cause, travel and Moroccans just do not mix. And nothing is worse than standing in the middle of a moving van, with a women on either side of you, puking into a plastic bag. Thank you Man for inventing iPods. I should have thanked you a while ago when I was taking the LIRR home after a Wiggles concert got out. Lord, was that a rough ride. I had my first MP3 player that I still wouldn't be able to figure out, with only 10 Weezer songs on it, but I listened to that baby the entire ride home.

According to local legend, two lovers, Tislit and Isli were children of warring mountain tribes and had fallen deeply in love. When their families discovered their relationship, they refused to allow them to see one another, let alone marry. The couple was so heartbroken that they ran away to marry secretly, and then threw themselves into the mountain lakes that today bear their names.

Devastated by the deaths of their children, the tribes came together and agreed that from then on, no one would be able to dictate who their children were to marry. The wedding festival serves as a yearly reminder of both this freedom to choose and an opportunity for men and women to meet their future spouses. Indeed, it is one of the few opportunities many mountain villagers have to socialize with the opposite sex, and people come out in droves to see and be seen.

According to protocol, women are made up by their families in traditional dress, their single status identifiable by their pointed head apparel. Potential husbands then browse the goods on offer, egged on by their friends, before settling on a potential match. The womens' families still play a crucial role, determining whether or not the suitor is appropriate - if his application is unwanted, a broken handshake indicates he should move on. If, on the other hand, he is successful, his bride-to-be will say the immortal words: "You have captured my liver" and the match will be settled.

Right, back to the point. So, now I'm down here, in Rich, one of the two closer cities to my town, running around getting some shopping done and some serious internet-ing. Which means intense Facebook stalking; no one's safe. I need to stock up on some goods because this week my side of the mountain is playing host to the world renown Wedding Festival. The story behind the festival is this:

Okay, so these days it's more like huge open market, and there's a tent where couple's can get a marriage certificate. It's believed that no one really gets married off these days, but can still happen. I'm told there are marriage ceremonies up by the lakes, so hopefully I'll get to see some of that.

So I get to play host to about 10-15 volunteers in my little house with no running water. These guys will actually be able to have a real Peace Corps experience haha.. it should be a lot of fun. Most people haven't gotten a chance to come up the mountain, so it'll be a good time. And I promise, I will post pictures when I can. 

Work wise, we will be setting up a tent at the festival where we will be giving free blood pressure tests and talking about good pressure vs. bad and what one can do to prevent it. We'll also be talking about the hazards of smoking and the health infrastructure in Morocco and locally so people will know where to go for what. So hope for the best!

Okay, so what exactly have I been up to... not much. I'm still trying to get use to this whole idea of me living here. The language is coming along, as is work. Towards the end of Ramadan, I took a little trip to go camping a bit and then spent a little time on the other side of the mountain, relaxing, cooking up a storm, and just having a good time. Check it out...

Plum Trees, with delicious free plumbs (free if you don't ask...)

A Moroccan house, if you will

Can you find the man in the tree?

absolutely adorable.

pop-up tent and self made fire

Fresh peaches! Yum!

Looking down at Ait-M'Hamed

Enjoying some homemade apple cinnamon pancakes!

Bulgarian cheeseburgers with a ranch topping, my stomach was so happy!

...these ones had a fried egg on top, oh lord.

Weekly souk that serves around 30,000 people

check out those melons!

I realize after posting a lot of these pictures I need to take some more pictures of my own village. I don't know why I just haven't yet. I think it's I don't really think to bring my camera along with me when I take walks, and I apologize. But, I'm on it next time.

Alright readers, I hate to leave, but my ADD is kicking in and I do have some errands to run. A lot of food and other items I need to run around town to buy. There's no Target, no one stop shopping in this town. One day maybe...