My weekend started on Friday when the school arranged a farewell party
for me. It was very nice and the headmaster gave me a present: a piece
of Native American jewelry. Someone must have told them about my love
for Native American handicraft.
Saturday was really a great and unusual day for a Moroccan lady. The
morning was quite usual though, because I just went to the botanical
garden of Phoenix. I liked it in the sense that it was wild and had a
lot of Native Indian examples of houses and food all made from cacti.
The unusual part started at 9:00 pm when the vice principal and his
wife invited me to a festival of "Salsa Dance". I needn't tell you
that I was the only woman with a headscarf in the club. The magic of
the thing is that people did not really look twice at me. I was
expecting them to frown or to be taken aback, no, nothing. Good for
me. We went upstairs and watched the groups and couples parading in
the most magnificent salsa dancing. There was also a band from San
Francisco who sang the whole evening in the most hilarious and
mirthful way. The singer of the band was wearing a suit, a tie and
glasses. The vice principal's wife made a joke about him and told me
that he looked rather like an accountant; he was so into the singing
that his appearance and his trance were incongruous. However he had
such a beautiful voice and I enjoyed his singing and even his speaking
in Spanish.
The vice principal's wife? Mistalene, was a good salsa dancer, her husband was
not. So he was reluctant to dance with her when the dancing floor was
swarming with people from different walks of life. In fact, he
performed some steps to please his wife. I did not dance of course,
"allahomma jaal khayra aamalina khawatimaha" .
I spent the night at the vice principal's house as I was invited for
the whole weekend. They are a very sweet young couple; I got a lot
along with them because they are approximately my age so we had a lot
in common.
Sunday morning was another unusual day for a Moroccan Muslim. I
attended the church with my hosts. The church is Christian
non-denominational. People of different colors and races were there.
They sang, they prayed and they even danced. The church had no
paintings, no sculptures and no colored glass windows. And again, with
my headscarf, nobody was surprised at my presence in that specific
place of worship. I just listened and stood up when people did so.
Most of the words the Pastor said are really not at all far from our
religion. The fact that we should praise God every day for what he
endows us with, that if we give something we will be given more and
more, that God would expect people to take their destiny in their
hands all seemed customary to me. Undoubtedly, we believe in the same
God. Nobody was trying to convert me however; and people just asked
me, at the end of the service, where I came from. it is amazing how I
stayed in France for five years and never went to a church. I tried
once, but the priest was annoyed with my presence, so I left.now, for
just six weeks I could say I saw a lot.
Just when I was getting ready to depart, I start getting interested in
experiencing more in this country. But, hadn't it been for James White
and his wife, I don't think I would have experienced these things.
As my hosts had been paying for me a lot, I invited them to a Moroccan
restaurant. So, we went to a place called Fez. James's wife's sister
joined us and we drove downtown Phoenix. The restaurant was not really
Moroccan, but the names of foods were: the Tangier burger, the Fez
sandwich and the Casablanca something. However, the food was good and
everybody liked it. I can say that this is the best weekend I spent
since I have been here because I saw some of the things that I needed
to see and again was able to join "the useful to the agreeable"