Marrakesh!

My Riad's courtyard

Mohammed trying to sell me some carpet and showing me Moroccan hospitality.

Musical performance in the plaza!

After yet another of Sadek's wonderful, nutritious and delicious morning juice/smoothie concoctions and a relaxing morning in the "palais nomade" (their nickname for their home), I was off on my travels...alone. I was surprised by how thrown I was by Christine not being able to join me. It was strange because really it was only about 48 hours that our plans were in place, and yet I had gotten really excited about the idea of having a traveling partner, and especially an old friend to reconnect with along the way!

But I packed up my small backpack (thanks Ambesa!) and set of for an adventure, a day later than I planned. The train left about an hour late and I went in the first class car and got settled. There were two other Americans in the compartment. It turned out that one lived in Senegal and one in Tacoma Park, Maryland and both worked for the same NGO doing micro finance work in Africa. They were on their way to Marrakech to run in the marathon on Sunday. Oh, there is a marathon on Sunday! Good to know. They kept to themselves for awhile but I broke into their conversation at one point and once they heard my story about why I was in Morocco we started talking more. In fact, the one woman had less than a week before found out she was pregnant again after a couple miscarriages, so she wouldn't actually be doing the marathon after all. It was fun to talk about Lila's birth with them and about what her options were in Senegal.

I arrived to Marrakech and sure enough the madness began with "guides" approaching, taxi offers, etc. The folks at the Riad I had booked at were picking me up since they said I'd never find it on my own (and oh how true that proved to be later in the night!). I got dropped off at the edge of the medina (old city) and was met by a young guy with a wheeled cart and we turned off the main path and began a series of twists and turns down little alleys and I realized I was going to be spending a lot of time kinda lost and disoriented here. When we got to the riad, it had a little door you had to crouch to climb through. It was quite lovely, with a beautiful courtyard and three floors of rooms, terraces, lounges all in traditional style. Unfortunately, there was no one there who spoke English and the owner wasn't there and now (in retrospect) I realize that I didn't get the most out of my riad experiences in Marrakeck due to communication difficulties and a lack of the hospitality I had heard about and experienced later in my trip. But it was lovely and everyone was very nice, I just wish I spoke more French or Arabic! I had the first of what would be about 5 pots of Moroccan whiskey (i.e. mint tea) and a few small bowls of nuts, apricots, raisins, etc. And then was shown to my room. It was beautiful and the bed was so comfortable with the most amazing thick wool blanket. It was basically underground with no window, but big majestic doors opening into the main courtyard (which meant it was a bit noisy in the morning, but nice and dark for sleeping!). So much attention to detail was given in every place i stayed--by far, more interesting than any fancy hotel that costs the same or much more. And there was a great, hot, big shower!

After resting for a bit I was anxious to get out and see the medina and the infamousDjemâa el Fna square before it got dark. Getting to Marrakech at 3pm on a Friday wasn't the best idea as it didn't leave a lot of time to get oriented before the nighttime, but I figured I'd be okay. Another tip I'd give folks is to be sure you have a bunch of change and small bills before heading out. Once I was out in the world and realized I only had 100 and 200 Dh it was a bit hard to function in the streets and souks for small things and to pay the folks wanting a couple Dh for a photo, etc etc. I also realize it would have made a lot of sense for me to have mapped my way to the riad from the main street-they gave me a map but it wasn't very clear (as I found out later--don't worry, everything turns out just fine!)

So off I go, meandering through the medina, walking around smiling and practicing my ever-expanding Arabic vocabulary : ) I had brought a small keychain compass per the suggestion in Lonely Planet, but it didn't really help me much as it took me 2 days to figure out my orientation based on landmarks in the city. But I knew that I'd either find the edge of the medina and take a taxi or find the square or something would happen in the 2 1/2 hour I had til dusk. Walking through the souks (market) and the city was an assault on the sense...new sounds, smells, sights, sensations. The call to prayer ringing out through the alleys, the warnings to get the hell out of the way from the incredibly brave bicyclists and motorbikes, the clomping of the donkeys hooves pulling their loads through the labrinyth. Giant piles of dates, apricots, walnuts, almonds, lavender, tumeric, cumin, paprika, rose petals, henna appear around almost every turn, as do all kinds of animal parts and cuts of meat, and live chickens and piles of fish and shellfish and eels that I'll refrain from describing here-- sheep heads factor in big in this culture I'll just say.
Saw a few camel heads too.

I realize that I'm not really headed in the direction of the touristy souks but more in the everyday market. I've figured out a way to have my camera poised and ready within the sleeve of my sweater without it being visible and hanging out all the time. Over time I master the art of taking covert digital pictures as I walk, along with the plethora of photos I shoot out in the open. While I'm attracting a lot of attention, folks here are mostly leaving me alone or just greeting me with the standard "Salam malekum" or "Le bes" (how are you?). Then I turn a corner and it all changes, about 10 guys come up to me trying to convince me to go see the sights with them-- they don't want to be paid or anything--just to show me around. Sure...I manage to turn them all away but a few minutes later another guy comes up and we start talking in Spanish. That is the most frequent approach for me here-- hola que tal? or guapa or something like that. If folks aren't sure if I'm Moroccan they mostly at least think I'm Spanish. I give in and figure at least this guy can hopefully get me to a major landmark.

After winding through the medina for about 20 minutes we end up at a leather tannery. The tanneries are a smelly place-- there is a pile of mint by the entrance to help you get through it. This is not the pretty colored vats you see in the photos in the guidebooks. This is the grimy, hard work, end of the day, want to get out of here kinda vibe. The process used in Morocco has not changed much in the past several centuries and it is not particularly safe from a health standpoint for the workers. I find myself following my guide through the tannery, walking on the cement between the vats and get the up close and personal view of what the workers are doing. We chat with some of the workers, climb up on a roof above with a good view of the city and then of course I'm taken into a souk for the hard sell. At this point I'm not looking to shop yet (that frenzy comes later and once the seal is broken it is over my friends--so much for using the money for doing the birth for getting a much-needed crown--carpets and leather goods and pottery are much more fun!) However, my host, Mohammed, is very gracious and shows me the goods in his store, lays out a bunch of carpets for me explaining their differences, serves me some yummy tea and beseeches me to enjoy my time in Morocco even if I don't buy. There is such an art to bargaining here--and it isn't one of my best skills I must say, especially when I'm on my own. But I end up buying a cool bag made of old carpet remnant, for what I'm sure is way too much, but is at least less than half than what we started with. I leave and we are all happy.

After a somewhat heated exchange with my "guide" about giving him money --not for him-- but for the folks in the tannery, and trying to get pointed in the right direction for the square, I'm on my own again. I must say, it was fun to be speaking Spanish and to be understood, given my proclivity thus far for responding in Spanish to Arabic and French.

In spite of my guide not getting me all the way to the square, I find it and breath a sigh of relief. And then the real craziness begins. It is, to use the word that is most often paired with the Djemâa el Fna, a spectacle to behold. And it is cold! Real cold. This is the high desert (similiar to Taos, NM) and a cold spell that will continue for most of my time there has just blown in. As I circle the square (can you do that?) to get my bearings and take it in, I can feel the heat being pulled out of my body through my shoes. I have a good system in place though with my layers and my valuables, and I have to say that for as often as I was approached or greeted by men or kids or elderly folks looking for money, I never felt threatened or like anyone was going to try to steal my stuff or anything. In general I found that Moroccans are incredibly friendly folks, very affirming of my lame attempted to communicate in anything other than English, very willing to help and etc.

I get my first of about 25 glasses of fresh squeezed orange juice from the OJ vendors-- they all try to cajole to their stand with enthusiatic gestures and sounds. I love the orange juice in Morocco-- it is so sweet and robust and cheap! A 10 or 12 oz glass is only about 3 Dh (or 25 cents) in the square (but grapefruits juice is 10 Dh in case you were wondering). The snake charmers are at work, there is live music everywhere, the water sellers with their crazy get ups are rolling about, there are monkeys dancing, henna decorating, wares being sold. Strangely, I don't see too many tourists or travelers, and those I do see don't seem to speak English or aren't very friendly. I am wishing Christine was here with me right now, but take a deep breath and keep going. About every 10 seconds a guy comes up to me "Bon soir" "Ca Va?" "Hola, que tal?" "hello" "espanola? italiana? americana?" "welcome" "bienvendia" "do you need a husband?" "first time in Morocco" "Le Bes?" becomes the chorus of my evening. I practice my "la shokron" (no thank you) and "safi" (that's enough) and occasionally "sird" (get away), salam-ing away, trying my best to not be cold but not too welcoming either. It is all so amusing and annoying at once-which makes it hard for me not to smile because I love to smile. But that of course, exacerbates the issue as my smile attracts more attention. So I strive to master the art of "smiling on the inside" as Aurelia has instructed me. That helps some, but over the course of my time traveling here, I realize that if I every need a self-esteem boost on a purely superficial physical attraction level this would be the place to come.

I wind through the food stalls in the square, because I'm getting a bit hungry and because I have someone to seek out there per Trish's recommendation, and because I'm hoping that I'll maybe meet some folks or be invited to join someone for dinner or invite someone to join me, etc. I am equipped with the knowledge that I am looking for stall 42 or 142 run by a large (by Moroccan standards) woman named either Fatihah or Rhadiya. This, as it turns out, it more than enough information to zero in on my target! Rhadiya is a badass. She rules the roost of her stall and has about 10 men running around waiting on folks, helping cook, etc. I order a bunch of Moroccan salads, eggplant, olives, bread, and a veggie tagine and take in the scene. The food is yummy, and way more than I can eat on my own. My waiter is very sweet, perhaps overly affectionate, but I'm trying to just take in the whole vibe and roll with it. No other traveler types sit down with me and after a bit I decide to move on my way. But first I do notice a Japanese man with a Spearhead patch on his jacket and think about trying to talk to him, but the other guy he is with seems a bit tripped out on something (I find out later that the other dude is a local who is a drug addict and often does interpreting work for Japanese tourists as he lived in Japan for some time. And I am glad I stayed away from them).

I continue around the square and the greetings and solicitations from a spectrum of men continue. After about 20 minutes I decide I'm going to either hang out with someone or head back to the riad. A young guy who was particularly persistent and seemed harmless enough won the prize of my company for the evening. His name is Khalid, he's 26, from the medina, a cook for one of the hotels and a nice guy. He speaks minimal English but is trying hard to communicate. It is freezing outside at this point so we go to a cafe with heaters for a pot of tea and chat the best we can about his life, my life, why I'm in Morocco, our families and etc. It's a Friday night and he asks me if I'd like to go see some live music with him in the new city (Villa Nouvelle) and I thought "why not?" and got him to agree to get me safely back to my riad afterwards and that I didn't want to be out too late. So we walked the 30 minutes or so to the new city and through much of the new city to "Club Montecristo". It was a sweet place, swank but not overdone and very different than anything I'd seen in the medina. The band that was playing currently was covering "My Way" and then segued into a Zeppelin song and several other amusing covers of American songs. I'm sipping on my gin and tonic and noticing that "wow, these Moroccan women sure do wear a lot of makeup and get really dressed up!". I share this observation with Khalid who kinda blushes and proceeds to explain to me that the Moroccan women in the club are...prostitutes. Lovely. I look around more and start seeing fishnet stockings, and stillettos and very racy outfits and it starts making sense. He assures me that it is fine for me to be there because I'm with him. And to be fair, there are several other foreign women travelers around too. The band changes over and starts playing Gnawa music with a really good beat and it is time to dance a bit and forget about the surroundings for awhile. Again, this place is really nice--not seedy at all-- this is just one part of the culture as a result of the very strict rules regarding male/female relations in this country. It feels great to dance to this live music and I feel lucky to be exposed to this part of Marrakech's social culture as it isn't something I would have come upon on my own. But after another hour I'm ready to go and after a brief visit to the second floor DJ scene (where I boogied down to "Last Night a DJ Saved my Life"), we caught a taxi back to the medina and my riad. Which was easier said than done...even though I had a map, it was hard for the taxi driver to find the right place to drop us off. We must have driven around for over 40 minutes! I was not panicking but was getting a little worried. After consultation with several other taxi drivers we finally found the right spot! Hooray! And now, the next challenge-- finding my way (with the help of Khalid) to the actual riad through the maze of the medina. We followed the first couple turns successfully, but then missed a turn, hit a dead-end, backtracked and tried again. We did this about 3 or 4 times and right when Khalid was offering for me to stay at his house in the room with his mom and sister, we tried another way and I spotted the construction work that was around the corner from my place and with a big sigh of relief, the small door to my riad appeared. I thanked him for sticking with me, and he asked me to call him tomorrow, to which I replied "Inshallah"--if God wills--(the Muslim/Moroccan version of my Italian grandmother's "If God spares me") and happily returned to my lovely room and the best bed in Morocco.

door marrakesh

door marrakesh
Originally uploaded by partera.

rahida

rahida
Originally uploaded by partera.

high atlas

high atlas
Originally uploaded by partera.

henna maker

henna maker
Originally uploaded by partera.

this is ali s uncle

Flickr

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Neti neti! Change of plans again and other thoughts...

Nayla, Zoe and Kai at their nana's!

Hassan II mosque

The happy family!

It is amazing, I had done such a good job at not looking beyond the birth (and thus the possibility that I would not get to travel much beyond the greater Casablanca area) that I really didn't read much about Moroccan in any books. Once the opportunity to travel came up however, I soon found that I have about 3 months worth of backpacking aspirations and needed to be more realistic about a nice 7-9 day vacation rather than be in the mindset of a long-term backpacker. With the help of Trish, Sadek, Aurelia, Amine and Jess (my little posse of friends and family here!), I think we've come up with a great trip!

The postpartum period has been quite blissful for Aurelia, Sadek and Lila so far. Mama is still riding high from the birth, baby is contented, and papa is very much in love with the ladies of the house! Breastfeeding is going well--both Sadek and Aurelia are amazed at how big her breasts have become with the milk coming in--yesterday when I visited they had made a comment about it and I assured them they would be bigger today, and indeed I was right! Lila is nursing well, and today had her first of many adorable little outfits on (she had just been held skin-to-skin thus far).

I've been enjoying time at the beach. Walks with Trish and Kai along the ocean in the morning, some yoga, off to visit mom and baby in the city in the afternoon, some time with the girls early evening, and often hanging out at Jess's at night, doing work or being online or just hanging out listening to music or playing music. Wednesday night was amusing--three surfers (two Moroccans and one French) stopped by for various reasons over the course of a couple hours. One guy gets help with his English class homework from Jess. He's made a percussion instrument from a ceramic jug-- it is pretty cool. I took a video of it actually but forgot to snap a photo too. We helped him write a letter about why he wants to learn English (the bottom line of which is to be able to talk to the surfers who come to Dar Buazza and fall in love with an American woman!). He brought Jess a tupperware container of about 200 sea urchins that his aunt (I think?) prepared-- apparently some Moroccan specialty-either in cuisine or folk medicine. Was a bit (in surfer speak) gnarly. Then the other Moroccan man came in and he has beautiful dreads that go from brown near his scalp to a bright blonde at their ends, and I realized these were the two guys I've watched surfing on more than one occasion in the past couple weeks, and who I found watching me do yoga outside the cottage one morning. I've been somewhat hesitant to talk to men on the beach here (for many reasons), but wish I had known they spoke a little English so I could have met them earlier, but will be sure to chat them up and practice some English and Arabic when I see them again.

I had a very interesting experience at lunch yesterday. On Wednesdays, Trish and Amine and the girls have lunch at Amine's mother's house (Amine's mom and Sadek's mom are sisters and Sadek and Aurelia also generally go to his mom's on Wednesday's too). I was invited to join them today but Trish "forgot" to prepare me for the event. After practicing my Arabic on the crowded car ride to the city with Z'neb (Kai's babysitter) a big shift occurred once we got to Anfa. Amine's mom, Jolie, lives in a beautiful old home with a lot of interesting Moroccan and Spanish art and furniture and with one of the most gorgeous, lush, established private gardens in all of Morocco (due in large part to Sadek's plants and talents!). Their routine is to go for a formal lunch around 1pm and then the girls have French lessons in the afternoon (in the summer they all play by the pool in the middle of the garden but not this time of year). It was just a big change in atmosphere from what I am used to-- a bit stuffy and formal and kind of disconnected. I was thinking it was because I was there and there were some language issues, or they were uncomfortable because they didn't know me, but apparently that is just the way it is at these lunch affairs. But the food was lovely and abundant and traditional and I got to speak Spanish with Amine's mom and show them pictures of the baby. She is enamoured of her grandchildren and it was culturally and class-wise and cuisine-wise a good thing to experience.

Plus, we were crowded in the CRV on the way up, so I shared the front passenger seat with Z'neb, Kai's babysitter. And since we were in such close quarters, I thought it to be a good opportunity to practice some Arabic and quadrupled my vocab on the 30 minute drive (not hard to do when your starting number is 5!). The following day I also had a chance to practice when Mohammed drove me to the Hassan II mosque so I could (finally!) take my tour. He speaks a little English (i.e. much more than I speak Arabic) but not so much that we could have a conversation, so pointing to or miming things and getting the phrase in Arabic was more fun for both of us. He got quite a kick out of my attempts to pronounce some things -- Arabic is an absolutely beautiful language, but has so many subtelties and nuances in sound and pronunciation-- it can be quite difficult. I get a kick out of my attempts at jotting phrases down phonetically. Some of my favorites are: neti neti (basically, "uh oh", or "oh, shit!", mac kane mushil "no problem", B'zef "too much", "schwia-- little/less. I've also learned how to say "without meat" "without chicken", etc. to which Mohammed responded "what do you eat?". At this point I have about 50 words and phrases in my personal notebook, along with an Arabic phrasebook. Of course, now I'm actually heading to the more touristy parts of Morocco where more folks speak English. Interestingly, I've also noticed myself understanding a bit more French these past few days...hardly conversant or anything, and can't really speak much more than when I came (though to be fair to myself, a bit more!)-- but it is cool. Not so much that, for example, when I was waving to and walking towards a surfer in Dar Bouazza that looked so much like the drummer English-learning guy I met last night mentioned above, and then realized once I got closer it was totally not him and tried to explain that I thought he was someone else--we had an absolute blockage on communication. Neti neti! After a few attempts I walked away saying "Ca va!", "mac kane mushkil" and "inshallah" (as God wills). Language acquisition is so wonderful and I hope someday to be immersed for a long period of time somewhere to really learn another language again.

My friend Christine can't come after all. I woke up this morning to check on her flight status and instead found a litany of emails "URGENT: I AM NOT ON THE FLIGHT!" and "FLIGHT CANCELLED!". She had gotten her passport renewed and the office person either put the stamp in the wrong place, or with the wrong date-- anyway, something was not in order enough that in this post 9/11 world they would not let her on the flight and out of the country. So our last minute synchronicity suddenly fell into discord. Along with the gifts and goodies from the states that she was smuggling in for my friends here (lots of Dagoba chocolate for my fellow chocoholics here, 10 lbs of coffee for Amine, Tapatio taco sauce for Jess, etc) It is a bit sad and disappointing for both of us (of course, I get to be sad here in Morocco and she is in New Jersey-sorry Christine!) and I had shifted into excitement about and expectation of traveling with an old friend and re-kindling our friendship (which we plan to do once I get back). And spiritually, I being open to the message that I just need to go with the flow, get out there in the country and see what happens (with caution and mindfulness and awareness- don't worry mom and dad!). As Sadek said when I told him of the news this morning (I was particularly excited for them to meet each other with their common interests in gardening, plants and sustainability), "well, this leaves more rooms for surprises!". Inshallah.

Baby Lila is just fabulous, as is her mother and father. She has changed so much and is continuing to unfold into her little baby self. She had her first video skype call with her grandparents in France, and I am told she performed for them just beautifully. She's breastfeeding well, the parents have had some good discussions about what they need from each other in this early postpartum period, and I continue to be impressed by the beauty and openness and grace with which Aurelia and Sadek are approaching new parenthood-a process I am getting to witness firsthand even more than usual in my work as midwife. Aurelia and I were hanging out in her bedroom for a few hours last night, talking, sharing, jotting down helpful hints and reminders for when I'm away--a typical enough scene for me at a postpartum visit--but here I was in my bathrobe, fresh out of the shower, needing to be mindful of not pulling aside my robe to demonstrate a breastfeeding technique. This is the most time I've spent with a "cleint" this soon after the birth--actually living with them some, and being dependent on them in some ways not typical for me. It has revealed some new insights into what folks are going through and how there are things I can help prepare them for and assist with, and others they need to figure out in their own way and time.

On another note, while we were talking, Aurelia was showing me a gift from a friend who she described as the "really fat woman", and when I told her (knowing who she was referring to) that I thought it was a bit much to call her "really fat", maybe a little on the larger side, but not really fat, she remarked "Oh yes, but you are an American. That is as fat as we get here!" Ahh, to be known as the land of the fat and really fat....

Speaking of over-indulgence, as I mentioned, I went to tour the incredible, one of the wonders of the world in modern architecture, incredibly massive Hassan II (a recent King) Mosque. It is the third largest mosque in the world (after Mecca and Medina) and its worship area can fit up to 25,000 (20,000 men, 5,000 women). There is a lot of controversy about the mosque here-- it is right on the ocean over what used to be a slum and therefore displaced a lot of poor people, many people were killed during its construction, which amazingly happened over just 6 years of 10,000 craftsmen and 3000 laborers working in shifts 24/7-- literally, it was built by public subscription--i.e. everyone in the country paid for it whether they wanted to or not, to the tune of 600 million. But it is truly magnificent and the workmanship and art and craft put into it is so incredible--you just don't see things built like this anymore really. And all the materials, with two exceptions (the 57 gigantic Venetian glass chandeliers and some pure white marble) are from within Morocco. The entire complex is huge, right on the ocean, very dramatic and striking against the blue blue sky and the crashing waves. While I certainly understand people's discontent with the endeavor and the royalty's meglomania, etc. I can't help but thing that at least in this case in Morocco, a beautiful religious, artistic, architectural and spiritual masterpiece was created, whereas in the USA we build bombs and bombers that kill people by public subscription (i.e. our taxes) that add up to billions every year.

There was a decent sized English tour today and I met my first traveler...an Irishman named Martin, about 3 months into a year with his back through Africa. (He's in probably his late forties and has done a lot of 6 month-1 year trips and is up to 50-60 countries seen now). He was pretty impressive in his efficient, cheap, no-nonsense brand of touring. He's been in Morocco for 11 days and was quite surprised at both how few travelers he's seen and at how European Moroccans seem versus his recent experience in Ethiopia. We will both be in Marrakesh this weekend so perhaps I'll hear more about his adventures.

Well, that's it for now. I'm not sure if I'll be able to post while on the road...particularly with photos. Wish me fun and luck for the journey!

I have taken over 800 photos so far. I am having a frustrating time with uploading them and will try to create a link to flickr or something to provide more of a sampling.

more of the baby, a guest arriving to travel!

Mom, dad and baby are doing absolutely fabulously! Lila is such a sweetie and surrounded by so much love and warmth here. I got to cuddle up with her on the bed today while mama took a sitz bath and it was so lovely! The whole family is totally in love with her and I've already been invited back for their next baby : ) I came today for a postpartum lunch and was treated to a fabulous vegetarian meal made by the infamous cook at Sadek's parents, including a delectable vegetarian couscous with chickpeas, winter squash, raisins, onions and more. Yum! They are calling me the birth fairy-- in French it sounds very glamourous!

Crazy news! My old dear friend, Christine Grazziano, that I met in Tucson, AZ 13 years ago and had some of my first conversations about wanting to be a midwife with, is flying to Casablanca this week to go traveling with me for 10 days! It is a crazy story much in line with how this whole adventure has unfolded! She is arriving Thursday morning and we'll set off for traveling on Friday. More on that soon. I only have a few minutes and wanted to send this update!

The blogger website isn't letting me put up more photos right now-- bummer! I have some great ones. I'll try again tonight!

The Birth!

Aurelia in labor in the tub with Sadek supporting her...

Bienvenida Canela Fina!

Gazing at mama...

(more photos to come, pending approval of mama and getting some from papa's camera!)

Lila Canela Fina Tazi born at home in water Sunday, January 21, 2007 at 4:03 p.m. 7 lb. 7 oz (3.5 kg) and 20 inches long Wow! I can't believe that I am already writing the birth story! What an amazing day! Sadek's father predicted that today would be the day the baby would be born-- he was right! The three of us had an amazing Friday and Saturday together, and I felt our relationship as midwife and family really reached a new level of trust and connection. I had been planning to stay overnight Saturday at their house, but got invited to a party in Dar Bouazza, so adjusted my plan to go back to the beach. I joked with Aurelia and Sadek, that often when I have a party I want to go to, someone goes into labor and so that this was a good sign! They drove me to the mosque on the edge of the city and Jess picked me up there and we all kissed goodbye, promising to call the next morning before I went with Jess to El Jadida (a town about an hour south of Dar Bouazza) on Sunday morning to make sure no contractions were happening.

Sure enough, the midwife at the party mojo worked! Contractions and a small gush of fluid started around 3:30 am. But the contractions were about 15 minutes apart to start and so Aurelia rested in bed between them. They got closer but continued to be on the short side and of light-moderate intensity until dawn. She called me around 8 am to share the news and make sure I didn't head out of town! We chatted a bit on the phone and agreed it was too early for me to come and to check back in a couple hours and to go outside for a walk. Around 11:00 am we spoke again and contractions had spaced out a bit to every 10 minutes but were getting stronger and longer-- good signs! I suggested they eat a good lunch, try to rest and touch base in an hour or two. At 1 p.m. we talked again and things were still moving forward. We agreed I wouldn't rush up there but would start making my way to check in on the baby, get my things set up and etc. Aurelia had been listening to the baby with the fetoscope I had left with her and she was moving a lot and doing great. I had commented that often things don't really pick up until dark sets in, especially for first time moms so had emphasized the need to rest and eat and be patient.

I updated Trish and we agreed to leave in an hour or so. I went for a short walk on the beach and was in the midst of my third sun salutation when the phone rang again and I knew that it was time to go. Sure enough Sadek said that the contractions had really intensified and could I please come now. Of course! I loaded my things in Amine's car as Amine had taken the kids to his mother's with Trish's car. Somehow, Trish thought that she had a copy of the key to their second car, but upon trying it realized it was actually an old key to a car they no longer have! We didn't have a key to the car-- visions of taking a taxi blanca-- the crazy long distance taxi's that go up and down the road ran through my head, and my adrenaline started pumping. Every birth needs a little drama. Luckily our neighbor Jess had no plans since we had been planning to go to El Jadida together, so he let us use his car (a very cool little BMW- thanks Jess!). We were on our way!

We arrived shortly after 2 pm to find Aurelia in active labor and Sadek filling up the birth pool. I had brought the UK "Birth Pool in a Box" inflatable tub that I had rented from Mothering & More in Reading, and this would be the first birth I had used that tub. Per as usual, the task of filling the tub and managing the hot and cold water balance, pots on the stove, etc. was a bit distracting and kept dad busy for a bit. Sadek asked when I thought the baby would come and I answered truthfully that I didn't know, maybe in 3 hours, maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow morning. My feeling was that this was going very fast, but I've been fooled before so I certainly knew better than to make predictions! Aurelia was doing so beautifully--positively glowing, walking through the contractions, breathing, and sometime lying on her side in bed. I did a little massage to help her remember to relax her shoulders and she realized that the cold of my hands (cold hands-warm heart!) felt good so we started using a cool cloth on her shoulders and face and head which proved to be very useful for the rest of the labor.

The contractions were coming about every 3-4 minutes at this point and were quite strong-getting stronger each time. Aurelia was saying "I love the breaks!" and radiantly smiling, knowing the day was here when she was to meet her baby! As the strength of the contractions increased, and it very much looked to me like she was approaching transition, she started moaning a bit more and I think Sadek started to get a little worried, as very often happens around this point for the father. Trish (who was our lady in waiting in the kitchen in case I or we needed help) and I both assured him that all was normal and Aurelia was doing beautifully! Aurelia was so present- so in the present moment with each breath, using her breath as her guide, vocalizing low and open sounds like she had learned in yoga, in her pregnancy singing classes, that we had practiced together.

It was such an honor to witness. After the birth, she commented that last night she really tried to just let go and accept and surrender to the baby coming when she was ready. We had been talking a good amount about the balance between letting the baby know she was ready and could come, and not feeling like she was forcing it. She said she just consciously let go of wanting it to happen now-- of wanting me to get to travel, to stop keeping the secret of the homebirth from her family, to stop feeling impatient for the baby to arrive, etc. and trust that it would all unfold when and how it was supposed to! This was such a great lesson in how letting go of trying to control or force something allows it to just flow into your life.

Though the tub was only half full, I suggested Aurelia get in while we continued to fill it as things were building very quickly and I thought it might help take the edge off the pain and intensity. She loved the tub and we continued to fill it with very hot and then cold water until a point that I felt it would be fine if the baby was born there as I didn't want Sadek to be distracted anymore with that task. Aurelia was handling the fairly continuous flow of contractions amazingly well. Brightly smiling as each rush began to wane, wide-eyed and glowing in between. Sadek was behind her outside the tub for now, giving love and words of support and I was in front of her, helping her ground with eye contact and helping her bring her vocalizations lower and deeper. She said she felt very safe and surrounded by love with me in the front and Sadek in the back. After a couple particularly intense contractions, something shifted and it seemed that her body started to push a bit. She was on her knees, hips wide open working with gravity, opening for her baby, Wawita (their pet name for the baby in utero- that Aurelia learned as a name for baby when she lived in Chile) She was so in tune with exactly where the baby was the what the different sensations she was feeling were--for a first time mom this was pretty incredible.

After a half hour or so, I suggested Sadek get in the tub-- partly to allow him to be closer to the experience, partly to help physically support Aurelia and partly because I knew he would help bring the water up to a level I'd feel more comfortable with for the actual birth! Once he got in the tub, it became clear that Aurelia's body was spontaneously pushing. And she loved it-- she felt here baby moving down, felt her body working! We moaned and ohm-ed through the contractions together and gazed deeply into each other's eyes (Monique, if you are reading this, it was very much like at your birth--gazing into the eyes of the eternity of women who had given birth through the ages), I was smiling at her nodding, saying "this is bringing your baby, don't be afraid, you are doing it, your baby is going to be born soon". Thankfully I had brought my new underwater flashlight, so I could easily see what was going on. Aurelia had the natural instinct to give some counter-pressure at the top of her labia, and could feel the baby's head bulging. At one point I reached down to feel the baby's head right there and assure her everything was all right-- that was the closest we came to any vaginal exam.

Within 10 minutes of sensing the shift of her body pushing, we started to see the baby's head--I shared with them "your baby has black hair!", which was very exciting for mama and papa. Aurelia had changed from a hands and knees squat to sitting back semi-reclined towards Sadek. The baby was coming and she knew it! With each contraction I could see more of the baby's head through her labia, more of the hair peeking out. With Sadek supporting her from behind, I offered reassurance that all was okay and that she was doing this beautifully and did not need to be afraid. Every contraction ended with a deep breath and a smile--Aurelia has a smile and radiance that lit up the room, it was such a gift to be sitting right in front of her as she gave birth. As she felt the baby coming down with each contraction and then retreating between, I explained that soon the baby would stay down in between contractions and then be born, and that she was stretching beautifully and this was giving her perineum a chance to stretch around the baby's head. As she and Sadek had recently started doing perineal massage, she understood those sensations. The whole baby's head was bulging in her perineum-- it was a perfect birth video "live". After the birth, Aurelia commented that she was so happy we had watched several birth videos together, including some that very closely showing the actual crowning and birth as it helped her visualize what was happening and understand what her body was doing.

The crown of fire began and this little being was about to join us! She was stretching beautifully and with one last push, the crowning of the head, eyes, nose, mouth. I reached in to check for the cord, and there was a loop around the neck that I couldn't reduce over the head so I just held it over the shoulder- which was presenting within 20 seconds of the head being born. And then, came the baby! The cord was around the neck, under and around the arm and around the trunk of the body, thick, pulsating and beautiful. I tumbled the baby out of the cord and brought placed the baby on her mama! It was 4:03 p.m. on January 21, 2007.

Wawita was completely covered in thick white vernix-- more than I have seen on a baby, especially a baby at term, in a long, long time, making her look even more new, a creature from the spirit world not yet fully transitioned to our realm. It was amazing to see her unfold and transform over the next hours into her full baby self. (Sadek kept remarking through the evening--"She's changed!" "She's changed again!" It was so sweet.) Such a fast and intense labor--everything happened so quickly I think we were all a bit stunned. Could it be true? The baby was born ten days after my arrival, after we had connected and bonded and belly casted, baby was born in the tub with Sadek in the water with her, with lovely music playing (which I found out afterwards was shamanic music from Peru that was very special to Aurelia), diffuse late afternoon light, the fire in the fireplace. It was all as we had visualized and hoped for, but had done our best not to be attached to and it has manifested that way! Amazing! Baby in her arms, with wide present eyes and an even bigger smile, Aurelia explored her little baby. After a few minutes she looked at my kind of tripped out and blissed out and said that she couldn't really feel present, that so much energy was coarsing through her. I told her not to worry, just breath and do whatever she needed, that she would come back to earth soon enough.

I ran out to the kitchen to "tell" Trish that the baby was born. She of course had heard everything and was sitting in the kitchen with tears in her eyes. She came in to meet the baby for a couple minutes soon as Sadek and Aurelia thanked her for all her help and support. This little pink flower, Lila, continued to blossom and unfold before our eyes. She gazed wide-eyed up at her mama, and was so calm and content, reacting to her parents voices and singing, taking this whole birth thing in slowly and peacefully. Her cord was pulsing strongly for over 10 minutes.

If there is anything I am proud about in this experience, it was my excellent multi-tasking as midwife and birth photographer. While I didn't get the actual birth since I had to catch the baby, I got some great shots during labor and immediately after the birth. Within minutes of the birth, Sadek and Aurelia were singing their welcome song to the baby, whose pet name on the outside became Canela Fina "the best cinnamon". "Hola Wawita, bienvenida, Canela Fina" and I tried the video function on my digital camera for the first time since Christmas day and shot a very sweet 45 seconds of this family discovering each other, loving each other, honoring the birth of their beautiful family with the music from Peru in the background. There had been some bleeding right at the birth, which in the tub looks like a lot (like food coloring in water) but all within normal. After a half-hour, I cut the cord and we planned to have Aurelia squat next to the tub to birth the placenta which has separated. Sadek held his little girl skin to skin and brought her to the bedroom and Aurelia birthed the placenta once I promised her that it really, really, wouldn't feel like the baby being born! The placenta plopped out and mama joined baby in the bedroom. It was an interesting placenta-- I forgot to take a photo after I examined it and put it in the freezer-- it had an extra area extending in to the sack from the main disc, kinda like a stem off an apple or strawberry. But it was all there and very healthy.

The baby latched right away in the bedroom. Calls to family disclosing the exciting news as well as the home waterbirth were made to Sadek and Aurelia's parents and siblings. Trish and I laughed as we heard them explain in French-- "no we are not at the clinic. The baby was born in water at home. We had a sage femme (midwife in French) extrodinaire!" All were excited, if a bit taken aback by the news of the location and manner of the birth. Aurelia's father put their sentiments best when he said, "It sounds like it was wonderful and beautiful and I'm so glad I didn't know about it beforehand." Aurelia was a perfect example of the sentiment that "women birth as they live." Her approach to life is peaceful, aware, present, creative and beautiful and that was all reflected in her approach to the pregnancy, her openness to the journey with this little being, her beauty and grace during labor and trust in her body and her baby.

What a gorgeous vision of love and family union to behold--and what a contrast to what is available to women here, even more stark than what I feel when I'm at a birth in the U.S. Trish remarked later-- how sad that this will probably be the only baby born at home (planned) in Casablanca this year. It would have been so wrong for this birth to have taken place in a clinic here--it just couldn't have happened, and Aurelia's deep, clear knowing of that is what got a midwife she never met from Philadelphia to come to Morocco to help her safely fulfill her vision of a different way to birth her baby. Of course, it is only because they have considerable resources that this was able to happen, but I have no doubt that this mama is going to spread the word and do the work over time of helping to create options for women here...I've already encouraged her to think about how to start teaching childbirth classes once her baby is a bit older-- she has a gift, great intuition and instincts and such a passion and belief in her body and all women's bodies to give birth--perhaps she will become a midwife herself?

vamos a ver...

"Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine."...an evening at Rick's Cafe

Aurelia and I at Rick's Cafe...

Amine jamming with the jazz trio...

Trish...

Humphrey Bogart on a continuous loop upstairs on the veranda....

Beautiful Moroccan lamps upstairs...

The trio from above...

Ahh...Casablanca, evocative of the Humphrey Bogart film that put the name of this city in the minds of Americans. Of course, the film was in reality totally shot in Hollywood, and until recently, there had never been a "Rick's Cafe" in the actual city here. But a few years back, a woman who used to work for the American Embassy here returned from the States and with very deep pockets (and subsequent rumors that the place is funded by the CIA to serve as a meeting place for espionage), fixed up a traditional Moroccan building and created a very beautiful, haute restaurant and lounge decked out in beautiful traditional decor-- lamps, tilework, dishes, lighting, etc. I am happy I got a bit dressed up for the first time here--funnily enough, I find out that both the girls and Jess thought I had short hair because I always have it bundled up under a hat a the beach-both for warmth and for the fact that the ocean air and humidity makes my hair out of control!

Trish's husband, Amine, is a musician and has a weekly gig here on Thursday nights as part of a jazz trio and so Trish and I meet Sadek and Aurelia for dinner and music. Most of the plants in the restaurant are from Sadek's nursery and we are warmly greeted by the owner as she knows everyone but me in our party quite well. International cuisine and good wine and chocolate mousse take us through the evening. The owner beseeches Aurelia and Sadek to return with the baby for his or her first dinner out, and offers Aurelia water, tea or castor oil when we are drinking our wine, with a wink. We all enjoy the music from Amine and his fellow artists-- 2 guitars and a drum set--all talented musicians. They are occasionally accompanied by the resident piano player as well. Amine and a friend also have a music shop in the city and the piano player manages it now as Amine is teaching music at the American school. The two-degrees of separation feeling I've been having so far is elevated this evening as the dots continue to connect and overlap. We see another teacher from the American School with her musician boyfriend who plays in another bank with Amine's drummer-we had met the teacher in Dar Bouazza bringing Jess food my first night there. I find out even more about the family of Sadek and Amine and their mothers, sisters and brothers-- quite a legacy in politics, the arts, society, agriculture, and more in Morocco. I joke with the table that I hope once the extended family finds out about me and the homebirth they don't send me out of the country as it seems they would have the connections to do so...but I'm sure they'll love me ; ).

Trish and I head out and I continue to be amazed how the air can be so laden with moisture and yet not rain. The sidewalks are slippery, the car is totally wet, yet no actual drops from the sky. As we start the drive home, the fog gets incredibly thick-- so much so that we literally can't really see ahead of us. I'm praying that all the snail vendors and donkey carts we passed coming into the city have long gone home because we couldn't see them if they were there. Suddenly the fog lifts only to return again a km later. I'm really glad Trish knows the road so well-- she's also never seen it so foggy. We make it home safely though and call the folks who still had to drive back to warn them of the fog, and I wander back to the cottage for the night.

Couscous, Hammam, Jack Beach...

Aisha preparing the couscous...

The hammam....

the sweet woman who scraped off my skin...

me, minus the dead skin cells...

Fertility Goddess statue

one of the many beautiful doors I love

I had a very interesting day! I had hung out with my new friend and neighbor, Jess, last night and he told me that on Thursdays his cook comes to cook for the week for him and that I would be welcome to hang out in his house during the day (he has mooched off Trish and family's DSL with a 100 ft USB cord so I can get online there at night after Trish and her family have gone to bed!). He also invited me to dinner as Aisha was making couscous (traditionally eaten here on Fridays). I have plans for tonight already (more on that later-- such a busy social life here : ) but when I got up this morning and went over to meet Aisha, I asked her (or rather got Trish to ask her) if I could watch her make the dish. This is the real couscous, not the boil water and take if off the heat and stir it in and cover and fluff type we tend to eat in the States. She happily agreed and asked me to come over at 11am.

So after some yoga and finishing the excellent novel that kept me up til 2am last night (The Namesake), I went next door for my couscous making lesson. What transpired over the next hours was pretty amusing and very interesting. Aisha understands some English but doesn't speak it, but speaks French and Arabic. I, as previously discussed on this blog, have minimal French language ability and about 4 phrases in Arabic. I've continued today with my unquenchable passion to speak Spanish (the refrain, "Si...Oui" is becoming a constant flow throughout my days here). I think I may end up trying to travel in the North later in my trip, even though it is colder there, just so I can speak Spanish to folks and have them speak it back!

Anyway...we had fun trying to communicate with each other as she prepared the ingredients: onion, tomato, a spice mix of pepper and other things, tumeric, sea salt, carrots, zucchini, a hearty chunk of winter squash, olive oil and, since this was not a vegetarian version, some lamb. Later in the process a long, slim hot pepper gets thrown in too.
That mixtures simmers and steeps in it flavor in a special two-tiered pot with a fun name I have no idea how to write but includes the word couscous in it. I was thinking about trying to buy one to bring home, but then Amine, Trish's husband said that some may have lead in them so I'm reconsidering. While the meat and veggies are cooking, the couscous grain is spread on a platter and the cook mixes in a bit of water and kind of mixes/smooshes it together, adding water and swirling it around on the platter until it is the right consistency. The the couscous is put on the top tier of the pot, essentially a steamer, and cooked by the stem of the meat and veggie mixture for about an hour. During that time the couscous is gathered onto the platter once or twice and mixed with a traditional butter and put back on the steamer. It is then served with the couscous in a circle on the platter and the meat, veggies and sauce around it. Traditionally, Moroccans use their right hand to expertly roll the couscous into little balls to eat it. But Aisha confessed she uses a spoon and that is just fine. It was fun! I didn't get to see it all laid out as I wasn't home at dinner time, but hope to perhaps have a vegetarian version sometime, perhpas at Aurelia and Sadek's!

Due to a lack of a car issue, I wasn't able to take a little day trip today and was antsy to see somewhere beyond our little stretch of beach. I had already talked to Trish and Aurelia about wanting to visit a hammam, a traditional bathhouse and skin treatment that serves as the primary way many Moroccan's bathe. Sometime in the future I'm going to go to a fairly traditional, but open to foreigners, hammam in the city with a friend of Trish's, but Jess told me that there was a very nice (and a bit more expensive) hammam here in Dar Bouazza at the newly opened fancy hotel further down the coast. I decide to check it out and make a reservation for 3pm and come to find there is also a full thallassotherapy spa, beautiful indoor pool and many other amenities there--potential splurges for later in my visit.

The hotel is very interesting architecturally. (http://www.goldentuliphoteldesarts.com). The owner is an architect and artist and has fashioned the whole place to have an artistic and design-oriented flair. Unfortunately the service is not five-star quality in the hotel and restaurant and it seems that the business is struggling. But is is quite beautiful-- lovely gardens, mosaics on the buildings, sculptures large and small and bold color and textures abound.

With Trish's assistance, I find my way to the hammam and it is lovely! Beautiful tile and handiwork, very clean and inviting. I get a plush robe and slippers and get undressed except for underwear (luckily I had thought to ask what the convention was with this because no one spoke English!). Once in the hammam, which is all steamy and warm, you are guided to shower. You then sit and get this thick, brown, vegetable based soap slathered all over you. It is really emollient and moisturizing and feels great. I was left alone to sit in a sauna-like room with that on my skin for about 10 minutes which was lovely. Then you are taken back to the shower to rinse and then the real "treatment" begins. This is not for the faint of heart (or skin!). I had been told that the hammam involved some exfoliation as well as the bath, but I had no idea what was to come. I must say, despite it being a bit of a bourgeious setting, I was happy to have my first hammam in a quiet, private setting. Most are open rooms with numerous people (times for women and men are separate) getting their hammam treatment and bath at the same time. In fact, I found out that Trish has yet to go. She said she has little interest in public nudity and getting her skin scraped off : ).

Ok. So think about the most intense, deep exfoliation treatment you've ever had. And then multiply that by about 10. The woman doing my treatment, who was such a sweetie and very amused by my attempts to communicate, instructs me to lie face down on a marble slab. She then dons a glove that is essentially covered in what feels like sandpaper and starts removing years worth of dead skin cells. And I exfoliate regularly-- use a natural fiber brush daily, do salt and sugar rubs, cornmeal, etc. It is INTENSE, but feels great and invigorating-- kinda like the hurst so good type of feeling. I start my yoga breathing to stay relaxed and not tense up against her touch and she asks "Se va?", and I reply "Oui, se va"-- got that one down. Seriously, I feel clumps of skin falling off of me. And she is not shy either. Let's just say that I am smooth all over now. I turn over for the rest of the treatment and can feel myself shedding my skin.

Once she is done, I go in the shower to remove the dead skin and I swear, I think I've lost a pound of cells. My circulation is flowing like after a long run or hike and I feel relaxed, smooth-skinned and happy. I can't wait to do it again. I get dressed and walk back down to the hamman and ask to take some photos and am happily obliged. The steam makes it hard to see how lovely it is but may give you an idea.

I then somehow convey that I'm interested in seeing the rest of the spa facility and would like a list of the treatments and prices available. For some reason they don't have a flier, so they print me about 15 pages from their binder on the desk to take home. In French. It is quite a spa-- all beautiful, very specific and exotic water based treatments. A room for yoga -- I asked about the yoga classes but wasn't successful in finding out when they happen. The pool is gorgeous, though heavily chlorinated. I have another hour before Trish will be back to pick me up, so I walk about the grounds of the hotel, snapping photos, admiring the art, the garden and puzzling over how this place can sustain such a huge staff and services during the winter months. There is a huge, beautiful restaurant and bar and I wonder through-- up and down the stairs, in and out of the doors, up and down the walkways leading to the 12 "ethnic" rooms-- modeled after various styles and cultures worldwide-- a new york loft apartment, a traditional japanese bamboo room, etc. Staff look at me somewhat curiously, wondering what I'm doing there, but mostly just say "Bon jour" and keep about their business.

I wander toward the beach as Trish has told me that there is a lovely stretch of coast nearby-- Jack beach. I am amazed to see that directly across from this "five-star" hotel there is a hugs field of trash between the hotel grounds and the ocean. This is common here-- a mix of plastic and glass and other trash dropped on the ground after use, and the same refuse washed in from the ocean. On our beach by the cottage it is the same. The area down by the ocean is mostly clean and lovely, but towards the top of the beach, there is quite a bit of trash. I wander down what I thought was a road, but turns out to be a driveway. There are so many beautiful wrought iron gates and decorative doors, window, colors splashing together, textures colliding, bright blue sky. I realize I'm on a driveway that dead ends into homes and understand why a few of the men I passed were looking at me funny. I walked further along the road and come to a strange area of mounds of earth with grass and then an expanse of rocks to the ocean, right before the long open area of beach. It appears it is a conservation area of sorts. There is a path through the rocks, couples hanging out watching the sun begin to set, a moderate breeze. It is so lovely. I proceed to take about 40 photos of a funky abandoned house next door, cool plants, rocks, etc. The 5pm call to prayer rings out and I head back to meet Trish and the kids at the hotel. It was a great afternoon.

Once in the car I hear that Nayla (age 4) was kicked by a pony at horseback riding lessons that afternoon. Thankfully, she is okay, but Trish is understandably shaken up by it. I was wishing I hadn't left all my arnica at Aurelia's! Nayla and her sister, Zoe (age 7) seem fine now though and before heading home we drive a bit further south and I get to see a bit more of the seaside and hear about what it is like there in the summer. With each rotation of the tires I am again and again the furthest south I've even been in Morocco. We turn off the main road as Trish wants to show me the little cottages that families from the city own and rent for summer places. Like the houses on our stretch of oceanfront, they are rowhome of a sort, but quite tiny, often artistic, with little front gardens. It is easy to imagine little communities emerging each summer, moms, dads, children happy to be at the beach and away from the city. It is time to head back and see Kai (Trish's youngest at 15 months), and get ready for our evening out.

life in Dar Bouazza...

Organic produce, organic yogurt and even organic Moroccan style Kefir!

Trish took me to a local market that sells organic fruits and veggies. Apparently, the King of Morocco is quite a businessman and is cashing in on the organic frenzy in Europe. He has organic farms nearby the beach town I'm living in and while the majority is exported, sells a certain amount here at really cheap prices. The king is also into honey, organic dairy and a few other "higher" end food products. I was excited to find that I will be able to keep up with my fermented foods here- they have really nice yogurt, and yesterday I discovered that there is a fermented dairy product called Leben that is very similar to kefir. I got a banana flavored one and an organic plain carton. Yum!

I slept much better last night. It's amazing what a space heater and a couple glasses of red wine will do! I hung out in the evening with a teacher from the American School in Casablanca who lives next door. He's a surfer which is why he is living here-- unfortunately he recently messed up his ankle playing soccer and is in a cast, so I won't be getting any surfing lessons.

I'm finding that I need to do most of my yoga once the sun is shining on my patio, otherwise it is pretty cold with the ocean breeze. Here is a photo of me doing yoga and a few of my home here. But each day-- walks on the beach, yoga, pilates, reading, some work, playing with the kids and lots of yummy food and fruit!

Had pesto for dinner! And chocolate cake!

from the city to the beach town, yoga, belly casting

Sunday-Tuesday Jan 14-16th I decided to stay in Casablanca for a few days upon arriving. It is so cozy in Aurelia and Sadek's love nest, a nice fire each nice, Sadek brings us each a fresh made juice or lassi each morning. Aurelia and I are enjoying getting to know each other and making up for lost time in building a bridge of trust so important between midwife and mother. On Sunday, we go to the central market of Casablanca-- it was by far the most tame outdoor market of its type I have every been to in my travels, or even going to the Italian market in Philly. This was a pleasant surprise and a good first experience. I got to buy a bunch of amazing fruits and veggies, nuts and dried fruits, olives and more. I come to realize I could quite easily have maintained the raw food diet I did between Thanksgiving and Christmas during my cleanse-- though the yogurt and cheeses here are too tempting to do so, let alone the yummy cooked dishes I've tried so far. One of the funniest things I've noticed about myself here is my uncontrollable desire to speak Spanish in response to someone speaking to me in French or Arabic. I just want to respond in a foreign tongue, even though the other person doesn't speak Spanish (luckily Aurelia and Sadek speak Spanish to each other a lot so the three of us often converse en espanol). I can't tell you how many times I say "Si" instead of "Oui", or "No habla francais" instead of "I don't speak French". I am please to find that I do know more French than I thought and that a little effort goes a long way-- folks are so appreciative of any phrases I can pull out of my head, and my Arabic repetitoire is expanding very slowy, but surely. Headed to Dar Buazza, my "beach home" for the trip, and to meet Trisha Gorman and her family with three beautiful children (the two girls Nayla and Zoe are very excited to have a new American friend around!), the friend of a friend who brought me here. The town is about 20 minutes south of the city, and I have a small but cozy cottage just a house away from Trish and her family to use during the week. It's funny-- the beachfront homes are actually rowhomes in many parts of this area, so I'm literally 100 feet away from Trish's yard. We come to have lunch with Trish and meet the French family that owns the cottage and only uses it Sat-Sun. In that small world kind of way, we find that Sadek knows the family and has known them for over 15 years! We all hang out for a bit, get acquainted with the house and find that they refuse payment for the rental since they know Sadek and they wouldn't be here anyway. This feels a little strange, but also opens the door for me to spend time back and forth in the city and at the beach, as well as frees up some money for the family to fund some travel and travel accommodation once the baby is born, so I'm excited about that.

I also realize I'll need to work on doing yoga each day here as I planned. There isn't a lot of space in any of the places I'm at so far, and I've been following other people's schedules making it hard for me to get my own. I think once I switch over to Moroccan time and get up earlier it will be easier. Sunday night we did a casting of Aurelia's lovely pregnant body-- breasts and belly-- in front of the fire with music playing. What fun! There are some pictures of this that are precious! They had never heard of belly casting before and it will make a lovely addition to the funky, colorful decor of their home. I'm so glad I thought of doing this as a gift to them! Monday morning I slept in late as I couldn't fall asleep Sunday night and was up until 2am. I arose just in time to accompany Aurelia to her prenatal yoga class at one of three yoga shalas in Casablanca. This is my first car ride in Morocco that is not in Sadek's large and high Land Cruiser. Aurelia drives an avocado green R-4 Renault. A tiny box. Traffic and driving here is quite a harrowing experience and the tameness of the marketplace is greatly counterbalanced by the insanity on the roadways--by far crazier than anything I've seen in Latin America--with cars merging, beeping, turning, bikes, mopeds, people, donkey's, human driven carts of produce all vying for space and speed. But back to the yoga...this studio is run by a Moroccan husband and wife team and is small, simple and peaceful. The male teacher has such a kind and loving presence and is truly excited about my joining the group for the morning (Aurelia has told him and the other mamas about my coming to attend her birth). He invites me to lead the class but I decline. However, at the end of class I end up informally "teaching" and sharing for about 30 minutes, including palpating the other bellies in the class. I'm them invited to come back and lead a 2 hour workshop and discussion for pregnant women from the four prenatal classes they hold there each week. I'm not sure what I'll cover but agree to do it. They want to pay me, which I refuse, but then see that the woman owner of the shala does massage, so it is agreed that we will barter-- a two hour workshop for a two hour hot stone massage with chakra clearing-- sounds good to me! Despite Aurelia and Sadek strongly hinting they don't want me to go, I pack up to head to the beach house on Monday afternoon via a stop for a tour of Sadek's 15 acre nursery and greenhouses. Sadek's business is in ornamental palm trees and plants and herbs and cacti from around the world. He is very passionate and knowledgeable about all sorts of plants and that work and his collection of species has driven his extensive travel agenda for much of the past 15 years. I found out that before plants, he was into exporting fish, and before that was a honeymaker and seller. He's had an interesting path and he is an amazing photographer. His daily work life is quite enviable--works from home in the early morning. Makes his wife a smoothie and climbs back in bed for a bit, works a bit more, has a nice lunch, a nap and then off to the nursery to walk the ground and check in on the plants and his staff and do what needs to be done in person. He works a lot and has a very successful business doing something he loves, and is able to spend a lot of time at home too. Lovely. The plants are amazing. It is like being in a forest--lush, fecund, warm air, aromas and scents from the flowers and herbs, gorgeous light, traditional Moroccan music blaring from speakers around the compound to keep the staff of 80 entertained. I take tons of photos and revel in the stories behind the plants and tree, especially some of his favorites-- this one from Sri Lanka on their honeymoon, this one from Cuba, this one from a village in Peru. I learn how to use the macro lens on my new camera (Phil- you would be proud!) and thank mom and dad again for the 2 GB memorystick. After moving into the cottage last night, I piled on about 6 layers of clothes to go to sleep. My bedroom opens right onto the ocean and I can hear the waves all night. I woke up late and went for a nice walk on the beach, went to Trish's to download and send email and am just starting to settle in this afternoon. I realize that since my cottage doesn't have internet access and trish and her family go to bed around 8pm, that lots of skyping and phone calls at a time that most of you are functioning and on the computer isn't too likely. But we'll see. For now, send birthing vibes across the Atlantic-- we are all excited to meet and welcome this little baby!