Bridging the Rural and Urban Divide

I've been lucky to have the chance to host a number of Returned Peace Corps Volunteers (RPCVs) that have served elsewhere over the last couple of years.  We have had some very enlightening conversations.  One topic that we always bring up is our respective tours of service.  I am always curious to find out what other Peace Corps countries are doing and to hear about any successes and challenges they have had.

All of the Peace Corps Volunteers (PCVs) I've hosted have come from Sub-Saharan Africa.  Most of these PCVs have had a much more challenging experience from the viewpoint of having to do more with less.  The last RPCV that came through remarked about how impressive Morocco's transportation infrastructure was in comparison to her host country, which allowed her to travel with relative ease throughout the entire country  east to west and from one of the southernmost cities on edge of the Sahara in Zagora to the northernmost city in the country Tangiers sitting right on Mediterranean coast .  She was also astounded by the great diversity of food that Morocco was blessed with.  She had mentioned that for the majority of her service she had eaten maize (corn) almost everyday because that was the main staple that was available.  Other vegetables and fruit showed up at the market only on an occasional basis.  She said that it was tough at first, but then she got used  to just eating to subsist.  It's refreshing to hear these sorts of accounts because it is very easy to focus on the negative or the things that frustrate me about my host country and I forgets how lucky I really am.  It puts things in context.

Some RPCVs after having traveled through Morocco question why volunteers are here in the first place.  Compared to their countries of service, Morocco is the developed world.  When I arrived here, I and all my Small Business and Youth Development stagemates stayed at a very fancy star-rated hotel in the heart of the capital.  We had hot showers, internet, buffet-style meals, comfortable beds to sleep on, and a nice balcony to ponder about what lay ahead in the mysterious land of the far west.  When I took a stroll around the capital walking down the famous Mohammed V Avenue, I was impressed by the landscaping, the cleanliness, the well-kept French-style administration buildings, and even just how the roads were marked and curbs were painted.  My initial impression was that it appeared that Morocco seem to be in better order than my native Venezuela.  If I was to simply visit Rabat, Casablanca, and other major Moroccan cities, I would come to the conclusion that Morocco is developed and doing quite well for itself.  It makes sense for many RPCVs to question Peace Corps' role in such a country, not to mention that Peace Corps Morocco is the second largest program in the world with over 200 volunteers year-round.  When I hear their stories and their comparisons, it makes me question my role.

I live in what is considered a semi-urban site.  The population ranges from 50-70K.  The city is blessed with a river that runs through it, which irrigates the many farms that surround the city, and heavy winter rains and an occasional snow that keep the city looking remarkably green.  I have internet in my home, running water, and reliable electricity.  When I signed up, I thought that I would be hauling my water, lighting candles at night, perhaps performing rain dances with the locals, and then coming up with some development scheme, with input from the community of course, that would aid my community in some noticeable way.  When it comes to governance, I would have to say that the Fes-Bouleman Province may be an exception to the norm.    In just two years, they widened and repaved the main roads of the city, refurbished the old city, installed brand new street lighting and Christmas-like lights all over town, and built a few new administrative centers for various delegations.  Also, right now the road to Fes is being widened into a four-lane highway, which will make the 30 kilometers to Fes a breeze.  The municipality and provincial government are producing results.  A few of my fellow PCVs that have visited have said that I am indeed not in Peace Corps, but Posh Corps. At the start of service, I did feel as if my experience was not the true, genuine Peace Corps experience.

So it appeared that my community had a lot going for it.  They had easy access to one of the biggest tourist markets in Fes, reliable communication services, decent roads, public and private schools, and a delegation that seemed to be improving their lot.  I was also the fifth consecutive volunteer in this site.  I thought, "After so many cycles of volunteers, shouldn't these artisans be at a point where they don't need our assistance?  Was PC just scrambling for sites? Am I not going to be competing with what appeared to be a city with plenty of university educated young people who also happen to be unemployed?" With so many resources, I asked myself the existential question, "Why am I here?"  

It wasn't until my language began to pick up that I began to understand my role.  Once I got to talking with people about their life, their challenges, their history, and the work of previous volunteers, a need began to take shape.  I took a couple of trips to Fes to check out the artisana markets to see how well my artisans fared against what seemed, at first glance, like a saturated market.  The quality of their products was just as good if not better than most, but they weren't selling a whole lot.  The coops that I spoke to had no problems producing a large number of items on demand so production and quality were not the problem.  Despite being 30k south of Fes, our city did not see a steady flow of tourist.  Those that do come don't always stop at the artisana so location is an issue, but I thought, "Why not sell in Fe?"

When I asked, several artisans in my artisana complex unanimously chimed in that doing so would undercut their gains significantly.  They explained how Fassi, Rabati, or Cassawi bazzarists have a practice of lowering their purchasing price with every buying trip and then they turn around and sell the product supposedly at five to ten times the wholesale price to tourist.  Some of the weaving cooperatives in the region were formed for the specific purpose of selling at a higher price collectively.

Furthermore, they were also worried that some of the big-city bazzarist could potentially steal their product ideas and have some other coop or artisan produce the item at a lower price.  When asked about any trusted retailers, most said that they preferred to sell directly to a customer and not a middleman.  It was startling to hear these accounts.  There was so much distrust in their fellow Moroccans who were just 30k away.

If they weren't planning to sell to Fassi medina shops, who were they hoping to target?  Each coop I spoke to hoped to target the foreign market and wealthy Moroccans who in some cases are émigrés living or working abroad.  They say that foreigners are usually the ones that value their handmade work and pay the prices they feel the product warrants.  They told me stories about different artisans or coops getting linked with clients in Europe and how much money they had made.  These opportunities also led to trips to various expos abroad.  I looked up some Moroccan artisana retailers in the U.S. and told them that it was possible to link them with the Moroccan owners, but upon suggesting this option, one of my artisans told me that he did not want to work with Moroccans abroad.  He feared that they would exploit his goods just as the middlemen in Morocco.  I was reminded once again that I needed to bypass the middlemen and find direct selling options.  Now, I was confused.  It's not just big-city bazzarists from Morocco that they were afraid of, but Moroccan bazzarists in general or maybe just other Moroccans in general? Hmm.

Well, feeling the need to get going on something I endeavored to improve the marketing of a few individual artisans and one coop.  Some friends with some fine cameras passed through my town and were gracious enough to take hundreds of product shots that I then cropped and modified for a catalog, website, and other marketing materials.  A previous volunteer had done a similar project compiling products from all artisans at the artisana and of other PCV sites.  The catalog ended up being a whopping 25MB in size even after compression.  I wasn’t even going to attempt something of that scale; instead, I decided to focus on one particular cooperative.  

I began work on an English-language website for the Cherry Buttons Cooperative.  We first set up a number of services like Box.net, a few Picasa Web Albums, Google Docs, Skype, and opened a Wordpress account.  I walked my counterpart through most of the services.  She began to use Skype immediately alerting her son in Belgium to do the same.  He installed it and from then on he became a fixture of our daily casse-croûte (evening snack).  My counterpart would call just as they were about to start.  They watched each other pour their tea, expressed how much they missed one another, and then spoke about their respective days.  It was cool to see how this technology brought the family closer.  For the Wordpress site, I interviewed Amina a couple of times and then spoke to past volunteers to get some content.  We then launched it just before her departure in late June to the 2009 Santa Fe International Folk Art Market.  I was happy to be busy, but the nagging question of sustainability was in the back of my mind the entire time.

I knew that a PCV or an English-speaking person would need to be responsible for the English version of the site, but I was hoping that with a French site I could begin to train someone on how to update, maintain, and respond to the inquiries that the site was generating.  With the help of Fouzia Chkar, a very intelligent and talented interpreter, we translated the English text to French and then we launched a French language version, Boutons de Cerises, of the same site in December 2009.  Fast-forwarding to September 2010, both the English and French sites were generating inquiries, but Amina had no one to respond to them.  I sat down with her from time to time to go through the emails, which ranged from questions about prices, availability, production, shipping, the djellaba button-learning class we advertised, and about the coop's community outreach programs and trainings, but we often respond late because of schedule conflicts or lack of an internet connection or a working computer in her home.  From the moment I began the project, I asked Amina to recruit someone that would have the time to be trained on everything I had done, but for a number of reasons, she was unable to.  The website has the potential to do as requested, to reduce the dependence on a middleman, but without the administrative organizational structure, it's very hard to see it progressing.

For all the bad talk the artisana middlemen get, they play a vital role in the Moroccan economy.  My artisan community only point to the large gains made by the bazzarist, but fails to understand the underlying reason.  Most middlemen have as their lifeblood a network of producers, retailers, wholesalers, and direct buyers.  They recognize the value of building a clientele, whereas most of my artisans are only concerned about making the present day sale.  The smart Fassi middlemen creates a welcoming environment in his shop and invites you to tea to find out if your friends, family, or colleagues could be potential clients as well.  They have control of at least 3-4 languages.  They can speak Tamazight to their producers, Darija to their Moroccan colleagues, French, Spanish, or English to the tourists that pass by, and correspond in French or Fusha with international clients.  In addition to being fluent in 3-4 languages, some are also tech literate.  In contrast, within the artisan community, the illiteracy figure has to be above 60% (Here's an article on a recent move by the Moroccan government to eradicate illiteracy, "New literacy agency will target Moroccan women, rural dwellers").   If it wasn't for the bazzarist, artisanal products wouldn't move in Morocco.

When President Kennedy issued the call to establish the Peace Corps, it was with the intention of sending men and women to countries seeking technical and development assistance.  In Morocco, I don't think this really applies.  I don't think Morocco lacks in technical expertise; it's just that the majority have left or are leaving the rural areas for the big cities.  There is certainly a need in my town for assistance, but it is partly due to the flight of young people or brain drain to Fes and other big cities.  One of the reasons why my counterpart is unable to find a recruit is because that individual is likely to find a better paying or more prestigious job in the big city.  Some of the young men nearing marrying age in my town have said to me that they have little time to do unpaid NGO activities.  They're thinking about landing a secure job and accumulating some capital to build a nice nest for their future family.  In my opinion, the technical expertise--although I think it could be fine-tuned a bit--is already here; it's just not in many of our sites.

My counterpart is not alone in this pursuit for talent.  Even the government has problems keeping rural schools staffed.  Part of the reason why rural schools are understaffed stems from the misguided attempt to import help from the cities rather than to develop it locally.  Also, it could very well be that those students from the country, after getting a taste of the big city, vow never to return.  The Maghrebia article goes on to speak about the hardships the families endure being separated.  It also should note that another reason why teachers leave is due to the shoddy infrastructure in many rural sites.  Taking someone from a cosmopolitan city like Rabat or Casablanca and then placing them somewhere where running water and electricity are a luxury can be a shock for many.  These city-slickers can feel just as isolated from the community as a foreigner.  Ironically, I've heard of some cases where the PCV who has been living in the community for some time is one of the individuals that helps the urbanite integrate and in some instances serves as a translator for the university-educated Moroccan who's been exposed to French and English, but never to a Berber dialect like Tamazight.  Many Moroccans who take rural posts are doing so knowing that their appointment is temporary and much like volunteers begin to count the days till the end of their service when they may be relocated closer to family or to a more urban location.  I believe that as long as infrastructure developments lag in the rural parts of the country, the cities will only continue to sprawl, the youth will continue to migrate to the cities, and the human capital will continue to go where it can yield the highest return.

This urban and rural divide is not unique to Morocco; it seems that many developing countries face the same dilemma, but why is this the case?  Not long ago, I read an interesting account of how development funds from the World Bank, IMF, and other large loan-making organizations were issued to developing countries.  John Perkins, a fellow RPCV, in his Confessions of An Economic Hitman shares hist personal story as that of a self-described ‘Economic Hitman’ who traversed the world selling massive development projects to Third World countries for the purpose of putting these countries in debt holes they would never be able to climb out of.  He spoke of projects that were often constructed without a proper environmental assessment or without any consideration for those who would be displaced.  He also said that it was quite often the countries’ urban business elite or foreign companies that benefited the most from the projects reaping windfall profits from the expansion of the industries they already controlled.  From his insider’s account, it appears that the development schemes are also in the hands of middlemen/women.  Some of these middlemen/women proposed development schemes that would increase the energy supply of the cities so that the urban factories could expand production at the expense of building a dam that destroyed the fishing and agriculture of the people living downstream.  If infrastructure is largely a government initiative, could it be that the development monies whether through foreign loans or tax revenues are also being hijacked by urban middlemen/women who are widening the divide?

Morocco is making great progress on meeting many of their Millennium Development Goals, which in its case mainly involves projects to reduce the urban versus rural infrastructure disparity.  Since gaining its independence, the country has expanded the electricity grid and potable water availability considerably.  On education, there are also positive marks on improving access by building more schools and dormitories for those kids living too far from the nearest school.  On the flipside, I see signs of middlemen/women hijacking funds when I hear of water-usage showdowns between the farmers and the tourism lobby who wishes to divert more water from the low-yielding agriculture industry to the more lucrative golf courses, pools, and for the use of luxury hotels in Marrakech (USA Today "Drought, tourism endanger Marrakech palm grove").  The trade group argues that the use of water in the tourism sector yields more revenues than using it in agriculture and that may very well be, but the diversion would likely displace the farmers who will have no option but to move to the nearest city for employment.  I also find it interesting to hear of the construction of a TGV like train line on the Atlantic coast when much of the Middle Atlas is connected by a skinny, pot-hole lined two-lane road.  My hope is that the country's recent efforts to decentralize governance will help to bring parity between the urban and rural interests. 

Diverting resources is not the only way to hijack development funds.  Middlemen/women can also siphon funds through legal and illegal means.  Corruption is a muskil kbir (big problem) in Morocco.  In a country where the illiteracy rate is well above 50% in the countryside, it’s likely that only a few people understand where the money is going and how it’s been applied; the majority is completely clueless.  Abdelrrahim El Ouali shares similar views in his article for Inter Press Services titled "Morocco on a slow march to literacy".  The illiteracy rate is even higher for women so it’s likely that a female’s point of view is missing.  When it comes to development dollars, it is quite easy to overstate expenses to a grant-making NGO that is on another hemisphere and that likely does not have enough on-the-ground experience to scrutinize the accounting or the delivery of the goods or project.  Mr. Perkins is skeptical of the development schemes that are drawn up in boardrooms of the big grant and loan-making organizations for the very reason that quite often those development dollars or loans do raise GNP and per capita income, but in some cases do more to exacerbate poverty and, I would add, to displace people leading to the creation of large urban ghettos, favelas, and barrios.          

So where do some volunteers fit in the large scheme of things?  During our Pre-Service Training, we were handed a big, thick yellow manual titled Roles of Volunteers in Development along with our Participatory Analysis for Community Action (PACA) tool book that attempted to clarify the Peace Corps mission.  Our program staff provided us with some insight of the artisana sector and previous volunteers shared their successes and challenges.  One thing that we were told repeatedly was that our role was not that of someone that should be doing the work for the community, but rather enabling the community to carry out the work.  We were told that we should view our role as a facilitator, someone that brings people and resources together.

Amina and Kawtar of Réseau d'Initiative des Femmes Marocaines

After a few months in site and after conducting some preliminary community assessments, a large number of volunteers realized how much power the middlemen/women had and decided to do something to balance the gains.  Our method to diminish the power and control was to empower our artisans with information, trainings, financial resources, and if need be, to serve as a middleman/woman ourselves.

My counterpart has benefited from these trainings and financial resources.  She said that the first volunteer, a fluent French speaker, helped her improve her conversational French tremendously, which opened other doors of opportunity.  When volunteers approached her about working on Camp GLOW, she was smart to know that one thing could lead to another.  This willingness to help led to meetings with prominent women business owners, gestures of goodwill from politicians seeking the support of her members, and an overall expansion of her business network.  She's been to the U.S. twice to participate in the 2009 and 2010 Santa Fe International Folk Art Market.  Through her masterful networking skills and because of her eagerness to learn, she has been able to cut out the middlemen from her business.  She doesn't rely on others for invites to various expos; she gets invited personally.  Had we not been there to provide the assistance (free-of-charge to her, but at the U.S. Treasury’s expense), I doubt she would have had this much success in such a short period time.  Her coop still faces many challenges as any typical business does.  Nonetheless, she's a great example of how grassroots development can take root in a community.

Volunteers across different sectors in health, environment, and youth development serve as facilitators as well.  Many have organized health screenings and AIDS awareness campaigns and testings, have brought resources to improve irrigation or plant trees, or to support a local short-film festival, or have invited people versed in women’s rights to educate women on the recent changes to the family code (Moudawana).  This year’s Camp GLOW was another good example of facilitators at work.  I and a few other volunteers worked to secure funding for the organizing association.  Once I linked the primary sponsor with the association, I stepped aside.  The accounting and the logistics were in the hands of the association.  The event had some successes and pitfalls.  Despite going over budget, by managing the bookkeeping this time around they also learned how to price future camps more accurately and the association is now more aware of funding opportunities for future camps.  I believe these efforts by various volunteers however big or small are making a difference.       

In Morocco, PCVs are going against the tide.  When a lot of young people are looking to move to the big city for university studies and work, volunteers are going the other way.  When a lot of young people are looking to improve their French, Spanish, English, or Fusha to enter into a prestigious school or improve their employment opportunities, volunteers are learning the colloquial Arabic or Tamazight dialects.  When a lot of Moroccan youth aspire to go to Europe or the U.S. to study, for employment, or better living conditions, a lot of us go to some of the most remote sites to endure the bitter cold, sweltering heat, blackout prone electricity, polluted water, stinky Turkish toilets, parasites, leaky roofs, and a host of other inconveniences that are normally not part of the climate-controlled and sanitized European and U.S. American lifestyle. 

Most business meetings are preceded or followed
 by a food-coma inducing meal

My mother shares many of the same sentiments that many Moroccans articulate.  They ask, “Why would you leave the comforts of the U.S. to live in a sub-developed country and why would you leave your salaried job for an unpaid one?”  Before I arrived to Morocco, I used to tell everyone, not knowing exactly what I was getting into and in true Peace Corps idealism, that I was going there to do my part to help people in whatever corner of the world I was sent to.  Now with two years into my Moroccan small business development experience, I tell people that I’m doing my best to bridge the urban and rural divide.  When I explain to my Moroccan friends what I do, I say something like, “Ana bHal kantara bin nas mn medina kbira wlla mn l-xarij ou bin nas f l3arobia”, which in my choppy Darija literally translates to 'I like bridge (kantara can also mean harmony) between people from big city or from abroad and people from the country'.  To which they respond, “Oh, so like a middleman, right?”  Right, but an unpaid one.  Upon hearing this, they say meskin (poor thing) and then they offer me some lunch.  I may not make money by linking people with resources, but I have had my share of couscous bribes.  Fortunately, until the infrastructure rolls in, I and other PCVs will continue to be the beneficiaries of this lopsided ordeal.  All I can say to all that are lucky to be chosen for this post is to enjoy it while you can.   

Interior and Exterior Affairs: Confronting the Lingerie Merchants

Continuing on with my observations and reflections on gender roles and public and private spheres in Moroccan society, I wanted to bring to your attention an interesting article about a movement in Saudi Arabia aimed at replacing male attendants or merchants of women's lingerie with female attendants. Once again, it was another bit of news that helped me to take note of my surroundings and to try to understand why Morocco would put men instead of women as vendors of women's undergarments.

The BBC article titled "Saudi lingerie trade in a twist" goes on to say that a lot of women feel uncomfortable providing information on sizes and preferences to male strangers. You may wonder why a guy couldn't just estimate from looking, but even that would be difficult because in Saudi Arabia they are dressed in black from head to toe. In Morocco, you have a full spectrum of western wear to the more traditional djellabas worn by both young and old, but more so by older generations. The djellabas do have a lot more spice in terms of colors, fabrics(even leopard and tiger prints), and other accents like hand-knotted buttons and embroidery, but they also do not reveal much in terms of waist size. The article adds that even men are just as uncomfortable asking questions of their female patrons who may find their comments to be inappropriate and  could potentially get them in trouble.

Remembering back to my days working at various retail stores, I can't imagine being asked to manage the women's lingerie section; not that I wouldn't have minded helping the ladies, but I just know that I would not be able to provide the customer service that they would have needed. I can speak about men's underwear all day, but about women's I only have information from mass media like the Victoria's Secret fashion shows that I watch occasionally to monitor market trends and other commentary from some voluptuous ladies that complain that the current glorified anorexic look in much of the western world is making it harder and harder for them to find undergarments that fit. I can only imagine how weird it must be for my fellow Moroccans who manage the women's undergarments and the women's clothing shops. It's true that it is often hard to find a candid salesperson, but would the men ever tell a woman that that dress does make her look fat? I don't think most men conservative or liberal would, but women may and it is this honesty and personal experience that would likely keep customers coming back. From a profit standpoint, I am glad that I was put in charge of managing the gangsta rapper wear instead; despite having no real affinity to the style, but it's certainly a better match.

Venezuela is pretty open about panties and underwear. Females are for the most part the attendants of women's undergarments and clothing at your typical department store, but I always enjoyed the male street vendors(buhoneros) who would have no qualms about the merchandise they were selling and would yell from the bottom of their lungs, "PANTALETAS, PANTALETAS, PANTALETAS DE EEUU!!!"(PANTIES, PANTIES, PANTIES FROM THE USA!!!). And if they didn't get your attention then, they would put them in front of your face and yell in your ear that they were on sale. I'm sure there may be a number of male street vendors in Moroccan souks (markets) who have no reservations about what they're selling and are yelling "SLIP, SLIP, SLIP MN FRANSA!!!"(PANTIES, PANTIES, PANTIES FROM FRANCE), but I have yet to hear any and I would be surprised to hear one since sometimes Moroccans add a "Hashak"(I beg your pardon) when they talk about their slip(underwear).

Given the uneasiness on both sides, it makes perfect sense to replace the male attendants with female ones. The movement and its organizer, Reem Asaad, acknowledge that doing so would put a large quantity of men out of work, and as such the government will be reluctant to make any drastic changes. Ms. Asaad is also going up against a very conservative society that believes that the women's place is in the home. Morocco is no Saudi Arabia, but they do have a number of things in common. If Morocco was to put in a ban on men staffing lingerie or women's clothing shops, they would also be putting a lot of men out of work--I do want to note that many women in Morocco do staff your more upscale boutiques and stores in your major cities, but in the medina[old city] and rural areas most of the vendors are men. Women in Morocco can work, drive, vote, and enjoy many of the same rights that women in the western world have, but there are societal expectations for women that have a religious or cultural basis that expect women to be solely, as my host father explained to me once, the ministers of interior.

I encourage you to read the full article because like Annika Sorenstans's debut in the PGA, the movement is bringing to light an issue that has been widely accepted or perhaps adhered to, but now that it is under a spotlight and because of the attention it is receiving, the powers that be are reconsidering the situation. Ms. Asaad is putting pressure not on government, but on the retailers themselves by organizing boycotts of male-staffed stores. She is also putting together lingerie training workshops for ladies, and she is spreading the word about her movement through social networking sites like Facebook, which I believe has a fan page where you can keep up with new developments.

I do like her approach in terms of confronting the issue at a consumer level.  I hope that the owners of the lingerie shops start taking notice and begin employing some women. I do not say this as an American or as a desensitized Venezuelan, but as a man who acknowledges his limited knowledge of women's undergarments and stands in solidarity with women who I believe can best equip a lady with the garments she needs to feel comfortable and look fabulous.

A correction of sorts: 06 Nov 2010 - When I wrote this blog, I wrote that I had yet to hear a Moroccan street vendor advertise that he was selling women's underwear.  Well, the other day as I was walking through Khenifra's souq, I heard a young kid probably about 15 years old yelling in auctioneer mode "SLIP, SLIP, SLIP, miyatayn ryal (10DH)".  I was happy to hear it.  I only wished I had been walking with a female so that I could then observe how he would go about promoting the quality of his product.  Oh well, next time, inshallah.

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.