I'm glad that names are becoming easier to remember. For many cases, it's either Muhammad or Mahmoud. You have a 50/50 chance of being right. The odds amuse me.

Things I'm starting to remember from Morocco:

-Public toilets cannot flush toilet paper. You have to wipe and put it in a basket next to you.

-Acting like you don't speak Arabic can sometimes work to your advantage, especially when the banks close at 1 PM or you don't know where you are.

-Traffic is deadly and crossing must be done quickly and confidently to avoid any unnecessary death.

-I'm white and people will stare. Stare back.

-Don't drink the water.

-Water bottles are only .25

-Taking control of situations (cabs, conversations, street crossing, haggling with prices and bills) is often necessary to avoid being taken advantage of or injured.

The sign in the bathroom said "do not throw toiled paper into the toilet". The basket next to me clued me in and made me laugh to myself uneasily. I should just leave them a bottle of draino.

It seems like this time around is much easier than the last. I really don't notice the people staring as much, though Kim did. Take that Jean-Paul Sartre. 

We walked along the Corniche yesterday in search of a head scarf for Kim so that she could go into a mosque on the tour today. We found a man on the street who started talking to us. I tried to ignore him, but he got to Kim and soon we were following him through the Bazaar and market, in search of a scarf for 15-20 pounds (about $3-$3.50) at "his" shop.  I realized after the first shop that it was not his, and he actually didn't have one. I let Kim know because it was her shopping trip, and told her she was going to have to give him a tip after this. Through the narrow and winding side streets, past a soccer match, and men smoking sheeshas in scenes out of Aladdin, Kim finally got her tarha (a non-religious headscarf); blue so she could wear it at football games. She slyly slipped him 5 pounds ($1) as she shook his hand, like she's done that before. Apparently now I know to whom I go if I pick up any bad habits.

I went running last night along the soccer field for a while. It felt good to do something ordinary, at least until my feet squelched under the mud on the far side. 

I've noticed that I've not taken myself as seriously as I did when I went to Morocco. Mostly, I have no problem laughing at myself when I make a mistake. Humor is essential for sanity, and for learning. I'm learning quicker because I am taking chances and putting my dignity and pride on the line, hoping someone will go out of their way as well and pick up what I gave up. It's been working so far. I've also learned to push back a bit when people are staring or "hissing" at the girls in our group (hissing is apparently their version of a cat call, which happens all the time because it seems as if young boys and high schoolers are allowed to do whatever they want in this culture). I make loud noises like I'm retarded or make faces. It's so immature, but it disarms them, confuses them, and makes me laugh. It's how I deal with what I perceive as rude.

The cabby ripped me off yesterday, even after 5 minutes of haggling in the cab.  I will always remember to ask the price BEFORE I get into the cab. Always. Being in a rush costed me 7 extra pounds. That's 3 bottles of water. Or a sandwiches. Or 2 cokes. Or a new repair kit to fix my sunglasses. Live and learn. The hard way.