The pink melhefa

After 20 days with the fantastic family of Shidie and Bisheri, I have moved to a new family in a different neighbourhood. Having gone though the feelings with my class the same day as the move, I had to admit to my students that I indeed was a bit nervous. A new family means new habits, new people and a new place, and it again mean leaving my comfort zone. However, I was also very excited to meet a new Saharawi family. Having ridden through the unexplored territory of neighbourhood 3 in a proper Saharawi car, we finally arrived my new home. It turned out that my family was out shopping and I therefore had to spend the first hour with my half-asleep aunt. Attempting small-talk, I started chitchatting about the TV programme the two children were watching; however as soon as my aunt realized I was interested in the show, she turned up the volume. This killed our simple conversation and I was left by myself with a British TV magical tricks show for children under 7 years. My family arrived an hour later and I was brought my house. I was treated like a (qu)king and told that ‘mi casa es tu casa’ which, with my horrible Spanish, I have translated to my castle is your castle. To be correct- I know casa in Spanish is house, I did learn some Spanish before I left, but I don’t live in a house- indeed it is a castle. Based on my own research, which consist of visiting a couple of families, I think I live in the biggest house in Laayoune. My welcome present turned out to be a new melhefa. A pink melhefa. With golden decoration. I feel like a little brides mate when I wear it, yet this newly acquired piece of fabric so now my teaching gown. Now, in the midst of the fantastic treatment I received, I forgot to ask for the family’s last name. This would not have been a problem had I not gotten lost in neighbourhood 3 the day after, while walking home from school. I strolled around in circles, looking at every sand-based house hoping my sister would pop out of a front door somewhere. Being lost is no fun, the cute kids suddenly turn to small devils and I could not ask for help with no name to ask for. But at this time, when I was lost and had nobody to turn to, one of my students appeared. I must admit that I have never been so happy to hear ‘teacher teacher’ - out in the desert.