I came home from Morocco fifteen months ago. This seems a bit of a bookend to me because I also spent about fifteen months before Morocco in the period of my application and preparation to undertake my inquiry project and life adventure. I cannot say that my Fulbright experience ended in June 2017, because it affects so many of the things that I do currently, so many of the ways that I perceive the world. I have a wider perspective today, Morocco having shown me so many things about education, society, people, history, culture, religion, and the beauty of the world. I have grown in my personal capabilities, my comfort with doing things alone, speaking to large audiences, and saying “yes” to possibility. My thinking is richer and deeper, and the doctoral program I began on return, concentrating on second-language literacy, is progressing well. I continue to have wonderful friendships with a number of people that I met in Morocco that have truly enriched me. When I began this blog, I felt I was “on the cusp of an adventure, not at all sure how this will work out, but confident it will be something special”, and I invited readers to come along with me as I documented “whatever Morocco brings me”. I shot over 9000 photographs, and I bet I could tell a story with nearly each and every one of them. Here then— in no particular order— are a dozen impressions that stick with me from my Moroccan adventure. 1. Great Teachers: I initially used my Fulbright network to meet teachers in various cities in Morocco and secure invitations to visit a lot of schools. Those connections in turn introduced me to a number of other teachers and administrators, and all together, I logged about 70 hours of classroom observation in twelve different middle and high schools, plus ten university courses. I spent many hours of additional conversation with a number of teachers who really, really impressed me with their dedication, creativity, concern, and professionalism. I attended a conference of Moroccan Association of Teachers of English and was struck by— even though the educational system is vastly different from that of the US— how many concerns we share concerning the changes that technology and the internet are creating in the processes of reading, writing, teaching, and evaluating learning. Adil, Madiha, Ghislane, Hicham— you were all really inspirational! So hard-working, creative, connected with and to your students— I am honored to have spent time with you and learned from the magic that you create! 2. HAMMAMS: Hammams are public baths, separated of course by gender, where you can get cleaner than you can imagine. You can also go to private hammams, and you can hire a person who works there to scrub you clean. They are a vital historical and present day part of Moroccan life. There is one on the basement floor of the huge modern mosque in Casablanca (pictured above). While I was never confident enough to go to a public hammam, I did treat myself to several as part of a “spa” day when I went to a salon for hair care and massage. The feeling of totally-clean, totally-exfoliated, baby-soft skin was just magical! It’s partly even a religious experience; I went once during Lent on Maundy Thursday, when Christians celebrate Jesus’ washing of the his disciples feet, and the rough scouring and power of ritual and physical cleansing was actually very moving. You may remember that I had quite a difficult time getting hot water in my apartment for much of my stay; particularly in the winter, the hammam was a delightful treat of plentiful hot water! I bought some “ghasouhl,” a rough bathing glove, and some other products to try to recreate the experience here at home, but sadly it just isn’t the same. 3. Meeting Mr. Right: Here’s a story that I find myself telling to somewhat astonished students in the US: I know two wonderful, independent, beautiful professional women in Morocco who each met the man she married when she was riding on a train. Both women had had multiple opportunities for marriage beforehand, but met a wonderful man while on a train, got to know him over a period of just a few weeks through serious conversation, and then were married in very short order. And I also know a very happy couple who were married because their families arranged it, and they didn’t really get to know one another until after the ceremony. The Islamic traditions that preclude “dating” in the sense that Americans do it were interesting to me, and I was grateful that these women shared their love stories with me! 4. Music: There was a lot of music that I didn’t expect and really enjoyed. The Mohammed V Theater, sometimes in conjunction with many of the embassies in Rabat, featured some wonderful musicians, and the ticket prices were incredibly reasonable. I heard great jazz, Spanish flamenco and zarzuela, and a French vocalist there; in the desert, I heard the music of the Black Moroccans of the Group Zaid, Les Pigeons de Sable; there was contemporary Berber music first encountered on the CD of our Fez/El Rachida/Marrakesh driver; the Mazawine festival brought all kinds of world musicians to Rabat for two weeks of free concerts, where we saw African hip-hop and Spanish jazz (American stars come too— could have seen Bruno Mars if I’d been there this past summer!). 5. Inshallah: Inshallah means “God willing” in Arabic. People say it to mean a number of things. First, it could actually mean: this will happen if Allah permits it, as in “We will see each other again soon”/ “Inshallah!” Often times though, it can mean “possibly” as in, “I will meet you here tomorrow at 2 pm.”/“Inshallah” and you really don’t know if that person is going to show up or not. Sometimes it’s kind of discouraging: “This situation is only going to get better when….”/“Inshallah”. Finally, this is the language teacher joke that I made up, and it actually got a good many Moroccan laughs: How do you form the future tense in Arabic? Take any sentence and add “inshallah” at the end. 6. Learning Arabic: I did not go to Morocco intending to learn Arabic. I honestly thought I was going to get along pretty well in French. I quickly learned that everyone, no matter how many languages they can use fluently, speaks Moroccan Arabic as their default language. I realized that if I wanted to participate in normal everyday situations I’d have to learn Darija (Moroccan Arabic). I had a great private tutor. We spent hours weekly. I made ridiculously little progress. My throat and tongue muscles just had the hardest time with many of the sounds. Once Adil told me that the vowel was exactly the sound that a sheep makes, and I told him that sheep don’t make that sound in the US! Darija isn’t a written language (except that people sure have figured out how to text and participate in social media using it!!), and so I also tried to learn the standard Arabic alphabet. Each letter in Arabic is written in cursive, but has three forms (word-initial, word-medial, and word-end), and vowels are often unwritten. Here is a measure of how badly I did with that: one day I asked Adil when we were going to finish the alphabet, get to the other letters. He looked at me as if I were a bit daft and told me that we had already completed them. But when I looked at signs written in Arabic, I could not decipher any letters that I actually knew. It was surely a humbling and important lesson for a veteran language teacher to learn. 7. Speaking of languages, French: One of the first things that I marveled about was when I heard students speaking in French— their accents were terrific, and their French in many cases was more proficient than mine. I struggled some, particularly in the beginning, with saying everything I needed or wanted to say in French, and I looked forward to improving my own French proficiency and accent while there. I did two things in particular: I purchased a new satelite dish for my apartment building rooftop that could be aimed in the direction of Europe— the original dish was pointed in the direction of the Middle East and received 650 stations broadcasting in Arabic. Sadly, I know this because I counted one day. It was a party-dish though, so I couldn’t have it adjusted. Once I bought the new one though, I filled the afternoons and evenings I was home with French broadcasts— game shows, news/talk shows in the run-up to the French Presidential election. I liked Emmanuel Macron for no other reason that when he spoke, he made an effort to use both the masculine and feminine forms of as many nouns as he could: “Français et Françaises,” “citoyens et citoyennes,””travailleurs et travailleuses”. I also contracted the services of Rita, a French woman who splits her time between Strasbourg and Rabat, and who spent time with me discussing the artistic community in Morocco and current events and sociocultural and educational trends in France and Morocco. Sometimes we chatted over a meal. It was always both a challenge and a pleasure for me, and she gave me some wonderful tips on executing a more French manner of speech. Also, she gave me a nice jacket that is perfect in Maryland fall weather! 8.Henna: I always felt special and welcomed when people offered to henna my hands! The first time was when we stopped at the home of our driver Mohammed in a desert town, and his mother invited us in for tea. Though she and I could not speak the same language, she offered to henna my hands in a traditional Berber design (above, on the left) and I was happy to have her do it (though I absolutely did not understand how long I was supposed to keep the henna on my skin to get the desired effect!). I also witnessed bridal henna— full hands and feet, and my wonderful friend Hanane treated me to a beautiful design on my hand just before my departure so that I would have a physical reminder of Morocco for weeks after my return. 9. Celebrating Passover: I know. Weird, right?: I was invited by another Fulbrighter, Rachel, to come with her to the Protestant church community she had found. Morocco is Islamic, of course, and I was told that converting to Christianity is illegal in Morocco, apparently a possible prison sentence. There are Catholic churches remnant from the time of the French Protectorate that serve Catholics from Europe and Sub-Saharan Africa who now live in Morocco. But the Protestant church was “underground” and met in what appeared to have been a single family home in a well-to-do neighborhood. There was an eclectic group of worshippers: missionaries from the US, diplomatic families, Kenyan protestants now living in Rabat, even a few native Moroccans. I went several times, but the most interesting visit was on Maundy Thursday. This is a day during Holy Week when Christians celebrate the night that Jesus and his disciples celebrated a seder Passover meal just before his execution. So, in the basement of a house in Rabat, this congregation celebrated a full seder meal, with all the appropriate kosher foods, prayers for each course said in Hebrew, and kosher wine at various ritual points in the seder celebration. That was the thing that really got me-- check out the label on the bottle in the photo above on the left! Christians celebrating a Jewish holy day, drinking a Kosher wine produced in an Islamic country where alcohol is forbidden. 10.Electronics Shopping in the Medina: One day I saw an awesome cover for a laptop at a meeting that I was attending, a fantastic geometric Islamic print. I really wanted one for my own MacBook, so I to the place where one would find them— the medina. The medina is the neighborhood within the 13th century walls of the city, narrow streets lined with shops open to the street. There is one particular street where all the electronics and electronic supplies are sold. You can find absolutely anything that you want there. It’s the Amazon of Morocco. The irony of searching for paraphenalia for my brand new American laptop in the stalls of the ancient medina did not escape me. I found a great one, a Moroccan design in a Moroccan shop, to differentiate the laptop that accompanied me everywhere in Morocco! 11. Unexpected blessing: There were only two times in my whole séjour in Morocco that I felt lonely: the rainy night of the very challenging day when I moved into own apartment, and the first weekend that I travelled to Tangier, not to work on my project, but simply as a tourist. In Tangier, I decided that in the future I would try to schedule my purely travel time for when I had someone to share it with me, and so I came to have three absolutely wonderful travel experiences with my children. Separately, each one of them came to Morocco for their 10-day spring break, and each got to visit Rabat. Additionally, each one of them got to tour some different part of Morocco with me. Alex got Fez, the Sahara and the High Atlas; Mara got Tangier and the Rif Mountains along with Casablanca; and Eric got the Atlantic beaches and coastal towns of Agadir and Essaouira, and Marrakesh. The unexpected blessing for me was that I got to have 10 days with each of my children, separately, just one-on-one. They are all such wonderful young adults, and I was delighted to find that time with them. I don’t know that it will ever happen again, and I am grateful beyond measure for those special times! 12. And last but definitely not least: How kind people are:
I was so grateful for the kindness of so many people. Whether it is a part of Islamic culture or Moroccan culture I am not sure, but I was welcomed warmly by dozens of people. I visited in many people’s homes— they showed me how to cook, or simply served me mint tea and shared their lives with me. I was invited to meet the wives and children of teachers that I met. One teacher, Hicham, was the friend of another Moroccan teacher I knew. Hicham lives in Marrakesh, and when he learned that I was looking for a school to visit, he contacted me. Eventually, I ended up staying in his family’s apartment with them for over a week, where I got to sleep in his daughter’s bunk bed and see first hand how complicated their family life with a pre-teen, an infant, one car, and a dad who teaches in three different schools in the course of a week can be. Bless his wonderful wife, also, who accepted me warmly as a guest, even though I am 100% certain that I made their complicated life even more complicated! These are photos of some of the people who shared their lives with me while I was in Morocco. They are all special gifts to me!
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Before Fulbright, I didn't have a lot of experience speaking at conferences. It was actually something that I thought was a big weakness in my application for the Distinguished Teacher Award, because they wanted a list of your previous presentations. But in the last two months, I have made formal presentations at four professional meetings in two different countries, and I think they went well. I was comfortable doing them, at least. The first was at a symposium for doctoral students from all over Morocco at a university in the coastal city of El Jadida. I was actually the keynote speaker on Friday! I shared my observations regarding the speaking ability in foreign languages of Moroccan students compared to American students, and I got a lot of valuable feedback from the attendees about the differences here of public and private schools, rural and city schools, and written and spoken language skills. This really helped me focus my further research, and a couple of the doctoral students from the conference, who are teachers by day, invited me to come to their schools and learn more.
The second conference was in Konin, Poland in the first week of May. It was entitled: Speaking in a Foreign Language: from Controlled Production to Spontaneous Conversation. As you can tell probably from that title, it was right up my alley, though I think I was the only public school teacher in attendance, and one of two Americans (three if you count the husband of one the plenary speakers). It mostly for university linguists-- and boy did I love it! It was so exciting to be back in the world of research into language-learning and applied linguistics, and it was a confirmation for me that it really is time to start my own doctoral program. At that conference, I spoke about the movement in US secondary language classes to a focus on communicative competence rather than learning vocabulary and grammar as independent entities, and on student assessment via spontaneous conversation. I made some wonderful personal connections with other attendees there, and hope to keep in touch with them and their research. The third talk was at the 24th Annual Moroccan Studies Symposium. I delivered a talk entirely about the findings of my research here, and suggested some hypotheses about the reasons for the trends I was seeing. There was a "discussant" who came to the symposium to share his professional opinions about my work. This was Youssef Nait-Belaid, a high-level administrator in the Academie in Marrakech (essentially, I think, he's a superintendent of the public school system), who holds a PhD himself from the Sorbonne, and who has been studying these issues for quite a while. He was immensely helpful to me in the pursuit of my research, and I was so humbled that he came to Rabat for the symposium. I was also so grateful to hear about the work of some of the other Fulbrighters-- like Mark Dressman whom I had not really met yet-- and whose work was in some very similar fields to my own. Again, I was inspired by the opportunity to collaborate with them both now and in the future ( incha Allah!) Finally, I gave a talk to the English teachers of the Salé school district. There were about 40 of them gathered for a professional development meeting, and I talked about both my research findings-- and congratulated them as representatives of all the Moroccan teachers whom I observed--- about the great strengths that I saw in the teaching of spoken foreign languages here. I also talked about the challenges of teaching differently now, in the age of global connectedness and social media, than the ways that might have been effective in the past. I pulled on a lot of information that I had learned by attending a fifth conference ( at which I did not speak) of the Moroccan Association of Teachers of English in March, which was called "Reforming Teacher Education and Training in Times of Change". One thing that struck me at that conference was just how similar are the challenges for teachers in all countries as we deal with the intersections of the internet, technology, and global competence requirements. Again, I was gratified that the feedback that I received in Salé was positive, that some of the teachers are interested in remaining professionally connected, and that they affirmed that I was on the right track with my observations, interpretations, and hypotheses. Had time allowed, there were two other schools where I was invited to speak to students, but the school year and my grant time just ran out before we could find dates that would work. I am quite disappointed about that. But I am ready to take my Conference Presentation Skills on the road in the USA! Everything changes in Ramadan. It's a month-long religious and cultural event, a moveable feast every year because it follows the lunar calendar. As a Christian, I am not fully participating in Ramadan, but as a resident of Morocco, it is impossible not to have it impact your life. Ramadan is a time of fasting, reflection, and increased prayer (like Lent in my faith experience) , and, like Thanksgiving and Christmas, a time of increased charity, special foods, and family togetherness. At the end of Ramadan, I think there are gifts was well. It seems to be a pretty good party, too. The first thing that happened was that Morocco changed time. Not too long ago, we "sprang forward" to daylight savings time. On May 25, we "fell back." (Interesting side note: "spring forward" happened on the morning of Alex's return to the US, and it was just plain lucky that we figured it out and he got to the airport on time; Eric's return was on the morning that we "fell back"-- but we were better forearmed with knowledge. Since Europe and the US didn't change times, we were notified by Air France that the time of the actual flight was an hour earlier than we expected.) Now the sun is setting about 7:30 pm, and dawn is about 4:00, as far as I can tell. The rhythm of Ramadan rests with the rhythm of the five daily prayer times, so sunrise and sunset are immensely important. Muslims neither eat nor drink between sunrise and sunset. Adil invited me to spend the first night of Ramadan with his family so that I could see how it all works. I went to their home to have "ftor, " a meal which occurs when the sun sets, and just before the evening prayers. There are classic ftor foods: a soup called harira, a hard-cooked egg, a few dates, and a baked sweet called a shebekia. People also drink water and juices at this point of the day. At Adil's, we also had some little empanada-like pastries with a ground beef mixture inside that were quite yummy. After the fast is broken, men go to the mosque to pray (and in my limited experience) the women pray at home. Then the evening begins. People become a lot more lively than they were during the day, and the socializing starts. In Adil's family, everyone goes to bed about midnight, and rises again at 2:30 am so that they can have another meal. There was mint tea and pastries, but I just couldn't manage to eat much that early. About 3:30, the aden is called and the men go to the mosque for the morning prayers. They return home, and everyone sleeps until either a) the small children wake up and need attention; or b) it's 9:00 or so. In other families, people don't sleep between midnight and 2:30-- they eat another meal. Here in my neighborhood, all the restaurants and cafes are closed during the day. Some open at 7:30 pm for the ftor, but most don't open until about 10 pm and they stay open until -- well, the morning prayer, presumably, but I don't know that from personal experience. What I do know is that there is an incredible amount of the noise of people eating, drinking, and socializing until about 2 am. And in the morning, about 8 am when I wake up, there is silence. Only the birds are up. Well, teachers must be up, too, because school is still going on-- in fact, this past week was the beginning of the high stakes end of year tests. In the Frederick County Schools, when we have big common tests, we serve a breakfast to kids, and we supply water and peppermints during the breaks. I appear to be the only one concerned by the end-of-year tests going on during Ramadan-- everyone else says that people get used to the fasting and it isn't a big deal. (Though one person told me that parents do try to make sure that their kids eat well in the pre-dawn meal.) Most business have different hours during Ramadan. Some open an hour late and close an hour early; some have very restricted hours. Just a handful of places are available for tourists to get food (think McDonald's and Pizza Hut). There is no smoking during the day. People get cranky-- anecdotally I can say that there are more street altercations between shouting people and a lot more horns blowing in the streets. There are more disadvantaged people on the streets looking for charity, and more people sharing with them. Sometimes, places that are usually hives of activity are just plain deserted. Coming from a pluralistic society, I find it fascinating to witness how a 98% Muslim country celebrates an obligatory religious festival. It's not like you have to wonder if someone is fasting or not: believe me, they are. Men are carrying their prayer rugs under their arms. More men are wearing djellabas instead of western attire. The closed cafe below my apartment is a spot where men lounge on the floor during the day and read the Koran. Did I mention that cafes or restaurants are closed during the day? So, this is one way that Ramadan has really changed my life. I have been primarily eating in restaurants and cafes. (Don' t judge me. In a country where restaurants are unbelievable affordable, I have really enjoyed having someone else do the planning and cooking, and especially the cleaning up after meals! )However now, I must do some shopping and prepping and cleaning up. I'm eating more salads, and it's lucky that my roommate Abi has brought with her a lot of kitchen tools! Abi is fasting during Ramadan, and I admire her for sticking with it. Ftor is a time for socializing though, so we cooked one night and invited our friend Rachel over to enjoy the meal with us. Along with the classic ftor foods, we made an avocado/date/almond/banana smoothie and a beef tajine as our main course. Here are some pictures: One evening, I went out to my "spot" overlooking where the waves crash in to the rocky shore and there's a small linear park. There are some benches to sit and watch the sea, and there are a bunch of soccer fields, which are ALWAYS in use. Not during Ramadan though! I was nearly alone on the bench watching a beautiful sunset one night. Everyone was at home waiting for the ftor to commence, I guess. But there was an older woman watching the sunset, too, and she had brought a snack with her to break her fast at the appropriate time. We had a lovely conversation about what a blessing it was that Allah/Dieu had given us such a beautiful "couche-soleil". The sunset was phenomenal that night. Here are some pics. Last night, we had a picnic at Rabat Beach with a group of the Fulbrighters here in Rabat. This is apparently a more popular spot for Ftor Picnics. There were tables and chairs for rent if you wanted them. Zach and his visiting brother grilled some chicken kabobs, Hannah brought all the fixings for s'mores, and Abi and I brought salad and our soon-to-be-famous avocado smoothies. It is really wonderful and so interesting to be part of this community of amazing scholars and researchers. Hem du li la! (Thanks be to God!) Here are some clarifications to my blog, thanks to comments that I got from my Moroccan friends Ghislane and Ahlam. Thanks ladies! Shokran!
1) Women do have the choice to pray in the mosk or pray at home. but men are obliged to pray in the mosque unless they are sick or something 2) Only boys or girls who reached the age of puberty who must fast; and for those who haven't reached it they are free either to fast or not. 3) You saw men reading the Quran because Muslims try to conclude reading the whole Quran at least once during this holy month of Ramadan, for in it the holy Quran was revealed to Prophet Muhammad peace be upon him. Eric came for his visit in May. We visited Marrakech and southern towns of Essaouira and Agadir with great Atlantic beaches, and made it into the High Atlas mountains to Paradise Valley near Agadir. Here are a few shots of Eric, physically throwing himself into the visit.
(thank you autocorrect!)
subpoint: gays
Mara came for her visit, and it was a whirlwind of so many colors and places! She arrived on Saturday, and we quickly hopped on a train and went to Casablanca for the celebration of Hanane and Mohammed’s wedding. We both wore our Moroccan finery, danced, ate some wonderful food, and were generally honored to be part of the celebration. I will post a separate blog on the wedding itself, which is quite a bit different from American weddings, after Hanane and I sit down together and go choose which pictures to post. Suffice to say now that it was something that neither Mara nor I will ever forget! Sunday we slept in just a bit after a late arrival back in Rabat, and then met my friend Rani for a croissant and coffee, and a walk to the waterfront in L’Océan, my neighborhood. At 3 pm, we boarded a long-distance bus for the city of Chefchaouen, which is in the Rif Mountains in northern Morocco. We arrived just after sunset, and our wonderful guide Abdesalam picked us up and deposited us to our hotel, and guided us to a wonderful restaurant for dinner. Chaouen is a small city, famous for the blue paint that is used on the walls of the old medina. It is very easy to navigate, and there is something beautiful around every curve, down every alley. There were a good number of Chinese tourists there taking artsy photographs, too, and Mara surprised a few by speaking to them in Mandarin. We spent all day Monday wandering the city, drinking tea--lots of tea!-- and chatting with merchants, and taking photographs. The light is really something amazing there! We also climbed to the top of the hill on which Chaouen is perched to an old Spanish chapel for the impressive view. In fact, we went part way back up to see the sunset from that vantage point. Tuesday, Abdesalam picked us (and our many new home-decorating handcrafted purchases) up and we drove through the Rif Mountains to the town of Tétouan. This is a city that has a significant Spanish influence architecturally and culturally because it was controlled by Spain instead of France during the Protectorate years of the 20th century. Also, it is quite close to the town of Ceuta, which is a Spanish town on the African side of the Mediterranean. Did you know there was a little chunk of Spain sitting on the coast of Africa? No? Me neither! Moroccans need a visa to cross the border to visit it. There was an persistent and not very attractive fog all day that gave a gray cast to the white walls of the medina. Our favorite part of the tour was to a school that is for kids who decide to apprentice in traditional handicrafts— so their last two years of high school are spent learning leather crafting, metal work, fabric weaving and embroidery, carving and painting wood, or doing zellij, the intricate tile work seen in so many buildings. These crafts are passed from generation to generation, so it was inspiring to see that there are some kids who want to continue in the tradition, and a little sad to realize that these crafts could be lost if there is not a new generation to master them. After a good lunch in an old riad, we nixed the coast road (too much fog) and drove over the mountains to Tangier. Here we said goodbye to Abdesalam and checked into the Grand Hotel Villa de France, a beautifully restored hotel from the turn of the 20th century, famous because Henri Matisse spent many months there one year and painted a lot, including a view out his window, which is in a Russian collection these days. The room he lived in is kept as a bit of a museum, and when we went to see it, there was a BBC/PBS film crew there doing a piece for a series that will air in 2018 apparently called “Civilizations.” Mara and I explored the medina ourselves, not getting lost even once, and had a dinner at the restaurant I mentioned in an earlier blog— where there is no menu, just a set price, and the chef creates whatever he can from the fish of the day. I think I will have to go back in the fall sometime, because the meal in April was quite like the meal in February— but it was very tasty! The owner gifted Mara with a set of wooden forks (that you eat your meal with) and a colorful basket to keep them in. Wednesday, we went to Spain for lunch. An American visitor to Morocco can stay 90 days with out a visa, and my 90 days were just about running out. You must exit the country, and when you re-enter, you get another 90 days. It’s a wonderful system! You don’t have to be gone very long, either. I could have popped in to Ceuta, or we could take the ferry across the Strait of Gibraltar to Tarifa or Algeciras, Spain. This sounded like a more fun option to Mara and me, so we took the first ferry of the day, along with several busloads of Korean tourists. We landed in Tarifa and took a bus across the peninsula to the larger town of Algeciras. The first thing we did there was to grab a coffee in a cafe, and at the table next to us, I saw something I hadn’t seen in about 90 days— three women having a cerveza! Our waitress answered our inquiry by telling us that there was NO where in that town to get a good paella, so we decided on shopping and tapas instead. We wandered the town, looking at painted ceramic tiles (instead of zellij) and churches (instead of mosques) and a lovely well-kept public garden. And then we got down to drinking sangria and eating tapas! We visited two Tapas restaurants and noticed that the wind was picking up— so we decided to hop on the next bus back to the ferry at Tarifa to take our last round of tapas and sangria there — here is what Gibraltar looked like from the port at Algeciras. And by the time we got back to Tarifa, the ferry company was suggesting that the next ferry would be the last ferry because of the waves and rough water in the Strait. So, we blew our way onto the ship, and bobbed back across. It was still quite windy in Tangier, but sunnier, and when we got back, we had time to explore Tangier a little more. Mara bought some olives in the souk, and we took them up to the terrace of the Grand Hotel Villa de France and enjoyed them with a spectacular view of the city, port, and beach. We had dinner at the Morocco Club, which was quite fancy, and expensive by Moroccan standards, but about the cost of a regular old no-frills dinner out in Frederick. Thursday, we took one more swing around the souk because all the Berber women had come in from the country for market day, wearing their distinctive hats and clothes and selling their delicious goat cheese and other produce. Then we grabbed the train and headed down about six hours south to the beach (and university) town of El Jadida, which is a good bit south of Rabat and Casa. Hmmm, you ask. Doesn’t that seem like a detour? Well, yes. After we had made the travel plans, the option came up for me to make a presentation at a symposium at the Chaiba Dakkahu University. In fact, due to my status as a recipient of the Fulbright Distinguished Award in Teaching, it turned out that I was the keynote speaker for Friday’s session! This was a room full of doctoral students and professors, and I wasn’t certain that my observations would merit their attention, but they were extremely welcoming and made me feel (honestly) like a rock star! I talked about some general observations that I can make having talked to and observed a fair number of Moroccan classes at middle school, high school, and university level these last 90 days, and I talked about the differences I note between how Americans and Moroccans approach the teaching and learning of languages. (Relax, gentle readers, that will be a separate paper and blog post in the future.) But the audience asked great questions after my talk, and I made several important connections for both my academic work and for additional classroom visits in a different part of the country from where I have been, and a bunch of young women wanted to take selfies with me. Haha!! Like I said, they treated me like a rock star! I also was intrigued with the talks that I heard on their topics of doctoral research. So this might be a good place to say that I have been accepted to a doctoral program myself, and if all of the logistics can be worked out, I’ll be starting in the fall on an Ed Doc degree in Literacy, working on second/foreign language issues or perhaps global literacy questions. The program really fits my interests well, and is offered through Salisbury University in Maryland. Back to El Jadida— Mara came and supported me through my talk, as did Dr James Miller and Khalid Baalou, the executive and assistant directors at MACECE, as well as Mustafa from the office. Dr Miller and Khalid were the ones who suggested that I might be the person to do the presentation on behalf of the Fulbrighters currently in Morocco. Mara then explored the town and the beach area and had lunch with a Fulbright English language teacher who is at the university in El Jadida. Taylor was super helpful in making El Jadida a part of the vacation for Mara, and not just a place I dragged her along to for my work. El Jadida is on the Atlantic coast, and its medina is still different from the others I’ve seen— it is from the Portugese time, and is more like a fort than a market at this point in time. After our tour of the old town, Mara and I hopped on another train and headed back to Rabat to sleep. And on Saturday, we were back at the train station grabbing the early train to Fez! Mara wanted to see an old Imperial City (there are four in Morocco: Rabat, Fez, Meknes, and Marrakesh— all with their own characters today). So I contacted Muhecine, who was a great guide when Alex and I visited Fez, and luckily he was available. He is really quite a deep thinker and is really, really excited by his city’s history, so he is just so interesting to listen to! We were able to visit the old medrassa or Koranic school from the 13th century and he really explained the philosophy and belief behind the zellij tilework, the Koranic verses in the cedar wood upper walls , and the Arabic classical poetry in the lower walls. We saw the oldest university and library in the world, created by a woman!. We couldn’t enter though— just peeked in— and then visited the craft factories to see how enormous amounts of leather are dyed and how wool and the “silk” from agave cactus plants is turned in to beautiful fabrics. Then, we had dinner and caught the last train back to Rabat. Day Nine, and finally Mara’s chance arrived to explore Rabat and see all the places that are home to me this spring. She got to meet my wonderful Arabic teacher Adil and his family (his wife and 4- and 6-year-old children) who came in from Kenitra to meet her, and another Fulbrighter Rachel, who lives in my neighborhood and took me to an amazing Maundy Thursday Seder meal at her church in Rabat. (another entry!) So she got to see the most important parts of the city, meet people who are important to my life, and enjoy the restaurants and neighborhood gelato joints that make this city great for me. We also both got a "shampooing et brushing" at the salon just under my apartment so our hair looks great for these last photos! I was grateful for her visit and sad to drop her off at the airport early this morning— but I’m off to Marrakesh to visit some schools! Our camel train made it to the top of the dunes about 20 minutes before the sunset-- the first of several groups-- and we sat at the top to enjoy the show. After the sun set, we headed on to our camp about 20 minutes down from the summit, among the dunes. The tents had walls and floors of Berber rugs, several camp beds in each, and a bunch of blankets on each bed. It gets really cold once the sun goes down!!! There was also a dining tent, where we had a tajine that was heavy on the veggies, and sliced oranges with cinnamon for dessert. A Spanish family brought bottles of wine with them. Forward thinkers! After dinner there was a campfire with many songs. Everyone was prevailed upon to sing a song from his or her country; as we were the only Americans, Alex suggested Happy Birthday, but one of Moroccans announced an American song and sang a Justin Beiber song (which Alex correctly identified as "Canadian" rather than "American". ) The Berbers played and sang many songs, all with more enthusiasm than the guys in the village earlier in the day. After the fire, Alex and I went out into the dunes, with practically zero ambient light and no moon, and we watched the stars. It was just magical. Our guide Mustafa was with us, and he told us all about his life with a nomad family who "came in" when the kids needed to go to school, and they sold their goats and camels and moved into a house. But he kept one camel that he raised from a baby, and it's more like a pet to him now. It was certainly a once-in-a-lifetime experience! Here's another slide show: My son Alex came to spend his college spring break with me, and I took advantage of having him here to schedule a multi-day trip out see some of the farther reaches of the country. By the way, above is his photo of the sunrise in the desert, but more about that later. We started by taking a train to Fez, a city that holds the oldest university in the world (we couldn't go in, unfortunately, but we figuratively pressed our noses to the window) and took a tour of with Mucehine, who is going to be a Fulbright teacher of Arabic at an American university next year. (Honestly, the network of Fulbrighters is nothing short of amazing!) So he took us to see the academic sites and also the crafty ones-- a studio where they were weaving on looms, and a leather workshop, where there were incredible vats of dyes for achieving the softness and colors that people like. We stayed in a classically decorated riad hotel in the medina, and the next morning we met our guide/driver Mohammed for our camel trek. We drove first to a town called Ifrane, which is billed as "Morocco's Switzerland." It is up in the Middle Atlas, and the roofs are A-frames and it is very clean. There is a university there, which is taught by mostly American professors on an American liberal arts curriculum. But to me, it looked like Minneapolis. Next, we drove through a forest of cedar trees, from which I can only assume came all the wood for those amazing walls and ceilings in the old palaces and madrassas, and we saw roadside a troupe of Barbary macaques, or sometimes they're called Barbary Apes. They were quite tame, and allowed us to take pictures. Some following cars stopped and people started feeding them kiwis and oranges, which they seemed to enjoy. It felt a bit like Yellowstone in the 1960s, to be honest. We drove through orchards of blooming cherry trees that were spectacularly beautiful, and then into the Middle Atlas mountains. Apparently the weather system that provided the rain that caused the flooding here in Rabat about two weeks ago delivered fresh snow to the mountains. There was some rain for our mountain travel, some though the high desert and Ziz valley, and when we made it down to the town of Merzuga, gateway to the Sahara in the southeast of the country, we even were treated to a rainbow over the sand dunes. This photo does not do it justice at all, but I haven't mastered photoshop yet! We checked in to our desert hotel, where we we greeted with a glass of mint tea. The hotel was desert-rustic but quite comfy, and we settled in for an evening of off-and-on rain showers, a hail storm, and then some fierce wind that kept random things knocking around for the night. So many pictures that I put some in a slide show: The next day was something I called All-Day Desert Day. We started in the 4 x 4 driving out into the dunes and all around Erg Chebbi. There were some hills of volcanic rock alongside some of the dunes, and one of them provided a great vista of the dunes, the desert, and that plateau that forms the border with Algeria, about 30 miles from where we were. Driving further into the desert we saw many camels, and some tents of Berber nomads. At one tent, two young boys waved to us and we stopped. We were invited to come to the tent and have some mint tea. The dad made the tea while the mom was making some couscous in the cooking tent; the boys went to collect some of the camels that had wandered too far, and the baby was working really hard to crawl in the tent. Her name is Fatima. Lunch was in a small village called Ksar Khamlia. This town is populated by the descendants of Malians, and they celebrate their culture heritage by hosting a music festival every August. We were treated to some singing and dancing, and then lunch in their restaurant called Cafe Nora, which specialized in a "Berber pizza" which was really a lot more like a veggie calzone, but it was pretty tasty. At 4 pm, we mounted our camels for our "trek". I am going to included a specific blog entry on the camel trek, So here are just three photos. Oh, our head scarves are courtesy of Cameltrek Tours-- they have our names stenciled on them! The next morning we got up before dawn, got on our camels, and returned to the hotel so that we could clean up and eat breakfast. And then we headed east through the amazing Dadès and Todra Gorges of the High Atlas range. First, we stopped at one of the fossil "shops" near the town of Erfoud and saw some really astonishing samples of trilobites, ammonites, sharks teeth, squid, etc. And we enjoyed some mint tea with the Fossil Guy! Next stop, the town where Mohammed's family lives. We actually saw his younger brother walking home from school as we passed through the town, and so we picked him up and took him home. I, of course, thought this was a great opportunity to have a "spontaneous natural conversation" in French, but he was a little too shy to play with me. (If you're a careful reader, you will remember that the title of my Inquiry Project is "Spontaneous Natural Conversation in a Second Language...") Then Mohammed's mother invited us in, and served us mint tea! (anyone counting yet???) We had a hilarious conversation in Darija, wherein I struggled to remember words that I knew I had been taught, and she was having a "spontaneous natural conversation." Eventually I agreed (I do know that this occurred in the conversation) to having her paint my hands with henna in the fashion of the area. So here are my hands, in process: Interesting roadside sites: a shepherd had brought camels and goats down to a well alongside the highway, so we visited a bit with him; camel-crossing sign; mass of bikes parked at the middle-school-- it's how a lot of kids get to school, though there are also some school busses; Alex and I in colorful Berber attire (we were dressed by the ladies of a shop in hopes that we'd buy the ensembles. We didn't, though. We drove through spectacular high desert scenery on our way to the Todras and Dadès Gorges. It felt a lot like we were driving right through a Geology 101 textbook! A slide show: And when we checked in to the Panorama Hotel-- mint tea and almonds on the terrace!! The next day, we headed to Ouarzazate, the movie capital of Morocco, But that will be another blog entry. |
Marcie StutzmanTeacher, Researcher, Adventurer, Explorer; Maybe crazy; Possibly too old for this Archives
October 2018
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