Day 9: Happy New Year...and a trip to McDonalds

Good afternoon, faithful readers. I have lots to tell you about today but, alas, none of it is veterinary-related. The five students and I awoke at our regular time this morning, ate our regular breakfast and headed down to the Fondouk courtyard at 7:30 like we've been doing every weekday since we got there. The big gates were closed, the rope directing the flow of traffic wasn't up and no one but the night watchman was there. You can imagine how mystified we were given that no one had given us a heads up that something special was happening. It turns out that today was a national holiday--New Years Day, in fact--and it appears that everyone got the memo except for us. Dr. Frappier informed us that the Muslim New Year goes according to the phases of the moon and while all Muslims knew there was going to be a holiday this week, no one knew exactly when it was coming. While we were writing emails, listening to our iPods and hanging out last night in blissful ignorance, the rest of the country was glued to the TV. Apparently, at 9PM last night the national government informed everyone that today would be the observed New Year's holiday. Thus, no one showed up for work today but us. 
While there was most likely a bit of last minute debauchery that happened last night, Muslims generally use the New Year's Day holiday to visit family and rest. This fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants holiday declaration causes problems at the Fondouk every year. Because no one knows when the holiday is coming, no one can plan ahead to have holiday coverage. Poor Mohammed, a very kind and hard-working man who coordinates all aspects of the Fondouk, had to come into work this morning to make sure that someone on the Fondouk staff had shown up to work. Someone had, but it was perfectly understandable why there have been problems in the past. 
Since everything was closed today, we used our quiet morning to do some treatments on our patients. Our rectal prolapse mule from yesterday was hanging in there as were two of the remaining neurologic donkeys. Alix, a French vet student, was given a lesson in wound debridement and we watched her close a hole in a donkey's side that had most likely been that way for months. That means we can no longer sing the song "there's a hole in my donkey, dear Liza, dear Liza" but such is life.
Around noon, Jeremy and Anne came to the Fondouk to join us for a lunchtime adventure. Anna had picked out a restaurant in a hotel known for its spectacular city view--Jeremy was all for it as was Emmy. It was not until Jeremy turned on the car that we realized that everyone had been thinking of a different restaurant and no one had any idea how to get any one of them. In a true comedy of errors, we all piled back out of the cramped little car to try to figure out where we were going and the best route to take. Once the directions were established we got back into the car to try again, only to have Dr. Frappier point out that we had a flat tire. We just couldn't win today.
We did finally make it to Anna's intended lunch spot where we were the only people in the entire restaurant and maybe even the entire hotel. It's been 70 degrees for the past few days and we enjoyed a long leisurely lunch out on the terrace. Anna and I each ordered the poulet grille au crapodine. We had absolutely no idea what grilled crapodine chicken was, but the name was too intriguing not to find out. We asked what crapodine was to which the waiter responded "mustard." We all had a bit of a laugh when the meal arrived--I'm not sure where the communication broke down, but there were definitely no mustard seeds harmed in the process of making grilled chicken crapodine.
We extended our afternoon festivities by walking around parts of New Fez (the nicer, newer area). After our walk, we all decided that the time had come to check out the McDonald's that was about 1-mile down the road from the Fondouk. Our little Moroccan fast food detour was fascinating. First of all, this was the cleanest restaurant we'd been in so far. The menu was significantly more limited than back in the States and the Moroccans have gone all out exploiting the McDonald's brand. For instance, if we hadn't wanted to sit down at a table, we could have driven through the "McDrive." Jeremy ordered a sundae and mozzarella sticks (note: why can't we get mozzarella sticks at our McDonalds' back at home?) and the rest of us ordered McFlurries. I guess because we're so close to Europe, the candy options for the McFlurry were different. We didn't have the option of adding Reeses Peanut Butter cups or heath bars to our McFlurries but we did get to add Toblerone chocolate which was a perfectly acceptable substitute. Anne was quick to point out that even though there was, in fact, a McFlurry machine behind the counter, it was broken and thus our McFlurries didn't differ in any way from Jeremy's sundae. 
Interestingly, although the price of the McDonalds food was by no means expensive, it was not nearly as comparatively inexpensive as it is in the States.  A couple of other things worth mentioning: we didn't have the option to "supersize" our meal in Morocco which is probably a good thing. Also, because knowing about the quality of the meat you put in your mouth is a respected Islamic rite, the paper placemat that came on our trays had graphic pictures following the idyllic and immaculate cows from their freedom in a grass field all the way to the abattoir. I think that if the McDonalds' in the States displayed comparable pictures of hanging carcasses on their placemats, no one would ever ask to supersize anything again.
After our McFlurries, we returned to the Fondouk to play a bit with Moushkil. Moushkil is the Fondouk's resident donkey and he is a ridiculous bundle of joy. Moushkil showed up at the Fondouk about 4 years ago. He was half in his mother and half out of his mother and his mother had a broken leg. Moushkil (which means "trouble" in Arabic) was delivered by Dr. frappier and the students and his dam was then euthanized. The owner did not want to keep Moushkil because orphan foals are a ton of work and require round-the-clock care and feeding. As the story goes, the students at the Fondouk (which included Jeremy when he was a vet student) pleaded with and begged Dr. Frappier not to euthanize him. When he gave in (Dr. Frappier definitely has a soft spot in his heart for orphan and homeless animals) the students organized themselves and took turns getting up to feed the baby. Unlike every single other one of his donkey counterparts, Moushkil has led a life of leisure and comfort in Morocco. He's fat and happy, has his teeth floated and his feet trimmed on a regular basis. Because he was raised by humans and spends afternoons strutting around the courtyard while we do our surgeries, his behavior is thoroughly un-donkeylike. He cavorts with the dogs and would happily sit in our laps if we let him. He's a breath of fresh air in a dark and grim donkey world. 
Hopefully all will be back to normal tomorrow when we show up to work at 7:30. However, this is Morocco and clearly, anything goes.