Development As Freedom, Illiteracy in Morocco, Hope in Tech, and Persistence

Not too long ago I finished a book titled Development as Freedom written by Nobel Prize winning economist Amartya Sen. It was a gift from a dear friend and mentor prior to my departure from Washington, DC. I didn't touch the book for about a year until I found out that I was headed to Morocco with the Peace Corps. I thought it might be pertinent to have more of an idea of what it is like to work in the developing world, as it is commonly referred to, and to understand some of the challenges that have hindered its progress; so I picked up the book and began reading it during my visit to Venezuela last summer.

At first, the book starts off with technical descriptions perhaps to fend off some of the criticism on the holistic approach to development that the author is proposing. He talks about how too often many high planning committees within leading organizations like the World Bank, Inter-American Development Bank, IMF, and governments take a somewhat narrow view to development considering very a small set of data before engaging in massive development schemes.

For instance, many committees focus on increasing GDP and per capita income, but sometimes in doing so neglect large segments of the population, which may never benefit from the influx of money directed to various income-generating projects. Per capita income for example takes the income of a country and simply divides the number by the estimated population. It is widely believed that a rise in per capita translates to a rise in the standard of living for that country, but this assumption often does not reflect reality as much of a country's new wealth may be concentrated only in urban centers or among a small segment of the population of wealthy individuals. Some development schemes intended to increase the wealth of a country come through in terms of raising GDP and per capita income, but at the same time exacerbate poverty and widen the wealth disparity.

This book is a must read for all those thinking about entering the international development world and plan to seek change through changes in public policy. It contrasts the policies of India, China, and a host of other countries to demonstrate how integrated public policy initiatives that focus on increasing the opportunities to participate in the electoral process, changing policies that perpetuate gender inequalities, improving the quality and outreach of education, and limiting the role of government with regards to trade have the potential to stave off widespread starvation and pandemics and gives most everyone in that country the ability to benefit from economic expansion.

Sometimes while reading the book, I felt that the author was imploring some of the countries with crumbling infrastructures to take action by showing them that, for instance, holding on to power and limiting the electoral process may be more harmful in the long run because as communication between the people and its government is suppressed so is the information needed for governments to take action to avert any crisis. Not educating the populace, which some governments do with the short-sighted intention of keeping their people docile to remain in power, has the effect of creating a populace that will not be able to compete in the global marketplace and as a result will lose its ability to trade their brain power, a country's most valuable asset, for the commodities and materials needed to sustain their economy.

Why am I writing all this? Nope, I am not getting into the business of book reviews and neither am I arguing for any public policy agenda. I am glad that I read this book because it makes me reflect upon the many instances in which public policy in Morocco, Venezuela, and even in the U.S. has prevented people from being able to live the life they wish to live

Development moving shwiya b shwiya(little by little)

In the case of Morocco, the number one issue that I feel is impeding a rapid development of its economy is the high illiteracy rate. For all my life, I've lived in countries where illiteracy was not a main issue so I rarely considered how crippling it could be. It is still hard for me to fathom that nearly 50% of the country cannot read.  Back in 2007, Magharebia reported on the results of a government survey that showed that the rate of illiteracy had come down from 43% to 38.5%, but bear in mind that this is the national average.  Within the community I work with of artisans and primarily older, rural women, the figure is still above 60%.

The situation is complicated even further as Morocco, a land that has been conquered and ruled by various dynasties and empires from both East and West, is still pulled from every corner making it necessary for its populace to be fluent in French, Spanish, Standard Arabic, and now to some degree English in order participate in the global marketplace. Other countries are in similar situations; however, when nearly half of the population cannot read the country's official language of Arabic, it just means that it has a long road to travel.

One Perspective on Why

Just to put things in context for a second, Abdelkader Ezzaki from the Faculté des Sciences de l'Education of Université Mohammed V presenting a speech at the World Congress on Reading in 1988 wrote that the French Protectorate looking to further its political and economic interests took strict control of the curriculum, made French the "superior language of literacy", and demoted Arabic to a second language in French-run schools.  Furthermore, he adds that the French established "a highly selective educational system whereby the educational opportunities were severely limited and distributed on the basis of social class."  He notes that upon Morocco gaining its independence in 1956 the general illiteracy rate stood at nearly 90%.  Crazy! Therefore, considering how far the country has come since then, some may argue rather slowly, the efforts nonetheless have made a huge difference.

Tech illiteracy presents another barrier to growth. As a number of countries in Europe, Asia, and in the Americas are devising ways to manage the information overload, the majority of the population outside of the major urban centers of the developing world are just getting the skills to create content. While many buyers have taken advantage of the low-cost online shopping alternative and sellers have capitalized on an opportunity to sell directly to customers oceans apart, only a few options of that sort exist in Morocco.

At the mercy of the bazzarist

As a small business development volunteer, illiteracy is a major challenge. When conversing with a number of artisans, most expressed the need for a broader market, namely the foreign market. One would think, well, this is doable. We create some marketing materials, identify some potential partners, and then begin reaching out. Unfortunately, due to the high rate of illiteracy, opening up new markets becomes a long-term project. If the objective is to make it sustainable, engaging in this initiative raises a number of questions and challenging scenarios.

For example:

1) I can create the initial marketing materials, but will they be able to maintain them? Are they willing to learn some of the programs and techniques to create their own? Or are they willing to pay someone else to produce and maintain them?

2) Are they willing to devote some time to learning how to type and how to use various web search tools to prospect opportunities? Or will they need to pay someone else to do this for them?

3) On customer service management, how can you contact vendors in France if your artisan cannot speak French? Is the artisan willing to learn or will he/she be willing to pay someone to translate?

Moroccan artisana is some of the finest in the world. It is highly sought after, but in most cases those who produce it rarely receive a fair compensation for their hard labor. Why? One of the main issues is illiteracy. The vast number of bazzarists that exist today are around because they have acquired a foreign language --in some cases just mastery of the spoken Moroccan Arabic dialect as some women artisans deep in the Middle Atlas region only speak a regional Amazigh dialect-- or have some technical skills that allow them to serve as the link between the buyer and the artisan. These conduits are filling a vacuum and naturally making a profit. Consequently, because most bazzarists are located in large urban centers that draw tourists or help facilitate exports, the profit for the most part stays in the urban centers further fueling their growth while the small mountain village where the artisan resides is still unable to gather sufficient capital to cover basic necessities.

It's mind blowing to see how the inability to read and write plays out in the artisan community. As long as people remain illiterate, they will be at the mercy of others. Another book I read called Export Marketing for a Small Handicraft Business by Edward Millard through Oxfam Press points out how critical the communication between customers and producers is for the producer. In Morocco, because bazzarists have direct interaction with customers, they have a better idea of what the trends are and what customers want. Sometimes a bazzarist will pass the information to a cooperative, but in most cases he will go to another cooperative to get what his customers need. Without direct contact, most producers continue to produce what they know without little to no modifications.

Hope

The situation may seem dire, but new developments in technology and government policy may improve the prospectus. Recently the Kingdom of Morocco announced an increase in funding for more literacy programs that will hopefully ameliorate the situation.  Just a few days ago in celebration of International Literacy Day on Sept. 8th, Magharebia wrote about the success of an initiative where women associations across Morocco are receiving funds to conduct Arabic language classes --  some volunteers work with some of these associations.  Additionally, they have also invested more funds as part of an emergency package to make it possible for rural children to attend school and to enforce a new compulsory education age requirement raising it to fifteen years of age.

Fortunately, advances in technology are also helping people overcome some of the literacy and tech barriers. Not too long ago, I installed Skype in several of the artisana complex computers and in the PC of one of my artisans. Doing so has allowed her and others to video conference directly with some prospective clients in France and even with some in the U.S. all for free. Where there is a language barrier, online translators are now helping people get the gist of a message enough to carry out orders.  Information that was once only available in hardback books in the aisles of various libraries is now being uploaded to the web.  Some universities in the states are now collaborating on a project where one can even take peer reviewed university level courses on the net for free (Check it out http://academicearth.org).  I hope these new development continue to grow and expand and will hopefully catch on eventually in the Maghreb.  The technology is certainly there as 3G coverage continues to expand exponentially every year.  Lastly, freeware is giving people software to learn to type, learn foreign languages, and to use popular document creation programs.

Is this bus going to .....?

I am actually in the same struggle that many Moroccans are in. I'm also illiterate to some degree. If it wasn't for the French that is posted in most urban centers and in some official document sources and the media, I would be completely lost. The other day I was traveling back to my site from a remote location and I was waiting for my bus back home. The bus as usual was not on time, but all the while buses from all sorts of different destinations going to the far reaches of Morocco where arriving and departing. I just started practicing Arabic script so at the present moment I still confuse a lot of the letters and read basic words as if I was a tape player on its last bits of battery life. Sounding out these words around people reinforces the idea that I may have mental issues and that therefore I should get first dibs on a seat and that I need to be spoken to loudly and slowly. I have no problems with this perception. I still need to hear Arabic loud and clear and I don't mind getting escorted to a seat instead of having to stiff arm someone else for it. This and many other experiences make you feel powerless because you have to rely on someone else to help you get back to your own home. I've never been in that situation and it frustrated me so much that it motivated me to tackle script with a little more diligence.

Persistence

I only hope that some illiterate Moroccans feel the same frustration, but I can see how many have simply adapted to a certain lifestyle.  Last month, I was visiting with a cooperative president, Amina Yabis, who was urging some of her members to take advantage of the Arabic literacy classes offered at the high schools. Sadly, I saw in some of the members' faces the same fear, low self-esteem, and a bit of apathy that I saw in some of the recently migrated students when I was working for the ESL department at my old high school. Even some of the responses were the same: that's not for me; I don't think I can; I'm too old; I'm doing just fine without it; or I don't have the time and so on. It's unfortunate that my Arabic was not at a point where I could have given them some sort of reality check or motivational speech like I often did with my former students. The good thing was that the cooperative president was persistent asking them several times and even visiting their homes occasionally to follow up on their progress. That persistence, I think, may just be the thing that will bring about change.

Literacy Agents

Getting back to the book review, Mr. Sen summarizes that an improvement in literacy is linked with a decrease in infant mortality, birthrate, an increase in life expectancy, economic activity, and will likely result in a more representative government. How come? Because people would be able to get the information they need to manage their lives better, the increased communication fuels trade, women who are literate may enter the workforce or put off childbearing until later, and more rural literate people would be able to have their voices heard.

While it would be ideal for a government to launch a campaign to eradicate illiteracy, NGOs and organizations like the Peace Corps can aid in the process.  Sometimes a lot of volunteers feel as if some of their work produces little result because perhaps there are may be no tangible results like a new building going up, a playground being laid out, or new equipment being delivered for income-generating activities.  While I think that these tangible results are noteworthy, I think the exchange of information may be just as critical.  Granted for the first year of service this can be extremely difficult when you're trying to speak a language so different from your own.  However, once you have a reasonable level down and have some feel for the culture, the exchange can be invaluable.  Being shown some best practices in reducing infant mortality, safeguarding the environment, or managing one's business can be just the thing that may help an individual or community grow and live more comfortably and preserve or enhance their surroundings.

At the end of the day, the work most of us do has to do with literacy in all sorts of different fronts. By no means do I or fellow volunteers assume to have all the answers.  Sometimes some of our ideas are completely inapplicable in the current setting and the locals may have a more practical way to go about doing things.  Information is exchanged nonetheless.

I don't necessarily think that providing information is imposing one's culture or values.  The exchange is what is important.  Some people may like an idea while others may consider it strange.  Prior to that idea being exchanged, perhaps there were very few ideas on the table or anything substantially different.  The information is presented, but ultimately it is up to individuals to apply the knowledge in their everyday lives.

Before I go off on another tangent speaking about the benefits of improving literacy, I think instead that I'll get back to ameliorating my own illiteracy.  Thanks for reading and I'll be sure keep you posted on my progress.

Making Couscous

Every Friday in Morocco families gather to celebrate their most revered day of the week. Often extended family comes to munch on a delicious serving of couscous usually topped with chicken, beef, or lamb and veggies doused with a tasty broth.

In one of my Dances with Wolves moments, I decided to find out the source of this scrumptious meal. I wondered, "Does couscous grow on trees? Does it rain from heaven like mana?"  I needed to know. Thankfully, one of our fellow volunteers knew the path to the origins of couscous. I and several other never-miss-a-couscous Friday convert took the pilgrimage to Khoukhate, a small village near Zaida that had begun teaching the steps to reaching a culinary nirvana of couscous making.

Khoukhate is a small valley of green with nothing but an arid wilderness to one side and towering desert plateaus to the other. When climbing onto the plateaus surrounding the village, it appears as if the ground level plane suddenly collapsed and the spring that gives this village its life carved out a beautiful and bountiful oasis. So bountiful, according to the locals, that the village for the most part is self-sustaining producing its own fruits, vegetables, and staple cereals like corn and wheat. Both the men and women labor in the fields, but when it comes to preparing the labor-intensive, time-consuming, but utterly gratifying couscous, the women take over.

There are many pre-packaged couscous varieties at the market that can be put immediately onto a couscoussiére, steamed, and served within a couple of hours. Couscous being such a central part of Moroccan tradition, I felt I needed to learn how to make it from scratch. Back in my home-stay, my host family gave me a five-minute step-by-step guide to make couscous, but I was not able to practice partly because I would have been the only guy with a roomful of older ladies toiling away on the flour. Not that I mind hanging out with older ladies, but at that particular point I was just getting to know my family and trying to understand the nuances of Moroccan culture and gender roles; so instead, I went out in typical Moroccan fashion with my younger host brother to a café to pass the time people watching until it was time to eat.

Whenever we would get back, I would pig out on the couscous as usual sometimes forgoing the meat that everyone sought out for more couscous. Sometimes I felt that I was in a couscous eating contest, but I wasn’t doing it to win any prize; it was pure self-motivation. To make things worse, when the family saw me slowing down, they aided and abetted my gluttony by adding more broth to my couscous so that it could go down easier and then offering the customary bssHa(To your health) as I stuffed my face.

Needless to say, I’m a fan. Back in the states, I purchased the 5-minute pre-steamed variety to spur things up a bit as a substitute for rice. I enjoyed it then; however now that I’ve had the real thing cooked Moroccan style, I’m hooked. Not wanting to revert back to the 5-minute boxed couscous, I went out to Khokuhate to learn the craft of couscous making alongside other couscous fans.

A group of fellow PCVs got together at the Association Ennahda for our couscous making class. The women's association with the help of a PCV is looking to draw tourists and study abroad groups interested in learning about Moroccan culture and experiencing it first-hand.

The association hosts the cooking classes, sells a whole wheat herb-infused couscous, zmita, and different types of jams. To learn more about the association, please click on the associations link above.

The association's president, who was going to lead the class, had already gathered the pots, pans, sifter, meats, veggies, spices, and Khoukhate's own milled whole wheat flour.

She poured the flour onto the ceramic couscous serving dish. Then slowly began sprinkling a bit of warm semi-salty water throughout swirling the flour with her other hand as it began to clump up.

Once there were enough clumps, she got sifter to separate the clumps from the flour. The clumps were then dumped onto several water reed baskets, which we all began pressing and rolling in

classic Karate Kid 'wax on, wax off' style adding a bit of flour from time to time so the granules would not stick together.

Then when the clumps were pretty much

gone, we dumped our baskets onto a sifter so that the sifter could filter out the right size couscous granules.

We repeated the process until we felt we had enough for a couscous feast.

Then, all the rolled and sifted couscous was put into a couscoussiére, kind of a two-tier type pot where chicken and veggies are boiled in the bottom pot while the couscous rests on the top tier pot, which is designed to allow the steam to seep in through its perforated base making it possible for the couscous granules to get nice a steam bath.

After 30 or so minutes, there was a gap between the couscous and all around the edge of the pot, which meant that it was time to fluff it out. The couscous was dumped onto the ceramic serving dish. After a thorough hand wash, I dug in and began to fluff the couscous.

The purpose of the fluff, of course, is to loosen the couscous so it doesn't become one big massive pasta ball and to move it around so all the couscous granules can get a better steam bath. This process was repeated three times.

Once the couscous was done, the chicken and veggies were cooked through, and the broth was ready, a little saffron was added to the couscous and then placed on the large ceramic couscous serving dish(I'm sure it has a name, but I can't recall it at the moment). The chicken came next, then the veggies, and finally a bit of broth was poured all around.

We quickly said our grace, which in Morocco is a simple Bismillah (In the name of God), and then dug in. A few of us tried to pick up the traditional way of eating couscous, which involves grabbing a bit and moving it and rotating it around to create a small couscous ball that you then pop into your mouth or use to start a couscous fight.

As usual I stuffed myself, but was outdone by fellow PCV Steven who claimed the title of last man standing. All in all it was a great learning experience. My hope is to replicate it in the States Inshallah (God willing) so y'all can partake of what I plan to make a tradition of mine: couscous stuffing Fridays.