Bridal Shower

Today I went to a lovely Moroccan bridal hammam.

I suppose you could call it a literal bridal shower. My sweet friend Oumaima organized it and my friends from my study abroad program came. We went to the traditional Moroccan hammams (read this post to get a more detailed description). Apparently, the celebration of traditional Moroccan weddings begin the day before with the bride and her female friends and family going to the hammam and making sure her skin is soft and beautiful before her wedding day.

Unfortunately, my wedding is still a little more than a month away, so this hammam visit won't serve that purpose, but it was lovely spending time with friends celebrating here.

I received lovely gifts and it was fun sharing the joy and excitement of this upcoming stage with my friends here :)

Hello, My Name is Mejda.

If any of you have ever taken a foreign language, it's quite likely that you have received a new name. Maybe if you were learning Spanish you became "Pablo" or "Maria." During my first semester of Arabic, I was "Farah."

Here, in Morocco... I am Mejda.

During the first couple of days, my host family sat down and told me that I needed a Moroccan name. So they took turns throwing names out there to see which one the whole family liked. Finally, my host sister suggested "Mejda" and everyone oohed and aahed. I had been named. I was told that it meant "glorious." I could handle that.

So from then on out, I've been known as Mejda at home and at the big house. Turns out, however, that another team member was also named Mejda. So, I became Mejda Wahed (one) and she became Mejda Djudsh (two).

Sometimes I hesitate when I'm I ring the doorbell and am asked, "Shkoon?" Right. I'm Mejda. Say Mejda. But other than that, I've learned to respond to the name. I've even used it with some of the kids we volunteer with so that they can use an easier name. Viviana is a bit difficult, I've learned.

However, one of our teachers here is horrified that many of us have received Moroccan names. He's mortified. How could we have been stripped of our identities and simply have another one slapped on over us?

I've never felt stripped of any of my identity. But its made me think. Is it simply a matter of convenience? Is it another form of cultural immersion? Is it something else?

How bout you? Have you ever been given another name while learning a language?

Three Weeks

I leave three weeks from today.

I feel absolutely no incentive to blog about anything. What's there to talk about? I feel like whatever there is to say, has been said... which clearly is erroneous. Yet, I still lack any and all incentive to sit and blog about Morocco.

I cannot believe that my time here is over. Four months really isn't a long time at all. And yet, I'm ready for home. I'm ready for the next stage. I'm ready to see Lucas and not have to say goodbye again. I'm excited about beginning a new stage of life where things finally aren't so clearly temporary.

And yet, this time has been beautiful. I have loved it.

I may be on and off for a while... going to go soak up my last three weeks!