Fatima was our maid last night. Turns out, even though this is just a small apartment, normally the family have a Bonne (or maid in us-speak). This is because Halima works away from home a lot, and men don't do any housework. So because Halima was going away, they went out last night, and came back with a maid. Fatima.
She seemed so nice, only a bit older than me, really lovely. I was looking forward to practising my arab-speak on her a bit. And then this morning, sudden as you like, she had to go. It's really sad, because she had a family emergency, but it was also just a really bizarre experience.
So where does this leave me? Well, Halima is gone, and Si Aziz still needs a maid to do stuff. I am that maid. Not in the sense that I am being made to do anything, but just because if we both want to eat, I have to do it because I have some vague idea how. It's not the most glamorous thing, but I'm not disliking it. Probably because I'm in total control of the kitchen, which, if there is a heaven, you know damn well mine will be a huge kitchen with an Aga and a load of Le Creuset cookware.
So far therefore, my day has consisted of two tests, a taxi driver who was a little pervy and kept telling me I was جميلة all the way home (ask Abdull, or someone else who helpfully speaks Arabic if you can't guess for yourself) and then making salad and Tagine for Si Aziz. Who has now entertained himself for over 3 hours just watching telly, and if the phone goes off one more time, I have to answer it myself. I keep checking on him to make sure he's ok, but it's getting a little weird now. So I'm hoping he'll be alright if I leave him to it.
If I make my own then I promise I'll show you it = )
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