NEW BLOG ADDRESS IS :
http://ericobryant.wordpress.com/
PLEASE READ IT TO KEEP UPDATED, AND GIVE ME SUGGESTIONS. SOON I REFLECT ON A WHOLE YEAR! IN MOROCCO!!!!!!
MUCH LOVE,
ERIC
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Wednesday, January 06, 2010
The Muskil on the Mountains
Note to Readers: I am in the process of changing my blog to wordpress. No more of this Blogspot shenanigans. So just beware, and it should be switched over in the next few weeks, and you will find a link when it is finished!
The season is winter here. Temperatures have started dipping, the sunlight has reached an all time low for the year. We have had a little bit of rain, a couple of nasty weeks of weather, and probably enough rain.
However, the mountains near my town sit at about 10,500 and 11,000 ft respectively. As of right now, they only have a dusting of snow. From what I understand, this is the way the mountains usually look in November or in May. However, this is January. The heart of winter should be upon us. Instead, unseasonably warm temperatures have resulted in only rain in the surrounding areas, and just a little bit of snow at high elevations.
Yay for me though. Winter gives me the blues, and so these warm temperatures have kind of kept my sanity. When we have a sunny day, it is absolutely gorgeous, and the temperature gets up to around 50-55 Fahrenheit.
Talking to the local people and hearing the stories from other volunteers, last winter was excruciatingly brutal. Temperatures were bitter cold, and the amount of snow and precipitation we had was the most in about 30 years. It seems that this year is the opposite, and I hear about these 5 year cycles, where you have one or two "normal" years, and one "wet" year, and the other two or three years are "dry."
This region, and most of Morocco, have been in a drought over the past 20 years. Recently there has been a period of normalcy, but still, not enough to make up for the lack of precipitation over the long period of time.
The lack of snow on the nearby mountains worries me, and worries the people in the villages. This region relies heavily on Apple production, so much in fact that it is a export monoculture (other than wheat and corn for self). The snow on the mountains provides water into the dry months of summer, and allows for trees to maintain growth, and apples for ripen as they should. Apples also tend to be water intensive crops. Also, people in some villages have periods of dry wells and streams in the summer. In fact, most streams are dry as you get further away from their source.
So hopefully by now you can realize what problems this region might face in the summer. I worry about this, and worry that the lack of below freezing weather and snow on the mountains will crush the income generation of the region, and leave some villages without water for months on end during the summer.
Recently, over the past 30 years or so, this muskil (problem in Darija) has become worse due to two reasons, and potentially three. I will lay out these reasons, and let you come to your own decisions on if you choose to believe them.
The first reason is development. This is a good reason. As the region I live became accessible to farming, to consumerism, and more developed, the amount of resources used per person has increased. People are striving to have a better life, and build better communities for their families. You certainly cannot slight people for this. The people everywhere in developing countries deserve all of this.
The second reason is population growth. This region has doubled in population over the past 10 years. It is due to the development, and increase in living standards (health care, electricity, potable water). You also take the increase in resource use per person, and this exacerbates the problem even more when it comes to specifically water use. More farmers growing more apples equals more water needed and used. It also adds to more environmental degradation, in terms of pollution and wood use, the two major issues environmentally speaking.
The final reason is the sensitive, debatable issue. This issue is climate change. Now, before you naysayers get all uptight, just listen. Trends, whether it is just a long term cycle loop, or actual global climate change, it has hurt this country, and this region of the country. On the issue of global climate change, there are winners and losers in terms of countries. Morocco is repeatedly a loser, as the already dry regions become dryer, and the sahara/sahel regions encroach on the land here, and desertification becomes and issue. Because once an area loses its green (usually what little green it has) there is no way to return.
These trends in Morocco over the past thirty years have the potential to affect everyone. Morocco is the breadbasket of Europe, and a large majority of Europes food imports come from Morocco. So it becomes not only Morocco's problem, but Europe's problem as well. Whether you want to buy into the fact that this is due to global warming or just another cycle, that is your choice. BUT, looking at the data, Morocco has been a loser over the past 30 years or so in terms of lack of precipitation in the rainy season and increased temperatures.
I encourage you to read the book "Collapse" by Jared Diamond, who is an utmost expert on the issue of environmental degradation and cultures. I would call it Environmental Anthropology. Diamond puts all the evidence out there for the ways civlizations both now and in the past has collapsed. Probably one of the best books on this topic I have ever read.
Much Love, and Hope that you are doing well! Happy New Year and Happy Belated Holidays for those of you that were celebrating!
The season is winter here. Temperatures have started dipping, the sunlight has reached an all time low for the year. We have had a little bit of rain, a couple of nasty weeks of weather, and probably enough rain.
However, the mountains near my town sit at about 10,500 and 11,000 ft respectively. As of right now, they only have a dusting of snow. From what I understand, this is the way the mountains usually look in November or in May. However, this is January. The heart of winter should be upon us. Instead, unseasonably warm temperatures have resulted in only rain in the surrounding areas, and just a little bit of snow at high elevations.
Yay for me though. Winter gives me the blues, and so these warm temperatures have kind of kept my sanity. When we have a sunny day, it is absolutely gorgeous, and the temperature gets up to around 50-55 Fahrenheit.
Talking to the local people and hearing the stories from other volunteers, last winter was excruciatingly brutal. Temperatures were bitter cold, and the amount of snow and precipitation we had was the most in about 30 years. It seems that this year is the opposite, and I hear about these 5 year cycles, where you have one or two "normal" years, and one "wet" year, and the other two or three years are "dry."
This region, and most of Morocco, have been in a drought over the past 20 years. Recently there has been a period of normalcy, but still, not enough to make up for the lack of precipitation over the long period of time.
The lack of snow on the nearby mountains worries me, and worries the people in the villages. This region relies heavily on Apple production, so much in fact that it is a export monoculture (other than wheat and corn for self). The snow on the mountains provides water into the dry months of summer, and allows for trees to maintain growth, and apples for ripen as they should. Apples also tend to be water intensive crops. Also, people in some villages have periods of dry wells and streams in the summer. In fact, most streams are dry as you get further away from their source.
So hopefully by now you can realize what problems this region might face in the summer. I worry about this, and worry that the lack of below freezing weather and snow on the mountains will crush the income generation of the region, and leave some villages without water for months on end during the summer.
Recently, over the past 30 years or so, this muskil (problem in Darija) has become worse due to two reasons, and potentially three. I will lay out these reasons, and let you come to your own decisions on if you choose to believe them.
The first reason is development. This is a good reason. As the region I live became accessible to farming, to consumerism, and more developed, the amount of resources used per person has increased. People are striving to have a better life, and build better communities for their families. You certainly cannot slight people for this. The people everywhere in developing countries deserve all of this.
The second reason is population growth. This region has doubled in population over the past 10 years. It is due to the development, and increase in living standards (health care, electricity, potable water). You also take the increase in resource use per person, and this exacerbates the problem even more when it comes to specifically water use. More farmers growing more apples equals more water needed and used. It also adds to more environmental degradation, in terms of pollution and wood use, the two major issues environmentally speaking.
The final reason is the sensitive, debatable issue. This issue is climate change. Now, before you naysayers get all uptight, just listen. Trends, whether it is just a long term cycle loop, or actual global climate change, it has hurt this country, and this region of the country. On the issue of global climate change, there are winners and losers in terms of countries. Morocco is repeatedly a loser, as the already dry regions become dryer, and the sahara/sahel regions encroach on the land here, and desertification becomes and issue. Because once an area loses its green (usually what little green it has) there is no way to return.
These trends in Morocco over the past thirty years have the potential to affect everyone. Morocco is the breadbasket of Europe, and a large majority of Europes food imports come from Morocco. So it becomes not only Morocco's problem, but Europe's problem as well. Whether you want to buy into the fact that this is due to global warming or just another cycle, that is your choice. BUT, looking at the data, Morocco has been a loser over the past 30 years or so in terms of lack of precipitation in the rainy season and increased temperatures.
I encourage you to read the book "Collapse" by Jared Diamond, who is an utmost expert on the issue of environmental degradation and cultures. I would call it Environmental Anthropology. Diamond puts all the evidence out there for the ways civlizations both now and in the past has collapsed. Probably one of the best books on this topic I have ever read.
Much Love, and Hope that you are doing well! Happy New Year and Happy Belated Holidays for those of you that were celebrating!
Saturday, December 19, 2009
It Gets Serious Now
Note to Readers:
Up until now, I tended to blog under the umbrella of the subject "cultural points." Today this changes, to an extent. I am going to begin focusing on work, some controversial issues, and trying to be more reflective and critical.
Second Note to Readers:
My apologies for not posting as frequently as I had hoped. I am attempting to change this nasty neglectfulness regarding my blog, and my outlet to you all.
Now on with the rest.
Lakefront Village
I just returned home today after traveling all day on a combination of transits, cars, taxis, and buses. The only type of transit (available in Morocco) that I was lacking was a train. I am sitting here writing, armed with a warm cup of Lipton Green Tea, and a bowl of some sort of Red Beans and Rice that my loving parents shipped (thank you!). I give you this set up, not because it is important to the story, but because in my 3 hours back from my trip, I have not yet had enough time to reflect on my previous five days away. So I may prolong and procrastinate in the entry, as my thoughts change, and as my fingers go in and out of being numb from the cold in my house.
This past week, I spent traveling, in order to work/help out on another volunteer's project. This project was a event based around health and wellness. Specifically, an association from El Jadida offered to come to this PCV's village and give up to 500 free diabetes tests, along with free eye exams. If you needed glasses, you could get them at the cheap rate of 100 DHs (13 USDs). I must also add that while the El Jadida association was heading this up, there were 2 other outside associations that combined forces.
So in all, here are the partners for this event.
- Three Associations outside of the village
- One Association within the village
- The Department of Water and Forests (In Name only)
- Three more than willing PCVs
- One PCV organizing all of the above into a great event
So myself, and 2 other PCV's traveled to my buddy's village (4 of us in all) to assist in this wonderful event. Our initial plan was to connect on the theme of wellness and healthy living for a community that was motivated and identified this as a need and want. We would conduct tooth brushing demonstrations, and also do a sort of recommended daily guidance of sugar. We were armed with toothbrushes, ready to shoot them out into the mouths of those willing to accept. We also had plans to play a little soccer, and potentially Frisbee.
We met up on Tuesday, so we had a few days to plan the event well, get ready for it all, and relax a little. About the setting: My buddy's village lies on the shores of the second biggest lake in Morocco, in the middle of the wheat belt. It is still warm in his site (like spring or fall-like), and so this provided a break from the cold, and a new part of the country to see and experience.
It is a rural village (as most environment PCV's are in rural locations), and there are no cafes and people hang out in various spots throughout the village just "shootin' the shit." I must add here that I was in an area of the country where ONLY Darija was spoken. This meant I was unable to communicate well with townspeople. BUT, this changed, and I realized I could use my context cues and non-verbals along with the verbals I knew to get by just fine. It was great getting to learn/practice Darija, and I feel like I learned a good amount.
So during this time we hung out and relaxed, and got all our work done. The dynamic we had as a group was nice, as we were all very relaxed, and it seemed as if nothing stressed us out on the surface. This created an atmosphere allowing for success. On a personal note, it also allowed for a break from some difficult times recently, and was very fulfilling.
The event itself went phenomenally, with about 200 people being tested for diabetes, and 27 people ordering glasses to be picked up at a later date. The group of us PCV's spent the day helping out, getting things when needed, and doing a tooth brushing demonstration, along with playing soccer with some of the boys (we wanted to have a girls game, but decided to not approach that idea.)
In addition to the actual event, we tried to use this event to publicize Peace Corps within the local area. My buddy (sorry I am not mentioning names) is the first volunteer in his area, and so Peace Corps is not well known. He has made some big strides since being there, and this was another sort of jump. EVERYONE of importance in the area showed up for the day. The gendarmes were there for security and order (including the boss), the Kaid was there, the Commune President as well, and the Water and Forest counterpart of my buddy. They were great, and while seeing what Peace Corps is all about, they were able to see other Americans, and have a slightly different perspective. (Side Note: My friend has long hair, as do I... I now think everyone in the village will think all American Men in their 20's has long hair)
Seeing how motivated the association within the village and in the Dept. of Water and Forests made me happy for my fellow PCV. They love him in their village, and rightfully so, as he has already done so much for them.
As the day went on, I was able to do some networking, and hopefully this sort of testing can be done in my community. I had some wonderful conversations, and one of the doctors who was volunteering himself came over, and the two of us conversed for a bit. At one point in the conversation we were thanking each other, and when he told me, "thank you," he added that "It makes me happy and is so great of you to come and help the people of my country."
It is comments like that that make my day, and I think I almost teared up. With the recent hard times, those sorts of comments re-energize me, and get me re-focused on what I am doing here.
I leave you all with this quote, by one of my favorite authors, that I have been pondering lately:
"But who can say what's best? That's why you need to grab whatever chance you have of happiness where you find it, and not worry about other people too much. My experience tells me that we get no more than two or three such chances in a life time, and if we let them go, we regret it for the rest of our lives." -Haruki Murakami (From "Norwegian Wood")
Much Love, and Happy Holidays!
Up until now, I tended to blog under the umbrella of the subject "cultural points." Today this changes, to an extent. I am going to begin focusing on work, some controversial issues, and trying to be more reflective and critical.
Second Note to Readers:
My apologies for not posting as frequently as I had hoped. I am attempting to change this nasty neglectfulness regarding my blog, and my outlet to you all.
Now on with the rest.
Lakefront Village
I just returned home today after traveling all day on a combination of transits, cars, taxis, and buses. The only type of transit (available in Morocco) that I was lacking was a train. I am sitting here writing, armed with a warm cup of Lipton Green Tea, and a bowl of some sort of Red Beans and Rice that my loving parents shipped (thank you!). I give you this set up, not because it is important to the story, but because in my 3 hours back from my trip, I have not yet had enough time to reflect on my previous five days away. So I may prolong and procrastinate in the entry, as my thoughts change, and as my fingers go in and out of being numb from the cold in my house.
This past week, I spent traveling, in order to work/help out on another volunteer's project. This project was a event based around health and wellness. Specifically, an association from El Jadida offered to come to this PCV's village and give up to 500 free diabetes tests, along with free eye exams. If you needed glasses, you could get them at the cheap rate of 100 DHs (13 USDs). I must also add that while the El Jadida association was heading this up, there were 2 other outside associations that combined forces.
So in all, here are the partners for this event.
- Three Associations outside of the village
- One Association within the village
- The Department of Water and Forests (In Name only)
- Three more than willing PCVs
- One PCV organizing all of the above into a great event
So myself, and 2 other PCV's traveled to my buddy's village (4 of us in all) to assist in this wonderful event. Our initial plan was to connect on the theme of wellness and healthy living for a community that was motivated and identified this as a need and want. We would conduct tooth brushing demonstrations, and also do a sort of recommended daily guidance of sugar. We were armed with toothbrushes, ready to shoot them out into the mouths of those willing to accept. We also had plans to play a little soccer, and potentially Frisbee.
We met up on Tuesday, so we had a few days to plan the event well, get ready for it all, and relax a little. About the setting: My buddy's village lies on the shores of the second biggest lake in Morocco, in the middle of the wheat belt. It is still warm in his site (like spring or fall-like), and so this provided a break from the cold, and a new part of the country to see and experience.
It is a rural village (as most environment PCV's are in rural locations), and there are no cafes and people hang out in various spots throughout the village just "shootin' the shit." I must add here that I was in an area of the country where ONLY Darija was spoken. This meant I was unable to communicate well with townspeople. BUT, this changed, and I realized I could use my context cues and non-verbals along with the verbals I knew to get by just fine. It was great getting to learn/practice Darija, and I feel like I learned a good amount.
So during this time we hung out and relaxed, and got all our work done. The dynamic we had as a group was nice, as we were all very relaxed, and it seemed as if nothing stressed us out on the surface. This created an atmosphere allowing for success. On a personal note, it also allowed for a break from some difficult times recently, and was very fulfilling.
The event itself went phenomenally, with about 200 people being tested for diabetes, and 27 people ordering glasses to be picked up at a later date. The group of us PCV's spent the day helping out, getting things when needed, and doing a tooth brushing demonstration, along with playing soccer with some of the boys (we wanted to have a girls game, but decided to not approach that idea.)
In addition to the actual event, we tried to use this event to publicize Peace Corps within the local area. My buddy (sorry I am not mentioning names) is the first volunteer in his area, and so Peace Corps is not well known. He has made some big strides since being there, and this was another sort of jump. EVERYONE of importance in the area showed up for the day. The gendarmes were there for security and order (including the boss), the Kaid was there, the Commune President as well, and the Water and Forest counterpart of my buddy. They were great, and while seeing what Peace Corps is all about, they were able to see other Americans, and have a slightly different perspective. (Side Note: My friend has long hair, as do I... I now think everyone in the village will think all American Men in their 20's has long hair)
Seeing how motivated the association within the village and in the Dept. of Water and Forests made me happy for my fellow PCV. They love him in their village, and rightfully so, as he has already done so much for them.
As the day went on, I was able to do some networking, and hopefully this sort of testing can be done in my community. I had some wonderful conversations, and one of the doctors who was volunteering himself came over, and the two of us conversed for a bit. At one point in the conversation we were thanking each other, and when he told me, "thank you," he added that "It makes me happy and is so great of you to come and help the people of my country."
It is comments like that that make my day, and I think I almost teared up. With the recent hard times, those sorts of comments re-energize me, and get me re-focused on what I am doing here.
I leave you all with this quote, by one of my favorite authors, that I have been pondering lately:
"But who can say what's best? That's why you need to grab whatever chance you have of happiness where you find it, and not worry about other people too much. My experience tells me that we get no more than two or three such chances in a life time, and if we let them go, we regret it for the rest of our lives." -Haruki Murakami (From "Norwegian Wood")
Much Love, and Happy Holidays!
Thursday, December 03, 2009
Snow-Capped Mountains...
Winter solitude--
in a world of one color
the sound of wind.
-Matsuo Basho
Ah yes, the return of winter. I came across this poem (a haiku, really) the other day. I enjoy it immensely.
For those of my readers that are unaware, I live at an elevation of 6200 ft... or 1950 meters, whichever you prefer to use. Many people think that "Oh yeah, Morocco is that desert country." When you live at elevation, at this latitude, you still get snow. The other day we got what I will call "the first snow on the mountain."
We have generally had gorgeous weather recently. It gets down near freezing at night, and during the day up to 60F (15 C). As long as the sun is out and beating on you, you feel quite warm. The other day this all changed (just for a brief couple of days).
We had a day of strong wind, a day of changing weather. I could tell (due to the wind) that it was going to get cloudy, and I knew this meant potentially getting rain or snow. It rained off and on for the better part of two days. The clouds were low enough that I knew once they cleared that there was a good chance of snow on the nearby mountain-top, which sits about 10,500 feet. I definitely was in anticipation, because the top of this mountain is brown and lacking in any color. When I first came to my village in May, I found snow-capped mountains. Absolutely striking in color and appearance.
Sure enough, when I awoke the next morning, I went outside (after bundling up) and checked it out. White tops and sun reflecting. I dislike cold (absolutely hate cold weather), but I figure if it is cold, we should have some snow to glance at.
One thing I am not exited for is trying to stay warm. As of right now, I am still wood-stove-less. I need to get on that. It is not super cold in my house yet, probably hovers around 55 degrees. Yes, I know that seems cold, but I just layer and sleep under numerous blankets and a sleeping-bag. However, the temperature in my house will continue to drop, and become unbearable.
In terms of the wood I will be using, I will be burning a combination of cedar and oak wood. This wood is likely harvested illegally, and it tells the story of the people here in this area, and country. Wood is necessary, but the regulation of wood-harvesting is difficult. The burning of wood, in addition to the lack of re-planting, and rapid population growth in the past 10 years (doubling) has contributed to the biggest environmental issue here... deforestation. In reality, I am now a part of this problem. But I need to stay warm, and this is the cheapest and safest way to stay warm in the coming winter. It is one of the moral issues that I face dealing with the environment here (the other being personal trash disposal...more later).
But, back to the return of winter!
It is cold here now, and while very serene and nice to have a fire going (unable to do this yet), it is going to be a long couple of months. People here tend to layer up and stay inside, so work becomes slow, and sometimes my road in/out of town becomes blocked with snow. It should be super-interesting, and eventually, I will post pictures.
With all of this said, I am glad to see the picturesque snow return to my village.
Much love to my readers (and anyone who reads this!) and hope your Thanksgiving was fantastic.
-Me!
in a world of one color
the sound of wind.
-Matsuo Basho
Ah yes, the return of winter. I came across this poem (a haiku, really) the other day. I enjoy it immensely.
For those of my readers that are unaware, I live at an elevation of 6200 ft... or 1950 meters, whichever you prefer to use. Many people think that "Oh yeah, Morocco is that desert country." When you live at elevation, at this latitude, you still get snow. The other day we got what I will call "the first snow on the mountain."
We have generally had gorgeous weather recently. It gets down near freezing at night, and during the day up to 60F (15 C). As long as the sun is out and beating on you, you feel quite warm. The other day this all changed (just for a brief couple of days).
We had a day of strong wind, a day of changing weather. I could tell (due to the wind) that it was going to get cloudy, and I knew this meant potentially getting rain or snow. It rained off and on for the better part of two days. The clouds were low enough that I knew once they cleared that there was a good chance of snow on the nearby mountain-top, which sits about 10,500 feet. I definitely was in anticipation, because the top of this mountain is brown and lacking in any color. When I first came to my village in May, I found snow-capped mountains. Absolutely striking in color and appearance.
Sure enough, when I awoke the next morning, I went outside (after bundling up) and checked it out. White tops and sun reflecting. I dislike cold (absolutely hate cold weather), but I figure if it is cold, we should have some snow to glance at.
One thing I am not exited for is trying to stay warm. As of right now, I am still wood-stove-less. I need to get on that. It is not super cold in my house yet, probably hovers around 55 degrees. Yes, I know that seems cold, but I just layer and sleep under numerous blankets and a sleeping-bag. However, the temperature in my house will continue to drop, and become unbearable.
In terms of the wood I will be using, I will be burning a combination of cedar and oak wood. This wood is likely harvested illegally, and it tells the story of the people here in this area, and country. Wood is necessary, but the regulation of wood-harvesting is difficult. The burning of wood, in addition to the lack of re-planting, and rapid population growth in the past 10 years (doubling) has contributed to the biggest environmental issue here... deforestation. In reality, I am now a part of this problem. But I need to stay warm, and this is the cheapest and safest way to stay warm in the coming winter. It is one of the moral issues that I face dealing with the environment here (the other being personal trash disposal...more later).
But, back to the return of winter!
It is cold here now, and while very serene and nice to have a fire going (unable to do this yet), it is going to be a long couple of months. People here tend to layer up and stay inside, so work becomes slow, and sometimes my road in/out of town becomes blocked with snow. It should be super-interesting, and eventually, I will post pictures.
With all of this said, I am glad to see the picturesque snow return to my village.
Much love to my readers (and anyone who reads this!) and hope your Thanksgiving was fantastic.
-Me!
Monday, November 23, 2009
In Memory of So-Youn Kim
This past week (a week ago today), Peace Corps Morocco lost one of our fantastic volunteers unexpectedly. Her name was So-Youn Kim, and she was a Youth Development Volunteer. She was 23, and while I certainly will not go into details, it was an unexpected illness.
While I certainly did not know her as well as some of my colleagues, we are a tight knit family, and I knew her as she was my post-buddy (a sort of pen-pals sort of thing we do here with fellow PCV's) and I met her just once, at a volunteer gathering.
Her kindness and her intensity were awesome. She did some amazing work in her year here as a volunteer, not just teaching English to youth, but also working with a local pottery co-op. I recently learned that she was teaching German (she was fluent in that as well.) It is just a testament of her wanting to help and assist the people where she lived. It is so sad losing someone that was just an amazing person, and so young at 23. This past Saturday we held a memorial service in the Rabat, and many people came to this to remember her and give our respects.
Here is an article about So-Youn, some of her fantastic work, and some memories via other blogs from PCVs. While I knew So-Youn a little, I knew many of her close friends well, and knowing how many lives she touched just within her year of being here makes it that much harder to lose such a vibrant, caring, an fantastic person.
http://globalvoicesonline.org/2009/11/22/morocco-peace-corps-community-honors-so-youn-kim/
Her Family and friends are in our thoughts and prayers.
While I certainly did not know her as well as some of my colleagues, we are a tight knit family, and I knew her as she was my post-buddy (a sort of pen-pals sort of thing we do here with fellow PCV's) and I met her just once, at a volunteer gathering.
Her kindness and her intensity were awesome. She did some amazing work in her year here as a volunteer, not just teaching English to youth, but also working with a local pottery co-op. I recently learned that she was teaching German (she was fluent in that as well.) It is just a testament of her wanting to help and assist the people where she lived. It is so sad losing someone that was just an amazing person, and so young at 23. This past Saturday we held a memorial service in the Rabat, and many people came to this to remember her and give our respects.
Here is an article about So-Youn, some of her fantastic work, and some memories via other blogs from PCVs. While I knew So-Youn a little, I knew many of her close friends well, and knowing how many lives she touched just within her year of being here makes it that much harder to lose such a vibrant, caring, an fantastic person.
http://globalvoicesonline.org/2009/11/22/morocco-peace-corps-community-honors-so-youn-kim/
Her Family and friends are in our thoughts and prayers.
Marrakech Madness
A few weeks ago I went to Marrakesh for a training. I was able to see Hilary Clinton, as well as stop a would-be pickpocket. Those you already know about. Now it is time to just tell you about the experience that is the tourist mecca of Morocco, the city called Marrakesh.
The way that I will break this down is based on the five senses. That seems a good way to do it, as the city is a sensual overload (well, the touristy Medina portion).
SIGHT:
Why chose sight to discuss first? I see it fitting as you see, well before you are able to do anything else (unless you have super other senses, or happen to be visually impaired).
I will first start with the bus station. A crazy mess of people running around, trying to get you to come over and talk, buses coming and going all over the country. Seeing traffic and all the different people. Different in the way they dress, more liberally dressed women, more cosmopolitan both male and female. Somewhat European dress I suppose is the best way to describe it. Groups of individuals congregated talking or playing a game of chess. Old men and women beggars standing and sitting waiting for people to drop a Dirham or two.
The Medina is up next. Old Marrakesh... Pulling up on the city bus at the Jemaa El Fna (mosque marking the area and entrance to the Medina), you see buses of tourists, and off in the distance a mass quantity of lights. This is the entrance to the Medina, the square of all squares. Chances are you have seen this in pictures before. From a distance, you can see the stalls, and see the people, so many of them just crawling around. As you get closer still you make out the different kinds of people. Snake charmers, Henna artists, fortune tellers, balloon sellers, and of course, the food stalls.
You want snails, they are here for you. Juices... step right up. Orange or Grapefruit??? Maybe you are looking to buy fresh spices for your meal making endeavor later. Paprika, curry, red pepper, cumin, salt, saffron (fake and real), rosemary, oregano, cinnamon, ginger, etc. etc. You want some dried fruits, step right up and see the dates, apricots, raisins, prunes. If none of that suits your fancy you can see all the other fine fresh foods.
Salads, Soups, Potatoes, Chicken, Beef, Lamb, Goat. Heads, legs, breasts, brain, eyes, stomach, liver, hearts, testicles?. Organs, organs, organs. You want it, you got it. Just take a seat on one of the many benches that fill the square and have your pick.
Stall owners wave to you and try to get you to come over. Sometimes you even see them reach out to grab you.
As that was just the outside of the medina, I still must discuss the inside. You enter and immediately see covered tight streets, with all of the shops. Carpets, wood, shoes, djellabas, metals, fruits, incense, leather. So many and so many more. It is a maze, and if you like to follow a map, good luck. My favorite thing to do was to just wander around aimlessly, seeing whatever was around. I saw a fight as well, but not a fist-fight. People here seem to be too cowardly for that, and just yell at each other, over seemingly little things.
Smell:
You get off the bus into the city, and you smell the fumes of cars and buses. I am not used to this, and I have come to enjoy my fairly pure mountain air. Lots of cars unregulated means lots of nasty fumes.
You get to the medina after being on a tightly packed bus, with the normal smell of the people around, which may or may not be okay. You instantly smell the food from far away. As you creep closer it becomes more intense. Until finally, you are in the mix. You want to everything, as smell and taste go hand in hand. But there is never enough time for it, and you have to be choosy as to not fill up your stomach. Smells in the square are intense, all sorts of the above mentioned foods being grilled and cooked. Smelling so appetizing.
Inside the Medina, not so many smells, but some new smells every once in a while. Smells of butcher shops and grilling foods. Smells of urine and musty old things. Carpet shops sometimes smell of old, as they hold onto carpets for what seems to be forever. After a while you kind of get used to the smells, unless something crazy strikes your senses. Like incense or something of that nature.
Taste:
So intimately related to smell, I must discuss it now. I suppose I have to discuss the things I ate, the things I did. I ate soup. It was a traditional Harira, a fantastic tomato based soup with small pasta, chick peas, lentils, and some beef? maybe it was goat or sheep. I am awful at distinguishing between those three. I enjoyed the snails. They were cooked in this broth, and it was so fantastic and not overpoweringly seafood-like. I recommend them, and they are cheap too. I drank a glass of OJ, for only 3DH it was worth it, and even though there was a lot of sugar in it, it was tasty. I also drank tea, which has a special assortment of spices in it. It was not at all good, and I had trouble drinking it all. I also got offered a date... the fruit... and gladly accepted, telling the man I would taste it, but I wasn't buying any. Also the taste of cigarettes, as people were smoking, and I would have one as well, just because. It was nasty, as it usually is for me. By the way, the brand, called Marquise, is awful, and tastes and feels like you are burning your mouth and throat. Mmm.
I ate gelato, wow was that good. I miss ice cream being readily available for me.
Sound:
This was another sense that was overloaded quickly. I am used to my quiet mountain town. In the city, you get honking, and traffic, and yelling, and talking, and new languages. People come up to you and hassle you. OH THE HASSLING. I kind of liked it though. Guys that would come up to you and offer you drugs, or offer you a place to stay. This is just the bus station (it really is not that bad though I promise). Then you add trying to get around where your language is not really spoken, you feel a bit off. But, luckily somebody understood me, and helped me out (thank you bus attendant guy).
You get to the Medina, and the low-sound of a mass quantity of people talking just fills and pollutes the air. Maybe pollute is too strong of a word. I find it somewhat appealing, but it pollutes the silence. Either way, people abound. I hear all sorts of things, French, Spanish, German, English, Arabic. People wanting me to come to eat their food, me to stay at their place, me to buy their goods, or go to their shops, buy the drugs (I have said this a lot, and it probably has to do with my appearance (Dad, I know, I should really get a hair cut), but yes, I get offered drugs a fair bit.) Potentially these are all people who are out to get a penny, make money and take advantage of me with their words.
Street food vendors telling me to come eat at their place, and then calling me names or other nasty things when I refuse. I got called a "bed-wetter." I found that humorous that he chose to use those words. Women have it hard, I felt somewhat lucky. Women get harassed in all sorts of ways with the words people speak. It is a sad fact of life in the Medina, and can be quite annoying or frustrating.
I luck out in Morocco, and I always meet people that speak the sounds I know, the languages I speak. I was called over by the snake-charmers. Rather than refusing (more on this later) I accepted, and came and spoke instantly in my Berber Language. Luckily, they were from near where I live, and we spoke, and they wanted me to sit down. I was listening to the snake-charming music with a two rattlesnakes and a cobra not more than five feet away, having a conversation with these folks about life here in Morocco, and what I am doing here. While I am going into sights again, I could see the tourists walking by and just looking at me as if to say "what the heck is that white-dude with long hair doing over there." I enjoyed that.
I had a similar conversation with some carpet shop and trinket owners. One group was super-welcoming. Another carpet shop owner, after telling him I was just looking, and not planning to buy, got upset and asked me to leave. Oh well, he was a jerk.
Touch
I did not touch a lot of things. I got grabbed by some folks and tried to get to buy a few things in stores and eat some food. Generally I dislike this, and it crosses any line. I touched some of the wool carpets, and the food I was eating, and the hot bowls of soup and cold glasses of juice. That really is about all that is worth discussing with touch.
Overall:
The Medina was crazy, and certainly is not for everyone. But I absolutely loved it. The Medina was super-intense, probably one of the most sensually overloading things I have experienced. OH yeah, and by the way, I act super-different, or probably "react" is the way to put it. I walk around like I know where I am going, what I am doing, and I speak the language, almost never speaking in English. I wear sunglasses a lot in the day, and walk around with a cigarette in my ear, and have no backpack on (not safe to do really). When people try to talk to me, I welcome it, give them my quick attention, and then they stop. They know that I am not worried or am uncomfortable with this. I go into a number of shops, and instantly tell owners I live here and will not be buying anything and will just look. They say "okay." and just leave me be to look around without trying to get me to buy buy buy. If I want to know a price, I ask, and often times I always say "too much, I am not a tourist, I live here." This helps a bunch in the bargaining process. Often times knowing the language gets me better initial prices.
I enjoy Marrakech, and even though I had a sad pick-pocketing experience, and there is abundant hassling and craziness in the Medina, it is so intense and if you want intensity, at least for a day, do it up. But my advice to you is go with the flow and not get too irritated at the people there (yes sometimes they go too far.) They are just doing what they do. If you want a laid-back medina experience, go to Fez, it is also intense, but no where near Marrakech.
Much Love!
The way that I will break this down is based on the five senses. That seems a good way to do it, as the city is a sensual overload (well, the touristy Medina portion).
SIGHT:
Why chose sight to discuss first? I see it fitting as you see, well before you are able to do anything else (unless you have super other senses, or happen to be visually impaired).
I will first start with the bus station. A crazy mess of people running around, trying to get you to come over and talk, buses coming and going all over the country. Seeing traffic and all the different people. Different in the way they dress, more liberally dressed women, more cosmopolitan both male and female. Somewhat European dress I suppose is the best way to describe it. Groups of individuals congregated talking or playing a game of chess. Old men and women beggars standing and sitting waiting for people to drop a Dirham or two.
The Medina is up next. Old Marrakesh... Pulling up on the city bus at the Jemaa El Fna (mosque marking the area and entrance to the Medina), you see buses of tourists, and off in the distance a mass quantity of lights. This is the entrance to the Medina, the square of all squares. Chances are you have seen this in pictures before. From a distance, you can see the stalls, and see the people, so many of them just crawling around. As you get closer still you make out the different kinds of people. Snake charmers, Henna artists, fortune tellers, balloon sellers, and of course, the food stalls.
You want snails, they are here for you. Juices... step right up. Orange or Grapefruit??? Maybe you are looking to buy fresh spices for your meal making endeavor later. Paprika, curry, red pepper, cumin, salt, saffron (fake and real), rosemary, oregano, cinnamon, ginger, etc. etc. You want some dried fruits, step right up and see the dates, apricots, raisins, prunes. If none of that suits your fancy you can see all the other fine fresh foods.
Salads, Soups, Potatoes, Chicken, Beef, Lamb, Goat. Heads, legs, breasts, brain, eyes, stomach, liver, hearts, testicles?. Organs, organs, organs. You want it, you got it. Just take a seat on one of the many benches that fill the square and have your pick.
Stall owners wave to you and try to get you to come over. Sometimes you even see them reach out to grab you.
As that was just the outside of the medina, I still must discuss the inside. You enter and immediately see covered tight streets, with all of the shops. Carpets, wood, shoes, djellabas, metals, fruits, incense, leather. So many and so many more. It is a maze, and if you like to follow a map, good luck. My favorite thing to do was to just wander around aimlessly, seeing whatever was around. I saw a fight as well, but not a fist-fight. People here seem to be too cowardly for that, and just yell at each other, over seemingly little things.
Smell:
You get off the bus into the city, and you smell the fumes of cars and buses. I am not used to this, and I have come to enjoy my fairly pure mountain air. Lots of cars unregulated means lots of nasty fumes.
You get to the medina after being on a tightly packed bus, with the normal smell of the people around, which may or may not be okay. You instantly smell the food from far away. As you creep closer it becomes more intense. Until finally, you are in the mix. You want to everything, as smell and taste go hand in hand. But there is never enough time for it, and you have to be choosy as to not fill up your stomach. Smells in the square are intense, all sorts of the above mentioned foods being grilled and cooked. Smelling so appetizing.
Inside the Medina, not so many smells, but some new smells every once in a while. Smells of butcher shops and grilling foods. Smells of urine and musty old things. Carpet shops sometimes smell of old, as they hold onto carpets for what seems to be forever. After a while you kind of get used to the smells, unless something crazy strikes your senses. Like incense or something of that nature.
Taste:
So intimately related to smell, I must discuss it now. I suppose I have to discuss the things I ate, the things I did. I ate soup. It was a traditional Harira, a fantastic tomato based soup with small pasta, chick peas, lentils, and some beef? maybe it was goat or sheep. I am awful at distinguishing between those three. I enjoyed the snails. They were cooked in this broth, and it was so fantastic and not overpoweringly seafood-like. I recommend them, and they are cheap too. I drank a glass of OJ, for only 3DH it was worth it, and even though there was a lot of sugar in it, it was tasty. I also drank tea, which has a special assortment of spices in it. It was not at all good, and I had trouble drinking it all. I also got offered a date... the fruit... and gladly accepted, telling the man I would taste it, but I wasn't buying any. Also the taste of cigarettes, as people were smoking, and I would have one as well, just because. It was nasty, as it usually is for me. By the way, the brand, called Marquise, is awful, and tastes and feels like you are burning your mouth and throat. Mmm.
I ate gelato, wow was that good. I miss ice cream being readily available for me.
Sound:
This was another sense that was overloaded quickly. I am used to my quiet mountain town. In the city, you get honking, and traffic, and yelling, and talking, and new languages. People come up to you and hassle you. OH THE HASSLING. I kind of liked it though. Guys that would come up to you and offer you drugs, or offer you a place to stay. This is just the bus station (it really is not that bad though I promise). Then you add trying to get around where your language is not really spoken, you feel a bit off. But, luckily somebody understood me, and helped me out (thank you bus attendant guy).
You get to the Medina, and the low-sound of a mass quantity of people talking just fills and pollutes the air. Maybe pollute is too strong of a word. I find it somewhat appealing, but it pollutes the silence. Either way, people abound. I hear all sorts of things, French, Spanish, German, English, Arabic. People wanting me to come to eat their food, me to stay at their place, me to buy their goods, or go to their shops, buy the drugs (I have said this a lot, and it probably has to do with my appearance (Dad, I know, I should really get a hair cut), but yes, I get offered drugs a fair bit.) Potentially these are all people who are out to get a penny, make money and take advantage of me with their words.
Street food vendors telling me to come eat at their place, and then calling me names or other nasty things when I refuse. I got called a "bed-wetter." I found that humorous that he chose to use those words. Women have it hard, I felt somewhat lucky. Women get harassed in all sorts of ways with the words people speak. It is a sad fact of life in the Medina, and can be quite annoying or frustrating.
I luck out in Morocco, and I always meet people that speak the sounds I know, the languages I speak. I was called over by the snake-charmers. Rather than refusing (more on this later) I accepted, and came and spoke instantly in my Berber Language. Luckily, they were from near where I live, and we spoke, and they wanted me to sit down. I was listening to the snake-charming music with a two rattlesnakes and a cobra not more than five feet away, having a conversation with these folks about life here in Morocco, and what I am doing here. While I am going into sights again, I could see the tourists walking by and just looking at me as if to say "what the heck is that white-dude with long hair doing over there." I enjoyed that.
I had a similar conversation with some carpet shop and trinket owners. One group was super-welcoming. Another carpet shop owner, after telling him I was just looking, and not planning to buy, got upset and asked me to leave. Oh well, he was a jerk.
Touch
I did not touch a lot of things. I got grabbed by some folks and tried to get to buy a few things in stores and eat some food. Generally I dislike this, and it crosses any line. I touched some of the wool carpets, and the food I was eating, and the hot bowls of soup and cold glasses of juice. That really is about all that is worth discussing with touch.
Overall:
The Medina was crazy, and certainly is not for everyone. But I absolutely loved it. The Medina was super-intense, probably one of the most sensually overloading things I have experienced. OH yeah, and by the way, I act super-different, or probably "react" is the way to put it. I walk around like I know where I am going, what I am doing, and I speak the language, almost never speaking in English. I wear sunglasses a lot in the day, and walk around with a cigarette in my ear, and have no backpack on (not safe to do really). When people try to talk to me, I welcome it, give them my quick attention, and then they stop. They know that I am not worried or am uncomfortable with this. I go into a number of shops, and instantly tell owners I live here and will not be buying anything and will just look. They say "okay." and just leave me be to look around without trying to get me to buy buy buy. If I want to know a price, I ask, and often times I always say "too much, I am not a tourist, I live here." This helps a bunch in the bargaining process. Often times knowing the language gets me better initial prices.
I enjoy Marrakech, and even though I had a sad pick-pocketing experience, and there is abundant hassling and craziness in the Medina, it is so intense and if you want intensity, at least for a day, do it up. But my advice to you is go with the flow and not get too irritated at the people there (yes sometimes they go too far.) They are just doing what they do. If you want a laid-back medina experience, go to Fez, it is also intense, but no where near Marrakech.
Much Love!
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
On the List for Hillary Clinton
Not writing for a span of a month does not mean that times were boring. In fact, times were busy, and tiring. I recently got over being sick... what I sum up to being a day that my body decided I was able to get sick and fully recover without missing anything big. I had been fighting it for about a week I think, but whatever. That is not important so much anymore. What IS important is that I was able to do a whole lot of things, including meeting (kind of) Secretary of State Hillary Clinton.
It just so happened that my training coincided with Sec. Clinton's visit for the "Forum of the Future" conference. This conference had representatives from all the G-8 countries as well as many Middle East and North African Countries, and was co-sponsored by the governments of Morocco and The United States.
Rumors about Sec. Clinton's visit abounded in the weeks preceding my recent training in Marrakesh. I had heard via a PCV who had heard via our training manager that they were trying to co-ordinate a visit from the Secretary or vice-versa, that we would go to see her. But as all rumor mills go, you take it with a grain of salt...potentially a bag of salt.
When I got to training, I found out from our Country Director that yes indeed, it was in the works, and would be Monday or Tuesday. Sec. Clinton arrived in Morocco from Israel/Palestine on Sunday, and would be leaving for Egypt on Wednesday.
The schedule changed about 15 times I believe, and what originally was supposed to be Monday, turned into Tuesday. We found out Tuesday morning that we were going to visit the Forum, and meet with Sec. Clinton. Everything that followed was kind of surreal, and a taste of what truly being "on the list" means. By the way, I have been on the list before, but never for one of the most important figures in the political world.
All 70 of us PCVs and staff loaded onto two buses, and headed off to the forum. When we got close, we saw the super increase in security, we saw the golf course surrounding the hotel, and then the hotel itself. It was an absolutely gorgeous place (naturally, right?...) We sat on the buses for a few minutes, while a group photo was finished of many of the attendees. When we got off the buses, we were met by US Embassy security staff, and we stood there for a few. They were super-kind, and it was nice to chat it up in kind of a "we both are serving our country" sort of way. We were then ushered into the hotel grounds, where we were put into two lines as to be orderly. We also had a security person checking our names off of the list provided by our Country Director (we all had passports as well).
We were led inside the conference center, where we passed all of these big shots dresses in suits and various business formal wear (think middle east business wear.) We went down inside this conference room, and there we sat and waited. While we were waiting a number of things happened:
1. Sec. Clinton's schedule changed five more times.
2. The new US Ambassador to Morocco spoke (We had met him on Sunday at our hotel)
3. A few PCV's spoke (including the now famous Muriel Johnson See CNN ARTICLE )
4. Then we got the procedures for when Hillary Clinton comes through the doors
Secretary Clinton came in, said a few words ( Transcript found HERE ) and then shook some hands of PCVs sitting on the rows, as well as the US Embassy staff and guests. The Secretary then bustled out the door, onto her next lunch or other meeting. We then waited about 45 minutes for her to leave the conference center, as no one was aloud to go near the motorcade (tight tight security eh?). BUT, this gave us a chance to once again talk with US Embassy staff about their jobs, and see what it is like for them to do what they do so so well. Also, they were interested to hear about what we did, and it was kind of humorous to think that some of them have no idea about the life we live as Peace Corps Volunteers.
So this is the story. Now my reaction to it all. Even while writing this now, It all seems pretty surreal. Initially I really did not think I would be impressed. But instead, I was floored with all the security, and the craziness of it all. I felt very privileged not only to have been a guest for a Embassy meet and greet (150 people i think) with the Secretary of State Clinton, but also that I had met and talked to the Ambassador to Morocco not just once, but twice in the span of three days.
I think what I am trying to say is that I felt special (wow that is cheesy eh?), but not in that stuck up "I am on the list" sort of way (yeah I know, it is the title of this post right.) INSTEAD, I felt that sort of camaraderie about being somewhere and serving your country, and that there are so many of us here just in Morocco doing that, where it be within Embassy posts, PCVs, Fullbrighters, USAID people, and so many others that I probably forgot or do not even know.
Sometimes, just going through the day to day basics of being in the same place, I tend to forget how privileged I am to be actually representing my country. This is not to say I take it for granted. I feel lucky everyday to be able to be in this amazing place, doing this amazing work, and meeting and learning some amazing things. There are just times that because of what I am doing here I get to meet some pretty amazing people, and it is a sort of "reality check." Hopefully you understand what I mean by this all.
It just so happened that my training coincided with Sec. Clinton's visit for the "Forum of the Future" conference. This conference had representatives from all the G-8 countries as well as many Middle East and North African Countries, and was co-sponsored by the governments of Morocco and The United States.
Rumors about Sec. Clinton's visit abounded in the weeks preceding my recent training in Marrakesh. I had heard via a PCV who had heard via our training manager that they were trying to co-ordinate a visit from the Secretary or vice-versa, that we would go to see her. But as all rumor mills go, you take it with a grain of salt...potentially a bag of salt.
When I got to training, I found out from our Country Director that yes indeed, it was in the works, and would be Monday or Tuesday. Sec. Clinton arrived in Morocco from Israel/Palestine on Sunday, and would be leaving for Egypt on Wednesday.
The schedule changed about 15 times I believe, and what originally was supposed to be Monday, turned into Tuesday. We found out Tuesday morning that we were going to visit the Forum, and meet with Sec. Clinton. Everything that followed was kind of surreal, and a taste of what truly being "on the list" means. By the way, I have been on the list before, but never for one of the most important figures in the political world.
All 70 of us PCVs and staff loaded onto two buses, and headed off to the forum. When we got close, we saw the super increase in security, we saw the golf course surrounding the hotel, and then the hotel itself. It was an absolutely gorgeous place (naturally, right?...) We sat on the buses for a few minutes, while a group photo was finished of many of the attendees. When we got off the buses, we were met by US Embassy security staff, and we stood there for a few. They were super-kind, and it was nice to chat it up in kind of a "we both are serving our country" sort of way. We were then ushered into the hotel grounds, where we were put into two lines as to be orderly. We also had a security person checking our names off of the list provided by our Country Director (we all had passports as well).
We were led inside the conference center, where we passed all of these big shots dresses in suits and various business formal wear (think middle east business wear.) We went down inside this conference room, and there we sat and waited. While we were waiting a number of things happened:
1. Sec. Clinton's schedule changed five more times.
2. The new US Ambassador to Morocco spoke (We had met him on Sunday at our hotel)
3. A few PCV's spoke (including the now famous Muriel Johnson See CNN ARTICLE )
4. Then we got the procedures for when Hillary Clinton comes through the doors
Secretary Clinton came in, said a few words ( Transcript found HERE ) and then shook some hands of PCVs sitting on the rows, as well as the US Embassy staff and guests. The Secretary then bustled out the door, onto her next lunch or other meeting. We then waited about 45 minutes for her to leave the conference center, as no one was aloud to go near the motorcade (tight tight security eh?). BUT, this gave us a chance to once again talk with US Embassy staff about their jobs, and see what it is like for them to do what they do so so well. Also, they were interested to hear about what we did, and it was kind of humorous to think that some of them have no idea about the life we live as Peace Corps Volunteers.
So this is the story. Now my reaction to it all. Even while writing this now, It all seems pretty surreal. Initially I really did not think I would be impressed. But instead, I was floored with all the security, and the craziness of it all. I felt very privileged not only to have been a guest for a Embassy meet and greet (150 people i think) with the Secretary of State Clinton, but also that I had met and talked to the Ambassador to Morocco not just once, but twice in the span of three days.
I think what I am trying to say is that I felt special (wow that is cheesy eh?), but not in that stuck up "I am on the list" sort of way (yeah I know, it is the title of this post right.) INSTEAD, I felt that sort of camaraderie about being somewhere and serving your country, and that there are so many of us here just in Morocco doing that, where it be within Embassy posts, PCVs, Fullbrighters, USAID people, and so many others that I probably forgot or do not even know.
Sometimes, just going through the day to day basics of being in the same place, I tend to forget how privileged I am to be actually representing my country. This is not to say I take it for granted. I feel lucky everyday to be able to be in this amazing place, doing this amazing work, and meeting and learning some amazing things. There are just times that because of what I am doing here I get to meet some pretty amazing people, and it is a sort of "reality check." Hopefully you understand what I mean by this all.
Monday, November 09, 2009
Caught Red-Handed
So it has been a good month since I posted anything, and a few things have happened since then. I have been swamped with work, and had a training this past week in Marrakesh. While I certainly will write about other topics, I wanted to address this topic first. Mainly because it is super-fresh in my mind.
I like to think that people are generally good people. But, sometimes, I know that there are crappy people that look to harass you or try to swindle you out of your money or things.
The past week I spent in Marrakesh for a training and was fortunate to meet up and hang out and catch up with other volunteers from around Morocco. It was also a chance for me to experience a new place, probably the most touristy in all of Morocco.
I had heard from others who had gone previously that I would not like Marrakesh, due to the harassment of guides, vendors, and random street folks. Kind of sad, but I would expect that in a place so touristy.
While all of those things were present, I absolutely enjoyed the city, and all of the various people watching that came along with it. Sure, I got harassed, was asked to leave a store because I was just "looking" and not "buying", and was called a "bed-wetter" (I am still wondering how he knew!!! hehe) when I would not let a guy help us find somewhere. In a future post I will tell you of my adventures in this touristy place, but in fact, I do thoroughly enjoy 'Kech, just as much as I enjoy Fes (for different reasons of course). But I have a story that trumps it all, and needs to be shared.
One night, I was making my way to the train station, to see what times trains were leaving the next day. I was carrying a backpack, and had a plastic bag and a plant in one hand (right hand), and the other hand (left hand) was free. I happened to be at a place called Jemaa El Fna. If you have never heard of such a place, you have certainly seen pictures. This is the place where all the food vendors set up shop, selling everything from OJ, to dates, to snails, to brains, to soup. It is a hustle and bustle of a place, probably the most touristy in Morocco, and the place happened to be full of people. It was a holiday, the Green March, celebrating Morocco's march into the Western Sahara region.
Having finished indulging on the food and people watching, I was waiting at the nearby bus hub for bus number 8, that would take me to the train station. The bus area was full of people. So when my bus pulled up, everyone crowded around the one door. Moroccans have difficulties in waiting their turn and lining up, and this situation was no different. While I hate doing it, I had no choice but to join them, and to kind of push my way towards the door. The only problem was that my hand was full, and I did not want to drop anything.
As I started to push to the door, I thought to myself "this is the perfect time to be pickpocketed, your hands are full and you are in a crowd with almost no space between people." So being kind of vigilant, I recalled a little boy unzipping my bag a few months back. It just so happened that during this time, a little boy (maybe 5) was fidgeting with my backpack. I kept giving him looks and tried to separate distance. But then I saw he was messing with a book, and I thought, "little boy, you can take my book if you wish."
At the same time I was paying attention to this boy, the group of us were still pushing for the door. The next set of events still are kind of blurry (at least the first few), but it got crazy.
I turned my head around, and swore that I felt something rubbing against my pocket. I looked down, and did not really see anything. I looked back up, and instantly realized that in fact I DID see something going on underneath my shirt that was hanging over my left pocket. I looked down again, and this time saw fidgeting in my pocket, and felt it. I instantly (kind of instinctively) looked up to see the guy next to me peering down towards my pocket, and his arm extended the same direction. I knew instantly this guy was in my pocket. (Remember, this is all within a few seconds)
I, like many of you, dislike when someone reaches into my pocket without invitation. So I then pulled his arm out. I did not let go, and was able to get an arm bar so he could not quickly bolt. I held on, and once again, instinctively, began yelling as loud as I could "Thief", in Moroccan Arabic. About as instantly as I yelled this two things happened.
The first thing was that the guy gave me my money back. He had in his hand my change purse. If you know my change purse, it is a cute Winnie the Pooh purse. In it, I had about 7 DH in change. Not much, the equivalent of about .90 Cents. His reaction in my opinion was priceless and ludicrous. He just handed it back, as if to say "You caught me, you win, here is your money back." I continued to hold onto his arm and then feel my pocket to make sure I had my camera and cell phone, both of which were in that same pocket.
The second thing that happened almost instantly after I started yelling, was that everyone stepped back, and basically created a circle around me and the thief. This allowed the thief no where to bolt through, and after I finally realized I had all of my belongings, I let go of his arm. The circle aloud me to face the guy, where I got in his face and shamed him in front of all the people. He then kind of walked off, and I think took his jacket off so he looked different.
I was glad my hand was full, because I really think I would have punched and or tackled him and held him to the ground until the police came. But I realized that would not have been smart, as he may have been working with other people, or he may have had a knife. But yes, I really wanted to hit him, and decided just to get on the bus instead.
I got on the bus, and talked to a guy who told me my knowledge of Moroccan Arabic saved me. After telling him I spoke no Darija, I spoke a berber language, he asked if I was a PCV. He told me I did the right thing (which I knew I did). The adrenaline rush continued for a few minutes, and eventually it wore off.
Afterward, I have replayed the situation over and over. I know I did everything right, and for that I am proud of myself for reacting so fast the way that I did. It is never comfortable to have that happen, but I know that hopefully in these situations I am prepared.
Lastly, if you do ever travel into places that are swarming with tourists, be on guard. I have had too many friends be pick-pocketed or held-up at knife-point in places like Rome or Paris.
I like to think that people are generally good people. But, sometimes, I know that there are crappy people that look to harass you or try to swindle you out of your money or things.
The past week I spent in Marrakesh for a training and was fortunate to meet up and hang out and catch up with other volunteers from around Morocco. It was also a chance for me to experience a new place, probably the most touristy in all of Morocco.
I had heard from others who had gone previously that I would not like Marrakesh, due to the harassment of guides, vendors, and random street folks. Kind of sad, but I would expect that in a place so touristy.
While all of those things were present, I absolutely enjoyed the city, and all of the various people watching that came along with it. Sure, I got harassed, was asked to leave a store because I was just "looking" and not "buying", and was called a "bed-wetter" (I am still wondering how he knew!!! hehe) when I would not let a guy help us find somewhere. In a future post I will tell you of my adventures in this touristy place, but in fact, I do thoroughly enjoy 'Kech, just as much as I enjoy Fes (for different reasons of course). But I have a story that trumps it all, and needs to be shared.
One night, I was making my way to the train station, to see what times trains were leaving the next day. I was carrying a backpack, and had a plastic bag and a plant in one hand (right hand), and the other hand (left hand) was free. I happened to be at a place called Jemaa El Fna. If you have never heard of such a place, you have certainly seen pictures. This is the place where all the food vendors set up shop, selling everything from OJ, to dates, to snails, to brains, to soup. It is a hustle and bustle of a place, probably the most touristy in Morocco, and the place happened to be full of people. It was a holiday, the Green March, celebrating Morocco's march into the Western Sahara region.
Having finished indulging on the food and people watching, I was waiting at the nearby bus hub for bus number 8, that would take me to the train station. The bus area was full of people. So when my bus pulled up, everyone crowded around the one door. Moroccans have difficulties in waiting their turn and lining up, and this situation was no different. While I hate doing it, I had no choice but to join them, and to kind of push my way towards the door. The only problem was that my hand was full, and I did not want to drop anything.
As I started to push to the door, I thought to myself "this is the perfect time to be pickpocketed, your hands are full and you are in a crowd with almost no space between people." So being kind of vigilant, I recalled a little boy unzipping my bag a few months back. It just so happened that during this time, a little boy (maybe 5) was fidgeting with my backpack. I kept giving him looks and tried to separate distance. But then I saw he was messing with a book, and I thought, "little boy, you can take my book if you wish."
At the same time I was paying attention to this boy, the group of us were still pushing for the door. The next set of events still are kind of blurry (at least the first few), but it got crazy.
I turned my head around, and swore that I felt something rubbing against my pocket. I looked down, and did not really see anything. I looked back up, and instantly realized that in fact I DID see something going on underneath my shirt that was hanging over my left pocket. I looked down again, and this time saw fidgeting in my pocket, and felt it. I instantly (kind of instinctively) looked up to see the guy next to me peering down towards my pocket, and his arm extended the same direction. I knew instantly this guy was in my pocket. (Remember, this is all within a few seconds)
I, like many of you, dislike when someone reaches into my pocket without invitation. So I then pulled his arm out. I did not let go, and was able to get an arm bar so he could not quickly bolt. I held on, and once again, instinctively, began yelling as loud as I could "Thief", in Moroccan Arabic. About as instantly as I yelled this two things happened.
The first thing was that the guy gave me my money back. He had in his hand my change purse. If you know my change purse, it is a cute Winnie the Pooh purse. In it, I had about 7 DH in change. Not much, the equivalent of about .90 Cents. His reaction in my opinion was priceless and ludicrous. He just handed it back, as if to say "You caught me, you win, here is your money back." I continued to hold onto his arm and then feel my pocket to make sure I had my camera and cell phone, both of which were in that same pocket.
The second thing that happened almost instantly after I started yelling, was that everyone stepped back, and basically created a circle around me and the thief. This allowed the thief no where to bolt through, and after I finally realized I had all of my belongings, I let go of his arm. The circle aloud me to face the guy, where I got in his face and shamed him in front of all the people. He then kind of walked off, and I think took his jacket off so he looked different.
I was glad my hand was full, because I really think I would have punched and or tackled him and held him to the ground until the police came. But I realized that would not have been smart, as he may have been working with other people, or he may have had a knife. But yes, I really wanted to hit him, and decided just to get on the bus instead.
I got on the bus, and talked to a guy who told me my knowledge of Moroccan Arabic saved me. After telling him I spoke no Darija, I spoke a berber language, he asked if I was a PCV. He told me I did the right thing (which I knew I did). The adrenaline rush continued for a few minutes, and eventually it wore off.
Afterward, I have replayed the situation over and over. I know I did everything right, and for that I am proud of myself for reacting so fast the way that I did. It is never comfortable to have that happen, but I know that hopefully in these situations I am prepared.
Lastly, if you do ever travel into places that are swarming with tourists, be on guard. I have had too many friends be pick-pocketed or held-up at knife-point in places like Rome or Paris.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Imilchil Wedding Festival
So we rode into the Wedding Festival, tent and poles in tow, hoping to get a good spot. We were riding in the cab of a dumptruck, with a group of locals that we knew from another PCV. Along in our dump-truck were some other people riding in the back, and two steers and a calf. It was a slow ride up winding hills as the cameo was full, so the ride took longer than if we were in a transit van.
When we arrived, the general picture we saw was the above shot. A multitude of trucks, tents, animals and people. It was a super windy day, and due to the lack of trees or other flora, there was a pseudo-duststorm. It was nasty, and I was earning to get into a tent away from the blowing dust that was caking my face, eyes, hair, and teeth (yes! you can feel the layer of grit on your teeth).
The cameo parked, and my fellow PCV Liz went to go and find out where we were going to be stationed. I agreed to stay with the bulky stuff, as it was pointless to carry it anywhere. As I stood there, the guys with the cameo truck began to unload their cargo... the steers and calf. They had tied ropes onto the horns of the steers, one proper on the horns, the other around the nose area. They were tugging on the ropes trying to get the steers to get out of the trucks. They were stubborn, and wanted nothing to do with it. I was standing there, so I decided to help pull.
We finally got the first steer out. I help onto the rope, in order to keep it there and not run off. The steer was bulky, naturally, because they had fattened him up in order to sell him at the souq. He also was difficult. There were two of us to the steer, me on one rope, and another guy on the other. We were pulling in opposite directions, so the steer could not budge. But, the stubborn, husky steer resisted, and yanked and pulled us around. Another guy had a stick to hit the steer, but it was just like a fly, and barely phased the steer. He continued to wait for an opportune moment, trying to get free. He lowered his head and tried to get his horns into me (they were small horns) in order to get me to the ground and stamp on me. He also tried to lever his body into mine. My reaction was to do the same, which seems funny because I was certainly no match for the steer's immense size. This steer was difficult, but I knew if I let go the steer would go crazy.
After a few minutes of this, while the calf and the steer were being unloaded, I finally was relieved of my duty. I watched as they led the group of cows to the area they needed to go. From afar, I saw the difficult steer pulling two of the guys. I found this humorous, yet obviously a steer in a crowd is dangerous. As far as I know, all ended well.
That was just the introduction to the Imilchil Wedding Festival. The festival is due to a story. Basically, a very Romeo and Juliet story. A man and women fall in love, but are from rival tribes. They are forbidden from each other, and wept. Their tears created two lakes (Tislit and Isli), which means bride and groom. They then committed suicide in the lakes via drowning, and the tribes became friends, allowing marriage. That is the concise version (Go here to see the story)
So the festival exists for two reasons. One is so that to-be brides can choose their groom. Usually the brides are widows or divorcees, but there are also young women as well. They walk around the souq, covered completely except for their eyes. They wear the traditional colors, so they stand out. They walk around the souq and talk to people, or just eye people. The other reason for the festival in the fall, is that traditionally, winter here is hard, and it is difficult to get out. So the souq provides a way to stock up for the winter on all the good you need. Now, this part of Morocco is not as isolated as it was as little as 5 years ago, so it is no longer as full as it used to be. Regardless, it was still packed!
The point of my going to the festival was two-sided. Naturally, this is one of the most well known festivals in Morocco, and one of the largest and most traditional. I live close, so I really wanted to go and see it. In addition, some other volunteers in the area and I decided to have an informational tent about the nearby Eastern High Atlas National Park. Working with our counterparts from the Department of Water and Forests, we had a tent with informational panels and pamphlets about the EHANP, and the natural environment. We talked to local people at the festival about various environmental concerns in the area, including deforestation.
The festival was three days, and in the evenings, there were concerts in nearby Imilchil. The weather was chilly and rainy for the last two days, but that really did not put a damper on things.
As for the souq itself, it was huge (see picture). There were all sorts of fruits and vegetables, along with other random goods. In addition, there were used clothes tents and artisanal products like rugs and scarves. There were butchers to buy all kinds of chicken, sheep, goat, turkey, and beef. You could then take the meat to a griller who would cook your food, and you could eat super fresh meat!
There were also animal vendors, where you could buy various farm animals. Animals included were cattle, sheep, goats, mules, donkeys, horses, AND... CAMELS! I have never seen so many camels, and so I snapped a number of pictures.
During the souq, I happened to talk to a number of people. One of the groups I talked to were a group of want to-be brides. I was standing with another female PCV, and she was talking to them. I said hello, and they asked the women if I was her husband. She said no, and I jumped in and said that I was not married. This was followed by one of the women (I say women, but they were more than likely under 18) asking me to marry her. I had no idea what to say, so I went into my normal routine of saying that I was still too young, etc. This always gets a laugh, as I am 27, and of prime marrying age here in Morocco. Luckily for me, Men should be established with job and income, something I do not have. But this would probably be overlooked due to the fact I am American. Even still, it was really humorous.
I also bought my first touristy item, a small half wool/half cotton carpet made by artisans. The origin of the carpet is from near Meknes. It is nice and red, with very nice traditional patterns. What I love about living here is the fact I can ask where something is made, and know where it is located. I also have learned much about carpets here, and it is quite fascinating.
Overall, the Wedding fest was a great experience. If you want to see more pictures, become friends with me on facebook, or shoot me an email and i can send you the links for the pictures. I hope to be posting more in the future, and hope to be posting more controversial topics (about environment etc.). I am reading books at the moment which relate to this topic, and I wish to discuss them with you all!
Much Love, and email to say hello or come visit!
Eric
Book of the Time: Guns, Germs, and Steel - Jarod Diamond
Album of the Time: Kings of Convenience - Declaration of Dependence
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Fasting, and Breaking Fast (Part 3)
This is my third and final post in the series dealing with Ramadan. The first two posts dealt with the daily schedule, and the food of Ramadan, respectively. For this final post I will discuss Ramadan as an experience, and how I feel going through it.
For those of you who did not already know, I have been fasting completely during the month. No food and no water until the evening call to prayer. The no food thing has been easy after about the first week, your body just gets used to it. However, the no water situation can get to be tricky, especially if one is travelling, or in a hot location etc. Luckily for me, my village is in the mountains, and the hottest it gets here maybe 95 degrees. That is few and far between, and with very little humidity. So traveling was the difficult situation, which I will touch on in a minute.
There are different interpretations of the Koran, just as there are for the Bible. When it comes to Ramadan, this can make things tricky. Let me give you an example. One interpretation for Ramadan is that nothing is to pass your mouth during the fast. This includes rinsing a dry mouth with water, or brushing your teeth. I brush my teeth everyday twice (I should do it three times I know). Technically, some people view this as breaking fast. But I am not swallowing anything (water/toothpaste), so what does this actually mean. Other people say that it is okay to brush teeth or rinse mouth out and spit. The confusion also goes for traveling, as some believe if you are a certain distance away from your home you do not need to fast (you do however HAVE to make it up after Ramadan is over). Others feel that travelers should fast as well. In my travel experiences, most everyone fasts. I mean, I live in a country where people can be arrested if they are seen breaking fast in public (Moroccan citizens that is.)
As an overall experience, I was happy to fast during Ramadan, in order to see and feel what it is like. Generally, fasting helps your integration into a community. People on the street ask me all the time if I am fasting. They then confirm by saying “no water too.” They then give me a little pat on the back. We then have a little discussion about how Ramadan is a “difficult time.” Sometimes people will pick up on the lack of energy I had some days, and just pick up on the fact that I was fasting.
Health-wise, Ramadan is not good for your general health. In my case, I would fast all day, and then breaking fast, I would gorge myself, as it was my one meal of the day. Not good for the system to be deprived of food, then given everything at once. Also, most of the food I ate was carbohydrate intensive, so I was not getting my daily amount of fruits and vegetables. So to supplement, I would buy fruit like figs and just eat them at my house. Most Moroccans eat a midnight dinner as well, just before going to sleep. Eating before sleeping is also unhealthy, as your body does not digest the food as well when you are sleeping.
When it comes to water, not drinking it during the day is certainly not good for the body. Your body needs to flush out toxins and needs water to break down food. I found that the lack of water was the most trying thing at times, especially on the days where I had to travel or do work outside. One of the first days of Ramadan, I had to travel through Fes, on a day where it was 110 degrees easily. It was difficult. I can only imagine what Ramadan is like for the people in the south of the country, where it reaches 120+ degree temperatures during the day.
Overall for me, my health was pretty good. I tried to take care of myself supplementing fruits, and making sure to drink water and juices to get vitamins. I got sick one day during Ramadan, and I lost any water I had, and just became weak. I also found that in general, my focus was lacking. Maybe it was my body telling me I needed to give it important things, but I found that I could not concentrate on things for very long. So doing things like reading for extended periods, or writing emails or blogs became difficult.
I do not think that generally, most Moroccans are educated on the issues of health during Ramadan. I heard a number of times that fasting is good for your health. Maybe it is good due to the added assistance of the guy above. But certainly, Ramadan is a very unhealthy month.
There were some really great experiences during Ramadan as well. I mentioned above that people would ask me if I was fasting. I enjoyed being asked this question, as I sometimes would get the follow-up question of “why?” I would tell people that I was fasting because everyone in Morocco does it, and it is just the culture, and I respect the culture and the religion. It was a good opportunity to help integrate myself a bit more.
Also, the feeling of solidarity that I had was great (especially in the beginning.) Everyone is fasting, and so you are all in this together. I would meet people for the first time, and they would ask me about fasting, and then instantly we would have that bond. Knowing that millions of people not only in the country but around the world were fasting created this solidarity. Religions everywhere have things that create solidarity and a support network, but it was a greater extent than I had experienced before.
While most everyone was happy and fine during Ramadan, there were some situations where this was not the case. I saw fights and arguments almost everyday during Ramadan. Seemingly little things got blown out of proportion. There was a lot of yelling. People had very little patience, and would not care if people were ahead of them waiting to buy food at a store or a ticket at a bus station (generally, Moroccans are not known for their line standing skills, but during Ramadan this is exacerbated). There were times I felt like people were just using Ramadan as an excuse to blow up on each other. I mean, I was fasting, and while I felt impatient at times and irritated at times at people, I still controlled myself. So I felt the contradiction that people were fasting for religious purpose, yet they seemed to be using it as an excuse to get aggravated and relieve frustrations.
I think that is all I wanted to discuss. If you have questions about Ramadan, let me know (email me or skype, I have internet now). I learned so much in the past month about Ramadan and the religion itself. It was a great experience to be in an Islamic country during the holy month.
Much Love,
Me
Current Book: 1491 – Charles Mann
Current Music: Kid Cudi – Man on the Moon at the End of the Day
For those of you who did not already know, I have been fasting completely during the month. No food and no water until the evening call to prayer. The no food thing has been easy after about the first week, your body just gets used to it. However, the no water situation can get to be tricky, especially if one is travelling, or in a hot location etc. Luckily for me, my village is in the mountains, and the hottest it gets here maybe 95 degrees. That is few and far between, and with very little humidity. So traveling was the difficult situation, which I will touch on in a minute.
There are different interpretations of the Koran, just as there are for the Bible. When it comes to Ramadan, this can make things tricky. Let me give you an example. One interpretation for Ramadan is that nothing is to pass your mouth during the fast. This includes rinsing a dry mouth with water, or brushing your teeth. I brush my teeth everyday twice (I should do it three times I know). Technically, some people view this as breaking fast. But I am not swallowing anything (water/toothpaste), so what does this actually mean. Other people say that it is okay to brush teeth or rinse mouth out and spit. The confusion also goes for traveling, as some believe if you are a certain distance away from your home you do not need to fast (you do however HAVE to make it up after Ramadan is over). Others feel that travelers should fast as well. In my travel experiences, most everyone fasts. I mean, I live in a country where people can be arrested if they are seen breaking fast in public (Moroccan citizens that is.)
As an overall experience, I was happy to fast during Ramadan, in order to see and feel what it is like. Generally, fasting helps your integration into a community. People on the street ask me all the time if I am fasting. They then confirm by saying “no water too.” They then give me a little pat on the back. We then have a little discussion about how Ramadan is a “difficult time.” Sometimes people will pick up on the lack of energy I had some days, and just pick up on the fact that I was fasting.
Health-wise, Ramadan is not good for your general health. In my case, I would fast all day, and then breaking fast, I would gorge myself, as it was my one meal of the day. Not good for the system to be deprived of food, then given everything at once. Also, most of the food I ate was carbohydrate intensive, so I was not getting my daily amount of fruits and vegetables. So to supplement, I would buy fruit like figs and just eat them at my house. Most Moroccans eat a midnight dinner as well, just before going to sleep. Eating before sleeping is also unhealthy, as your body does not digest the food as well when you are sleeping.
When it comes to water, not drinking it during the day is certainly not good for the body. Your body needs to flush out toxins and needs water to break down food. I found that the lack of water was the most trying thing at times, especially on the days where I had to travel or do work outside. One of the first days of Ramadan, I had to travel through Fes, on a day where it was 110 degrees easily. It was difficult. I can only imagine what Ramadan is like for the people in the south of the country, where it reaches 120+ degree temperatures during the day.
Overall for me, my health was pretty good. I tried to take care of myself supplementing fruits, and making sure to drink water and juices to get vitamins. I got sick one day during Ramadan, and I lost any water I had, and just became weak. I also found that in general, my focus was lacking. Maybe it was my body telling me I needed to give it important things, but I found that I could not concentrate on things for very long. So doing things like reading for extended periods, or writing emails or blogs became difficult.
I do not think that generally, most Moroccans are educated on the issues of health during Ramadan. I heard a number of times that fasting is good for your health. Maybe it is good due to the added assistance of the guy above. But certainly, Ramadan is a very unhealthy month.
There were some really great experiences during Ramadan as well. I mentioned above that people would ask me if I was fasting. I enjoyed being asked this question, as I sometimes would get the follow-up question of “why?” I would tell people that I was fasting because everyone in Morocco does it, and it is just the culture, and I respect the culture and the religion. It was a good opportunity to help integrate myself a bit more.
Also, the feeling of solidarity that I had was great (especially in the beginning.) Everyone is fasting, and so you are all in this together. I would meet people for the first time, and they would ask me about fasting, and then instantly we would have that bond. Knowing that millions of people not only in the country but around the world were fasting created this solidarity. Religions everywhere have things that create solidarity and a support network, but it was a greater extent than I had experienced before.
While most everyone was happy and fine during Ramadan, there were some situations where this was not the case. I saw fights and arguments almost everyday during Ramadan. Seemingly little things got blown out of proportion. There was a lot of yelling. People had very little patience, and would not care if people were ahead of them waiting to buy food at a store or a ticket at a bus station (generally, Moroccans are not known for their line standing skills, but during Ramadan this is exacerbated). There were times I felt like people were just using Ramadan as an excuse to blow up on each other. I mean, I was fasting, and while I felt impatient at times and irritated at times at people, I still controlled myself. So I felt the contradiction that people were fasting for religious purpose, yet they seemed to be using it as an excuse to get aggravated and relieve frustrations.
I think that is all I wanted to discuss. If you have questions about Ramadan, let me know (email me or skype, I have internet now). I learned so much in the past month about Ramadan and the religion itself. It was a great experience to be in an Islamic country during the holy month.
Much Love,
Me
Current Book: 1491 – Charles Mann
Current Music: Kid Cudi – Man on the Moon at the End of the Day
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
Fasting, and Breaking Fast (Part 2)
The food of Ramadan is completely different then I have had before coming to Morocco. While I had technically had eaten everything that is served during Ramadan while I have been in Morocco, I had yet to eat them all at the same meal. So here are the typical foods and drinks for breaking fast.
Coffee/Tea – Drank throughout the meal. Coffee basically is hot milk topped off with a bit of coffee. Tea (and coffee) is typical for Moroccan breakfasts and tea times.
Water – Self-explanatory; after fasting all day, it is important to drink water. However, common misinformation in Morocco has it that you need to drink tea/coffee first. Not sure exactly the story behind this bit.
Dates – Usually, dates are the first thing eaten when the call to prayer goes off in the evening. Morocco is famous for dates, and they are quite good.
Shabekiya – These are the cookies/pastries eaten during Ramadan. It is a mix of almond, anise, butter, and flour and sugar (probably other things as well, but I forget off hand). Cut out and folded, and then fried. After frying, it is dipped immediately into a pot of honey. Then it is taken out, sprinkled with sesame seeds, and cooled. The honey soaks into some of the pastry, making it super sweet.
Eggs – Hard Boiled eggs, either eaten on their own with a pinch of cumin and salt, or else mixed in with the Harira (soup).
Harira – Traditional Ramadan soup, a semi-spicy tomato based soup with small bits of meat, pasta, chick peas, lentils added for some good protein. Usually 2-3 bowls are eaten by people while breaking fast.
Smeeta – This is a dry almond blend, similar to what is in Shabekiya (other than flour and butter). Also eaten at the various celebrations in Morocco and during tea times.
Fat Bread – Yes, it is what is sounds like… I am not sure exactly how it is made, but basically bread that is stuffed with a mix of fat, vegetables, and spices. Reminds me of what a calzone would be like minus the sauce and the meat. Even though it sounds odd, it is fantastic.
Desert – This is the American’s addition to breaking fast. I typically eat with my site-mate, and she makes a mean desert. So sometimes she/we will cook things like apple turnovers, or a pineapple upside down cake, and bring them along. The host family enjoys them, and it is a good way to show them typical American dishes.
So overall, it may seem like a lot of little things, but you basically stuff your face and stomach. After your stomach has contracted all day and you are dehydrated, you stuff yourself until you are uncomfortable. You have a lack of calories and nutrients, and all of the sudden your body is forced to digest. It basically results in a food coma that leaves you feeling out of it for a while, and uncomfortable. I will add that typically, Moroccans also eat a dinner around 1-2am (typical Tajine type dish), before going off to sleep. I pass on that, and just break fast, and then later eat some fruit before I go off to bed. Recently grapes and figs have been the fruits of choice.
I think that basically covers the food potion of Ramadan. In my last part of this Ramadan series, I am going to discuss my thoughts about Ramadan, and the sorts of things that I see and hear around my village.
Much Love,
Me!
Coffee/Tea – Drank throughout the meal. Coffee basically is hot milk topped off with a bit of coffee. Tea (and coffee) is typical for Moroccan breakfasts and tea times.
Water – Self-explanatory; after fasting all day, it is important to drink water. However, common misinformation in Morocco has it that you need to drink tea/coffee first. Not sure exactly the story behind this bit.
Dates – Usually, dates are the first thing eaten when the call to prayer goes off in the evening. Morocco is famous for dates, and they are quite good.
Shabekiya – These are the cookies/pastries eaten during Ramadan. It is a mix of almond, anise, butter, and flour and sugar (probably other things as well, but I forget off hand). Cut out and folded, and then fried. After frying, it is dipped immediately into a pot of honey. Then it is taken out, sprinkled with sesame seeds, and cooled. The honey soaks into some of the pastry, making it super sweet.
Eggs – Hard Boiled eggs, either eaten on their own with a pinch of cumin and salt, or else mixed in with the Harira (soup).
Harira – Traditional Ramadan soup, a semi-spicy tomato based soup with small bits of meat, pasta, chick peas, lentils added for some good protein. Usually 2-3 bowls are eaten by people while breaking fast.
Smeeta – This is a dry almond blend, similar to what is in Shabekiya (other than flour and butter). Also eaten at the various celebrations in Morocco and during tea times.
Fat Bread – Yes, it is what is sounds like… I am not sure exactly how it is made, but basically bread that is stuffed with a mix of fat, vegetables, and spices. Reminds me of what a calzone would be like minus the sauce and the meat. Even though it sounds odd, it is fantastic.
Desert – This is the American’s addition to breaking fast. I typically eat with my site-mate, and she makes a mean desert. So sometimes she/we will cook things like apple turnovers, or a pineapple upside down cake, and bring them along. The host family enjoys them, and it is a good way to show them typical American dishes.
So overall, it may seem like a lot of little things, but you basically stuff your face and stomach. After your stomach has contracted all day and you are dehydrated, you stuff yourself until you are uncomfortable. You have a lack of calories and nutrients, and all of the sudden your body is forced to digest. It basically results in a food coma that leaves you feeling out of it for a while, and uncomfortable. I will add that typically, Moroccans also eat a dinner around 1-2am (typical Tajine type dish), before going off to sleep. I pass on that, and just break fast, and then later eat some fruit before I go off to bed. Recently grapes and figs have been the fruits of choice.
I think that basically covers the food potion of Ramadan. In my last part of this Ramadan series, I am going to discuss my thoughts about Ramadan, and the sorts of things that I see and hear around my village.
Much Love,
Me!
Monday, August 31, 2009
Fasting, and Breaking Fast (Part 1)
I hope that this post finds you doing very well, and enjoying the lovely end of summer, wherever you may be. I miss you all, and hope that I will hear from you soon. Life here for me is going well, with work, with my house, AND my new kitten! She is 10 weeks old, and is gray with black tiger stripes, and white patches here and there. I will post pictures at some point, probably when I can get internet at my house (soon I hope). But onto the subject!
Right now it is the holy month of Ramadan. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Ramadan, it is the 9th month of the Islamic calendar (Islamic calendar is based upon Lunar cycles). In the religion of Islam, this month is considered the holiest, and from sunrise to sunset, all believers fast on everything. Foods, water/drinks, and sex, are all things that believers fast from.
The reason for fasting is that it is a way to purify oneself from any sin committed during the previous 11 months. It is also a way for a person to feel and know what it is like to be a needy person, who does not have access to food and water, and is suffering. There are certain exceptions to fasting, such as children, sick/diabetic, and pregnant or new mothers. However, technically, any day not fasted needs to be made up a time later if that is possible (like pregnant women and not permanently sick).
Life in Morocco (and any Islamic country) changes during the holy month. Let me take you through a typical day for me during Ramadan. In my next post, I will discuss the different foods that I eat on a typical day breaking fast.
I usually wake up 4am each day, and drink a glass of water. The reason for this is that fast begins at sunrise, which for me is 4:25am. So I need to have any food or water for the day at this time. Then I go back to sleep for a few more hours.
Around 8 or 9am, I wake up for the day. Since I am not eating or drinking, I brush my teeth, making sure not to swallow any water and break my fast. I then spend my morning reading, writing, or just relaxing. Around town, everyone is still asleep, and all the cafes and stores are closed.
I continue to relax, get some work done, watch a show or play cards on my computer until about 2pm. This is the time when stores start to open, and I can go to the cyber-café to check-email. Most stores are still closed, and most people stay indoors. Remember folks, it is August, and it is pretty hot and dry here. Being outside and walking through town during the day drains you and you become thirsty, and not having any calories leaves you in a haze as the day goes on. So relaxing is key.
After I spent some time at the cyber (2-3 times a week), I walk home, and see more and more stores that are opening. Venders are selling fruits and juices and cookies and dates on the street, and the town is starting to get lively. I stop and talk to a few people, and buy some eggs to boil for later. I go home and relax for a bit, before hard-boiling eggs.
At about 6:15pm, I walk with my site-mate to a host family in the village, and we are going to break fast here after the evening call to prayer. Around 7pm, the call to prayer goes off (sunset), and we can break fast. I will discuss foods in depth later. During this time, we watch television from Mecca, and watch the thousands of people praying after making the pilgrimage to Mecca. It is fascinating to watch all of the people, and luckily there are subtitles of the prayers in English, so I can read what is being said. I sit and break fast with a host family, and they are so great company and so nice. We talk, and at about 8:15, my site mate and I leave to go back home, saying hello to friends and other townsfolk along the way.
After getting home, I am completely full of food. I feel like I am in a food coma, after not eating all day and then gorging myself. Sometimes I watch a show with my site-mate, other times I just relax and continue to rehydrate. Rehydrating is difficult, because you are also full of food. I spend the rest of my evening relaxing, and eating some fruits and rehydrating. At about midnight, I go to sleep for 4 hours, where I then wake up and do it all again. This routine can switch a little bit, depending on if friends are in town or I have to meet a friend for tea or coffee.
In my next post, I will discuss the culture of food associated with Ramadan, and how people typically break their fast. In the third post, I will discuss my thoughts on Ramadan as a whole, and the culture of people during Ramadan. So keep reading, and let me know if you have any questions.
Book of the Moment: “1491” Charles Mann
Album of the Moment: Simian Mobile Disco - “Temporary Pleasures”
Much Love,
Me!
Right now it is the holy month of Ramadan. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Ramadan, it is the 9th month of the Islamic calendar (Islamic calendar is based upon Lunar cycles). In the religion of Islam, this month is considered the holiest, and from sunrise to sunset, all believers fast on everything. Foods, water/drinks, and sex, are all things that believers fast from.
The reason for fasting is that it is a way to purify oneself from any sin committed during the previous 11 months. It is also a way for a person to feel and know what it is like to be a needy person, who does not have access to food and water, and is suffering. There are certain exceptions to fasting, such as children, sick/diabetic, and pregnant or new mothers. However, technically, any day not fasted needs to be made up a time later if that is possible (like pregnant women and not permanently sick).
Life in Morocco (and any Islamic country) changes during the holy month. Let me take you through a typical day for me during Ramadan. In my next post, I will discuss the different foods that I eat on a typical day breaking fast.
I usually wake up 4am each day, and drink a glass of water. The reason for this is that fast begins at sunrise, which for me is 4:25am. So I need to have any food or water for the day at this time. Then I go back to sleep for a few more hours.
Around 8 or 9am, I wake up for the day. Since I am not eating or drinking, I brush my teeth, making sure not to swallow any water and break my fast. I then spend my morning reading, writing, or just relaxing. Around town, everyone is still asleep, and all the cafes and stores are closed.
I continue to relax, get some work done, watch a show or play cards on my computer until about 2pm. This is the time when stores start to open, and I can go to the cyber-café to check-email. Most stores are still closed, and most people stay indoors. Remember folks, it is August, and it is pretty hot and dry here. Being outside and walking through town during the day drains you and you become thirsty, and not having any calories leaves you in a haze as the day goes on. So relaxing is key.
After I spent some time at the cyber (2-3 times a week), I walk home, and see more and more stores that are opening. Venders are selling fruits and juices and cookies and dates on the street, and the town is starting to get lively. I stop and talk to a few people, and buy some eggs to boil for later. I go home and relax for a bit, before hard-boiling eggs.
At about 6:15pm, I walk with my site-mate to a host family in the village, and we are going to break fast here after the evening call to prayer. Around 7pm, the call to prayer goes off (sunset), and we can break fast. I will discuss foods in depth later. During this time, we watch television from Mecca, and watch the thousands of people praying after making the pilgrimage to Mecca. It is fascinating to watch all of the people, and luckily there are subtitles of the prayers in English, so I can read what is being said. I sit and break fast with a host family, and they are so great company and so nice. We talk, and at about 8:15, my site mate and I leave to go back home, saying hello to friends and other townsfolk along the way.
After getting home, I am completely full of food. I feel like I am in a food coma, after not eating all day and then gorging myself. Sometimes I watch a show with my site-mate, other times I just relax and continue to rehydrate. Rehydrating is difficult, because you are also full of food. I spend the rest of my evening relaxing, and eating some fruits and rehydrating. At about midnight, I go to sleep for 4 hours, where I then wake up and do it all again. This routine can switch a little bit, depending on if friends are in town or I have to meet a friend for tea or coffee.
In my next post, I will discuss the culture of food associated with Ramadan, and how people typically break their fast. In the third post, I will discuss my thoughts on Ramadan as a whole, and the culture of people during Ramadan. So keep reading, and let me know if you have any questions.
Book of the Moment: “1491” Charles Mann
Album of the Moment: Simian Mobile Disco - “Temporary Pleasures”
Much Love,
Me!
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Finally Back Home! After one whole month!
So I spent the last month out of my site, and finally, I am home again. To recap, I spent the first two weeks at a training in order to learn more about our Environmental Sector’s framework, and some guidance on ways we can get assistance and grants. I also spent the two weeks catching up with faces that I had not seen since we swore in at the end of April. Most importantly, the training allowed me to get some clarity on the projects that I intend to be focusing on during my time here in Morocco.
After training was over, I spend the better part of two weeks teaching at a summer camp for kids between the ages of 6-14. There were 6 of us PCVs that were involved in the summer camp, and we taught environmental education, geography, and English. I was teaching English, along with another PCV. Teaching went well, even though it is difficult to teach to a vast age difference (they did not group by age), and then teaching English to some kids who had not been to primary school yet, or had just spent a year at primary school.
In English, we taught all sorts of things like greetings, body parts, the alphabet, and seasons, along with other random environmental terms (like tree, air, sun etc.) It was Basic English, and it was kind of crazy to be teaching English in Tamazight and Darija, but also using my French as guidance.
Our job as PCVs was to teach. In addition, we helped out with activities, and bonded with the kids. The kids were so great, and made everything worth it. It was a good chance to use our languages we had learned both in teaching, and just interacting with the kids. I had initially expected all the kids to know my language, Tamazight, but this was not the case. So I learned some good Darija words and phrases over the time, and this was also a good way to bond with the kids.
Overall, the camp was a success. The most important thing was that the kids had a good time. In addition to the classes that they were doing for 2 hours each day, the kids were doing arts and crafts, various environmental activities, and various group activities and games.
While there were some hitches and miscommunications between the way the PCVs thought things should be and the way the directors of the camp had wanted it to be, this was kept mainly in the background, so that the kids could not see it.
The camp was a good learning experience as well for me. I was able to see the planning stages of the camp, and see how this actually played out. All of the PCVs learned ways that we could improve the camp for next year, and have a better oversight of the camp, so that the things discussed in planning could actually be implemented in the camp. In addition, I am probably going to be trying to start a small day camp next year myself, and so this information is even more valuable.
Camp and training were both really draining, and so after camp was over I took advantage of a 4 day weekend (due to Moroccan Holidays) and took off with a group of friends to the city of Chefchouen, in the northern part of the country, and in the Rif Mountains. The goal was to have a relaxing trip, just hanging out in the city. That is exactly what happened.
I will attempt to describe Chefchouen Medina (old city). Picture a maze of small narrow streets (more like alleys) with all sorts of shops lining each side. Artisanal shops, general stores, clothing stores, restaurants, and fruit stands. Now picture all the buildings and doors painted a fantastic glacial blue color, with hints of purple. This is Chefchouen, at least the old part of the city. It is a gorgeous place, and sits on the side of the mountain. Luckily, the place we stayed had a rooftop terrace, and you could go and look up at the mountains, or look over the city of blue.
In terms of people, it is quite a touristy city, and sadly I got hassled more than I have been hassled (even in Fes!!!) in Morocco. But it is high tourist season, and there were so many tourists, from all over the world. The people watching was incredible, and a lot of the time we sat at cafes in the main square playing cards (a sweet game called judgment) and just having coffee or soda, and watched the people. Chefchouen has a reputation as a hippie town (due to its location in the Rif Mountains, and what is associated with the Rif), so we saw multiples of dreadlocks, and hippies. In addition though, we saw everyday people, and even families that came to Chefchouen. It is a great place for all. I really urge you to look up pictures of Chefchouen, so that you can see the stunning blue that I am talking about.
Other than relaxing at cafes, and eating good food (goat cheese in particular), I did some shopping, and Chefchouen is known for wool goods like hats, socks, and hooded wool sweaters. I bought some wool socks and a scarf for the winter, at a good price. The artisanal goods were very beautiful as well.
At the end of our time in Chefchouen, the holy month of Ramadan began. So on Sunday, I fasted while I was returning to my site. I am now back in my village, and will be discussing Ramadan hopefully in depth soon. I am glad to be experiencing the Holy Month of Ramadan in an Islamic country, and it has given me insights into the culture of the people and the religion of the people. I shall be posting regularly now again!
Book of the Time: John Steinbeck –“The Winter of our Discontent”
Album of the Time: Calvin Harris – “Ready for the Weekend” (New album from Calvin Harris, and definitely worth a listen if you are into dance type music)
Much Love!
Eric
After training was over, I spend the better part of two weeks teaching at a summer camp for kids between the ages of 6-14. There were 6 of us PCVs that were involved in the summer camp, and we taught environmental education, geography, and English. I was teaching English, along with another PCV. Teaching went well, even though it is difficult to teach to a vast age difference (they did not group by age), and then teaching English to some kids who had not been to primary school yet, or had just spent a year at primary school.
In English, we taught all sorts of things like greetings, body parts, the alphabet, and seasons, along with other random environmental terms (like tree, air, sun etc.) It was Basic English, and it was kind of crazy to be teaching English in Tamazight and Darija, but also using my French as guidance.
Our job as PCVs was to teach. In addition, we helped out with activities, and bonded with the kids. The kids were so great, and made everything worth it. It was a good chance to use our languages we had learned both in teaching, and just interacting with the kids. I had initially expected all the kids to know my language, Tamazight, but this was not the case. So I learned some good Darija words and phrases over the time, and this was also a good way to bond with the kids.
Overall, the camp was a success. The most important thing was that the kids had a good time. In addition to the classes that they were doing for 2 hours each day, the kids were doing arts and crafts, various environmental activities, and various group activities and games.
While there were some hitches and miscommunications between the way the PCVs thought things should be and the way the directors of the camp had wanted it to be, this was kept mainly in the background, so that the kids could not see it.
The camp was a good learning experience as well for me. I was able to see the planning stages of the camp, and see how this actually played out. All of the PCVs learned ways that we could improve the camp for next year, and have a better oversight of the camp, so that the things discussed in planning could actually be implemented in the camp. In addition, I am probably going to be trying to start a small day camp next year myself, and so this information is even more valuable.
Camp and training were both really draining, and so after camp was over I took advantage of a 4 day weekend (due to Moroccan Holidays) and took off with a group of friends to the city of Chefchouen, in the northern part of the country, and in the Rif Mountains. The goal was to have a relaxing trip, just hanging out in the city. That is exactly what happened.
I will attempt to describe Chefchouen Medina (old city). Picture a maze of small narrow streets (more like alleys) with all sorts of shops lining each side. Artisanal shops, general stores, clothing stores, restaurants, and fruit stands. Now picture all the buildings and doors painted a fantastic glacial blue color, with hints of purple. This is Chefchouen, at least the old part of the city. It is a gorgeous place, and sits on the side of the mountain. Luckily, the place we stayed had a rooftop terrace, and you could go and look up at the mountains, or look over the city of blue.
In terms of people, it is quite a touristy city, and sadly I got hassled more than I have been hassled (even in Fes!!!) in Morocco. But it is high tourist season, and there were so many tourists, from all over the world. The people watching was incredible, and a lot of the time we sat at cafes in the main square playing cards (a sweet game called judgment) and just having coffee or soda, and watched the people. Chefchouen has a reputation as a hippie town (due to its location in the Rif Mountains, and what is associated with the Rif), so we saw multiples of dreadlocks, and hippies. In addition though, we saw everyday people, and even families that came to Chefchouen. It is a great place for all. I really urge you to look up pictures of Chefchouen, so that you can see the stunning blue that I am talking about.
Other than relaxing at cafes, and eating good food (goat cheese in particular), I did some shopping, and Chefchouen is known for wool goods like hats, socks, and hooded wool sweaters. I bought some wool socks and a scarf for the winter, at a good price. The artisanal goods were very beautiful as well.
At the end of our time in Chefchouen, the holy month of Ramadan began. So on Sunday, I fasted while I was returning to my site. I am now back in my village, and will be discussing Ramadan hopefully in depth soon. I am glad to be experiencing the Holy Month of Ramadan in an Islamic country, and it has given me insights into the culture of the people and the religion of the people. I shall be posting regularly now again!
Book of the Time: John Steinbeck –“The Winter of our Discontent”
Album of the Time: Calvin Harris – “Ready for the Weekend” (New album from Calvin Harris, and definitely worth a listen if you are into dance type music)
Much Love!
Eric
Sunday, July 19, 2009
A Bit of Culture… eh?
I have told you many personal stories, that is fine and dandy. I have so many more, but I wanted to write about some culture type stuff as well, and I feel I have neglected you by not discussing this aspect.
Specifically, I wanted to talk about celebrations and ceremonies that take place for a family. I will try to be as organized as possible about this, and keep it simple. In Morocco, there are really generally four (maybe five) occasions that are celebrated. I will first discuss each individual occasion, and then I will discuss how and what occurs during the celebration. Luckily, the “what occurs during” is generally the same for all the occasions. So this allows me to break-out into really specific details.
Using the timeline of an individual life, I can break the events down pretty easy, so lets kick it:
Birth: This event is supposed to (according to tradition) take place 7 days after the birth of a child. The time varies, especially when a child is born early, and family has to travel from far around to the celebration. (I have also seen three weeks as well). This is a one or two day event.
Circumcision: For boys, obviously (maybe not so obvious, but I do know that Morocco is a country that does not have an issue with female circumcision, which is completely inhumane.) This event occurs at varying times, I am still not sure, generally around 4 years old. As I said, it varies depending on the family, and probably the money to have the celebration. This is a one day event.
Engagement/Marriage: I broke this off into a separate category (hence the four or five). I do not think that every family has separate engagement and marriage celebrations, but it does occur, especially when family is spread apart, and marriage does not take place during the typical marriage season (my host family for instance has done this recently.) Marriage Season usually is in the summer, between late May and August. This is a multi-day event.
Funeral: This is the final stage in life, and there is a mourning/celebration for the family. While much more somber than those above, it is still a gathering of relatives and family. A few points comparing between the states: A body is typically buried the day of or day after the death. While this is cultural, I think this stems from decomposition and health issues arising with dead/decaying bodies. Generally in rural areas, the family can be there within a day, so they can take part as well (*unlike in the states, where arrangements have to be made and it can be a week sometimes.)
So those are the four/five occasions that are celebrated within families. Now I will discuss the general setup of the celebrations, and what takes place. There are a few variables to keep in mind as I delve into this:
1.Conservative vs. Liberal – Conservative families separate the men and the women for celebrations, liberal families may have some or all of it together.
2.Close Family vs. Friends - Depending on the people are close family, they may keep it all together. If many friends and towns-people are attending, they may separate the sexes.
Guests at a celebration bring gifts. The most typical gift is a cone of sugar, or a bag of sugar. Money is also a typical and accepted gift. For a baby, some baby clothes can be typical as well.
When you arrive at the party, you (like anytime going into a house) greet the family, and tell them congrats for the event (maybe not the funeral…). You give them your gift, and then they show you into your respective room. I will discuss each of those rooms now.
If you are showed into the men’s room, you usually are in a nice communal room, and you sit down, and just talk with those around you. As more and more people show up, there is more and more talking. When the family deems the room is full, they start with the drinks/food.
I will step back for a minute to make some very important observations. In a communal room of men, depending on the size of the village, you may know all of the men, or just some of the men. There are religious Imams that attend (to lead the prayers), and there are important townspeople as well. With the men (As it is many times) this is very political. This is an opportunity to discuss important town events, gossip, and to “be seen.” So as people are coming into the room, they are invited or just sit by their friends, or they invite important people to sit by them. It truly is very political.
So now that everyone is in the room, the family designates one or two people (depending on the size of the party) to be tea pourers/makers for the men. These are ALWAYS respected and/or important people in the community. Usually there is a refusal at first, and other people are suggested. People try to be humble about it, but it is an honor to be asked to make and pour tea. Then before tea is poured for everyone, the Imams lead the group in a blessing.
After this, there are two rounds of tea. Same person pours, and blessings are said again. Then, it is time to eat. Tables are brought in, and then there are usually two or three courses, followed by a fruit dessert.
The first dish usually consists of mostly meat, usually the sheep that was slaughtered for the event. After this dish (sometimes two meat dishes) couscous is served as the final dish. There are variations of all of the dishes (how meat is prepared, how couscous it served.) but this is the general layout. There is a dessert of melon, which is in season during the summer months. Oh yeah, and this is another HUGE point. The men ALWAYS eat first before the women. The women are not allowed to eat before the men. Another point, the family does all of the serving the guests. Depending on how big the celebration is, the extended family does as well (and men serve the men, and both men and women serve the women). If it is close family, usually just the women serve and clean. After this is finished, there is another round of prayers/blessings for the event, and then tea is served. After the final tea, men are free to go.
If you are ushered into the woman’s room, you usually enter to loud music and dancing. Women dress up in their nicest djellabas (men do not usually.) There is a drum music, and sometimes pipe music as well. The women who wish to dance (At first, all of them) dance in a circle, and they chant various verses that are made up by the leader (maybe a hired musician, or family members). Women also let their hair down and twirl it around, and belly-dance as well. As I said, men are not typically aloud, as this is very risqué for the culture. This dancing goes on for hours sometimes (the men are eating). After the men finish eating, the women may or may not have tea, and then they are aloud to eat. They eat the same types of foods as the men. After eating, the women sometimes can go, or sometimes they get back together and dance some more. Sometimes, it is all of the family and super close friends dancing and celebrating, and non-family men have left. This can go on for hours (sometimes all night.) Then at some point, people get tired, or just stop.
This is the general way that everything is celebrated here. The only variation is the marriage celebration, where there is a procession of the bride and groom, and there are all sorts of gifts that are given and celebrated by the family. Typically, dates (the fruits) and various candies and foods are given for the husband/wife. Also, they drink from a glass of milk (and each serves the other by putting the glass to the lips of the other.) There is no kissing (that would be shameful), nor hand holding. The Bride and the Groom wear white outfits. Also, the tradition of the “morning after” blood on the sheet still occurs sometimes. Sometimes, it is just chicken blood. Henna is also used in most occasions, for the women. I have known of celebrations for marriage that have occurred for five days, where the first nights are for family, and the last two nights being first for men from outside the family, then the final night for mostly women (some men too), and the final night also having the large processional parade (of walking, then driving cars and honking horns).
I believe this covers the general types of celebrations and what occurs at the celebrations. I have been to all so far but a funeral, and it is really interesting to observe so many social and political aspects of the men’s side, and then the fun of the women’s side. Sometimes, the drum beats and chants gets too repetitive (it can last like 5 hours), but it is still great to see and interact with the family. I also must point this out. As a foreigner, myself and other volunteers get treated more like family then just friends. We usually are free to be with the men (unless you are a woman) and also with the family dancing (we are not viewed as preying upon the women). If there are many volunteers present (only occurs in training settings) we can eat together (men and women volunteers) at our own table. We sort of get special treatment in these situations, party because usually a volunteer is in the family. Sometimes we also help serve the men and the women, and help with the set-up. This is appreciated by the family (usually a host family).
I hope this gives you an insight on the celebrations of the culture, and you can use it to compare with the way we celebrate various occasions in certain religions or cultural settings. If you have questions or need more clarification, email me or comment on the post. Hope that you are all doing well, and talk to you soon!
Book of the Moment: Jared Diamond – “Collapse”
Album of the Moment: Eddie Vedder – “Into the Wild” Sountrack
Much Love!
Eric
Specifically, I wanted to talk about celebrations and ceremonies that take place for a family. I will try to be as organized as possible about this, and keep it simple. In Morocco, there are really generally four (maybe five) occasions that are celebrated. I will first discuss each individual occasion, and then I will discuss how and what occurs during the celebration. Luckily, the “what occurs during” is generally the same for all the occasions. So this allows me to break-out into really specific details.
Using the timeline of an individual life, I can break the events down pretty easy, so lets kick it:
Birth: This event is supposed to (according to tradition) take place 7 days after the birth of a child. The time varies, especially when a child is born early, and family has to travel from far around to the celebration. (I have also seen three weeks as well). This is a one or two day event.
Circumcision: For boys, obviously (maybe not so obvious, but I do know that Morocco is a country that does not have an issue with female circumcision, which is completely inhumane.) This event occurs at varying times, I am still not sure, generally around 4 years old. As I said, it varies depending on the family, and probably the money to have the celebration. This is a one day event.
Engagement/Marriage: I broke this off into a separate category (hence the four or five). I do not think that every family has separate engagement and marriage celebrations, but it does occur, especially when family is spread apart, and marriage does not take place during the typical marriage season (my host family for instance has done this recently.) Marriage Season usually is in the summer, between late May and August. This is a multi-day event.
Funeral: This is the final stage in life, and there is a mourning/celebration for the family. While much more somber than those above, it is still a gathering of relatives and family. A few points comparing between the states: A body is typically buried the day of or day after the death. While this is cultural, I think this stems from decomposition and health issues arising with dead/decaying bodies. Generally in rural areas, the family can be there within a day, so they can take part as well (*unlike in the states, where arrangements have to be made and it can be a week sometimes.)
So those are the four/five occasions that are celebrated within families. Now I will discuss the general setup of the celebrations, and what takes place. There are a few variables to keep in mind as I delve into this:
1.Conservative vs. Liberal – Conservative families separate the men and the women for celebrations, liberal families may have some or all of it together.
2.Close Family vs. Friends - Depending on the people are close family, they may keep it all together. If many friends and towns-people are attending, they may separate the sexes.
Guests at a celebration bring gifts. The most typical gift is a cone of sugar, or a bag of sugar. Money is also a typical and accepted gift. For a baby, some baby clothes can be typical as well.
When you arrive at the party, you (like anytime going into a house) greet the family, and tell them congrats for the event (maybe not the funeral…). You give them your gift, and then they show you into your respective room. I will discuss each of those rooms now.
If you are showed into the men’s room, you usually are in a nice communal room, and you sit down, and just talk with those around you. As more and more people show up, there is more and more talking. When the family deems the room is full, they start with the drinks/food.
I will step back for a minute to make some very important observations. In a communal room of men, depending on the size of the village, you may know all of the men, or just some of the men. There are religious Imams that attend (to lead the prayers), and there are important townspeople as well. With the men (As it is many times) this is very political. This is an opportunity to discuss important town events, gossip, and to “be seen.” So as people are coming into the room, they are invited or just sit by their friends, or they invite important people to sit by them. It truly is very political.
So now that everyone is in the room, the family designates one or two people (depending on the size of the party) to be tea pourers/makers for the men. These are ALWAYS respected and/or important people in the community. Usually there is a refusal at first, and other people are suggested. People try to be humble about it, but it is an honor to be asked to make and pour tea. Then before tea is poured for everyone, the Imams lead the group in a blessing.
After this, there are two rounds of tea. Same person pours, and blessings are said again. Then, it is time to eat. Tables are brought in, and then there are usually two or three courses, followed by a fruit dessert.
The first dish usually consists of mostly meat, usually the sheep that was slaughtered for the event. After this dish (sometimes two meat dishes) couscous is served as the final dish. There are variations of all of the dishes (how meat is prepared, how couscous it served.) but this is the general layout. There is a dessert of melon, which is in season during the summer months. Oh yeah, and this is another HUGE point. The men ALWAYS eat first before the women. The women are not allowed to eat before the men. Another point, the family does all of the serving the guests. Depending on how big the celebration is, the extended family does as well (and men serve the men, and both men and women serve the women). If it is close family, usually just the women serve and clean. After this is finished, there is another round of prayers/blessings for the event, and then tea is served. After the final tea, men are free to go.
If you are ushered into the woman’s room, you usually enter to loud music and dancing. Women dress up in their nicest djellabas (men do not usually.) There is a drum music, and sometimes pipe music as well. The women who wish to dance (At first, all of them) dance in a circle, and they chant various verses that are made up by the leader (maybe a hired musician, or family members). Women also let their hair down and twirl it around, and belly-dance as well. As I said, men are not typically aloud, as this is very risqué for the culture. This dancing goes on for hours sometimes (the men are eating). After the men finish eating, the women may or may not have tea, and then they are aloud to eat. They eat the same types of foods as the men. After eating, the women sometimes can go, or sometimes they get back together and dance some more. Sometimes, it is all of the family and super close friends dancing and celebrating, and non-family men have left. This can go on for hours (sometimes all night.) Then at some point, people get tired, or just stop.
This is the general way that everything is celebrated here. The only variation is the marriage celebration, where there is a procession of the bride and groom, and there are all sorts of gifts that are given and celebrated by the family. Typically, dates (the fruits) and various candies and foods are given for the husband/wife. Also, they drink from a glass of milk (and each serves the other by putting the glass to the lips of the other.) There is no kissing (that would be shameful), nor hand holding. The Bride and the Groom wear white outfits. Also, the tradition of the “morning after” blood on the sheet still occurs sometimes. Sometimes, it is just chicken blood. Henna is also used in most occasions, for the women. I have known of celebrations for marriage that have occurred for five days, where the first nights are for family, and the last two nights being first for men from outside the family, then the final night for mostly women (some men too), and the final night also having the large processional parade (of walking, then driving cars and honking horns).
I believe this covers the general types of celebrations and what occurs at the celebrations. I have been to all so far but a funeral, and it is really interesting to observe so many social and political aspects of the men’s side, and then the fun of the women’s side. Sometimes, the drum beats and chants gets too repetitive (it can last like 5 hours), but it is still great to see and interact with the family. I also must point this out. As a foreigner, myself and other volunteers get treated more like family then just friends. We usually are free to be with the men (unless you are a woman) and also with the family dancing (we are not viewed as preying upon the women). If there are many volunteers present (only occurs in training settings) we can eat together (men and women volunteers) at our own table. We sort of get special treatment in these situations, party because usually a volunteer is in the family. Sometimes we also help serve the men and the women, and help with the set-up. This is appreciated by the family (usually a host family).
I hope this gives you an insight on the celebrations of the culture, and you can use it to compare with the way we celebrate various occasions in certain religions or cultural settings. If you have questions or need more clarification, email me or comment on the post. Hope that you are all doing well, and talk to you soon!
Book of the Moment: Jared Diamond – “Collapse”
Album of the Moment: Eddie Vedder – “Into the Wild” Sountrack
Much Love!
Eric
Sunday, July 12, 2009
The Good Things about Life
I promise that there are good things that happen here. I most certainly do not wish my blog to be a receptacle of sad and frustrating stories. So I am going to tell you now about a good day, a series of events that make me happy that I am here in Morocco, and talk about the good side of the people that I live near. This story is from a week ago, and I will try to recall the events with the same reflective nature that I initially felt.
I woke up feeling happy and refreshed. I was somewhat sad to be leaving my fellow friends. I had just spent a weekend visiting some other PCVs on the other side of the park that I live near. We had been celebrating a number of things. First, there were the birthdays, one actual birthday, and a half-birthday. I mean, Yes, it needed to be celebrated. Also we were celebrating the birthday of our country, and celebrating the Fourth of July. I firmly believe that holidays are best celebrated outside of the country for which they are held. You have a firm belief in them, and you certainly cherish the celebration and the comradery. I mean, we technically are all employed by the government, so this is a reason we are able to come here.
The celebration consisted of making pizza, and garlic sticks. I was pleased that my year of employment at Papa Johns gave me incredible pizza making skills. After we ate lemon bars, apple pie, and carrot cake to top it all off. There were about 11 of us there, and we just hung out and chatted. But I am digressing from the day I wish to discuss.
SO, as I said, I woke up happy, but wishing that I could stay in my bed. But I had a long trip ahead of me, and I needed to go out to the road early in order to take transit that could leave at anytime. I headed out, and went to the road to wait. I sat there for a while, and some other folks were waiting there for the transit as well.
Two hours pass, and about this time, it is beginning to get hot, and I am trying to stay in the shade. I start talking to a guy, and we go through the typical conversation, where are you from, what do you do here, where do you live, where are you going, and the always present question… are you married??? It was a good conversation, and as I said, very typical. It was nice to chat with someone, but at this point I have to use the bathroom (I think I have a parasite by the way), so I do that business. I come back out to the road and the man is gone, and there are more people waiting for the same transit that I am.
Two more hours pass, and it is noon (you probably are wondering why this is a happy story). I am getting impatient, and my decision on route of getting home is being questioned over and over in my mind. But it was too late, I had committed, so I was in it for better or worse. I then talk to the same guy again, and he tells me to come and have some tea with him and another man. He introduces me to the man, who is waiting as well for this transit.
During this time, a car (looks like a taxi) pulls up, and people ask the guy where he is going, and he says no where (I think… maybe he said, not for a while). But as I sitting there having tea, the car owner gets red paint, and paints a taxi ID on the back of his car (all taxis have to have them or they are illegal). But I found this humorous, but knew this guy was going somewhere soon. The guy I am sitting with calls the driver over, and basically reserves me and the other guy at our table a place in the taxi. This is a good thing, as about this time there were 15 people trying to get 6 spots. So I lucked out, probably because I was a foreigner, and spoke the language (it happens sometimes here, it is what we refer to as “rock star status”).
So luckily (or not) I get a spot in the taxi. The trip is a few hours, and I now know I can make it back to my site and my own home. I originally wanted to be back by noon, in order to make it to my weekly souq and buy the vegetables and fruits that I would need.
I enjoy the ride in the taxi immensely. I am driving through incredible mountain scenery. I know a fair bit about geology and forms, and the mountains have all sorts of textbook examples of thrust faults, layers, and folding. It is barren, so it just sticks out everywhere. Very few trees exist (maybe 1-2 per square mile IF that), so I am able to just take in the curvy rugged mountains, and really appreciate the geology that they contain.
In addition to the pretty sites, we drive through flocks of sheep and shepherds just lying on the ground napping. Sheep take care of themselves here, and the shepherds have to watch their flocks, but not so closely. There are not any big predators (they were all killed off over the past 100 years… think cats and lions and jackals and hyenas) so the sheep just graze. The shepherd gets them in at the end of the day. There are flocks of sheep in the road, and we have to stop for a minute because the sheep are refusing to move.
We go through several mountain villages, and people outside working their fields look up to see if they know who is in the taxi. I can only imagine how isolated yet amazing living in a place like this would be. We finally get to our destination, and rather than just go on my own, the friend I made before the taxi ride wants to have a drink (coffee/coke). I am kind of in a hurry, so he shows me/helps me to see if there are any taxis, and there are not. I have to go from this town to the main road and catch a bus. I have no idea how far the main road is (remember this!!) and he suggests that I take a transit to the main road. However, I do not wish to wait the one hour for this transit. So I start off on my own.
I walk up the hill, and in the distance there is thunder and rain. I hope that this rain is not intended for me. I run into a few people, and talk to them, and they ask where I am going. I tell them I am going to the main road to catch a bus. They say to me “It is far!! to the road.” I ask how far, and the man says 5-6km. I think to myself that this is not too far, and so I will walk it. So I begin on my way. As I go, a car passes, and half-heartedly I wave it down, so I could ask the guy a question. We talk for a minute, he seems like a good guy, and tells me he will take me. So I get in, and we are off.
We have a great conversation, and my new friend speaks English as well as Spanish. He actually mistakes me for being Spanish (I get this often, almost daily, probably because of my hair). He tells me he has lived in Spain working, and due to the economic situation, he is unemployed. Like a said, great guy, nice, and we have a great conversation. We talk about family, what I am doing here, and what he does in Spain and back here. He is around my age, a few years older actually, so we relate pretty well (except I am not married with a child!)
As I get into the car first, I take note of the odometer to see how many kilometers it is to the main road. In fact, it is not 5-6km, it is 25km. I would have walked all day and not made it, and I met a really nice guy. He tells me he will drop me off at the main road, he has to take care of some business in Khenifra, the big city nearby. We get to the main road, and the guy wants to have tea, which I definitely say yes to. He apologizes to me for not being able to take me further, and if he did not have business, he would take me. He promises to call me to make sure I have made it home okay. He goes on his way. I am certainly grateful for this man.
One of the conversations we have is about the friendly, open, welcoming nature of Moroccans. Having lived in Spain, this guy knows that people are cold to strangers, and will not be willing to help out. He says that I am welcome and he should give me a lift. He also invites me to tell him if I am around his area, and he will have me for dinner and to meet his family. This is Moroccan hospitality right here, and it is one of the things I hope to bring back with me. I have grown to dislike “business first” mentality, and it actually turns me off. I want to know about people first, about their family, about their interesting lives, before I get down to business. I reciprocate this man’s offer by telling him he is more than welcome to come and visit, and hang out. I do not do it just to be nice, I truly mean it, and actually hope he comes and visits. I can only hope to give him the same welcome and hospitality as he has given me.
So now I wait for a bus to come. I spill my water on me, and chuckle about it. I am sitting at a basic bus/thru stop, with a few cafes and a few stores. A bus finally comes, and the man who gets out asks me where I am going. I tell him, and he tells me there are no seats. I get worried for a minute, as some busses will not let you stand. I tell the guy I do not care, I just need to go. He is happy, and very friendly. My good string of luck continues, and I stand on the bus for a while until the next stop, and then grab a newly opened seat. I complete my journey by catching my final taxi back to my site. I am happy to be home, but extremely happy with the events of the day.
In every place there are good people, and in every place there are a few bad ones. But days like this where I feel welcome as a visitor, and people try to help me and talk to me just make me happy. I am sure part of it has to do with the fact I feel totally accustomed to living here, getting around, and talking to complete strangers. To be honest, there are people of high importance (sheiks, moqqadems, council people) that I see daily, that would easily pass for homeless and poor in the states. If appearance is everything so often in the states, this is almost the exact opposite. I am not saying that it is okay to have poor hygiene, but being here gives one a new perspective on the way people “appear” to be like.
Current Book - "The Red Pony" John Steinbeck
Current Album - Elvis Costello - "10 years" (kind of like greatest hits)
Much Love,
Me!
I woke up feeling happy and refreshed. I was somewhat sad to be leaving my fellow friends. I had just spent a weekend visiting some other PCVs on the other side of the park that I live near. We had been celebrating a number of things. First, there were the birthdays, one actual birthday, and a half-birthday. I mean, Yes, it needed to be celebrated. Also we were celebrating the birthday of our country, and celebrating the Fourth of July. I firmly believe that holidays are best celebrated outside of the country for which they are held. You have a firm belief in them, and you certainly cherish the celebration and the comradery. I mean, we technically are all employed by the government, so this is a reason we are able to come here.
The celebration consisted of making pizza, and garlic sticks. I was pleased that my year of employment at Papa Johns gave me incredible pizza making skills. After we ate lemon bars, apple pie, and carrot cake to top it all off. There were about 11 of us there, and we just hung out and chatted. But I am digressing from the day I wish to discuss.
SO, as I said, I woke up happy, but wishing that I could stay in my bed. But I had a long trip ahead of me, and I needed to go out to the road early in order to take transit that could leave at anytime. I headed out, and went to the road to wait. I sat there for a while, and some other folks were waiting there for the transit as well.
Two hours pass, and about this time, it is beginning to get hot, and I am trying to stay in the shade. I start talking to a guy, and we go through the typical conversation, where are you from, what do you do here, where do you live, where are you going, and the always present question… are you married??? It was a good conversation, and as I said, very typical. It was nice to chat with someone, but at this point I have to use the bathroom (I think I have a parasite by the way), so I do that business. I come back out to the road and the man is gone, and there are more people waiting for the same transit that I am.
Two more hours pass, and it is noon (you probably are wondering why this is a happy story). I am getting impatient, and my decision on route of getting home is being questioned over and over in my mind. But it was too late, I had committed, so I was in it for better or worse. I then talk to the same guy again, and he tells me to come and have some tea with him and another man. He introduces me to the man, who is waiting as well for this transit.
During this time, a car (looks like a taxi) pulls up, and people ask the guy where he is going, and he says no where (I think… maybe he said, not for a while). But as I sitting there having tea, the car owner gets red paint, and paints a taxi ID on the back of his car (all taxis have to have them or they are illegal). But I found this humorous, but knew this guy was going somewhere soon. The guy I am sitting with calls the driver over, and basically reserves me and the other guy at our table a place in the taxi. This is a good thing, as about this time there were 15 people trying to get 6 spots. So I lucked out, probably because I was a foreigner, and spoke the language (it happens sometimes here, it is what we refer to as “rock star status”).
So luckily (or not) I get a spot in the taxi. The trip is a few hours, and I now know I can make it back to my site and my own home. I originally wanted to be back by noon, in order to make it to my weekly souq and buy the vegetables and fruits that I would need.
I enjoy the ride in the taxi immensely. I am driving through incredible mountain scenery. I know a fair bit about geology and forms, and the mountains have all sorts of textbook examples of thrust faults, layers, and folding. It is barren, so it just sticks out everywhere. Very few trees exist (maybe 1-2 per square mile IF that), so I am able to just take in the curvy rugged mountains, and really appreciate the geology that they contain.
In addition to the pretty sites, we drive through flocks of sheep and shepherds just lying on the ground napping. Sheep take care of themselves here, and the shepherds have to watch their flocks, but not so closely. There are not any big predators (they were all killed off over the past 100 years… think cats and lions and jackals and hyenas) so the sheep just graze. The shepherd gets them in at the end of the day. There are flocks of sheep in the road, and we have to stop for a minute because the sheep are refusing to move.
We go through several mountain villages, and people outside working their fields look up to see if they know who is in the taxi. I can only imagine how isolated yet amazing living in a place like this would be. We finally get to our destination, and rather than just go on my own, the friend I made before the taxi ride wants to have a drink (coffee/coke). I am kind of in a hurry, so he shows me/helps me to see if there are any taxis, and there are not. I have to go from this town to the main road and catch a bus. I have no idea how far the main road is (remember this!!) and he suggests that I take a transit to the main road. However, I do not wish to wait the one hour for this transit. So I start off on my own.
I walk up the hill, and in the distance there is thunder and rain. I hope that this rain is not intended for me. I run into a few people, and talk to them, and they ask where I am going. I tell them I am going to the main road to catch a bus. They say to me “It is far!! to the road.” I ask how far, and the man says 5-6km. I think to myself that this is not too far, and so I will walk it. So I begin on my way. As I go, a car passes, and half-heartedly I wave it down, so I could ask the guy a question. We talk for a minute, he seems like a good guy, and tells me he will take me. So I get in, and we are off.
We have a great conversation, and my new friend speaks English as well as Spanish. He actually mistakes me for being Spanish (I get this often, almost daily, probably because of my hair). He tells me he has lived in Spain working, and due to the economic situation, he is unemployed. Like a said, great guy, nice, and we have a great conversation. We talk about family, what I am doing here, and what he does in Spain and back here. He is around my age, a few years older actually, so we relate pretty well (except I am not married with a child!)
As I get into the car first, I take note of the odometer to see how many kilometers it is to the main road. In fact, it is not 5-6km, it is 25km. I would have walked all day and not made it, and I met a really nice guy. He tells me he will drop me off at the main road, he has to take care of some business in Khenifra, the big city nearby. We get to the main road, and the guy wants to have tea, which I definitely say yes to. He apologizes to me for not being able to take me further, and if he did not have business, he would take me. He promises to call me to make sure I have made it home okay. He goes on his way. I am certainly grateful for this man.
One of the conversations we have is about the friendly, open, welcoming nature of Moroccans. Having lived in Spain, this guy knows that people are cold to strangers, and will not be willing to help out. He says that I am welcome and he should give me a lift. He also invites me to tell him if I am around his area, and he will have me for dinner and to meet his family. This is Moroccan hospitality right here, and it is one of the things I hope to bring back with me. I have grown to dislike “business first” mentality, and it actually turns me off. I want to know about people first, about their family, about their interesting lives, before I get down to business. I reciprocate this man’s offer by telling him he is more than welcome to come and visit, and hang out. I do not do it just to be nice, I truly mean it, and actually hope he comes and visits. I can only hope to give him the same welcome and hospitality as he has given me.
So now I wait for a bus to come. I spill my water on me, and chuckle about it. I am sitting at a basic bus/thru stop, with a few cafes and a few stores. A bus finally comes, and the man who gets out asks me where I am going. I tell him, and he tells me there are no seats. I get worried for a minute, as some busses will not let you stand. I tell the guy I do not care, I just need to go. He is happy, and very friendly. My good string of luck continues, and I stand on the bus for a while until the next stop, and then grab a newly opened seat. I complete my journey by catching my final taxi back to my site. I am happy to be home, but extremely happy with the events of the day.
In every place there are good people, and in every place there are a few bad ones. But days like this where I feel welcome as a visitor, and people try to help me and talk to me just make me happy. I am sure part of it has to do with the fact I feel totally accustomed to living here, getting around, and talking to complete strangers. To be honest, there are people of high importance (sheiks, moqqadems, council people) that I see daily, that would easily pass for homeless and poor in the states. If appearance is everything so often in the states, this is almost the exact opposite. I am not saying that it is okay to have poor hygiene, but being here gives one a new perspective on the way people “appear” to be like.
Current Book - "The Red Pony" John Steinbeck
Current Album - Elvis Costello - "10 years" (kind of like greatest hits)
Much Love,
Me!
Monday, July 06, 2009
Oh Kids, and Cats, and Houses
Hello Again Everyone
I hope that everyone back home is doing well. Despite what you read and may think in this post, I am doing quite well. I just had a not great thing happen, and it was not fun at the time, but it was a good learning experience. What is that you ask?? Here is the story, I will try to be as succinct as I can be.
I was standing the other day talking with a local guy that I usually talk with. He owns a chicken shop, and I was talking with him, and there were about 4 other people there with us. I was facing the back of the shop, and there were two people in front of me. There were two people behind me.
So as I am having this conversation, I feel something on my back-pack (on my back) moving. I quickly turn around, and find that the small compartment has been opened. At the same time I turn around, the kid (12-13 years old) turns and runs away. I walk out of the shop to see where he goes, and then I make sure that I have everything… which luckily I did.
I am pretty flustered by now, and I don’t totally know what to do. I want to find this bonehead kid, but know he is long gone. So I leave, and go to see my site-mate, to see if she is around for her advice. She is not home, so I text her and go back towards the chicken-shop. I stop and talk to a few people, trying to be as normal as possible, and then from the corner of my eye I see the kid back in the chicken shop. I sneak up behind him, so he does not see me, and then when he turns around, I start talking to him.
Now a lot happened in a short time. About the time I start talking to him (actually I was being firm and probably yelling) he is kind of cowering in this corner that I backed him into, as if I am going to lay into him and beat him up (which crossed my mind, but I know better.) I am yelling at him “Where are your parents?!?!?” repeatedly. I get this out about three times, and the chicken-shop owner, afraid that I was going to hit him, tries to get in the middle to make sure this does not happen. The kid/boy/thief took the opportunity and ran away again.
I then told the other people there that I was not going to hit him, and talked to them for a little. I left, walked around, talked to my site-mate, who then gave me a bit of advice, and I went back to the shop and had a few questions for people.
I mainly wanted to know where this kid’s parents lived, and also I wanted to ask if any of them saw anything happen. So I go back to the chicken-shop, and ask what they saw. All four of the people tell me they saw nothing happen. I understand the two people in front of me, one talking to me, the other working on getting a chicken ready. The two behind me also claimed they saw nothing. I completely did not believe them however, and so I told a couple of them that “God sees everything” and “may God cover your sins.” The reason I used these phrases is that the chicken-shop owner is very-religious, and has tried on occasion to discuss religion, something I do very rarely, even back home. I could tell by his reaction that he was hiding something, and this was frustrating.
I begin to ask the two people left in the shop where the kid’s parents were at, and told them that I needed to talk to them. I was told by one of them that it was no problem, and they would talk to the parents. I told him that would not work, and I was the one that needed to talk to them, and now. He said okay, and we would go sometime. I said that we needed to go now, and his response was again that he would go and talk to them. I could tell I was getting the run-around at this point. I then said that I either needed to see his parents right now, or else I had to go discuss the matter with the Gendarmes (Police). They both then asked what I was going to tell the parents (because they did not want to be viewed as an accessory), and I knew I was beat. My language, while good enough to this point, is not good enough to pick out the exact words I would need for the situation. I was frustrated, but then decided that I would get my host brother to come and help, since he is also fluent in English. Like I said I was getting the run-around big time.
So I get my host brother, and we get back to the shop, and this time the kid is there. I approach him and start asking him “why?!?” The kid looks like he wants to cry and scared all at the same time. He tells me he was “just playing,” and he is sorry. I explain to him that I will never trust him again and that I will always view him as a thief. He tells me he is not a thief, and apologizes again. I also ask him why he ran both times earlier, and did not apologize at those times. He tell me he was scared, and thought I would hit him. I tell him that I came to Morocco to help people, and told him “why should I help people here if they do things like this to me?” The kid just looked down at the ground and apologized again. I told him it was finished, but I would not trust him again, and we parted. I them talked to the chicken-shop owner via translation about how no-one saw anything happen. So that is the story. In the end I was glad I talked face to face with the kid, because if I had talked to his parents or the Gendarmes he would have been beaten. I did not want that to happen.
The most frustrating parts for me are the following:
1. How everyone said they saw nothing happen.
2. How no-one seemed to want to help me, and instead gave me the run around.
If you look back at my post about the sheep, once again, people tend to just turn away and pretend to be blind to things that occur. They feel that it is better for them to stay out of peoples business than to get involved, even though they should help out other people. There is a sad learned helplessness that seems to be prevalent here, and it is frustrating to deal with, whether it is about safety, or whether it is about the environment.
After all was over, I talked with my host brother, who tried to explain to me that this is the way that people here in Morocco can be. I already knew what he was talking about, due to the sheep situation, and also another similar story from another volunteer. My host brother said that people are like that here, and that it is bad. To me it is so frustrating that people can be like this, whether it is here or in America (yes this can happen in some places in America as well). I learned a fair bit from the experience, more about people here than anything. It was not so much the actual kid opening my back that was the worst part, it was everything in the middle that made it ultra-frustrating and annoying.
I will leave you with some happy stuff. I have now moved into my own house, and this is exciting. I am now looking for another cat, as I was told (not to my surprise) that the cat is now accustomed to the place where it has been. But I have a cat in mind, and so I will have a cat within a few days. I also had a great weekend, saw some other volunteers, and am excited about work prospects. Much love to you all and I hope to hear from you soon. Despite this not so happy story, I am incredibly happy and love the people here. I just understand that like all people, they have their shortcomings once in a while.
Album of Choice – Ratatat - “Classics”
Book currently reading - “Life of Pi” – Yann Martel
Much Love! (Expect pictures soon)
I hope that everyone back home is doing well. Despite what you read and may think in this post, I am doing quite well. I just had a not great thing happen, and it was not fun at the time, but it was a good learning experience. What is that you ask?? Here is the story, I will try to be as succinct as I can be.
I was standing the other day talking with a local guy that I usually talk with. He owns a chicken shop, and I was talking with him, and there were about 4 other people there with us. I was facing the back of the shop, and there were two people in front of me. There were two people behind me.
So as I am having this conversation, I feel something on my back-pack (on my back) moving. I quickly turn around, and find that the small compartment has been opened. At the same time I turn around, the kid (12-13 years old) turns and runs away. I walk out of the shop to see where he goes, and then I make sure that I have everything… which luckily I did.
I am pretty flustered by now, and I don’t totally know what to do. I want to find this bonehead kid, but know he is long gone. So I leave, and go to see my site-mate, to see if she is around for her advice. She is not home, so I text her and go back towards the chicken-shop. I stop and talk to a few people, trying to be as normal as possible, and then from the corner of my eye I see the kid back in the chicken shop. I sneak up behind him, so he does not see me, and then when he turns around, I start talking to him.
Now a lot happened in a short time. About the time I start talking to him (actually I was being firm and probably yelling) he is kind of cowering in this corner that I backed him into, as if I am going to lay into him and beat him up (which crossed my mind, but I know better.) I am yelling at him “Where are your parents?!?!?” repeatedly. I get this out about three times, and the chicken-shop owner, afraid that I was going to hit him, tries to get in the middle to make sure this does not happen. The kid/boy/thief took the opportunity and ran away again.
I then told the other people there that I was not going to hit him, and talked to them for a little. I left, walked around, talked to my site-mate, who then gave me a bit of advice, and I went back to the shop and had a few questions for people.
I mainly wanted to know where this kid’s parents lived, and also I wanted to ask if any of them saw anything happen. So I go back to the chicken-shop, and ask what they saw. All four of the people tell me they saw nothing happen. I understand the two people in front of me, one talking to me, the other working on getting a chicken ready. The two behind me also claimed they saw nothing. I completely did not believe them however, and so I told a couple of them that “God sees everything” and “may God cover your sins.” The reason I used these phrases is that the chicken-shop owner is very-religious, and has tried on occasion to discuss religion, something I do very rarely, even back home. I could tell by his reaction that he was hiding something, and this was frustrating.
I begin to ask the two people left in the shop where the kid’s parents were at, and told them that I needed to talk to them. I was told by one of them that it was no problem, and they would talk to the parents. I told him that would not work, and I was the one that needed to talk to them, and now. He said okay, and we would go sometime. I said that we needed to go now, and his response was again that he would go and talk to them. I could tell I was getting the run-around at this point. I then said that I either needed to see his parents right now, or else I had to go discuss the matter with the Gendarmes (Police). They both then asked what I was going to tell the parents (because they did not want to be viewed as an accessory), and I knew I was beat. My language, while good enough to this point, is not good enough to pick out the exact words I would need for the situation. I was frustrated, but then decided that I would get my host brother to come and help, since he is also fluent in English. Like I said I was getting the run-around big time.
So I get my host brother, and we get back to the shop, and this time the kid is there. I approach him and start asking him “why?!?” The kid looks like he wants to cry and scared all at the same time. He tells me he was “just playing,” and he is sorry. I explain to him that I will never trust him again and that I will always view him as a thief. He tells me he is not a thief, and apologizes again. I also ask him why he ran both times earlier, and did not apologize at those times. He tell me he was scared, and thought I would hit him. I tell him that I came to Morocco to help people, and told him “why should I help people here if they do things like this to me?” The kid just looked down at the ground and apologized again. I told him it was finished, but I would not trust him again, and we parted. I them talked to the chicken-shop owner via translation about how no-one saw anything happen. So that is the story. In the end I was glad I talked face to face with the kid, because if I had talked to his parents or the Gendarmes he would have been beaten. I did not want that to happen.
The most frustrating parts for me are the following:
1. How everyone said they saw nothing happen.
2. How no-one seemed to want to help me, and instead gave me the run around.
If you look back at my post about the sheep, once again, people tend to just turn away and pretend to be blind to things that occur. They feel that it is better for them to stay out of peoples business than to get involved, even though they should help out other people. There is a sad learned helplessness that seems to be prevalent here, and it is frustrating to deal with, whether it is about safety, or whether it is about the environment.
After all was over, I talked with my host brother, who tried to explain to me that this is the way that people here in Morocco can be. I already knew what he was talking about, due to the sheep situation, and also another similar story from another volunteer. My host brother said that people are like that here, and that it is bad. To me it is so frustrating that people can be like this, whether it is here or in America (yes this can happen in some places in America as well). I learned a fair bit from the experience, more about people here than anything. It was not so much the actual kid opening my back that was the worst part, it was everything in the middle that made it ultra-frustrating and annoying.
I will leave you with some happy stuff. I have now moved into my own house, and this is exciting. I am now looking for another cat, as I was told (not to my surprise) that the cat is now accustomed to the place where it has been. But I have a cat in mind, and so I will have a cat within a few days. I also had a great weekend, saw some other volunteers, and am excited about work prospects. Much love to you all and I hope to hear from you soon. Despite this not so happy story, I am incredibly happy and love the people here. I just understand that like all people, they have their shortcomings once in a while.
Album of Choice – Ratatat - “Classics”
Book currently reading - “Life of Pi” – Yann Martel
Much Love! (Expect pictures soon)
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