Traveling As A PCV In Morocco

I still have a couple of weeks of vacation time left. Given that I'm nearing the end of my Peace Corps service, I've got to use my vacation time now, if I'm going to use it. Therefore, I've been traveling this week. At the beginning of the week, I visited a friend, Bill, who lives north of my town. He showed me around his town. Since he's a PCV (Peace Corps Volunteer) who works in small business development, he was introducing me to women who have been learning how to make shoes, weave rugs and baskets, and make keftans (long Moroccan women's robes) and handkerchiefs. In addition to giving me the tour of his town, he also hosted me in his apartment until the next day. I was grateful for his hospitality and generosity. Since it's been getting hot, I especially appreciated how he served another PCV and me cold watermelon and green cantaloupe.

Later in the week, I was happy to visit a Franciscan monastery. I managed to make it there for a service at 7:15 a.m. It was all in French, so I understood very little of it. I'd previously attended masses in French here in Morocco, but for some reason I seemed to encounter a particular difficulty which I don't recall experiencing on prior occasions. I found singing hymns in French more difficult than I'd expected. Later I considered that when singing in English, I'm not only reading the words, I'm also looking to see if the notes go up or down in the songs. Then I realized that when trying to sing in French, I'm struggling with words I don't know in French as an added element on top of trying to read and seeing whether the notes go up or down. But I was glad to be worshipping God with other Christians, since I don't get to do so with other Christians much here.

After the service, I spoke with the expatriate Franciscan monks and nuns who live in the monastery. They were very warm and friendly. I told them that I've benefited considerably from having a lot of time to read while living here. Consequently I've devoted much time to opening the door for God, to trying to place myself before God, so as to be receptive to what God is saying to me. I often think of Revelation 3:20 as a reminder to approach my relationship with God in this way. I was grateful to these monks and nuns for their implicit support of me and other Christians in our walk of faith and path in trying to emulate Jesus.

A couple of the elderly nuns were especially sweet, continuing to clasp my hand as they spoke with me. As I spoke with one of them, I was finding it difficult to speak in French, since I've been infrequently speaking French. She told me to speak in Darija, which was much easier!

After not too long, I was parting ways with the monks and nuns. As I was saying goodbye to them, one of the elderly nuns called me "Xuya," which is Darija, or Moroccan Arabic, for "my brother," as she next further noted that we're all brothers and sisters.

After I bid adieu to the monks and nuns, I caught a bus so I could continue further north on my journey. I was happy to be able to take a bus with the CTM bus company. CTM buses are nicer, and newer, than most other buses here in Morocco. In addition to also being more reliable than a lot of other buses, they're also air-conditioned, unlike many other buses here in Morocco. As I traveled north, I enjoyed more beautiful scenery, including green meadows giving way to hills covered with evergreen trees. In this area of Morocco, snow covers the ground in winter. But this month, there was no snow on the ground there, unlike when I traveled the same route on my way to PPST (Post-Pre-Service Training) back in February 2011.

This time as I approached Azrou, although I didn't see any snow, in addition to the green meadows, I also saw purple and yellow flowers. At one point, the bus slowed down since sheep were running into the road. Their shepherd, protective of his sheep, got them back off of the road. I saw other flocks of sheep later before arriving in Azrou.

Once I arrived in Azrou, I caught another bus to the town of Ifrane. I'd heard that Ifrane seemed different from the rest of Morocco. The French built Ifrane in the 1930s. Thus it has architecture different from rest of Morocco, namely houses with pointed roofs. However, I must admit that I was disappointed once I arrived in Ifrane, given how people had told me that Ifrane was very different. It didn't seem significantly different from the rest of Morocco. Ifrane is also known for its gardens, some of which are quite pleasant and pretty, with trimmed grass and flower beds with purple, lavender, orange and yellow flowers.

After visiting Ifrane, next I headed to the city of Meknes, where I stayed for the night. In the morning, I headed further north, to the ancient Roman ruins at the site of Volubilis, or Oualili in Arabic. Volubilis is still being excavated, but there's much interesting already to see there. A massive arch, built by local residents out of gratitude for being exempt from taxes, still stands there. The ancient baths remain. I was most impressed by the mosaics. In addition to enjoying the skill of the artists, I marvelled at how well they've endured against the elements for nearly two millenia.

After exploring at Volubilis, I continued north up here to Chefchaouen. I'd been wanting to come to Chefchaouen for a while, and I'm glad I finally did. I'd heard that a planned visit to Chefchaouen of a few days often easily turns into a stay of a week or more, since it has such a mellow, relaxed atmosphere, which I'm now glad to be feeling myself. I've also been appreciating the scenic beauty here. Chefchaouen is nestled at the foot of the Rif mountains. Its medina, that is, the old part of the city, is whitewashed and also covered in various shades of blue. I also tend to especially enjoy a medina when its streets slope more steeply, as they do here.

I'm thankful to be a PCV here in Morocco. There's so much to do and see here, and, more importantly, I'm grateful to be having mutually supportive relationships and interactions with such warm and generous people here, which is, after all, why I came here in the first place.

Spring Camp 2012

For the last couple of weeks, I've been very far north in Morocco working at Spring Camp.  Moroccan kids had two weeks off from school, so some of them attended camps all over Morocco to learn more English and to engage in various extracurricular activities.  Some of them only attended camp for one week; others attended camp for both of the two weeks.  At this particular camp where I was, the youths ranged in age from 10 to 18.  The vast majority of kids who attended this camp came from the city in which this camp was held, or from the immediately surrounding area.

While it was a camp, it was located in a city.  Taxis run regularly on the street where the camp was held.  Grocery stores are within a block of where the camp was held.  So, the camp was held in an urban area.

The camps are run by the Moroccan Ministry of Youth and Sports.  As PCVs (Peace Corps Volunteers) we help to conduct activities at the camps.  In addition to me, there was another PCV, Stephen, working at the camp.  He too is a Youth Development PCV.  He's in his first year of his Peace Corps service.  He lives in the city where our Spring Camp was held. For the duration of the camp, he and I both slept in our own room, in the same building in which the youths were sleeping.

At Spring Camp, the kids wake up between 7am and 8am.  We, the PCVs, the kids and the Moroccan staff, ate breakfast together at the camp a little after 8am.  Typically it's tea and coffee, milk, croissants, some bread, either baguettes and/or the usual round, flat Moroccan bread, perhaps accompanied by butter, apricot jam, and sometimes hard-boiled eggs and Vache Qui Rit (French for "Laughing Cow") cheese.

For an hour or two in the morning, the kids attend English class.  At this camp, since only one other PCV and I were teaching English, there were only two different levels of English classes.  I taught the beginners' class.  In this class, some of these kids knew no English, whereas others knew more English.  As I usually do when I teach an English class with multiple levels of students, I took the approach of teaching the basics while simultaneously throwing in words and phrases closely related to the topic which even the more knowledgeable students would not have been likely to know.  For example, one day I was teaching the students how to tell the time in English.  While I taught them how to say "2:15," I also explained the phrase "a quarter after."

While teaching English during Spring Camp, I encountered the classroom misbehavior of students which I usually face while teaching here in Morocco.  Usually they're just unruly by talking nearly non-stop during class.  During Spring Camp this year, I dealt with their rowdiness partly by splitting them into teams and having them compete against each other to see who best knew English.  I was pleased to see that it often worked well.  On the first day of English class, as we were nearing the end of our almost two-hour-long class, some students were standing up, asking if they could go.  Right after they stood up, asking if they could leave, I figured that the time was ripe to start a game, so the game immediately commenced. About a minute after starting the game to see which team could correctly spell the numbers I was saying, it seemed like they had completely forgotten that they had wanted to leave the classroom.  Each time their team scored a point, the students on that side of the room erupted into cheers.  Moroccan kids love to compete!

However, I also had the kids play games in English class to practice speaking their English, and to get them to be social and get to know each other.  On the days when I was teaching them about greeting each other, and learning others' names and ages, first I taught them the grammar and vocabulary needed to have such conversations.  Then I had them practice such dialogues in English, performed in front of the class.  Then I had them get up and mingle and try to meet as many of their peers as possible.  Then I split them into teams.  During each round of the game, I had a student from each team at the front of the class, asking each one what the other student's name and age were.  I was a little surprised that the kids didn't know more of each others' names, so it seemed that the game helped them not only to practice their English, but that it also helped them to get to know each other.

After English class, the kids played sports and did aerobics and gymnastics for an hour or so.  The other PCV and I sometimes played sports with the kids.  One day I played soccer with the kids, which I enjoyed.  (Moroccans, like much of the rest of the world, understandably call soccer "football."  They say "American football" for what people in the US call "football.")

In the early afternoon, we PCVs, the kids and the Moroccan staff ate lunch together.  For lunch, we often ate salad, followed by a tajine, which is somewhat like a Moroccan stew, as usual, out of one large serving dish.  We tear off pieces of bread and use the pieces of bread to dip into the tajine sauce, and to get vegetables or meat from the communal dish.

After lunch, there was a little over an hour of free time.  Some of the kids used the time to nap.

In the middle of the afternoon, we PCVs ran clubs for the kids.  The other PCV ran a club of team building activities.  I held a club on the culture, weather and topography of the US.  One day I spoke with some of the kids about New York City and New York State.  On another day we talked about California.  I tried to spend our club time with all of us having a conversation, rather than me giving a lecture, about these places in the US.  I asked them what they knew about these places.

When I asked them what they knew about New York, they said the New York Yankees.  One girl who seemed to know more about New York than the other youths mentioned the Empire State Building, Broadway and New York University.  I shared pictures of the Empire State Building, the Chrysler Building and the Statue of Liberty with them.  I also told them how one can eat great pizza in New York City.  I tried to get them to grasp how good the pizza in New York is by analogizing it to tajines in Morocco. I noted that one can eat a great tajine here in Morocco, but one is hard pressed to find an outstanding tajine in the US.  I then explained that similarly, one can eat fantastic pizza in New York City, since there are so many Italian immigrants there, but one can't find pizza that's that exceptional here in Morocco.

On the day we discussed California, when I asked them what they think of when they think of California, they said, "Hollywood."  We talked a little bit about how movies are made there.  I told them that while there are palm trees in California, there are many more palm trees in southern Morocco.  We also talked a little about San Francisco.  I showed them a photo of the Golden Gate Bridge.  On the map I'd drawn on the dry erase board, below the US, I drew Mexico, and asked them to identify that country. One of them answered that it's Mexico. I explained that many Mexicans go to the US, including California, to work, especially to harvest fruits and vegetables grown in California. During club time each day, after our discussion, they made posters, on the one day depicting New York, and on the other day representing California.  I taped up their posters in the dining room, to reinforce their artistic tendencies, to try to instill a sense of their artistic skill in them, to remind them of what they'd learned about these places and the culture there and the people who live there, and to implicitly encourage their interest in cross-cultural exchange.

In the late afternoon, the kids also participated in activities run by some of the Moroccan staff running the camp.  Typically the Moroccan staff ran activities involving art, song and dance for the kids.

On another day, a gentleman came to the camp and gave a presentation on the spread of HIV in Morocco. Given how touchy a topic HIV is here, I suspect that he provided some very helpful education to the youths that day.

After these late afternoon and early evening activities, we, the PCVs, the kids and the Moroccan staff, ate dinner together.  For dinner, first we always ate harira, which is a type of Moroccan soup which contains chickpeas, and sometimes also lentils, among other things.  Sometimes after the harira, we ate spaghetti and meatballs.  On some nights after dinner, we ate yogurt for dessert.  On other nights, we ate fruit, such as bananas, for dessert.

One night after dinner, the other PCV and I held a trivia contest for the kids.  We had written questions in the categories of US culture and Moroccan culture.

For example, we asked them, "Which country gave the Statue of Liberty to the US as a gift?"  One of the teams knew that France had given it to the US.  We also asked them which US President had founded the Peace Corps.  One team correctly answered that President John F. Kennedy had founded the Peace Corps.

In the category of Moroccan culture, we asked one team which mountain was the tallest in Morocco. They correctly answered that it's Jbel Toubkal. That team also knew that Volubilis is the site of ancient Roman ruins which once served as Roman baths.

On another night, as on many of the nights of Spring Camp, some of the youths performed in talent shows.  Usually they sang or danced.  Sometimes they acted in skits, which they performed in Darija.  On one night, one Moroccan teenager performed live rap in Darija.  That same night, the Moroccan staff insisted that I sing into the microphone, so I sang "And I Love Her" by The Beatles, editing out lyrics which I thought might be culturally inappropriate, given the relatively conservative relations between the genders here in Morocco.

During each of the weeks of Spring Camp, we went on field trips to beautiful spots in the local area, where we took short hikes.  In the first week of camp, we visited a forest.  In the second week, we took a trip to a river.

To get to the forest, there were so many of us that we took both a bus and a mini-bus to get there.  I was riding in the mini-bus with some of the Moroccan staff and some of the campers.  As we headed out on our way down the street, away from the complex where the camp was being held, and toward the forest, a petit taxi began to pull out in front of us just as we were about to pass him.  The man driving our mini-bus exclaimed, "Hmar!"  Strictly speaking, that word means "donkey."  In this particular context, however, he was calling the other driver an idiot.  I don't hear people using that epithet that often here in Morocco.  Parents use it in addressing their kids when they're behaving especially poorly, but, it seems, usually in private.  In any case, each of the vehicles was moving quite slowly, probably more slowly than 10 miles per hour, so they didn't touch.  After our driver was done berating the other driver, we were continuing on our way to the forest.

We went on a pleasant walk in the forest despite the rain which steadily increased during our excursion.  Since that locale is home to some beautiful landscape, and thus is a tourist destination, we crossed paths with some cars and camper vehicles with license plates from European countries.  Most of the time here in Morocco, when I see a vehicle from Europe, it's from France.  I often see vehicles with an "E" for "Espana," or "Spain," or a "D" for "Deutschland," or "Germany." From time to time I also see vehicles from Belgium and the Netherlands.

As we were looping back on our hike toward the vehicles which had brought us to the forest, the rain was falling down upon us and made an unexpectedly pleasant melody.  One of the boys enrolled in the camp was carrying a drum, and he stopped playing it so we could listen to the song which the raindrops made by pattering on top of the drum.  Amidst language difficulties here in Morocco, I often muse that certain kinds of communication are universal.  I believe that nature, through its beauty, serenity and subtlety, is one of them. I also believe that music is another one of them.

I think that humor is another.  Of course one slowly learns about what one can acceptably joke in certain cultures, as well as what natives of that culture are likely to find amusing.  When we had finished our hike, we ate our lunch comprised of the food which the camp cooks had prepared early enough for us to take with us when we left the camp facilities that morning.  As I was eating lunch, a tajine of chicken and potatoes, with some of the girl campers, I noticed that one of them had some potato in the several strands of hair which had escaped from underneath her headscarf.  I pointed this out to her. She started laughing, and it took her a while to recover from the case of the giggles which she developed.  In the end, her friend helped her to remove the little bit of potato from her hair.  And she tucked the few strands of hair back under her headscarf.

At the end of camp, the kids shed many tears. I too was sad to part ways with them and the wonderful Moroccan staff with whom we worked at camp this year. Once again this year at camp, I'd enjoyed working with some remarkably talented youths. One girl who was at camp sings incredibly well. Amidst the tearful goodbyes between campers at the conclusion of the first session of Spring Camp, I said in Darija to this Moroccan teenager who had been belting out stunningly beautiful melodies during camp, "One day I'm going to see you on 'Arabs Got Talent,' and then I'm going to say, 'I met her when she was only 14 years old!'"

Yet I felt even more encouraged by their humility and by their desire and inclination to serve each other. After we ate our meals, some youths cleaned up the tables, not just removing the used silverware, glassware and dishes, but additionally wiping the tables free of crumbs and other food. I was glad to see that they did not see this work as being below them, or as unworthy of them, or as an imprudent use of their time. I tried to clear tables after our meals, and was directed multiple times not to do so. There's a tendency in Morocco to see certain work as being inappropriate for particular people to do since it doesn't match up with those persons' social standing. However, I prefer to see actions in our lives as opportunities to serve each other. When we have chances to serve each other, we have opportunities to give to each other, and thus to love each other. I was pleased that these youths are humble enough that they value service and what it represents. Approaching life with such a generous and nourishing spirit, they're going to not just help others, but in the process simultaneously grow as individuals in some of the most profound ways possible.

Capital Improvements and Construction of Churches

I live on a short unpaved street; thus, it's a dirt road. When I walk out of the front door of my two-unit apartment building and turn left and walk a few hundred feet, I reach the second most prominent street in my town; it has many shops, including hanoots (Darija, or Moroccan Arabic, for "grocery stores") on it.

Last month, when I left my town to go to IST (In-Service Training), the town was preparing to pave that road. When I got back from IST, they had finished paving the road.

Although I've seen the workers using a steamroller when they are finishing a paving job here in town, the road isn't completely smooth once they're done paving. There are some loose bits of gravel on the road, which eventually make their way to the edges of the road. Even then, the rest of the road isn't completely smooth, because the bits of gravel which are molded to the road aren't completely flattened into the road. The more prominent road in my town, the main road, is paved a little more smoothly, since it's part of the road system which you see on a map of Morocco.

Earlier in the year, the town had ripped up certain roads and was making improvements to the sewer system. Once they had made the improvements to the sewer system, they then paved those roads.

In sharing these developments in my town, I'm led to point out some things about countries in which the Peace Corps places PCVs (Peace Corps Volunteers). Since some of you at times have sounded surprised about the level of development and infrastructure in Morocco, keep in mind that the Peace Corps sends PCVs to developing countries which are at different stages of development. Consequently, some countries in which PCVs work are more developed than some of you might expect.

Also, remember Morocco's history, which has in large part been influenced by its geographical location. Being at the entrance to the Mediterranean Sea, Morocco has long occupied a strategic spot. As a result, many peoples over time have tried to occupy and colonize Morocco. The Phoenicians, Greeks and Romans invaded Morocco. The Phoenicians established the port cities of Tangier and Essaouira, as well as Tetouan. Roman ruins remain at Volubilis in northern Morocco. Arabs also migrated to Morocco, bringing Islam with them in the 7th century. And of course, much later, the French colonized Morocco, resulting in the Treaty of Fes in 1912, which made Morocco a French protectorate until Morocco gained independence in 1956. Over time, 100,000 French nationals settled in Morocco. In the 20th century, the French built their "villes nouvelles," or new districts, in many Moroccan cities, in which the French lived. The French also made significant changes to the infrastructure of Morocco, installing electricity, paving roads, laying railways, and establishing Casablanca as a major port. So when thinking about the level of development in Morocco, remember the historical context in which this development is occurring.

Also, when noting that there are churches in Morocco, remember the historical context in which these churches arose, and who built them. European colonists set up churches in Morocco for their own use. These churches remain in many cities in Morocco, among them Tangier, Tetouan, Fes, Rabat, Casablanca, Agadir, Essaouira, Marrakech, and Ouarzazate. However, they are overwhelmingly attended by tourists and other non-Moroccans living in Morocco.