Sunday, November 16
I think the best word to describe today is “contrast”. This morning we left Rabat, a city that has plenty of modern elements and is quickly becoming westernized, and traveled to a small village in the Rif Mountains. After an afternoon in the mountains with a wonderful family, we traveled to Chefchauen, which was toursity to the max. Morning, afternoon, and evening provided extremely diverse contrasts to each other, which, have no fear, I will elaborate on.
Before we begin, I should mention the dwarf bus we traveled in during our trip. I use the word dwarf because I’m pretty sure it was built for dwarfs and not for humans. My group consisted of 16 students, 2 IES staff members, our guide, and the bus driver. 19 people, 19 1/2 seats. Not so bad if this was a normal bus, but alas, our many hours on the bus today just made the bus feel like it was made for 8 dwarfs. I pretty much sat either with my knees in my chest or overlapping shoulders with the people sitting next to me. The day’s bus rides win as two of the longest bus rides of my life….
So anyway, we said goodbye to our host families and Rabat early in the morning so that we could get an early start towards the Rif Mountains. As we drove out of Rabat, we passed some of the shanty towns (or perhaps “marginal settlements” if we’re being PC…) and that was quite a site. There were a few things I just couldn’t stop thinking about, mainly though how there is no easy solution to the problem. Or any problem for that matter. Those living in the shanty towns are living in conditions that should not be accepted by the developed world, but it isn’t as if anyone in the developed world has a magic wand to make the situation better. It’s something that’s going to take time, effort, and mostly interest. Post-Morocco addition: I was curious if GW offered any classes about North Africa, because it’s a region I’ve becoming interested in this semester. I really wasn’t surprised when I didn’t come up with any classes. Sure, GW has classes that talk about North Africa, but any classes about Africa focused on sub-Saharan Africa, and any classes about the Middle East focused on, well, the Middle East. I did take a class last spring about authoritarian Arab regimes and North Africa was mentioned once in awhile, but in reality, my profressor was not an expert in North African regimes (rather, he knew a lot about places like Jordan and the UAE), and no one in my class really had any interest in countries that are never in the American news/never talked about. While I’m not sure GW has the resources (or student interest) to offer a class on North Africa, I’m curious to why it’s completely overlooked in the international affairs curriculum.
Our entire afternoon and early evening was spent in the Rif Mountains with another kind and welcoming Moroccan family. Unlike our host families, no one in this home spoke English, so there was a major communication barrier. Our guide for the day was the younger brother of the mom, so he did quite a bit of translating for us. For about an hour, we sat outside in this adorable pavillion and had a Q&A session with the family- not only did we ask them questions, they asked us questions. We talked about everything from the family’s harvest and the recent rainfall to (of course) the American election and the prospect of peace in the world. After, we all ate lunch together (more couscous…yummmm) and then played with the children and chatted some more with the family. And was had more tea- always a plus.
As I mentioned earlier, the word of the day was contrast, and mostly that was because of the vast contrast between the Moroccans we met during our first few days and the Moroccans we spent the afternoon with on our third day. The family on day 3 had electricity (a recent addition) and some form of water, but no indoor plumbing and definitely no Western style toilets. They lived in a small house that, although was adorable and on an expansive amount of land, was quite isolated from other families let alone things like hospitals. The school the children attend was about a mile walk from home, but that school only takes students up until age 12 or 13. After, if a student wants to continue their education, they have to go to a “nearby” (read: at least an hour by car) school where they live in dorms and spend the majority of their time. If a 14 year old is at one of these schools, he or she is very, very fortunate. Even then, resources are limited, and while in big cities students may have access to new textbooks and french language instructors, those students in rural villages do not. Despite all of this, the children sat in front of the satellite tv for the entire 4 hours we were there. Every time I walked by the door, there was something different on, but it was mostly American programming…except for Pokemon, though at this point I consider that American. Whether it was contrasting the lifestyle of this famiy with the one I stayed with in Rabat or Mr. Baghdadi and family or my homestay in Granada or even life in Northbrook, the contrast in terms of have vs. have not was large, but everything else was still there. The family was so generous and so welcoming and above all wanted to make sure we were comfortable and well fed- not unlike certain families I may know in Northbrook (especially the well fed part…really, no contrast there).
We then got back into the dwarf-bus and drove to Chefchaouen (Chef-scho-wen), which we unfourtunately didn’t get to see while it was still light outside. Speaking of contrast Chefchaouen is one of the most touristy cities in Morocco. While walking around, we saw signs and menus in English, Spanish, French, and Arabic. The shop owners all spoke three of the four aformentioned languages, and many times all four. The city has an interesting Jewish history, which is apparently why the whole city is blue and white….we didn’t really chat too much about the city, so check out the wikipedia link for some fun facts. After settling into our hostel, we wandered around the Medina (old city) and shopped. And by shopping, I really mean barganing. Our guide Allen told us to do all of our barganing in Spanish, as shop keepers were more receptive to Spaniards than Americans and would probably give us better deals. I took that as a challenge (both the barganing and the Spanish) and sought to get the best deal. The best I did? I wanted an over the shoulder, messanger-like bag (if it makes it home, I’ll be surprised, as it’s not of such amazing quality) and finally found one I liked. We started at 100 Dirhem (Moroccan currency) and in the end, I paid 50. Pretty good, no? The guy was really pushing for 60 but I was relentless. So 50 it was….
Later in the evening we had dinner as a group and then did some reflections. Nothing too interesting to speak of, but the general concensus was that cous cous is amazing, Morocco is a facinating place with such generous people, and we were all glad we got the chance to have a non-touristy trip to experience that. I knew that going back to Spain would be hard, as after 3 days, I had aptly come to adore everything about Morocco, and I can’t imagine going back to the states where most people probably think of “Monaco” when someone says “Morocco”……
