This weekend,
it was another windy morning
in the city of Essaouira
on the Atlantic coast.
Along a pedestrian street in the medina,
that is, the old part of the city,
with streets lined with bricks
and similar stones,
a few of us PCVs were walking.
We were walking down the usually busy street
a bit earlier in the morning
such that few people were on the street.
On a small step
we spied a cardboard box,
the home of a cat
and her two adorable kittens.
Showing posts with label medina. Show all posts
Showing posts with label medina. Show all posts
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Summer Camp 2011
For ten days spread between the end of last month and the beginning of this month, I was at Summer Camp here in Morocco. Moroccan kids end their academic year in June, and they're off from school until September, so during the summer, Moroccan kids go to camps to learn English and do extracurricular activities, sometimes in their own towns, and sometimes far from where they live. At this particular Summer Camp where I was, the vast majority of the kids did not live in the area in which the camp was held. The kids who attended this summer camp, who were in their early and intermediate teenage years, traveled from various parts of Morocco to attend this particular Summer Camp.
At this specific Summer Camp location, we were both north of my town, and we were on the coast, so it wasn't hot at our Summer Camp location. I was glad that I was rarely sweating during Summer Camp, given how hot it has been in my town. In addition to it not being as hot as it has been in my town, I was also happy whenever we got a cool ocean breeze there at camp.
At this specific Summer Camp, we were working in a city. Taxis ran on and near the street on which the camp was located, and grocery stores were within a block.
The Moroccan Ministry of Youth and Sport runs Summer Camp, just like it runs Spring Camp. PCVs (Peace Corps Volunteers) help to conduct activities at Summer Camp, just like at Spring Camp. PCVs serving in various regions of Morocco worked at this particular Summer Camp.
On the day our Summer Camp started, I was one of the PCVs conducting LPIs (language proficiency interviews) in English of the campers who were arriving at camp that day. I began to interview some campers who, I quickly learned, did not know any English. I asked them basic questions like "How are you?" and "Where are you from?" but some of them could not answer them. I also held up some of my fingers a few times and asked them what numbers they were, but they didn't know. However, I also interviewed students at many other levels of English speaking proficiency, including one exceptional student who was probably just one stage or two shy of being fluent in English.
Once we had the results of the LPIs, the two PCVs (one first-year PCV and a second-year PCV) who were coordinating our activities as PCVs at the camp, divided up the students into six levels of English classes according to their ability to speak English. Some of us PCVs then taught English for the next six days of camp. I was assigned with another PCV to teach the second lowest level English class. However, we taught much of our class time teaching the present continuous tense. So, we taught the students in our class how to form and say sentences like "I am studying English."
After having a modest breakfast of coffee, milk, bread and jam with the campers, and then teaching the students English for an hour and a half in the morning, on some of the earlier days of camp, some of the other PCVs and the Moroccan staff took the campers to the beach in the late morning and returned in the early afternoon. The camp was so close to the beach that they walked to the beach.
On each day of the camp, we PCVs ate lunch with the campers at the facility where the camp was being held. At lunch, we usually ate salad, some meat which was usually chicken or beef, and, of course, bread. There's always bread at a Moroccan meal.
In the afternoons, we PCVs we also ran clubs for the campers. Other PCVs ran a theatre club, a music and dance club, a sports club, and a country club, where campers learned about foreign countries.
Another PCV, Kristen, and I ran a creative writing club, where we taught campers basic writing activities like writing letters, brief biographical descriptions of people, and poetry. One day during the creative writing club, I discussed humor with the campers in the club and what makes jokes funny in the USA. I was impressed at the jokes which the students wrote.
In addition to teaching English and running clubs, as PCVs, we were also trying to monitor and direct the campers' behavior by assigning them to five different teams named after foreign countries. Campers lost and won points for their teams based on what they did. Campers lost points for their team if they threw trash on the ground, swore, talked to each other in class, and otherwise disruptively behaved. Campers won points for their teams if they picked up garbage, correctly answered questions in class, read a book and summarized it for us, and otherwise constructively behaved. Campers had one such opportunity to earn points in the afternoon, during library time, when they sat and read books in the library and then summarized them for us, sometimes orally, and sometimes in writing; sometimes in Arabic, and sometimes in English. At the end of the camp, the team with the most points won prize bags containing short books and food.
Later in the day after club time, we PCVs also ate dinner with the campers. At camp, dinner usually consisted first of harira, Darija for "soup," followed by some kind of meat and bread. For dessert after dinner, sometimes we ate fruit, and sometimes we ate yogurt.
After dinner, each night, the campers performed in talent shows. Typically the kids danced and sang in the talent shows.
After each evening's talent show, we turned in for the night. As PCVs, we slept at the same facility as the campers. However, we slept in a different building from the campers.
One afternoon, some of us PCVs and the Moroccan staff took the kids to a nearby town and walked through the medina, or the old part of the town, with its narrow, winding streets. Given that some of the students at camp were poor and thus had probably not traveled much, I was glad that we showed them a little more of the region in which camp was held, since some of them had likely never previously been to that region of Morocco.
On the second to the last full day of camp, those of us PCVs who had conducted LPIs (language proficiency interviews) at the beginning of camp again interviewed campers to re-assess their proficiency in understanding and speaking English. I was pleased to see that a significant percentage of campers had improved in understanding and speaking English. Almost all of the ones I interviewed on the first day of camp who didn't understand any English had clearly become able to understand and speak basic phrases. Although I wasn't one of the teachers who had instructed them, I nevertheless found it hugely fulfilling and satisfying to be interviewing those students, and witnessing their progress in learning English.
On the last full day of the camp, we PCVs held an English Olympiad in which the campers participated. Each pair of PCVs who taught English class together over the previous six days ran a station at which we quizzed campers on what we taught during our particular English class. However, each camper only attended the same English class over the previous six days, so some campers were much more likely to be able to answer particular questions during the English Olympiad than other campers who had not attended the English classes in which particular material had been taught.
During the second half of this Summer Camp, we operated under an altered schedule because Ramadan started halfway through our camp. Many campers and Moroccan staff were fasting, so that they were not eating or drinking between sunrise and sunset. As a result, we started our days at camp during Ramadan at 12:30pm. Breakfast and lunch were not served. At around 7:30pm, when those fasting broke fast, all of us ate together in the dining room at the facility where we were all staying. This meal, "ftur," in Darija, consisted of harira, dates, "helwa shbakiya," Darija for a specific Moroccan sweet served during Ramadan, hard-boiled eggs, orange juice, coffee, milk, bread and jam. Around midnight, we ate a meal just before turning in for the night which closely resembled what we had been eating for lunch before Ramadan started. When the kitchen staff served us this midnight meal, they also gave us bags containing yogurt, bread, cheese, and sometimes cookies, all of which was for those fasting to eat just before dawn.
I feel that I should state here that I am not fasting during Ramadan because I don't want people to think I'm Muslim. I don't want people to think I'm considering becoming a Muslim. And I don't want to implicitly encourage others to be Muslim; if I were to fast during Ramadan, at least some, if not all, people would think that I'm Muslim, and that I want others to be Muslim. I do not want any of these things to happen, because I do not agree with basic statements in Islam. Islam states that Jesus did not die on the cross. Since I disagree strongly with this statement in Islam, I don't want people to think I'm Muslim, I don't want people to think I'm considering becoming Muslim, and I don't want to implicitly encourage others to become Muslim. For these reasons, I am not fasting during Ramadan.
At this specific Summer Camp location, we were both north of my town, and we were on the coast, so it wasn't hot at our Summer Camp location. I was glad that I was rarely sweating during Summer Camp, given how hot it has been in my town. In addition to it not being as hot as it has been in my town, I was also happy whenever we got a cool ocean breeze there at camp.
At this specific Summer Camp, we were working in a city. Taxis ran on and near the street on which the camp was located, and grocery stores were within a block.
The Moroccan Ministry of Youth and Sport runs Summer Camp, just like it runs Spring Camp. PCVs (Peace Corps Volunteers) help to conduct activities at Summer Camp, just like at Spring Camp. PCVs serving in various regions of Morocco worked at this particular Summer Camp.
On the day our Summer Camp started, I was one of the PCVs conducting LPIs (language proficiency interviews) in English of the campers who were arriving at camp that day. I began to interview some campers who, I quickly learned, did not know any English. I asked them basic questions like "How are you?" and "Where are you from?" but some of them could not answer them. I also held up some of my fingers a few times and asked them what numbers they were, but they didn't know. However, I also interviewed students at many other levels of English speaking proficiency, including one exceptional student who was probably just one stage or two shy of being fluent in English.
Once we had the results of the LPIs, the two PCVs (one first-year PCV and a second-year PCV) who were coordinating our activities as PCVs at the camp, divided up the students into six levels of English classes according to their ability to speak English. Some of us PCVs then taught English for the next six days of camp. I was assigned with another PCV to teach the second lowest level English class. However, we taught much of our class time teaching the present continuous tense. So, we taught the students in our class how to form and say sentences like "I am studying English."
After having a modest breakfast of coffee, milk, bread and jam with the campers, and then teaching the students English for an hour and a half in the morning, on some of the earlier days of camp, some of the other PCVs and the Moroccan staff took the campers to the beach in the late morning and returned in the early afternoon. The camp was so close to the beach that they walked to the beach.
On each day of the camp, we PCVs ate lunch with the campers at the facility where the camp was being held. At lunch, we usually ate salad, some meat which was usually chicken or beef, and, of course, bread. There's always bread at a Moroccan meal.
In the afternoons, we PCVs we also ran clubs for the campers. Other PCVs ran a theatre club, a music and dance club, a sports club, and a country club, where campers learned about foreign countries.
Another PCV, Kristen, and I ran a creative writing club, where we taught campers basic writing activities like writing letters, brief biographical descriptions of people, and poetry. One day during the creative writing club, I discussed humor with the campers in the club and what makes jokes funny in the USA. I was impressed at the jokes which the students wrote.
In addition to teaching English and running clubs, as PCVs, we were also trying to monitor and direct the campers' behavior by assigning them to five different teams named after foreign countries. Campers lost and won points for their teams based on what they did. Campers lost points for their team if they threw trash on the ground, swore, talked to each other in class, and otherwise disruptively behaved. Campers won points for their teams if they picked up garbage, correctly answered questions in class, read a book and summarized it for us, and otherwise constructively behaved. Campers had one such opportunity to earn points in the afternoon, during library time, when they sat and read books in the library and then summarized them for us, sometimes orally, and sometimes in writing; sometimes in Arabic, and sometimes in English. At the end of the camp, the team with the most points won prize bags containing short books and food.
Later in the day after club time, we PCVs also ate dinner with the campers. At camp, dinner usually consisted first of harira, Darija for "soup," followed by some kind of meat and bread. For dessert after dinner, sometimes we ate fruit, and sometimes we ate yogurt.
After dinner, each night, the campers performed in talent shows. Typically the kids danced and sang in the talent shows.
After each evening's talent show, we turned in for the night. As PCVs, we slept at the same facility as the campers. However, we slept in a different building from the campers.
One afternoon, some of us PCVs and the Moroccan staff took the kids to a nearby town and walked through the medina, or the old part of the town, with its narrow, winding streets. Given that some of the students at camp were poor and thus had probably not traveled much, I was glad that we showed them a little more of the region in which camp was held, since some of them had likely never previously been to that region of Morocco.
On the second to the last full day of camp, those of us PCVs who had conducted LPIs (language proficiency interviews) at the beginning of camp again interviewed campers to re-assess their proficiency in understanding and speaking English. I was pleased to see that a significant percentage of campers had improved in understanding and speaking English. Almost all of the ones I interviewed on the first day of camp who didn't understand any English had clearly become able to understand and speak basic phrases. Although I wasn't one of the teachers who had instructed them, I nevertheless found it hugely fulfilling and satisfying to be interviewing those students, and witnessing their progress in learning English.
On the last full day of the camp, we PCVs held an English Olympiad in which the campers participated. Each pair of PCVs who taught English class together over the previous six days ran a station at which we quizzed campers on what we taught during our particular English class. However, each camper only attended the same English class over the previous six days, so some campers were much more likely to be able to answer particular questions during the English Olympiad than other campers who had not attended the English classes in which particular material had been taught.
During the second half of this Summer Camp, we operated under an altered schedule because Ramadan started halfway through our camp. Many campers and Moroccan staff were fasting, so that they were not eating or drinking between sunrise and sunset. As a result, we started our days at camp during Ramadan at 12:30pm. Breakfast and lunch were not served. At around 7:30pm, when those fasting broke fast, all of us ate together in the dining room at the facility where we were all staying. This meal, "ftur," in Darija, consisted of harira, dates, "helwa shbakiya," Darija for a specific Moroccan sweet served during Ramadan, hard-boiled eggs, orange juice, coffee, milk, bread and jam. Around midnight, we ate a meal just before turning in for the night which closely resembled what we had been eating for lunch before Ramadan started. When the kitchen staff served us this midnight meal, they also gave us bags containing yogurt, bread, cheese, and sometimes cookies, all of which was for those fasting to eat just before dawn.
I feel that I should state here that I am not fasting during Ramadan because I don't want people to think I'm Muslim. I don't want people to think I'm considering becoming a Muslim. And I don't want to implicitly encourage others to be Muslim; if I were to fast during Ramadan, at least some, if not all, people would think that I'm Muslim, and that I want others to be Muslim. I do not want any of these things to happen, because I do not agree with basic statements in Islam. Islam states that Jesus did not die on the cross. Since I disagree strongly with this statement in Islam, I don't want people to think I'm Muslim, I don't want people to think I'm considering becoming Muslim, and I don't want to implicitly encourage others to become Muslim. For these reasons, I am not fasting during Ramadan.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Revisiting old friends, visiting new places
At the end of last week, I started traveling north. Since three weeks had passed since the big storm here in Morocco, thus giving the high elevation snow ample time to melt, I didn't expect the bus ride through the High Atlas mountains to be more spectacular than usual. However, I was thrilled to spot five waterfalls created by snow that was still melting. I also enjoyed the sight of dozens of goats walking toward us on the other side of the road, obediently staying on their side of the road under the skilled care of a shepherd as we continued further north through the mountains.
In Marrakech, I doubted the accuracy of one of those screens outside a bank which claimed that it was 42 degrees Celsius, which would've meant it was 107 degrees Fahrenheit. I continued north and I visited Casablanca for the first time. While there, I slaked my thirst at the bar named Petit Poucet, where Saint-Exupery used to relax between runs delivering mail across the Sahara.
The next morning, I caught a train and headed further north. Later that day, I had much fun visiting old friends in the community where I trained as a PCT (Peace Corps Trainee) during my first couple of months in Morocco. When I first saw this one boy, who's a wonderful friend of mine, for the first time again in months, he literally jumped through the air into my arms. I was joyous spending time with my friends there.
The next morning, I continued even further north, since I am up here this week for work activities as a PCV. Yesterday I spotted a cafe high on a hillside and made a mental note to return to check it out. After exploring the older part of the city, known as "the medina," I was exiting the medina on an old brick staircase which led me through the middle of what I thought was another hillside cafe with remarkable views of the Rif mountains. I continued on to the newer part of the city, where I finally ate a meatball sandwich, and walked across the street to eat a delectable eclair and another delicious dessert at a patisserie. I then continued back to my lodging for the night.
Today some other PCVs and I met with some Moroccans to discuss logistics of activities we'll be doing here later this week. Toward the end of the day, I headed back out and came to this hillside cafe, with its amazing views. Once I was sitting here enjoying some fresh squeezed orange juice, I realized that the cafe in which I was, and still am, sitting, is both the one I spotted from below as well as the one through which I walked when exiting the medina. It is very pleasant here. I have been very much enjoying the views of the Rif mountains from this spot.
In the last couple of days, I've also been enjoying seeing a different region of Morocco. Given that this city is so far north in Morocco, many people speak Spanish here. Also, cultural norms are different this far north than they are in southern Morocco where I live. Thus far since I've been here, I've seen couples sitting on benches openly displaying affection towards each other, which would definitely be "hshuma" (considered shameful) in the region in which I live.
Also, there have been women sitting here in this cafe. In my town, as in many small towns in Morocco, you don't see women in cafes. So this is another change which is noticeable as one travels to different parts of Morocco.
So it's interesting to see a new part of Morocco, and see what changes, whether it be cultural norms, or the landscape, or the weather. Right now it is getting noticeably hotter in the town where I live way down in the Sahara Desert. But here in this northern city, it is quite cool, with a constant breeze and the sea air, the Mediterranean Sea being a scant dozen miles away. The environment is most definitely different here. One sees, in the contrast between where I live, areas through which I have passed on this trip, and where I am as I type this post, some of the meteorological diversity of Morocco. In my town where I live, I have considered retreating inside a cafe when winds were blowing a lot of sand and dust at me. Up here, there are most definitely different weather concerns. While it was barely sprinkling on and off in the early afternoon here, by the early evening, it had started raining slightly more, so I migrated inside the cafe, where I still have been enjoying views of the mountains as dusk has been falling.
In addition to admiring and loving the scenery, I was also amused when this young Moroccan woman ran inside here, squealing and waving her arms. She rushed into the bathroom. Once she had emerged, and breathed a sigh of relief, I asked her in Darija, "Kulshi mzyan deba?" which means, "Is everything good now?" She affirmed that all was well. It turned out that she had had a close encounter with an insect.
In Marrakech, I doubted the accuracy of one of those screens outside a bank which claimed that it was 42 degrees Celsius, which would've meant it was 107 degrees Fahrenheit. I continued north and I visited Casablanca for the first time. While there, I slaked my thirst at the bar named Petit Poucet, where Saint-Exupery used to relax between runs delivering mail across the Sahara.
The next morning, I caught a train and headed further north. Later that day, I had much fun visiting old friends in the community where I trained as a PCT (Peace Corps Trainee) during my first couple of months in Morocco. When I first saw this one boy, who's a wonderful friend of mine, for the first time again in months, he literally jumped through the air into my arms. I was joyous spending time with my friends there.
The next morning, I continued even further north, since I am up here this week for work activities as a PCV. Yesterday I spotted a cafe high on a hillside and made a mental note to return to check it out. After exploring the older part of the city, known as "the medina," I was exiting the medina on an old brick staircase which led me through the middle of what I thought was another hillside cafe with remarkable views of the Rif mountains. I continued on to the newer part of the city, where I finally ate a meatball sandwich, and walked across the street to eat a delectable eclair and another delicious dessert at a patisserie. I then continued back to my lodging for the night.
Today some other PCVs and I met with some Moroccans to discuss logistics of activities we'll be doing here later this week. Toward the end of the day, I headed back out and came to this hillside cafe, with its amazing views. Once I was sitting here enjoying some fresh squeezed orange juice, I realized that the cafe in which I was, and still am, sitting, is both the one I spotted from below as well as the one through which I walked when exiting the medina. It is very pleasant here. I have been very much enjoying the views of the Rif mountains from this spot.
In the last couple of days, I've also been enjoying seeing a different region of Morocco. Given that this city is so far north in Morocco, many people speak Spanish here. Also, cultural norms are different this far north than they are in southern Morocco where I live. Thus far since I've been here, I've seen couples sitting on benches openly displaying affection towards each other, which would definitely be "hshuma" (considered shameful) in the region in which I live.
Also, there have been women sitting here in this cafe. In my town, as in many small towns in Morocco, you don't see women in cafes. So this is another change which is noticeable as one travels to different parts of Morocco.
So it's interesting to see a new part of Morocco, and see what changes, whether it be cultural norms, or the landscape, or the weather. Right now it is getting noticeably hotter in the town where I live way down in the Sahara Desert. But here in this northern city, it is quite cool, with a constant breeze and the sea air, the Mediterranean Sea being a scant dozen miles away. The environment is most definitely different here. One sees, in the contrast between where I live, areas through which I have passed on this trip, and where I am as I type this post, some of the meteorological diversity of Morocco. In my town where I live, I have considered retreating inside a cafe when winds were blowing a lot of sand and dust at me. Up here, there are most definitely different weather concerns. While it was barely sprinkling on and off in the early afternoon here, by the early evening, it had started raining slightly more, so I migrated inside the cafe, where I still have been enjoying views of the mountains as dusk has been falling.
In addition to admiring and loving the scenery, I was also amused when this young Moroccan woman ran inside here, squealing and waving her arms. She rushed into the bathroom. Once she had emerged, and breathed a sigh of relief, I asked her in Darija, "Kulshi mzyan deba?" which means, "Is everything good now?" She affirmed that all was well. It turned out that she had had a close encounter with an insect.
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