Posts tagged moroccan life
Bissara | Moroccan Split Pea + Fava Bean Soup

There is some strange relationship between me and the taxis in Tangier. It is rare that I have a normal, uneventful ride- usually there is some happening or detail about it that is worthy of a humorous retelling. At least half of my Morocco-related stories start with the phrase, “so I was in a taxi the other day…”

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Why Everyone Should Have the Experience of Being Foreign At Some Point in Their Life

There is a certain fact about myself that may seem rather obvious, but is something that I come face-to-face with on a daily basis. I am never going to be Moroccan. I can learn Darija to the best of my ability, I can learn how to cook tagines and couscous and know where to get the best zlefa de bissara in the city, know how to haggle with shop owners and carry on a decent conversation with my taxi driver. I could, I suppose, dye my hair darker, wear a djellaba every day, wear thicker make-up, but really none of this is ever going to make me native to this country. I will always be an outsider. A foreigner. Gauwria.

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Moroccan Harira + Looking Back On My First Ramadan

Tangier is, by nature, a noisy place. At all hours of the day and night there are cars and trucks rumbling around, mopeds backfiring, people yelling, whether in enthusiastic greeting or heated debate, and absolutely no one is ever shy with their horn. For this reason, it is impossible to forget my first Ramadan in Morocco when I heard something I had never heard before in this city- silence. 

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Moroccan White Beans + Greens in Tomato Sauce (Loubia ma3 Silk) + The Melancholy of Tangier

“Nothing evokes melancholy like cities do” -Tara Isabella Burton, The Geography of Melancholy, American Reader …And oh, the melancholy of Tangier. I have always loved that word- melancholy. It sounds particularly poetic and romantic to the ear, and yet to feel it is quite another matter. Lately this city has been sucking me into a lazy, slouching form of this feeling

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A Story in Language Learning + Humility

“It can be safe to say that when we learned to speak to, and listen to, rather than to strike or be struck by, our fellow human beings, we found something worth keeping alive, worth possessing, for the rest of time.” -Eudora Welty. Growing up in Minnesota, language was something I generally took for granted. I never had any problems communicating what was needed, asking for help or using my words to connect with others.

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