España!

This past Friday was Moroccan Independence Day. While this is obviously an important day for Moroccans, I took this day of national pride as an opportunity to jump ship and head off to Spain!

My flight left Fes-Saiss International Airport at 11:55 AM. Naturally, I planned everything out so that I would be well ahead of time (in case the taxi didn’t show/weather was bad/we hit a sheep/etc). So of course I arrive there at 8:30 AM no troubles whatsoever (only the beginning of my near-miraculous timing this weekend). First object of note about this airport: it was the smallest airport I have ever seen. 4 gates, one runway. Security and customs and passport checks were all in the same small room. Second object of note: when I went to check in at 8:45 AM, I was told by the staff at the desk “we are Arab here! You’re checking in too early. Come back in an hour and twenty minutes.” Choking back laughter, I went to watch last night’s soccer in the café for an hour and 15 minutes. Of course, when I go back down…there is no one at the counter. In fact, no one even bothers to begin checking people in until 10:10…about an hour before the flight began to board. Last object of note: flying Ryan Air is a really interesting experience. It’s just like every other airline—except the seats don’t recline, everything is painted an eye-piercing yellow and blue, and the ‘flight attendants’ announce every 15 minutes a new crazy super awesome special deal that I just MUST buy on the spot. It’s like being trapped in an infomercial, the content of which changes on a whim. Also, there were a disturbingly large number of crying babies on my flight—I was literally surrounded by wailing children—so it was a good thing that I was tired, and thus slept for most of the flight!

I landed in Girona 5 minutes late (but, of course, the Ryan Air crew played their customary “congratulations for another on-time flight” jingle), and yet I still managed to make the very first bus into Barcelona. This bus left 15 minutes after my original arrival time…meaning I got off the plane, made it through customs, withdrew money, went to the bathroom, and bought bus tickets…in under 10 minutes. I am a pro. Or security in Spain is silly. Your choice! I was originally going to meet Elizabeth at the bus station; however, we both thought that I wouldn’t make the early bus, so she was planning on meeting me 2 hours later than I would now arrive. Again, in a minor miracle, the bus had free internet; I sent her a quick email…and immediately after successfully sending the message, discovered that the bus internet had crashed! The lucky streak continues.

So Elizabeth picked me up at the station, and we walked back to our hostel together. We passed the Arc de Triomf, a large arch built for a world exhibition in Barcelona in 1888, on the way there. The hostel in question was located on an obscure side street/pathway near Las Ramblas, the main tourist street in Barcelona. This turned out to be an absolutely fantastic location—it was close by to everything we saw that weekend, and there were shops and restaurants everywhere. Also, the difference between Spanish and Moroccan cities is truly a breath of fresh air; streets are open, well-lit, clean (besides lots of cigarette smoke), and full of people wandering through restaurants and stores. I immediately felt comfortable here—this weekend was really a short taste of Western culture again, after being submerged in Arab life for months! In any case, by the time we arrived at the hostel, I was starving…I hadn’t eaten much of anything thanks to travel. To my surprise, Elizabeth had a delicious candle-lit snack of cheese, bread, grapes, and wine waiting for me!

the Arc de Triomf

Elizabeth's candle-lit snack, including bread, Brie cheese, wine,
grapes, a half-eaten Deli Sandwich, and a Mars Bar.

A street near our hostel: open, clean, and full of people!

That night, we went on a long walk down las Ramblas. We first stopped at a large outdoor market--which was filled with FRUITS AND VEGETABLES. I had to have a fruit smoothie. Then, we saw a large square that was filled with Spanish protesters at the time (they had elections this past Sunday), and then Elizabeth took me to Corte Ingles, a 9 floor superstore across from the square. The things you take for granted in the states…as ridiculous as it sounds, I had a blast meandering through floors of overpriced clothes, gizmos and gadgets, and an entire floor of shoes. After our walk, we went in search of a dinner restaurant—I was still hungry, so we forwent traditional Spanish tapas in favor of some good old Italian food. Elizabeth had some kind of pasta (crazy delicious) and I had the first chicken Caesar salad that I have seen in over 3 months. The waiter also served us complimentary champagne, and I had a good laugh thinking about how ridiculous that would have been in Morocco.

look at all of that fruit. LOOK AT IT.

Spanish protesters. These guys ended up sweeping the elections on Sunday.

Saturday: a super busy day for us! The weather forecast was dreary, so we started early to hopefully beat the rain in our search of all things Antonio Gaudi. First, we visited Park Güell, a park designed and built by Barcelona’s master architect. Getting there was somewhat of a challenge…the metro took us close to the park, but the entrance itself was up a rather large hill. However, the climb was totally worth it—the park was really something else. The whole park is full of colors and murals, wavy lines and general artistic creativity. The park sports an entrance designed to look like the opening of Heaven; a cool looking Salamander; and the longest bench in the world. From the top, we got a great view of Barcelona, along with some cool pictures. Then it was time to head back down the huge hill (much better this direction) headed towards what is Gaudi’s most famous work, la Sagrada Familia. La Sagrada Familia is an enormous, unfinished church right in the center of Barcelona—construction began in 1882, and was nowhere near finished when Gaudi died in 1926 (he was actually hit by a moving vehicle of some kind…because he was wearing his typically plain and dirty clothing, no one recognized him as Barcelona’s most famous artist until it was too late to save him). The church is projected to be finished near 2030. However, the inside of the church was finished just recently, and was dedicated in 2010—while Elizabeth and I were originally hesitant to wait for 30 minutes to get inside, we were immensely grateful that we had once we got inside! This cathedral is easily on the level of the Hassan the 2nd mosque in Casablanca in terms of sheer beauty and architectural genius. And Gaudi’s traditional style is unmistakable—bright, colorful stained glass, complex arching designs, and an imposing figure of Christ over the altar make this church a must see for anyone going to Barcelona.

The entrance of Heaven in Park Guell

Elizabeth with the awesome Salamander

a small part of the longest bench in the world, Gaudi-style

Outside La Sagrada Familia

Inside La Sagrada Familia

At this point, the weather was beginning to turn; however, thanks to the aforementioned lucky streak, most of our outside adventuring was done for the day! We headed back to las Ramblas for lunch in a small Spanish café to let the worst of the rain pass, and then headed out for the last main stop of our day: Casa Batlló. This is another truly extraordinary house designed and constructed by Gaudi, perhaps a 30 minute walk from our hostel. I can’t possibly describe this house in its full glory here—let it suffice to say that Elizabeth and I spent nearly 2 ½ hours listening to the guided tour, taking pictures, and perusing the gift shop. Some of the most noticeable features of the house include; furniture handcrafted by Gaudi himself, with incredible ergonomic designs (the handrails, door knobs, window vents, etc, all fit like a glove into my hand); the “light well” a 5 story vent right in the center of the house which filters natural light throughout the building; incredible room designs centered around an aquatic theme (apparently, Gaudi sought to build a house with no straight lines…even the doors and windows are bowed like waves or ripples in a pond); and a rooftop terrace with artistic chimney stacks and a giant reproduction of a dragon. At this point in time, it was really raining outside…but we spent plenty of time on the roof taking pictures anyways!!

A light fixture in Casa Batllo--almost all of the rooms were decorated
with similarly intricate/flowing designs

One of the doors in the house--again, almost all of the
woodwork sported similarly distinct shaping

The light well viewed from the top

Casa Batllo at night

Elizabeth and I getting soaked next to Gaudi's Dragon

By this time, it was nearly 7pm; we walked back to the hostel in the rain to relax for a while before going to eat dinner (Spanish people eat just as late as Moroccans, apparently). This time around, I wanted to try authentic Spanish tapas; so we went to a Tapas bar (there was a television with an FC Barcelona game on, but Elizabeth cunningly sat us far away from the television…lame). We sampled a fried chicken dish, a cold fish dish, and a meatball dish…all of which were delicious (though I think the fish were my favorite). Additionally, I got to try Sangria for the first time (if you don’t know, Sangria is a wine based drink that has been left to sit with cut fruit for a day, along with rum); absolutely delicious. Also, both Friday and Saturday evening ended with tasty Spanish gelato.

Spanish tapas

Sangria. I drank half a liter, which ended up being a
lot less alcohol than I originally anticipated.

And on Sunday, it was time to go home! We left with plenty of time to drop me at the bus station, to catch the only bus headed to the airport in time for my flight. We arrived 15 minutes early…only to discover that there was ONE SEAT REMAINING on the bus. Lucky streak: maxed out. After rushed goodbyes, I quickly jumped on the bus and was headed back to Morocco before I knew it!

I had an absolutely amazing time in Spain, and I can’t believe that I only have a month left in the Middle East before I head home again. And after seeing Spain, I think that I’m ready to be home as well. I’m sure that the time will fly by!

SPANISH word of the day: relajado (relaxed, because this weekend was easily the most relaxing weekend of my semester!)

Eid al-Adha Break

The last few days have been pretty busy for me—I’m actually watching a film during class right now, and the only reason I’m writing this blog post (as opposed to ignoring the movie to work on other homework) is because Al Akhawayn has seen it fit to block their wireless internet! Welcome to Morocco…

IN ANY CASE. This blog post is about my travels during Eid al-Ahda, the second major Muslim holiday that I have experienced. This was also the last major break from school at Al-Akhawayn, so I tried to make the most of my time! William, Chris and I left school Thursday night (skipping Friday Arabic class…what rebels) for Casablanca. We got there at 11 PM, and we needed to get up extremely early the next morning to pick up William’s parents from the airport. To our great surprise (and fortune), we found a KFC (er, كنتاكي دجاج) a few blocks from our hotel—while this particular KFC had to have the least disciplined staff of all time, the food was delicious. We ate, and crashed.

Friday, we grabbed William’s parents (Diane and John) from the airport. They brought him an entire suitcase of Dr. Pepper (pictures below). Coolest. Parents. Ever. But by the time we got back to the hotel, everyone was pretty tired. We walked around a large mall in a nearby tower complex, and then took a 1 hour…2 hour…3 hour nap. After spending some time planning out the following day, we spent a solid hour attempting to get to Ricks Café (a recreation of the famous restaurant in the movie Casablanca); we walked, because Casablanca cab drivers charged outrageous rates. That being said…Ricks was wonderful. I should have gotten the T-bone…I got lamb instead, which was also delicious, but now I’m still jonesing for a good old American steak!

William with his girly suitcase full of Dr. Pepper.

Saturday, we saw the only other really interesting thing in Casablanca—the Hassan 2^nd Mosque. It was absolutely incredible, and well worth the trip. The minaret at this mosque is the tallest in the world, and the rest of the mosque was designed to be just as impressive. The mosque plus the courtyard surrounding it can accommodate 105,000 worshippers---and the roof inside the mosque OPENS. IT OPENS. In case you can’t tell, I really, really enjoyed the time we spent there—and I was sure to take tons of pictures. After the mosque, we hopped on a train (a very, very crowded train) to Rabat. After eating lunch, we spent some time walking through the Chellah, the site of an ancient Roman city (similar to Volubilis). It was full of Storks (among the ancient relics, of course), and it was a relaxing way to spend the afternoon. Afterwards, we ate at Pizza Hut for dinner; then, I left William, Chris, and family and met up with my roommate Marouane. I stayed at his house from Sunday to Wednesday!

Inside the Hassan the 2nd Mosque (the detailing here is really incredible)

The roof (you can see the split in the Middle where it opens)

A fountain in the ablution room (most of the basement of the Mosque)

Outside the Mosque. It sits right against the Atlantic Ocean, in a huge courtyard.

A Haverford-esque path in the Chellah.

Staying with a Moroccan family during Eid al-Adha was a really unique experience. That night, I met everyone in his immediate family, and we sat down for dinner (AFTER I had eaten pizza hut…whoops). Marouane is the only member of his family who speaks English—so for the first evening, everyone jabbered in super fast darija at me, and I was really confused! But as it turns out, Marouane’s dad spoke broken Spanish as well, so when I really couldn’t understand something in Arabic he could help explain it to me in Arabish. Over the next few days, I got to witness the slaughtering of a sheep (rather violent, and certainly not something I will choose to watch again), eat incredible amounts of meat (lamb for every meal, every day), and in general speak in Arabic with friends and family. It was definitely overwhelming—every evening I was pretty tired, because even basic conversations were difficult for me—but it was a necessary experience. Some other highlights: going to a traditional hammam (which I actually enjoyed); exploring the rest of Rabat, which included a visit to the mausoleum of Mohammed the 5^th and Hassan the 2^nd, shopping, and a trip to the old medina; eating various body parts of the sheep, like liver/heart/brains (I enjoyed this far less); getting to eat with my hands from one giant plate (this was fun, but surprisingly difficult at first…you can only use the first three fingers of your right hand); being told constantly “Kul! Kul!” (which means eat J ); having Marouane’s father read my fledgling Arabic essay and help me edit it; and relaxing in general! By the time Wednesday morning rolled around, I was ready to go back to school, but I had also really enjoyed the time I spent in Temara (his neighborhood).  His family drove back to Al Akhawayn with us (we stopped multiple times to buy pomegranate on the side of the road), and I had one final dinner with them at an apartment they rented for that night. Hopefully Marouane will be able to visit the United States, so I can show him the same warm hospitality that his family showed to me!

Me eating from a traditional Moroccan plate of lamb

Absolutely delicious Kebabs...guess what is in the middle (which I didn't eat)

Tomb of Mohammed the 5th

Bet you can guess where this went...

Ok, that’s all for this post. Soon to come: my trip to Barcelona!

Word of the day: ضحى (to sacrifice: Marouane’s father was very adamant that they did not ‘kill’ the sheep, but rather sacrificed it)

J Matthew

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!