Street Food is a Panacea

Turns out a little goat's head and an eyeball were all I needed for a better mood.

Brad and I ran out of the house to grab something from the market (souk) and found the aforementioned bucket of goat heads empty next to a grill warming said heads up. I bought a goat head scrapple sandwich for 15 dirham (around $2), then asked if he had eyeball and was handed one for free; nice and hot with a sprinkle of cumin. Brad didn't want to try the sandwich or watch me eat the eyeball.

I'm pretty sure you can have a 4-course meal in our neighborhood, all off the street, for about 30 dirham, or $4.

I think I like it here.

A bucket of goat heads...

The taxi dropping me off kicks up dust behind me. Squinting through the smoke of grilling kebabs, I see the man in front of me carrying a bucket of roasted goat heads in his left hand. He tilts his body to the right, his feet unsure, trying managing the weight of the load of food.

The roasted goat heads are food. The taxi drivers might not know where things are. The hot water might not work. The train from Fez to Rabat might hit a cow and be delayed 4 hours. That same train may not have air conditioning or enough room for everyone to sit. You may spend two hours standing in the aisle; like on the Friday afternoon train from Rabat to Fez, for example.

Things are new to me here but in some way they are old. I think I'm not as excited about this summer as last because its not as shocking anymore. This is life and this is normal. I think I might be missing like-minded peers too. There are no anthropologists here.

Also, for some reason, things feel hectic - as though I'm rushing back and forth from AMIDEAST to home and then from their to spend the weekend somewhere - and its only been a week. I think I'm going to stop coming home before 7 PM. There is too much of Rabat and neighboring Sale to explore. Maybe (mumkin) that's what is missing - the sense of adventure I felt last year. My feet are not sore at the end of the day - that's disappointing.

My Arabic is getting better but the local dialect we're learning, Darija, is quite different. I've also noticed I understand more Arabic than I could speak, which I think suggests a lack of vocabulary, something I'll work on over the fall semester.

Until later this week,

Simon