In my near-daily googling of other Morocco-related blogs, I came across this one. Bouba, aka azegzaw, identifies as Moroccan Saharawi and Amazigh, and says that he “lives between memories, art and politics.

It was this post which caught my attention. The heading of the post refers to Peace Corps volunteers, but it is soon clear that Bouba is referring to expats here, in general, particularly those of the North American variety. “People who live in Morocco for awhile have great experiences that they could write about. When they stop being racist,” he says. A fair point; I’m sure those of you who live here have met that special variety of expats known as “those who have lived in Morocco too long.” The expats which Culture Shock! Morocco’s Orin Hargrave refers to as those whose only run-ins with Moroccans are with those who serve them drinks. But unfortunately, that’s not who the writer is referencing.

In fact, he’s referencing me. And you. And sadly, one of my favorite bloggers, Cat in Rabat, whom he quotes directly, saying that the following is Cat’s understanding of illiteracy:

But is this a world without books? Are there bookstores in Rabat? Some; for the most part, they carry French and Arabic titles. Who’s reading them? Obviously some people – I’m not suggesting that no one reads in Morocco, only that I haven’t seen any of them yet. Possibly the ex-pat community keeps the libraries alive.

Now, I read that particular post, in fact, I read Cat’s blog the same way I eat Friday couscous - with great abandon. However, what Bouba seems to have missed is where Cat discussed the great strides Morocco is making with literacy programs, where she pointed out how the corrupt Moroccan government has allowed near-illiterate parliamentarians seats. And to me, most importantly, where she points out her own experiences with her Moroccan students, most of whom can read, are literate in three languages, and yet choose not to.

As I commented in his blog:

[Cat] lives in Rabat, where the majority of the Moroccan population IS literate - in French and Fus’ha. Do they read books? No. Her point was outside of the realm of the illiteracy problem (which we all recognize is indeed a terrible problem) - it was regarding the Moroccan ELITE who have the ability but not the desire to read. Or do much of anything useful, for that matter.

My own students are extremely literate. Not necessarily elite, but literate. All read Fus’ha (classical or standard Arabic) and French, and the higher level students read well in English. But what do they read? Schoolbooks. TelQuel or Le Journal Hebdo. Dailies. Do any of them read for pleasure? No.

This is a cultural problem entirely distinct from the problem of illiteracy, a point which Bouba does not seem to understand. This is not American elitism, nor racism, as plenty of my Moroccan friends grew up with plenty more money than I did, put to scale. This is a matter of a country where the education system focuses on rote, rather than learning, on facts and figures, rather than understanding and analytical skills.

Bouba talks about how “cross culture trainings [Peace Corps volunteers] get are just reinforcement of all supremacy most of them already have.”

I was not a Peace Corps volunteer, nor can I speak for those that I do know, but I think it goes beyond cross cultural trainings. Morocco’s problems are not easy to understand. I have a Moroccan husband, close Moroccan friends, many Moroccan students and colleagues. The majority of Moroccans I know do NOT fall into the categories of illiterate, poor or uneducated (in fact, most have college degrees and/or jobs). Yet, most do not read books. Many don’t see littering as a big problem, nor find any reason why they should fight to stop it. A few say that Moroccans shouldn’t bother helping street kids because they have their own problems. Some have told stories of throwing rocks at trains as children, or killing neighborhood cats. I will never understand any of those things, no matter how much cross cultural training you could throw at me. Those are all examples of bled schizo.

As for that very supremacy Bouba implies Americans have - what about the superiority expressed by countless Moroccan Arabs toward your own Amazigh people?

The funny thing about Morocco that I find is that it’s one of very few countries which does this to people - it brings out the worst, the most prejudiced in many of us. Despite my own lack of any sort of “isms” back home in the States, here I find myself saying things I never thought I’d say. When my neighbors blast the Qu’ran on CD at 1:00am, or neighborhood kids hit me on the head with a soccer ball. I swear under my breath at drivers, all of whom I swear got their licenses out of a cracker jack box.

But that is not to say I don’t love Morocco. I do. I love it for its people, its food, its customs and traditions. I love it for the closeness of Moroccan families and the beauty of Moroccan holidays. I love it for the bustle of the medinas and the calm of the mountains. But I will never love, nor will I accept the apathy of so many Moroccans toward their own country.

Nass Al Ghiwane said, “Koulshi dyalna w hna moualir - Everything is ours. We own it.”

Until Moroccans remember that, I don’t think Bouba will see an end to what he calls this feeling of “supremacy” from outsiders. Until “insha’allah” really means “God willing” and not “maybe.”

Musiqa Maghrebia

A few of you commented that you’d never heard much modern Moroccan music (and by that I mean music by Moroccan artists in typically Western styles - rock, hip hop, etc).  So, without further ado, I present a few favorites:

H Kayne - ‘Aissawa Style

Although they make one of my least favorite Moroccan English mistakes in their song (calling Meknes “Meknes City”), H Kayne is Morocco’s most popular hip hop group.  They’re from Meknes, as you might guess from their constant referencing of the city (Meknassia, Maghrebia, Aissaouia!) and they still reside here, despite having toured around Morocco and in France.  I kind of get excited when I run into one of them on the streets, even though I’ve only really met them once.

Azed feat. Bigg and Ahmed Soultan - Bladi

Fun fact: I’m in this one!  Unfortunately, as Bigg or AlKhaser himself says “it’s just a snippet track.”  A preview, if you will.  Check out the last part - best part of being there was watching DJ Key make the artists pour tea Moroccan-style over and over until they got it exactly right.

Bigg - Bladi Blad

Unfortunately, the video is NOT Bigg’s - someone else made it as a montage for the song (though it is kind of interesting).  Bigg can be described as nothing other than a presence.  He’s younger than I am, speaks English better than nearly anyone else I’ve met in the country, and has been featured in both TelQuel and Le Journal Hebdo in the past two months.  He also feels very strongly about rapping in derija.  Dude’s going somewhere.

In December, Hamza and I stopped at Zara, the popular retail store in Casablanca, after a trip to the Consulate.  After a bit of shoufing, we stepped outside, only to be greeted by a very small child with a case of gum.

As most of you know, and others of you might suspect, Morocco has lots of street kids - Magharebia.com estimates that there are about 25,000 in all of Morocco (although as one of my favorite bloggers pointed out, Chicago alone has that many).  Some of these kids, like the one I met above, are “employed,” making a living selling gum, candy, nuts, or other small things.  Others beg by mosques or on busy streets.  Still others get trapped in a life of glue-sniffing, alcohol abuse, or even prostitution.  A film put out a few years ago by Moroccan director Nabil Ayouch called Ali Zaoua, prince de la rue depicts the life of three such street children, one of whom left home to get away from his abusive prostitute mother.

I’ve become somewhat hardened to Meknes’ street kids.  Perhaps because there are about ten of them in Hamrya where I live, and I see them almost every day.  Some of them are terribly aggressive and try to grab the arms of passersby.  But this one particular child in Casa broke my heart for some reason.  We bought a pack of gum from him, then asked him his age.

“Six,” he said in French, “No, cinq.”

I turned to Hamza, “he’s so little!”

“So little!” The child mimicked.

Magharebia points out that groups such as The Moroccan Association for the Protection of Children in Danger (ADIM) and Shemsy are working to combat this problem, working to steer children away from abuse and reintegrate them into the educational system.  Other groups such as Bayti work with street children, working children, abandoned children, juvenile delinquent and sexually exploited children and has successfully reunited quite a few children with their families.

The biggest obstacles to the success of these programs are funding and public apathy.  As I mentioned the other day, a common belief amongst Moroccan youth is: “it’s the government’s responsibility.”  Even when speaking with students about specific programs such as Bayti, they claim “it can’t work.”  Others still (including a few very close friends) have said “Moroccans have their own problems.  It isn’t their job to take care of street kids when they can hardly afford to take care of their own kids.”

Despite all the complaints, however, the government is doing something. In Casablanca, paramedics patrol the streets to help children who need minor medical and psychological assistance.  Additionally, a new initiative in five major cities is a mobile unit dedicated to assisting these children.

So whose responsibility is it really?

Bayti puts it best: “The success of these efforts is contingent not only on financial support, but on a true partnership between the family, the school, the state, the NGO and the private sector.”

Do cyber cafes open on Fridays in Morocco?

Strangely enough, my blog statistics (which show me lovely things like who reads my blog!) told me that this question had lead someone to my blog on three different occasions!  How odd, yet delightful.

Yes, my friends, most cyber cafes are open on Fridays, in big cities anyway.  Although Friday is the Islamic holy day, many shops and other businesses have Sunday as their day off, following the European example.  The biggest Friday inconvience for tourists is that lunch hours are extended, sometimes until 4:00 or 5:00 in the afternoon.  But, most cyber cafes keep normal hours.

This afternoon, I was fortunate to be visited in Meknes by the lovely Diane, who is at Al Akhawayn in Ifrane on a specialist Fulbright. I actually found her on her blog and invited her up, which could be good or bad news for the rest of you, depending on how you look at it.

We had a lovely day, first visiting Volubilis or Oualili (the Roman name was Volubili, so my guess is that both others are just bastardizations; in my attempt at confirming that fact, I found all sorts of incorrect information - my favorite being that Oualili was a “flourishing Berber town” - so I suppose I’ll leave you to your own googling devices. Or you could read the entire Enyclopediae Brittanica).

Storks-n-columns

Then we picked up and had lunch with Hamza at one of my favorite Meknes restaurants, Serenity. After that, we visited the recently re-done (new exhibit!) Palais Jamai Museum…

…Where this cat fell in love with me, as all cats eventually do…

S/he was quite lovely, prancing around the courtyard:

Tourists will be happy to see that Meknes finally opened a tourist office near the medina (specifically, at the first little kiosk in Place Hedim):

(I couldn’t resist taking a picture of all these women, but that kiosk behind them is the tourist office - note the lovely stained glass).

The perfect end to a perfect day (my concierge, MC Hamid as we call him, helped me out on this one)

I can’t promise I won’t lead you to my favorite rug shop or make you eat street popcorn with me, but if you want to visit Meknes, I can promise I’ll show you a good time!

p.s. Wikipedia says: “Volubilis takes its name from the Berber name Alili meaning Oleander flower”

This week’s issue of TelQuel, the popular Moroccan weekly, features a cartoon on the cover of Moroccans running after their paychecks with the headline “Enquête sur une hystérie collective” or “Inquiry into a mass hysteria,” which I find to be a well-deserved description of payday here.

Inside the magazine are the usual in-depth articles (including one on fantastic DJ Key, no doubt in promotion of the Maghreb Music Awards) until page 65 and then wait! What is this? Arabic? Could it be? Holy crap, it’s Nichane, back from the dead!

At the top of the page, it is explained: “En attendant le retour de Nichane le 17 Mars, TelQuel accueille son equipe dans une section hebdomadaire” (While waiting for the return of Nichane on March 17, TelQuel will accomodate its readers with a weekly section).  Sample headlines in the Nichane section:

• After the Hurricane (Surveys the aftermath of the Nichane case and concludes that although it was bad, it could’ve been much worse)

•  Cold, Poverty, and Government (Discusses the 27 children recently killed by cold in Khenifra and the government’s prohibition on journalists from visiting the area until presented with a photo op when government agencies visit with blankets and heaters)

• The Death Penalty: When Will It Go? (Discusses the decision to abolish the death penalty in Morocco and its opposition from the PJD)

Interestingly enough, in the short list of Nichane’s contributors, I found:

إدريس كسيكس

and

سناء العلجي

Hamza and I came across this yesterday at Marjane in our constant search for new shower gels.  We were busy sticking various bottles up our noses when I noticed this odd, brown one (read it carefully).  I said to Hamza, “Sniff this please.  It smells like Azrou!”

Indeed it does.  You too can have a bottle of Eau d’Azrou for only 28 dirhams.

According to an annual report made today by Reporters Without Borders, “The hopes raised when Mohamed VI became king in 1999 have slowly disappeared and the country’s journalists face prosecution that severely affects their work, even though taboo subjects are now fewer.”

The article mentions the major breaches of free speech: the government’s block of access to websites related to the conflict in the Western Sahara (all of which are accessible to anyone with half a brain by proxy), the recent Nichane case, the foreign journalists who were barred from going to the Western Sahara.

What it does not mention are the minor breaches: the banning of numerous blogging and photo sites (Livejournal.com being the most major), the policemen ordered to seize cameras if caught taking photographs of the king during his recent city tour. Still no word at all, actually, on why the government banned Livejournal and other sites - could it be a fear of blogging? Obviously, it hasn’t stopped Morocco’s blogging community. A phobie des idées?

So taboo subjects are fewer. Yet talking about them, or writing about them, rather, is a larger problem than it has been in the past eight years.