In my last post I talked about the difficulties of traveling during the transportation strike, but neglected to mention anything about why the strike was happening.
The strike started on the 8th of April. It is supposed to affect all public transportation. Anyone who makes their living by driving (even transporting goods) is on strike. In small villages like my community, our local market transit is partially affected. Our transit driver went to and from Tounfite on Saturday and Sunday, but has not gone other days. I’m not sure what governs his decision.
Transportation workers are striking because they are upset with new laws imposed by the government. There are several new laws, but a couple that people talk about a lot. One is that anyone who kills someone else with their car (regardless of fault) will go to jail for upwards of ten years. Most of the other laws concern fines for traffic violations such as speeding (1,000 Dhs) and running a red light (also 1,000 Dhs). The government is making these laws in order to reduce the number of deaths on the road in Morocco, which is currently high.
The effects of the strike are far reaching. In big cities, local taxis are affected, which transport many people to and from work on a daily basis. For people in the countryside, the greater concern is traveling between towns/cities. My host dad has to travel to Tounfite in order to collect his quarterly retirement pension from the post office. He went on Monday morning, but could not find return transport so was stuck in Tounfite for… Other people have to travel to and from places like Midelt for business, but are unable to.
Perhaps the greatest effect that the strike has is on supplies. Like America, Morocco is dependent upon transport to distribute goods throughout the country. According to the television, ships are currently docked in Moroccan ports with goods to unload, but are unable to do so because there are no trucks to deliver the goods. Hitting closer to home is the shortage of vegetables in my market town. Fruits and vegetables are transported from the agricultural centers to the rest of the nation. The quality of vegetables this past market day (Sunday) declined noticeably. And the prices skyrocketed. Onions that are normally 3-5 Dhs/kilo were 10 Dhs/kilo. Given my generous Peace Corps salary (2,000 Dhs/month), this increase in prices is not a hardship and did not affect my purchases in any way. But for people who normally spend more than 50% of their income on food, having the price of food double has a dramatic effect. People in my village won’t eat as many vegetables this week as they normally do. In addition to food, there is a shortage of other important goods such as gas for stoves. People will get by by borrowing from their neighbors or using alternative methods of heating (wood stoves).
So what do Moroccans think of the transportation strike? Well I hardly have a representative sample here, but I have heard both sides of the story. My host mom says that the government is in the right for imposing the new laws; something must be done to decrease the number of deaths on the road. A local teacher and a friend both expressed a different view. They say that the new laws will have no impact on the number of deaths on the road. According to them, right now, if a taxi driver is stopped by the police for a violation (say a 400 Dhs fine for speeding), the police will simply ask for a bribe less than the cost of the fine (say 100 Dhs). Therefore, according to my friend and the teacher, the increase in fines will only allow police to ask for more from their bribes. (Although it seems to me that having to pay a larger bribe to the police might be a greater deterrent). They both say that Morocco is always trying to solve its problems with new rules and laws, but what it really needs is better enforcement of the existing laws. The teacher also argued that the best way to reduce traffic accidents is to improve the quality of the roads, which I have to agree with.
The strike dominates most conversations that I’m apart of and headlines the news every night. People speculate about how long it will last (a strike three years ago lasted seven days) and how much things will cost on the next market day. Although it was a pain in the neck for me when I was trying to travel back from my site, now that I’m here, it’s not a big deal (except for my host dad being stuck in Tounfite). And I enjoy having an interesting topic of conversation readily available. However, for some people here, it is a hardship because of the shortage of supplies.
Update
Coming back to my community after 2 weeks in Fes and Rabat was a bit of a shock. Its so conservative here. But its good to be home. Ive got some work to wrap up before I leave for America, but mostly Im just enjoying being back.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Traveling in Morocco
Traveling here can be easy, frustrating, cheap, expensive…pretty much everything. There is currently a transportation strike going on (really no transport other than trains and hitch hiking anywhere) so it seemed like a good time to write about the issue.
Local vans. This is my primary means of transportation around my site. These are big vans that seat maybe 12-15 people comfortably. However, they are more often filled to the brim. I’ve seen 30 people in a transit like this, with 10 more riding along on top. My transit is generally reliable. I find the driver the day before and ask him what time he will be leaving the next day. He’s normally within fifteen minutes of his estimate. Sometimes, however, he is wrong by an hour or two. This is particularly frustrating when I wake up at 5 am and it’s the dead of winter. These transits are fairly inexpensive: my transit costs 10 Dhs ($1.20) for an hour ride.
Grand Taxis. Grand taxis are big, old Mercedes that typically fit 6 people plus the driver (four in the back seat, two in the front passenger). This 6 people rule is more of guideline, however, as more can be squeezed in depending upon demand and the driver’s willingness. Taxis run between big towns/small cities. They compete with buses, which normally run between the same cities (although buses go much further distances than taxis). Taxis are faster than buses, but more expensive. A taxi from Boumia to Azrou (about 1.5 –2 hours) costs 40 Dhs ($5).
Buses. These are pretty similar to buses in the states, except a little older and a little dirtier. They run long trips all over the country. They’re kind of slow sometimes because they will pick up anyone standing by the side of the road with their thumb out and drop people off wherever they want. But their cheap and you can get anywhere in the country with them.
Trains. Trains only run between the biggest cities in Morocco (Meknes, Fes, Rabat, Casablanca, Oujda, Marrakech). They are the most comfortable form of transportation. They are also by far the most expensive. I recently took a train from Fes to Rabat (my first train!), which is about a 3 hour ride. It cost me 76 Dhs. A bus for the same route would probably be around 45-50 Dhs. But the train is nice because you meet more interesting people and it’s comfortable.
Hitch hiking. I hadn’t done too much of this before the current transportation strike. Normally it is no big deal as pretty much everyone hitch hikes. Most of the time when you get picked up it’s by a taxi driver, bus, or local van. Taxi drivers will even leave seats open for hitch hikers. You often pay a small amount; about what you’d pay a taxi driver for the same route. However, during the transportation strike, it was a different story altogether. No one was picking up and many people were trying to get rides. A quick summary of my hitch hiking adventure.
Thursday I left a fellow volunteer’s site, hoping to get to my site that evening. I got to the nearest big town (Gigo) to catch the 9:30 bus. The ticket guy said: “There’s nothing, try tomorrow.” I asked around and people told me about the strike. Apparently there was nothing. So went out to the main road in town and found a transit that was going to Timhadite. I felt I might have a better chance in Timhadite because it’s on a bigger road. However, after three hours with my thumb out, I gave up and went back to the volunteer’s house for the night.
The next morning (Friday) I went back to Timhadite and waited for about 30 minutes – hour before I got picked up. A big tourist bus was empty and driving people illegally. They drove me to Zeida. In Zeida I stood by the side of the road for about 3 hours with absolutely no luck (trying to go to Boumia). At around 3 or 4 in the afternoon, I gave up and walked to the other road out of town to catch a ride to Midelt (where a volunteer lives). This is a larger road and it wasn’t as hard getting a ride. I got picked up in 45 minutes by some Casablancans on their way to Merzouga (the desert) for a trance music festival. They invited me to come with them and I was tempted, but declined. I got to my friend’s house in Midelt and stayed the night there
Saturday morning I got up early to try my luck again. Unfortunately, I had to back track to Zeida in order to get to Boumia. I stood by the side of the road for about an hour with no luck. Then some boys (maybe 16 or 17 years old) walked by and told me they were walking to Boumia and to come with them. It’s about a 44 km walk so I told them no. They kept trying to persuade me. They said that if we walked about 5 km out of town we would have a better chance of getting a ride. That was enough to convince me. We walked for about 10 km and finally got a ride to Zeida. In Zeida, we got some food, and walked out of town in the direction of Boumia. There is a large lake there so we took our food to its shores and rested for a bit. Then we started walking again, getting picked up about 5 km into our walk.
In Boumia (about 2:30 pm) we went to one of the boy’s house and had lunch. That was nice. They wanted me to stay the night, but I wanted to get to Tounfite for the night. So back to the road. Tounfite is about 37 km from Boumia, so it was unwalkable that late in the day. There weren’t many vehicles going by, so I had little hope. A friend drove by, but his car was full and he couldn’t take me. Finally someone with one spot left stopped and agreed to take me. So here I am in Tounfite. I was exhausted from my travels, but I slept really well last night (today is Sunday) and I’m glad to be home.
Update
My two weeks of work, related travel went really well. I met some interesting people and learned a lot about Morocco. I’m on an incredible streak of having very positive interactions with people that I have just met.
My work also took a very promising step forward when I went to Rabat for a meeting. Another volunteer and I met with CDER, which is a renewable energy agency that is associated with the Ministry of Energy of Morocco. We have been coordinating with them on our conversion of hammam stoves. Although our most recent effort in hammam conversion didn’t go well, CDER is still behind the project; they gave us some good ideas for what to do next. They want to draw up a convention between CDER and Peace Corps that will solidify our responsibilities with one another and hopefully make the work more accessible to other Peace Corps volunteers. They also want us to do a study of personal wood consumption in our region. If the project goes well, then this will be a ton of work for the rest of my service. It’s very exciting.
One last thing: during the transportation strike I had a nice realization: I really wanted to get back to my community.
Local vans. This is my primary means of transportation around my site. These are big vans that seat maybe 12-15 people comfortably. However, they are more often filled to the brim. I’ve seen 30 people in a transit like this, with 10 more riding along on top. My transit is generally reliable. I find the driver the day before and ask him what time he will be leaving the next day. He’s normally within fifteen minutes of his estimate. Sometimes, however, he is wrong by an hour or two. This is particularly frustrating when I wake up at 5 am and it’s the dead of winter. These transits are fairly inexpensive: my transit costs 10 Dhs ($1.20) for an hour ride.
Grand Taxis. Grand taxis are big, old Mercedes that typically fit 6 people plus the driver (four in the back seat, two in the front passenger). This 6 people rule is more of guideline, however, as more can be squeezed in depending upon demand and the driver’s willingness. Taxis run between big towns/small cities. They compete with buses, which normally run between the same cities (although buses go much further distances than taxis). Taxis are faster than buses, but more expensive. A taxi from Boumia to Azrou (about 1.5 –2 hours) costs 40 Dhs ($5).
Buses. These are pretty similar to buses in the states, except a little older and a little dirtier. They run long trips all over the country. They’re kind of slow sometimes because they will pick up anyone standing by the side of the road with their thumb out and drop people off wherever they want. But their cheap and you can get anywhere in the country with them.
Trains. Trains only run between the biggest cities in Morocco (Meknes, Fes, Rabat, Casablanca, Oujda, Marrakech). They are the most comfortable form of transportation. They are also by far the most expensive. I recently took a train from Fes to Rabat (my first train!), which is about a 3 hour ride. It cost me 76 Dhs. A bus for the same route would probably be around 45-50 Dhs. But the train is nice because you meet more interesting people and it’s comfortable.
Hitch hiking. I hadn’t done too much of this before the current transportation strike. Normally it is no big deal as pretty much everyone hitch hikes. Most of the time when you get picked up it’s by a taxi driver, bus, or local van. Taxi drivers will even leave seats open for hitch hikers. You often pay a small amount; about what you’d pay a taxi driver for the same route. However, during the transportation strike, it was a different story altogether. No one was picking up and many people were trying to get rides. A quick summary of my hitch hiking adventure.
Thursday I left a fellow volunteer’s site, hoping to get to my site that evening. I got to the nearest big town (Gigo) to catch the 9:30 bus. The ticket guy said: “There’s nothing, try tomorrow.” I asked around and people told me about the strike. Apparently there was nothing. So went out to the main road in town and found a transit that was going to Timhadite. I felt I might have a better chance in Timhadite because it’s on a bigger road. However, after three hours with my thumb out, I gave up and went back to the volunteer’s house for the night.
The next morning (Friday) I went back to Timhadite and waited for about 30 minutes – hour before I got picked up. A big tourist bus was empty and driving people illegally. They drove me to Zeida. In Zeida I stood by the side of the road for about 3 hours with absolutely no luck (trying to go to Boumia). At around 3 or 4 in the afternoon, I gave up and walked to the other road out of town to catch a ride to Midelt (where a volunteer lives). This is a larger road and it wasn’t as hard getting a ride. I got picked up in 45 minutes by some Casablancans on their way to Merzouga (the desert) for a trance music festival. They invited me to come with them and I was tempted, but declined. I got to my friend’s house in Midelt and stayed the night there
Saturday morning I got up early to try my luck again. Unfortunately, I had to back track to Zeida in order to get to Boumia. I stood by the side of the road for about an hour with no luck. Then some boys (maybe 16 or 17 years old) walked by and told me they were walking to Boumia and to come with them. It’s about a 44 km walk so I told them no. They kept trying to persuade me. They said that if we walked about 5 km out of town we would have a better chance of getting a ride. That was enough to convince me. We walked for about 10 km and finally got a ride to Zeida. In Zeida, we got some food, and walked out of town in the direction of Boumia. There is a large lake there so we took our food to its shores and rested for a bit. Then we started walking again, getting picked up about 5 km into our walk.
In Boumia (about 2:30 pm) we went to one of the boy’s house and had lunch. That was nice. They wanted me to stay the night, but I wanted to get to Tounfite for the night. So back to the road. Tounfite is about 37 km from Boumia, so it was unwalkable that late in the day. There weren’t many vehicles going by, so I had little hope. A friend drove by, but his car was full and he couldn’t take me. Finally someone with one spot left stopped and agreed to take me. So here I am in Tounfite. I was exhausted from my travels, but I slept really well last night (today is Sunday) and I’m glad to be home.
Update
My two weeks of work, related travel went really well. I met some interesting people and learned a lot about Morocco. I’m on an incredible streak of having very positive interactions with people that I have just met.
My work also took a very promising step forward when I went to Rabat for a meeting. Another volunteer and I met with CDER, which is a renewable energy agency that is associated with the Ministry of Energy of Morocco. We have been coordinating with them on our conversion of hammam stoves. Although our most recent effort in hammam conversion didn’t go well, CDER is still behind the project; they gave us some good ideas for what to do next. They want to draw up a convention between CDER and Peace Corps that will solidify our responsibilities with one another and hopefully make the work more accessible to other Peace Corps volunteers. They also want us to do a study of personal wood consumption in our region. If the project goes well, then this will be a ton of work for the rest of my service. It’s very exciting.
One last thing: during the transportation strike I had a nice realization: I really wanted to get back to my community.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Fes
I am nearing the end of one of my best weeks in Morocco. I’m in Fes for an annual Peace Corps youth camp. All over the country, volunteers from a different sector (they work with boarding schools in bigger towns) put on an English camp for Moroccan youth (14-17 years old). Volunteers from other sectors come to the camp to help out.
I was assigned to the Fes camp. I’ve never been to Fes before, even though it’s not too far from me and it’s one of the most famous cities in Morocco. After this week here, I will definitely be coming back to the city.
Before I get into gushing about how wonderful Fes is, let me first say that I am very happy to be in my tiny mountain village. I love the people there and I and if I had to choose a place to live for two years (in Morocco) this would be the place. I wouldn’t want to live in Fes and do this kind of work all the time.
That said, Fes is great. The people here wonderful. It’s a huge culture shock to be in this city; everything is so different. People are educated, open, and cosmopolitan. It feels like a different country. The language is different (Arabic, not Berber), people dress different, and people are wealthy. It has more in common with America than it does with my village.
Working with the kids at this camp is the most rewarding part. They are smart, engaged, and open. In addition to teaching English, I’m responsible for leading an HIV/AIDS and STI “club.” We meet for a couple hours a day to talk about these issues. In my village, it’s very difficult to talk about such sensitive issues, but here the kids are eager to talk about it. I am learning from them as much as I am teaching. I put a lot of time into preparing for the lessons. If I didn’t I wouldn’t be able to keep up with them. They have questions for me after class! So far the defining moment of the class was when a boy was explaining to the class that he would wait to marriage to have sex for religious reasons. When he finished speaking, a girl said, “That’s not possible! Every guy has sex before marriage – and so do most girls!” That may not be shocking to American readers, but coming from my village, it was astounding. Another amazing moment was the condom demonstration that I led. After I showed people how to do it, a girl came up and demonstrated for the rest of the class.
The girls at this camp are in love with me. And they are not afraid to show it. They flirt openly. One asked me, “So which of the girls at this camp do you think is the most beautiful?” When they talk to me, they touch my arms. It’s just how 14-17 year old American girls would act around a 23-year-old guy. It made me uncomfortable at first because it was so different from what I’m used to.
Most of the kids in the camp have girlfriends/boyfriends. They have little teenage relationship dramas and text one another constantly. (They all have cell phones with video cameras and the like). The kids dress hiply; much hipper than I remember my classmates dressing in high school.
Apart from the kids, there are other amazing parts about Fes. It is a beautiful city. We went for a tour of the medina (old city), and I was blown away. We visited beautiful religious schools with amazing courtyards. In these tile courtyards, the walls are lined with intricate woodcarvings. These ancient religious wonders are enough to make an atheist want to convert to Islam.
The people are great too. On Tuesday night I made plans to meet up with fellow volunteers at a hotel. They had transportation problems and were several hours late. The hotel was full (they already had a room), so I couldn’t get into the hotel until they arrived. I loitered outside the hotel and as the night got later and later, I started to feel uncomfortable. There were several sketchy looking characters smoking hash nearby. It’s the sort of situation that Peace Corps recommends that we avoid. But I ended up talking with the guys and I was amazed by how welcoming and nice they were. It made me feel guilty for my earlier wariness.
I’d been told that Fes is a proud Arab city and that people look down on Berber speakers, so with these guys I didn’t mention (at first) that I spoke Berber. But eventually it came out. To my surprise, it turned out that a couple of them spoke it. It wasn’t their first language, but they studied it and learned it, basically out of respect for the Berber people. They were thrilled that I spoke it. The guys who didn’t know Berber told me, “I’m jealous of you. You speak the language and I don’t. It is wonderful that you have learned it.” Coming in expecting hostility, I was (once again) blown away.
With these hash smoking, Berber speaking guys, I took a step towards understanding the religious views of people in the country. I’ve always been skeptical of the constant God phrases and just the omnipresence of God in people’s speech. I thought that having references to God so often cheapened the meaning of the words. And I assumed (wrongly again) that drug users wouldn’t be the firmest believers in God. But these guys were humble and just as firm in their belief as anyone else I met. We had a good conversation about it. They have a deep appreciation for the life that they have. Thanking God and doing everything in the name of God is just their way of expressing that appreciation.
The trip has strengthened by resolve to continue studying Arabic. I’ve met random people in cafes and on the streets who were welcoming and warm. I thought that with all the tourists coming through Fes that people might not be so welcoming. But I had good conversations with people that were limited by my language ability and not their willingness to speak with me.
Basically, in a week I’ve learned about this whole other world in Morocco that I am missing. The diversity in this country is unbelievable. Having not traveled very much, I’ve been ignorant to all the different pockets and niches where entirely different cultures and beliefs exist. The difficulty with traveling is that all the time that I spend out of my site hurts my ability to get work done. Nonetheless, I’ve just found out that I have to make the time for some traveling. It would be a shame if I lived in Morocco for two years and missed out on some of the wonderful things that it has to offer.
I was assigned to the Fes camp. I’ve never been to Fes before, even though it’s not too far from me and it’s one of the most famous cities in Morocco. After this week here, I will definitely be coming back to the city.
Before I get into gushing about how wonderful Fes is, let me first say that I am very happy to be in my tiny mountain village. I love the people there and I and if I had to choose a place to live for two years (in Morocco) this would be the place. I wouldn’t want to live in Fes and do this kind of work all the time.
That said, Fes is great. The people here wonderful. It’s a huge culture shock to be in this city; everything is so different. People are educated, open, and cosmopolitan. It feels like a different country. The language is different (Arabic, not Berber), people dress different, and people are wealthy. It has more in common with America than it does with my village.
Working with the kids at this camp is the most rewarding part. They are smart, engaged, and open. In addition to teaching English, I’m responsible for leading an HIV/AIDS and STI “club.” We meet for a couple hours a day to talk about these issues. In my village, it’s very difficult to talk about such sensitive issues, but here the kids are eager to talk about it. I am learning from them as much as I am teaching. I put a lot of time into preparing for the lessons. If I didn’t I wouldn’t be able to keep up with them. They have questions for me after class! So far the defining moment of the class was when a boy was explaining to the class that he would wait to marriage to have sex for religious reasons. When he finished speaking, a girl said, “That’s not possible! Every guy has sex before marriage – and so do most girls!” That may not be shocking to American readers, but coming from my village, it was astounding. Another amazing moment was the condom demonstration that I led. After I showed people how to do it, a girl came up and demonstrated for the rest of the class.
The girls at this camp are in love with me. And they are not afraid to show it. They flirt openly. One asked me, “So which of the girls at this camp do you think is the most beautiful?” When they talk to me, they touch my arms. It’s just how 14-17 year old American girls would act around a 23-year-old guy. It made me uncomfortable at first because it was so different from what I’m used to.
Most of the kids in the camp have girlfriends/boyfriends. They have little teenage relationship dramas and text one another constantly. (They all have cell phones with video cameras and the like). The kids dress hiply; much hipper than I remember my classmates dressing in high school.
Apart from the kids, there are other amazing parts about Fes. It is a beautiful city. We went for a tour of the medina (old city), and I was blown away. We visited beautiful religious schools with amazing courtyards. In these tile courtyards, the walls are lined with intricate woodcarvings. These ancient religious wonders are enough to make an atheist want to convert to Islam.
The people are great too. On Tuesday night I made plans to meet up with fellow volunteers at a hotel. They had transportation problems and were several hours late. The hotel was full (they already had a room), so I couldn’t get into the hotel until they arrived. I loitered outside the hotel and as the night got later and later, I started to feel uncomfortable. There were several sketchy looking characters smoking hash nearby. It’s the sort of situation that Peace Corps recommends that we avoid. But I ended up talking with the guys and I was amazed by how welcoming and nice they were. It made me feel guilty for my earlier wariness.
I’d been told that Fes is a proud Arab city and that people look down on Berber speakers, so with these guys I didn’t mention (at first) that I spoke Berber. But eventually it came out. To my surprise, it turned out that a couple of them spoke it. It wasn’t their first language, but they studied it and learned it, basically out of respect for the Berber people. They were thrilled that I spoke it. The guys who didn’t know Berber told me, “I’m jealous of you. You speak the language and I don’t. It is wonderful that you have learned it.” Coming in expecting hostility, I was (once again) blown away.
With these hash smoking, Berber speaking guys, I took a step towards understanding the religious views of people in the country. I’ve always been skeptical of the constant God phrases and just the omnipresence of God in people’s speech. I thought that having references to God so often cheapened the meaning of the words. And I assumed (wrongly again) that drug users wouldn’t be the firmest believers in God. But these guys were humble and just as firm in their belief as anyone else I met. We had a good conversation about it. They have a deep appreciation for the life that they have. Thanking God and doing everything in the name of God is just their way of expressing that appreciation.
The trip has strengthened by resolve to continue studying Arabic. I’ve met random people in cafes and on the streets who were welcoming and warm. I thought that with all the tourists coming through Fes that people might not be so welcoming. But I had good conversations with people that were limited by my language ability and not their willingness to speak with me.
Basically, in a week I’ve learned about this whole other world in Morocco that I am missing. The diversity in this country is unbelievable. Having not traveled very much, I’ve been ignorant to all the different pockets and niches where entirely different cultures and beliefs exist. The difficulty with traveling is that all the time that I spend out of my site hurts my ability to get work done. Nonetheless, I’ve just found out that I have to make the time for some traveling. It would be a shame if I lived in Morocco for two years and missed out on some of the wonderful things that it has to offer.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Riddles
My previous post discussed Berber tales. In my quest to find more stories, I stumbled into another cultural niche that I was unaware of: riddles. The following are riddles that people have told me.
A big truck, filled with watermelons, is driving down the road. Little by little, it comes upon a stretch in the road where there is lots of ice and snow. The driver is afraid to pass for fear that the truck will crash, ruining the watermelons. What does he do? (There are no watermelons during winter).
It is the evening before the day of l-Eid, so everyone is on the lookout for the new moon setting in the Western horizon (the new moon will signify that the next day is l-Eid). A man says that he saw the new moon while praying. How do we know he is lying? (The moon sets in the West. Muslims all over the world face Medina while they pray, which is to the East for Moroccans).
A man is walking down the road and he sees a dog in the middle of the road laying an egg. He is afraid to pass. What does he do? (Dogs don’t lay eggs).
There is an island that is close to the mainland. On the mainland sits a man. On the island there is a banana tree full of bananas. On the top of the tree there is a monkey. The man on the mainland wants to eat bananas. What does he do? (The man throws rocks at the monkey. The monkey will retaliate by throwing monkeys back).
A man is driving a truck very fast. Some cloth covering the bed of the truck suddenly comes forward on top of the windshield, blocking his view. What does he do? (The cloth couldn’t come forward if he was driving fast).
There is a wife and husband. The wife tells her husband to go bake bread. He does it. Why? (He is afraid that she will hit him with a stick).
A man is picking grapes from a grapevine above his head. Melting snow on the grapes is getting in his eyes, making it hard for him to work. What does he do? (There isn’t snow during grape harvest time).
There is a wife and husband. The husband is a midget and the wife is very tall. The husband is thirsty, so he asks his wife to pick him up and put him on top of the sink. Once on the sink, he drinks until he quenches his thirst. Then he picks up a pan and hits his wife with it, killing her. He cries. Why is he upset? (Because he can’t get down from the sink).
A man is driving down the road in a truck. The road winds along next to a large mountain. The man looks towards the mountain and sees a large rockslide falling down the mountainside, coming towards his truck. What does he do? (You only look forward while you are driving, so he couldn’t have seen the rockslide).
When you put water in the freezer, it turns solid, into ice. This is true for all liquids. What is the one thing that turns from liquid into solid when you put it in the oven? (An egg).
There is something that eats and eats and eats. It will eat anything. The more it eats, the bigger it gets. It cannot be satiated. However, if it drinks water, it will die. What is it? (Fire).
There is a river that a man wants to cross. However, he can’t because something will be ashamed. What will be ashamed? (His shoes, because they will get wet).
What is the one thing that can cross a river without getting wet? (A shadow).
Three people traveling come upon a river that they must cross. When they cross, one person sees the river and gets wet. One person sees the river, but does not get wet. And one does not see the river and does not get wet. How is this possible? (The first person is a pregnant woman who crosses the river. The second is the child the woman is carrying on her back. And the third is her unborn child).
What can send words without talking? (A letter).
A man is traveling with a fox, a sheep, and some grass. They come upon a river that they must cross. There is a boat, but it will only fit the man and one of his objects at a time. If the man leaves the fox with the sheep, it will eat the sheep. If the man leaves the sheep with the grass, it will eat the grass. What does he do? (He accompanies the sheep across the river. Leaves it there and returns. Next he takes the fox across, when he returns, he brings the sheep back. Then he takes the grass over, leaving it with the fox. He returns for the sheep).
There are three men and three women who want to cross a river. The boat can only fit two people at once. A woman cannot be in the presence of another man unless her husband is present (because the man will take advantage of her – this tidbit is unspoken, but assumed to be common knowledge). What is the solution? (Too complicated to explain. You need rocks or some objects to represent the men and women in order to figure out the puzzle).
A man is crossing the ocean with all of his things, animals, clothes, etc. The boat is filled to capacity; if the weight increases just the slightest bit, it will sink. His chicken lays an egg. Does the boat sink? Why or why not? (It doesn’t sink because the egg was already in the chicken, so the weight of the load doesn’t increase).
As you see, there is a wide variety of riddles. Some of them are legitimately difficult. Some are really easy. Some make no sense. I’ve been told others, but couldn’t remember them. Learning these riddles and telling them to other people once I’ve learned them is so much fun. People love them and the stories. I’m going to work on songs next, but those are harder. The song post might not be until summer, when wedding season is (and everyone sings songs).
Update
I’m in the midst of my busiest time as a Peace Corps volunteer. I’ve had an activity every day for the past week and a half. And this coming week I’m going to Fes to help with an English camp. Every year the Youth Development volunteers put on week-long camps for junior high kids all over the country. Other volunteers come for the week to help with English and teach some lessons on their own. I’m going to be doing a HIV/AIDS club. It’s an English intensive class, so we only speak English, which will be nice.
I’m happy to have the work. Doing work with the Traditional Birth Attendants, HIV/AIDS education in schools, and a workshop for hammam (public bath) owners to convince them to convert to more efficient stoves. The only bummer is that a lot of the work takes me out of my site, so I haven’t been here as much as I like to be.
A big truck, filled with watermelons, is driving down the road. Little by little, it comes upon a stretch in the road where there is lots of ice and snow. The driver is afraid to pass for fear that the truck will crash, ruining the watermelons. What does he do? (There are no watermelons during winter).
It is the evening before the day of l-Eid, so everyone is on the lookout for the new moon setting in the Western horizon (the new moon will signify that the next day is l-Eid). A man says that he saw the new moon while praying. How do we know he is lying? (The moon sets in the West. Muslims all over the world face Medina while they pray, which is to the East for Moroccans).
A man is walking down the road and he sees a dog in the middle of the road laying an egg. He is afraid to pass. What does he do? (Dogs don’t lay eggs).
There is an island that is close to the mainland. On the mainland sits a man. On the island there is a banana tree full of bananas. On the top of the tree there is a monkey. The man on the mainland wants to eat bananas. What does he do? (The man throws rocks at the monkey. The monkey will retaliate by throwing monkeys back).
A man is driving a truck very fast. Some cloth covering the bed of the truck suddenly comes forward on top of the windshield, blocking his view. What does he do? (The cloth couldn’t come forward if he was driving fast).
There is a wife and husband. The wife tells her husband to go bake bread. He does it. Why? (He is afraid that she will hit him with a stick).
A man is picking grapes from a grapevine above his head. Melting snow on the grapes is getting in his eyes, making it hard for him to work. What does he do? (There isn’t snow during grape harvest time).
There is a wife and husband. The husband is a midget and the wife is very tall. The husband is thirsty, so he asks his wife to pick him up and put him on top of the sink. Once on the sink, he drinks until he quenches his thirst. Then he picks up a pan and hits his wife with it, killing her. He cries. Why is he upset? (Because he can’t get down from the sink).
A man is driving down the road in a truck. The road winds along next to a large mountain. The man looks towards the mountain and sees a large rockslide falling down the mountainside, coming towards his truck. What does he do? (You only look forward while you are driving, so he couldn’t have seen the rockslide).
When you put water in the freezer, it turns solid, into ice. This is true for all liquids. What is the one thing that turns from liquid into solid when you put it in the oven? (An egg).
There is something that eats and eats and eats. It will eat anything. The more it eats, the bigger it gets. It cannot be satiated. However, if it drinks water, it will die. What is it? (Fire).
There is a river that a man wants to cross. However, he can’t because something will be ashamed. What will be ashamed? (His shoes, because they will get wet).
What is the one thing that can cross a river without getting wet? (A shadow).
Three people traveling come upon a river that they must cross. When they cross, one person sees the river and gets wet. One person sees the river, but does not get wet. And one does not see the river and does not get wet. How is this possible? (The first person is a pregnant woman who crosses the river. The second is the child the woman is carrying on her back. And the third is her unborn child).
What can send words without talking? (A letter).
A man is traveling with a fox, a sheep, and some grass. They come upon a river that they must cross. There is a boat, but it will only fit the man and one of his objects at a time. If the man leaves the fox with the sheep, it will eat the sheep. If the man leaves the sheep with the grass, it will eat the grass. What does he do? (He accompanies the sheep across the river. Leaves it there and returns. Next he takes the fox across, when he returns, he brings the sheep back. Then he takes the grass over, leaving it with the fox. He returns for the sheep).
There are three men and three women who want to cross a river. The boat can only fit two people at once. A woman cannot be in the presence of another man unless her husband is present (because the man will take advantage of her – this tidbit is unspoken, but assumed to be common knowledge). What is the solution? (Too complicated to explain. You need rocks or some objects to represent the men and women in order to figure out the puzzle).
A man is crossing the ocean with all of his things, animals, clothes, etc. The boat is filled to capacity; if the weight increases just the slightest bit, it will sink. His chicken lays an egg. Does the boat sink? Why or why not? (It doesn’t sink because the egg was already in the chicken, so the weight of the load doesn’t increase).
As you see, there is a wide variety of riddles. Some of them are legitimately difficult. Some are really easy. Some make no sense. I’ve been told others, but couldn’t remember them. Learning these riddles and telling them to other people once I’ve learned them is so much fun. People love them and the stories. I’m going to work on songs next, but those are harder. The song post might not be until summer, when wedding season is (and everyone sings songs).
Update
I’m in the midst of my busiest time as a Peace Corps volunteer. I’ve had an activity every day for the past week and a half. And this coming week I’m going to Fes to help with an English camp. Every year the Youth Development volunteers put on week-long camps for junior high kids all over the country. Other volunteers come for the week to help with English and teach some lessons on their own. I’m going to be doing a HIV/AIDS club. It’s an English intensive class, so we only speak English, which will be nice.
I’m happy to have the work. Doing work with the Traditional Birth Attendants, HIV/AIDS education in schools, and a workshop for hammam (public bath) owners to convince them to convert to more efficient stoves. The only bummer is that a lot of the work takes me out of my site, so I haven’t been here as much as I like to be.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Berber Tall Tales
I’ve recently learned a number of Berber folk stories that I think you might enjoy. Please excuse the lewdness of some of the later stories. Also, let me say that it is impossible to capture that manner that these stories are told in spoken English, let alone written.
A hedgehog and a wolf go out to plow their field. The wolf is bigger so he makes the hedgehog work. He plows, he plows, he plows. It’s hot and the hedgehog is tired. Somehow (I believe they arranged it ahead of time) the hedgehog gets his brother (who is also a hedgehog) to drop rocks down upon the field from a nearby cliff (the wolf cannot see the brother hedgehog). The hedgehog plowing the field tells the wolf to go over to cliff and see if he can hold the cliff side up and prevent it from falling down. The wolf goes over and supports the cliff with his back, but the rocks keep falling down. So the wolf tells the hedgehog plowing the field to hold the cliff up while he plows the field. When the hedgehog puts his back to the cliff (which is in the shade, mind you), his brother stops dropping the rocks. The hedgehog stays at the side of the cliff while the wolf plows the field.
In another hedgehog story, a hedgehog is playing a hand drum by the side of a well. He plays, he plays, he plays. After a little bit, he falls in the well. But he keeps playing the drum at the bottom of the well and many animals gather at the mouth of the well. The hedgehog tells them all to come in the well so they can play the drum together and have a party. So all the animals jump in the well. After a little while, the animals are hungry and can’t leave the well. They start eating each other. After a few days, all that is left is the hedgehog and a lion. They’re tired and about to go to sleep. The hedgehog tells the lion, “When I was a little boy, my father used to throw me straight up into the air to help me fall asleep. Could you do that?” So the lion throws the hedgehog up in the air. “A little higher” says the hedgehog. The lion throws the hedgehog up again. “Just a little higher?” The third time, the lion throws the hedgehog high enough in the air that he can grab the lip of the well and climb out. The lion dies of hunger.
A hedgehog and a wolf are walking along a path, the hedgehog in front. The hedgehog sees a trap in the path, so he pauses. He tells the wolf, “Uncle wolf, you are bigger. Why don’t you take the lead in case we meet something dangerous?” The wolf says no at first, but then agrees. He walks a little ways and gets caught in the trap. The hedgehog walks on. (After these hedgehog stories, someone invariably says, “hedgehogs are smart, aren’t they?” I don’t argue.)
There is no story behind this, but there is a mythical creature called a “taharir.” It is female and extremely ugly. It has four teeth: two on top and two on bottom. It’s top teeth reach down to its chin and the bottom ones above its eyes. It has the legs of a cow. It eats the flesh of men if they venture into the forest, but is afraid of light. Hilariously, the name of this animal is very similar to a soup that is served commonly during Ramadan. The ignorant foreigner is thus the source of hilarity until someone fills him in on the fact that he isn’t asking for soup.
Blackbirds make their cawing sound because they are trying to throw up money that they have swallowed.
A poor man wants to slaughter something for the coming holiday. An important guest is coming, so he has to have some meat to give him. However, he has no money, so he slaughters a mouse. The mouse is cooked and placed on top of couscous (the normal spot for meat) and served for dinner. When the guest sees the mouse on top of his couscous, he says “Sub” (which is what you say to animals to make them run away). The mouse wakes up and runs away, into the host’s herd of sheep (why he didn’t slaughter one of his sheep I don’t know). The sheep are scared of the mouse, so they scatter and run away, lost forever. The noises you hear at night are the sound of this man vainly calling for his sheep.
A very poor man has no food to eat. He goes to the field every day and eats grass like an animal. However, the King is coming to the community the next day. The Caid (local government official) is worried that the King will see the man and not like the situation. So the Caid goes to the poor man and gives him 1,000 Dhs ($130, a lot of money for a community like ours) and tells him not to eat the grass in the field. The next day the King comes and sees the community and approves. The following day the poor man returns to the field and eats grass.
Now start the sex stories. If you’d like to skip them, consider yourself forewarned. They aren’t explicit.
A male bird and a male frog are lonely. The bird suggests to the frog that they have sex. The frog is skeptical at first, but then gives in. The bird wants to go first, but the frog convinces the frog to let him go first. When they finish, the bird says, “Now it’s my turn.” But the frog jumps in the river and gets away.
A family of three approaches a rich man about buying his cow. The man says, “I have enough money, so there is no amount of money you can give me. Instead, I would like to have sex with you (speaking to the husband/father of the family).” So he has sex with him. Then he says, “If you want me to give you my cow, you will let me have sex with your wife.” So he has sex with the wife/mother. Then he says, “Finally, I will have sex with your son.” So he has sex with the son. Then he tells the family that they cannot have the cow.
A man and his friend stand at the entrance of a prostitution hotel 15 stories high. Each story of the building has a girl in it and a light illuminating the room. The man tells his friend that he will visit every story of the building and when he is finished with each girl, he will turn the light off to let his friend know that he has finished. Little by little, after all the lights have been turned off, the friend sees the man on the roof of the hotel, masturbating. He shouts at him, “What are you doing?” The man says, “I am trying to turn off the moon.”
That’s it. I will continue to ask about these stories because I think they’re interesting. People love telling me these stories and love it even more if I can tell one that I know. The stories probably say something about the culture, but I will let you readers do your own analyses. There are also tons of songs that have interesting lyrics. And people have been telling me riddles too. I will try to collect them and post them.
Update
My updates are starting to get repetitive. Everything is well. Work is going well, but slowly. The weather is nice. Despite my trip home looming on the near horizon, time is passing quickly. One new thing is that I’ve started studying Arabic seriously – a teacher at the local school is teaching me. Another new thing is that I’m spending less and less time in my community. My work is drawing me away from my site. I’m glad to have the work and be busier, but I don’t like being away from my community so much.
Another volunteer and I recently took a trip to one of my outer douars (28km) to visit with a woman who attended our traditional birth attendant (TBA) training. One striking thing about the trip was that the truck ride from our souq town (Tounfite) to the town (about 50 km) took five hours. The road is terrible. So these people are completely isolated. The other notable thing about the trip was our work with the TBA. We helped her lead an informational session with local women so she could pass on the knowledge that she learned at the training. It went OK, but there are lots of cultural things that we struggled with. Unfortunately, people don’t think they can learn anything form an illiterate woman like the TBA. And there isn’t any precedent for public education in this form, so people didn’t know what to make of it. The workshop emphasized the long-term view that one needs to take in order to see success for this project.
A hedgehog and a wolf go out to plow their field. The wolf is bigger so he makes the hedgehog work. He plows, he plows, he plows. It’s hot and the hedgehog is tired. Somehow (I believe they arranged it ahead of time) the hedgehog gets his brother (who is also a hedgehog) to drop rocks down upon the field from a nearby cliff (the wolf cannot see the brother hedgehog). The hedgehog plowing the field tells the wolf to go over to cliff and see if he can hold the cliff side up and prevent it from falling down. The wolf goes over and supports the cliff with his back, but the rocks keep falling down. So the wolf tells the hedgehog plowing the field to hold the cliff up while he plows the field. When the hedgehog puts his back to the cliff (which is in the shade, mind you), his brother stops dropping the rocks. The hedgehog stays at the side of the cliff while the wolf plows the field.
In another hedgehog story, a hedgehog is playing a hand drum by the side of a well. He plays, he plays, he plays. After a little bit, he falls in the well. But he keeps playing the drum at the bottom of the well and many animals gather at the mouth of the well. The hedgehog tells them all to come in the well so they can play the drum together and have a party. So all the animals jump in the well. After a little while, the animals are hungry and can’t leave the well. They start eating each other. After a few days, all that is left is the hedgehog and a lion. They’re tired and about to go to sleep. The hedgehog tells the lion, “When I was a little boy, my father used to throw me straight up into the air to help me fall asleep. Could you do that?” So the lion throws the hedgehog up in the air. “A little higher” says the hedgehog. The lion throws the hedgehog up again. “Just a little higher?” The third time, the lion throws the hedgehog high enough in the air that he can grab the lip of the well and climb out. The lion dies of hunger.
A hedgehog and a wolf are walking along a path, the hedgehog in front. The hedgehog sees a trap in the path, so he pauses. He tells the wolf, “Uncle wolf, you are bigger. Why don’t you take the lead in case we meet something dangerous?” The wolf says no at first, but then agrees. He walks a little ways and gets caught in the trap. The hedgehog walks on. (After these hedgehog stories, someone invariably says, “hedgehogs are smart, aren’t they?” I don’t argue.)
There is no story behind this, but there is a mythical creature called a “taharir.” It is female and extremely ugly. It has four teeth: two on top and two on bottom. It’s top teeth reach down to its chin and the bottom ones above its eyes. It has the legs of a cow. It eats the flesh of men if they venture into the forest, but is afraid of light. Hilariously, the name of this animal is very similar to a soup that is served commonly during Ramadan. The ignorant foreigner is thus the source of hilarity until someone fills him in on the fact that he isn’t asking for soup.
Blackbirds make their cawing sound because they are trying to throw up money that they have swallowed.
A poor man wants to slaughter something for the coming holiday. An important guest is coming, so he has to have some meat to give him. However, he has no money, so he slaughters a mouse. The mouse is cooked and placed on top of couscous (the normal spot for meat) and served for dinner. When the guest sees the mouse on top of his couscous, he says “Sub” (which is what you say to animals to make them run away). The mouse wakes up and runs away, into the host’s herd of sheep (why he didn’t slaughter one of his sheep I don’t know). The sheep are scared of the mouse, so they scatter and run away, lost forever. The noises you hear at night are the sound of this man vainly calling for his sheep.
A very poor man has no food to eat. He goes to the field every day and eats grass like an animal. However, the King is coming to the community the next day. The Caid (local government official) is worried that the King will see the man and not like the situation. So the Caid goes to the poor man and gives him 1,000 Dhs ($130, a lot of money for a community like ours) and tells him not to eat the grass in the field. The next day the King comes and sees the community and approves. The following day the poor man returns to the field and eats grass.
Now start the sex stories. If you’d like to skip them, consider yourself forewarned. They aren’t explicit.
A male bird and a male frog are lonely. The bird suggests to the frog that they have sex. The frog is skeptical at first, but then gives in. The bird wants to go first, but the frog convinces the frog to let him go first. When they finish, the bird says, “Now it’s my turn.” But the frog jumps in the river and gets away.
A family of three approaches a rich man about buying his cow. The man says, “I have enough money, so there is no amount of money you can give me. Instead, I would like to have sex with you (speaking to the husband/father of the family).” So he has sex with him. Then he says, “If you want me to give you my cow, you will let me have sex with your wife.” So he has sex with the wife/mother. Then he says, “Finally, I will have sex with your son.” So he has sex with the son. Then he tells the family that they cannot have the cow.
A man and his friend stand at the entrance of a prostitution hotel 15 stories high. Each story of the building has a girl in it and a light illuminating the room. The man tells his friend that he will visit every story of the building and when he is finished with each girl, he will turn the light off to let his friend know that he has finished. Little by little, after all the lights have been turned off, the friend sees the man on the roof of the hotel, masturbating. He shouts at him, “What are you doing?” The man says, “I am trying to turn off the moon.”
That’s it. I will continue to ask about these stories because I think they’re interesting. People love telling me these stories and love it even more if I can tell one that I know. The stories probably say something about the culture, but I will let you readers do your own analyses. There are also tons of songs that have interesting lyrics. And people have been telling me riddles too. I will try to collect them and post them.
Update
My updates are starting to get repetitive. Everything is well. Work is going well, but slowly. The weather is nice. Despite my trip home looming on the near horizon, time is passing quickly. One new thing is that I’ve started studying Arabic seriously – a teacher at the local school is teaching me. Another new thing is that I’m spending less and less time in my community. My work is drawing me away from my site. I’m glad to have the work and be busier, but I don’t like being away from my community so much.
Another volunteer and I recently took a trip to one of my outer douars (28km) to visit with a woman who attended our traditional birth attendant (TBA) training. One striking thing about the trip was that the truck ride from our souq town (Tounfite) to the town (about 50 km) took five hours. The road is terrible. So these people are completely isolated. The other notable thing about the trip was our work with the TBA. We helped her lead an informational session with local women so she could pass on the knowledge that she learned at the training. It went OK, but there are lots of cultural things that we struggled with. Unfortunately, people don’t think they can learn anything form an illiterate woman like the TBA. And there isn’t any precedent for public education in this form, so people didn’t know what to make of it. The workshop emphasized the long-term view that one needs to take in order to see success for this project.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Culture of Dependency
I’ve always been in favor of the redistribution of wealth, but so my experiences in Peace Corps are changing that attitude some.
Before I came here, the argument that aid and government charity was pernicious because it created a culture of dependency seemed like a lame excuse. I just didn’t get why it was a problem. Saying that people needed to ‘pick themselves up by their bootstraps’ seemed unrealistic and insensitive. But seeing aid in action puts a different spin on the issue.
As a Westerner in a developing country, I’m constantly asked to give things away. People assume that Peace Corps and I have lots of money and that I want to give it to them. From time to time I hear a reasonable proposal for a project, but mostly people suggest things that involve lots of money for something that they can take care of themselves.
Three examples: First, there are many old, military towers in town from the days of French colonization that are starting to fall down. Someone suggested to me that my association pay to have them restored. Although this sort of project is not priority, I asked the guy more about what he was thinking; what the village would need to do the project. Since the buildings are made of mud and straw and dirt, I asked what materials they would need. None. So what is the money for? The guy thought that my association would pay people in my village the cost of labor to repair the buildings. This is a project that the community could easily do themselves, but they want someone to pay them to do it. Second, people have suggested that I figure out a way to lower the cost of running water in our town. People in my town currently pay about 5 Dhs per month (less than a dollar) for water, which is affordable. If they really can’t afford it, there are several springs in close proximity where they can gather water. The cost of this project, to gather water from a far spring and pipe it to our water tower, would cost some where in the neighborhood of 30,000,000 Dhs. In order to recoup the cost of the project in money saved from the water bill, it would take some 8,000 years. So it’s not a great use of funds. Finally, having nearly completed a project involving money with a local community leader, he said to me, “Give some more money.” I said, “For what?” He said, “I don’t know.”
I’ve done toothbrush and toothpaste distribution in my community and other nearby communities and I always feel a little bad about it. The cost of the toothbrush and toothpaste is really small and if people felt that dental hygiene was a priority, they could afford it. Why should I be paying for healthiness of someone else’s teeth when they can afford it? Since I mostly give toothbrushes to kids, who actually can’t afford it, I justify the practice to myself. I hope that having toothbrushes (accompanied by dental hygiene education) helps them see the benefit of dental hygiene and encourages long-term behavior change.
Food aid is irregularly given to my community by a Moroccan governmental organization. A truck pulls up in the center of town and everyone lines up to get their share. The sad part to me is that people take a) what they can afford themselves and even b) what they don’t even like. My host family took a bunch of macaroni noodles on two separate occasions. Both times they realized they didn’t like them and gave them to me. People ask me why I don’t line up with the rest of the community to get my share of food aid. I say that I have no need for it, but this is not a convincing argument for them.
Having people constantly ask others and me for foreigners makes me wonder what this begging does to their dignity. How does your self image change when you are constantly asking others for handouts?
Beyond the question of dignity, this culture of dependency prevents people from making positive changes in their community that they have do have control over. The repair of old buildings in my community is one example. Another, more important problem is the environmental one that I have discussed in past posts. Protecting the land is something that the community is entirely capable of: they have been able to survive here for hundreds of years without stressing the land. It is the increase in wealth and population that has put stress on the land. The community has abandoned previous conservation methods in favor of getting the most out of the land in the short-term. Even with the Moroccan government offering to pay the community to reforest the land, it is not enough. The solutions that I’ve heard to the land problem all involve outside organizations giving massive amounts of money. They want someone else to fix their problems, even though they are capable of fixing those problems themselves.
It’s a tough question that doesn’t have an easy answer. Peace Corps’ solution is to build the capacity of the people and the institutions here to help themselves. To empower people and give them confidence. I guess that is really the only reasonable solution. I really like projects like the traditional birth attendant training that we did because they build capacity and help people be self-sufficient. I have doubts about projects like toothbrush distribution because they reinforce the expectation of handouts. There is no community contribution. The only positive is that, hopefully, the kids learn to brush their teeth.
This is a big question that I won’t be able to answer on this blog or anywhere else. Considering that I think about working for organizations like USAID as a job, it has important implications for my career.
Update
Every week spring becomes more apparent. The fields are green now and the trees are starting to bud. Thank God.
Having the date of my vacation to the United States (May 1) draw closer is making it hard not to count the days. I’m looking forward to it greatly.
My work is going pretty well, despite the above musings. I’ve gotten to a nice point in my service where my comfort level in my community has increased significantly. Before, I always looked forward to the days that I would leave my community and go to Tounfite, where there is Internet and Americans to talk to. I still look forward to that, but I no longer take any excuse to make the trip. I’m happy enough here and have developed enough of a routine that I can pass the time. Although I still have lots of free time, it has decreased and I wish I had more (earlier in my service I had far too much time). I’ve started staying up later because I can’t get everything that I want to done. I hear about excuses to take a big trip with other volunteers and realize that I would prefer to stay here. This weekend, a number of volunteers will be gathering for a St. Patrick’s Day party some 6 hours from here. It’s nice to realize that I would rather stay here in my community than make that trip.
Before I came here, the argument that aid and government charity was pernicious because it created a culture of dependency seemed like a lame excuse. I just didn’t get why it was a problem. Saying that people needed to ‘pick themselves up by their bootstraps’ seemed unrealistic and insensitive. But seeing aid in action puts a different spin on the issue.
As a Westerner in a developing country, I’m constantly asked to give things away. People assume that Peace Corps and I have lots of money and that I want to give it to them. From time to time I hear a reasonable proposal for a project, but mostly people suggest things that involve lots of money for something that they can take care of themselves.
Three examples: First, there are many old, military towers in town from the days of French colonization that are starting to fall down. Someone suggested to me that my association pay to have them restored. Although this sort of project is not priority, I asked the guy more about what he was thinking; what the village would need to do the project. Since the buildings are made of mud and straw and dirt, I asked what materials they would need. None. So what is the money for? The guy thought that my association would pay people in my village the cost of labor to repair the buildings. This is a project that the community could easily do themselves, but they want someone to pay them to do it. Second, people have suggested that I figure out a way to lower the cost of running water in our town. People in my town currently pay about 5 Dhs per month (less than a dollar) for water, which is affordable. If they really can’t afford it, there are several springs in close proximity where they can gather water. The cost of this project, to gather water from a far spring and pipe it to our water tower, would cost some where in the neighborhood of 30,000,000 Dhs. In order to recoup the cost of the project in money saved from the water bill, it would take some 8,000 years. So it’s not a great use of funds. Finally, having nearly completed a project involving money with a local community leader, he said to me, “Give some more money.” I said, “For what?” He said, “I don’t know.”
I’ve done toothbrush and toothpaste distribution in my community and other nearby communities and I always feel a little bad about it. The cost of the toothbrush and toothpaste is really small and if people felt that dental hygiene was a priority, they could afford it. Why should I be paying for healthiness of someone else’s teeth when they can afford it? Since I mostly give toothbrushes to kids, who actually can’t afford it, I justify the practice to myself. I hope that having toothbrushes (accompanied by dental hygiene education) helps them see the benefit of dental hygiene and encourages long-term behavior change.
Food aid is irregularly given to my community by a Moroccan governmental organization. A truck pulls up in the center of town and everyone lines up to get their share. The sad part to me is that people take a) what they can afford themselves and even b) what they don’t even like. My host family took a bunch of macaroni noodles on two separate occasions. Both times they realized they didn’t like them and gave them to me. People ask me why I don’t line up with the rest of the community to get my share of food aid. I say that I have no need for it, but this is not a convincing argument for them.
Having people constantly ask others and me for foreigners makes me wonder what this begging does to their dignity. How does your self image change when you are constantly asking others for handouts?
Beyond the question of dignity, this culture of dependency prevents people from making positive changes in their community that they have do have control over. The repair of old buildings in my community is one example. Another, more important problem is the environmental one that I have discussed in past posts. Protecting the land is something that the community is entirely capable of: they have been able to survive here for hundreds of years without stressing the land. It is the increase in wealth and population that has put stress on the land. The community has abandoned previous conservation methods in favor of getting the most out of the land in the short-term. Even with the Moroccan government offering to pay the community to reforest the land, it is not enough. The solutions that I’ve heard to the land problem all involve outside organizations giving massive amounts of money. They want someone else to fix their problems, even though they are capable of fixing those problems themselves.
It’s a tough question that doesn’t have an easy answer. Peace Corps’ solution is to build the capacity of the people and the institutions here to help themselves. To empower people and give them confidence. I guess that is really the only reasonable solution. I really like projects like the traditional birth attendant training that we did because they build capacity and help people be self-sufficient. I have doubts about projects like toothbrush distribution because they reinforce the expectation of handouts. There is no community contribution. The only positive is that, hopefully, the kids learn to brush their teeth.
This is a big question that I won’t be able to answer on this blog or anywhere else. Considering that I think about working for organizations like USAID as a job, it has important implications for my career.
Update
Every week spring becomes more apparent. The fields are green now and the trees are starting to bud. Thank God.
Having the date of my vacation to the United States (May 1) draw closer is making it hard not to count the days. I’m looking forward to it greatly.
My work is going pretty well, despite the above musings. I’ve gotten to a nice point in my service where my comfort level in my community has increased significantly. Before, I always looked forward to the days that I would leave my community and go to Tounfite, where there is Internet and Americans to talk to. I still look forward to that, but I no longer take any excuse to make the trip. I’m happy enough here and have developed enough of a routine that I can pass the time. Although I still have lots of free time, it has decreased and I wish I had more (earlier in my service I had far too much time). I’ve started staying up later because I can’t get everything that I want to done. I hear about excuses to take a big trip with other volunteers and realize that I would prefer to stay here. This weekend, a number of volunteers will be gathering for a St. Patrick’s Day party some 6 hours from here. It’s nice to realize that I would rather stay here in my community than make that trip.
Friday, March 6, 2009
The Hammam
For those of you who don’t know, a hammam is a public bath. Many houses don’t have their own baths, so the hammam is an important part of Moroccan life.
The hammam in Tounfite (my market town) is open in the mornings for men and afternoons for women. There are some hammams that are big enough that they are open all day for both sexes, but not ours. There is no public hammam in my village – some families have small private hammams.
The first room in the hammam is the changing room. There are benches, cubbies, and hooks to hang your clothes. Men strip down to their underwear, grab a few buckets, and enter the warmer rooms of the hammam. Most hammams have three washing rooms, of varying warmth. The innermost room is the warmest as it normally has the hot water taps and is closest to the fire.
I always go directly to the innermost room and fill up my buckets with hot water. An important ritual is splashing hot water on the space of the floor that you will sit on before you sit down to wash. After I have my water and have cleaned the floor, I take a seat and relax.
The hammam in Tounfite is, relative to other hammams, not very warm. It’s not anywhere near as warm as a sauna in the United States. Nonetheless, it’s very comfortable and relaxing. I normally just sit and relax for a while before I begin washing. I have fallen asleep in a hammam before.
The traditional way of washing is to apply a special soap and let it sit for 10 minutes. Then you take a very rough mitt and scrub your whole body. The idea is to scrub and scrape your body hard enough to remove all the dead skin. I’ve seen people scrape layers of skin off. It’s kind of disgusting. For the hard to reach areas, people often get someone else to scrub them. Skin is often red after the scrubbing. Then you lather up with some normal soap and rinse off. Men often shave in the hammam as well.
Another interesting aspect of the hammam is the communal stretching that takes place. Given the warm atmosphere, the hammam is a nice place to do stretching. I often stretch as well. But the communal stretching in the hammams takes it to a whole other level. Body parts intertwine to create enough leverage to really stretch. There is often loud grunting coming from the stretchee as his body is contorted into positions I never thought possible. It’s difficult to describe the positions attained by the people stretching each other, but imagine joints bent at angles previously unattained and the body parts of one man indistinguishable from those of his stretching partner. If stretching were an Olympic event, this is what it would look like.
Although I haven’t experienced this aspect of the hammam, for women the hammam is a very social place. Men exchange some greetings, but there isn’t a lot of talking (hard to hear one another over the grunting coming from your stretching neighbors). From what I hear, however, women spend a lot of their time in the hammam talking. In Moroccan society, there are fewer (or no) public spaces where women can socialize, so I imagine that the hammam is a good excuse for women to get out of the house and meet with other women for a few hours. The hammam actually charges women more (6 dirhams compared with 5 for men) because they spend longer there. I’ve heard of women who come to the hammam at 1 o’clock and don’t leave until 5.
All told, the hammam is an essential Moroccan experience. It’s warm and clean – what more could you ask for?
Update
My 73 year old host dad has many illnesses, but one that troubles him the most is arthritis (at least I think it’s arthritis – he describes it by saying that his hands are closed). A traditional healer recently came to town and so my host dad went to see him. I’m pretty sure my host dad has never seen a certified doctor about his problems.
The treatment for my host dad’s illnesses (and many other illnesses) is a light burning. The healer took a hot piece of metal and burnt my host dad on three different places on his right arm. Back at the house, he had to stay inside for seven days to ensure the effectiveness of the treatment. During those seven days, he could only eat bread, tea, and eggs. Guests were not supposed to come over and generally my host dad was instructed to relax.
The seventh day was Friday the 27th. On Sunday the 1st, my host dad went to the mountain with our mule to collect branches. He was still feeling tired, but the animals needed food to eat. My host mom and I were hanging out at the house in the afternoon/evening, waiting for him to come back so we could eat dinner. He has to wait until late in the afternoon to return because the activity is illegal. But he was much later than normal in returning. It was dark outside. So my host mom and I went looking for him along the road. My host mom was really freaking out, worrying that he had died up in the mountains or there was some other catastrophe. I was a little worried as well. We ended up finding him 5 kilometers from home slowly leading the mule back. Apparently the mule had gotten away from him and he had a tough time tracking it down. He was exhausted. My host mom walked the mule the rest of the way home and I walked back with my host dad. The entire time he kept saying, “I’m tired, I’m tired.” We were walking really slowly. We got back to the house OK, but it was a worrying experience.
Other than that, all is well. The weather has gotten a little cold again, but nothing bad. My work is going well. The most exciting project is currently trying to do some HIV/AIDS education in a nearby city/town. I’ve also recently decided that I need to learn Arabic in order to improve my effectiveness. Tamazight is not the favored language once I leave my little mountain community and I’m often constrained by not speaking Arabic. Plus, I am illiterate in the operative language of the country. Fortunately, I already know a good deal of Arabic from studying in school and the overlap between Tamazight and Arabic, but I hope to get a tutor and get serious about learning the language.
The hammam in Tounfite (my market town) is open in the mornings for men and afternoons for women. There are some hammams that are big enough that they are open all day for both sexes, but not ours. There is no public hammam in my village – some families have small private hammams.
The first room in the hammam is the changing room. There are benches, cubbies, and hooks to hang your clothes. Men strip down to their underwear, grab a few buckets, and enter the warmer rooms of the hammam. Most hammams have three washing rooms, of varying warmth. The innermost room is the warmest as it normally has the hot water taps and is closest to the fire.
I always go directly to the innermost room and fill up my buckets with hot water. An important ritual is splashing hot water on the space of the floor that you will sit on before you sit down to wash. After I have my water and have cleaned the floor, I take a seat and relax.
The hammam in Tounfite is, relative to other hammams, not very warm. It’s not anywhere near as warm as a sauna in the United States. Nonetheless, it’s very comfortable and relaxing. I normally just sit and relax for a while before I begin washing. I have fallen asleep in a hammam before.
The traditional way of washing is to apply a special soap and let it sit for 10 minutes. Then you take a very rough mitt and scrub your whole body. The idea is to scrub and scrape your body hard enough to remove all the dead skin. I’ve seen people scrape layers of skin off. It’s kind of disgusting. For the hard to reach areas, people often get someone else to scrub them. Skin is often red after the scrubbing. Then you lather up with some normal soap and rinse off. Men often shave in the hammam as well.
Another interesting aspect of the hammam is the communal stretching that takes place. Given the warm atmosphere, the hammam is a nice place to do stretching. I often stretch as well. But the communal stretching in the hammams takes it to a whole other level. Body parts intertwine to create enough leverage to really stretch. There is often loud grunting coming from the stretchee as his body is contorted into positions I never thought possible. It’s difficult to describe the positions attained by the people stretching each other, but imagine joints bent at angles previously unattained and the body parts of one man indistinguishable from those of his stretching partner. If stretching were an Olympic event, this is what it would look like.
Although I haven’t experienced this aspect of the hammam, for women the hammam is a very social place. Men exchange some greetings, but there isn’t a lot of talking (hard to hear one another over the grunting coming from your stretching neighbors). From what I hear, however, women spend a lot of their time in the hammam talking. In Moroccan society, there are fewer (or no) public spaces where women can socialize, so I imagine that the hammam is a good excuse for women to get out of the house and meet with other women for a few hours. The hammam actually charges women more (6 dirhams compared with 5 for men) because they spend longer there. I’ve heard of women who come to the hammam at 1 o’clock and don’t leave until 5.
All told, the hammam is an essential Moroccan experience. It’s warm and clean – what more could you ask for?
Update
My 73 year old host dad has many illnesses, but one that troubles him the most is arthritis (at least I think it’s arthritis – he describes it by saying that his hands are closed). A traditional healer recently came to town and so my host dad went to see him. I’m pretty sure my host dad has never seen a certified doctor about his problems.
The treatment for my host dad’s illnesses (and many other illnesses) is a light burning. The healer took a hot piece of metal and burnt my host dad on three different places on his right arm. Back at the house, he had to stay inside for seven days to ensure the effectiveness of the treatment. During those seven days, he could only eat bread, tea, and eggs. Guests were not supposed to come over and generally my host dad was instructed to relax.
The seventh day was Friday the 27th. On Sunday the 1st, my host dad went to the mountain with our mule to collect branches. He was still feeling tired, but the animals needed food to eat. My host mom and I were hanging out at the house in the afternoon/evening, waiting for him to come back so we could eat dinner. He has to wait until late in the afternoon to return because the activity is illegal. But he was much later than normal in returning. It was dark outside. So my host mom and I went looking for him along the road. My host mom was really freaking out, worrying that he had died up in the mountains or there was some other catastrophe. I was a little worried as well. We ended up finding him 5 kilometers from home slowly leading the mule back. Apparently the mule had gotten away from him and he had a tough time tracking it down. He was exhausted. My host mom walked the mule the rest of the way home and I walked back with my host dad. The entire time he kept saying, “I’m tired, I’m tired.” We were walking really slowly. We got back to the house OK, but it was a worrying experience.
Other than that, all is well. The weather has gotten a little cold again, but nothing bad. My work is going well. The most exciting project is currently trying to do some HIV/AIDS education in a nearby city/town. I’ve also recently decided that I need to learn Arabic in order to improve my effectiveness. Tamazight is not the favored language once I leave my little mountain community and I’m often constrained by not speaking Arabic. Plus, I am illiterate in the operative language of the country. Fortunately, I already know a good deal of Arabic from studying in school and the overlap between Tamazight and Arabic, but I hope to get a tutor and get serious about learning the language.
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