The Hammam and Eid

This past week was pretty quiet. I went to school, did homework, hung out with my friends, pretty much all of the stuff that I do during the semester in the US. I guess that means I'm finally settling into a routine. Just in time for Ramadan to end and have everything change...but we'll get to that later. That being said, I did have two interesting experiences this week, the first being my trip to the hammam and the second being Eid.

According to my Contemporary Moroccan Culture professor, every foreigner who visits Morocco has to write about the hammam. I see no reason to be an exception in this regard, so I'll tell you all about my visit to the hammam, or public baths, this past Friday. Evelyn and I arrived home from school and our sister Neda was ready and waiting to take us. Before we left, we gathered together all of our hammam accouterments. These include a mat or stool to sit on, black soap made from olives, a kees, or scrubby mitten, a pumice, shampoo, body wash, toothpaste, toothbrush, hairbrush, and any other personal hygiene products of your choosing. We also brought towels and a change of clothes for after the bath. Neda piled all of our stuff into a duffel bag and two buckets and we were off! We ran into several neighbors/family members along the way and all wished us a happy trip to the hammam, which is pretty standard Moroccan behavior. You thank God, or give good wishes before and after bathing, before and after eating, before and after taking a trip...I think you get the picture.

Upon arriving at the hammam, we payed our entrance fee, which was 11 dirhams, and procured several more buckets. We then proceeded into the changing room. Here's where things get a little uncomfortable for us North Americans. After stowing our bag on a shelf, Neda proceeded to strip right down to her panties, and Evelyn and I quickly followed suit. We then walked into the hammam itself. I have to say that I expected to be much more self conscious about washing myself in full view of other women wearing only my underwear, especially given that Neda and Evelyn are in much better shape than I am. I've never been ashamed of my body in any way, I happen to like it quite a lot with clothes on, but I've never felt the desire to reveal any more flesh than necessary, particularly in public. In reality, after the initial awkwardness, which I got over quickly, I did not feel uncomfortable at all. I can't really describe the sensation, because it is like nothing I've ever experienced before. I wouldn't say that the experience was liberating, or particularly profound in any way, I still won't be wearing shorts outside the house anytime soon (even in the US). All I can say is that being almost completely naked in front of people I'd never seen before in my life was actually totally fine, since we were all there to simply enjoy the process of getting clean. We all had the same bits, even if they were different sizes and different ages, and bathing in the same space was like the most natural thing in the world. One thing that this phenomenon does serve to emphasize is the incredibly sharp difference between private and public spaces in Morocco, and probably the Muslim world in general. Women who are normally covered by a hijab or djelleaba can wear what they want in the privacy of their own home (Ranya usually opts for short shorts and a tank top, and my friend says that even her more conservative host sisters usually wear pajamas in the house) and nothing at all in the company of other women, which is something that many women in the US would not be comfortable with.

Anyways, Neda, Evelyn, and I set up camp in the middle, or medium hot, room. The hammam has three rooms, the farthest back being the hottest and the one closest to the changing room the coolest. We put down our mat and stool and proceeded to fill the buckets up with a mixture of hot and cold water. We then doused ourselves with water and slathered ourselves with the black soap. This soap is apparently very good for the skin so we just sat for a couple of minutes letting the heat open our pores and the soap work its magic on our skin. It was lovely. Step two of the hammam process is washing to soap off and scrubbing oneself with the kees. Now, when I say scrub I mean scrub. You take this rough cloth and go at your skin in a way that takes off several layers of dead skin and leaves you all pink and tingly. This process is slightly painful and a little gross, but afterward you feel so wonderful. As I said in a previous post, living in Morocco means taking very short showers that are oftentimes few and far between, at least according to our Western sensibilities. This means that you don't get as clean as you might like, and certain parts of the body, such as feet, continue to get dirtier day by day, no matter how many showers you take. Going to the hammam means taking off all of the old, dirty skin, and becoming well and truly clean. It was an incredible sensation. My feet were almost unrecognizable they looked so good by the end of our trip!

After scrubbing all of our skin off, we used the water in the buckets to rinse off. We then soaped ourselves up with body wash, and rinsed again. Now bathing began to take a more familiar tone. I washed my hair with my shampoo, used a pumice to attack any lingering dirt on my feet, shaved my legs (hallelujah! first time in two weeks!) and brushed my teeth. Our trip ended with a body wash rinsed off with buckets of slightly cooler water. We then proceeded into the changing room where we toweled dry, changed into clean clothes, brushed our hair, and chatted a bit with the other women. All in all, the trip probably took about an hour, and I felt like a new person afterward. I was really, completely clean, relaxed, and ready to face another week in Morocco. I think that I need to make a trip to the hammam my new Friday ritual.

So, that's the hammam trip described in probably too much detail. I know that not everyone who reads this blog cares/wants to know about my body image or cleaning habits, but it's a rather important part of culture, so you'll just have to soldier through it! The other exciting occurrence of the week does involve me wearing clothes, though. This event is Eid al-Ftour (Eid of breaking the fast) or Eid soghreer (the small Eid). This Eid, or celebration, marks the ending of the month of Ramadan. My host family was so excited to see this Eid come. My dad kept saying how much he wanted to drink coffee in the morning, and on Sunday was very pleased to inform me that Ramadan was "finis" the next day. Our ftour Sunday night was a happy one with my host dad announcing that Ramadan was over with a huge grin on his face every ten minutes. It was great! Just an interesting side-note while talking about my host dad. Besides Ranya and Sarah he is quickly becoming the member of my family that I talk to the most. Twice this week we have spent the evening chatting in a mix of MSA, Darija, and French. It's great for my Arabic and he's a really nice guy who genuinely wants to know me better. I've really enjoyed our chats and hope they continue!

Back to Eid! This morning (which Evelyn and I have off from school), we woke up to the smell of our mother preparing tea and breakfast. Most of the family stumbled out of bed rather earlier than usual and sat down to break their fast in the daylight hours for the first time in a month. Our meal consisted of tea, a dense cake, and bheeer, or this spongy bread with holes in it that is soaked in honey. Our little cousin Khalid and his mother also joined us, which was great. Khalid was all dressed up in his little caftan and fez-like hat and was just about the cutest thing I've ever seen in my entire life. Breakfast was a prolonged affair with the women sitting around the table sipping tea and playing with Khalid.

After breakfast we headed to the house of some relatives and hung out for a while. Evelyn and I just stayed in the background, listening to the rapid fire Darija and enjoying the festive atmosphere. We returned to the house around noon, and my mom began to prepare lunch. I wandered into the kitchen and helped her make the salad. Now, many of you know that cooking is not my forte by any stretch of the imagination, and so "helping" really means that I mangled one tomato in the time it took my mom to expertly peel and slice three. I was much more successful in my efforts to assist with the dish washing, as I am an excellent dish dryer!

Lunch was also a festive affair with everyone sitting around the table laughing and enjoying being able to eat during the day. We had the salad and the most delicious chicken I've tasted since coming here. My host dad still insists that I eat way more than I want to, he says that there is no such thing as being full in Morocco, but I can usually get across that no means no after repeating it five or six times. My mom also backed up Evelyn and I last week when she chastised our dad, apparently telling him (as translated by Ranya), that we would get sick if we ate too fast.

The rest of the day was pretty slow. Evelyn and I watched TV with Ranya for a while and then did some homework in the evening. We though that we were going to visit more relatives with our mom, but her plans changed, so we ended up hanging out at home with Ranya's friends and eating dinner with the family, which was fine.

Now that Ramadan is over, everything is going to change for us AMIDEAST students. In some ways the change will be good. Cafes and restaurants will be open during the day, meaning that we will have new places to hang out and do homework. Museum hours will go back to normal, movie theaters will reopen, and we will no longer eat two meals at night. Other changes will be harder to adjust to. It will be much harder for us women to go out at night, as our schedules will once again be orientated around the daytime and sexual harassment will probably increase, as cat calling counts as breaking one's fast during Ramadan.

I know that Sharon, one of my most faithful readers, requested pictures in her last comment, and I will try to deliver this week, as well as describe my new non-Ramadan schedule.