Mindy Woodhead
 
 
 
That list is foreboding, but I’m having a lovely time. I realize I have strayed from erstwhile cultural observations, but after living here for 11 months, it seems like I’m picking at the scab to continue to point out to bizarre. But there are a few things I will note from the last month: Donkey parking at the post office. A dentist at the souk (outdoor market) perched on a stool behind his card board box. On top of the box lays a piece of cloth, a pile of teeth and a pair of pliers. An 8-year-old driving through Agadir on a motorbike with his 4-year-old brother on his lap. Don’t worry, the 4-year-old was wearing a helmet. Walking into one of my village stores to see the 11-year-old who runs it selling cigarettes to a group of 8-year-old boys. None of them reacted to seeing me, just daily routine. Negotiating with an 8-year-old who works for my landlord. The kids who work in this town are not amused by my accent when speaking their language. They tend to do a shooing motion with their hands, expressing they don’t have time for me and my foreign ways. Maybe they can see I think they are cute little adult prototypes and feel I should deliver more respect given the operation they are running. I just can’t haggle with an 8-year-old without finding humor in the situation. The roads are a volatile game of chicken. There is no say over who has the right of way, be it busses, tractors, herds of sheep. And though I believe they drive on the right side of the road, like we do in America, it is up for debate. The overwhelming philosophy seems to be the faster you go, the more everyone will get our of your way, and all lanes are open to the use of anyone going in any direction. I just zone out, accepting my mortality before I step into any vehicle. I was in a bus that rammed into a flatbed truck last week. I happened to be paying attention before it happened, and I have strong suspicions the bus driver was calling the truck driver’s bluff. We were all ushered out into a busy, angry roundabout, which caused me more fear for the lives of the passengers than the accident had. Another bus came along and took some of the people, and others just jumped into honking, angry taxis. No one was seriously hurt. I never followed up on my root canal story and I just want to say that all was well. The office is nice and has a western toilet (which is always a sign of something). He was happy to give me Novocain when I asked for it and though I dropped the suction once, (it was my job to hold it in my mouth) my dentist was able to pop it right back into my mouth without hesitation or sanitation worries. There were charts that explained the ‘how to,’ of the complicated procedure, and though these charts were in English (which he doesn’t speak), he was very sweet to not hassle me with asking advice. He is from another part of the country, so he doesn’t understand my Berber talk, but I am perfectly able to understand his constant invitations for stronger interpersonal ties between us. He is very attentive and I am honored to have been brought in for an appointment once a week for 10 weeks now. So no worries! On a more genuine note, I am very happy to report that my July theatre intensive was REALLY successful! I was warned that because it is summer and the University students are on their break, I may only get two or three people per class. I am happy to report that the smallest class I have had is 12 people. They are a really intelligent, energetic group. Everyone is between 15-25, and they have amazed me at their level of commitment and capacity for risk. They funny thing is that they do really well with more advanced techniques of actor training, such as Meisner repetition, or long form mask improv, but passing inanimate objects around the circle and asking them to use it like something it’s not will keep them standing there baffled for a half hour. It is fascinating to figure out the cultural implications of the success or failure of various creative modules. Perhaps my PhD dissertation query is in there somewhere.
Child Labor, Root Canals, Bus Accidents,
and  Summer School
Wednesday, July 16, 2008