Les Boules

A most interesting phenomenon has occurred at the dar chebab. I probably failed to mention that some of The Men turned a large chunk of the garden in front of the dar chebab into a gravel terrain for the game petanque, a close relative of bacci (sp?) ball. Here, we call it "Les Boules". If you've ever been to France, you've seen that it is the required pastime for all men over 60.

So now the dar chebab is always crawling with men and boys who want to watch, play, and discuss les boules. It is played thusly: a tiny ball (the bouchon) is thrown. Then each person has two larger, metal balls to throw as close as possible to the bouchon. In a given round, one or two points are awarded, according to whose balls got closest to the bouchon. You can chuck your ball at your opponent's ball to get it away.

For the last few weeks, I've been skeptically eying the hordes of les boules enthusiasts. I didn't know that I approved, and sadly, I no longer function very comfortably around groups of men that I don't know.

Last week, two of my more outspoken girl students marched up to one of the guys who work with me, and demanded to play. The guy assured them that they would have their turn. It was delayed, and delayed, until finally, one day I showed up at the dar chebab, and there they were on the court, concentration written all over their faces, lobbing the metal boules with grace and passion.

So now ALL my girl students want to play.

And then, after a lot of pressure from all parties involved, I played for the first time yesterday. Uh oh--not only did I LOVE IT. I'm quite good at it, if I may so flatter myself.

So now, in the movie montage of life here, we have about half the town completely addicted to this game. The only demographic we're missing is the mamas. The plot should next involve the news of some problem, and we have to use our Les Boules skills as a community to overcome it/fund raise 10,000 dirhams to pay off the tax man who wants to take our land/the land of the local handicapped folks. Soon some other foreigner should walk through town and say, "Where is everybody?" as a tumbleweed rolls by. And someone will answer, "Why, they're playing Les Boules, of course!" And then one of the moms--who will have disapproved all along of course--will come down to yell at her husband, then accidentally give it a try, and become addicted too, and she'll turn out to be really good.

Okay, I'm exaggerating. But it is really cool seeing the girls get so into something. And while it may not be cardiovascular exercise, I think it's just as good as aerobics, or basketball, or whatever other thing I've been trying to trick them into doing since I got here. Tbark allah.