I am not my own

These past few days have been rather a blur; I honestly don't remember much of them as I passed from unconscious to conscious, more often than not, staying on the unconscious side of things. It was a little thing called the flu.

Whole body chills and aches amidst this wearisome fatigue, I was constantly aware that "I am not my own" and my Creator is really brilliantly AWESOME. I had once read this book by a favorite author of mine (Philip Yancey; Fearfully & Wonderfully Made) and it literally, cliche as it sounds, changed my life. Sometimes I forget to be thankful for each breath I'm given... and then I get dreadfully sick where I'm overly dramatic in my thoughts and feel like I'm dying... and then I remember :) From each minute and intricate detail of my body to the massive and astounding pulses of this universe, God is incredible... that's right, big woohoo to our Creator with a capital C.

I also "like" getting sick because it often gives an excuse to completely slow down life for a bit, appreciating the little things. For instance, drinking a glass of juice. Normally, it's just a glass of juice, perhaps next to a farmers omelette (YUM ham) or BLT sandwich (YUM bacon)... pretty much a side to the main event. But when you're sick in a land without pork, the glass of juice becomes this major beautiful thing of tasting, being conscious for the 2.3 minutes while drinking, and swallowing yummy liquid. Better said than I... read this (#334).

So dear blog readers, as I'm sure you are all sick of the flu-gail-rants, I will now share some actual blog-worthy "I'm in Morocco" stories...

The Hamam (Turkish Bath)
On one of our recent random days off (Declaration of Independence Day), a small group of us decided to do a very Moroccan womanly experience by going to the hamam; it's a very intimately bonding outing. So in case you have no context on this, I've provided a quick wiki-read but its not quite as glamorous as it may seem. Basically, in your birthday suit, you go into this large steamy room with benches and basins of water. Amidst many others in their birthday suits, you receive this brown-goo that you slather all over your body; I think its special soap so let's go with it. Then, the real 'fun' begins: the hamam lady has you lie down as she scrubs you down with this black glove (think pumice stone material) as layers and layers of your dead skin come off. Now, it's an ALL body ordeal... so anywhere you have skin, she is there, pummeling away... It was a pretty intense experience with a stranger nonetheless! :) I just remember her proudly showing me my own dead skin (yes, gross) that had been rubbed off and my reaction: just W-O-W. After this, you 'bathe' some more in the water and then came my favorite part... the whole body massage. Yes, the pre-scrubbing angst and awkward nakedness was all worth it for the massage. Lying there in the misty, humid room with my new layer of skin, I was smiling big :)

The Derb Ghalef

A new best friend
AKA "gail's baby"

Ever since moving here, I'm beginning to see this extremely blurred line of "legal versus illegal" and often wonder if we've tidied it up into something known as "Craigslist" in the US. So the Derb Ghalef is an area where you can purchase all sorts of goodies at unbelievable prices! HA :P ahem. It is a myriad of little huts packed with "new" electronic items, bikes, appliances, watches, clothes, DVDs, and... anything really. Walking through this maze, you often have to walk single-file, dodging the little sewer river, as well as... same as everywhere else here... men. On the whole, my friends and I had a very successful trip: my friend got her iPhone case, another got a DVD, teacups, and a spatula, and as for myself? I got a kettle for our apartment (fancy stainless steel) as well as my new best night-buddy! I sleep and cuddle with it every evening without fail :) Good times... and if my laptop is ever stolen, I think I know where to go buy it back...

ps. shout out to my fabulous friend KAYLEE for introducing me to the new cuddle buddy :P