Al Humdillilah

Last night Elizabeth and Catherine's homestay mom invited all the girls on the trip over for a henna party. The tourist in all of us kicked in and we were giddy by the time we got out there. As is tradition, we were hosted in the "guest room" similar to the one in our house. We were served tea and coffee and, of course, lots of forms of bread with jam and butter. Their homestay mom doesn't speak a word of English so the conversation was oh-so-active and thrilling but we tried.
After sitting around for a while we moved into the other room for the henna. She mixed the henna leaves with some sort of powder and another sort of liquid and mashed it up in her hands into a nasty, thick, green paste. Really..."nasty" doesn't properly describe it.

**MMM**

She tackled it into a syringe and proceeded to make incredible, intricate designs on everyone's hands and feet. I have my right hand/arm and right foot/leg done (this has GOT to drive my semestry-obsessed family crazy). When we left their house we used the few Arabic words we know to thank her.**Getting all tatted up**

Genius Cindy chose to get her foot henna-ed so I was stuck unable to wear a shoe for the walk back to my house from the main road. It was only about a tenth of a mile but with one pant leg rolled up (the first time I've showed my knees in the past month) and henna up both my arm and leg I looked extremely touristy and out of place. SLASH kinda homeless. When I got home Nadia and Khadija had a field day with how strange I looked and were practically crying. I didn't think it was THAT ridiculous but then again I don't always understand foreign humor. And I don't always think I look as ridiculous as I do.**Khadija insisted on taking a picture of me looking like a tourist. Note the one shoe**

Getting the henna off is the problem. They insist on coating the dry henna with a mixture of water, sugar, garlic, and lemon. WHO, may I ask, came up with that mixture? Someone decided to find the worst smelling, stickiest combination ever and forced girls to rub it on their bodies. Does the term "cruel and unusual punishment" mean anything to you? Anyways, the fact that I stuck to anything within a 2 foot radius of me like a magnet made me want to shower before bed. With the assistance of a bobby pin I stood in the shower and scraped it off me. It looks almost as gross coming off as it did going on.

I just realized that I haven't given yall a rundown on the bathroom situation in Morocco. One thing I'm introducing to the country next time I visit: shower curtains. Someone had the great idea of putting a 2' x2'x3" indention in the bathroom floor (between the toilet and the sink, might I add. Not in the corner like you might think.) and calling it a shower. There is a sort of showerhead on a cord that really has a mind of it's own. Basically anytime you think about showering the entire bathroom is wet for hours afterwards. They don't even mop it up, just leave it to dry. That's our downstairs shower. **Downstairs bathroom. The tile square is the shower**

Now the upstairs shower is actually a tub. Again, with the showerhead on a cord (which is lucky cause most of the other students just have buckets). When I shower up there I feel like a 4 year old and expect to learn how to blow bubbles or share the tub with my sisters. Throwback.

Now for the toilets. Can't believe I haven't gotten to this before. Again, luckily, my family is very well off and has pretty normal fixtures so our toilets are normal. When you go to other people's houses or through markets and such you're expected to squat and do your thang in a hole in the ground. Now when I was told that I was expecting a hole shoveled out of the dirt where you just squat. Oh no, these are like glorified holes in the ground. There's a porcelain square around the hole and little platforms where your feet go as if that's supposed to keep you from actually peeing on them. It doesn't.
**When you're done you fill the bucket with water and wash it all down**

Just to add in a little side note: the Moroccan school girl beside me is listening to "My Heart Will Go On" by Celine Dion on repeat. I love being abroad.