ISP: Gnawa Music in Essaouira

Here’s a quick update of what I’ve been up to and what I have planned for the next few weeks:

Last Monday morning, I said goodbye to my homestay family and left for the coastal town of Essaouira to begin my month-long research project called the ISP (independent study project). We get one month to go anywhere in Morocco to explore a topic of our choice and produce a substantial research paper at the end. It’s a chance for us to practice conducting field work and to explore a topic of interest in-depth. We are given a daily stipend of 200 dh/day and have to make our own living arrangements.

After contemplating several different research topics, I eventually decided to explore Morocco’s Gnawa people and their music. These people originated from West and sub-Saharan Africa and were brought to Morocco several centuries ago during the African slave trade. Their music is used in healing rituals and has traditionally been played only in spiritual and religious contexts. Recently, however, Gnawa music has become commercialized and “festivalized.” Western rock and jazz musicians came to Morocco in the ’60s and ’70s and were fascinated by the Gnawa “trance” style of music. They began creating music that became a fusion of jazz, rock, world, pop, and Gnawa. Eventually, the Gnawa World Music Festival was created which takes place every year in June in Essaouira. I will explore the effects and consequences of the “festivalization” of the Gnawa sacred music and the role it plays in redefining the Gnawa identity.

After spending time in Essaouira for a couple weeks I will go to Marrakesh for a few days. After that, I will travel to Merzouga and Khamlia, two small villages on the edge of the Sahara desert, near the Algerian border, known for their Gnawa population. Lastly, my research will take me up north to Tangier.

I’ve spent a week now in Essaouira and it has been a fantastic experience. I’ve learned a tremendous amount already about Gnawa music, even squeezing in a few lessons on the qraqeb and guembri, two instruments of Gnawa. I am looking forward to the rest of the month and to learning as much as I can!

Well that’s all for now. As always, thanks for reading and have a happy Thanksgiving!

Eid Al-Adha (belated)

At the end of October, Morocco, along with the rest of the Muslim world, celebrated the Festival of the Sacrifice. This holiday, called Eid Al-Adha or Eid Al-Kabeer in Arabic, celebrates the story of Abraham and his son Ishmael from the Quran. In the story, which is present also in both the Bible and the Torah, God tests Abraham’s obedience to Him. As an act of submission to God, Abraham showed his willingness to sacrifice his first-born son, Ishmael, before God intervened and provided Abraham with a ram to sacrifice instead. In celebration of this act of obedience, Muslim families around the world who can afford it will buy and sacrifice a ram. My host family in Rabat did just that.

In the weeks leading up to Eid, it became very clear in the streets of the medina that the holiday was fast approaching. New stands were set up in the streets that sold hay for the sheep, coal for the grills used to cook the meat, and knives to slaughter and butcher the ram. Eid-themed ads filled the television and banks began offering loan services for buying sheep. At the beginning of the week, my host mom dressed up in a nice outfit and left to pick out a ram at the souk. She returned later that night with a fairly large one-year-old ram. While some families have the ram live in their house with them for the week leading up to Eid, my family opted to keep it in a community pen located in the medina. Families often spend a large amount of their income during this holiday on gifts and the ram itself. Students also get several days off from school. My 6-year-old host brother had almost two weeks off and my 21-year-old host brother had about a week off from his studies at the university.

This holiday is very important to the Muslim community and there are many traditions that are carried on each year on Eid. Everything from the order in which you eat the parts of the ram, to the dishes you serve with each meal, to the most delicious and prized part of the sheep are carefully considered and followed according to tradition. This holiday is also a chance to celebrate with family and community. The act of giving is a large component of this holiday, as much of the ram meat is to be given away to family and friends as well as to those who are less fortunate. The King of Morocco slaughters two rams to signify this important pillar of Islam: one for himself and one as a symbolic gesture to give to those who are less fortunate.

Overall, this holiday reminded me of the Christian celebration of Jesus’ birth. Gifts are given, many people spend a lot of money, children get off school, family and religion are considered to be the highest priority, traditions are strongly upheld, and eating is a large aspect of the holiday. I enjoyed the holiday quite a bit and although the slaughtering of the ram was a very different cultural experience, the traditions and values behind the holiday were very familiar and reminded me of home. It once again proved to me that Muslims and Christians are much more alike than some Western media would like us to believe.

If you’d like to see pictures of the sacrifice check out my Facebook album here.

Excursion to the North

Hello everybody, it’s been a while since I’ve posted so here’s a quick update on where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing the last several weeks:

In the beginning of October, some friends and I traveled to the imperial city of Fes. We explored its famous medina with its seemingly endless winding streets and shops. This medina is considered to be the world’s largest contiguous car-free urban area. Donkeys are used in the medina to transport goods as the streets are too narrow for cars. Here we saw the famous leather tanneries where animal hides are treated, dyed, and processed into fine leather products. It was a fun weekend trip.

From October 13th-20th, our class took a trip to the Netherlands (with stops in Chefchaouen and Tangier in northern Morocco) in order to observe and study the receiving end of migration. In the 1950s and ’60s, the Netherlands experienced a post-WWII boom and along with their unprecedented economic growth, they experienced a great labor shortage. In order to overcome the shortage, guest-workers were recruited from several places, mostly from Morocco and Turkey. While it was the intention of the Dutch government for the guest-workers to stay in the country only temporarily (as their name implies), many ended up staying permanently. Today, almost 10% of the population of Amsterdam is of Moroccan descent making immigration one of the most talked about issues in Dutch politics today. Using this background knowledge, we observed and learned about some of the social, political, and economic aspects of immigration that the Dutch experience on a daily basis.

We spent 5 days in the capital of Amsterdam and were shown around the city by a local 2nd-generation Dutch-Moroccan. We visited a Moroccan neighborhood, considered by some to be the “bad part of town.” We learned that discrimination towards Moroccans here is common and that some people associate young Moroccan males with criminal behavior. Many young 2nd-generation Moroccan immigrants in the Netherlands struggle to define their identity as well as to assimilate into Dutch society. The current educational system appears to set young Dutch-Moroccans up for failure.

Later in the week, we had the opportunity to meet with two members of Dutch parliament (Mona Keijzer of the Christian Democrat Party and Désirée Bonis of the Labour Party) to ask them about these issues and their policies regarding immigration in the Netherlands. It was a very interesting and enriching experience. Having members from two parties with differing views definitely made the discussion more lively, too! Afterwards, we met with local high school students from Het Amsterdams Lyceum to have a roundtable discussion on the same topic. It was fun to talk to these students and to hear their opinions on everything from Dutch politics and society to the elections in America to where the hottest clubs in Amsterdam are!

We also visited a local organization called the Euro-Mediterranean Center for Migration and Development (EMCEMO) whose mission is to defend immigrants’ rights and promote equal opportunities for all migrants in the Netherlands (with a particular emphasis on Moroccan immigrants). We learned here that discrimination towards Moroccans and migrants is widespread in the Netherlands. Much like in America, “Islamophobia” is also very present in Holland which adds to the difficulty of the Moroccan immigrant to participate in and assimilate into Dutch society.

This trip was a lot of fun and allowed for a deeper understanding of the difficulties migrants face in a new culture and society. It was also nice to have a break from the heat of Morocco!

That’s all for now! I’ve had trouble keeping up with pictures on this blog but I’ve been trying to post them to Facebook. Below are the links to the albums if you’re interested. Make sure to check out the video section of this blog too! As always thanks for reading!

Morocco

Amsterdam

Village Stay

This past weekend I left to spend 5 days in the small village of Beni Amir about 3 hours south of Rabat. Beni Amir is a small community of only a few hundred people. It is near the city of Fqih Ben Saleh which is a part of a trio of cities known as the “Triangle of Death.” The other two points of the triangle are Khouribga and Beni Mellal. A large percentage of people from these cities attempt to migrate to Europe and many have died trying to get there. Everyone in the village of Beni Amir knew at least one family member who has attempted to migrate to Europe so the visit was a great opportunity to learn about migration and its effects firsthand.

We arrived in Beni Amir around noon on Saturday to countless stares. Being a small community of mostly farmers, 13 American college students definitely stood out like a sore thumb. Additionally, we were only the second Americans to have visited the village so our presence was met with a good deal of curiosity. After having lunch with the president of a local association (Oulad Ghanem) at his house, we met our host families and moved in. I lived with a small family that included a mother (Fatima), a father (Falah?), a daughter (Layla, 17), and a son (Abdelhafid, 10). Although most families in the village only speak Darija, my host father spoke French and the kids were learning French in school. Communication was a challenge for me but because each host family hosted two students, and because my roommate spoke some French, we were able to have some conversation.

Our family lived on a farm that had six cows, at least one donkey, a couple horses, several chickens, a couple dogs, roughly a million flies, and a kitten that could fit in the palm of your hand. We learned that just about everything we ate was fresh from our host family’s farm. Olive trees grew on the land so we had fresh olives and olive oil with just about meal. The butter and honey were also made from scratch and tasted delicious. Bread (khobz) was made at home and cooked in an outdoor mud oven. One morning, we woke up at the crack of dawn to watch the mother milk the cows. She filled up one large bucket of milk that we later had for breakfast that morning. The rest of the milk was put in a bottle and taken to the village milk co-op. We learned that the milk co-op is a new project funded by the government as part of an initiative to support human development. Members of the community contribute milk every day to a collection tank where it is stored and cooled. The amount each family contributes is measured and recorded. The milk eventually gets taken to the city to be analyzed and then is distributed to large companies like Dannon to be used in their yoghurt and cheese products. The villagers receive about 3 dh (about $0.33)/ liter of milk and can receive more depending on the overall quality of the milk. It was very interesting to watch all the villagers come to the co-op in the morning after milking their cows to drop off their milk.

My host family lived in a fairly large house that was also fairly empty. The furniture in the main living room/salon where we slept consisted of rugs that covered the concrete floor and two small moveable tables. We ate all meals sitting on the ground around one of these tables. However, due to the abundance of rugs and movability of the tables, mealtime took place wherever seemed most convenient. Dishes were washed outside on a small concrete slab and our bathroom was an outhouse with a Turkish toilet inside.

During our stay here, we had discussions with village locals to hear their stories and ask them questions relating to migration and its effect on their community. Because life in the village is more traditional than in the city, gender roles are divided clearly. All women wear a hijab (veil to cover the hair) and are responsible for things within the private sphere of life including raising the children, taking care of household chores, and cooking. Men are responsible for financial support and things involved within the public sphere. Because of this divide, we held two sessions: one for the women of the village and one for the men. Some of the men told stories of crossing into Europe illegally. Some succeeded, others were deported. The men told us how happy they were to have Americans visit so we could tell everyone at home that the people of Morocco are kind, welcoming, and peace-loving Muslims. The women all shared a desire to do something more with their lives. Women in the village often marry as young as 14 and because of this, most have only an 8th grade education. Many shared a strong desire to go to Europe and when asked who their ideal man was, they described him as a “non-smoker, non-drinker, good Muslim man.” Migrants who had been to Europe were also seen as attractive.

This short trip was a unique and special experience that won’t soon be forgotten. Other highlights of this trip included a visit to the local preschool and kindergarten to teach the children English numbers and letters, a visit to the weekly souk where you buy or sell just about anything, and a visit to the waterfall in Beni Mellal. I will try to put up pictures soon.

One last note: For those concerned about the safety of the region following the spread of the anti-Muslim film and the subsequent riots throughout the Muslim world, there is no need to worry. Protests were held in Casablanca on Sept. 12th but were not violent. I have felt completely safe while here and I have not witnessed any hostility towards Americans.

Anyways, that’s all for now. Thanks for reading!

Homestay, Moroccan Culture, and School

Salam wa alaikum! I have now completed my first week in Morocco and I must admit that I’m even more excited now for the rest of the semester than I was before I left. I moved into my homestay on Thursday and I really love the experience. I live with a mother named Amina, her mother (still not sure what her name is), and two host brothers, Ahtah (6) and Achraf (21). We live in an apartment-like dwelling in the old medina. There is quite a language barrier but the family is patient and eager to teach me Darija. Achraf took English in high school but has trouble recalling it. The grandmother only speaks Darija and Amina speaks French at work and Darija at home. Ahtah started school on Friday is learning the English alphabet. He loves to show me that he can say A, B, C, and D correctly. I practice my numbers in Arabic with him. Ahtah also likes to pretend to be Iron Man and the Incredible Hulk with me. Luckily, the language barrier disappears during playtime.

In Morocco, there are four meals. Usually a light breakfast consisting of bread (called Khobz) and butter with coffee or tea. Lunch is eaten around 1 pm and varies but always includes Khobz. A light snack is served around 6 or 7 pm that always includes tea with sweet breads and flatbread, sometimes with honey. The main dinner meal is served later, anytime between 9:30 and midnight. Meals are traditionally served on one big platter and the family all eats off the same plate. Everyone stays in their “zone” and then the middle is up for grabs. Moroccans eat with their hands, but only the thumb and first two fingers of the right hand are used to pick up food to put in your mouth. The Khobz is served with every meal and it often acts as a way to soak up sauce and pick up rice and beans.

Hot water and western toilets are amenities that only some families in the medina have. Many families have Turkish toilets (squatty potties) with a water bucket in lieu of toilet paper. However, some families (like mine) do have Western toilets. Daily showers are uncommon and most Moroccans only bathe once a week at the local hammam (public bathhouse). My host family has hot water but it is expensive so it is greatly conserved. I haven’t experienced the hammam yet but I’ve been told it’s a large steam room and that the process is very cleansing.

School started on Monday and I have already learned so much. Arabic classes are 3 hours and 15 minutes long every day so I have a wealth of new vocabulary to try on my family every time I come home from school. My Migration seminar has started as well. We’re learning about Sub-Saharan migrants in Morocco and their impact on society. On Friday, we will visit and meet with local NGOs who work with migrants and refugees in Morocco. We also have plans to meet with Malian migrants and Young Moroccan activists. Next weekend we will take our first excursion to the villages of Beni Mellal and Fqih Ben Saleh, two cities in a trio of cities known as the “Triangle of Death.” We will stay in Fqih Ben Saleh with host families for 5 days to learn about the extent of migration from this region, as well as local development and traditional rural societies in Morocco. I’m really looking forward to it!

Well that’s enough writing for today, gotta get working on some homework. Beslama!

First Day in Morocco

Well after a long and sleepless journey, I’ve officially landed in Morocco. My first experience with local Moroccans however occurred on the plane before arriving. I sat next to a very nice Moroccan couple returning from vacation in Canada and Paris, who spoke only broken English. I ended up chatting with the wife, a French teacher in Rabat, the entire flight and managed to discuss American and Moroccan politics, the Arab Spring, women’s rights in Arab nations, the Arab-Israeli conflict, and her utter dislike of Mitt Romney with her. I also asked her about Islam and why she chose not to wear a hijab. She informed me that hijabs are a new thing to Moroccan Islamic culture that was imported to Morocco during the Iranian Revolution. She told me that her mother and grandmother never wore hijabs but now many younger Moroccan women do, she just doesn’t care to. She was also very proud to share that she felt that she had many freedoms as a woman in an Arab country. She did stress however that they were not enough. In addition to sharing with me the local hotspots I should check out, her husband offered me his services as an ear, nose, and throat doctor. I guess if my throat’s sore I will ask around for Khadij.

After arriving at the hotel and carrying our luggage up four flights, I immediately became aware of the unrelenting heat here. There is no air conditioning and it is very humid. I decided to take a walk a few blocks around town and see the sights. There is a constant bustle and personal space does not exist here. Street vendors line the streets and the sidewalks alternate between concrete and dirt pathways. As I type this, the call to prayer can be heard throughout the city. It’s quite an assault on the senses.

Later we were led through the old medina to the cultural center. After a 20-minute walk through narrow, crowded streets and winding alleyways, we arrived at the center. The center was built in the 19^th century and still retains some original tile. It has four levels and the top is a terrace with one of the best panoramic views in the city. The Atlantic coast is one block from the center and you can see to Casablanca and Salé, Rabat’s sister city. We learned here that not only is the center the only place in the area for college-level learning but also one of the only schools for American students in the area. Here on the terrace is also where we had our first homemade Moroccan meal. Wasn’t sure what most of it was but it all tasted great.

Our orientation week is jam-packed so I probably won’t post again until I move in with my host family. As always, feel free to ask questions and thanks for reading!

One week away!

One week from today, I will be getting onto a plane headed to Rabat, Morocco. I’ll be flying through New York and Paris to get there. I’m a little nervous but mostly excited. The last month I have spent preparing for my trip by reading several books, teaching myself the Arabic alphabet, picking out gifts for my host family, and beginning my packing. The books I’ve read have given me a deeper insight into Moroccan culture and history and now I’m very excited to experience the culture firsthand. Learning the Arabic alphabet, however, has made me very nervous about communicating there. I have a feeling Arabic is going to be more difficult to learn than German! Fortunately, I will receive plenty of classroom instruction – 3 hours every day, 5 days a week. Additionally, my host family may not know any English which will force me to use what little Arabic I know. I imagine I will be playing a constant game of Charades for the first few weeks. I still need to finish packing but it shouldn’t take too long. I’ll try my best to update this blog as often as possible. Thanks for reading and feel free to leave comments or questions!