(The downstairs entrance to the house... Remember, we live upstairs)
(Our privacy curtain shielding the doors to our bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom)
(Our bedroom)
(Our first meal in our new kitchen!)
Thursday, July 28, 2011
New Apartment!
We are very proud and excited to announce that, as of this past Monday, we have officially moved into our OWN place! Though we're still in the process of furnishing it, here are a few pictures to give you an idea of our new digs:
(The downstairs entrance to the house... Remember, we live upstairs)
(Our privacy curtain shielding the doors to our bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom)
(Our bedroom)
(Our first meal in our new kitchen!)
(The downstairs entrance to the house... Remember, we live upstairs)
(Our privacy curtain shielding the doors to our bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom)
(Our bedroom)
(Our first meal in our new kitchen!)
Monday, July 4, 2011
A day in the life of...
...Given the extreme heat, bed bugs, stomach problems, hoards of flies, barking dogs, crying babies, breighing donkeys, cawing roosters, dirt falling on us from rogue dogs prancing above our earthen roof, geckos chirping in the ceiling, and the 4am "call to prayer" via loud speakers at multiple mosques in the valley, we are lucky to get 8 hours of sleep from about 12-1am (shortly after we finish dinner with our host family) until 9-10am. First, we clean up. Unlike many other people we've seen here, our host family brushes their teeth and washes their faces on a regular basis. Nevertheless, I worry because they seldom use soap, and clean up using well-water supplied in little buckets that are also used for rinsing feet and hands after using the outdoor pit latrine.
We eat a breakfast of homemade bread and butter derived from our host family's cow and wheat from their own fields, which is made using fairly simple methods (i.e. earthen furnace with iron barrel lid as bread pan). We drink 2-3 cups of mint tea per meal that is made with dangerously (i.e. for heart and teeth) high amounts of sugar. We practice our Tashlhiyt language skills with our host family (i.e. Uncle Hassan, Aunt Khadija, 12 year-old brother Abdullah, 23 year-old sister Karima, and 30 year-old sister Zahira with new baby, Ryan) because that's the only way we can communicate with people.
Second breakfast is usually at 11am and consists of mint tea, eggs, bread, olive oil, french fries, and or fried green peppers, which are all locally grown by our family. The biggest meal, lunch, is a tagine (meat, oil, and veggie mixture with bread) that occurs between 2-5 pm. This is followed by afternoon snack/tea between 6-8 pm, and usually a dinner of bland milk noodles or tagine around 10-12pm. A healthy dessert of homemade juice (i.e. beet/orange or cucumber/orange), or some kind of melon, is usually served following lunch and dinner. At all meals, we are seated on the floor with other family members around one dish, from which all people eat primarily with their right hand. The left hand, which is used for wiping after latrine usage, is seldom used, but sometimes to tear bread and meat for group distribution (i.e. Good idea for sanitation workshop). Prior to eating, a bucket of water, sometimes with soap, is passed around for rinsing the hands clean, and one towel has the dual purpose of drying hands and serving as communal napkin. I admit that the abundance of oily starchy foods, the frequency and timing of consumption, and the low sanitation standards are not easy for me or Alex to adjust to, but we remain polite, grateful, and tolerant through and through.
Depending on the weather and whether or not our counterpart/host brother is able to come in to the office from Marrakech, next Alex and I either work from our room at our host family's house, or we walk a few km to the office. Our workday normally consists of the following: write emails to associations, translate and review associations' documents (e.g., feasibility studies, scopes of work, environmental impact reports), and make planning/guidance documents for organizing meetings and capacity building/training events. If we go to the office, we are surrounded by a melange of languages. French is the common language of the office, but coworkers can be heard communicating to each other in French, Arabic, Tashlhiyt, German, or English. We have found that the most efficient way to overcome language barriers is to type technical documents in our language of choice, and then use google translator to convert to something we can understand. Even so, there is great potential for misunderstandings.
With respect to “work”, we are still adjusting to the slower paced and indirect style of business interactions here in the country, which has much less emphasis on productivity and efficiency than we are used to in the US. Granted, it is quite nice not having to deal with the stress that comes with the up-tight, competitive, performance-oriented business culture of the US. I have found that people are much more oriented towards the value of building relationships with family and friends, rather than the value of their paycheck (i.e. working to live rather than living to work). In our community, 1-3 days of the work week are spent in time traveling and shopping for living necessities at the souk (i.e. weekly caravan markets that have pretty much everything you can think of). In addition to multiple snack/tea breaks throughout the day, there is also an afternoon nap built into the schedule...very refreshing!
Hmmam (bucket bath) day is usually on Friday, which is also the day of prayer, when Muslims spend more time praying than their normal 5 times/day (a very dedicated people). As for the hammam, it is like a small 1 person sauna made of concrete that we build a fire under to induce extremely hot temperatures. Keep in mind that the temperature during the day this time of year is on average about 105ºF, and so far the temperature has already gotten up to 120°F. Now add a fire and buckets of near boiling water for rinsing, and you've got a 1-2 hour detox session in a human sized oven. I can only imagine how dangerous this practice will be in August during Ramadan, the month-long religious holiday of fasting, when it will be even hotter and there is not any eating or drinking allowed during daylight hours. I guess bathing in the hmmam once a week is more than enough when you consider how exhausting it is to get clean.
Leisurely time is spent socializing (imagine lots of hand gestures, looks of confusion, and laughing) with our host family and neighbors. We also spend time strolling through the gardens, strumming my gimbri on the roof, hiking and climbing on the sizzling hot rocks above the house, or sitting on the floor in the family room where there are always soap operas playing in the background. The soaps are usually Turkish or Bollywoood soap operas translated to Arabic. My favorite is the Saudi Arabian soaps in which men have to deal with multiple wives vying for their attention and resources, which is legal according to Islam and culturally acceptable. On this last point, I have been reading an English translation of the Koran per recommendation of our Tashlhiyt tutor, and am learning the reason why there are so many cultural differences between predominantly Islamic Morocco and predominantly Christian America. I think I will go more in depth about this subject during the month of Ramadan, when we hear that life pretty much slows to a halt.
Alex and I have slept on the roof a few times to avoid the heat and bed bugs in our bedroom. Although we wake up earlier than normal due to sunrise, when falling to sleep, it is quite nice to stare at the milky way (i.e. little to no light pollution means we can see a lot more stars than we are used to in the eastern US) and wishing on all the shooting stars we see (~8/night). Near our house, we also found a quiet swimming hole on the river/creek that has been created via a miniature hand-made cobblestone dam. In the river are tons of frogs, turtles, and snakes. With respect to wildlife sounds, imagine that by day we are serenaded by the sweet sounds of hundreds of song birds coming from the gardens, and at night we are lulled to sleep by a huge chorus of frogs.
For the most part, we are getting along well with our host family, but we are really missing privacy and independent living (e.g., making our own meals, and bathing, eating and coming/going when we want). Luckily, we recently found a very nice apartment to rent in a duplex, and we are really excited about our friendly new neighbors, a rooftop patio, and the duplex's relative proximity to rock-climbing areas and our office. Unfortunately, the house is still under construction, and so we won't be able to move in for another 1-4 weeks. This is a little upsetting considering that the fellow Peace Corps Volunteers whom we've kept up with have already moved into their new houses and apartments. Even after we move in, we will have to share the house for an additional 2 months with the owner and his family because every year he returns home from his work in Casablanca to be near his family members for Ramadan. This means that we will have been living out of our back packs for 6-7 months before we get finally get a place of our own....a place to unpack our bags and develop our own routines again.
Here's a funny story you: Earlier this week Alex and I made a spaghetti dinner for our host family with enough food to feed our family, a few neighbors, and the visiting husband of one of our host sisters (9 people total). Unfortunately only 4 of them ate of the food because they claimed they were full from snack. One person was brave enough to admit that the noodles had a problem because of the tomatoes on top. Apparently, tomato sauce on spaghetti is not common around here, and noodles are usually only topped with milk and butter. Regardless, Alex and I enjoyed the meal with its plethora of crisp veggies, and planned to save it for later consumption. Unfortunately the next day, I noticed that the large plate was set outside the refrigerator with hoards of flies swarming around it. When I asked my host mom why it was uncovered and not in the refrigerator, she said that she was going to feed it to the chickens. I told her that "No, the food is for people, not for chickens," and promptly put it back in the fridge. At this point, my host mom looked at me questioningly and said, "But the chickens eat the food and we eat the chickens, so no problem right?" Later, during snack time they asked if I wanted to eat it, to which I replied yes. After I finished eating, they told me that it was dangerous to eat "that food", and when I asked why, they told me that the electricity had been out since the day before, and thus the refrigerator hadn't been working. I now have diarrhea....doh! At least now I know that it is most likely the intermittent electrical supply that explains my previous bouts of vomitting and diarrhea. I have heard awful stories of other Peace Corps volunteers who have made a friend for life with an intestinal parasite...YIKES!
Despite all the challenges (many not addressed in this forum for fear of offending potential readers) with adapting to rural life in a developing country, Morocco is AWESOME, and I am incredibly happy with the type of international development work we are doing here. The pristine environmental setting, the hospitality of the people, and the cultural exchange is incredible, and we feel truly blessed to have this opportunity, which is unlike anything we've ever experienced before. We are very happy with the relationships we are forming through work opportunities and participation in our host family's daily routines (e.g. caring for animals, helping with meal preparation/clean-up, capacity building with local assocations). Even though we have some difficult experiences ahead, we are hopeful that we will have the strength to overcome the challenges involved with our work here and with our absence from friends and family in the states.
Here are a few photos to recap:
View of village Timzgida from our host family's roof-top.
Host family's courtyard with herb garden at center, and our bedroom is the center block.
Host sister, Zaiera, carrying bucket of fresh milk, and host mom carrying Zaiera's baby.
Host mom squeezing honey from honeycomb which she just retrieved from the hive on top of their house.
Host brother cheesing with the gimbri I bought in Ait Ben Haddou.
Host mom standing outside the hammam. Note fig tree (left) and cactus (right).
Our Tashlhiyt language tutor and eminent sage, Abdlah.
Alex hand washing her clothes.
Helping Abdellah cart doo doo out of the goat/cow/rabbit/donkey pin for fertilizer.
The family/bedroom.
Earthen oven.
Our posh bedroom (We are the only ones with privacy and an elevated bed in the house).
Host family's kitchen.
Propane stove with tagine dish.
Outdoor pit latrin
Jon saluting the moon on the mountain behind our new apartment.
"Peacing-out" on a boulder with our host sister Karima and some neighborhood friends.
Exercising via a 500 foot long limestone traverse behind our host family's house.
Our fancy new office. I hope it is used more after the summer heat burns off.
TADAA...after months of waiting, our new home! The left half of the house contains our apartment!
Covered in flies but still smilin,
Jonathan
We eat a breakfast of homemade bread and butter derived from our host family's cow and wheat from their own fields, which is made using fairly simple methods (i.e. earthen furnace with iron barrel lid as bread pan). We drink 2-3 cups of mint tea per meal that is made with dangerously (i.e. for heart and teeth) high amounts of sugar. We practice our Tashlhiyt language skills with our host family (i.e. Uncle Hassan, Aunt Khadija, 12 year-old brother Abdullah, 23 year-old sister Karima, and 30 year-old sister Zahira with new baby, Ryan) because that's the only way we can communicate with people.
Second breakfast is usually at 11am and consists of mint tea, eggs, bread, olive oil, french fries, and or fried green peppers, which are all locally grown by our family. The biggest meal, lunch, is a tagine (meat, oil, and veggie mixture with bread) that occurs between 2-5 pm. This is followed by afternoon snack/tea between 6-8 pm, and usually a dinner of bland milk noodles or tagine around 10-12pm. A healthy dessert of homemade juice (i.e. beet/orange or cucumber/orange), or some kind of melon, is usually served following lunch and dinner. At all meals, we are seated on the floor with other family members around one dish, from which all people eat primarily with their right hand. The left hand, which is used for wiping after latrine usage, is seldom used, but sometimes to tear bread and meat for group distribution (i.e. Good idea for sanitation workshop). Prior to eating, a bucket of water, sometimes with soap, is passed around for rinsing the hands clean, and one towel has the dual purpose of drying hands and serving as communal napkin. I admit that the abundance of oily starchy foods, the frequency and timing of consumption, and the low sanitation standards are not easy for me or Alex to adjust to, but we remain polite, grateful, and tolerant through and through.
Depending on the weather and whether or not our counterpart/host brother is able to come in to the office from Marrakech, next Alex and I either work from our room at our host family's house, or we walk a few km to the office. Our workday normally consists of the following: write emails to associations, translate and review associations' documents (e.g., feasibility studies, scopes of work, environmental impact reports), and make planning/guidance documents for organizing meetings and capacity building/training events. If we go to the office, we are surrounded by a melange of languages. French is the common language of the office, but coworkers can be heard communicating to each other in French, Arabic, Tashlhiyt, German, or English. We have found that the most efficient way to overcome language barriers is to type technical documents in our language of choice, and then use google translator to convert to something we can understand. Even so, there is great potential for misunderstandings.
With respect to “work”, we are still adjusting to the slower paced and indirect style of business interactions here in the country, which has much less emphasis on productivity and efficiency than we are used to in the US. Granted, it is quite nice not having to deal with the stress that comes with the up-tight, competitive, performance-oriented business culture of the US. I have found that people are much more oriented towards the value of building relationships with family and friends, rather than the value of their paycheck (i.e. working to live rather than living to work). In our community, 1-3 days of the work week are spent in time traveling and shopping for living necessities at the souk (i.e. weekly caravan markets that have pretty much everything you can think of). In addition to multiple snack/tea breaks throughout the day, there is also an afternoon nap built into the schedule...very refreshing!
Hmmam (bucket bath) day is usually on Friday, which is also the day of prayer, when Muslims spend more time praying than their normal 5 times/day (a very dedicated people). As for the hammam, it is like a small 1 person sauna made of concrete that we build a fire under to induce extremely hot temperatures. Keep in mind that the temperature during the day this time of year is on average about 105ºF, and so far the temperature has already gotten up to 120°F. Now add a fire and buckets of near boiling water for rinsing, and you've got a 1-2 hour detox session in a human sized oven. I can only imagine how dangerous this practice will be in August during Ramadan, the month-long religious holiday of fasting, when it will be even hotter and there is not any eating or drinking allowed during daylight hours. I guess bathing in the hmmam once a week is more than enough when you consider how exhausting it is to get clean.
Leisurely time is spent socializing (imagine lots of hand gestures, looks of confusion, and laughing) with our host family and neighbors. We also spend time strolling through the gardens, strumming my gimbri on the roof, hiking and climbing on the sizzling hot rocks above the house, or sitting on the floor in the family room where there are always soap operas playing in the background. The soaps are usually Turkish or Bollywoood soap operas translated to Arabic. My favorite is the Saudi Arabian soaps in which men have to deal with multiple wives vying for their attention and resources, which is legal according to Islam and culturally acceptable. On this last point, I have been reading an English translation of the Koran per recommendation of our Tashlhiyt tutor, and am learning the reason why there are so many cultural differences between predominantly Islamic Morocco and predominantly Christian America. I think I will go more in depth about this subject during the month of Ramadan, when we hear that life pretty much slows to a halt.
Alex and I have slept on the roof a few times to avoid the heat and bed bugs in our bedroom. Although we wake up earlier than normal due to sunrise, when falling to sleep, it is quite nice to stare at the milky way (i.e. little to no light pollution means we can see a lot more stars than we are used to in the eastern US) and wishing on all the shooting stars we see (~8/night). Near our house, we also found a quiet swimming hole on the river/creek that has been created via a miniature hand-made cobblestone dam. In the river are tons of frogs, turtles, and snakes. With respect to wildlife sounds, imagine that by day we are serenaded by the sweet sounds of hundreds of song birds coming from the gardens, and at night we are lulled to sleep by a huge chorus of frogs.
For the most part, we are getting along well with our host family, but we are really missing privacy and independent living (e.g., making our own meals, and bathing, eating and coming/going when we want). Luckily, we recently found a very nice apartment to rent in a duplex, and we are really excited about our friendly new neighbors, a rooftop patio, and the duplex's relative proximity to rock-climbing areas and our office. Unfortunately, the house is still under construction, and so we won't be able to move in for another 1-4 weeks. This is a little upsetting considering that the fellow Peace Corps Volunteers whom we've kept up with have already moved into their new houses and apartments. Even after we move in, we will have to share the house for an additional 2 months with the owner and his family because every year he returns home from his work in Casablanca to be near his family members for Ramadan. This means that we will have been living out of our back packs for 6-7 months before we get finally get a place of our own....a place to unpack our bags and develop our own routines again.
Here's a funny story you: Earlier this week Alex and I made a spaghetti dinner for our host family with enough food to feed our family, a few neighbors, and the visiting husband of one of our host sisters (9 people total). Unfortunately only 4 of them ate of the food because they claimed they were full from snack. One person was brave enough to admit that the noodles had a problem because of the tomatoes on top. Apparently, tomato sauce on spaghetti is not common around here, and noodles are usually only topped with milk and butter. Regardless, Alex and I enjoyed the meal with its plethora of crisp veggies, and planned to save it for later consumption. Unfortunately the next day, I noticed that the large plate was set outside the refrigerator with hoards of flies swarming around it. When I asked my host mom why it was uncovered and not in the refrigerator, she said that she was going to feed it to the chickens. I told her that "No, the food is for people, not for chickens," and promptly put it back in the fridge. At this point, my host mom looked at me questioningly and said, "But the chickens eat the food and we eat the chickens, so no problem right?" Later, during snack time they asked if I wanted to eat it, to which I replied yes. After I finished eating, they told me that it was dangerous to eat "that food", and when I asked why, they told me that the electricity had been out since the day before, and thus the refrigerator hadn't been working. I now have diarrhea....doh! At least now I know that it is most likely the intermittent electrical supply that explains my previous bouts of vomitting and diarrhea. I have heard awful stories of other Peace Corps volunteers who have made a friend for life with an intestinal parasite...YIKES!
Despite all the challenges (many not addressed in this forum for fear of offending potential readers) with adapting to rural life in a developing country, Morocco is AWESOME, and I am incredibly happy with the type of international development work we are doing here. The pristine environmental setting, the hospitality of the people, and the cultural exchange is incredible, and we feel truly blessed to have this opportunity, which is unlike anything we've ever experienced before. We are very happy with the relationships we are forming through work opportunities and participation in our host family's daily routines (e.g. caring for animals, helping with meal preparation/clean-up, capacity building with local assocations). Even though we have some difficult experiences ahead, we are hopeful that we will have the strength to overcome the challenges involved with our work here and with our absence from friends and family in the states.
Here are a few photos to recap:
View of village Timzgida from our host family's roof-top.
Host family's courtyard with herb garden at center, and our bedroom is the center block.
Host sister, Zaiera, carrying bucket of fresh milk, and host mom carrying Zaiera's baby.
Host mom squeezing honey from honeycomb which she just retrieved from the hive on top of their house.
Host brother cheesing with the gimbri I bought in Ait Ben Haddou.
Host mom standing outside the hammam. Note fig tree (left) and cactus (right).
Our Tashlhiyt language tutor and eminent sage, Abdlah.
Alex hand washing her clothes.
Helping Abdellah cart doo doo out of the goat/cow/rabbit/donkey pin for fertilizer.
The family/bedroom.
Earthen oven.
Our posh bedroom (We are the only ones with privacy and an elevated bed in the house).
Host family's kitchen.
Propane stove with tagine dish.
Outdoor pit latrin
Jon saluting the moon on the mountain behind our new apartment.
"Peacing-out" on a boulder with our host sister Karima and some neighborhood friends.
Exercising via a 500 foot long limestone traverse behind our host family's house.
Our fancy new office. I hope it is used more after the summer heat burns off.
TADAA...after months of waiting, our new home! The left half of the house contains our apartment!
Covered in flies but still smilin,
Jonathan
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
To Market, To Market
Tuesday is a big day, market day. Actually, we have 3 market days, but Tuesday's is the largest. Every Tuesday, people from all over the region pile into vans, buses and taxis and head to the Ait Ourir souk (translation: market). On any other given day, cars will take you into the city center of Ait Ourir, where there's a bank, a post office, a few shops, cafes, and a grand taxi stand for getting to other places like Marrakech. But not on Tuesdays. On Tuesdays, all transportation takes you to the outer edge of Ait Ourir, a place deserted every other day of the week. On Tuesdays, this side of town is where it's all at.
Two weeks ago, Jon and I decided it was time to learn how to navigate our own way to and through the market. It might not sound like such a big task, but learning how to get what you need and where to get it is one of the greatest initial challenges of any Peace Corps volunteer. We planned to keep our purchases to a minimum, just to avoid any major frustrations should we not be able to locate something. But to add to our relatively short list, we arranged to have lunch at souk with our host father, Xali Hassan (translation: Uncle Hassan), who cooks tagine at souk every week. During our site visit in May, we had been given a brief tour of the market layout, and even eaten at the cafe where Xali Hassan cooks. We thought, "We can surely find him, inchallah," (translation: God willing).
Inchallah, indeed! We left our host family's house around 9:30 in the morning, and began our 3 km walk into Timzalit, the closest town to get transportation. At any given time of day, the walk to Timzalit is beautiful. We walk through Timzguida to the start of the cliff, just at the river's edge. Even in the heat of the day (which nowadays is around 105 °F), the view of the valley from the bridge is worth stopping for. Once across the river, the shade of olive and fig trees lining the fields is a welcomed changed of temperature. Popping up on the other side of the fields, Timzalit straddles the only road we use for transportation outside of the commune. Left to Ait Ourir, right to Tighedouine, and straight to Touama.
It's quite easy to find a ride on souk day. The only complication is finding the right one. Some vans are for vendors only. I have yet to figure out how to tell the difference between the white vendors-only vans and the white all-aboard vans. We just wait to see which one the most people pile into, and then we get in line. It is not uncommon for one typically 8 passenger van to seat 12-18 people. Though perhaps not the safest way to travel, it's the surest way to get to souk.
When we arrive in Ait Ourir, the first thing we do is clear away from the road as quickly as possible. For all the traffic that comes in and out of the area, there is no parking lot. The road's edge at souk is packed with vans, buses, cars, and taxis, not to mention carts and horse-pulled buggies. Once in the clear, there is but a small moment for a sigh of relief before being swept up into the foot traffic of the market. Think of the check-out lines at toy stores and bulk superstores on Black Friday, and you might come close to imagining the aisles at souk. Jon says it reminds him of the loitering crowds and barnyard animals found at a county fair. Vendors lay out their goods over sheets, in buckets, on tables, and hanging from tents. Since there are no fixed prices, people shout prices from one end of an aisle to another. Sheep and goats are shuffled along as they pass to new owners. Men and boys wheel carts full of things like nuts and bolts or cigarettes through clusters of people, all trying to collect or sell their weekly groceries.
So, how do we find that one cafe where we ate with Xali Hassan last time? "Let's just see how it goes," my suggestion to Jon as we peered into the mass of tents. We made our way through the first few turns on memory, but once we got to a main aisle, we knew we needed some help. After asking a few people, "Manza tifiyyi?" (translation: Where is the meat?), we found the butchers' section (side note: directions come in the form of "go straight to the rugs, go past the spices, and turn left at the plastics"). The sight of all the meat and butchering tables is not exactly pleasant, so we decided to wait next to the fish vendors on the outer edge of the "tifiyyi" to have Xali Hassan meet us there. It turned out we were almost correct in navigating our way to the cafe; one small turn will not be missed next time!
After eating tagine made especially by our host father, Xali Hassan led us to the fruit section of the market to begin our grocery shopping. We figured we'd be fine choosing the fruit for ourselves, but Xali Hassan knew better. Here we are, two very obvious foreigners, standing in the middle of a giant market? Easy target for making a few dirhams. I can't really blame people for wanting to charge us more than the typical price per kilo of apples, but we have to remember that we are paid a fixed low income equal to the average standard of living in our village, and we can't really afford to be scammed every time we buy something. Thankfully, Xali Hassan showed us to a vendor with good-looking fruit and decent prices, and helped us purchase the few bags of fruit we came for. Thank you, Xali Hassan! And even though a grocery cart might be nice sometimes, there's a sort of satisfaction in buying only what you can carry.
We shopped around on our own for a few treats (dried figs, plums, and apricots), but the rest of our time at souk was spent just taking it all in. It's easy to get swept up in the fast pace of walking and bargaining, but it really is quite the place to learn the local culture and customs if you only relax and look around. The term "grocery shopping" does not mean a quick trip to the nearest store with the best deals of the week. It's a time to talk with new people and learn new things, a time to drink tea with friends, and a time to hand-pick your groceries from the source.
It's difficult to really capture everything we're experiencing, the sites, the smells, the people. Hopefully this gives just a bit of insight into our daily lives. More to come soon!
Love,
alexandra
** Since we are still getting comfortable with our new shopping environment, we haven't taken any pictures of the market just yet. But we'll try and take some to post after next week's market!
Two weeks ago, Jon and I decided it was time to learn how to navigate our own way to and through the market. It might not sound like such a big task, but learning how to get what you need and where to get it is one of the greatest initial challenges of any Peace Corps volunteer. We planned to keep our purchases to a minimum, just to avoid any major frustrations should we not be able to locate something. But to add to our relatively short list, we arranged to have lunch at souk with our host father, Xali Hassan (translation: Uncle Hassan), who cooks tagine at souk every week. During our site visit in May, we had been given a brief tour of the market layout, and even eaten at the cafe where Xali Hassan cooks. We thought, "We can surely find him, inchallah," (translation: God willing).
Inchallah, indeed! We left our host family's house around 9:30 in the morning, and began our 3 km walk into Timzalit, the closest town to get transportation. At any given time of day, the walk to Timzalit is beautiful. We walk through Timzguida to the start of the cliff, just at the river's edge. Even in the heat of the day (which nowadays is around 105 °F), the view of the valley from the bridge is worth stopping for. Once across the river, the shade of olive and fig trees lining the fields is a welcomed changed of temperature. Popping up on the other side of the fields, Timzalit straddles the only road we use for transportation outside of the commune. Left to Ait Ourir, right to Tighedouine, and straight to Touama.
It's quite easy to find a ride on souk day. The only complication is finding the right one. Some vans are for vendors only. I have yet to figure out how to tell the difference between the white vendors-only vans and the white all-aboard vans. We just wait to see which one the most people pile into, and then we get in line. It is not uncommon for one typically 8 passenger van to seat 12-18 people. Though perhaps not the safest way to travel, it's the surest way to get to souk.
When we arrive in Ait Ourir, the first thing we do is clear away from the road as quickly as possible. For all the traffic that comes in and out of the area, there is no parking lot. The road's edge at souk is packed with vans, buses, cars, and taxis, not to mention carts and horse-pulled buggies. Once in the clear, there is but a small moment for a sigh of relief before being swept up into the foot traffic of the market. Think of the check-out lines at toy stores and bulk superstores on Black Friday, and you might come close to imagining the aisles at souk. Jon says it reminds him of the loitering crowds and barnyard animals found at a county fair. Vendors lay out their goods over sheets, in buckets, on tables, and hanging from tents. Since there are no fixed prices, people shout prices from one end of an aisle to another. Sheep and goats are shuffled along as they pass to new owners. Men and boys wheel carts full of things like nuts and bolts or cigarettes through clusters of people, all trying to collect or sell their weekly groceries.
So, how do we find that one cafe where we ate with Xali Hassan last time? "Let's just see how it goes," my suggestion to Jon as we peered into the mass of tents. We made our way through the first few turns on memory, but once we got to a main aisle, we knew we needed some help. After asking a few people, "Manza tifiyyi?" (translation: Where is the meat?), we found the butchers' section (side note: directions come in the form of "go straight to the rugs, go past the spices, and turn left at the plastics"). The sight of all the meat and butchering tables is not exactly pleasant, so we decided to wait next to the fish vendors on the outer edge of the "tifiyyi" to have Xali Hassan meet us there. It turned out we were almost correct in navigating our way to the cafe; one small turn will not be missed next time!
After eating tagine made especially by our host father, Xali Hassan led us to the fruit section of the market to begin our grocery shopping. We figured we'd be fine choosing the fruit for ourselves, but Xali Hassan knew better. Here we are, two very obvious foreigners, standing in the middle of a giant market? Easy target for making a few dirhams. I can't really blame people for wanting to charge us more than the typical price per kilo of apples, but we have to remember that we are paid a fixed low income equal to the average standard of living in our village, and we can't really afford to be scammed every time we buy something. Thankfully, Xali Hassan showed us to a vendor with good-looking fruit and decent prices, and helped us purchase the few bags of fruit we came for. Thank you, Xali Hassan! And even though a grocery cart might be nice sometimes, there's a sort of satisfaction in buying only what you can carry.
We shopped around on our own for a few treats (dried figs, plums, and apricots), but the rest of our time at souk was spent just taking it all in. It's easy to get swept up in the fast pace of walking and bargaining, but it really is quite the place to learn the local culture and customs if you only relax and look around. The term "grocery shopping" does not mean a quick trip to the nearest store with the best deals of the week. It's a time to talk with new people and learn new things, a time to drink tea with friends, and a time to hand-pick your groceries from the source.
It's difficult to really capture everything we're experiencing, the sites, the smells, the people. Hopefully this gives just a bit of insight into our daily lives. More to come soon!
Love,
alexandra
** Since we are still getting comfortable with our new shopping environment, we haven't taken any pictures of the market just yet. But we'll try and take some to post after next week's market!
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Busy little bees
From Peace Corps swearing-in and training in Ourzazate to a USAID workshop in Rabat to a CDRT (Center for Development of Tensift Region) meeting in Marrakech, in the past week, Alex and I have been hopping all over Morocco. Now that we're back in Timzgida with our new USB dial-up modem, we can give some updates about how we're getting down to business. Amongst looking for houses to rent, finding a French language tutor, obtaining a Carte de Sjour (like work visa), establishing a P.O. box, studying Tashlhiyt, completing Peace Corps paperwork, reviewing Tissilt Association project documents, integrating into our local community, and figuring out/implementing all of these new development tools; we've been pretty busy. Fortunately, we feel very well supported, and surprisingly, we've had very few misunderstandings with our partners, counterparts, and host family. In a word...Awesome!
We'll be helping the Tissilt Association move into their new big office this week, and we hope to take some pictures to show you where we'll be working.
Best,
Jonathan
We'll be helping the Tissilt Association move into their new big office this week, and we hope to take some pictures to show you where we'll be working.
Best,
Jonathan
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Mawazine music
Alex and I just met up with some 1 and 2 year Peace Corps Volunteers to see a band on the Atlantic Coast of Rabat after drinking some delicious sweet mint tea. We listened to Staff Bendi Bilili, a band of musicians from the Congo crippled by Polio...they were fantastic, energizing, and great to dance to. Here's a few songs to check out:
Their story song with subtitles:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KzCUcO_d1qI
Their real concert sound:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JtVZhaZp6Ng&feature=related
1st time in Rabat and lovin the coastal sunsets already...we waved hi to all our friends across the ocean today =)
Time to get some sleep as USAID workshops start early tomorrow...it's going to be interesting learning our other boss's expectations...
-J
Their story song with subtitles:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KzCUcO_d1qI
Their real concert sound:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JtVZhaZp6Ng&feature=related
1st time in Rabat and lovin the coastal sunsets already...we waved hi to all our friends across the ocean today =)
Time to get some sleep as USAID workshops start early tomorrow...it's going to be interesting learning our other boss's expectations...
-J
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Video
Berber jam session...our host dad (blue scarf) is playing the lotar just left of the village president, who is playing the ribob, a one-stringed violin.
Jawel slappin on the gimbri.
High cliff view of our new village and surroundings at Timzgida.
Success!
Success! Alex and I passed our language proficiency exams, and can happily report that we are speaking Tashlhiyt at an intermediate level after only 2 months of intensive training. In addition to our language success, we are also really pleased with our training projects which proved beneficial to the community at Ait Ben Haddou. We hosted an environmental education day and trash cleanup with 60 local children, conducted a grant writing workshop, and helped coordinate a capacity building workshop for the local association via training by another successful association in the region. We also helped the community to obtain 6 trash cans for the town. Thanks to all of our friends and community partners in Ait Ben Haddou for helping us adapt to the wonderful Moroccan way of life and prepare us for successful projects at our new site! Now that we've finished our training months and said our goodbyes to our training group and host family, we'll be sworn in as official Peace Corps Volunteers on May 25th, 2011. Next, Alex and I are headed off to Rabat for USAID workshops. Also while in Rabat, we will be attending the Mowazine International Music Festival, with such headliners as Joe Cocker, Cat Stevens, Shakira, Nelly Fertado, Elton John, Lyonel Richie, Kayne West, and several other famous musicians from all around the world (http://www.festivalmawazine.ma/en.html). The BEST PART...it's FREE (i.e. Government sponsored)! Beginning in June, we'll be starting our new lives in Timzgida (translation: Place of Worship). We will find a house to rent there, and will then open our PO Boxes (Yeah for care-packages ;-).
Here's a pictoral recap of our last month of training:
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| Many evenings after class were spent rock-climbing on the garden boulders |
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| Me protecting my girl in ABC Osh-gosh overalls. I made this in-between study sessions. |
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| Mehdi's pigeon (translation: atbir) that he caught coming out of a hole in the wall (He waited for days). |
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| Goats and sheep on the cliff over-looking our new village, Timzgida. |
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| Back at Ait Ben Haddou with fellow PCV, Sara, Alex, and my best Moroccan friend, Jawel. Jawel said this hike was "insane kilometer"...about 20. |
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| Initial segment of environmental education day, with me presenting a poster I made on the benefits of throwing litter in trash cans (i.e. less litter = more tourists = more benefits for families that rely on tourism). Alex's segment was presenting the kids with environmental photos from the community that were either littered or clean, and then asking them to pick which photos they thought were good and which ones were bad. |
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| Alex's litter pick-up crew with kasbah in background. We had 60 kids all together picking up trash, and afterwards we threw them a juice, cookie, and comedy skit party...SO MUCH FUN! |
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| My friend Jawel is a wood-worker that owns and operates a Genawa music shop in the kasbah, and he hooked me up with some really nice pieces (e.g. a gimbri, a traditional barn door lock, and mini-kasbah figurines) that he made. In this photo you can see the door locks on his shop wall and the gimbri (yellow painted man with goat on head) that I bought. Many days after class, I would hang out with Jawel, and he taught me how to play the gimbri and lotar. |
Best,
Jonathan
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