Bunnies and Chocolate

I have fond memories of Easter growing up. Mostly revolving around eggs. Painting eggs, easter egg hunts (while singing christmas songs - apparently my sister and I were confused children), posing with the easter bunny, cadbury eggs, jelly beans, so much chocolate I'm amazed I never feel into a sugar coma. The typical American experience, I would think.

Here in Central Europe there are many similarities. Images of baby chicks, bunnies and chocolate shaped everything are everywhere. Painting eggs is a tradition as it is in the States but it's done in an elaborate fashion here and is an art form in its own right.

Compare the above to the Easter eggs I made this year. I will admit I did not spend much time on mine. It was more just to do it.

Here in Prague they even have what I've heard is not traditional but prevalent Easter Markets. The below photos are from the market near our apartment.

The whole atmosphere in Prague around Easter feels to me like a celebration of the Spring season and it is even more enjoyable with the work holiday it provides for the Monday following Easter. Apparently Easter Monday is the true holiday in Central Europe, but it is my co-workers unequivocal least favorite holiday. When it came to deciding who would work the Monday holiday both co-workers said, "I'm working. I hate Easter Monday. I don't want to go home." When I asked why they mentioned being hit with a stick and/or drenched with water. Say what? How did we go from eating too much chocolate and painting eggs to being wet and beaten?

Apparently the Central European Easter tradition involves unmarried women being awoken by being drenched with a bucket of water or hit with a pomlazka which is a braided whip made from pussy willow twigs and decorated with ribbons. All this is supposed to bring luck and fertility in the new year. These willow whips are on display and available for purchase everywhere in Prague at the moment from the Easter markets to the grocery stores.

There are variations of this tradition. I've read that the ladies are whipped on the legs in the morning and then in the afternoon they dump water on the men. But in Slovakia the ladies get water thrown on them in the morning possibly combined with the whipping. And in return for this blessing the ladies are supposed to give them men easter eggs and chocolate treats. Either way to me it seems like the ladies are getting the short end of the stick. I can't really blame the girls for not wanting to be at home for these particular traditions. 

Thankfully for me my Easter traditions still just include painted or dyed eggs, chocolate and enjoying the Spring weather. G Unit and are will be making our first trip to the beer garden today in celebration of Easter. I think that's better than being wet, shivering and having whip stung legs, but maybe that's just me.

Happy Easter!

Another Czech Language Lesson

The word for yes in Czech is 'ano'. Which to me sounds like "ahhhhh, no". I constantly therefore feel like I'm saying no when I say yes. Someone suggested that I use the more informal 'jo' which translates to 'yeah'.

I love this language in it's simplest form. (In it's more complicated form it's damn hard) When else would I get to say 'ahoj' and 'jo' in daily life and not sound like a retard? So here I am with another word that I get to use on a daily basis that makes me giggle to myself every time I say it thinking of the movie Rocky and how my sister hated growing up with Adrienne as a name in the 80s. Awesome.

Arrrrr Matey!

You know what I love about the Czech Republic? Their work for 'Hi' is Ahoj as in 'Ahoy Landlubber!'

It's like I'm on a pirate ship every day. I keep looking out for sails, masts and canons. Alas no pirates ships are in sight in a land locked country but everyday secretly, I add Matey to the end of my ahoj greetings and giggle silently to myself.

It's the little things people.

Sometimes....

I am an idiot. I bought some apples from a street vendor. He totally cheated me. It was the first time I'd done this. I was walking home from running an errand. I needed to get some apples. I didn't want to go to the grocery store with the hundreds of people and enormous lines. I had happened to walk by this guy and the fruits and veggies looked good. No one else was there. A quick stop and I could be on my way.

I forgot where I was and that in Marrakech they try to steal you blind and that you need to haggle. He told me the price and I was shocked by it, 42 dhirams which is about $5 and about 4 times what it should be. (I know Garren, I'm a moron) I can only justify my stupidity in paying this price with the explanation that I usually go to the grocery store where the prices are fixed and I just came back in London where I have no need to haggle. I stupidly paid him while still puzzling over the price and not realizing I needed to dispute it. As I walked away I immediately became angry at myself as I realized I'd played the role of the stupid foreigner perfectly.

In the scheme of things it's only $5 which if I was going to be robbed blind $5 is not the end of the world, but I just hate that I have to haggle (read argue/have a confrontation) with people. I hate that they just can't give me a fair price and let me be on my way. Maybe I'm just a naive Westerner (or really an avoid confrontation at all costs type of person) but I hate that buying a few apples can turn into a whole ordeal. Next time I'll let it turn into a whole ordeal. Next time I will be prepared for them to try to treat me like a dumb foreigner. Next time they had better watch out.

Next time I will go to the grocery store even with its immense lines to avoid having to deal with this.

ugh. idiot.

Yes I am American

Being an American abroad is a weird experience. Especially with such a multi-national group as the one I work with. Anytime a comment is made regarding Americans I tend to get sly looks from the people making the comments, I think to make sure I'm not taking offense. And being outside of the country it's interesting to see what types of things they make fun of America for or really just the types of things they tend to comment on.

I also get lots of "you're so American". When I was younger and it was my French family telling me this, I used to take offense as it was like they were trying to point out how different I was from the rest of them, but now, I dunno.... Growing up with European parents I always used to feel like I highlighted my European background around others, because my family did not do things the way every other American family did. For example one Thanksgiving we had Mac and Cheese because my parents forgot the store closed early on Thanksgiving Day. There’s nothing wrong with it but it’s definitely different from every other American family planning a big get together for the day. Well here I'm obviously not European enough for actual Europeans so I feel like I need to just embrace my Americanness or at least not be ashamed of it.

Last night was an interesting test of this cultural split. Garren and I had some American friends that we met last week over for dinner along with one of our friends from work, who obviously is European. Last week when we got together with these girls I revealed in being around Americans and laughing at the same things, missing the same things and having the same cultural reference points. Last night while I still enjoyed this I could see from a European prospective how loud American’s can be as well as how uninformed and unaware we can come across as. It’s not that we actually are this way, I mean anyone who moves to Marrakech sight unseen is culturally adventurous and wants to know more about other places in the world, but in general the American culture is very self centered. You don’t get a lot of information about other countries either in school or on the news. It’s something that you need to actively seek out as it is not presented much in our day to day lives.

I feel like I’m babbling here but what I’m trying to say here is that a different times during the night I was uncomfortable knowing when my American side might be seen in a negative light and when the European one might be looked down upon exemplified by other people. It was a strange phenomenon and I found myself providing small commentary to clarify certain statements made by others.

For the most part I’ve found that I like both sides that I’ve grown up with, but that I am more comfortable with the American one. For obvious reasons. Maybe with more time here in Marrakech and around my co-workers my European side will make a stronger appearance. Probably not. And I’ve realized that while I enjoy visiting other places and meeting different types of people, America really is home. Or maybe that’s just the homesickness talking. I mean it has only been less than 3 months since we left. Maybe with more time here in Marrakech the thought of moving to Europe will have more appeal than moving back to the States, but for now I’m enjoying Marrakech as much as I can and looking forward to a time when Garren and I will move back home. With a lot of saved money and some amazing trips as silly, uninformed and unaware Americans under our belt.

Really?!

A few weeks ago, I was offered hash twice, on the same day, by the same man (Garren believes), at different times of the day.

It's not a strange occurrence. Locals seem to think it's the only reason tourists come to Morocco. Not me. I mean really do I look like the smoking type? I mean seriously. Little me with her hair up in a pony tail her glasses on because she was too lazy to put in her contacts and being sick on top of it? I look like the type that will risk time in a Morocco prison for some Kif?

I was shocked both times it happened mostly because this man looked so clean cut. Why this should shock me I don't know. I think it's because usually when we're offered Kif (and it does happen quite a bit) it's by a young guy in jeans and a T-shirt. This time it was a middle aged man in a djellaba and yellow slippers. Very bizarre. I mean really you walk by the type of person who usually is trying to ignore your existence (at least that is the impression I get being a woman here a lot) and out of the blue they mumble, "Smoke" at you. It requires a double take. At least for me. I was stunned for a second or two before I told Garren what the man had said. His reaction? "The guy in the yellow slippers?!" And you think after I stared dumbfounded for a while the first time he wouldn't have bothered to try a 2nd time. Or at least maybe he would have tried to pass by Garren instead. This all happened near where the "hop on, hop off" tour bus stops.

Since then Garren has found out that the guy hangs out and wlks around this intersection a lot. He even had an encounter more than just where "smoke" was mumbled, but I'll let him relay that story if he wants. In the meantime, while walking around Marrakech I will continue to ignore any comments sent my way.

It looks like a Lime

Garren and I made stir fry the other night. The recipe courtesy of Martha Stewart called for limes. So at the store Garren and I found two limes (small round green looking citrus things) had them weighed and ticketed and threw them in our cart along with all our other groceries.

This is not a strange occurrence as Garren regularly buys limes for our G&Ts. Last night as we were preparing said stir fry Garren cut open the lime to reveal, an orange.

Maybe it's just a strangely colored lime? Nope smells like orange. We cut open the 2nd one to reveal the same thing. We substituted lemon instead. The lemon thankfully was lemony when we cut it open.

Just another thing to prepare for in Morocco. Sometimes the limes are not limes. And always always wash your veggies and fruits. It's amazing how dirty food really is when you don't have American Grocery Marketers making them look all shiny and clean. Who knew they did that?