Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Larache Spring English Language & Salsa Camp

Back in early April, I had the opportunity to participate in the Spring Holiday English Language Immersion Camp in Larache sponsored by the Morocco's Ministry of Youth and Sports.  I was looking forward to leaving the frigid temperatures and nonstop rain and drizzle of the Middle Atlas Mountains and to enjoy a bit of sun and hopefully a bit more warmth in Morocco's northeastern coast.  The camp was also an opportunity to change up the work routine from consulting with artisans on business ideas to working with high school age young people on language learning.

I and three other volunteers made up the team of English teachers, two volunteers were from the Youth Development (YD) sector, another was part of the Environment sector, and I represented the Small Business Development (SBD) sector.  In addition to us, the camp had a good number of local camp counselors who were quite good at getting the kids out of bed and getting them from one activity to another, and there were about 5 or so cooks fixing food for about 60+ kids plus all staff.

Every morning we would teach a lesson for about an hour or so and then after lunch we had the responsibility of running a club on anything we wished. An environment volunteer took groups of kids on scavenger hunts in the nearby forest and also allowed them to go swimming in the nearby beach called La Peligrosa or the dangerous one--the beach is literally called that by the locals who stuck with the name given by the Spanish back when they controlled much of the north.

Another volunteer conducted a number of team-building activities, which according to her was very hard to do given that most of the kids preferred to work independently.  I encountered a similar problem when playing basketball with some of the kids.  They were worse ball hogs than Allen Iverson taking on double teams rather than passing to the open man or sometimes they preferred to bust out some Harlem Globetrotter/And 1 type move to get a reaction from the crowd; however, more often than not, the attempt at some flashy move intended to make the opponent look ridiculous often ended in a turnover and a basket for the opposing team.  It was interesting to hear some of the campers later on commenting on the flashy move someone made and not about the team that had won five consecutive games.

Aside from a bit of basketball, for my club activity I decided to impart to these kids the one skill that I felt most qualified to offer: a little salsa and merengue dancing. So in my broken Arabic, I explained how the beats and sounds may sound a little familiar because much of the Caribbean is a mélange of cultures and traditions from Africa, Spain, and indigenous tribes that is constantly changing, adapting, and evolving. The merengue beat for instance is very similar to the Moroccan pop music called Chabbi(Arabic for Popular). For a little home country taste, check out this link:

Given the similarities in the beat and since many of the young people have grown up shaking their hips to their music, my introduction of merengue was well received. I remember in our Peace Corps training we were warned about how conservative Morocco can be, but we got very little about how liberal different areas of the country really are. At first I thought it would be difficult to put mixed partners together, but again it was no problem and the girls responded much like they do in the States, dumping the guys with two left feet for the ones who could move without stepping on their toes. We started with a little merengue first as a warm-up. They got the hips moving left and right, learned to step without looking like they were marching, and then I taught them a couple of style moves, but nothing too sensual although merengue is essentially a make-out type of music and not in the slow, romantic way.

So you can do a little comparing and contrasting, here's a bit of old-school merengue for ya:

I also got the couples to learn a few turns and we developed a bit of a routine for a club spectacular that would be taking place at the end of the week.

Then came the salsa. We started with the basic steps to the front, side, and stepping back to the left and right. Most got the moves although they looked a little robotic and had a hard time following the rhythm, but we continued to press on. The number of couples became even smaller as only a few could remember the syncopation and routine without stepping on their partner's toes. At the end of the class, I maybe had 4 people dancing out of about 20. I was happy to see, however, a few of my students who found my moves a little too inhibiting break out with their own routine. A group of 5 guys took some of my moves, added some Moroccan flair, and taught themselves a little repertoire in which they were all synchronized. They looked like the backup dancers to your typical salsa band.

Our dance spectacular was a disaster because there was a bit of confusion about who would be in the spectacular and then we had some last minute defections from shy kids; nonetheless, we pressed on and delivered what I think was the first Latin dance large group extravaganza in Morocco's history.  

Time flew by in Larache.  We were busy, but we still had plenty of time to explore and for fun.  Here are a number of things I'll always remember about Larache:

Larache and Ras El Ma: The camp site right on Ras El Ma' was a great location.  The eucalyptus trees that surrounded the camp sheltered it from the strong ocean winds, but still allowed a nice, cool breeze to pass through.  We had beaches of all kinds, one for the risk takers and one for the laid back floaters.  The oceanfront beach properly named La Peligrosa (The Dangerous One) held nothing back living up to its name as each waved revved back and upwards until finally crashing down in thunderous fashion.

The Loukus River and its inlet to the Atlantic were also quite scenic.  Everything was very green all around, there were lots of birds, and many colorful fishing boats.  The only downside to the beautiful scenery was all the trash strewn all over the riverbanks.  At one point I took my shoes off to feel the sand, but a second later I put them right back on when I saw several broken bottles and jagged edges sticking up in the sand.

Lixus: Just a bit upstream, there is a pretty well-known Roman ruin of a former sea port called Lixus, which the campers visited towards the end of camp.  The site is not as big as Volubilis, another Roman ruin near Meknes, but it does leave you with a good impression that at one point Lixus was a pretty important port back in the day.  It´s always interesting to walk through the ruins just to see how things were laid-out and to imagine how people lived.  It´s also a good reminder of how cities, civilizations, and people come and go leaving just faint traces of a their former grandeur. 

Morocco´s city on a hill: Larache itself sitting atop a rising plateau stands out as a beacon.  At night you can see its lighthouse beaming a green light, green being the color of Islam, thereby emitting Islam into the dark horizon as the Rough Guide put it.  The city itself was rather clean and the port city medina was fairly easy to maneuver.  

Multilingual and Multicultural: One could see signs in both Spanish and Arabic everywhere.  Many lodging options were called pensiones, restaurants advertised their bocadillos, paellas, and other typical Spanish dishes, and the kids roaming the streets would yell "Hola, ¿cómo estás?" instead of the "Bonjour, ça va?" commonly heard in most of Morocco.  I walked into a pharmacy to pick up some things and noticed that the pharmacist had her degree from a Spanish university posted proudly for all to see near the entrance and the entire transaction was conducted in Spanish.

Palm Sunday in Morocco: Lastly, being curious volunteers we decided to check out the Spanish cathedral in the center of town.  I had read in the Rough Guide that it was peculiar in how it looked very much like a mosque with its zellij (tiled mosaics) and bell tower, which resembled your typical minaret, and indeed it was a bit strange to see architecture and decor typical of a mosque along with effigies of Christ, the Virgin Mary, the Cross, wooden pews, confession chambers, and a grand altar.  We were met by one of priests who welcomed us and asked us to stay and to be part of the Palm Sunday ceremonies.  It had been a long time since I had participated in any religious rituals and I felt a bit weird taking part in this one, but for the sake of another cultural experience we stuck around and held palm leaves as the priests and an entourage of believers conducted a brief procession throughout the chambers of the cathedral symbolizing Jesus's arrival into Jerusalem.  We got some stares from some of the nuns who saw how lost we appeared to be, but others were kind enough to tell us what we needed to do and where we needed to go.  The head priest gave a sermon, they held mass, and then afterwards the priest that welcomed us gave us a brief tour of the cathedral, shared a bit of history, and introduced us to some Spanish volunteers who were there on a goodwill mission.  We asked him if Moroccans ever jumped ship and converted and he said that the church was there for all Catholics and that they did not engage in any proselytizing.  He said that ever since the turnover of territory to Moroccan authorities that the church had experienced a steady decline in attendance as much of the Spanish population migrated back to the peninsula.  He thanked us for taking the time to visit and told us that we were always welcomed.

Tapas bar with ocean views: After our visit to the cathedral, we walked up a block and found a bar.  We climbed up the stairs and found that the place had a nice ocean view and was serving not only your staple Moroccan beers, Stork and Flag, but also had Heineken on hand.  We sat down and asked for a round and to our surprise along with the beers came a platter of fried seafood, small salads, and olives.  At one point we got some calamari, then sardines, and then some white fish.  The food was complimentary perhaps following the Spanish tradition of serving tapas along with the drinks.

It was a bit surreal to be in Morocco, an Islamic country, and to partake of Palm Sunday activities, to be speaking Spanish throughout the day, and to cap the day with beer and seafood tapas, but in a way all those things I saw, heard, and did in just a few days in Larache are a good snapshot of what Morocco is all about.  Over centuries, it´s had influences from a number of different countries, colonial powers, and ambitious imperialistic dynasties, and to this day the vestiges of those influences still remain in its cultural makeup, architecture, and its language.  I enjoyed working at the camp and enjoyed chilling in Larache.  I´d stay away from La Peligrosa, but other than that there´s a lot to like about this town.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Button-Mania in Morocco

Sefrou hand-knotted buttons
Sefrou--Morocco is going crazy (Hmq as they say in Moroccan Arabic) over hand-knotted buttons. It's all the rage. It's mayhem & pandemonium wherever you go. Thankfully, a cooperative of about 40 women and many families living in some of the most remote areas of the country have responded to the call for buttons and are producing them at an alarming rate in order to dispel any notion that there are not enough buttons in the market.

In a move to quell some of the fears in foreign markets, a partnership between the Santa Fe International Folk Art Market and the W.K. Kellogg Foundation was struck to bring one of the leading figures in the handmade button-making industry, Amina Yabis, President of the Coopérative Artisanale Féminine des Boutons en Soie 'Cerises', also known as the Cherry Buttons Cooperative, to their market, taking place July 11-12 in beautiful Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Amina Yabis at Fez Artisana Expo
The cooperative is taking an ample supply of buttons that will be available for purchase. She will also be holding several button-making demonstrations at the event. If you're in the neighborhood, I invite you to drop by and get in on one of the hottest trends in the country. You can also visit the cooperative's site, http://boutonsdecerises.wordpress.com, to view a small sample of buttons and other products adorned with her buttons, but you will not be able to buy just yet. Reports from anonymous sources who did not disclose their names because of the sensitive nature of the situation have said that ordering from the web may be available upon the return of the cooperative's president in late August.

If I had to write a press release for the cooperative, that's exactly how I would do it.  Granted the rush for buttons might be a bit exaggerated and global markets are not in disarray over the imbalance in the supply and demand of hand-knotted buttons, but I do think the product is one of a kind and like many things produced by many artisans here in Morocco, all that's needed is a bit of recognition and marketing and their artistry would be in high demand.

Along with this press release, I have worked with the cooperative to create a website/blog that tells the cooperative's story.  It's been a work in progress for quite some time so it's nice to see it up and running. Just imagine getting all the info for a site in two languages that you can half speak. Many of the photos came from a guest photographer all the way from Argentina that decided to help the cooperative during her short visit to Sefrou. Thank you very much Jimena for the shots and thank you, Mr. Gregg Johnson, RPCV Morocco, for providing a lot of the history and for continuing to assist the cooperative at the market.

Sometimes it does feel as if the whole city is caught up in button-making. As I walk around town in the morning and afternoon, I see many women sitting just beyond their front door with a small basket, a small spindle, and some thread sewing buttons at remarkable speeds.  In the evenings, small groups of women gather at the city's main plaza to chat it up and to weave buttons.  At night, as the late-night dinner cooks in either a tagine(Moroccan cone-shaped crock pot) or the pressure cooker, they continue to wind the intricate patterns into the tiniest of buttons. In the case of my host family, all my host siblings even as young as 5 years old were weaving the buttons. So in a way at least for Sefrou, it is pandemonium.  My hope is that the pandemonium spreads to the U.S. and other areas where the artistry will be recognized and valued, which in turn would improve the livelihood of all involved in the button-making mayhem.