Eat til you're stuffed...then eat some more!

On Sunday I had a little weekend getaway with Abdellah Lamine (my friend from the last post) and Zakaria, a volunteer who is to be my "buddy" here and help me navigate the local culture, language, and city. We took Lamine's sexy little 1974 Renault 4 (featured below next to a male model we ran across) and headed to Tiyoute, a little town 30 minutes west of Taroudant. Tiyoute is situated in a gorgeous oasis (these are real!) that overlooks the valley between the mountain ranges of the Anti-Atlas and the High Atlas. We ate a hearty breakfast upon arrival to a neat hotel/restaurant (see food in pictures below) at about 11am. Next we walked up to an old palace that had been converted into a hotel, and then we took a stroll through the lush agricultural plots of the oasis before returning to our base at the hotel/restaurant to eat lunch. I was still full from breakfast, but there it was: the famed Djaj Bldi (Morocco's organic chicken) smothered in cooked onions, apricots, and a savory sauce. Of course I couldn't resist, so I did what damage I could to the enormous dish, said 'bismillah' (in the name of God), and collapsed into the couch to let my body rest from so much eating. Lamine whipped out an Oud (instrument similar to the lute) and played traditional Moroccan songs to which Zakaria sang. What a perfectly exotic scene for an American from Arkansas. There I was in a small oasis town, sitting in a hotel lounge room ornately decorated in the traditional Moroccan fashion, and listening to ancient Moroccan music played on an even more ancient instrument. I closed my eyes and drifted into an exotic stupor. After a few hours of sitting around talking, playing music, and relaxing, we started gathering our things, and I figured we were on our way out. But then we moved outside under a tent and were served a "snack" which was hearty enough to be a meal. I was still stuffed, but when duty calls I must respond. I went home that night not thinking I'd eat again for some days. I indeed didn't until lunch the next day. That is living it up, Moroccan style!

The fruit of the Argan tree, whole on the left, crushed on the right, and the seeds in the middle. This work is done by women around Morocco in women's cooperatives.

The machines making Argan oil for culinary and cosmetic purposes.

What a beauty! The car, that is...

Dessert fruit! I actually don't know the name, but this fruit is plentiful in the summer. Moroccans will warn you not to eat too many, though, lest the seeds inside constipate you.

Lamine...a great friend!

Traditional oven used for cooking bread.

Grinding stone used for making argan oil, among other things.

Delicious. 'County Chicken' with onions, apricots, and raisins. Oh how I wish you could have tried the sauce!

A typical dessert: couscous with cinnamon, crushed peanuts, and powder sugar...yum!

The tent where we had breakfast and our 'snack.' The dessert people use these as their shelter, and the word for tent in Moroccan Arabic "khima" has become a part of greetings in the dessert culture (Hey, how's your tent?)

All kinds of goods with my favorite snack, msemen (fried bread).

I might could woo a Moroccan lady to be my wife with this picture. Just have to pretend I play the Oud.

Argan fruit drying on rooftops in Tiyoute.