Ashleigh's House of Style?

My favorite blogger, fellow Texan and Aggie, Big Mama, does a weekly Fashion Friday blog with her favorite fashion finds of the week.  As one who LOVES clothes, but doesn't always know how to put them together, this column has led me in the right direction several times. (Don't tell Joe)

Big Mama, this post is dedicated to you.

I am NOT about to give anyone fashion advice today, but I DID host a showing for an up and coming Moroccan designer a few weeks ago.  Oh yes, I felt VERY hip and cool. My friend Annalis really got the ball rolling.  She is the one who actually knows the designer, did the invitations, and plans many events for the women's diplomatic crowd in Rabat   I really wanted to show you the invitation she sent out, but alas, I think Khadija threw it away.  (But it was very official and beautiful, even though I could only read half of the French vocabulary) 

On a side note, you should know that the terms "diplomatic event" are really just key for LOTS of kissing.  As in the European style of both cheeks (not to be confused with the Eastern European style of right on the mouth).  As Texans, Joe and I most assuredly did not grow up in the world of greeting/good-byeing with the kiss.  In fact, in the past we have joked about it and how uncomfortable the whole thing would be to us.  But I am here to tell you that today we can kiss friends, total strangers, heck, even the Ambassador with the best of them.  Now don't get me wrong, it's not a free for all; there are rules.  As a woman, you kiss everyone except Moroccan men.  American males do not usually kiss each other, although the Ambassador occasionally breaks this rule, which is fine because he's the Ambassador.  Looking back now I am realizing that there are a few of our male friends that I don't think I've kissed and am not sure why (Kurt? Mark S.?) You see these same people often during the work day- definitely no kissing.  Outside of the embassy, even if there is an occasion of meeting an American on a weekend during the day this does not necessarily call for kissing, if you are meeting Europeans there will be kissing.  But by george, if there is ANY nighttime event, even AT work: KISSING.  

Now you are all prepared for a diplomatic event in Morocco.

Aaaaaaannndd back to the main reason for this post.  

The designer, Safae Ibrahimi, designs traditional Moroccan caftans (long dresses) and gandoras (short) with a modern twist.  She is, of course, young and ridiculously beautiful.  You can see some of her things here.

It was an evening of wine, chocolate, and clothes.  I mean, really.  What woman doesn't want to be a part of that?

The designer (in one of her creations) and Annalis

Trying to get the hang of this entertaining thing.

We loved that not only did the ladies come to look at the clothes but also tried them on! 

Beatriz in pink (Colombian married to Norwegian diplomat)

One of my beautiful co-workers, Ghita.

My other co-worker, Anne-Marie.  I LOVE this picture of her.  (And I also love how you can see the smokers in the background standing just outside the front door.)

This is where the modern twist comes in.  Obviously.

My dear friend Jess and I, before she left me for the summer.  Thanks for your help with the flowers!! 

Two more pictures I have to include:

Barek guarded the gate for the evening.  So handsome.

G and Joie the dog pre-party, but after they were banned from the scene.

A really fun night! Great turnout and the designer made several sales.

Ralph, Tommy, Michael: I clearly have a great venue for fashion shows and you are more than welcome.  Just let me know....

A Few Words Wednesday, Volume 12

This past weekend had a Moroccan holiday attached to it so we got 3 days off of work.  We took our new friends down to Oualidia and then spent our time passing around various illnesses between the 7 of us.  I don't think we took one picture all weekend.  Instead, today I have a few pics from other recent happenings.  

We have done a lot, ton, HUGE AMOUNT of entertaining this summer. ( I cannot over-state this) A couple of weekends ago we did a going away soiree for friends of ours that are leaving post.  We have a beautiful bar in our backyard that I used for the beverages and desserts.

I used a little food tent that I bought at our Moroccan Wal-mart equivalent for the first time.

I think the lace especially is a classy touch.

We didn't have enough seating for everyone outside, so we just brought out a couch, coffee table, ottoman, and 4 dining chairs and arranged them on the patio.  It turned out very well- so comfortable.  Of course I didn't take pictures of that.

And like I mentioned last week, J is walking.

Look at me, Joie!

That's his "so proud" face.

 To kick of the Olympics the British embassy hosted a mini-Olympic games for the diplomat community.

The British women WIPED THE FLOOR with us in Tug-of-War.  That's our DCM (#2) at our embassy at the back still in her work pantsuit.  Joe tried to teach her how to wrap the rope around her back to anchor the team, but it didn't take.  

It was all very official with cardboard rings and a bona fide podium!

Joe took silver in the soccer ball shot put.  The Dutch took the gold.  

Happy Wednesday!

A Few Words Wednesday, Vol. 11

Well, this past weekend I spent an hour and a half on a blog post that after "saving" several times somehow still erased itself.  It surprised me how sick it made me and every time I even think about heading back to blogger I get a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.  Well played, blogger.  Maybe someday I will find the strength to re-write the post.  Maybe.

Anyway, here's a few pics of G.

G with Joie,  the dog we have been sitting for a month now.  I didn't pose them like this; we often find them sitting or laying around together.  It is going to be UGLY when Joie's Mommy comes home.

After G has been "working" on Daddy's car.  We always catch him after the fact and therefore still don't know the origin of the grease.

J FINALLY started walking, but all we have so far is a video where he is crying and walking at the same time.  It's pretty darn cute.  Will get some pics soon.

And that's really all I've got and until I can summon the courage to get back on the blogging horse.  Happy Wednesday!

Oh Oualidia, My Oualidia

(This post continues our month long run of travels/visitors. I think this was Memorial Day weekend.)

Joe and I found our paradise last month.  Her name is Oualidia (pronounced wuh-lidea).  We had been hearing about her since last September- a quiet, clean, relaxing beach town.  Perfect for kids.  Not too far, great for the money and picture perfect- white buildings, blue accents.

This pic came from the web.  I would give credit, but it is posted to so many places that there is no telling where it began.

Even though that weekend could have been our one free weekend of 5 crazy weekends in a row, we were not about to miss out on the last opportunity to go away with our sweet B family before they moved back to the States.  (And Es, we obviously wanted to spend time with ya'll, too!)

So the same crew from Azrou (that's kind of catchy) headed 3 hours south for a 3 day weekend-o-fun.

I can't say that our family was at our best.  Joe and I were exhausted and J was sick, I think.  Maybe teething?  I don't know.  But he was a hot mess (except when Mary was playing with him- you're the best, girl!) However, we still had a blast and will be heading down a couple more times this summer.

Said crew.  J was so upset with the state of his life,  he wouldn't even look at the camera.

The accommodations alone are worth the trip.  Each family rented a 3 bedroom condo (three!!), which means there were no shifty sleeping arrangements.  Also, we were able to do just about all our meals at home, which is wonderful in a country that doesn't serve dinner until 8 pm.

View from condo

View of condos from the beach.

In the evenings, you go down to the beach and haggle with fishermen over the day's catch.  Then they grill it up for you.  It's not cheap, but it is delicious!!

Matt and Brent sampling the first night's dinner.

The second night we took a boat ride to a deserted beach where the kids played while a fishermen cooked fish and lobster for us.  But first, they prepared fresh oysters and moroccan salad.  This was my first time tasting oysters, and I did so on a piece of bread.  I can't say they complete me, but they were edible. The entire evening was absolutely wonderful.  So relaxing, good food, great company.  (And J was acting decent.  Again, thanks Mary!)

The beach in Oualidia is nice because it is partially a lagoon, which makes it easy for the kids.  Also, when the tide is out, there is a huge island sandbar with tidal pools and all manner of things to explore.  

Again, the black magic beach mat.  There were 3 families on it that day.  And you can see there is still room!

Joe's first surf lesson.

 

The surfers (and friends).  

Thanks Bs and Es for another great weekend.  And Oualidia, we'll see you soon.

A Few Words Wednesday, Vol. 10

I know the beach pictures are probably getting a little repetitious these days, but really, it's the only thing we do anymore.  Saturday mornings (and holidays like today) we get up early(ish) and head to the beach for a couple of hours before everyone else gets there.  Although we only live about 3 miles from the beach as the crow flies, our favorite one is about a 20-25 minute drive.  We pack a few snacks and towels, rent an umbrella for $2.50 once we get there (kind of reminiscent to renting a sled on the side of the road in the mountains) and PLAY until the boys give out.  

Last night Khadija and her kids spent the night while Joe and I attended to our duties at the embassy's big Fourth of July party, so they came along with us to the beach today.  

It's always a race to beat G into the water.

I gave up the "J wearing a hat" fight today and sprayed his head down with sunscreen.

I will stand all day, but no, I will NOT walk.

Hiba and J.  I have to brag on this boy.  He sat and played by himself in the sand today for about an hour.  I know my time is short before I am chasing him up and down the beach.  

"Bury me, Daddy!"

Matt came along with his surf board at the end.  G was all about it.  Especially when Daddy took it out for a spin.  He could NOT understand why he couldn't go too!

Happy 4th of July!!

The 'Kech

The title is just another lame attempt of mine to be hip and cool, but I think I may start something with this.

I'm talking about Marrakech, probably the most famous and recognized city in Morocco. Home of Djemaa el Fna square, snake charmers, (arguably) the best shopping in Morocco, and any other touristy thing the country has to offer.

We had not yet been, so after we got back from Ireland we piled the kids and Mom and Dad in the car for the road trip south.  

As I've said before, it's not a road trip in Morocco without a dramatic detour.  This time we made it to the city proper before things went bad.  Consequently, my iPhone's GPS has been retired.  One minute we are cruising towards the blue dot and the next thing you know we are at the end of a dead end one- way street (dead end for cars anyway) with a man selling chickens on one side of the car and a furniture/pharmacy/electronics/toys/grocery store on the other.   Thankfully we knew exactly what to do: oh yes, this had happened before (in Fes)- we flagged down a cab and paid the driver to lead us to our hotel-  Les Jardins de la Koutoubia where we were once again spoiled by the diplomatic rate.

The next morning we headed out into the medina with our tour guide.  Pretty much everywhere we go we hire a guide.  They are relatively cheap, very professional, have a lot of knowledge, and the most important part, know how to get us into and back out of the labyrinth of streets that is the medina.  We even have a guide we send folks out with in Rabat (shout-out to Aziz).  Anyhow, we got a great look at  the city waking up.  We walked through the medina, some museums, an old university and back out to the Square where you find food stalls, henna, musicians and the snakes being charmed.



This is where I need to go on a little tangent about my Dad and this trip.  My Dad, bless his heart, is up for just about anything that I ask of him.  So when I suggested he (and Mom) hop a plane to Atlanta, then Newark, then Frankfurt, then Madrid and into Casablanca to keep our kids in Rabat while we went away for a week, he was all for it.

Because of all the connections, they brought carry-ons so that their luggage would definitely make it with them to Casa.  And if any of you have been on a trip with my Dad (and many of you have), you know that the suitcase he packs is always the biggest of the group.  I have NO idea what he has in there (power tools? his beloved leaf blower?) but it is all necessary.  So as it was, the carry-on was a sacrifice for him.

Fast forward to Madrid: Mom and Dad's last leg of endless travel.  They go to board the plane and the flight attendant told Dad he needed to check his bag; it was too big.  That's right, it had been just fine for the 3 other flights, but not on Royal Air Maroc.  The employee tried to make them take it all the way back to the ticket counter, which would have been an hour round-trip and they would surely miss their flight.  They argued against it and finally the guy "checked" it and threw it on a conveyor belt to go to the plane.  Well, I think we can all guess that bag was placed on the conveyor belt to nowhere.

I mean, REALLY, Royal Air Maroc, you lose GATE CHECKED LUGGAGE.  So, our foolproof plan to get the luggage here was not so foolproof.  Anyhow, Dad was a pretty good sport about having one pair of jeans the entire time and now they are locked in a fight to the death with the airline to be compensated for the lost luggage.

So continuing on to Dad's (comedy?) of errors trip, at the end of our guided tour he gets run over by a motorbike in the medina.  Marrakech is notorious for its small streets with bikes zooming past.  It gets old real fast.  Many of our friends don't like to take their kids into the medina for that reason- we made ours stay in the stroller the entire time.  They come out of nowhere and are traveling way too fast.  Well, one caught Dad. He wasn't too hurt, just his pride, but it made us all the more nervous.

Then, that very night Dad LOCKED HIMSELF OUT ON THE BALCONY.  We switched out nights going out to dinner since the restaurants don't open until 7:30 or so.  That night Joe and I were eating at the hotel's French restaurant and Mom was putting the kids to bed next door to their room.  Dad stepped outside onto the balcony, which by the way, was only about 2 feet deep. Don't you know the wind came along and blew the door shut.  And THEN that man shimmied over to our other balcony and just as G had closed his eyes (after about an hour's fight), Mom heard a "tap, tap, tap".  Somehow she just knew it was Dad, locked out of the room.  Cursing the day he was born, she let him and after he fumbled through the room, she started the process over with G.

The best part of all this is that Joe and I had a view of the window from where we were eating dinner.  We saw Dad standing outside and commented that it was nice that he was out there probably enjoying a glass of wine.  Sadly, we missed the Spiderman part of the show. Also, we later checked the balcony door and it was found to be UNLOCKED.

This brings us to the next morning and the end of Dad's woes.  He wanted to get a picture of the snakes.  Before we walked up I gave him a small amount of money to pay the snake guy.  If you take a picture, they want money, and as I didn't want to get anywhere NEAR the snakes, I was putting Dad in charge of the transaction.

One of the snake guys- 2 cobras and a python curled up on the corner of the rug.  Just looking at this picture gives me the willies.

Dad wanted to have his picture taken with the snake guy.  At this point he has NO IDEA that a snake is being put around his shoulders.

After the initial surprise and schoolgirl scream, he decides to "own" it and is holding the snake by the head.  At this point snake guy is gesturing to Mom and I to come get in the picture.  

Dad is beyond thrilled with himself for being so brave with the snakes and snake guy continues to be persistent about wanting to put a snake on me and Mom.  This is when I throw on my teacher face and very forcefully yell, LA! LA! ("No" in Arabic) And he got the idea.  

It was then time for Dad to pay up.  Mom and I were standing a safe distance of 20 ft away and watching as Dad gives the man the amount of money I originally gave him.  But no, the man asks for more and even though I had warned him against this, Mom and I watch in horror as Dad PULLS OUT HIS WALLET and opens it up and basically empties it for this guy. (Anyone that has visited a third world country is having a heart attack right along with me right now) Thankfully, he only had the equivalent of $25 left (way to go Mom on the tight rein), and snake guy was a little disappointed.  I should note that during this time of negotiation snake guy had his back towards the snakes and they started wandering off a little too far for my taste.  

Back to the rest of the trip. We spent our time shopping and haggling in the medina, taking naps, taking little boys to the pool, and ordering room service french fries and spaghetti for little boys.  G and J did decent on this trip.  Well, J was a champ.  He slept through everything.  Especially the first night when G, Joe and I slept for a total of 2 hours. Guess which of the 3 of us kept everyone else awake?  The second and third night G slept on the king size bed with Mommy and Joe on G's little floor mattress.  What can you do?

And a few more pics-

Every day around noon men go to work setting up 40 or so food stalls on the Djemaa el Fna square. 

Shoes anyone?

Ran into a friend from college in the medina- Jerod and his lovely wife Bethany.  CRAZY!

Koutoubia Mosque 

Mom and Dad- such good sports!

We had such a GREAT time with Mom and Dad throughout the adventure.  And even though Dad half-heartedly suggested on the drive home (during J's one hour scream fest) that we leave the boys with Khadija during our Spain road trip next year, I don't think he would do it any differently.  (And obviously Mom wouldn't let him)