Living in the desert region means there is always some sort of level of sweeping away dust needed. We use traditional brooms  but for mopping it is not the type of easy swifter or mop used in the U.S. Here it is like a squeegee and some people even wrap a towel or cloth around the head after to dry the floor. However I don’t since I am less particular about the water residue left over.. to each their own. There is oddly something therapeutic about these kinds of activities here.

Laundry takes longer even though I do have a non-automatic machine, meaning I physically fill and empty the water. The machine has this ‘dryer’ the closest comparison I can think of is kind of like an attached  salad spinner. I wring the clothes from the washer,  rinse them in a large bucket of water,  then I ring them out and place them in the salad spinner to dry a little better. Once  that cycle finishes, I can finally  hang them on the line.  I have gotten a tip that in the summer (coming up soon) since it will be so hot I won’t even need to do a pre-dry. The previous volunteer even told me she would often just squeeze the water out and directly wear the clothes as they would dry so fast anyway… Now accepting any cheap tips or suggestions for not completely melting during this summer….

Another equivalent to U.S. life is waiting in line at the bank. The other week I had a wonderful package to pick up (thanks mom and dad!). So, like any average citizen I went down to our bank/post office/ cash plus to sort it out. Yup, in my village and kind of common here is a one stop counter for multi businesses. There also only ever seems to be one man working the counter… I wonder if the poor guy makes 3 different salaries for the 3 different jobs…

The guard buzzes in every visitor handing out paper tickets, like at the deli department, though the overhead digital display does not match a single ticket for some reason.  You don’t really wait for a number to be called but people just seem to remember who is next in line. There is the weirdly familiar and comforting sounds of office supplies like whirring of a printer, staples smacking against stacks of paper, and loud talking coming from a side office. Also, can’t forget the grated cold metal benches everyone stacks up on.

I also experienced the simplest interactions with my community that only boosted that feeling of integration. While walking back from working at the Dar Chabab I passed by several former students that stopped to say hello, kicked a soccer ball with some teenage girls passing by, even got to stop and talk with multiple generations of women and practice my Darija greetings. Hanut (store)  owners waved at me from across the street as I passed by. May seem so minor but on the PC scale this stuff is gold. Always trying to find those moments of joy in the mundane.

Always getting a little gaggle of these birds chilling on my windows providing some of my Moroccan soundtrack