When the going gets weird…

When the going gets weird…


Recently The Rev left my favorite comment of all time. Something like ‘When the going gets weird, the weird go to Morocco and get married’. I’m too lazy to go find it since I am already dealing with typing on a french keyboard set up for Arabs in an internet cafe where the connection speed varies from slow to non-existant, but that was the gist of it.

I haven’t gotten married yet, but we are working on it. Life is certainly strange. I see that the Stock market is making a correction and my guess is that it will level out and then drop to less than 6500…maybe I’m wrong though… in any event, of course I am rooting for as much of a collapse as possible. I have little to nothing and lower stock prices, real estate prices, and the loss of the past few years ridiculous economy of excess, luxury goods, and exorbitant lifestyles are all a good thing to me.

I’ve got 30K in school loans to pay back, no good prospects for work, and am about to get married in a country where the King is also the official head of the religion. Okay, that’s not exactly true, actually we are going to spend all of our combined savings to go to another African country to get married because it is damn near impossible to have a white American man marry a Moroccan woman here. By the time we jumped through the hoops we would have spent it all anyway…

I am running out of money anyway but we need to get married so we can have the semblance of a normal life here. In Muslim countries there is not really any such thing as living together or even dating, and living with her family is drivingt us both nuts even though zwe love them.

Today we are going to start a project where we are going to breed rabbits and sell them. Yes, I am using my college degree to become a rabbit breeder. In additon, I am going to continue spending money like I actually make any from this website. By the way, thanks for the two donations. I’ll use them to buy a rabbit. The other five we need I will use some of what remains of the money we need to get married. This might work. If the damn cats don’t eat all the rabbits.

A few days ago I took a small hike with Hanane’s 14 year old brother Foued and his friends Osama and Yussef. We hiked into the forest, lit a small fire, cooked lunch, played music, and threw rocks like Palestinians in training. In fact, whenever we hit the target I would point at the thrower and say ‘Philistine’. I like hanging out in the woods and making up games, we also played to see who could stack the most rocks into a pile. That’s my game too, though it is more fun than it sounds. Then we made up an Arabic song about farting. In arabic ‘Hazaaka’.

Yesterday after meeting up with an American friend of Hanane’s that she used to teach with, she and I went up to the Cascade of Sefrou…very nice.

All the bread and sugary tea are making me fat and I’ve been sick for a month. I started running again yesterday though and it was nice to run by men on tiny donkeys and shepherds sitting on lonely hillsides.

Herer is a fun fact…we sleep on a mattress that was made right before our eyes. It looks like a normal mattress but in fact is stuffed with wool from the sheep of Hanane’s dad. No springs, just wool. It gets a little lumpy, but it’s definitely the first time I have ever seen a mattress stitched up. It looks just like a sealy posturpedic but isn’t quite as posturpedic.

Oh yeah. The donkeys here are really small. When I was a kid I lived in a place called Big Bear where we had burros that we called donkeys, but they were twice the size of these. I think I want to buy one and ride it around Sefrou.