Goodbye JFRC

Last night was my last night at the JFRC. I can't believe I spent most of it studying. It still feels unreal. I woke up this morning, showered, and sprinted down to the library already 20 minutes late for my 7am goal to start studying. I sat next to Preston which means I spent the better part of the morning joking around and drinking a cafe latte- which have begun to lose their effect. I think my body knows it's the end of the semester and is getting sick of my 18+ hour days. The exam was not as bad as I had expected, which was a blessing considereing how little I had studied. After lunch I started packing my bags. It was less like packing, and more like hastily shoving stuff into my duffle which was already bursting at the seams. My bags left Chicago with only the essentials, and were about 5 lbs underweight. I am scared to think about how overweight thay will be when I leave. I tried to enjoy my last mensa but it was difficult because I was filled with all kinds of emotions. I was relieved to be done with finals, trying to process the fact that I would never be eating mensa with these people again, and nervous for this coming weekend and the 3 weeks of traveling to follow. We joked, gossiped, and tried to avoid the inevitable fact that in only 2 hours I would be gone for good. With a stomach full of mensa and butterflies I managed to finish packing my bags, attend to some last minute details, and say my final goodbyes. I know I will be back at JFRC this Sunday but it will no longer be my home, or filled with all the people I have come to love over the past 4 months.

The car ride to Bolsona was over two hours, but well worth it. The town we are staying in is small and quite. Barbara and Giovanni seem to know everyone. The house we are staying in is at the top of a hill in the 'new' part of town. It has a great layout with a large open kitchen and living room that take up most of the ground floor. All the rest of the ground floor is made up of a small room, a bathroom, and several gardens and terraces. Upstairs there are two rooms and a bathroom. My room is plain, but it has a large, comfortable queen bed in the middle. The best part of the room is terrace which opens through two french doors adjacent to my bed. Barbara loves to garden so every terrace contains fresh, colorful flowers. There is a pink rose bush outside my window, and a small tree with large red flowers further down the terrace. That night we had an incredible meal of mozzarella di bufala e pomedore (buffalo mozzarella and tomatoes). It was by far the most Italian meal I have had in my life. It's 11pm now and I am exhausted, but excited to start the next leg of my adventures. I am off to a good night's sleep in my queen bed.

Happy Birthday Roma!

Today was the founding of Rome. There were many events going on in the city like staged gladiator battles, free entrance to certain museums, and fireworks over the Colosseum. I unfortunately was unable to participate because of finals studying. I guess it's the price you pay for writing 15 pages in one day :(

Italian Final

After a day of studying and binge eating prochuitto, oranges, and cookies I took my Italian final! Afterwards I had my last day of tutoring with Tomasso. I will miss his wonderful family. Especially his 'nonna' who is the epitome of sweet Italian grandmothers. They are a wonderful family, and I am so happy I had the chance to meet and spend time with them.

End of Semester Banquet

Tonight was the annual JFRC end of the semester banquet. It felt like high school. All of the girls had been out looking for new shoes and dresses for the occasion for weeks. We voted for superlatives. We even had a calcio (soccer) tournament the night before. People spent hours getting ready; getting their hair and nails done, painting on makeup, pouring wine into water bottles. It was like Homecoming but with a so-so group dinner component, terrible DJ, and overpriced bar. In case it wasn't obvious I wasn't a huge fan. Once the dancing started I knew I had to get out of there. I found my friend Joe who was just as uncomfortable as I with the super awkward dance floor. All I really wanted to do was spend my last few nights in Rome walking around on the beautiful cobblestones eating gelato and gazing, happy Roman drunk, at all the wonderful things I would never again get to see bathed in the yellow light of the streetlamps. We walked to the ruins of Cat Sanctuary ruins where I told Joe the story of Caesar's death on the steps of the senate. Joe and I reminisced about all the fun times we had in Rome, and reflected on what we had learned, how we would change, and what we wanted to take with us. Entranced in our conversation we stumbled across a small pastry shop where we got some delicious pastries with fresh pears (which were in season!) and walnuts. A killer combination. We ate them in front of the restaurant where the banquet was being held and watched the train wreck that was the exit of JFRC. I met up with Marija, Kieran, and Kaley outside and walked with them to Trastevere where I relaxed with a big Perroni in the middle of the piazza. I couldn't think of a better way to end one of my last nights in Rome.

Egyptian Belly Dance Performance

For the last three months I have devoted my Monday and Tuesday nights to learning the art of Egyptian belly dance. My teacher is a professional, and well known in the dance world. She taught us a belly dance, as well as a folk dance. My favorite was the fold dance because it was fun whereas the bell dance, while upbeat, told a story about unrequited love.

 

Fes

Our next stop was the city of Fes. The medina dates back to the 9^thcentury making Fes not only the religious capital, but also the oldest city in Morocco. We took a tour from a registered city guide (as recommended by a random man on the train!). The city is divided into 5 parts which contain their own shared over, Koranic School (Madrassa), mosque, and hammam.

Fes is also home to the largest and oldest tanneries in the country. The tanneries have been passed down from family to family since the 11^th century. Each co-op is made up of about 25 families. Each person in the family is utilized; from the young children who go around collecting pigeon poop to the adult tanners. It's a very labor intensive process and each skin takes a few months.

One of my favorite moments in Fes was spent outside the medina walls in a small square in a local neighborhood. It was just after lunch and Teresa, Nate, and I were sitting on the edge of a small garden in the middle of the square relaxing and watching the old men gossiping in their circles while the women hurried home with their arms full of groceries, or picking up children from school. Despite the warm weather everyone was dressed in traditional Islamic garb. The men were wearing long dress-like overcoats with round or pointy white hats. The women were dressed in traditional long dresses with head coverings. It was a stark contrast from the range of clothing seen in Marrakech. As people poured into the square from the alleys we noticed they most were eating sugar-covered donuts on a palm leaf string. They looked absolutely delicious so we decided to try some for ourselves. We followed the trail of donuts through the ally to a vendor selling them out of his cart. For a single diram we filled our mouths with the sweet, sugary, greasy dough that would put Crispy Creams to shame. When it comes to food, always follow the locals. In our experience they were always the tastiest and were extremely accommodating to tourists.

Speaking of accommodating, the Moroccans we met were very interested in what we thought of their country and took a lot of pride in it. They were always quick to recommend an area we had never heard of (how we choose our Atlas mountains trip), or offer us a place to stay with their relatives. At one point during our stay in Fes a man stopped us in the middle of the street to ask us what we thought of Morocco. Naturally my guard was up thinking this guy wanted something from us. We told him we had come from Marrakesh and what we had seen. He had a huge smile on his face all the time we were talking. When we finished, the man just said, "welcome to Morocco!" and walked away. I was quite shocked at how friendly people were. Teresa and I decided we had reverse culture shock from interacting with cold Americans all the time.

 

Majorelle Jardin and Camel Rides

We saw a lot of beautiful palaces, Mosques, etc. in Morocco, but my favorite place was the Moroccan Botanical Garden, Majorelle Jardin (or in حديقة ماجوريل‎ Arabic).

 

Joke: One of the Camels was named Bush (short for George W. Bush). When I asked the guy why the camel's name was Bush he said it's because he's usually the first in line in the caravan which means he's always chasing an Arab man through the desert.

Other Camels featured: Fifi, and Shakira

Like a mountian goat!

One of the things I wanted to do in Morocco was see the High Atlas Mountains. It's because of the High Atlas area that the entirety of Morocco isn't a desert.

On our way to the beautiful Ourika Valley

Pit Stops:

Beautiful Pottery Shards

Berber Apothecary:

How Moroccan oil is made

The Pharmacy

Learning about Berber life and culture in an authentic Berber village:

How flour is made

Mint Tea

Best for Last! Ourika Valley and Near-Death Climbing Adventures: