Winging It

For my Anthropology of Reproduction class, I have to give a presentation on infancy and breast-feeding in Morocco. I was really excited about this assignment, until I realized that we have a library the size of my kitchen (and apparently breast-feeding in Morocco isn’t the number one title they chose to carry on it’s shelves…can’t imagine why).

My professor reassured me that I could use my conversations and observations in port for the meat of my presentation, which I thought was a fabulous idea, until I got to Morocco, and realized it’s a lot harder to approach a pregnant, Arabic-speaking woman and ask her how she’s planning to feed her baby than I had originally thought.

So I got the brilliant idea to ask some questions of my male tour guide, Driz, who’s consequently the only strong English-speaking Moroccan I had consistent access to throughout my stay.

I decided to start by telling him that I wished there were a woman I could ask about these things…but I ended up telling him that I wished he were a woman.

Awkward times.

I was hoping we could laugh it off, but apparently Driz didn’t find that funny.

So I switched the topic to nomads and land policy. Problem is my presentation isn’t on nomads and land policy.

All this is to say that I should have great fun when I get up in front of the class tomorrow.

Let us hope the Internet and its article databases shine their favor on me.

Love. Anna