In Shallah

Morocco was nothing short of amazing--not gonna even try to portray the three-ish weeks I was fortunate to spend exploring.

I will share a tidbit of culture that will no doubt stick with me.

There is a phrase that Moroccans seem to stick to the end of virtually every statement..."In Shallah."  Loosely translated, this means "God willing."

At first, I found it amusing..the whole "in shallah-ing" this and "in shallah-ing" that.  Here an "in shallah," there an "in shallah," everywhere an "in shallah".

However, the more I heard it used, the more I was truly enamored by the phrase.  Perhaps it has something to do with the tone--almost every time I heard it, it was delivered in a hopeful, deliberate fashion.  As if the person was cautiously optimistic that whatever positive step they were channeling would actually come to fruition--but that deep down, they truly believed that good things would follow.

Before I knew it, I was "in shallah-ing" with the best of 'em.  And I did my best to replicate the proper delivery.

Things have been a bit crazy since returning from the trip.  Health-health and health-fitness challenges have sprung from the woodwork.  No fun.

On the upside, I am down another 11 lbs.  That makes 57 lbs total in just shy of 6 months.

On the downside, at this moment I am having a bit of trouble focusing on the upside.

All I can say at this point is that things will all work out as they are supposed to....IN SHALLAH!

Fat in Moroccan

There are some things that are universal in any language.  I have come to find out that being called fat is apparently one of them.

Tale 1:
The primary customary method of dress in Morocco is called a "jalaba".  It's essentially a long sleeved, floor length, a line dress with a hood that is worn by both men and women.

Mom went into a store to try one on.  She pulled whqat she thought was her size down from the rack.  The shop keeper quickly ran over, laughed loudly, and handed her a garment easily twice the size of the one she had chosen.  FUNNY.

Tale 2:
Mom and I decided to experience the traditional Turkish bath called "hammam".  The actual experience is beyond accurate explanation, however, it essentially involves being scrubbed vigorously head to toe (and parts you didn't know) after being steamed as if in a rice cooker. 

I walked into the hamman and was directed to sit on a teeeennny tiiiiinnny stool.  The scrubber took one look at me and called for a giant wooden bench.  She then patted her stomach and giggled.  Also funny.

Pass the pigeon pie!

Made it....So Far

Well, after a couple of stressful weeks on the health front, weight front, and work front I've finally had my first Moroccan mint tea!!!

I arrived in Morocco fatter, with lower platelets, and with my mind more towards work than expected. But atleast I'm here.

The 21 hour trip wasn't too bad--pretty uneventful. And we managed to sneak in two Broadway shows and a couple of trips to the deli into a whirlwind 24 hours in NYC....on the way, of course!!

Lookin forward to a great adventure!!!!

Bullshit

I am crabby.  And I have been crabby..for a week now...due to these damn steriods.

In addition to being insanely irritable, the steriods have proven to bless me with insomnia, jitters, inability to focus, and lightheadedness--pretty well rendered me an all around mental case.

But that's not the best part.  The highlight of my week that I GAINED almost five pounds in less than fivc days.  Ya see, apparently the drugs are also great at water rentention, fat retention, and acting as appetite enhancer.

I can feel myself expanding......