Little by little the camel goes into the couscous...

25 September 2010

Into the Imperial City

This morning I left Rabat for Fes, the city I will call home for the next ten months. The first stage of my Morocco experience has come to an end. Orientation is over. Now it's time to get to work.

Since arriving here, we've been busy. After our trip to the desert, we started intensive Moroccan Arabic classes at Qalam wa Lawh, an Arabic language center in Rabat. On top of that, we attended about a half dozen lectures about the linguistic and educational situations in Morocco. I also shared a homestay weekend with Monica in Casablanca.

After this intense orientation, I feel equally prepared and unprepared for my job as an English teacher. I know more Arabic and more about Moroccan culture and society than I did prior, but I still don't know the details of my work and we only received pointers as to how we should manage a classroom that could hold anywhere from 50-150 students. Despite some anxiety over my job, I am extremely excited to begin teaching. I am also excited to begin my life in Fes, a city rich in culture, tradition and history.



Fes al-Bali. My new home?

Last weekend I learned that most good things in Morocco come from the former Imperial capital. Fes is home to some of Morocco's best artisans and handicrafts. If you want to buy an excellent pair of babouches, traditional slippers, you go to Fes. If you want to buy the best pottery, you go to Fes. If you want to dine in Morocco's best restaurants, you go to Fes. If you want to experience the world's largest car-free urban zone, you go to Fes. All the city lacks is a coastline. This means no seafood, hot summers, and frigid winters.


Leather is one of Fes' main handicrafts. Tanneries, like this one, are found all over the old city. Their smell is very recognizable (and foul) because of the use of bird poop as a softening agent. Disgusting, but very effective.
Fes is also known as 'the city of 'ilm', or knowledge, particularly religious knowledge. It is home to Al-Qarawiyin University, one of the oldest in the world, and still operating within Morocco's public university system. Al-Qarawiyin, was once a great center of learning not only for Muslims, but people of all faiths. Famous Islamic scholars, like Ibn Khaldun and the Sufi master Ibn Arabi studied there. So did the great Jewish mystic Maimonides. This religious diversity extended beyond the university. Fes al-Bali, or the old city, houses many historically Jewish neighborhoods. After the Spanish Reconquista and subsequent Inquisition cleared the Iberian peninsula of both Muslims and Jews, many of both faiths made Fes their new home. Until this century, the Jewish community of Fes, and Morocco as a whole, thrived within the nation's Muslim society.

A close-up of Al-Qarawiyin's main doorway. Moroccan Islamic architecture features geometric designs carved or painted onto plaster and wood surfaces, as well as geometric tile work, which is not featured here.
The politics of colonization and independence greatly affected Fes' prestige. The city was Morocco's capital until 1912 when the country became a French protectorate. The French chose Rabat to be the new capital, a decision maintained after Independence in 1956. And though King Muhammad VI has taken more interest in Fes than his father or grand-father, it is unlikely the once Imperial city will regain its due status anytime soon.

As I begin my life here I hope to bridge Fes's new and old worlds. I will work at Sidi Mohammed ben Abdellah University, teaching English to university students. The university is located on the edge of town, surrounded by the newest areas of urban growth. During orientation, the speakers we heard described Morocco's universities as very similar to Western universities, except for overcrowding. As I mentioned earlier, I may very soon teach classes of up to 150-200 students. The lack of qualified teachers was a common theme in the lectures we heard about Morocco's education system, which is one reason why we're here. However, most universities are equipped with modern facilities and technological resources.

I will work in new Fes, but hope to live in old Fes. Fes's medina, also called Fes al-Bali, is the world's largest car-free urban zone. It is the pre-colonial Islamic city, and houses several hundred thousands Fessis (people who live in Fes). Living in the medina is a little like going back in time. Its streets are really serpentine alleyways that seldom follow a straight line. Without cars, people use donkeys to transport goods, much like was done centuries ago, except today they carry mini-fridges and flat screen televisions as well as rugs, spices, and anything else a person can't carry him or herself.

I have a lead on an apartment in a riad very near to Al-Qarawiyin University in the medina. A riad is a house with a courtyard, which typically houses a garden. This design is a Moroccan tradition, and while my potential home lacks a garden and is not as fancy as what you'd see if you enter 'riad morocco' into Google Image Search, living there would immerse me in a culture and environment that has changed relatively slightly in hundreds of years. We'll see what happens in this department.

What else is there to look forward to? Well, as you've noticed, I haven't been writing much lately. That will change, hopefully, as such has been the case due to a lack of time, not of ideas or experiences. I have much to say about Morocco's language situation, food culture, shopping culture, and general society. But the bigger thing to watch for is my gradual Moroccanization. As I seek to integrate myself into my work and living environments, I will surely change. I will become less American and more Morrocan. To what degree that will happen and how it will manifest itself remains to be seen...

15 September 2010

When it Rains in the Sahara

There is a saying here: come to Morocco and be surprised. Another way to say this is that nothing happens like it’s expected to. This weekend we went to the Sahara and it rained.


After a long week of orientation, all of the English Teaching Assistants traveled together to Arfoud, a city in southeastern Morocco, very near to the Algerian border and the Sahara desert. The trip began with a big surprise. Our leader, Dr. Jim Miller, the head of the Moroccan Fulbright commission, was supposed to travel with us. However, his office forgot to tell the travel company he was coming, so when the bus arrived there was no run for him, and off we went, on our own, into the Moroccan wilderness. That was the moment I realized that for much of these 10 months I will be on my own and fending for myself. It was a bit of a shock, but a good realization. 


Arfoud, our destination, stands about 600 km southeast of Rabat, our temporary home. Without stops, it's about an 8 hour car ride. We stretched it to 12. Normally, such a long ride in a crowded bus would be torture, but we came together as a group and had a really fun time. Those of you reading this from Rice may be surprised that for some reason people in the Fulbright ETA group think I’m funny. We told stories and sang along to such great 1990s artists as Bryan Adams, Toni Braxton and Celine Dion. Moroccans love their Celine Dion and Dolly Parton. Both drives turned into great bonding experiences.


Our hotel in Arfoud was unreal in many ways. Built on the outskirts of town, it resembled a palace. The interior featured zellij, traditional Moroccan geometric tile work and a marble fountain. As you walk in, you're greeted by the smiling portrait of King Muhammad VI. Remember, Morocco is a monarchy. Along the way we saw many 'billboards' (words written using piles of rocks on a mountainside) stating the unofficial national motto: "God, Nation, King." This is Morocco's holy trinity. Hotels like the one we stayed at are monuments to the vision of the King and his government. Tradition mixed with modernity, all designed to appeal to the sensibilities of Western tourists.


Tourism is Morocco's second largest industry, and I'd like to share some thoughts on the subject. Along the way to the dunes Friday evening, we stopped at a Berber family's tent for tea. This was obviously set up by our tour company and some of our group decided not to participate in the stop because they felt it was too exploitative. It is true that commercializing a lifestyle is a form of exploitation, but I think that it is too simple to look at the situation in such a way. Westerners come to Morocco looking for an 'authentically oriental' experience. This is what we had over the weekend: we rode camels, we saw the dunes, we played drums and sang songs with Berbers. Those experiences are contrived and not 'authentic', per se. But on the flip side, Moroccans also look to Westerners as sources of income in an otherwise poor and economically depressed country. Touristic exploitation is not one sided in this case, it is symbiotic. When we signed up for our desert tour, we sought our 'authentic' experience. We also provided every Moroccan we interacted with an income. This is not to say that exploitation does not occur, nor that tourism is not exploitative, but I think it's important to realize that the Moroccans in this situation are not passive participants. They want tourist dollars and try hard to get them because they don't have many other options.


One form of tourism that is exploitative, as well as damaging to a 'native' culture, is sexual tourism. Morocco and much of the Middle East is a prime destination for sexual tourism. Many Europeans, and some Americans, travel to these countries explicitly to have sex. We saw this firsthand. When we arrived at our Saharan camp Friday night we were greeted by two Swiss women who explained they were there as guests of one of the guides. As the night progressed, it became obvious the were there for a specific reason. As we went to bed, they disappeared. There was some rustling in the bushes and then in the morning, they woke up next to the Berbers. 


This is the definition of exploitation. Westerners who engage in sexual tourism view their hosts purely as sexual objects. This also works both ways. Any Western woman who has been to the Middle East will tell you that harassment is a big problem. Men on the streets frequently cat-call or approach Western women, whispering 'Gazelle' or other things in an attempt to 'woo' them. On the surface this seems a result of a sexually repressed society and a lascivious image of Western women. While these play a role, a huge factor is that such behavior works. These men know that many Western women are in their countries to have sex with the locals, so they try to find them. The result is harassment. The presence of the Swiss women definitely changed the attitudes of our guides. All but one of them tried hard to work their magic on the girls in our group. Hyperbole is valued over subtlety. As we went to bed, one of the guides told Grecia that he would build her a hotel where they could live and run their own Saharan tourism business. Other were offered camels for their hands in marriage.


While that night was uncomfortable, nothing could dampen the effect of being in the Saharan dunes. As we rode into them as the sun set behind us, I felt very similarly to how I feel sometimes in the Rocky Mountains. Nature everywhere possesses a certain majesty, but certain natural phenomena impress that majesty on you in and overwhelming way. You feel submerged in this sense of connection with something much greater than yourself; an immersion into a realm of great power and permanence. I’ve felt this way staring up at a peak from the shore of a high mountain lake. I felt it again riding into the dunes, surrounded by mountains of sand. On our drive we passed through the Middle Atlas mountains. The dunes we saw exceeded these mountains in every description. It was truly an amazing sight and an amazing feeling. It permeated the whole experience.

As a closing note, I would like to mention that last Friday was my birthday. Thank you to everyone awho wished me well on Facebook and e-mail. But especially thank you to my fellow Morocco Fulbright ETAs who made that day one I will never forget. That afternoon they surprised me with pastries and sang me happy birthday. I was completely surprised and flabbergasted. Going forward in this experience, I am comforted knowing that though I will be alone, I have a community of 8 peers who are caring people whom I trust and who I know I can rely on for any type of support. I feel fortunate to be here in any case, but I am especially grateful to be in Morocco with such great people.

06 September 2010

Greetings from the other side

We landed in Casablanca at 7:30AM Morocco time this morning. That was 2:30AM Eastern time. I didn't sleep on the plane, so I'm running on pure adrenaline and hope at this point. So far so good.

Even in my first hours here I've gotten a preview for what this experience will be like. All of the people in my program took the same Royal Air Maroc flight direct from JFK to Casablanca. Because it is the national airline and because Morocco is a multilingual nation, all of the crew instructions to the passengers were made three times once in Arabic, in French and then in English. In the cabin were TV screens that displayed a map of our progress. These too came in three different languages. Interestingly there were several discrepancies between them. As we taxied at JFK, the English map of North America displayed all the usual major U.S. cities: Houston, Chicago, Miami, and New York. When it changed to French, the emphasis shifted northwards to Canada, the map showing Ontario, Montreal and Quebec City. Strangely, the Arabic map featured New York, Miami and Abilene, Texas. I wonder what Moroccans have to do with Abilene. Or, rather, how would an Abilene Texan feel about being left off the English map and featured on the Arabic map?

Multilingualism is a fact of Moroccan life. Before the French arrived in the late 19th century, most Moroccans spoke Arabic or Berber or both. Colonization introduced the French language, and it has persisted since the country's independence in the 1950s. Two summers ago I remember listening to my Moroccan host mother talk to her friend over tea, her sentences a jumble of French, Arabic and Berber.

This will be a busy week, we have orientation and then a trip to the south of Morocco to visit the Sahara. I'm excited to get started!

PS: spell check just highlighted all of the words in the post because it's in English and not French

01 September 2010

American Food Bucket List

Last night my Mom asked me what I would like to eat for the five dinners I have left in America. After getting past the fact that I only have so few meals left before I go, I started to think: what are the foods I will miss the most while in Morocco?

Don't be misled: Moroccan food is excellent. This is the land of couscous, tajine, stews cooked in conical clay pots, and pastilla. There's no doubt I'm going to eat really well over the next 10 months. But as anyone who has traveled outside of the United States know, there are certain things you either can't get abroad or just aren't done right.

So below is my American Food Bucket List. These are things I've eaten, or want to eat, before my departure.
  1. Barbecue. Fortunately for me I spent the last few weeks in Houston. Texas barbecue is hard to beat, and I made my ritual migration to Goode and Company. There is nothing like their brisket and jalapeno cheese bread. Though barbecue refers to anything cooked over open flame, American, and particularly Texan, barbecue is special.
  2. Sushi. While not an 'American' food, I'm not expecting to find many sushi restaurants in Morocco. I didn't encounter any in Rabat two years ago, and living in Fez, which is not on the coast, I feel like my exposure to any seafood will be minimal. While in Houston I visited Hokkaido, my favorite sushi spot, twice and literally gorged myself.
  3. Pizza. I love good, Italian-American pizza. Ridgefield is chock full of pizza restaurants, some of them better than others, but all of them better than Moroccan pizza.
  4. Mom's Chocolate Chip Cookies. This is my sentimental pick. Everyone loves his or her mom's chocolate chip cookies, and since I won't be getting any for awhile I asked her to whip up a batch for me before I leave. 
  5. Burgers. I love burgers. To me a burger is the perfect version of the perfect food: the sandwich. There are burgers in Morocco, but they aren't the same. The patties are uninspiring. They are dressed with a salad. Worst of all, it is very hard to find American ketchup. Almost all restaurants, except those aimed at tourists, have watery and sweet European ketchup. A burger without rich, Heinz ketchup might as well not be called a burger. I had burgers twice in Houston and plan to eat one as often as I can before Sunday.
What would you miss if you were away from American food for a long time?