On the train....again

I am certainly getting to know the Moroccan train system.  Right now (thanks to my handy/dandy 3G) I am on the train back to Casa.  Unfortunately I could not do the trip up and back in one day because the schedule wouldn't allow me to do everything that I had to do.  So, I am staying tonight in the hotel that I stayed in last time which is two blocks from the embassy.  Then I go there first thing in the morning.  Grab my new and improved passport and meet a friend who is coming to visit for the weekend from Rabat.  Then back to the house for dinner with the girls and to the mountains for Sat night. Then Gwen will go back to Rabat Sunday.


I have spent the last three days at another house in Ouirgane which is about 15 km from Asni.  While I was not looking forward to the change of venue, it actually was very nice and the girls were sweet.  Perhaps if I come back next year I may stay there for a little while since there won't be any room for a volunteer in the Asni house because it will be overcrowded with girls. I will see....it is still a while off.  Anyway while at Ouirgane (which is even more isolated than Asni), I worked with the other American volunteer, Gretchen.  Today we picked up trash outside the school that the girls go to.  It was lots of fun and they were all singing and the sports teacher had them doing cheers.  It was great.....meanwhile the place around the school is the pits....the children buy snacks from a little vendor outside the school and then they just dump the trash. Then they burned all the trash we collected. A little different than the US certainly.


Next week will be in Asni again until the 7th when the girls leave for vacation and i leave to go back to the US on the 10th until the 19th.  Then back to Asni until May 11th, at which point I head to Paris for a few days before flying back to SFO.  

Life is crazy and other stuff

To update those who are following the continued drama that is my life.  I will try and be brief.


Passport:  I have received notice that it has arrived and I will pick it up next Friday during an extremely long day which will involved a very early train to Casablanca, grabbing the passport out of their hands, turning around and getting back on the train and returning here.  Hopefully all will go well and I won't have any more crazy stories to tell.


Living arrangements:  This has been changing hourly.  I was informed the other day that I am going to be sent to another house for several days because there are problems  in that house and somehow they think that I can solve them.  Feel like I am getting in the middle of another situation where people are afraid to give someone the bad news so they want me to do it.  At least before I was being paid for it.  I was really bummed about the idea of leaving the girls for a week but I am trying to remind myself that my feelings aren't important, just helping the girls is.  And perhaps I can do something in a few days to help those girls, who knows?  


Then I was informed that I could not come back when I was scheduled to come back because there were going to be other volunteers here.  Then I was told that changed.  Then I was told that I could stay until the end of April.  And finally I was told....never mind, they would like me to stay until May 11th (at which time I am scheduled to go to Paris for a few days to see the Nogrets). A lot of needless drama.


Teaching and other assorted volunteer experiences:
There is now another volunteer in the house and her name is Anne also.  She is a retired French teacher from Belgium and she and her husband also have a house in Marrakesh. She's only going to be here for three weeks until the girls go on vacation.  I like her very much and she has been doing really great work with the girls.  It is wonderful to have the company although I am no longer able to speak English to anyone since her English is pretty much non existent and now that she is here, Latifa has stopped speaking English.


Today we had a crazy day which tested my ability to multi-task.  Latifa went to Marrakesh at 8 in the morning and didn't come back until 7 at night.  Of course everything happened while she was gone. 


I had a girl suddenly develop a fever and pass out and then when I called Latifa she said that I was NOT to go to the hospital with her so her sister came and carried her on her back  through the town .  Then her father showed up (speaking no english but thankfully French) wanting to know what happened and where she was.  After I directed him and settled down the hysterical girls, we just began to have lunch when a tour group of 16 high school students showed up unannounced and wanted to do activities with the girls (all of whom have exams) and wanted a tour of the house and explanation of the program.  I, of course, had couscous all over my hands because Friday is couscous day and now that I am truly a Moroccan I am eating it with my hands.  So I washed my hands, grabbed the girl who speaks the best English and off we went with the group.  


Then the crazy French woman Colette who lives down the road showed up and berated the girls about how they didn't have proper manners and I had to literally shove her out the door.  Then the cook whose name is also Latifa got upset because I had called Latifa (the housemother) about the girl who was sick, so she was angry with me but I couldn't explain to her what went on because she speaks no English,or French and fluent Tashelhit.  So again, I pulled in Khadisha, my trusty best English speaker and asked her to explain in Tashelhit what had happened.  All was smoothed over.


Then the electricity went out.  Then it came back on in several rooms and I attempted to show a movie that I had but the DVD player wouldn't take the American DVD.  So I promised the girls that when Latifa (the housemother...are you getting it all straight? ) got back, and if they did their homework early, they could watch the movie on my computer with the projector from Latifa's office.  So they all did their homework diligently.  Latifa arrived and told them that they couldn't watch the movie and that they had to study.  So much for my credibility. And then I was helping the girls with homework until 10 including sitting in a powerless computer room reading English with girls by flashlight.  And now the wind is blowing so hard that the door to our bedroom keeps flying open.


Tomorrow Anne and I are going to a restaurant that she knows in the next town and I am going to have a stiff drink. No more of this Islamic teetotaling stuff.


One more thing.  I met a woman in town who is living in a smaller town down the road and who is an American and has been living here for 8 years.  Married a Moroccan man who wooed her (something that they seem to be good at) and then turned out to be a drunk and a womanizer (big surprise) but she remained here because she got out of town when Bush was elected and is never going back.  Told her that she could go back to Berkeley though :-).  Anyway, she lives down the road from the house that I will be staying at for several days and we exchanged phone numbers so, who knows, perhaps I have a new friend.  And there is also Hassan who is the local older Moroccan man who is her friend and has already befriended me in town.

Got to go to bed.....I am wiped out.

my own house in Asni

I realized that I haven't written in a few days so here is an update on everything so far......I am alone in the house for part of the weekend and it has been great.  Moroccans have no concept of "alone time" and so I think that Latifa thought that I was a bit nuts when I said that I just wanted to stay home, cook myself some pasta, make chicken soup and chill.  Only thing missing is the TV which I now haven't seen for almost 3 months.  Went yesterday with Latifa to the hammam for a few hours and also refreshed my hair henna rinse.  Perhaps I can build a hammam in the backyard of my California house...hmmmmm.


Trip to Casablanca: Another saga in the passport story.  It was a very long two days.  At 8 am went in the Grand Taxi, sitting in my usual place on the gear shift (the best but certainly not the safest place in the taxi) for the hour ride to the staging area for the taxis in Marrakesh.  Then took petit taxi to the train station.  Because, of course, I arrived early at the station, I broke down and had coffee and some sort of wonderful cheese balls for breakfast at...YES...McDonald's! At 11 Aziz and his van driver whose name was Omar Sharif arrived (Moroccan time..they were supposed to be there at 10) and we set out for Casablanca.  As we neared the airport we stopped for lunch at a true Moroccan dining experience.  I feel that I have become very acclimated to Morocco, I can

1. Wash my hands from the communal water supply
2. Eat everything with my hands (I pretended to be insulted when Aziz offered me a fork)or bread
3. Say Bismillah before I eat
4. Drink the water without any problems
5. Try unusual foods.  This was the first time that I went to a barbeque where we went around and picked out the meat which they then cooked and brought us.  So I had liver brochettes which were yummy and calve's legs (which were more interesting in their appearance than taste..not a lot of taste) and then, yes....sheep's testicles (good taste but, understandably, a little fatty :-).  Would have been nice to drink it all down with a beer but whoops...no alcohol here.
6. Feel very comfortable surrounded by men all speaking a tongue that I have yet to master. Ofcourse they still spoke to me in pidgen French...and Aziz spoke in English and Omar the driver spoke to me in Tashelhit.  What a multilingual society I am living in.

Then we get to the airport and Aziz and Omar wait for Aziz's tour group and I hop on a train to the city (another 45 minutes) and then get a cab to the hotel during which I get a proposal for either marriage or a night that will change my world......I could understand what the cab driver was proposing in French just wasn't sure how far he wanted me to go with it :-).  Anyway, I just pretended that my French was not good enough and I couldn't possibly understand what he was saying.  We then drove through the most insane Casa traffic for another hour and I finally arrived at the hotel at about 5.  Long, long day.  Walked to the American consulate which was two blocks away to scope out things for the next day.  Had a drink in the bar (yeah....my first since Rabat).  Dinner at a wonderful hole in the wall genuine Moroccan only place down the street from the hotel which cost me 37 DHM....$6.00.  So since I saved so much money, I bought a big box of french pastries for the girls on my way back to the hotel and then carted the box all the way back to Asni the next day, including sitting once again on the gear shift in the grand taxi. 

Next day I went to the Consulate and that was fairly anticlimactic.  I waited in the line across the street for about a half hour (of course I arrived early for my appt) with all the people, primarily women, waiting for their visas to go to the US.  Once inside the compound and through all the layers of security, they went their way into a big waiting room and I went through the door into the very empty American citizens room.  Only snafu was that the pictures that I had taken in Asni and had told them that I needed for an American passport, were too small so I had to go to another place in the city to have them retaken.  So now I have two passport pictures.  All seemed OK and the passport is supposed to be in in a week or so, at which time I have to go back up and get it which I will probably do in a very, very long day instead of staying over again.  

Then waited 2 hours for the next train to Marrakesh.  Got on the train.  Checked my e-mail etc with my trusty 3G connection.  Three and half hours to Marrakesh.  Petit taxi to the staging area.  Waited for a hour and half for 5 other people to show up to share the grand taxi to Asni.  The box of pastries, gear shift and I drove the hour to Asni.  Arrived back home at 5 PM with lots of hugs and kisses from the girls.  Almost made the trip worthwhile.

I promise I will now hold on to my passport with my life.  Never going through this again.  It definitely could have been worse and it was a long way to go just to eat sheep's testicles!!

Life at the house: The week with the girls has been hectic.  They are starting to have their end of the year exams and they are even more wound up than usual.  Trying to get them to come in for French and English review has been like herding sheep which seems an appropriate analogy for this area. 

We also had a visit from a school in London (we get visits at least once a week).  There were 5 girls, five of whom were Muslim...two from Libya, 1 from Pakistan and one from Somalia. The fifth girl was half Ukranian and half Nigerian.  They played music with the girls and games and we all danced the Macarena and sang We are the World.  It was a great afternoon.

Party for International Womens Day

Thursday night  we had a big party and event for International Women's Day.  First Latifa talked to all the girls about the Mudawwana, the  2004 law which gave women additional rights and protections.  Latifa attended an event in her hometown, Moulay Brahim on the 8th and was given an award for the most outstanding woman in her town.  Throughout this country I have met women who are the face of the new Morocco....islamist and feminist.  


Anyway, back to the party......so Latifa talked to the girls about the importance of having pride and respect for themselves.  She talked about the opportunity that they have being in this house and working so hard to try to be an example for themselves and their families and communities.  She talked about the need for women to be able to support themselves.  All of this I was told through one of the girls since she did it totally in Tashelhit.  All of the girls participated in the discussion and it was wonderful to see.  But it wasn't all serious.  One of the older girls organized the younger ones to put on skits which seemed to be surrounding a girl getting married and her husband not treating her well and then returning to her home.  There was a lot of hitting going on and even though the girls were laughing hysterically, I wonder how much abuse does go on at home.  Anyway, it was fun to watch the girls in a different way...just acting like silly teenagers. The older girls then gave out awards to the girls for things like best marks in the house etc.  One girl got an award that all the girls voted on for being the best girl that had come through the house in the 5 years that the house had been in existence.  She, ofcourse cried mountains.  Then they gave me a present which was a huge surprise.  They all stood up and applauded and I cried buckets ofcourse.  Then I told them in French what amazing women they were...and I guess I must be getting through, because most of them even understood what I said.


We then ate the macaroni and cheese that the girls and I had prepared early in the day.  While it certainly wasn't all American Mac and Cheese (with powdered milk, farina, no Parmesan Cheese) the girls thought it was great.  We also had artichokes which they weren't that crazy about.  They eat artichokes here but put them in tagines and don't do the silly thing of peeling them and putting them in butter.  Oh, and we had LOTS of Coke.


Then we all played music (Berber rock....bet you didn't even know that it existed) and we all danced for hours.  It is amazing to me how much the girls love to dance....and they dance well.  They are such normal teenagers sometimes, it is hard to remember how restricted their lives are outside of our house. And they LOVE the macarena, particularly the swinging hips part.  At night between end of the school day and dinner, we all go up on the roof and listen to music and dance and sing...it is a great way to unwind.


Tomorrow I am off to Casa to get my passport.  I even bought a new pair of shoes for the trip since I haven't been out of my clogs and hiking shoes and boots since I got here.  Hopefully no surprises. With either the passport or the shoes.

Moroccan police adventure and Moroccan jails

Today I got to see the inside of our local jail/police station/grade B movie set.  Luckily there were no convicts there.  I DID NOT tell them that I worked in a prison. 
After receiving a call from someone in the station that finally the Chief was going to be in the office for a few minutes, Latifa and I rushed out of the house and walked again the 1/4 mile to the station to hopefully finally get my document of perd (loss).  First the Chief looked at me very sternly and asked me in French if I was sure that I lost it and that someone didn't steal it and then he said was I sure that I lost it in Asni (to which of course I answered yes because if I didn't he would send me all the way to Marrakesh).  He then proceeded to ask me questions about my residence, my parents names (which seems to be a big thing here) etc.  After about 20 minutes he handed me over to someone else and Latifa went outside because she said she was not allowed to be with me.  I started to get a little concerned.  It was feeling a bit like my rug experience and I was taken to a half empty room with a 50 year old typewriter on the desk and a laptop computer that had seen better days.  The computer wasn't even used during the interview.  That man just asked me questions that were already on my passport like where I was born and when I was born etc (the date of my birth generated some sort of conversation between the two men working on my document but I couldn't tell if it was "wow, she doesn't look that old" or "how is this woman still standing at her age?".).  The man interviewing me spoke a little French and lots of Arabic so we did some sign language.  I did manage to get from him that he loved California.  Needless to say, we did not have a discussion about earthquakes.  You don't joke with these guys.  He then proceeded to ask me again about my parents first and last names and paused over the name Scheinbaum.  I thought that I was gone for...but apparently it is not as obvious what sort of a name it is....I just had to try and explain why I had a different name than my parents etc.  And when I said I was retired they looked envious and when I said I was divorced they once again looked suspicious.  And everything was written by hand into a notebook that he kept on the desk. Then the two men took me into another room with another man who began to actually type something and...voila, my document finally appeared after about and hour or so.  When I then looked at the document it said Ann Puth Lopata which is obviously the name that I am staying with because they insisted that the copy of my passport looked like Puth and they couldn't change it without filling out some more forms and questions.  Hopefully the American consulate will be understanding.  Or I will just have a name change.


Tomorrow we are having our fete for International Womens Day and having macaroni and cheese and artichokes and coucous and dancing the Macarena until dawn, at which point we will break into the Education For All Morocco version of We are the World.

A fish story

Today I cleaned a fish. Not just any fish but some small nameless fish of which there were probably 50.  The girls showed me how to scale it and chop off its head. And my hands still smell of fish this evening.  Not sure how I avoided doing this previously in life although it may have something to do with being married to someone who never allowed messes in the house (ok Roy, now you can comment about this :-) I violated my own rule of not allowing my food to look at me but it was fun doing it with the girls.  And now we will have these little guys for lunch tomorrow....... 


Saga with the passport continues.  Today the police station contacted Latifa about my certificat de perd which means (for those of you not fluent in French), the official note that they have to give me which says that I lost my passport and that I should be forgiven because I don't have the official Moroccan entry number on my passport.  I also learned that it is an extremely big deal to lose your passport in Morocco. Not as serious as losing your identity card, but almost.  Since all official documents in the country are in French and Arabic, everything has to be translated. So the police wanted two pictures of me.  Why?  Perhaps they wanted to recognize me on the street, who knows?  But I found a place in town that would do it and also give me the pictures that I need for my passport so I don't need to go running around Casa on Tuesday when I go into the city.  Hopefully the police will have my info tomorrow when I once again walk through the town to the police station and wait around while the policeman chats with his friends.  Ah, Moroccan time...I love it.


Also, I had to register with the government office here since I am a foreign national living in a boarding house.  I filled out the forms.  Told them that I didn't have a Moroccan entry number because I lost my passport and all seemed fine.  Today the man came to the house (it is next door) and needed my parents names.  So now the secret is out....they know I am a Jew.  Can't hide behind Lopata any more....the Scheinbaum is out there.  


Today I was in charge of the house since Latifa went into Marrakesh which is a whole day adventure.  That threw a wrench into my teaching plans because I had to be pulled out of sessions constantly to deal with some incident or another.  This is where all those years of being a mother helps...whether it was tending to the girl who I thought might have appendicitis but instead she probably has an ulcer or GERT, to the one with the incredible migraine.....I just went from one to the other giving water and blankets and lots of TLC until Latifa got back in the early evening.  


Lastly a comment about men and women and Moroccan culture.  It stinks.  Yesterday I had the girls outside the house playing football (soccer of course), their favorite activity. It is so much fun to watch them interacting so spontaneously and having so much fun.  The house next door is a boy's government boarding house which was built to house 80 and now houses 300 (at three to a bed) and about 50 of the boys came out and were watching and making comments to the girls.  So we went in the back of the house and they followed us. There was nothing threatening about it but it is just that these girls have to be so very careful about appearing to be flirtatious etc.  And they, of course are. They are so innocent that they don't realize the implications of what they are saying or doing. I brought them all inside and today we played within the walls of the house until most of the boys had gone to school.  It is too bad that it is that way.  They are all friends at school (all classes are co-ed)and in a different environment they could interact normally.  But, particularly in the rural areas, if one of the girls gets involved with one of the boys, she will suffer incredible consequences.  This is isn't Saudi Arabia or Afghanistan...no one is going to stone her but they would probably take her out of school and try and marry her off to anyone who would take her. And in Morocco, Berber women have the reputation of being "lose" anyway...not sure where that comes from but it may have something to do with the fact that the majority are poor and uneducated.  It is so important for these girls to have a sense of self-respect and pride in all that they are accomplishing. 


That provides a nice segway into International Women's Day.  Tomorrow I am going to talk to the girls in French and English classes about women they admire and Friday we are going to have a party after I spend the day with the girls making macaroni and cheese (after they have their Friday couscous for lunch)and artichoke and then Latifa is going to talk to them about the law in Morocco which was passed in 2004 which reinforced for women their social and legal rights to property, divorce etc.  We are trying to do our little bit.

Passport stories and hikes in the mountains

This will just be an entry to update the last two days.  Saturday when I went into Marrakesh, I must have dropped my passport.  I didn't discover it until one of the girls jokingly took my wallet yesterday and I told her that she now had an American passport but when I looked in the wallet....no passport.  After going though all my stuff with the wonderful help of the girls, no luck.  So now I have to file a lost passport form at the little police station in Asni and then go to Casablanca next week to apply for the new passport at the Consulate.  Casa is 3 1/2 hours from Marrakesh and therefore 4 1/2 from here.  Luckily my friend Aziz is starting a tour group in Marrakesh on the 13th so I am hitching a ride in the van that is going up.  All the girls are much more upset than I am about the turn of events.  I just told them that now I could have a better picture with my slimmer self :-).  Anyway, I am not leaving the country until at least April 10th (need to leave after 90 days and then return) so there will be no problem getting the passport I hope.


Yesterday was a pretty amazing day though.  I walked with the girls that had remained for the weekend into the mountains so that we could visit one of the girl's aunt.  Little did I realize that we were going to spend hours wandering through this very poor area with sheep and goats all over and lots of kids running around, while we went from house to house seeing both her relatives and another student's.  Gave me a taste of what I might be experiencing this upcoming weekend. Unfortunately I didn't bring my camera so there are no pictures.  Just look at pictures of quintessential Berber High Atlas villages and you will see where we were.  Sanaa's cousin asked the girls why they brought their grandmother with them and we all had another good laugh at my expense :-).  I am going to Chaima's house for the weekend but we are also going to spend time visiting two other girls.  I am very glad that Chaima agreed to "share" me since there is only a limited about of time that I can spend in each girl's house.  I have another home visit next week. I think that that one will be a lot poorer than the one this weekend.


So we all spent Saturday and Sunday night curled up on the wonderful Moroccan couches that serve as beds in most families, watching Hawaii 50 and the Good Wife.  Strange, strange.....and of course they were reruns.  Two of the girls, Hadija and Samira made dinner both nights and I washed the dishes.  The girls couldn't believe that I was helping clean the kitchen...they said that their mothers tell them to do that.  I pointed out that I no longer had daughters at home to do the work for me (although I didn't point out that American teenagers certainly don't have the home responsibilites that these girls have.)


Now Latifa and I are planning some event for International Womens Day and she wants to encourage the girls to think about their experiences as women representing their families and their villages. She also going to talk to them about the law passed in 2004 which increased the legal rights of women in this country. She is passionately committed to this home and is such a wonderful mother to the girls (although she is in her thirties).


Got to go.  Will keep everyone posted on the events of the week and what we do for Womens Day.  And how many times we sang We are the World!!!


To everyone in California....glad the quake was not super strong but glad that I am here instead of there :-). 

Souks and Marrakesh

Because we are expecting some visitors tomorrow who want to meet the girls, 5 girls stayed at the house this weekend.  Each of the girls went to the souk to meet their fathers who came in to do the weeks shopping.  I went with them and met some of the fathers.  It is a pleasure to see that these fathers feel proud of their daughters and the more that I am able to to understand what the girls are dealing with, the better our relationship can be. 


Then, spent the afternoon driving with a friend into Marrakesh with a stop along the river at a cafe, lots of philosophical and political discussion, shopping in the modern mall outside of town, more cafe and coffee (expresso now, the Moroccan tea is rotting my teeth) and back to Asni in the evening in another six person rickety taxi. Came back to the house and the girls were watching Greys Anatomy!! Interesting.


And the weather is warm and sunny and beautiful.  Life is good.

Visitors

Today I was both  a host and a visitor.  For four hours today I had to entertain some nurses from England who were doing some immunizations in the town of Imlil (home of Kasbah du Toubakal...pictures will follow on Facebook).  Unfortunately that meant once again that the time was taken away from the girls for PR activities.  We seem to be averaging about 2 groups a week here and I conduct the tours, make jokes (mainly British/English language jokes) and introduce the girls etc.  Since we haven't had any French visitors, Latifa defers to me......One day last week we had a student group from England who did crafts with the girls for several hours which was great.  Most of the people just walk through and have minimal interaction with them.


This afternoon, after deciding to accompany some of the older girls to the lycee for a special English class that they were having, I was invited into the school and into the classroom.  The English teacher is Moroccan but studied for a year in the US.  He asked me to speak to the class and I think that the girls were really pleased that the students seemed to be very interested in what I had to say...they just told everyone when we came back to the house.  The students in the class asked great questions: one asked if I was Muslim because I was wearing a headscarf which I had just had one of the girls put on me that morning...I forgot I had it on; one asked me about US views of Muslims and another asked me if, since I had been to Morocco twice, I was going to move here permanently. And they wanted to know a lot about California...oh and they wanted to know my age.  It was a wonderful hour and I hope that I am invited back.


The hour before dinner has now become singing time.  We practice We are the World over and over again.  I thought that it was a good song for them to learn, talked to them about the significance and some of the older girls translated the English to Arabic so that all the girls would understand what they are singing.  I hope that we can perform the song at the big fund-raising event at the end of April.  They are so enthusiastic that they practice it over and over again and during the day I will go up on the roof (the hangout) and hear groups of girls practicing without music. I even walked into town with some of the older girls yesterday and they spontaneously broke into song. I am going to try some other songs with them too...one of the girls suggested a Cat Stevens (he lived for a long time in Essouraia) and a Simon and Garfunkel.  They love any Indian music so much but I don't think we will be singing anything from Slum Dog millionaire.  Tomorrow we are going to do Makarena....then Electric Slide.  Staying away from Bollywood dancing.  I am just too old for that.


Tomorrow is another school visit, this one from the American School of Marrakesh (I'll check it out Beka), then back to the hammam for the afternoon. Saturday is souk in the morning and meeting a friend who is coming in from Marrakesh to get goat meat (apparently it is the best in the area...who knew?)and drive me back to Marrakesh for some major purchases.  Basics like scotch tape and cheddar cheese for the American meal that I am going to have the girls make next week. Back to Asni crowded in the 6 person taxi and Sunday another visit from some donor and time with the couple of girls who will be returning early.