It's Fig Season

We were rifling through the bulbous green figs together - searching for soft, but not squishy specimans to fill our sack.  The Moroccan woman leaned over to explain, in French, how to pick the best  figs.  I told her that I only spoke a little French and didn't quite understand what she had said.  She switched to Arabic which I understood even less but after a few sentances I realized that she was asking where I was from and Ana men Amreeka (I'm from America) and she has family in America and she'd visited California and Las Vegas and the Mountains and she loved it there and it was very beautiful.

And I understood her.

In Arabic.

I didn't understand all of it, mind you, and my ability to produce a reponse consisted solely of the Arabic equivalent to "That's great. Wonderful. Nice to meet you."  

But I (mostly) understood her!!

Arabic is coming much slower than I'd like...because I'm working much less hard than I'd like if I'm being honest.  BUT it's coming and I have big plans to carve out more Arabic time in the near future.  Including aimless dog walks through the city - once the heat breaks and Ramadan is over of course.  I'm dedicated, but not overly dedicated.  You know?

P.S. If you want to know how to pick the best figs....you should probably google it.  I missed that part in both languages.   


  1. Excellent! That's always a proud moment when you realize you can actually understand what people are saying...at least a little.

    I think I still have never eaten a fresh fig (plenty of dried though). Yet another reason to go to Morocco!