August, 2001
This whole adventure started back in August when I applied on a whim to
Oxfam-Quebec for a
Netcorps-Cyberjeunes internship. My application and interview (in French!) were successful and I accepted the Morocco project without hesitation.
September, 2001
The orientation week from September 9-15 was an extremely positive experience. Our workshops on cultural and professional integration were both interesting and useful. The highlight, however, was the social element: meeting and sharing in our pre-departure nerves and excitement with fellow interns from all over Canada,
destined for internships around the globe. The delicious meals, campfire chats and break-time frisbee sessions were not to be forgotten. I must add that we also shared in our discovery and mutual shock on September 11th, certainly contributing to our sense of connectedness. Good luck to all the interns!
The last couple weeks of the month was spent mainly preparing for the technical aspect of my internship, including "sharpening" (read: birthing) my web skills by developing this site.
Early October, 2001
The first two weeks of October involved all last minute preparations for my departure. I visited Montreal and spent lots of time with friends and family. For so long the date of my October 15th departure was looming, and now so quickly it has come and gone.
Wednesday October 17, 2001
Typing messages will be a laborious process as it was in
Switzerland using these darned French keyboards
(different than ours). I arrived finally in Rabat this morning after my
overnight in Paris. My flight was delayed in Toronto so I missed my connection and was put up
by Air France in the Paris Novotel. This may sound glamorous but with the flight fatigue, jetlag, and waiting at the airport
taking all my energy, about all I had left was used up watching Anna Kournakova play a brutal match in some European indoor tournament on my hotel tv.
When I finally arrived in Rabat and got over my minor freak out at the fact that everything was written in Arabic, I was met at the airport by
Ahmed, an assistant at the Oxfam Office here. I was
taken to the flat downtown Rabat where we will stay
for the rest of the week before heading to Al Hoceima
on Sunday. This week will be quiet, with a few
meetings, an embassy visit tomorrow, etc. Next week
will be my first at my flat in Al Hoceima, and I
gather it will be quiet with respect to work, just to
get to know the people and place etc. Real work
begins the Monday following. For now there are 8 of
us cyberjeunes together, plus Pierre our 'leader', who is based
here in Rabat.
Rabat feels very safe, almost like a
busy Spanish city, a breeze compared to Bombay (I
think Morocco will be easier to travel then India,
that remains to be seen). I am exhausted after my
long journey (believe it or not I am wearing the same
clothes, except socks, as when I left Toronto). Don't
worry I'll shower within a few weeks. I did actually take a brief tour into Paris last night to find my friend Paco on
Rue Oberkampf, he wasn't home, so I just walked a few
metro stops to Place Republique and took the train
back to the hotel. I was exhausted but didn't sleep
very well then barely got up for my 8 am airport bus.
I have only been here a half day but I am not
anticipating problems relating to the 'situation' - I
shall know more as time goes on.
Friday October 19, 2001
It's Friday evening and the week has been great so
far. Our agenda has been quite loose. Yesterday
morning we visited the embassy and registered, then
actually met the ambassador who (speaking like a real
politician) assured us we were doing a great thing
both for ourselves, our country, and our organization
- don't I feel like a little goodwill ambassador in
these interesting times - Hey thanks Mr. Ambassador!
Yesterday afternoon we were at the local Oxfam Office
and chatted about cultural integration & had yet
another peek at everyone's favorite "culture iceberg" - the Ace-up-the-sleeve for any overseas project coordinator.
The highlight was after that we met with a Moroccan
woman (in her late 20's) and she told us about her
impressions of the Canadians she has worked with in
the office there as well as a bit about Moroccans and
their culture and religion. Of course we drifted into
politics and had a rather enlightening experience in
terms of realising how skewed our media is in
representing each other's cultures. Hey, we're just
people, you're just people, let's just get along! I
told her how anxious our families were that we were
coming here at this time and she was shocked - she
explained how peace and warmth and hospitality are
part of the culture here and we have nothing to fear.
Any radical elements are just that, generally
invisible from the mainstream.
I have a good feeling
about things here, it's interesting to note that while
things move so quickly for us at home (our society has
been transformed in 5 short weeks) here everything
moves at a much slower pace. While tourism has of
course dropped I get the sense that Moroccans haven't
undergone the radical shift in cultural perception
that we have. I think they do oppose the bombing
campaign and Bush's "anti-terrorist" policy of
destroying Afghanistan (and things could really get
worse if the status quo drags on indefinitely,
particularly during Ramadan next month and if the
bombs spread outside the borders of Afghanistan) - but
they don't despise white people or Westerners and
there hasn't been a visible racist backlash (like
there has been for us). These observations are all
based on just a few conversations and I am really
excited to head off to Al Hoceima and get to know
people there. I feel lucky to be here now, to get a
glimpse of the Arab world and Islam beyond pictures of
extremist rioters burning flags on CNN. I look
forward to gaining a better understanding of the
culture here and hopefully in turn gaining insight into
our worrisome situation.
I wasn't expecting to focus so much on politics but as
my anxiety before coming related to the political
situation, it seems to make sense to quickly gain my
bearings on the situation here. So far, I can't
foresee any problems.
Away from politics, last night the 7 of us interns
(one guy left as his grandfather was ill - what a
shame to come all this way and turn right around...)
had nice little party at the Rabat interns' flat. I
took a taxi home after midnight with my 2 roommates
only to find our apartment gate entrance locked and
neither of our 2 keys worked! Locked out and stranded
at 1 am on a strange Moroccan street - this could have
been a problem (or at least a bit scary) in other
cities but it felt safe here and we eventually took a
taxi back to our friends' pad and crashed on the sofa.
It was more a pain in the arse and a blanketless
sleep than anything else. This morning we discussed
how we are doing and general feedback with Pierre. Then we ate a
delicious seafood feast - "merlens" - small fried fish
- delicious with class A Med olives. And I only have
minor diarrea to show for it - the biggest treat of
all!
This aft I napped in lieu of visiting the beach and am
writing now before dinner. Tomorrow the bazaar and
preparation to leave on Sunday morning.
Monday October 22, 2001
It's now a week since I left, already time is slowly
going by quickly. I am still in Rabat, the capital
and a big city full of white apartment blocks, smog,
great patisseries, an old quarter (the "medina"), and right on the
Atlantic ocean. My stay here was extended a few days
due to "logistics", but I leave tomorrow by bus for Al
Hoceima. I am really looking forward to it - settling
into my apartment, job, etc. I am doing well, so far
I have been more of a tourist than anything else -
today I took a roll of photos of great mosaic tiles,
Roman ruins, and moorish architecture - which I will try to post
in the media section of this site as soon as I get the chance.
I already finished my first book, the first Harry
Potter - it's great fun you should all read it. I bought
the second one today (in French) for 77 dirhams (11
dollars). Oh yeah - I am speaking French
exclusively as I pass my time with Quebecois or
dealing with shopkeepers etc. It is great
practise, I am already improving.
Wednesday October 24, 2001
Finally I have arrived in Al Hoceima! I write from the cybercafe across the street from my new flat (somehow I get the feeling that it is a flat, not an apartment - apartments only exist in North America). It's 20 minutes to 11 am and I am still sweating in my nice new button down shirt which I am proudly wearing in anticipation of meeting my colleagues later today. I was awoken this morning by the Arabic (sic: Berber Tamazirt) calls and kicks of the local "foot" (soccer) peewee team. Just outside my window, below the Riffian mountaintop stretching backward and skyward powdered in whitewashed buildings, lies a little soccer court. A concrete square I am sure will be buzzing day and night with drop passes and swift headers (a problem the morning after a late night but a great thing in sight of improving my foot "skills" and getting to know the local folks). The flat itself I will share with Anne-Claire from Drummondville, Quebec - with whom my francais is surely improving. It is safe and secure, up on the 3rd floor just above our Moroccan landlady with hennah-stained hands and not a word of anything but Maghrebian Arabic (sic: Berber Tamazirt). The walls are beautifully decorated in painted tiles, the whole place seems never lived in. Despite not having a shower curtain, stove, oven or fridge (which we'll hopefully track down soon) it seems perfect.
This morning after the landlady's friend/assistant (sic: daughter) brought us the ubiquitous sweet mint tea and some fresh baguette and jam for breakfast, we (Anne-Claire, myself and Pierre, our coordinator who is based in Rabat but escorted us here yesterday and will stay a day or two to help us get settled at home and work) took a stroll down to the beach. Perhaps 10 minutes throught the Spanish style town square and down the cliff trail, past hotels and restaurants recently closed for the season, lies a stunning stretch of Mediterranean beach. Surrounded by a crescent shaped tower of high cliffs lies the bay and its hot sun, blue sky, and gently lapping sea. In the distance across the sea lies more Riffian
mountains, either a continuation of the mainland in a grand bay or an island - I have yet to figure that out. The general ambiance of the place seems surely Meditteranean, quite different from the somewhat chaotic smoggy North African vibe of Rabat. There is quite a lot of Spanish presence, although surely augmented for the 3 day "Encuentro Euro-Arabe" conference, for which I hear the Prince of Morocco will visit today. Anyhow I am looking forward to getting to know this place - I think it will be a perfect setting for my internship.
Yesterday the 3 of us left our Rabat flat at a quarter to 8 in the morning to catch an 8:30 bus to Al Hoceima. After waiting an hour for the bus to arrive we finally left at 9:30. We passed Fes at around noon, drove a few hours before stopping in some market town for a lunch of bread, olives and kefta (barbecued spicy minced beef). We then entered the Rif mountains and continued about 6 hours through hairpin turns and slow mountain stretches before we finally arrived. Final duration of the 450 km trip from Rabat to Al Hoceima: 13 hours. It seemed like we would never arrive - every town we passed through I was just hoping was Al Hoceima. I guess I won't be making too many weekend trips to visit the other Cyberjeunes in Rabat or Fes.
So despite the isolation (hours of mountains, desert or sea in any direction) I have a great feeling about Al Hoceima - I think things will be super here. I have only to see my work and meet my colleagues this aft then get unpacked and set up the flat.
Saturday October 27, 2001
I am doing well, basically getting settled into my space, apartment, job, etc. This town is sleepy to say the least: zero bars (muslims don't drink, in public at least), the women have to be home to tend their homes and children by 7:30 pm, by 9 pm last night (Friday) there was not a sound to be heard anywhere. So I see that my time here will be spent not amusing myself in the usual social activities of going out etc. However I am engaged in learning Arabic and the woman in whose house we are living will meet with me a few times a week to help me as I'll help her with her French. Needless to say I am speaking no English here - French with my roommate and the people at work and some Spanish in shops and in the street. That is probably a good thing as it aids in my 'incognito' status - not sharing my cultural background with anyone and just pretty much trying to overcome my own prejudices and remain open minded in observing the cultural climate of this place.
That can be difficult at times as a certain bias towards American and Middle Eastern issues is bred from birth through media and cultural influences. The media headlines are always colored towards pro-Islamic and anti-"war-on-terrorism" sentiment and as such the people's beliefs are no different. So I tend to bite my tongue whenever discussing politics which is difficult as I feel so closely attached to my beliefs. But I am getting used to it, and actually feel lucky to have the opportunity to be here now and really get to know Islamic culture first hand.
I have not had any chance to go to the sea and the weather has been consistently cloudy anyhow. I hope to find some people to play soccer or maybe even basketball with at some point soon as I am in dire need of getting physically active and burning off any tendency to boredom or loneliness. Today I will head off with my roommate in search of a little fridge and to replace the small gas stove we bought yesterday as it doesn't work at all. Last night I cooked my first meal here in the kitchen of our hosts (who are not Arab, they are Berber - the original tribe of the region) and it was fun to have the mother helping me wash and prepare zucchini and garlic and speak to me as if I understood in her Berber language.
Monday October 29, 2001
After embarassingly sending a satellite group email to everyone I know which was meant for Judah (for which I have received enough puzzled or teasing responses)...
I wanted to share some of the various challenges to be overcome in communicating socially and at work. These include the language barrier (most communication is in French, my second language and the third of most people here), cultural/body language miscommunication, my own anxiety relating to my personal cultural background and how I can fit in here in this conservative Islamic town etc.
Communication difficulties aside, I am slowly overcoming the culture shock of being completely immersed in a new environment where no moment of daily affairs resembles anything I have previously experienced. Slowly but surely I am getting to know people and develop a trust with them through shared experience and common values. I am looking forward to building these relationships over the next 4.5 months and truly gaining an understanding of how things work in this crazy place. I have started trying to learn Arabic, starting with learning the letters of the Alphabet - by no means an easy task considering there are 28 letters, most of which have a different form depending on where they sit in a word. There are also several sounds which don't exist in English, including 2 h's, 2 d's, a gargle, a vomit-like tongue movement, and other strange contortions of the throat. It is a challenge but for now a simple "Salem Aleykum" (hello) is a good start.
Monday November 5, 2001
I sat down last night to write a message but got distracted by among other things the jeers and cheers from the cafe across the street from the internet cafe and never finished the message. The occasion? "Madrid/Barca", specifically the long awaited showdown between Real Madrid and FC Barcelona of the Spanish Premier Football League. In effect due to the proximity of Al Hoceima to Spain, the fact the many people speak at least some Spanish, and not least of which that cable tv includes Spanish channels with Spanish sports - this town is about half divided between Madrid and Barca supporters. For some time now there has been some hype about the game, the first I heard of it was last Sunday on Quemado beach when the 14 year old Moroccan kids, after schooling me outright in how to maneovre a soccer ball, informed me of the big game. So last night every cafe in town was packed to the brim with males of all ages (the females of all ages of course respecting their virtual 'curfew', home by 7:30 pm to tend
their families or just simply not be seen in the street - the men by contrast free to roam as they please). Not a seat to be found in any cafe with tv access to the game, if you could find a vantage point from where you could see more of the front of the tv screen than the side of the tv box you were lucky. I was not one of the fortunate and the best I could do was the very back of the large cafe behind the guy exhaling cigarette smoke into my face and the 4 card players including the one who left to get a tea or a smoke every few minutes only to return with his "J'arrive, j'arrive" before diving into conversation in the usual Tamazirt language everyone speaks. All in all I am not a big enough fan to put up with the lousy viewing conditions and left at halftime - Madrid was up 1-0 but I don't even know who won.
Also on the agenda this past weekend (which came as a welcome respite from last week whose days I spent entirely occupied by the computer at work - debugging and reinstalling and cleaning up the digital mess - I spent one night dreaming in DOS of boot sectors and directory listings - I don't recommend it) was Saturday which consisted of rest and relaxation. Not that I was in form to go anywhere as Friday night I was rudely gutted with my first real bout of the infamous 'traveler's diarrhea' (reference any Lonely Planet guide for more info). I spent Saturday morning chilling at home and was well taken care of by the family who lives downstairs in our apartment - we actually rent a room in their home which is more like a four storey apartment building with two flats per floor than a house. I made it out in the early evening for my weekly dose of culture: a play in Tamazirt, of which I understood nothing and along with my diarrhea was left with no choice but to leave at intermission.
Sunday afternoon was spent in the countryside where I attended my first Moroccan wedding. Invited by a women I work with at the Forum des Femmes to her sister's big day, 6 of us crammed into the taxi for the half hour ride out of town. It was a generally pleasant day but certainly not what I expected - as the men and women are essentially separated the whole time and the groom didn`t show up until after we left. Upon arrival I was whisked off to the men's area where some local old men in jelebas (the berber kaftan) were eating peanuts and drinking mint tea. After talking a bit about the war and where Canada was we were served the meal. Each small table of 3-4 men received a large bowl of roasted lamb and another of chicken. No utensils were offered. I tried to explain that in Canada if you eat with your hands as a child your mother slaps your wrist and sends you crying to your room - so 'it's a little difficult for me to start now'. Nonetheless the instincts take over and I figured out quickly how to tear the bread and use it and my fingers to pick the meat off the bone. Nice bowls of fresh fruit for dessert and most of the older men disappeared for the prayer (which happens five times a day and is announced each time over a loudspeaker attached to the tower of the mosque). I took a stroll around the grounds, saw the traditional Riffian home built using logs as pillars and cement made from earth and straw. My friend Hossein the photographer took me down the hill to the local cafe to check out the locals watching the news on tv, drinking sweet tea and passing calmly their long wooden kif pipes to each other. (That's right, I said kif - look it up on the internet).
It may sound exciting and interesting and wonderful all these stories of cultural exploration and enlightenment - which it often can be, but don't be fooled. The sense of culture shock felt often, the difficulties in communication and constant sense of walking on eggshells when commenting on cultural or political issues makes interaction hard work. The economic situation here in the Rif is far from positive and the bleak future foreseen by many young people is difficult for me to justify or even relate to. The disorganization at work is a whole other story, with the Forum having very little structure in mind for exactly how I should operate during my time here. There is a constant sense of distrust of food and water and care must always be taken to avoid potentially falling ill. All said of course the experience is positive overall but there are many challenges to be overcome in the meantime.
I just wanted to finish off by commenting that a couple friends have emailed me expressing concern over how safe it is for me to be here now and that the war situation must be stressful etc. The remarkable thing is that quite the contrary, I feel much less anxiety here than I did in Toronto. The Rif is an isolated region, the people here are not Arabs they are Amazirs (Berbers) who are Muslim but speak Arabic as a second language and have a history of tension with their Arab conquerers as well as with the European colonisers who have tried to force their languages upon them. The bottom line is that here in the Rif people have their own serious problems to worry about and the war, while everyone knows what is happening, is not something that dominates the conscience like it does back home. I have discussed politics often but not once have I felt any aggression towards me for being an Occidental. As the townspeople see us around more and more and realize that we are not tourists, they seem to be
opening themselves up to us and not blocking us out.
It's three weeks since I left home and I am really starting to feel like I am "in" the voyage. This week I will prepare my computer lessons which I start next Monday and hopefully head off to Chefchaouen this weekend to check out what is supposed to be a great little town.
Tuesday November 13, 2001
Tuesday evening and it's been a while since I have written a journal entry or email update proper. So much happens in a week it is difficult to give a recap, I'll just have to settle for a few highlight stories. Last week Tuesday was a civic holiday celebrating the date of the "Green March" when hundreds of thousands of Moroccans convened in the Western Sahara in the south of the country to protest Spanish Occupation, leading to Spanish retreat. Of course ever since then the region has been embroiled in war as the local population of the region want indepedence from Morocco. The king isn`t keen to give up the oil-rich sand dunes and is willing to use military force to retain the territory. So much as to say that myself and my roommate Anne-Claire worked that day in order to earn a long weekend with a Friday vacation.
The westbound bus to Chefchaouen departed 13h00 Thursday afternoon from the Al Hoceima bus area, set up in an open square area 5 minutes up the hill from the main plaza and feeling slightly shadier than other areas. The few tourists that do come through this town (I have only seen 4 since I arrived a few weeks ago) are greeting by the ubiquitous "host", kindly offering lodging at his 'friend's' hotel or in Al Hoceima's case an exciting tourist excursion to nearby Ketama, the region that produces most of Western Europe's hashish imports, many of which depart by boat from the port 10 minutes walk from my apartment under full eyes of government and police officials. The ride was uncomfortable to be euphemistic, and I promised Anne upon departure that "cent per cent je vais vomir". I never actually used the black plastic shopping bag I carried in my lap the whole ride, but on the return ride Sunday afternoon I promise that at least half of the pee wee soccer team on the bus were spitting and barfing without abandon. We spent three nights in Chefchauen and stayed in the Pension Barcelona, meeting our companion Daniel who is also a Cyberjeune, based in Tetouan. He brought two Morrocan friends along, Mjido and Khalid, some of the first Arabs I have gotten to know (as everyone in Al Hoceima is Amazirt/Berber). We had a fantastic time the 5 of us, exploring the picture perfect town built into the surrounding Riffian mountains in its old Andalucian architecture and craftsmanship. The shops in the narrow alleyed Medina sell stunning crafts ranging from carpets to clothing to pottery to leather work to metal craft. The prices by Canadian standards are very low and for 50 dollars you can buy a beautiful piece. The first strange contrast on strolling around town was the presence there of a tourist culture; a few scraggly sweatered couples and face pierced British party dudes. We also met two Swiss guys who were on a one month bicycle tour from Malaga, Spain to Marrakech, Morocco - way to go boys - that's some hard-core adventure!
Everyone one of us was in for a surprise when the temperatures dropped Friday night to near-zero. I layered on everything I had brought with me which wasn't enough as I wasn't expecting anything colder than the fresh fall breeze which was the coldest I had seen so far. That night I slept shivering in the burgundy "jeleba" I bought on a whim that morning and air-sealed in my single blanket. A jeleba is the Harry-Potter-style sorcerer's robe with the peaked hood (it looks nothing like the KKK hood after a while) that many Moroccan men sport as a winter coat or in the striped cotton version a casual suit. Saturday morning we woke up to the sight of snow on the nearby mountain peaks, the frosting of our breath, and the realization that it gets COLD in Morocco!
I took lots of photos and recorded some sweet sounds on my Minidisc. Unfortunately Khalid and I's percussion jam on Saturday night was recorded fully distorted. I discretely proposed many questions to Khalid and Mjido and gained insight into Morocco's immigration problem - the fact that every young Moroccan immigrates often illegally to Western Europe rather than brave the corrupt government and unemployment percentages here - and an Arab perspective on the Middle East crisis. Regarding immigration, I heard an amusing anecdote that after all the Moroccans have left across the Meditteranean for Europe the king will turn out the lights and follow them. Regarding other political issues, it is surely interesting and equally disturbing to understand just how divided the world is on so many issues. I learned some Arabic and came to realize just how sweetly many expressions are phrased, including "la shukran, alla wajhib" which means 'don't thank me, it's my duty' and is said after someone is thanked. The weekend flew by and on the ride home on Sunday it was incredible to see the moutains and pine trees near Ketama covered in snow after only three days earlier they were brown, barren and dry. It was great to get away from Hoceima for a couple days and soak in a new place and some different company.
Yesterday I started my "formations", teaching three classes of two levels of local women and two men - some of whom need to walk an hour or more from the countryside to get to their lesson. It was great to be teaching again as since my time at Mackenzie last year I have forgotten how much I enjoy the role. I have a lot of work to do to get prepared for the courses and will have to be flexible as my schedule will change when I start teaching at the women's centre which opens in Imzouren in a month or so. Imzouren is a half hour ride by taxi (11 km) from Hoceima and should be an experience as the women of the conservative community have just starting being allowed to leave their homes at all in the last few years. I will also change my routine starting this Saturday morning which is the first day of Ramadan, the annual month-long Muslim tradition of fasting during daylight hours. Apparently the whole routine of life changes as people stay up late eating and revelling, making up for the day's empty stomach. I am going to try out the fast - perhaps not for the whole month but just long enough to get a taste - so to speak. This year there has been talk of Ramadan in the press as everyone is wondering whether the US bombardment will continue during the holy fasting month. I for one naively pray for a break in the violence and foresee a substantial backlash in the world's Muslim community if Afghan civilians are killed during Ramadan. Already tensions are high globally and extremist movements in Muslim countries are rising in numbers. The longer this thing goes on, the worse off we will be when it's over.
DROP YOUR WEAPONS NOW, COWBOYS!!!
Monday November 19, 2001
This week I must reflect upon the event that has begun and has changed the whole spirit of Hoceima. Ramadan, the Islamic holy month, began Saturday morning. In addition to the regular 5 prayers a day, during Ramadan there is no eating, drinking or smoking cigarettes during daylight hours. Most people awake before sunrise at 5 am for the first prayer and a small breakfast before going back to sleep until 9 or 10. In theory work continues but the town is certainly quieter than normal, especially in the few hours leading up the the breaking of the fast at 5:15. The minutes before the siren and prayer call which announce that it is time to eat are accompanied by an eerie silence as everyone is home around the dining room table ready to chow. Everyday during the 30 day Ramadan the first meal at sundown is the same. "Harirah" is the main course, a hearty tomato-based soup filled with noodles, chick peas, green peas, onions, and small chunks of meat. Eaten with a sweet oily heavy pastry twisted into bizarre pretzel-shapes and a light plain cake for dessert, the meal is complete but easy to digest. After the first meal the streets are lively as everyone is on the town getting errands done, drinking "na'a na'a" mint tea and coffee and smoking cigarettes. The lethargy and irritable tranquility before the meal is replaced by a relieved festive spirit in the later evening. By 11 pm a larger meal is served, usually fried small spiced fish, bread and a spread of beetroot, carrot, potato, and tomato salads on a large round plate. Tonight we also ate an unidentified but delicious green vegetable dish, almost a curry in its appearance and flavour. Up until bedtime after midnight there is more nibbling on dates, olives, and clementines and a final cup of mint tea.
After two days of the Ramadan fast I am already feeling the spiritual transition that occurs, both in myself and in the people in town. Personally I notice the building hunger and eventual satisfaction after eating creates an awareness and appreciation of the food we eat. The body's natural rhythms are challenged and the spirit in turn must follow. It is still early in the Ramadan month but after several more weeks of fasts I imagine that the physical, spiritual, and cultural contrasts with normal times will be even more distinct. Ramadan, beyond the religious importance, seems as much as anything an excuse for families to spend their evenings together and feast until they can't eat another bite.
Some of the heavier dishes normally eaten I have not yet seen since the beginning of Ramadan. The tagine, for example, is a chicken/lamb roast served in a large bowl filled with a spicy gravy, egg and vegetables, and topped with olives, prunes or raisins. Everyone at the table shares the same central bowl and uses their hands to tear the meat off the bone and dip their bread in the sauce. No one uses any plates or cutlery and their hands and the plastic table cloth are usually covered in crumbs and sauce. When the meat is finished the bowl is cleared and a bowl of fruit is served. Bananas and clementines are most common, with an occasional apple to round out the dish.
This weekend was calm and besides staying in and listening to music or playing poker, I explored the town on foot. Yesterday an evening stroll to the beach and today a peek around the mountains to the "beaches" on the other side of the cliffs. The beaches I saw consisted of small plots of pebbles with just enough room on the coast for a tide of plastic bottles, juice cartons, cigarrete packs and food waste to wash ashore. The garbage pollution of the sea is fairly severe as the town's liquid and solid waste is all dumped into the sea not far from port, after which the population swim and eat fish from the polluted waters. The pollution is not nearly as bad here as in Morocco's bigger cities specifically nearby Nador, where the local industrial sites dump chemical pollution as well. I think the pollution could be greatly improved with some public education on the matter, as ignorance of ecological protection is simply lack of education. But with corruption and inefficiency plaguing local educational ministries most local initiatives by teachers or parents are not implemented.
With regards to Afghanistan, I chatted briefly this evening with a local man in a photocopy shop where I made 13 copies of "Different Cursors in Windows '98" for my lesson tomorrow morning. He stated simply, "we are against Taliban, and we are against America". The bottom line of local opinion is that the American bombing is clearly opposed as the justification of the deaths of innocent bystanders in Afghanistan is no more easily justifiable than the deaths of the innocent Americans. On the subject of 9/11, many people are hesitant to accept Western proclamations that Bin Laden was the mastermind of the attacks. Some alternative theories include an American civilian network and the Israeli government itself in an attempt to sabotage the perception of Islam. I approach these conversations with caution and suppress my emotional response when discussing politics. The reality here is that beyond media propadanda and ignorance of political realities everyone wants peace. We are all brothers and must learn to resolve conflict through discussion not death.
Thursday December 6, 2001
I must gather toghether my journal entries for the last few weeks. Yesterday was my birthday and despite feeling a bit ill it was a great day. I spoke to my family on the phone and was cooked dinner by Anne for myself and Moha. I received some great gifts and we chatted until late last night. This morning I have been updating my website and will head off to work shortly. Tonight I am leaving
on a 9:30 pm bus to Tangier, where we will arrive tomorrow morning. There is a conference there tomorrow until Sunday and many people from Al Hoceima who are involved in NGO work will be there.
I am looking forward to experiencing Tangier from a local's perspective as most tourists I have spoken to despised it.
Thursday December 20, 2001
I haven't been contributing much to the journal page of my website for the last few weeks. One reason is that I have been busy and haven't had/made time to write down what I have been up to. Sometimes it is nice just to live the experiences of life without stopping to write down every detail - not unlike how stopping to take a picture of something changes the moment itself. I won't bother getting into the parallel here with quantum theory, where by measuring a quantity with an external tool changes the event and thus the measurement loses accuracy - a reason to take breaks from photo taking and journal writing. Another reason I have not been writing to my journal is that my website has become fairly common knowledge here in town, and if Moha gets his way every Riffian immigrant in Western Europe will know about it as well. This means that my audience is no longer just family and friends at home, but locals as well. I realize that I cannot write all observations of things as I see them because I must retain a sensitivity to the cultural perspective of people here and I don't want to offend anyone. Thus from here on in I will limit observations on sensitive issues such as religion and politics and keep the content of my journal appropriate for all and any reader.
The conference between Andalucian (southern Spain) and Northern Moroccan NGO's in Tanger was an interesting experience. I met Spaniards from Cadiz, Seville, Malaga and Melilla and Moroccans from Larache, Tanger, Targuist and Al Hoceima. We discussed local culture, problems for Moroccans in Spain and potential paths of action to improve the harsh situation for immigrants across the Mediterranean. The conference was very disorganized and I felt that much more could have been accomplished had things been planned more in advance. On our way back to Al Hoceima, Anne and I visited fellow Cyberjeune Daniel in Tetouan and slept at his apartment in nearby Martil. It was great to see Khalid and Mjido again and we ate great tagines (thanks for the recipe Khalid), played Parchi, and discussed the blockage of communication between the Muslim and Occidental worlds. It was agreed that media/religious propaganda, ignorance, and the breakdown of communication lines are causing these horrific political problems we are currently facing. Let us hope that our leaders will steam off their testosterone and ignorance fuelled conflict and learn to look each other in the eye and talk. Is it so difficult?
Since Tanger I have spent lots of time here with friends Moha, Hossien, and Kozmit. Nearly every evening we find each other in town and go for a coffee (believe me the cafes here are nothing like Starbucks - and the coffee is far better!). Also in the last few days Ramadan ended, leading into the 2 day feast festival of Aid. We ate during the day, invited by Chedia's family, and painted hennah onto our hands. Normally the children of the town get dressed in their finest and leave home to frolick in the streets - this year however it was pouring rain and most people stayed home. The rain, while ruining Aid for the kiddies, was much needed as the countryside has been parched with drought for months.
Tomorrow evening or Saturday morning I am heading off to Fez with Anne, Moha, Anne's friends who are visiting from Montreal and Daniel from Tetouan. From there we will travel down south to Marrakesh and explore the High Atlas mountains. It will be nice to take this 9 day vacation but when I get back I will have tons of work to do if I plan on finishing everything at the Forum before leaving in early March.
Friday February 1, 2002
February has already arrived and it seems as if spring is in the air. The (fairly sparse) almond trees outside of town have blossomed beautiful pink and white flowers. The days are sunnier and warmer than they were in December and early January. The nights are still cool, but certainly not as cold as they were before. I now sleep with two (thick) blankets and have packed the third away in the closet for sleep-over guests. So evidently spring starts earlier here than it does at home, and I am told that from now until mid-summer (July/August) it will continue to get warmer and warmer.
To get up to date, I will attempt to summarize my last 5 weeks in a few paragraphs. The road trip in late December through New Year’s was phenomenal. I had a week and a couple days off work to pursue a “personal project”, and after travelling around other regions of the country I have a much better comprehension of how things operate in Morocco and particularly how the Rif (northern region of Morocco) fits into the overall picture. Starting in Fez with Daniel and Moha, we rented a car and drove southbound through the Middle and High Atlas mountain ranges into the Sahara desert. We continued westbound where we met Juan-Jo and Guillermo (two Basques rock-climbing the Todra Gorge) in Tinerhir and travelled the rest of the journey together. We passed through the casbah route - the countryside dotted with ancient clay castles - and the mountainous pass from Ouazararzate to Marrakech. We continued north to Casablanca, then Larache for New Year’s Eve and finally to drop off the rental car in Tangier. Moha and I spent the night at Daniel’s in Martil (near Tetouan) before returning home to Al Hoceima and getting back to work. The trip was truly extraordinary; the diverse landscapes, kind people with open homes, and rich cultural heritage blended together such that each day was more magical than the one before. I have posted a map of our route and a few photos to the media page, and will post some more in the next couple weeks.
Since my return I have been keeping very busy with work. I am teaching two days a week in Al Hoceima and two days a week in nearby Imzouren. Fridays are set aside to work on the website and any other technical maintenance projects that arise. Finally my courses are moving nicely along and I am sure that by the time my project is finished there will be a good twenty people who will have greatly improved their computer abilities. I have started teaching web skills and have two groups learning HTML and eventually Photoshop and Dreamweaver. The web site for the Forum is slowly but surely getting done, although I am currently faced with a roadblock; the content for the site has yet to be written. I am hoping that it will be ready soon so that we can get the site finished before I leave. By far the most challenging aspect of my experience here has been at work. The norms, rhythms, routines, and particularly communication techniques are completely different to anything I have experienced. I have learned after much frustration and at times stress that I cannot expect things to function professionally here as they do at home. I have been improving over the last few weeks and have learned the importance of patience and open communication for my project’s success. Whew! - It has been a extraordinary challenge to achieve my goals at work.
In mid-January I met the other Cyberjeunes (Daniel from Tetouan, Anne-Claire and myself from Al Hoceima, Catherine and Patricia from Rabat) and our leader Pierre for a mid-project meeting in Meknes. It was a positive experience for all of us, both to take a break from our home routines and to gain outside perspective on our internships and the problems we have encountered. It was relieving to discover that the frustrations and complexities involved in getting things done at work are something that all of us are experiencing. We discussed our difficulties in communication and organization, and with Pierre developed strategies to improve our situations. We also took off a morning to visit Volubilis, a fascinating site of a ruined Roman city. I took some photos of the architecture, mosaics and landscape, and will post them soon.
Now I am back in Al Hoceima, continuing my routine of work in the daytime, basketball a few times a week in the evening, dinner and spending time with friends at night. I also frequently travel on weekends, be it an excursion into the nearby countryside or an overnight in a town a few hours away. I continue to learn new things everyday; the complexity of interpersonal relationships, the malicious psychological side-effects of poverty and oppression, the evolving mess in the political and ecological sphere, as well as the sameness of people once cultural differences are accounted for. I have moments where I am overwhelmed, and at times feel a heavy weight of stress. Sometimes the cultural shock and bizarre situations faced day-to-day take a toll and leave me exhausted. My semi-regular sport, trusted friends, and the ocean view all help to relieve these occasional bouts of stress. Overall things are well, and I am both looking forward to and will be disappointed by leaving in a month. It will be bittersweet.
Saturday March 16, 2002
Writing from Rabat on today my last day here in Morocco. The last 6 weeks since my previous journal entry have been very busy hence the lack of active website updates. I have finished up my internship and finalized (as best as I could) my workshops and other work for Forum de Femmes. Unfortunately the website was not completed due to various reasons beyond my control but if you are interested you can check out the "under construction" page at site.voila.fr/affa. Hopefully the site will be finished by the AFFA (Association Forum de Femmes, Al Hoceima) members and eventually be online. "N'challah", as they say here frequently, which means literally "if it be god's will" and is added at the end of almost every phrase relating to a future event. N'Challah can be an appropriate response to any of the following questions or statements: "Hey Mohammed, so you'll meet me tomorrow at 11?", "Ahmed, are you going to Casablanca on Thursday?", or "Khalid, they say it will rain tomorrow", etc. I have adopted this phrase as my own and use it very often, as it adds an element of ironic doubt to any plan. Anyhow now my friends and family will understand me when I get home in a week (N'challah).
The last month also saw one of the most important events in the Muslim calendar, the Aïd Al Adha. This is a holy day which remembers Abraham's near-sacrifice of his son and is celebrated by sacrificing a lamb. Every household in the country, with the exception perhaps of those who cannot find the financial means to purchase a lamb (which can cost from 1000-3000 Dirhams, 150 to 500 Canadian dollars), slaughters a lamb and spends the next week preparing and and eating it. Every part of the lamb is consumed or used, including the brain and inner organs (a delicious delicacy) and the skin (dried and treated to create a sort of rug). The days before the Aïd it was fascinating to see lambs everywhere being walked or often dragged home and the night before the town echoed from every corner with the lonely calls of confused sheep. The actual slaughter I watched from my home in Al Hoceima and took some interesting pictures, some of which I may post on-line (N'Challah) if they aren't deemed too gory. Every day the following week I ate some the of the most delicious barbecued lamb kebabs I have ever tried, although I was not particularly brave with regards to the more obscure body parts. All in all a fascinating event unlike anything I have seen before.
A week ago I packed up my things and took the 10 hour bus ride from Al Hoceima to Rabat. This past week I spent with the other Cyberjeunes for our end of internship meeting in Merzouga. Yesterday I spent the afternoon at the medina in Rabat to buy some last minute gifts before leaving tomorrow morning (N'Challah). I fly tomorow to Paris and will have a week in Europe before arriving in Toronto late March. Although I do feel ready to leave after a phenomenal experience here in Morocco, I will greatly miss the people I have met and places I have called home these last months.
Monday April 29, 2002
I have been back in Toronto just over a month now. My photos are all set up in a beautiful album and my Morocco tourist guide books are packed away with the other weathered Lonely Planets. I am getting ready to go back to school in the fall and organizing myself for summer employment (which is not going as easily as planned!). I have been in email contact with some of my Moroccan friends and we are slipping into our inevitable routine of occasional messages and the drifting of our time together into our memories.
It certainly took me a few weeks to again feel comfortable in my Canadian milieu. I have for the most part stopped saying "N'challah", eating with my fingers and patting my hand to my heart after a handshake. I no longer am amazed at hearing English conversation everywhere, seeing everyone dressed like I am used to, and seeing people driving big new cars instead of the old Moroccan Mercedes.
I have entered into many political discussions in the last weeks, especially with the heating up of events in the Middle East as I returned home. Much in the same way that I found it difficult for people in Morocco to accept North American perspectives of world events, I find that here in Canada it is equally difficult for us to accept the perspective on events that many have in the Maghreb. So while getting over my reverse culture shock and discussing my experiences abroad, I have realized that while there is only one sociopolitical reality, the perception of this reality in different countries is vastly divergent. I am much more aware of how our medias, government, and (in some cases) religious leaders essentially define how most people perceive both history and contemporary issues. I met several people in Morocco who assured me that Al Jazeera (the pan-Arab television news network) is a critical and unbiased presenter of the "truth". Likewise in North America many are convinced of the reliability of CNN in understanding realities. This example is just an inkling of the complexities I have discovered in terms of how our reality is defined and thus how seeds for difference in opinion and conflict are sewn. I believe that in order to improve global living conditions we must work together to understand each other's hardships and challenges and recognize economic and power imbalances.
My experience in Morocco has been challenging, enlightening and extremely rewarding. I will cherish the new ideas and realities that I have learned about and will work to integrate my newfound understanding into my lifestyle. Thank you for reading and sharing in my experiences and I welcome any comments, questions or discussion on anything regarding my website.
There will be no more journal entries.
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