Post by Bridget Granger

The delightful aroma of packaged airplane cuisine wafted through the cabin as I anxiously scanned the nighttime sky for city lights. Sheer anticipation and excitement billowed within me as I approached my group's final destination; Marrakesh, Morocco. Four  days prior, I flew from Michigan to Washington DC for three jam packed days of pre-departure orientation. It was in Washington DC where I met the sixteen other NSLI-Y Arabic scholarship students. Among the seventeen of us, we represent over ten states from across the country.  We are all quite different and come from various backgrounds, which often causes many engaging and entertaining conversations within the group. Pre-departure orientation consisted of conference meetings with informative individuals ranging from State Department employees to the president of our implementing agency Legacy International. Subject matters included talk about cultural faux pas, safety matters, and general customs of Morocco. It was on the fourth day when my group and I began the long and stressful trek to Africa. Roughly thirty hours after leaving the DC hotel, we had safely arrived in Morocco! Jet-lagged and utterly exhausted, our bus pulled up to the CLC (Center for Language and Culture) where our Arabic lessons are held. Host families had lined up awaiting our arrival with the warmest of welcomes. It is now my eighth day living in the city of Marrakesh, and each day presents new and enthralling experiences! So far my group has visited the Medina of Marrakesh which is sensory overload! Snake charmers, flame throwers, and belly dancers all drawing crowds as traditional Moroccan music mixes with the shouting of vendors and the singing of henna artists. Incense burns while the scents of citrus juice, spice mounds, and couscous fill the air. Bargaining in the Medina is also quite the experience. With my new Arabic vocabulary I talked a man down from 200 dirhams to only 80 dirhams. Shopping has been one of my favorite aspects of the trip so far, and the insanely low prices make it all the more satisfying. In addition to the Medina, my group also visited a boarding school for girls who want an education but would otherwise be unable to get one with the state of poverty that they are in. The same day we stopped by an orphanage and held little babies and played with disabled children. Morocco and Moroccan culture drastically differs from the United States. I am constantly absorbing the many intricate pieces that create the mosaic of Morocco. I can only hope that by the end of this journey I will have gained a better understanding and appreciation for not just Moroccan culture, but the different cultures of the world. Below is a list of just a few cultural observations made in my first week abroad.

1. Moroccans eat late.

The EARLIEST my host family has ever eaten dinner is somewhere around 10:50 pm! At first I thought it was just my family but the next day in Arabic class everyone confirmed they had dinner around 11pm too. I am not at all accustomed to eating so late, hence my diminishing supply of American junk food.

2. Moroccan life is loud.

My American roommate and I have yet to go a night without hearing a lively wedding, rambunctious house gathering, or men on mules with microphones yelling out what remains gibberish to us. The traditional Muslim "call to prayer" which signals prayer time can also be heard from very far distances and has woken me up on occasion. And although this particular species is not of human variety, there is this extremely obnoxious rooster somewhere in the vicinity of my neighborhood who "cock-a-doodle-doos" into the wee hours of the morning. I will gladly supply a 200 dirham reward to anyone who "takes care" of it.

3. Moroccans never sleep.

For the life of me I can't figure out how they get any sleep! They go to bed at around 2 am, pray at 4 am, and wake up to go to work/school at 7 am. How they make it through the day remains to be a mystery. If only they could let me in on their secret because I really could use it.   

4. Moroccans are some of the warmest and most hospitable people you can ever meet.

My host family is absolutely amazing and they have truly taken me in as a member of the family. This seems to be a consistent feeling from all of the members of my NSLI-Y group as well. Between taxis drivers, shopkeepers, and helpful citizens, Moroccans generally have huge hearts and are usually always willing to provide assistance.

*Note: The above statements are merely observations and do not apply to all Moroccans.

Moroccan Victory Celebrations: Bridget Granger

A group of NSLI-Y students and I went to a cafe in downtown Marrakesh to watch the big soccer game against Tanzania. After the Moroccan victory, thousands of people stormed the streets in utter excitement! To say it was a crazy night would be an understatement...

A Tour of Marrakech : Charlotte C

The Medina of Marrakech represents the original and oldest section of the current city. Surrounded by a wall, the area incapsulates the age, history, and ongoing changes of Marrakech. Marrakech, "Marocsh" in Arabic, is an ancient city with much importance for the whole country. The country of Morocco got it's name in the West from the Arabic name for Morocco. In ancient times, cities were built with surrounding walls for protection and control. The Medina is that older section. When the French colonized Morocco they built their part of the city outside the walls. The French neighborhood is called Gueliz and is where the Center for Language and Culture is located. 

On Friday we went on a more extensive tour of the Medina with Brahim and Mr. Fitzgerald to explain all of the significant places. Loaded with our cameras and touristy appearance we set off, habitually denying we are tourists. The first landmark is the Koutoubia, a huge minaret towards the center of the Medina. We had a quick lesson on Islamic architecture, standing in the ruins of the old mosque there. Did you know that much of the inspiration for the arches of mosques comes from the simple idea of layered palm fronds? Then we entered into the "Souks" or shops which is a confusing network of paths winding around. Down these streets you find shops with leather bags, carpets, kaftans, metal instruments, and "hanuits" (little shops that sell everyday goods). Also, motorbikes, bikes, pedestrians, and donkey carts fight for space on the 5 foot wide street. Deep in the Medina one loses their sense of direction and becomes immersed in a world beyond what you could imagine, a world more traditional, crowded, and unusual. 

Once we walked inside, we saw palace gates, saints tombs, shops, traditional "foundocks" where venders would sell their wares, schools, a communal oven, and "riads" (Moroccan style homes). 

Medersa Ben Youssef - an old religious school that is now a museum

Koutoubia Mosque

A hanuit

Vive le Maroc! by Lilly Bork

                I dragged myself from my bed this morning after my alarm went off three times just because I was exhausted from all the chanting, screaming and walking I did last night after the soccer match. I would have to say that it was the best night I spent in Morocco so far. Since I wanted to be as spirited and blend in as much as possible, I wore my “I love Morocco” hat and my green t-shirt to a cafe to watch the match of Morocco vs. Tanzania. I was screaming “Maghrib!” the whole way while we were walking towards our destination. After spending 15 minutes in the hunnut, we finally got to the cafe that was packed with people and the only two colors we saw were green and red.

The thing I enjoyed the most while watching the match was not the actual game, but the audience around me. Whenever the Moroccan team was tempted to make a goal, everyone in the cafe reacted to it in their own way. Some of them would shout out “sir sir!” which means “go go!.” Or some would just stand up and hold their hands together, praying for their beloved team. And then others would clap their hands and yell off the top of their lungs. I of course went along with everyone else and just screamed as loud as I could. At one point, I turned around to reach for my bottle of water and just when I got hold of it, everyone in the cafe went wild. People were chanting, yelling, and hugging. That marked the first goal for Morocco.

The 15-minute half time during this match was nothing like the ones I’ve seen during American football games. Usually, that would be the time for me to buy some buffalo wings and a cup of soda. Here in Morocco, this is when you just dance and chant in the streets. People were playing drums; others were in circles dancing to the beat of others’ singing. Everyone was chanting something that I didn't understand really except for “ole Maghrib!”

 During the second half of the match, I was well prepared for the madness that I knew was coming. I found it fascinating that when Morocco scored for the third time, everyone just left the cafe and rushed to the streets. My roommate, Negina, my host sisters, and I went along and followed the Lebanese drummer that everyone seemed to flock towards. At that point, I felt the pride and patriotism within every single person around me.  As their fiery Moroccan blood ran through their veins and sweat covered their bodies, I knew I was surrounded by people who truly loved their country and soccer. There were strangers hugging each other, there were people holding up the Moroccan flag, and there were crazy boys climbing the street lamps. The cars were bumper to bumper with people yelling from inside and from on top too. I think the craziest thing I saw last night was the scene of a bus that was packed on the inside and on the top with around a hundred boys, chanting the national anthem and waving their flags. I had a little red flag with me and whenever mopeds or cars drove past me, we’d wave to each other and scream “Maghrib!.” Although my roommate and I are not Moroccan, at that point we were just excited to see everyone around us so happy and celebratory.  We just wanted to celebrate with them, it was all so contagious.

After last night I finally realized what my host brother in-law meant when he said, “soccer is the second religion in Morocco.” I loved the atmosphere, of how everyone was a family and celebrated their victory together. I didn't feel like a foreigner, a student, or a tourist. I was part of them, and I felt the pride and honor to be part of such an amazing night.

A Photographic Summary by Negina Pirzad

Hello world,

Today has marked the 17th day of our stay here in Marrakech and everyday has been filled with new and exciting discoveries that are extremely hard to put into a single blog entry. The best way I can think of to share our journey thus far is with a select few pictures from my collection of 583 (I know, I'm just kind of obsessed with this place).

Our first stop was Casablanca...

...where we visited the gorgeous beyond gorgeous Hassan II Mosque

...(مسجد الحسن الثاني)

 ...along with Casablanca beach...

...and got our first dosage of some couscous lovin'!

 Next up: Marrakech!

So far, we've visited a couple of NGO's: including a girls' school...

...and a baby orphanage.

About a week ago, the CLC organized an insane city-wide scavenger hunt where we got into teams consisting of half Moroccans and half Americans. We got a checklist and some money, then went wild! One of our teammates climbed to the top of the Koutoubia Mosque ( الكتبية )... 

...and then we cheered with glasses of Jamaa Al Fnaa's ( جامع الفناء) infamous orange juice.

Then a few days ago, Michael Fitzgerald and Brahim Zoubari from the CLC kindly took us on a historical tour of Marrakech.

 One of our stops was the incredibly beautiful Ben Youssef Madrasa that was an all boys school, turned museum.

And on Sunday (a.k.a. family day) I got to experience something that I like to call a Moroccan flee market: Souk Al Khamis.

 

And my newest adventure was watching last night's futbol match: Morocco vs. Tanzania. My roommate Lilly, my two host sisters, and I got to share the experience among truly passionate fans at probably the most crowded café in town. The people there made it feel like we were at the stadium; every "seer seer" and "Olé, olé, olé" chant we heard, made me realize how surreal my life was at the moment. All I could think of was: Am I really here, watching the national Moroccan team play a home game in its capital?

Everyday that passes here, I constantly need to stop and remind myself that what's going on is real. Like my host sister, Zinab, said the first day we got here, "Everything that you see in Marrakech is a picture." From kids driving donkey wagons to a family of five riding on a moped, this place is unlike anything I've ever seen before. A year ago, I definitely wouldn't have thought that I'd be sitting in a Moroccan language school, sipping on some mint tea, and writing a blog entry about such an amazing experience. I guess I'll get back to some more exploring.

Until next time,

Negina

 

Food - Joe

Hello everyone.  One of the main types of Moroccan food is Tajeen.  Tajeen describes both the cooking style and the dish in which the food is cooked.  Basically its a large clay plate with a tepee like lid.  Usually there there is one type of meat and one or two vegetables. My family eats Tajeen at least 3 times a week. 

Eating Tajeen (and most other Moroccan foods) is a skill that I did/do not possess.  There are no utensils.  Instead, we use bread.  We're supposed to be able to tear off a chunk of bread and wrangle a nice proportionate amount of meat, sauce, and vegetable into a nice clean blob, and then put it into your mouth without getting your fingers dirty.  Errant bread chunks in the Tajeen and considerable quantities of food departing en route to mouth have resulted in some people being given a plate and fork, or course not me. Speaking of bread, its served with every meal and I've eaten copious amounts of it over the last two weeks.  

There is one more aspect of Moroccan food that really surprised me.  SUGAR. Moroccans eat an insane amount of sugar.  The main source is Moroccan mint tea.  Ingredients- a few spoons of green tea, a wad of mint leaves, and about 2 fist sized shards (my family's sugar comes in chunks) of sugar.  Its almost like drinking syrup and we do it about 4 times a day.  Breakfast consists of bread and lots of dark honey.  Even lunch and dinner dishes can be sweet.  Our lunch yesterday was a bunch of sweet pasta covered in powdered sugar and cinnamon.

One more interesting note: At least in my family, not everyone gets a cup.  There are usually 2 cups for 5 or six people and we just pass them around.  Also, the drinking fountain at school is a tap and one bowl to drink out of for everyone.  I've definitely have had to lower my germaphobe level.

Sharing my Heritage - Kaylah Cruz-Herrera

Acima Majorelle had failed me.  After thirty minutes of running around the Moroccan version of a grocery store (which isn't very different from an American grocery store, except it's in a basement and everything has bilingual labels in French and Arabic), I had come home with a only few vegetables and hope that I'd be able to share a 
.little bit of my heritage with my host family.  I was wrong.

The project had begun almost as soon as my roommate Evan and I arrived in our new home.  After our 
brother had taught us how to make tajine, we wanted to return the favor.  Evan grew up in California and my family is originally from Mexico, so it only made sense that we would cook Mexican food.  Only...Moroccans aren't crazy about spicy food.  That was a problem.  After some brainstorming, Evan and I finally settled on guacamole.  Safe, simple guacamole.   


So we thought.

The following week, after our trip to the grocery store (where I had been forced to settle for Doritos tortilla chips instead of fresh ones) Evan and I stood in the kitchen about to prepare our dish.  Except the avocados were as hard as rocks.  Apparently, they aren't native to Marrakech.  After four days, our brother and sister were too excited to wait any longer.  They insisted on helping Evan and I beat the avocados into submission.  After ten minutes and multiple cooking instruments (including some sort of grinding device), we finally made  progress in our recipe.  My brother watched as I cut the tomatoes, onion, and cilantro, insisting on helping in order to speed up the process.  When the guacamole was finished (minus any sort of pepper), I watched nervously as my family took their first bites. They loved it.  My brother and sister even put it in the middle of the dinner table, next to the real meal.


Moroccans are very open to new ideas.  In this example, my family REALLY loved trying food from a new culture.  But this openness translates into many other areas, from dress to religion.  I feel very welcome here.