Trip to the Tafilalt Oasis

Happy (almost) Halloween! I’m typing in the van on our final leg home from the Tafilalt region, an oasis near the beginnings of the Sahara Desert—I had an absolutely incredible weekend, and have so much to tell everyone! This is a marathon post…get comfortable!

To begin; the Tafilalt region is a huge oasis; it’s the second largest in Africa (behind the Nile Valley). Some general info about oases; contrary to popular belief, they are not naturally occurring and miraculous areas found sporadically throughout the desert. Every oasis is entirely man-made, and requires intensive labor to create and maintain. The productive soil that you might find on a farm in Kansas doesn’t exist in the Sahara desert, so it must be made with the addition of nutrients and biomass. And of course, water is scarce—so it must be brought in through extensive irrigation systems. Yet despite these difficulties, oasis agriculture is the most productive of any farming method in the world; if done correctly, one can grow multiple crops year-round while simultaneously renewing the soil. 

A panorama of the Tafilalt Oasis--it stretches for at least an hours drive, if not longer.

Our group left Al-Akhawayn at 2 on Friday afternoon, and got into the Tafilalet Hotel in Erfoud at around 8:30PM, so we didn’t see much of the oasis on the way in (it gets dark around 5:30 now). The scenery on the way, however, was absolutely gorgeous—it looked a lot like Jackson Hole, Wyoming! Saturday, however, was full of stops. First, Professors Shoup and Ross took us to the remnants of an underground irrigation system. These tunnels (again, entirely man made) ran from the foothills of a mountain range dozens of miles away to the oasis, and back out again (you also have to drain water from an oasis, otherwise the area will turn into a salt plain as a result of the high salt content of the water in the region). The tunnels ran perhaps 5-8 meters below ground—slaves were forced to dig out these channels and maintain them, literally back-breaking work. But because they are below ground there is far less water evaporation, making these channels an efficient transport mechanism (better than even the Roman aqueduct). The oasis is also fed by water diverted from the Ziz and Ris rivers. However, due to serious flooding these rivers were dammed in the 1960s; while this provides the region with a steady supply of drinking water, the lack of flood water has starved the region’s water table and thus strained the oasis system. In case you haven’t noticed, water is an extremely important concern here; in fact, every family that owns land in the oasis also owns water rights (i.e. the right to have water let out from the dams to your specific plot). There is one man in each sector of the oasis who memorizes the exact number of hours that a family is allotted per year; thus, one’s livelihood in the oasis is literally measured in hours. And of course there are disputes between families and with the government about who gets water when. At this stop we also learned that Morocco is the site of many a Hollywood movie (when you can’t film in Egypt/Syria/Saudi Arabia, Morocco seems like a friendly substitute); we saw a mountain range used in “The Mummy”, a palace used for the movie “Sahara”, and drove near the starting gates of the famous Ocean of Fire race in “Hidalgo”, among others. (picture of tunnel + picture of tunnel + mountain).

One of the tunnel entrances--this one was abandoned when the state installed new irrigation systems.

The tunnel stretches all the way to those distant mountains, marked by a row of holes.

The mountain to my right was used in The Mummy!

From here, we made the quick drive to a nearby oasis village. The village was surrounded by a large protective wall (to ward off raiders) made by the ram-pack method; dirt and straw are mixed with a little bit of water, placed into molds, and then rammed repeatedly with large poles to compact the material into a firm building material. This material must then be plastered over with more dirt (it erodes quickly)—if properly maintained, these walls can last up to 150 years. Villagers also used the more commonly known adobe bricks to fashion the upper sections, though this is a far less sturdy building material than rammed earth. We learned that the villages in this region are among the most conservative communities in Morocco—we did not see any women (unless they were trying to duck inside houses), and certainly no women who were not fully covered. Water issues also play into gender roles in the village—because the government run water fountain was situated outside the village, little girls are traditionally the ones assigned to go fetch water (the boys aren’t trusted to do the job right). Because it takes hours to fill up the water buckets necessary for the family, this means that girls must skip school on a regular basis, resulting in a nearly 90% illiteracy rate among females in the village. And next to the village, we saw one of the many dams/irrigation channels that the government has recently build; unfortunately, due to relatively poor planning and coordination with the locals, these irrigation channels have actually done more harm than good.

The large wall surrounding the village (which was falling apart)

Next stop: قصر الفيضة, a palace built by prince Moulay abd al-Rahman during his rule near the beginning of the Alawi dynasty (which still rules Morocco today, under King Mohammed the 6^th). The building was used as the house of the governor during the French occupation of Morocco; while the inner sections have been restored into a museum, the curators and their families were not evicted, and still live there today. This might seem odd; however, the curators are actually descendents of the prince’s (and then the governor’s) slaves. These slaves were treated relatively well by their masters in that they did not have to do manual field labor, but instead performed duties and chores at the palace; they were thus exceptionally loyal to the Alawi dynasty as they showed us around! After our tour we were served tea by the eldest of the curators (Moroccan hospitality at its finest), and were then on our way to another palace built by abd al-Rahman. This one, however, was in total ruins—a crew was working to restore it, but the differences in care were striking.

Artistic doorway at the first, restored palace.

The equivalent doorway at the second palace (a wall collapsed here a few months ago...)

Then, we hit the hotel for lunch; a delicious beef tagine made with a specialty vegetable called quint; you can’t eat it raw, but when cooked it tastes exactly like a baked apple. Hope I find another one! From here, we headed out for our evenings activities. First, we stopped by a fossil museum; as it turns out, the Tafilalt region is rich in fossil deposits, especially Trilobites (at one point, the region that is now Morocco was underwater). Next we stopped by the souk in Rissani; Professor Shoup showed me where to find quality Moroccan dates (which are the pride and joy of the Tafilalt region); I hadn’t had a date before now! I liked it, but it’s an acquired taste…nothing like any fruit that I’ve ever eaten before (technically, it’s a grass plant…). But these two stops paled in comparison to the evening’s real activity: a visit to the Sufi Zawiyat Sidi al-Ghazi. Sufism is a branch of Islam that is taken a lot of criticism in the Arab world; some consider their religious practices to be shirk (which means association, the idea that one might have powers similar to those of Allah) and thus illegitimate. But the sect is on the rise, and is thus an important aspect of Islamic culture here in Morocco. We had a 4 hour program with them, involving recitation from the Koran, religious songs (think of an impromptu, religious version of a capella singing), and a humongous meal of fried chicken, fries, and couscous. I really ate like a king this weekend! In any case, it was an incredible experience. The people at the Zawiyat were more than friendly, and were entirely non-judgmental; if every American were to see this side of Islam, I suspect that our collective opinion about the Middle East would be very different. (Side note: I attempted to ask one of the members “how many brothers are there in this house”, and he answered eight. I was surprised—there were more than eight brothers in the room at the time—so I said “only eight?” to which he and everyone else burst out laughing. He thought that I meant REAL brothers…and he had eight! So now I know that the word for Sufi brother is not “brother” but rather “محبين”). We left the Zawiyat and returned to the hotel around midnight.

T-Rex. Obviously.

محبين at the Zawiyat. In this picture, they are singing a traditional Islamic song about what heaven is like. 

So after a packed Saturday, a long sleep in on Sunday…was not in the game plan. We got up at 4AM the next morning, to head out to Merzouga dunes and watch the sun rise. To start, I can’t even begin to describe the stars here—because there was literally no light pollution in the area, the view was unlike anything I’ve seen before. I could clearly see the haze that is the Milky Way galaxy, and more stars than any American city dweller would ever see—it was a really humbling experience. And the drive over to the dunes in our escort SUVs was surreal; the rocky and barren desert landscape combined with the pitch black of night made it feel like we were on the moon in dune buggies! There was no actual road—we just drove wherever the driver wanted, across the desert and to the beginning of the sand dunes, where we were met by our camels (which were actually not that smelly/terrible after all). We rode out a little ways (not far at all), and then climbed up to the top of some dunes to watch the sun rise. The combination of the stars and the sunrise was one of the most beautiful things that I have ever seen. And I have TONS of photographs from the dunes! And sand…lots of sand. I’m still finding sand, even after my shower. Sand sand sand.

Just before sunrise. It was still a little cold at this time--the stars were just disappearing.

Dying of thirst and exhausting (from laughing)

These guys kept following us. 

One of the small camel trains. They were taller than I thought!

And we’ve been on the way home since then! We stopped for lunch at Kasbah Asmae: I had another delicious tagine and Moroccan salad (FINALLY SOME YUMMY COOL AND FRESH VEGETABLES), and am still completely stuffed 3 hours later. Totally worth it. That’s all for now—If you made it through this whole post, I’m really impressed. I’ve totally forgotten what I wrote two pages ago…

Miss you all—enjoy the photos!

Words of the Day: جمل (camel), رمل (sand), and نجوم (stars)

Stomach bugs, The coolest midterm ever, and romantic rendezvous

Hello again! I have been quite busy these last few weeks (midterms week here actually required some serious effort), so this post covers my last two weeks.

So Friday the 15th, I woke up feeling rather terrible. I originally blamed my discomfort on the mass quantity of sugars and sweets I had consumed the night previous (thanks for the care package mom!)--wishful thinking, I know. As it turns out, this was my first experience with the general lack of food hygiene here in Morocco. I still don't know what I ate/drank/touched, but my stomach was not pleased! But of course I went to my one 50 minute class on Friday (what an idiot), and then crashed for the rest of the day/most of Saturday. Fortunately I felt well enough to move around Sunday; I had a midterm in Meknes!

Sunday morning at 8:30AM my Arab Society class left Al-Akhawayn, headed for the old medina in Meknes. Our assignment was rather daunting: find a functioning, traditional Arab neighborhood. We had spent approximately 2 weeks in class discussing exactly what a 'traditional' Arab neighborhood meant--and it is absolutely nothing like any neighborhood you would find in the U.S. So I was nervous when our Professor walked us to the main square in Meknes and said "meet you back here at 2!". But as it turns out, our trip was one of the best adventures I've been on in Morocco thus far. After wandering through souks and alleys for 30 minutes, we stumbled upon درب التوتة (neighborhood Toota), which was actually marked with painted signs on the walls. We saw the traditional neighborhood fountain (سقاية), oven (فرن), hammam (حمام), market (سوق), and mosque (مسجد), and had a great time asking people questions about where they lived (though Kheirdene, the Moroccan in our group, did most of the asking because no one else really had the proficiency in Arabic to obtain the information we needed). I know that my darija is improving--while I couldn't have asked the right questions, I did understand some of the answers people gave us! We even got invited to spend time at a shopkeepers house, which was absolutely gorgeous. I wish I had taken lots of pictures (though snapping some shots of some family house seemed slightly inappropriate). There's way more to talk about here, so if anyone is interested leave a comment and I'll describe more.

Last but certainly not least is my trip to Tangiers! This past Friday William, Andrew, Chris and I took a trip to Northern Morocco to meet up with Elizabeth and her friend Adriana in Tangiers--despite leaving one hour and forty five minutes to get to the train station for a journey that usually takes just under an hour, we made the train with seconds to spare (and boy was I relieved)! It was a great trip, though it was definitely more lazy than our previous excursions. We spent Saturday morning/afternoon walking around the old medina (read: I got us lost for an hour), looking at relics in the Casbah Museum, and shopping, and then spent the rest of the day drinking tea, watching soccer, eating, and relaxing in the hotel. This involved copious amounts of Spanish chocolate (thanks Elizabeth!). I also got to see Spain! Pictures below (and plenty of others on facebook):

Word of the Week(s): مجوهرات = jewelry (I bet you can guess why that's a word of the week!)

Trip to the North!

Hello everyone! I hope that all of my fellow Fords are having an easy time with midterms--because I'm spending my time traveling! This past weekend I joined a school-sponsored trip to various locales in Northern Morocco. Our trip began at 3AM Saturday morning (I only got 2 hours of sleep in bed that night); we took three vans up to Chefchaouen, where we ate at around 8AM. The whole city is painted a bright blue (my Facebook picture is in Chefchaouen). Then we headed up to Akchour, a region a little farther North, along some seriously winding roads. But it was totally worth the ride/headache/sleep depravity, because it was absolutely gorgeous. We spent all day hiking up a river bed, and ate lunch under an ancient land bridge (picture below). Some people even went swimming in the cold stream water (I didn't have swim trunks...wish they'd told me that I would need them)! That night, I ate dinner in Tetouan with a bunch of Moroccan students that went on the trip. We discussed school (they couldn't agree on whether the English, French, or Moroccan education system was the best), and we also had an interesting discussion about Moroccan hospitality. I learned a good deal about Morocco's Parliament as well (one girl's father was a Parliamentarian)--most people are apparently just as displeased with their government as U.S. citizens are! The next day, we drove 20 minutes from Tetouan to the Mediterranean shore--absolutely gorgeous! We ate lunch at a beach-side restaurant (and to our surprise, all the fish/shrimp still had heads!!!). The rest of the day was spent driving home; a boring car ride became rather eventful when the Moroccan national soccer team won an important game, which we learned when we ran into a giant street mob celebrating. We got back at 11pm--and I've been busy catching up on work since then!

And a cultural note: I learned in my colloquial Arabic class today the phrase ما شاء اللة, the literal translation of which is "whatever god wills." While this phrase is commonly used to express gratitude or thankfulness, a friend happened to see the phrase written on a passing car. Our teacher told us that people here have bumper stickers/signs/etc with this phrase, because it serves as a reminder to Muslims to avoid covetous or jealous thoughts ("it wards away the evil eye" was his original explanation...warranted additional details). The Hand of Fatima also holds a similar meaning, which is why so many Arab women can be found wearing it on necklaces or bracelets!

Arabic Word of the Week: مغرفة : a scoop of ice cream! Can't believe I hadn't learned this earlier.
Miss you all tons--be sure to get in touch with me if you want me to talk about anything in particular!!

The End of My Long Blog Hiatus!

Hello again--I've not posted in awhile, in part because I haven't really traveled anywhere as of late! This post is full of some random observations over the past two weeks, from culture to politics to academics to just plain fun. Its also rather long...get reading already!

To begin, my routine interactions with Moroccan students are full of things that you just won't find in the United States. To begin, Moroccan hospitality is very apparent, especially when it comes to offering food. My roommate is particularly noteworthy in this respect. Marouane always offers me food (even if I've literally just come from dinner); most of the time I accept, but if I decline he will continue offering food until I either cave and accept (the majority of these interactions end this way), or convince him that I'm really not hungry/don't need food. And when people say "no thank you" here, they really mean it--they put their hands to their hearts and graciously decline, even if it's only a single Chips Ahoy Cookie that they've just passed up (I see this basically every day). And on the times that I do accept and thank the person, they almost inevitably reply بالصحة (literally, 'with health'). There is a further response that one is supposed to give to this phrase, but I have yet to master it (in one ear, out the other sometimes...). I have yet to visit a Moroccan family, but I know that when I do, I am going to be bombarded with food/attention. I'll be sure to skip lunch that day! Also, my Colloquial Moroccan Arabic class is proving exceptionally useful with regard to Moroccan culture--we spend 30 minutes each class period discussing some new aspect of life in Morocco, from family life, to the organization of male and female space, to common superstitions (don't pour hot water down the toilet, or a jin will come out!!). I'm learning about Moroccan tea next week (which is unbelievably good, mind you)--we'll be having tea in class after our quiz!

As for the academic side of things, I am beginning to notice improvements in my Arabic comprehension and speaking skills (الحمد اللة). First, whenever a professor references an Arabic concept or an Arabic word, I find myself increasingly unable to transliterate the word into English script because I keep impulsively writing the Arabic characters. While this doesn't mean I'm necessarily any better at Arabic, it does mean that I'm beginning to think in that reference frame more often--definitely a good sign! Also, for all of those taking Arabic; the roots are beginning to make sense now! At first I thought that the Arabic three-letter root system was kind of silly; however,  knowing the roots is paying off. I am beginning to guess new vocabulary words correctly by quickly analyzing the root, and its helping me make connections between Darija and MSA Arabic that I wouldn't have understood otherwise. Now I just need to start making the connections between words and their patterns, and I'll be in business.

I've also had the chance to participate in two interesting academic lectures. The first was a discussion about the 'new' model for Islamic schooling here in Morocco (which is now mandatory). It was interesting to hear the man's perspective on Islamic teachings (he had gone through the system, and is now an Islamic scholar himself). The presentation and questions also highlighted gender issues with Islamic teachings--women are permitted to attend schools and become scholars, but they A) sit separately from the men (one woman mentioned that there used to be a physical wall separating men and women, though that no longer holds true), and B) they cannot become Imams (prayer leaders), as that role is reserved exclusively for men. So while female scholars could teach upcoming students and potential Imams (in fact, the renowned head of faculty at Egypt's Al-Azhar mosque is female, and considered one of the premier scholars of her era), they could not ever lead prayer themselves. The second event I watched was a guest speaker named Tariq Ramadan, who came to campus this week. He spoke about 'the perceived clash of civilizations' as per Huntington, and what we ought to do to combat that notion. Dr. Ramadan is a major figure in the Arab world, and some of his positions tend to irk more conservative Islamic factions of Middle Eastern society (in fact, Al-Akhawayn had prevented him from coming multiple years previous to this appearance); hearing him speak and watching the student's reactions was thus a really interesting experience!

Last but not least: I spent this weekend playing paintball. In Morocco. That's right. It was awesome. And my team won! Mainly because everyone on my team besides me was in one of the three U.S. military academies--but really, it was all me. Go Haverpoint Springs Quarrelsome Sheep! There are some pictures on facebook if you're interested...if not...well ok fine. While this sounds like a purely American activity (apparently, the American exchange students always win), we actually witnessed two aspects of Moroccan culture. First, the event started over 2 hours behind time...punctuality does not exist here in the way that it does in the States. People take their time, make small talk, engage in pleasantries, and generally show up whenever they feel like it. They aren't being rude--its just how things work here outside of classes (and I showed up early...Oops). Second, after one of the rounds an argument boiled over into a fist fight. This is not to say that Moroccans are inherently combative or violent (that would be absurd), but arguments and 'confrontations' (in the Haverfordian sense) are extremely common here. The vast majority of these end peacefully, with some kind of mutual understanding reached, but every once and awhile that fails. We don't really know everything that was said between the two parties, because they were speaking in Darija, and I am extremely curious as to what exactly happened. I suppose that this isn't entirely different from the States (Americans clearly have their fights too), but the context surrounding confrontations here is somehow different, and I haven't quite put my finger on it yet.

Hopefully I'll be traveling to some cool places in the next couple weeks, and I'll be able to post some more exciting pictures! Until then, happy readings!