Little House on the (Moroccan) Praire

Since we just finished reading The Little House on the Prairie series, our friend Barb made the girls some "Laura and Mary dresses" and sent along some bonnets as well. We love them! I'm very impressed considering my crowning sewing achievement was in 8th when I made a pillow in the shape of a hamburger... Kendra has announced that she will be wearing the bonnet "every day that it is sunny"! Is it just me, or is it rather unusual to see a prairie dress with a belly-dancing belt? We're not in Kansas anymore!
Or are we? I found this guy still grinning about the Jayhawks since they won in April. Thanks for the shirt, Dennis!

Moroccan Clothing

For International Day at Katrina's school, the MS and HS kids did a Moroccan clothing fashion show. If you click on the picture to enlarge it, you can see the outfits better. Then just push the back arrow to come back to the blog.

So which is your favorite? My favorite is being worn by Salsan - the little girl wearing purple in the front. She has the top layer tucked up so the audience can see the pants for the sake of the show. Normally this is not done.

The guys' outfits are called djalabas (one piece) or jabadors (two-piece). They come in typical boring male colors (brown, gray, brown, beige, brown, navy...), but for special events, they are always white. The twins, Amin and Amoon, are wearing Fezi hats.

Hmmm .... or maybe my favorite is the gold and maroon one. Or the blue and purple. Help! I can't decide!

Dress Caftans (one piece - with belt), taksheetas (two-layered) and jabadors (with visible pants) are worn only for very special occasions. You never (sadly) see these on the street. To see or wear them at all, you have to go to a wedding or a fancy occasion.

The off-the-rack versions are around $50-100, but the ones these wealthy girls are wearing are probably around several hundred dollars. For weddings etc., the middle and lower class rent these outfits, but the wealthy are expected to buy a new one for each big event.

Here we are going on a rare date to a gala at the university. And what a night! There was dancing (from all parts of Morocco) and singing (from traditional Berber to hip-hop Arabic) until 1:00 AM - what fun! I'm wearing a jabador and Gerald is wearing a . . . suit!

You may recognize this outfit from last summer. Obviously I am not fashionable enough to buy a new one every year - though I'd love to have an excuse to do so!

The Sheep Wedding

Saturday we were invited for the "Wedding of the Sheep" at a nearby village. Because Moroccan brides change their outfits several times over the course of a wedding, the time of year when the sheep "change their clothes" - or get sheared - is a sheep wedding! So here are the sheep, tackled and bound getting sheared...though they didn't appear to be quite as happy as a bride!

As the men worked, they sang a special song just for that occasion. Later there was a big feast and celebration and even though we had to go somewhere, we were informed that we simply must sit down and have something to eat. And so we sat in a little home not unlike the place the sheep are kept, and had a delicious meal. They served us chicken too because they have been told Americans don't like sheep!

Not all of the sheep were sheared. Some were - well, eaten.

A Snuggly Day

"My favorite kind of weather is snowy, rainy or misty - because it's snuggly weather" Kendra told me yesterday. And she got her wish today, on her 5th birthday - a cold, misty, rainy day. I am positive I saw the treetops on the surrounding hills powdered with snow, but Gerald wasn't quite so sure, skeptic that he is. But it was cold enough for a fire, roasting marshmallows, watching Strawberry Shortcake, blowing up balloons (Kendra's future occupation), and of course - snuggling.

It was five years ago on the 17th that we were invited to three graduation or birthday parties. Although I was in pre-labor, I decided it would be more fun to eat cake than sit at home, so we went to two of the parties. By then end of the day, it was obvious Kendra was on her way and Katrina was my little labor coach, telling me how to breathe and pushing my head down when I sat up between contractions right before we went to the hospital! Only a few hours later (I'll skip the details), Kendra was born at 12:25 am, May 18. Gerald wanted her to be born on the 17th so that her birthday could be a prime number (05-17-03), but neither Kendra or I obliged. Only an accountant would think of such a thing! As it turned out, the 18th (her great-grandma's birthday) was the perfect time and the perfect day for our wonderful little Kendra Elise to make her appearance into the world!

Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day to all my wonderful mothering friends and family! I hope you had a marvelous day. I certainly did. Saturday Gerald took the girls on an "outing" which was really a chance for them to pick wildflowers in our woods and buy me a present. Of course, I pretended to have no idea what was going on when they returned and the girls said, "We were just (giggle giggle) hanging out (giggle giggle)!" Upon waking up Sunday, I was given strict orders to stay in my room and not come out. After a long time, I begged to at least take a shower. I was later escorted through the house were I waited in the living room. And what a reward! Two bouquets of flowers, egg sandwiches made by Gerald and Kendra, fresh cherries, chocolate spread (I love living next to Europe!), and fruit salad made entirely by Katrina. As Gerald later said, "I had no idea how long it takes to make a fruit salad!"

Later we went on a drive through a poppy-filled valley and then into another isolated, lush green one where we had a picnic. Much to the girls' delight, we also found the pictured "see saw" at an old camp ground!

In the States, I always felt and took on so much pressure to do it all with kids. Take them to ballet, soccer, art and library class at least once a week with educational craft times, character training and extensive reading at home. Then there is Morocco where even stay-at-home parents seem to think they can do absolutely nothing with their kids and send them off to school at age two for the whole day. Could there be something in between???

Recently I was challenged to look up what the Good Book says about being a good mother. Funny, I couldn't find any references for raising my child's IQ by playing Bach and introducing flashcards at eight months. But there was a whole lot about teaching children about loving and following God. And when I look back to my grandmothers and mother, that's what I see. I'm thinking they weren't being introduced to new parenting research every day in Oklahoma, India or Afghanistan where these women raised their children. So after all these years, a lot has changed, but God thankfully has stayed the same - and that helps me sort through all the parenting messages to the one I need to hear the most.

Tears

The other night Katrina overheard us talking about the cyclone in Burma and asked what was going on. I gave her a very simplified explanation including that the people did not get proper warning from the government and that now the government is not allowing supplies or relief workers into the country. Then I showed her a few tame pictures on the Internet.

About 15 minutes later we found Katrina on her bed staring into space and not responding to our questions. When Gerald asked if she was upset about the cyclone, tears spilled out of her eyes and down her cheeks. Then she started weeping. "Why didn't the government tell the people and why don't they let help in?" she wailed. I took her into the living room where we hugged, talked and prayed about it for a while. We told her we would give some money to help when she reminded me she had lost her money. (She keeps stashing things in various places - never to be found again. Sometimes I feel I'm living with a squirrel.) In the morning I asked the girls how they had slept. Katrina replied, "I didn't sleep well because I kept thinking about the government." Indeed, she had even had a nightmare during the night.

This is the first time Katrina has responded in this way to the news. In one way it brings me great sadness - the innocence of childhood which we have so carefully protected is being washed away slowly with the realities of the world. But in another sense, it brings me great joy - because a tender heart is one that God can use.

And while we learn simple lessons in the safety of our living room, thousands of rotting bodies are floating down the rivers of Burma into the very ocean which brought them their death. Oh God, have mercy.

Company!

April was a good month for us because we had two sets of visitors! First came my cousin, Lisa Friesen (actually, my cousin's daughter...but only the Mennonites reading this actually need to figure that out), and her friend Susan. A few weeks later came my cousin's husband and daughter, Paul & Katie Richardson. (For the Mennonites - Paul is Cyndi Friesen Richardson's husband - Cyndi is the daughter of Paul and Freda Friesen, Paul is the son of Jacob and Tina Friesen...)

Lisa & Susan came first for 2 1/2 days. Sadly, our "sightseeing" time was cut down to one day because Susan got sick (Note to tourists in Morocco: Step away from the cream-filled pastries that have been sitting out all day in the hot sun). When she did feel better, we did a whirlwind tour which included seeing the monkeys in the cedar forest about 20 mins away from us. You can see Lisa & Susan both bonded well with our hairy friends - Susan even had one jump on her back looking for food!

Next came Paul and Katie (10) who were with us for less than two days. Another whirlwind tour was cut short but wild wind, rain and hail. Trying not to be deterred, we went to a little shepherding village 5 mins away to buy a rug and saw how miserable it is for these dear people to live in their little hovels in bad weather with tin roofs (remember the hail?). As we were leaving, bracing ourselves against the freezing wind and hail, Katie yelled, "My friends will never believe I was this cold in AFRICA!!!" The picture above is at a little village school in the Zaouia(mentioned in an earlier blog) that we took them to. Since Paul is the director of the Caris school in Malang, Indonesia, he was eager to see the school and meet the director. It was neat to see connections made in spite of language barriers.

What a great refreshing and catching-up time with these wonderful people. We figure with well over 200 family members from both sides of the family, we could easily have family here every week for a long time to come! Don't worry - we'll keep the monkeys off your back. Maybe.