Baby's first week of school!

If my first week of school had to be described in only one word, it would be "overwhelming."

First, I’d like to list my classes at l-madrassa (school):

-Philosophy (taught in fusha)

-Fusha (taught in fusha)

-Education Islamique (taught in fusha)

-Biology

-Chemistry

-Physics

-French

-English

-Sport (gym class)

As you may know, fusha is modern standard Arabic, which I am NOT learning. I am learning Darija, the Moroccan dialect of Arabic, which is as far from modern standard Arabic as possible without being English. This means that during every class taught in fusha, I am asked questions I cannot answer (despite mentioning multiple times that I don’t speak fusha), and am expected to pay attention. I agree that immersion is good for learning languages like French and Spanish... but Arabic? It’s just a bunch of throaty sounds until you study it. And I have not studied fusha.

Second, school is 8 hours long and strict. It’s very shameful to use the bathroom during class in Morocco, to the point where Otmane says he peed himself when he was 14 years old. If any of y’all know me, you know that my bladder is the size of a pea. Luckily, I’m a FOREIGNER so I get away with urinating once in 8 hours. 

Also, the CHAIRS!!! I cannot even express how uncomfortable the classroom chairs are, so instead, I will describe them. The butt part of the chair is made of 3 separated wooden bars. The back part has a bar of metal that perfectly hits your lower spine. It is physically impossible to lean back or even slouch without experiencing extreme discomfort. Even proper posture is not so easy on the butt bones.

My teachers mostly teach in French, except when they speak in fusha, but Darija words are thrown in every sentence. Also, every now and then, I don’t understand what’s happening in class so I listen harder, upset that my French isn’t as good as I thought, and then I realize that the teacher is speaking darija! Huzzah!

Also, my SVT teacher (sciences de la vie et le terre/biology) says EVERY CLASS, "unfortunately there are foreigners here" which is hilarious because I can understand what he’s saying. He has said it in French and Darija. Sir, I know you don’t like me. You still must teach. The other teachers are super nice, though. Mostly. 

My English teacher says that if I ever need anything, I can ask him for help, and my math and chemistry teachers are very encouraging (which means that they look at my work, nod, and walk away). 

My philosophy teacher (who teaches in fusha) does these weird exercises where he asks the students to memorize paragraphs of SOMETHING (I don't know what! I don't speak fusha!) during class and recite them a few minutes later, and the paragraphs are very long so this task is even difficult for fluent fusha students. The knows that I don’t speak fusha, so I always think "I’m safe, he won't ask me to memorize this paragraph and recite it in front of everyone" but I am a fool who never learns. He calls on me, and I have to repeat fusha paragraphs after him while he frequently stops and puts his finger on his throat and makes the « kh » sound. And then he makes me do it 30x, tells the class that Americans can’t make these noises, and then makes me do the noises again. Luckily, he is a very nice man and he laughs when I try to make the noises, and I laugh because I look ridiculous, and the class laughs because the teacher is torturing the foreigner, and class moves on. It's a fun game.

My French teacher is scary and publicly humiliates kids for doodling in class and I FEAR HER. Oh, but she answered a phone call from her mom in the middle of class, which was cute. 

Also there’s this guy who is the gym teacher, and also the "director of everything" according to somebody in my class. He patrols the halls all day every day, which is wild because it’s not like anybody is in the hallway... we can’t even go to the bathroom! But anyways, Jeremy and I exclusively refer to him as TrackSuit because he wears the same tracksuit to school every day: a white Adidas jacket and bright red Adidas pants. Every day!!! It’s hilarious.

Also, on my very first day, he physically kicked 4 kids out of the way of transport (the buses) even though the buses weren’t leaving yet. He just wanted to kick them. He was very aggressive about it. One of the kids he kicked is my new friend. I think I’m getting in with the wrong crowd. Oops. 

Oh my GOODNESS how could I forget! TrackSuit is kind of a chiropractor. Jeremy said he was tired and then TrackSuit offered to squish Jeremy’s neck or something. His intentions were unclear. Also, I told my classmate that I hurt my shoulder swimming and some kid told me that TrackSuit could dislocate it and pop it back in for me. I pretended to consider this generous offer and then gently declined. 

Also, fun fact about Moroccan schools: most require that the students wear "tabliers" which are essentially lab coats. Their sole purpose is to cover the girls’ butts. I swear I attend the only school that does not require tabliers, which is GREAT because I didn’t want to spend 90 dirhams on that awful sack. 

Another interesting thing about the schools here: they include children from all grades, starting in what I’m guessing is 2nd grade. Moroccan schools use the French education system so I’m not entirely sure how old the kiddos are. But during lunch, kids are always running around screaming and I kind of like it. I feel emotionally connected to them, because internally I am always screaming. 

The walls of the school are completely bare!!! I rely on random yelps and toy bombs exploding outside the window (this sounds scary, but I promise it’s totally safe and normal... just a lot of weird sounds here in Rabat) to stay alert in class. 

In other news, kids keep asking why I’m here and I say « to study French and Darija » and then they speak to me in English! It’s a tad frustrating, but I keep responding in French and Darija when I can.

The older kids don’t eat lunch!!! Only kids 11 years old and below eat! And me, of course. Munch munch munch!

The male-female dynamics in school are super interesting. Everyone is staring at me all the time (except in class because I’m in the deuxième bac so the academic pressure is wack) but during the first couple days, if I approached a group of kids with Jeremy, the males would only acknowledge him and not me. Jeremy told me that it's because I’m an American girl and they don’t know how to act with foreign females and what’s okay/not okay (unlike the disgusting guy on the street who said he wanted to put babies in me!). But, I was persistent throughout the week because all the Moroccan girls are friends with Moroccan guys so I knew it was okay, and I want as many friends as possible. Sure enough, I stole two of Jeremy’s friends!! Kachow! Claimed! Okay I stole one. The other is a work in progress.

In other news, today our waiter was talking to Mira and Jeremy in German (per usual) and I wasn’t saying anything because I DON’T. SPEAK. GERMAN. And the waiter told Mira that I don’t speak Arabic as well as them which is funny because I’ve never spoken Arabic to him ever. So I proceeded to call the waiter heartless in Arabic (in a jokey way) and then answered questions because I UNDERSTOOD WHAT HE WAS SAYING because I’m not dumb. And then he told Mira that I was smart (while I was sitting there, and could still understand) so HA suck it, waiter man.

This is a bit off-topic (who's surprised? come on) but Jeremy is allergic to nuts and instead of telling his host mom that he will die if he eats something with nuts, he accidentally said "if I eat this, I will kill you" in Darija and I have never been so entertained.

Today a nice old woman in the hammam helped me get the dead skin off my back. 

P.S. Hi Kiren (Karen with an i)!!!! I am glad you like my blog and your sister’s name is Kristin. Also is Svetlana your mom? Nevermind, she’s Ben’s mom. Mira is a nice name... good choice. The kid? Not so much. Love, Madeleine