Staying inside all day adds to my moodiness. I feel trapped by the walls and irritated by the lights. The open windows allowing fresh air into the house only make me feel resentful and mocked. I can see that outside it is a beautiful day. I know that all I have to do is get out of bed and go be a part of it. Yet something prevents me from doing anything. The sullen, angsty Maral urges me to stay inside and make it worse. Allow my feelings of dejection to fester and multiply. So I do.
One of my host aunts, Houriya, is always the one I see the most on these days because she stays at home all day too, except she is much more productive than I. She does laundry, cooks most meals and cleans the entire house daily usually singing in a striking, warbling voice which echos through the walls of the Kasbah. I never see her leave the house, although I know she must at some point. But for the most part, she stays inside or in the courtyard just outside of the door and goes about her daily duties without complaint.
As far as I can tell, she gets up early and eats breakfast before I'm even awake, and I usually wake up around 8:30am. She is usually the one to make Emilie and I our breakfast. She is quick to pick up on our habits and tastes. We can tell where we are meant to sit because Emilie's place always has the small glass tea cup and mine the zebra print coffee mug. Houriya knows I like milk in my coffee, but not too much. I don't like salt or cumin on my eggs but Emilie does. She notices everything.
(Houriya making cake)
As I sit at the kitchen table quietly eating my eggs, she is already busy washing dishes from the previous night and preparing for the days cooking. Depending on how chatty she is feeling she might ask me about my day.
Soon after breakfast is over she beings the cleaning of the entire house. Everything made of tile is washed down and the floors are swept and mopped. There's a solid hour every day where it is a hazard to walk from one room to the next because everything is so slippery, so it's generally a better idea to stay put.
After cleaning the house it's usually time for tea. Houriya has been up for hours working around the house but she smiles good naturedly at me as she pours my tea, constantly encouraging me to eat more milwee (which I have misspelled but more importantly is a type of bread which is sold on the street but which most families make at home as a warm filling midday or midnight snack for that matter). Usually by tea time I've found a reason to start feeling sorry for myself over some insignificant homework assignment or else just generally feeling resentful about the fact that I have to grow up and face the real world soon.
When I see Houriya sitting happily on her terrace enjoying a much deserved moment of relaxation I cannot help but feel a little ridiculous. This is her life everyday, who am I to feel suffocated? She cares for this house and maintains it and still has time to keep up on current events by reading the news online every evening. Although she spends so much time inside her own house she is hyper aware of the outside world and makes a point of educating herself.
She practices her English daily and will occasionally call for Emilie or I to come translate something on the computer for her. Usually it's a pop up claiming you can win a Green Card to the United States if you just answer the question who is the President of the United States: George W Bush or Hillary Clinton? No lie, I've seen this pop up several times now.
I can tell that when she was in school she was very studious and can't help but feel a slight twinge of regret that she no longer really has the opportunity to go to school. She could go to University but that of course requires money and the family requires someone to run the household so she is, in effect, stuck. If I feel that twinge, I can only imagine what she feels.
This is her life, day after day; and while I can't imagine it for myself, I respect her so much for doing it. I always knew it was hard work washing and cooking and taking care of people, but I never thought about the monotony of it or how physically and emotionally stressful it is to spend the entire day in the same house all the time. So many women in Morocco (and at home for that matter) have the job of running the house and watching Houriya repeat the same tasks over and over and never complain has given me a new found respect for that role.
medzema didn't give you that feeling of respect! I'm shocked! and how can you stay inside when its so beautiful there. It snowed in Boston (and more in CT). So go sit on the fucking beach for me love.
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