You can tell how out of the loop I’ve been by how long this website has been up without me reporting on it: I Love Hip Hop in Morocco - the film - launched this summer and will be playing at several upcoming festivals.

You have no idea - I’ve secretly had the (apparently, very secret) trailer on my computer for over a year and although I’m no longer in contact with anyone who worked on the film, the prospect of such a documentary is immensely exciting. As one of the reviewers says: “Two things the far right can’t stand - hip-hop and Muslims - come together in this documentary.”

I wrote about this awhile back, but for some background - In 2005, a Fulbrighter named Josh Asen traveled to Morocco to study ethnomusicology and ended up producing a concert series and subsequently a documentary on Morocco’s burgeoning hip-hop scene.

For those of you unfamiliar with the scene, you need only look around any of Morocco’s bigger cities (and even some of the smaller towns) to see kids dressed in the latest hip-hop fashions (a phrase often taught in English language schools) and Yankees caps, imitating their favorite American, French and now Moroccan hip hop stars.

Popular Moroccan MCs include Bigg, who speaks fluent English and raps about the problems facing his country; H-Kayne, one of the oldest groups and from Meknes, where I lived for two years; and Fnaire, another group featured in the documentary. I’d provide links, but the I Love Hip Hop in Morocco page is very thorough and has done a better job than I could attempt.

My favorite thing about the movement, if I may call it that, is that it has inspired a lot of young urban kids (as it once did in my own country) to make their own music, often much to the dismay of their parents. My brother-in-law, who has met every group mentioned and was at the original concert (and still talks about meeting Josh) is one such example - an incredibly intelligent kid who doesn’t like school all that much but excels at music and the arts…and may soon have an outlet in which to do so.

**Addendum: For those of you in NYC, please support this film at the Queens Film Festival - November 10 at PS 166.

Despite my love for the country, I spent a good deal of time in Morocco complaining about certain habits that drove me crazy.  Those that bothered me the most were probably the horrifying driving habits of Moroccans (particularly young males), spitting on the street, and the constant sexual harassment I received even when wearing a djellaba.

While I can safely say the third never happens to me in the States, and that I was fully aware that Americans (particularly those in my current state of residence) aren’t the world’s best drivers, I was unpleasantly surprised to notice how many people here spit on the ground as well.

Now keep this in mind - I grew up in a small, polite New England town where only “hooligans” might spit, and it wasn’t a big thing in college either.  So imagine my surprise moving to the “big city” - the other night Hamza and I were waiting for the train and counted one man spitting at least eight times in one minute.  Miffed, Hamza turned to me and said, “Why did you say that Moroccans’ spitting habit is disgusting?  They do it here too.”  I tried to defend myself in earnest, having not seen that all too often before, but the truth is - EW.  I can’t believe how many people I’ve noticed spitting since that night.  And not even polite spitting off to the side.  Actual hocking up of loogies, just like I witnessed daily in Morocco.  Well count me horrified.

At least I haven’t seen anyone blowing snot rockets here…yet.

I can’t believe I didn’t post about this sooner - I suppose it’s worth mentioning that now that I live in Boston and work full-time (as opposed to my previous life as a 20-hour-per-week English teacher), I don’t have the time for blogging that I used to.  I also don’t have the internet like I used to.

Anyhow, as I wrote over at Global Voices last week, the most newsworthy story involving Morocco in my head is that of Madeleine McCann’s apparent lookalike, young Riffain Berber girl Bouchra Benaissa.  Spanish tourists traveling through the Rif (most likely on a hashish buying mission) photographed a young blonde girl on the back of an older, traditionally dressed woman and submitted it to authorities on suspicion that the girl looked a little too much like Madeleine McCann, the missing British child.

Thus, the Benaissa family was intruded upon because the Spanish were too stupid to recognize that Moroccans (their next door neighbors, one might add) come in all colors.  Honestly - that’s how I see it.  I’ve received some comments arguing that the Spanish tourists did the right thing, as there have been previous “sightings” of Madeleine in Morocco and that Bouchra does bear a resemblance to her, but I have to disagree.  A blonde girl upon the shoulders of a traditionally dressed woman does not a Briton make.

In other words, this is racial profiling at its worst (or best, depending on how you look at it).  Morocco is full of diversity - Just in my job as a teacher, I taught at least five redheads (who could’ve been plucked from Ireland), two blondes with blue eyes, several green-eyed folks with olive skin, plenty who appeared African, and a mix of all of the above.

Or as blogger Naim put it best: “The main purpose of my post is to show just one fact. The nearest neighbours of Morocco have a total ignorance about the ethnic reality of Morocco.”

Recently, a friend of mine saw this article on Al Jazeera English and asked me if that’s really what I saw in Morocco - and the answer was, unfortunately, yes.  Homeless or street children are just unbearably commonplace in Morocco, and there are precious few programs to help them.  Most Moroccans I’ve spoken to about this issue say that there are simply other issues to deal with, including their own or those of their families.  Although Moroccans are very generous and often philanthropic people (though not in the Western sense, necessarily), most of their zakat (charity, a pillar of Islam) tends to go to the mosque, or feeding people in their neighborhood, or buying a sheep for a family for Aid El Kabir (which I personally find far less important than say, getting kids off the streets, but to each their own).

Anyhow, an excellent article that shows where the problems truly lie for the newly elected parliamentarians.  If only more journalists would dare to draw attention to this issue.

I am, admittedly, 100% against polygamy.  If you didn’t already know, so are many Muslims, including my husband.  Although the Qur’an does permit polygamy, it does so under strict circumstances, and is not meant to allow any man to take any number of wives.

First of all, a man can have just four wives.  He must love and care for them equally, a statement which many see as a warning against the practice, since it is virtually impossible.  As one particular Muslim marriage website states, “Providing a fatherly figure for orphans is the only specific circumstance in support of polygamy mentioned in the Quran (4:3).”  I’ve heard many Muslims say that polygamy is not for our time - that when the Qur’an was revealed, during times of battle women would be left alone with children and needed to marry again, therefore a man was permitted to marry up to four wives in order to care for them.  Regardless, the aforementioned website has detailed information for anyone interested.

Still, the most clear case I’ve found against polygamy is in this article from the New York Times.  Myra Morton shot her husband in his sleep hours before he was set to board a flight to Morocco, where his younger wife, Zahra Toural, awaited him.  The couple planned to try for a baby during the visit.

Seems to me like an abuse of the system.  The dead husband, Jereleigh “Sadik” Morton, inherits a lot of money, meets a Moroccan woman online, flies to Morocco to marry her (illegal as it is in his own country to have two wives, he does it elsewhere), then tries to split his $6m inheritance (which, from my understanding, belonged to both Myra and Jereleigh, as it came from a malpractice suit involving their daughter’s death) with the new wife. 

I am not saying that Mrs. Myra Morton was justified in what she did - certainly not - but neither was her husband.

Wafin: Moroccan Connections in America is a site that allows Moroccan Americans (and friends of Morocco) to connect virtually.  The site also assists with various other aspects of life such as jobs, real estate and networking.

Today I came across an article entitled Things I Wish Someone Told Me Before I Came to the U.S.  My immediate reaction was “what a great idea.”  Too often in Morocco did I hear America being glorified as “the best country in the world” with little regard to the problems that plague the United States.  Sure, Moroccans are certainly aware of possible discrimination in this post-9/11 environment, and most realize that they’ll have to start at the bottom, but the lure of opportunity is strong.

Although the article is short, reading through the comments demonstrates what Moroccans really feel after residing in the U.S. for some time.  Whether it’s the unspoken rules (don’t pick up and kiss random children) or the seemingly obvious (hot dogs almost always have pork), this article and its comments are a great resource for Moroccans living in or considering immigration to the United States.

A Reuters report claims that Moroccan tourism has dropped in the past few weeks since the security level was raised to maximum.  It also states:

More recently, roadblocks have been set up at the entrance to big towns and police in blue riot vans watch over Marrakesh’s biggest hotels.

What was humorous about the article, however, was the opening in which a man called Ibrahim claims that no tourists have approached him for a camel tour of Marrakech.  Hmm, could that be because a camel tour of Marrakech is totally lame?  If I wanted to ride a camel, I’d go to somewhere where they somewhat naturally occur, rather than Morocco’s third largest city, thankyouverymuch.

Sefrou is a small town about 32 km south of the fabled city of Fez. Always a religious city, Sefrou was the home to a well-mixed population of Muslims and Jews until Moroccan independence in 1956, when many Jews left Morocco for Israel and Europe. The city is best known for its yearly Cherry Festival, when the cherry trees blossom and a woman is elected as Miss Cherry of Sefrou and displayed on a parade float.

According to Nichane, the Cherry Festival began in 1919, with Miss Cherry of Sefrou represented by a small doll. Then, in 1934, the doll was replaced with an actual woman and over the years, the prize was given to Jewish, Christian, and Muslim women.

Now, the Sefrou Cherry Festival is falling apart - each elected Miss Cherry is subject to harassment within the confines of Sefrou, and Islamists in the area have recently proposed replacing Miss Cherry with a six-year-old in order to not attract men from around the country to attend the festival. But will this actually stop harassment? If a six-year-old girl is paraded around as Miss Cherry, won’t she be objectified just like the baby pageant contestants in the U.S.? (see Jon-Benet Ramsey if you’re unfamiliar with this phenomenon).

Admittedly, I am no fan of beauty pageants. But instead of taking away what is essentially a woman’s right to enter this pageant, wouldn’t it be better to hold men responsible for their actions by criminalizing serious sexual harassment allegations?

Cherry blossom photo by notashamed

This craft, called Damascene, is unique to Meknes. Recently, I had a conversation with one of the artisans (from whom I’ve bought several pieces), and he told me that now, following a recent death, there are only three practitioners of the art (and a few trainees) in Morocco, all in this city. Apparently there is also one in France.

The plate shown in the photo (this particular piece belongs to my friend Janine) is made of black metal, onto which thin silver filigree is hammered carefully, creating the designs (which are, of course, drawn on first by the artist). The man I spoke to told me that the filigree, which he orders from France, is getting more expensive, and that he’s concerned that the cost will raise the prices of the plates to a level tourists won’t pay.

The work is incredibly time consuming, and the plates are inexpensive by international standards. I just bought one of this size for myself; it cost me about 250 dirhams. Not too shabby.

So my question for Syrians is - do you have this craft too?  Any idea why it’s called Damascene?

What do those three things have in common? Why, they’re all things that Moroccans shout to Indian, Asian, and British tourists, respectively. I was just reading this article (pointed out to me by this blogger) in which the Indian author is harassed with shouts of “Namaste!” and “Indian!”

Being a woman of little color, I admit that the only strange shouts I’ve experienced in Morocco (aside from Marrakesh’s ubiquitous “Fish and Chips!” shouted at any Anglo) have occurred while in the presence of a racial minority. Just a few weeks ago, I was hanging out with an Asian-American at a cafe; suddenly, as we got up to walk, a chorus of “Jackie Chan!” rang out (and let me tell you, he looked absolutely nothing like Mr. Chan). I’ve heard Moroccans shout “Namaste!” at Indians (shockingly, this actually happened inside the lobby of the Hassan II Mosque while I was there), and I won’t even tell you about the “African” songs I’ve heard Moroccans mocking at the beach when they spot a black family.

It kind of reminds me of another one of my favorite things (to laugh at). Anyone who has ever been to Morocco is familiar with this ubiquitous phrase: “You are welcome in Morocco.” Now, misuse of preposition aside, I find this hilarious. I’ve always wanted to spot Moroccans in the U.S. and shout “Marhaba fi’ Amerika!” as they pass by (apparently, so does Chris Hamilton).

Tell me, what is the best shoutout you’ve ever received in Morocco?