The Whole Story - part 1 of 3

Some of you may be surprised to learn that I've decided to return to Morocco.

When you ask me why and I say "I'm going back for a boy," I'm guessing you'll have some questions. Who is this mysterious man who pulls me back to Africa? Why haven't you heard of him before? You might even go back through my blogs and notice that he is conspicuously absent from the majority of my posts. You may even think that I've gone mad and made him up.

It is for those very reasons and to answer all of your questions that I've decided to go back in time and tell you our story from the beginning. Hopefully when I'm through you'll have a better understanding of why I've decided to go back and what the future may hold.

The Beginning

I met Mohamed in January of 2006. I had been in my Peace Corps site for just over a month and was still living with my host family. We were about to celebrate Eid (the big feast). Eid is the most important Muslim holiday. Each family is required to sacrifice an animal and people come home from all regions of Morocco and the world to be with their families.

A few days before Eid I returned to my host family's house to find a strange man in our kitchen. He was cutting up vegetables and my host sister Khadija was in the back holding a rabbit. The strange man proceeded to go outside and help my host sister slaughter the little grey animal. I'm sure my eyes were fairly wide at this point as I think that was the first time I ever witnessed a slaughter. The guy was amused by my shock and chuckled before preparing the rabbit for his entry into the tajine.

"Mohamed's making us dinner!" my host sister (Khadija) exclaims. They continue to prepare the meal and I can tell that Mohamed and Khadija get along well, they were laughing and talking the whole time. I couldn't understand anything they were saying, but in time I found out that Mohamed is a 2nd cousin of the family who was returning to his village about 40 mins away from my town. Since the bus gets him in late, he generally stays with my host family for a night before getting in a van to his village.

It wasn't until the next morning when we were eating breakfast that I noticed how cute Mohamed was. But before I knew it, he was gone.

He wasn't gone for long. During his month long vacation from the capital he came back to my town and stayed with my host family on and off. I was still adjusting to life in Morocco and with my host family and it was winter, so I spent a lot of time sitting in the sun outside of their house reading, writing or watching people come and go. Mohamed would sit with me and we'd "talk-" well, as much as my language skills would allow after only 4 months in the country. He was really good about asking me questions, speaking slowly and helping me with my Arabic. Much more patient than anyone else in the family and I really appreciated his company.

It wasn't long before I started liking Mohamed and I could tell he liked me too. I was torn though- what to do! I was in this small community where I was to live and work for two years, pursuing a man could be truly scandalous! What would my host family think if they found out?

It was around this time that a few other PC volunteers came into town and one night I very sneakily went with them to the one place we could get alcohol- a big fancy hotel on a hill. I had two beers and they were quite successful at lowering my inhibitions. After enjoying ourselves at the bar, I headed back to my host family's around 10 pm. When I arrived, the house was full of music and people. They were having a party! Well, how convenient that a party was in full swing on the night when I had two beers and therefore joined directly into the fun.

Shots from the party-

After a while, Mohamed and another host sister (also named Khadija) snuck off to the back of the house. When they came back, Mohamed was dressed as a women in one of the traditional black wraps they all wore. The entire room bursts into laughter and Mohamed starts dancing with the girls. This was a rare opportunity. Generally, men and women don't do much dancing together, but in his disguise, he was in the girls club. We formed a circle and lightly joined hands. We danced for a bit and I made my first true move- I flipped my hand around and squeezed.

It was brief, but we both knew what it meant and I would consider that the start of our almost two year relationship while I was in Morocco.

To be continued....