Sunday, March 10, 2013

Spring Semester

It has been so crazy coming back to Morocco and all that has happened so far this semester that I have taken so long to respond to you.

Over winterbreak I went home and my wonderful friend Damion visited me. We had so many crazy adventures! We made it to at least three Abercrombie and Fitchs.

Updates so far: 

-I have a great gym! The women are all so friendly and there are so many different classes.  I've started taking Aerobics classes and it has really helped me integrate into the community. 

-I went to Tangier, Ceuta, and Gibraltar. In Tangier it rained for two days and someone tried to steal my cellphone. I saw something pink coming out of my jacket pocket and then yelped and grabbed his arm. Thankfully he didn't run off with it and handed it back. I wasn't a huge fan of Tangier, but Ceuta was so nice! It was the equivalent of a European Morocco. Everyone spoke Moroccan Arabic but it was so clean, no boys calling out at you, and people went out at night. Gibraltar was also a really cool place to explore. It's basically a big rock in the middle of Spain claimed by Britain. 

- Back in Casa I have been going to the Hammam with a friend, going to the gym, and trying to integrate as much as I can into the local society. 

Along with integrating however, I have started to realize that my honeymoon period with Morocco is finally ending. I no longer look at Morocco with awe and think everything about this country is great. I look at it in a more realistic light. Yes, people can be so friendly, but also people can lie and be untrustworthy (like in any country). Sometimes things are hard to find here, and take extra effort because there isn't the convenience of the United States. I keep asking myself, despite these hardships in Morocco could I see myself living here longer? The answer to that question I still do not know. I need to always remember the good, but also the hard things about Morocco. One of the hardest things about living in Morocco is the male oriented society. Men on the street often call out to girls and say mean things to them.  Just the other day a friend and I were simply walking and 5 boys walked by us. One of them called us the B word...who knows why. Also, the cafes are all filled with men. Men who just sit and watch people walk by. While women are at home cooking or taking care of the home. My friend put it to me so well. Moroccan men are taken care of from the time they are babies, they have it so easy. When they are born and a child their mothers take care of them and then they get married and their wives take care of them. 

So will I be able to make Morocco my home for an extended period time, despite my feminist views? Maybe this means Morocco needs more people like me. To pave the way for women in a way that is culturally acceptable. I am blessed and lucky that I had the opportunity to live with a traditional Moroccan family, because I feel like I have insight to Moroccan culture and customs that I would not have had. 

I am currently teaching a Girls Leadership Activity after schools on tuesday trying to encourage girls to speak about their feelings and become leaders. I hope that it goes well, so that it can be a yearly club that helps girls find their voice amongst a male oriented society. 


Sunday, October 28, 2012

The Sheep

After recovering from my hike and walking mostly backward because it was easier then walking forward, it soon became time for Eid El-Adha (or Eid El- Kebir or Eid El Qorban). I have never actually celebrated this Eid, because in Iran it is customary for people who have made the pilgrimage to sacrifice a sheep. In Morocco, however, every family's goal is to save enough money to buy and sacrifice a sheep. A sheep costs around 2500 Durhams, around 270 or so Dollars.

Buying a sheep is no small task. Families often save for months, so that they can have enough money for their sheep. When I visited my host family in Rabat the weekend before Eid they had already purchased there sheep and were feeding it carrots and grass. My host sister seemed attached to the sheep as she would pet it and often talk to it. She told me she loved eating sheep, but she hated that the sheep had to be killed.

The American host student living with my family, had very strong emotions towards the sheep being sacrificed. She told me she had been a life long vegetarian until Morocco, because she thought it would be too hard to keep her vegetarian diet abroad. Having the sheep in the house and knowing it was to be killed was too much for her. She had requested to move out for those two nights to a hotel. How could I tell her that she would be disrespecting the family by leaving...In my opinion, it's a very American notion to think, I must take care of myself first and not worry about the repercussions.
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I returned to Casablanca ready to go back to school, having forgot about the sheep. On Wednesday my school celebrated Halloween. The students had the cutest costumes and to my surprise there are costume shops in Casablanca. So some of my students were superman, batman, and ladybugs. Right after we celebrated Halloween, I rode the train to Rabat where I was again reminded of the sheep and the impending holiday.


Third Grade Teachers Halloween Costume!

Due to the Eid our school gave us Thursday, Friday and Monday off. Most of my coworkers and friends were heading off to Italy and I was planning on going to Rabat for two days and then returning to Casa with my grandma to spend time relaxing and exploring Casa. Wednesday night was uneventful, but thursday I woke up did some reading, went shopping for some things my friends from Casa wanted (i've become the personal shopper for buying things from the old medina where you can buy things at great prices! A scarf was 20 durhams or 3 dollars! And pants for 80 durhams or 10 dollars!), and then I went to visit my friend's house in the Ouidaya. He is currently researching for a Fullbright.

Friday, I woke up to the sound of blasting Islamic music and my host sister calling my name at 9 AM. I was hoping to sleep in, but with the radio on right outside my room, I got up, changed my clothes and went downstairs. I said hello to my host dad and he told me (in Arabic): "It's not good to sleep on the day of the holiday." It was then, amongst other things, that I realized I have truly become part of the family. While the host student was allowed to do her own thing, I was not allowed to sleep in. I had to be awake like the rest of the family.

I had breakfast and then a man came to the house to kill the sheep. At that time, my host dad and brother took the sheep to the roof in order for it to be killed. The sheep had never made a noise before it was moved to the roof. Maybe the sheep sensed the impending doom. At that moment I conveniently went to visit my friends house again in the Ouidaya. On my way, I saw all the blood on the streets. It looked like there had been some sort of violent incident. Almost like a movie. There was no one on the streets minus a few men and there was a lot of blood. While I was at my friends house, some neighborhood boy's asked my friend if he had a sheep head and other things that they could cook on the street for him and bring back to him for a price. I returned back to my host family's house and had some sheep as a snack that were cooked on skewers like Kabobs.

Having eaten the sheep and ready to go pick up my grandmother I went to the train station and to the airport. Long story short, train times had changed and with God's help I made it to the airport just in time.


                                                   Sheep Skin Drying on a Rooftop in Casablanca

On Sunday, my grandma and I went to the Hassan II Mosque. It is a beautiful Mosque that is open for tours. The ceiling opens for Ramadan when the Mosque is really crowded. The opening of the ceiling helps to keep the place ventilated since there is no air-conditioning. We had a tour guide that spoke to us in English. After the tour, my grandma asked her how to get to a restaurant and she offered to drive us. On the way, she showed us where she grew up in the Old Medina. I asked her if she knew someone that could help me improve my Darija and she said no, and asked me if I knew someone who could help her daughter learn English. So I offered to teach her daughter English in exchange for her teaching me Darija. Its a great trade off. Hopefully she will call and I can improve my language abilities. Additionally it's great to know another Moroccan woman living in Casablanca. It's crazy how you meet people.


                                               Hassan II Mosque- Largest in Morocco & 7th Largest in the world

My goal for this upcoming month of November is to grow out of my shell and the English speaking bubble by interacting with more people in Darija. 

Monday, October 22, 2012

The Longest Hike

Hike the tallest mountain in North Africa? Why not!

Hiking trails in Wintergreen, VA that take an hour was not nearly enough preparation for the 7 hour hike to the half way point of the mountain and then the other 4 hours to the very top. The plan was to leave on Friday after school in one of the school's cars, drive to Imlil a town near the Mountain and then hike half way up to the Refuge spend the night and then hike the rest and then go all the way down.

That was the plan, but on the way to Imlil we realized we lost the paper directions. So we decided to use my iPhone that i recently got internet on. Thank goodness, I thought! But little did I know, there are two Imlil's in Morocco and we arrived at the wrong one around 10 pm. We arrived to one that was four hours away from the one we wanted to get too. So our driver decided to use Moroccan GPS, which consisted of stopping every half hour to ask someone for directions. Finally around 2 AM we arrive to our destination. It was a cute Riad in Imlil. The next day we left around 10 AM and started our hike. 4 hours into the hike, I felt like giving up. I was considering rolling back down the mountain and spending another night in Imlil. The hard hike combined with my cold that I was slowly getting over, made the hike seem endless.

Thank God for friends. My friend from Rabat offered to carry my backpack, but with his terrible balance, my friend and I thought he would legitimately roll down the mountain. So my good friend from school carried my back pack in addition to her heavy backpack the rest of the hour or two up the mountain. I don't think I will ever be able to repay the kindness she showed me that day. I was considering sleeping on the mountain and going down the next day if it wasn't for her help. My friend from Rabat was also great about encouraging me and helping me the entire way. The last hour was specially hard because it started to hale, rain and thunder/lightning. I was terrified I would get struck by lightning. I am never doing this again... I thought.

We finally got to the Refuge and my friend from Rabat and I decided to hike down the next day while my other friends hiked the rest of the way up and then down. All in all, I survived, but I realized hiking a mountain is not my ideal vacation.

The next few weeks after the hike were tough with my students. They like to tattle on each other, and bother each other a lot. I find myself struggling to decide should I try to discipline the students who are tattled on or should I ignore it so I don't have people always looking to tattle on others. This is an issue I am still trying to work with. My patience for their bullying is running thin, so the upcoming break is keeping me going :)

Monday, October 1, 2012

A Field Trip Gone Wrong

My students are becoming so attached. A little too attached. One of my students always finds opportunities to hug me or write my letters saying how much she loves me. One day while my students were at PE I walked into the bathroom, and found all my female students. They had been told by there PE teacher to quickly go to the bathroom. As soon as I walked in the door, my one student that has taken the bigest liking to me exclaims in a very thick Arabic accent, "My lOve is herre!" I love that my students like having me as a teacher, I just don't want them to become too comfortable with me and be so focused on making me like them that they don't focus as much on their work. This is something I will have to work on as the year progresses.

Last week, I had to pick up a package that my good friend sent me and had to leave during the school day. Getting the package took 2 hours (it was worth it though)! Apparently because of my last name they thought I was Moroccan so the process of picking up my package took longer. The substitute watched my class for twenty minutes and when I got back she told me that I had the worst class in the entire school...AND that my class is obsessed with me. The substitute had told me that when she had left the classroom, my class started to cheer that she was leaving. She heard them and came back and yelled at them for cheering and said that she could hear them...I had to muffle my laughter when she told me that story. In order to kill time when she returned to the classroom, she decided to play hang man with them. One of the words started with A and my students all thought it was Ahmadi. Despite this substitutes impression of my class as the worst class, I believe that my class is made up of so many unique individuals. Yes, my class can be hard to manage because of all the unique individuals, but I would not have it any other way. I also think that the students respect me in a way that they don't respect substitutes or assistant teachers. I remember my supervising teacher during student teaching always told me I was at a disadvantage student teaching, because I wasn't the teacher that they started out with from the beginning. Now I completely understand what she meant.

Today we went to Parliament in Rabat for a field trip to culminate our social studies unit on Moroccan government. I was so excited to go into a building that I had always seen so heavily guarded before. I enjoyed some quality time with my students on the transport over, even though my students got yelled at a few times by the substitute (same one) in the OTHER transport... agagin all I could do was laugh when my students told me she was yelling at them from the other car. However, we arrived to Parliament an hour early and needed to kill time. Thinking on my feet, I decided to take the students to the beach. I used to walk the streets of Rabat, and was not used to driving places so I had no idea how many one way roads there are! It took us a lot longer than I had anticipated to drive to the beach, so the students got out for two seconds, we took a group picture and then we got back on transport and went to Parliament. When we arrived, we met a tour guide who did not speak English. We thought because we were an American school it would be obvious that we needed an English speaking guide, but now we've learned our lesson. We were taken to a room where Parliament convenes. After 5 minutes of questions asked in Darija, we were told the tour was over. There was now walking tour. No explanation of the building. Again, finished early and with no place to eat (although we had been told there would be), I again thought on my feet and decided I would take the kids across from Parliament to a grassy area where the kids could eat. We finished eating, and made our way back to Casa in time for Arabic. Would I go back to Parliament again next year? Highly unlikely. Am I glad I went this year? yes.

This weekend I'm going with a few other teachers to hike Mount Toubkal in northern Morocco, I am both excited and nervous! It will be quite the adventure :)






Tuesday, September 18, 2012

First 3 Weeks Teaching

Teaching.....has been an adventure. Maybe more of an adventure than moving to Casablanca. While I love my students, there are so many challenges that come along with teaching young students who are all english learners. Although I am used to the United States' standard of third grade, my third graders here are on a much lower level. Reading is quiet difficult, due to lack of vocabulary. I find myself loosing patience as the day go on. I need to repeat the directions. I need to write the directions on the board. I need to have students repeat to me the directions. I need to have students following along by repeating a word in the story. I am most frustrated when students are just not paying attention. In order to keep their focus, I constantly find myself looking for new ways to make sure the students are engaged. I credit this to both Breakthrough (my summer teaching job) and working with my 3rd grade supervisor last year. Breakthrough taught me to always have students actively involved. When one student does not know the answer, I have another student tell me the answer and then I go back to the original student to tell me the answer. This way I am ensuring that the first student, who originally did not know the answer, is listening and can repeat it in their own words. I often find myself asking multiple people to repeat the correct answers, because many of the students have trouble listening. The most frustrating times are when 5 people have already said the correct answer and the 6th person was not listening. My work with my 3rd grade teacher has taught me to always have the directions placed on the board so students can have a visual, and to provide alternative ways of learning for students who need it. These alternative ways include having things printed out, and allowing students who work diligently but slower to do fewer problems. 

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Now for some interesting things the students call me:

I am mostly Miss. At times I am Miss. Olivia, and other times I am Miss. Ahmadi.

3rd grade girls: They are clingy and will not stop hugging you. I have already been called mama 4 times. I have also been called Mul Hanout, which means shop keeper, because I like to keep my pen on my ear.
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So far my students have learned about the King of Morocco, worked on reading, addition and subtraction, and have learned about making inferences. Two weeks from now we will be going to the Parliament in Rabat for a field trip!

Besides teaching, life has been flying by here in Casablanca. Last weekend, I spent friday watching a movie and staying in. Saturday I made a trip to the beach with a few other teachers, and Sunday I made a trip to the mall to buy a few necessities. Even though my sense of direction can be off at times, I am starting to find my way. The other day a fellow teacher and I were shopping for classroom supplies at Derb Omar and needed to get a taxi back. For some reason (maybe due to traffic) cabs will not take us to our street, so we had to pray that we were walking in the general direction. With my broken Darija we were  able to eventually find our way home! Success! (it did take an hour and a half)

My biggest goal right now, in addition to becoming more patient with my students and connecting with them all individually is to improve my language. I had my first Darija tutoring session today and am excited to keep working on it! At times I think the language pressure takes more energy than my teaching. Due to my appearance, parents, taxi drivers, and people on the street all assume I am Moroccan. Its not a bad thing. In fact I love it. At times I feel so accomplished when people speak to me in Darija (even though I don't really have to do anything for them to assume I am Moroccan). However, trying to listen closely to what people are telling me in Darija, comprehend it and then respond takes so much energy. As I am writing this, I am starting to see that maybe the patience Moroccans have with me is the patience I need to have with my students language abilities. It is not easy to learn a new language, and we often take our native language for granted. This week, I will be more patient, I will improve my Darija, and I will become a better teacher. Inshallah. 

Thursday, August 23, 2012

The beginning

Day 1: After a day of traveling, I finally arrive to Casablanca, Morocco.

My first reactions to the city- busy, not very friendly, and definitely not home. That very same night I went back to Rabat to visit my host family to celebrate Eid. My immediate reaction when I got off the train at Rabat: this is home. I once again was around familiar things and people. It was then that i realized, although I adored Rabat, I just had to give Casablanca time.

Day 2: I returned to Casablanca with my host sister and it was the day of Eid. Everything was closed. Meaning we had nothing to eat. So that night one of the other teachers at my school invited the two of us to her apartment to have some Tajine that she had made. She saved us!

We also had the most delicious ice cream after. We walked about 10 minutes from her apartment to a place called Oliveri. There was a huge line, and after you payed you entered a big glob of people where you had to push your way through to give your ticket to  the icecream man so that you could get your ice cream. Despite the chaos, and despite a taller woman leaning over me to give the guy behind the counter her ticket, it was delicious and worth it. I'm definitely back in Morocco I thought to myself. 

Day 3: I ventured with my two host siblings to the Morocco Mall! What an adventure. Its nicer than any mall I have been to in the United States. The mall is apparently the largest one in Africa and has stores like Louis Vuitton and Gap. It also had a starbucks and a pinkberry (the one thing I missed last time I was in Morocco Froyo!) The mall also included an indoor aquarium and an imax theater!
After having dinner and leaving around 9, my host siblings and I tried to catch a cab. Which became adventure number 2. Everyone was looking for a taxi and there were people just randomly standing around because we were close to the beach. Every time we tried to flag down a taxi, the taxi drivers said that they weren't working and taking passengers, or they already had passengers, OR someone else had immediately flagged it down before us. Then, we decided to walk towards the boardwalk hoping to find a cab further up. We walked for about 45 minutes. Finally we found a Taxi that we told the driver we were willing to pay more than we should so that he could take us home. Hamdullilah we made it home safely! 

Day 4: My roommate arrived and the other new teachers! I was so glad, finally other Americans new to the school were here and I was no longer alone in the apartment. At times I find it hard to balance my previous knowledge that I have from Morocco and what the returning teachers are telling me. I am trying to be really conscious of not sounding like a know it all (hopefully I am achieving my goal). My Darija is better than most of the other teachers, so I have a leg up in terms of getting around. I am quite impressed how much these other American teachers have been able to get around without Darija (Moroccan Arabic) or French! I remember feeling like I had no choice but to learn Darija when I studied abroad in Rabat. - One reason to love Casa: Diversity! 

Day 5: Orientation started! I had many highlights this day. First, all the non-teaching staff who were Moroccan were pleasantly surprised by my Darija. I talked to two staff members in the copy room and they said my Darija was better then their English. I told them I want to become fluent and they said they would only talk to me in Darija. Thank God! More practice!

Then we came home and a bunch of us went for a run, which was nice but also proved to me I need to get back in shape! Surprisingly, other than someone clapping, I didn't have too much trouble running on the street. 

After that we went to the Head of Our School's apartment and had Cous Cous. The wife of one of the drivers had made it for us. He was a little late (which was unusual for him, so the Head asked me to call since my Darija was pretty good). - To be honest my Darija is not as good as everyone thinks. 
He ended up being downstairs and myself and another teacher went to help him. On the elevator he asked the other teacher "Who is this?" in English...I was standing right there. haha. oh well. 

Then! After Cous Cous we got transported back to our apartment and I got to my favorite part of the day. I took my roommate to buy an apple from a local market. I talked to the man in Darija, and because I was with someone who wasn't Moroccan it was obvious I wasn't either. He was surprised I knew Darija and encouraged me to keep trying so that I could become fluent. They started teaching me the names of the fruits and vegetables that I did not know and told me that slowly with time, I will get better! This incident reminded me why I love Morocco. Moroccans can be so encouraging when I am trying to speak to them in Darija. Their reaction and excitement always makes me want to push harder to become better at the language. Inshallah with time, I will become fluent. In the mean time I will work on speaking with the locals as much as possible, trying to learn some on my own, and finding a tutor. 

My teaching doesn't start until a week from Monday, but I can already tell Casa is slowly becoming my home.