I still find myself eating with my hands and adding unreasonable amounts of milk to my coffee. Occasionally a “shukran” or “Alhamdulillah” slips out, and I often recall the Moroccans and their similarities or differences with Americans as I consider this or that social theory or anthropological study. Via Facebook and email I’ve harbored my jealousy towards friends from the program still studying Arabic in Morocco, Jordan, and Egypt. I miss the wandering alleys of the old medina and getting to know shopkeepers through fierce bargaining, but I don’t plan on staying away for long. I’m applying for the CLS program as well as the Middlebury Language Summer program for this coming summer, and even if I don’t get either scholarship a friend tells me about a good Arabic school for a hundred dollars a week in Casablanca. In some ways I hope that’s what I’ll end up doing.
Inside the Mosque of Hassan II