1st Week at Training Site

I spent the last week with a family of 5 in a small community of 50 households (many related) that is located in the rolling hills in southeast Morocco. The infrastructure of the community includes the following; electricity, running water, 3 natural springs, one hanut (store), a glis (french hotel), and a mosque. The towns staple is farming that’s done in a valley, courtesy of the springs, while their houses are up the hill in an arid region that seems to have more rocks than soil. It’s a beautiful community though and the residential area makes me think of grandma’s in western Kansas because of some of the landscape, the wind gusts, and solitary nature. Another volunteer described it as “Peace Corps Mars” for its rock, clay floor plan. Walking through the cultivated lowlands, however, is like nothing I’ve ever experienced and features ancient farming practices like hand dug irrigation ditches, small fields, and multi-crop planting laid beneath numerous palm trees. While my friend Graham described the housing area as Mars, this fertile lowland seemed biblical.

My family I stayed with included my host mother Sfia, sister Fatiha (20), and brothers Brahim (18) and Abdlouwahad (15). I have not met my host father Lmkki; I’ve been told he’s a tour guide and is probably in the countryside with some French tourists. The rest of my family is very nice and is very supportive of my language deficiencies. There are few words to express the anxiety one first has when sitting in a room full of Arabic speakers and having nothing to say after you’ve exhausted all of your vocabulary in the previous introductory five minutes. Last week had to have included a thousand myzein (good), zwina (nice), shukran (thank you), snu hadak (what is that), and mafhmtsh (I dont understand). Language is frustratingly slow, probably because we only spend about 4 hours a day on it, we are learning arabic script, and because the pronunciation is so different. I believe there are like eight phonetic sounds in arabic that have no english equivalent, a couple of which are like someone coughing up phlegm. Another one is like saying G-R-H all at the same time, often with another constant coming before the letter.

Overall, it was a great week, just challenging. We traveled back to the hotel 40 km away on Sat, had Sun off, did technical and language training on Mon, and will head back to site this afternoon. I’ll be their again till Sat, then will head somewhere yet unknown for a week thereafter on a field trip to explore the countryside and get more technical training. My next full day off will be in three weeks. In all, the whole experience has become more intense now; instead of a collegiate summer camp as described early, it feels a little like boot camp. This is what I expected though.

In my next post, next week, similar time, I’ll try to provide more info about my experience with my host family. It’s intense and is worth detailing. Otherwise, email me.

Soccer on the Plaza

After class each day, several guys have been heading out to the plaza like sacrificial lambs to talk to the local kids. What I mean by this is that the children love to gather around you and talk to you all at the same time. Most speak a little French, some know a little English, all are patient and enjoy repeating and listening to the same catch phrases again and again. The 11 year old boy that has become my tutor is coincidentally named Zacharia (my middle name). I'll include a picture of him later. The girl posted in this photo is Marianna. I don't know her age, but her two older sisters, including one who took this photo, weren't far off. In the background I believe, you'll see the beginnings of a nightly soccer game.

This coming week I'll be at community based training, which means that I'll spend the week with a host family, where I'll be working on my language skills.

Like College Wrapped into Summer Camp

This past Sunday I learned that I will be learning Darija (Da-Rar-jha) for the next 11 weeks. Darija is the native name for Moroccan Arabic, and is used as reference because if I said I was learning Arabic, it would technically mean that I'm learning classical Arabic. In general, you could say that I'm learning an Arabic dialect. Other dialects in the world include Egyptain (used in Arabic films), Iraqi, Jordanian, etc. If one was to make the mistake that the Arab world is homogenous or lacks diversity, distinctions like the previous plus cultural elements like history, socio-economic status, media, and even religion (Sunni, Shia) provide examples of the Arab worlds richness. For example, I've found that many people that speak Darija also French fluent and speak some English and Spanish.

Along with Darija, other volunteers are learning Tamazight and Tashelhit, two native Berber languages that are found in the Atlas and Rif Mountains along with the surrounding lowlands. Although I am very interested in the history of the Berber which I find comparable to North American Indians, I'm excited to be learning Darija. As the national language, it gives me travel flexibility, allows me to work more on Arabic script (which I'm currently learning), and gives me more choice in chosing a secondary language. By this I mean that after May, I'll have the opportunity to find a tutor subsidized by the PC to work on Darija and maybe a second lang like French, Spanish, or Tamazight. Also, once I learn arabic script, I can self study classical arabic through literature.

Since Sun, I've been in a language tutoring session of 5 for 4 hrs a day, while the rest of the day has been spent on cultural/technical training. Our days are typically from 8-6 and the language is exhausting, but we still get quite a bit of free time. Popular activities in the evening and on Sun (our free day) include playing soccer with the local boys, shopping, and studying.

Of interest, yesterday when I was bargaining with a shop owner over the price of a handbag for a female volunteer, I was told that I was "trying to buy a camel for the price of a chicken." When he said 130 dirhams, I said 70. In response, he pretended to act insulted, then invited us in to his shop for tea. I've found that this is common, friendly bait; invite you for tea or talk, then sell you their goods or handicrafts. Coming from a cultural where the only bargining is done at the car dealership, pawn shop, or garage sale, this is something I'll have to get used to. Also, I don't view this friendly, covert approach should be called hustling. When a local shop owner Rasheet invited us into his shop, it took him 20 mins before he started selling us anything. First, he ordered his asst to prepare tea, which didn't arrive till 45 mins later. Next, he talked with us about Moroccan cultural and history. Lastly, he went for the sell, but in a way that emphasized making us repeat customers. In the end, he sold me a nice pair of camel leather slippers (I've been told its goat) for 100 dhms, 60 dhms cheaper than what he said was his regular price.

Next Mon, I leave to go live with my host family for the week and will begin what is called community based training. I've been told that one of PC's requirements in selecting potential families is that they have no English speakers.

After a 10 hr bus trip yesterday through the Atlas Mountains with countless switch-backs, we arrived at our training site where we’ll be for a few weeks. The landscape here is arid with few trees, flat, with terra cotta buildings stacked tightly together in the community. There is always construction going on, like the other Moroccan towns we’ve been in and passed through, reminding you of home and that progress defined by one’s own cultural is a universal element of all people.
On yesterday, our trip through the Atlas was the most exciting moment since I’ve been here. Climbing and descending through the mountains probably took 3-4 hours and made at least one person sick. The view was breathtaking, many of the small, complex communities were intimate, and the paved road we took that was shared with other buses, small cars, and desert SUVs seemed intrusive. The road was narrow with barely enough room for two cars to pass, and their were many times that I felt our bus could just tumble off the edge and go rolling down a 70-80 degree, 200 ft embankment.

The Berbers, whose communities in Morocco began once you ascend into the Atlas and where we presently reside opposite side in the arid flatlands, make up over 40% of the states population, although for a long time they were not officially recognized. They have two languages, which now escape me, and their roots in the area known as the Maghreb (Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia, and Libya) can be traced back to 10,000 B.C. This has been verified by archaeological finds in primitive agricultural settlements and encampments alongside ancient lakes. Later, the native Berber tribes (comes from the Greek “barbarian” and still maintains that derogatory sense in Arabic today) entered written history through trading with the Phoenicians around 1300 BC (Rogerson 2005).

Berber culture seems fascinating and is user-friendly, meaning they seem very welcoming to strangers that impose upon them. In a cultural sense, the Berber can be juxtaposed with the Aymara Indians of Peru and Bolivia in S. America. Both groups were able to protect their cultural identity in highland, mountainous regions while those living geographically below them in the lowlands were often conquered, converted, and forcibly assimilated into the dominant, foreign cultures of the Inca, Spanish and Portuguese and for the Berber, the Romans, Moors, and French. The Berber also seem comparable to North American Indians in more than the fact that they arrived in Africa and American at relatively the same time. I’ll probably write more about their similarities in the future.

Some of the Berber settlements are also reminiscent of the Pueblo Indians in the southwest U.S. in that they are built into the side of the mountains, although many are built on leveled off flat areas. They are small terra cotta buildings, although some seem made with a more simple clay and the villages that I saw ranged in size from 10-200 houses.

Entering the Atlas Mountains

Rabat 3rd day

After sessions during the day that included an intro to Islam, some general info for administering medical help when a doctor is not available, and a more specific discussion of our environmental duties, we left for the Medina again, although our final destination was the sea. Traveling through the Medina this time was much easier; one of the guys I accompanied had lived and went to school in its perimeters while studying abroad. He said that after his third week of school, he was still losing his way and others would miss the whole day trying to find the school.

From the Medina, we cut through a casbah (fortified market/residency) to get to the Atlantic at dusk. After walking (not climbing) up to a higher elevation, the sea looked beautiful and visible outlined next to the city and ports. Its unlikely that Ill be posted in a costal area (maybe wetlands), so this will probably be my last visit outside of vacation to the Atlantic.

Tomorrow, we leave Rabat and go to our PC Training site for the environmental sector. After a few days their, we’ll be moving in with our host family. We’ll spend most of our time on the bus traveling to the site, so I look forward to seeing the countryside. I also look forward to learning the language, either Berber or Moroccan Arabic, although the paradox is that I always hated language classes in school. Hopefully I’ll be more motivated this time.

This post closes my rein of receiving free wireless from the cybercafe down the street (which incidentally charges 15 dirham an hour (1 dollar = 8.9 dhm). My roommate and I, another Mac user, operated our own quasi cafe; we must have had 3 at a time in the room most nights. Now, I probably will have only occasional email access.

Rabat 2nd Day

This Wed was vaccinations, a visit from the U.S. ambassador to Morocco, and a trip to the medina (market). Will skip to the medina. After a day of lock down in the hotel, we were allowed to leave for 2 hrs that evening before our curfew at 8 PM. Rabat’s medina when we entered during the rush in the evening probably had between 50-100k people packed tightly. It covered several miles in each direction and was like a labyrinth. To my understanding, this maze like quality was built into their construction centuries ago. If invaders (like the Moors, French, and Babri pirates did in Morocco) entered a medina (where many people also live in relation to their shops), residents could scramble and hide.

The medina is the economic bloodline for much of the city’s populace. Next to Rabat’s medina was a Casbah, another market/residency that is enclosed inside a fortress. This one was just off the Atlantic and I’ll talk about our visit their later.

NOTE: the photo above is not of the Rabat medina. It's typical one story buildings are packed tightly together, it's strictly for pedestrians (although some motorcycles came roaring through), and much more decorative. Photos of medinas can probably be found online. For my own safety, I thought it wouldn't be wise to take a picture of a crowd shopping when candid photos are normally frowned upon in Muslim culture. Of note, when one person in my group asked if he could take a Moroccans pic, the woman asked for money. I've heard this happens often in sub-Saharan Africa too. In my opinion, those that are being photographed aren't to blame, but that its a product of our materialist cultural where everything's equated to money. The idea of asking for money for services rendered is foreign to many cultures; it was intro by capitalist states.

The above photo is another from the hotel rooftop. Notice all the antennaes on the right side. I actually see more satellite dishes- they're everywhere.

Rabat 1st Day

NOTE: Here’s my first post on my Peace Corps trip to Morocco. I have a large canvas to paint of this foreign landscape that I’ll be in for the next two years and will try to cover most of what I find relevant. With that said, I will be more formal in my posts and will practice self censorship as this is in the public domain. Feel free to email with any questions or personal info.

DISCLAIMER: Any message, photo, or other information provided on this blog site does not represent the views or opinions of the United States of America or the U.S. Peace Corps.

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After leaving JFK Int’l from NYC at 6:30 PM on Mon., our flight on Royal Air Maroc arrived Tues at the Casablanca airport around 7 AM to a bright sun and cool weather in the 40s. The airport was large, surrounded by crop fields, shrubs, and some palm trees. From Casablanca, we took a bus to Rabat to the Chellah Hotel, where will be staying till Friday.
At the Chellah, we spent the day in meetings discussing security, vaccinations, job roles etc. About meals, we’ve had a mediterrean buffet style spread with things like mutton, fish, chicken, rice, veggie combos, and cake desserts. A big part of a Moroccan day is drinking mint tea, which is like sweet green tea (hot) and is served with cookies. With little Pepsi and ice cream available to me over the next two years, tea will probably become my daily staple.
My first impressions of the culture from experience, not readings is that Moroccans place a lot of value on their relationships and daily interaction. As an example, I can’t speak Arabic yet, but I asked one of the servers today “kif halek?” (how are you). Well, I knew but was not prepared for the response that comes when you engage some people beyond the usual Salaam A’likuum (Peace be upon you). From “how are you,” the conversation quickly turns into a rapid succession of “how is your family, how are your parents, how is your health, where are you from...” The normal greeting when you engage someone includes 7-9 formal phrases. I was overwhelmed, but will start working on this.