We’ve had two Moroccan kids to play at our house in the last week. One, a friend of Ilsa’s, is a tall, quiet girl with a really sweet smile. She lives in the same apartment building where we lived on our first arrival in Rabat. Her parents didn’t know where our new place was, so we arranged to meet in front of the school. I was worried because I was a little late–about 5 minutes. But we waited 45 minutes for Hiba to show up. Her parents told me they’d pick her up at 6:30, but it was closer to 8 when they arrived. This didn’t bother me.
On Wednesday, Abel invited Yusef to play. (They have Wednesday afternoons off) Same arrangement; in front of the school. Again, I was about 5 minutes late, and got a phone call from Yusef’s dad wondering where I was. Which just goes to show you–you shouldn’t make generalizations.
In spite of this fair warning I’d received, I was none-the-less late for the strike on Thursday morning. They stated, they being the Parents’ Association of which I am a bona-fide dues-paying member, that the manifestation would go from 7:45 to 9:00 a.m. I assumed it would be entirely outside of the kids’ school, a junior high in our neighbourhood. Donn and I showed up about 8:15 to find the tiny parking lot deserted except for a few posters. We popped into the café across the street, where we ordered coffees and I called my friend Irena, who soon joined us for coffee. She explained that the plan was to march on the high school, and that the banners and armbands were off doing that. We’d missed it!
At first I was disappointed, especially about missing the armbands, but she reassured me. The important thing was to keep the children home from school, she said. She herself was showing solidarity by watching the children of a mother who worked; she invited Ilsa to play and me for coffee that afternoon.
I was exhausted. I hadn’t been able to sleep the night before, finally drifting off around 2 a.m. to get in a solid two hours before Abel, who never does this anymore, crawled in with me around 4 a.m., thereby killing sleep for the rest of the night. (He was very restless, although very cuddly) I figured I’d drop Ilsa off, have a quick cup of Irena’s excellent coffee, and then head home for a nap. Instead, I stayed at Irena’s for 4 hours, while we chatted about everything from embarrassing faux pas made in languages not our own (she had the funniest stories!), to the ways our husbands deal with life’s trials, to her dreams of opening her own shop. I realized, as I yawned my way home, that we have transitioned from her being kind to me and my limited language skills, to the give-and-take of real friendship.
And, while I was eating gelato she’d made herself from the ripe, juicy fresh local strawberries we’ve been eating so many of lately, the cashier at the French high school turned up to pick up his kids! Yes, he’d kept Day of the Dead School, while going to work for The Man himself. We chatted briefly, and he said the school had agreed to talk to the parents about the explosive price increases (12% this year; prices doubled within the next 6 years. And we have 3 kids in the system!). I hope they do something. If not, I’m willing to keep the kids home another day, and to sleep in again if necessary. I’m a true revolutionary at heart.
6 comments
March 29, 2009 at 7:44 pm
LIB
Oh darn, you were SO looking forward to those armbands.
HOWEVER…I’m not feeling sorry for you cuz I can’t imagine any kind of disappointment that homemade gelato, made from “ripe, juicy fresh local strawberries”, wouldn’t alleviate.
March 29, 2009 at 10:38 pm
planetnomad
Lib, you are right. Homemade strawberry gelato tops armbands any day!
March 30, 2009 at 5:58 pm
Beck
That is a STEEP price hike. Yeouch.
Strawberries are so far away from being seasonal now. The only ones in stores have been shipped here from Peru and are already starting to rot…
March 31, 2009 at 7:15 am
Kit
Those strawberries sound so tantalising! Sounds like you have good friends there already, definitely worth missing the strike for.
March 31, 2009 at 7:18 am
meredith
I hope my small strawberry patch does something this year, last year we didn’t get many, but the year before was good…
In any case, I’d be willing to eat strawberry gelato while fighting for lower school prices…and yay for friends that make coffee and gelato. Can you clone her?
March 31, 2009 at 9:05 am
MaryWitzl
A 12% increase in tuition would bring out the revolutionary in me too! I thought the school our kids go to is bad, but I may have to revise that assumption…