The Museum of Morocco

Hi gang, I'm updating from my homestay, a large apartment near the Gare de Rabat and the Museum of Morocco which, technically, doesn't exist yet: it's a whole lot of poured cement, a crane or two and lots of work noise throughout the day.

I have three sisters, two of whom are at home, plus an aunt; all together it reminds me of hanging out with my cousins and sister, fast forwarded a few years (appropriately, I would end up in the aunt role).

Classes start tomorrow, and leading off is fusHa (Modern Standard Arabic) for three hours starting at 8:30. Aguh. That class is going to feel wonderful though, since I can actually form complete sentences in fusHa - in darija I've got nothing. I speak 80 percent French, 20 percent English with my sisters, French with mom and dad. They speak darija with each other, so I'd better get on that. Darija is quite the dialect - from an outside perspective, it's amusing to know that you can legitimately ask for information with words like "Shnou?" (What?) and "Shkoun?" (Who?).

Video house tour coming up soon. I know I keep promising multimedia, but I was stuck with spaztic hotel wifi - I'll get on an Amideast computer and make it happen.