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OUT OF THIS WORLD

Happy Halloween! I’d like to write about the spiritual life in Morocco outside of Islam—in the spirit of the American holiday that I regret, is not celebrated here but is known.

Moroccans believe in three types of spirits or rruH: L’maLaika (angels), L’jin (genies), and S’sayatin (demons). Angels and demons are wholly good and bad respectively. But jins warrant a bit more explanation…

A jin can either be a bad or good spirit that exists alongside us, in our houses and in our world. They are just like us (have jobs, study, eat, die, reproduce) and are invisible. According to Samira, Moroccans believe that they sometimes appear, but it is more common to be possessed by a jin than to see one. One is most likely to become possessed by a jin, good or bad, when one is sad, alone, frightened, or in a dark place. They can fall in love with humans, and it is said that if a male genie enters the body of a woman and falls in love with her, she will never marry.

Anecdote: Bagrar or Bugttas is a famous jin who is known throughout Morocco. Samira’s neighbor claims that this genie was in love with her and stalked her. She also swears that she one saw him in a black jlaba and that he had glowing green eyes.

There is one particular verse in the Qur’ran, surat jin, that talks about these spirits. Reading this chapter aloud can help to burn a jin out of the body of a person. Samira told us of a sort of exorcism that she witnessed four years ago. A man had had bad relations with his father, fell victim to being possessed by a jin, and was unconscious. His family brought an imam to read this verse in the Qur’ran, and suddenly the jin began exclaiming (via the unconscious Mohamed) that she loved Mohamed and was not going to hurt him. The jin tried to stay silent to trick the imam that she had already left the man’s body, but the imam succeeded. Before she left, she apparently went on tirade against humans and our technology.

In Morocco, saying “bismillah” provides a short of shield to the powers of the jin. So the next time you pour hot water down your drain, a favorite home of these jin, don’t forget to say “bismillah!”

Black Magic in Morocco

According to Samira, many people believe in black magic and it is women who practice it. There are people, a shuwafa, who practice magic and give out potions and remedies to customers hoping to do evil to another person or to cure the evil that has been done to them.

To control someone’s mind: (most popular goal)
Method #1
To do this, women approach these shuwafas and buy a potion. To test whether this potion will work, one is supposed to attend a birth and slip the newborn some of the liquid. If the potion succeeds in corroding or manipulating the development of the child’s brain, the potion is good and will work. All that must be done is place the potion in an area of the house where the target will walk over it.

Method #2
If you’ve gotten a shweeya potion from your local shuwafa, wait until the recently buried body of someone in your village has been laid to rest. Travel with your friends at night, dig up the corpse, cut of the hands, and hurry home. Before sunrise, prepare a meal, using the hands of the dead corpse to turn the couscous, wash the vegetables etc. Then, feed this meal to the person you wish to control.

To make someone frequently crazy
Find a bird and tie a prayer to the foot (including the name of the ill-fated person). Another method is the scratch words onto the bird’s wing. When the bird flies, the person will experience insanity. When the bird is not flying, the person will be normal.

Black magic is outside the laws of Islam, but carries weight in the general population. Therefore, in order to counter the powers of this magic, many people turn to the practice of magic to reverse the effects, diverting business from psychologists and other professionals who may be able to identify a curse from a medical disorder.

DERIJA 101

(Written October 15, 2008)

One common concern among Peace Corps Volunteers is mastering a foreign language. From what I have seen so far, almost every member of my training class has studied a foreign language at one point, and everyone in my immediate Community-Based Training (CBT) Group is fluent in at least one other language.

Derija mgribi, or Moroccan Arabic, is a dialect of Modern Standard Arabic and is definitely a challenging language. With few vowels, it provides a stark contrast with French, another language that is spoken widely in Morocco. Spanish, Berber, French and Arabic have melted into one language, which is rarely written but spoken as the language in the street in Morocco. Because of Morocco’s history as a crossroads between European, Arab and African empires, derija’s structure and words reflect these foreign influences. Put in other words, at some moments, I believe that derija here has been built on the back of French, because many French words have found their way into the language and/or derija words are more easily translated into French than into Spanish or English. But speakers of Spanish will be at home dropping the subject and using only the verb at the beginning of a sentence. And those who have studied Modern Standard Arabic will need to adjust their ears, but can usually replicate all the sounds in the language.

Peace Corps Morocco has produced its own textbook, which the LCFs, like Samira, use to teach our classes, which are geared towards our final exam. My CBT group is moving quickly to cover all the basic grammar (including all the tenses, basic vocabulary), and soon we will be practicing for our final exam, which we all must pass in order to swear in as Peace Corps Volunteers.

The exam, referred to as the LPI, tests our ability to hold a conversation, talk about ourselves and our families (in Morocco and in the United States). There have been no cases in recent memory of Peace Corps Trainees who have been administratively separated for having failed the exam, but Peace Corps Morocco takes it very seriously and will retest trainees who do not achieve the minimum level, novice high.

SHWEEYA, SAFI and ZWEEN: Three Essential Derija Words

(Written October 12, 2008)

If you’re traveling to Morocco and can only learn a couple words before you leave, I would recommend these two outside of the normal greeting “s-salam allykum” and thank you or “shukran.”

Shweeya is most commonly used to mean “a little.” Though this word can be used to also mean, “a little,” “sketchy,” “kind of,” or “not really.” It’s very useful from describing someone who is untrustworthy, to telling someone to only serve you a little bit of tea, to explaining that you don’t feel too much better. 

Safi is used to mean literally, “that’s enough.” Don’t be surprised if a Moroccan uses this word to end a friendly exchange of greetings. They’ll signal that they would like to exit the conversation by saying, “safi!” When you are pleading with your host, begging them not to serve you any more bread or meat, a string of safi’s may help to slow the speed of their pleads for you to eat more.

Zween means “pretty,” “beautiful,” “tasty,” “smells good.” In Moroccan Arabic, there are not many words for beautiful or great as in English (gorgeous, fantastic, magnificent just to name a few). You might be asked, as we have several hundred times, to declare if America or Morocco is more zween that the other. Maybe this is when you say “safi” and move down the road “shweeya.”

CAFÉ LIFE IN MOROCCO

(Written October 12, 2008)

One of the first obstacles that I’ve encountered while in Morocco has been not having easy access to cafés. In many towns (and our CBT site is no exception), cafés are frequented only by the men and maybe the occasional ignorant tourist. Coming from Paris where I practically lived by jumping from café to café, this is certainly a source of culture shock.

The male Peace Corps Trainees have told me that little interesting conversation that might offend female ears goes down at these cafés. Instead, I am beginning to believe that these cafés serve as a means for men, who are often unemployed or underemployed here in Morocco, to chat with friends and survey the street traffic.

The other major type of café, which also appears to be dominated by though not attended exclusively by men, is the cyber café. In my town, this is the only way to get news about the outside world. Male teenagers, ages between 13 and 18, are the most common clients of these cyber cafés. They watch YouTube clips, visit websites about celebrities, and chat with other young people around Morocco. In a culture where dating is frowned upon, cyber cafés offer another environment where young people can socialize.

DEBRIEFING CBT PHASE ONE

(Written October 4, 2008)

An important phase of my training is ending, and I am headed back to the Seminar Site in Azrou, to check in with the Youth Development Staff. We’ven been at our CBT (Community-Based Training) site for about two weeks. In Azrou, I will see the other Youth Development Trainees, debrief about the work we’ve done in the Middle Atlas Mountains, and refuel for the next and final three-week phase when we will implement the activities that we have designed based off our research.

My fellow CBT site mates (Reid, So Youn, Saïd and Vishvini) are all anxious to have a break. We’ve worked very hard learning what we can about our dar chebab and planning out our schedule for when we come back refreshed and ready to go. Deciding to bank on our respective talents and experience, we’re offering classes (taekwondo, drawing, theater, French, sports, etc) and will be all working towards putting on an “Environment Day” in order to teach the value of taking care of the land around our beautiful spot on the mountain.

We piled into a small car with Samira and traveled two hours out of the mountains towards Azrou. I was able to complete the preparation and consumption of an avocado sandwich with a pocketknife and baguette while sharing the back seat with three other people. Vish and I relived our nostalgia for India and for Hip Hop while listening to her iPod in the back seat as we zoomed down the mountain and across some red hills.

We arrived back at the Centre d’Acueille, the hotel that Peace Corps has rented out, finding our friends washing their laundry in the sun and ready to greet us with hugs and news of their sites. Everyone was eager to talk about what they had experienced at their respective sites.

We will stay here for the rest of the week and return to our town in the hills, to which we have given the slogan,“many stairs and many stars,” on Sunday.

THE END OF RAMADAN

(Written September 30, 2008)

On the eve of Leid, or the end of Ramadan, I had my first formal cooking lesson with my host mom. Mothers all around our town were hard at work making cookies, which usually include almonds, in order to serve them he next morning to friends and family. Khadija, my host mom, used a large clay bowl and sat on a sheepskin on the floor to make the dough. She then instructed me to crush almonds, sprinkle them on top and add strawberry jam to the center before we baked them. They were delicious!

The next morning at dawn, all the men in the town put on white jlabas, a sort of cloak with a pointy hood, and headed to the mosque to pray. When they returned later in the morning, the women had already set out the cookies and cakes and were waiting for their friends and family to come inside to sit, eat, and celebrate.

Around 10am, friends of my host parents came to our door and sat inside, eating, drinking and chatting loudly. Because of the obligation for Muslims to fast during Ramadan, life can seem to slow to outsiders; there are fewer people in the streets. Business hold different hours. The energy in the community was almost sleepy. Seeing these adults and children on the morning of Leid marked a break.

In the late morning, Khadija took me down our street and officially introduced me to our neighbors, who happen to be Hamid’s extended family. We ate lunch with her parents, brother, and sister, and then ate dinner with Hamid’s family that evening.

THE NIGHT OF POWER

(Written September 28, 2008)

Today was the last Saturday of Ramadan, the holiest month of the Islamic Calendar, which means that my host family and other Muslims in Morocco celebrate “The Night of Power.” My host father, Hamid, owns a photo store off the main road and up the hill. The Night of Power is an important day for his business, because this is when mothers take their daughters and sons to get dressed up and be photographed.

My host mother, Khadija, thought it would be fun to dress me up in it as well—though she chose traditional Berber clothing when I tries to communicate that the clothes for nine year olds would not fit me.

Outside the shop, the locals flooded the main road and boys played with firecrackers. In the midst of a month that causes life to change dramatically and slow, this seemed like a frenzy! Men and women, girls and boys walked up and down the main road to socialize, shop and eat some of the sun flower seeds that are being roasted by vendors.

MOVING OUT: CBT, PHASE ONE

(Written September 26, 2008)

The bulk of my Pre-Service Training (PST) is spent at a CBT (Community-Based Training) site. The entire class of Peace Corps Trainees has been subdivided by language and technical skills. There are five groups total, with an average six trainees in each. My CBT group is the smallest and is headed for a beautiful town in the Middle Atlas Mountains. Our Language and Cultural Facilitator (LCF), Samira, is joining us there to teach us derija and guide us in our work in our towns dar chebab (see below). There, I will move in with my first host family, the Zouharis.

At the Dar

Peace Corps’s Youth Development Volunteers in Morocco are generally assigned to work in government-sponsored youth centers, or dar chebabs (pronounced D-ARE SH-Bobs) that exist under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Youth and Sports. These “youth houses” are constructed in towns where the government sees a need to engage local youth should in clubs, classes and other activities. Not unlike many developing countries, Morocco’s youth (under the age of 19) account for more than half of the country’s population, so the government has made the development of its youth a top priority.

The Moroccan government appoints the Mudirs, or Directors. Mostly men, the mudirs report to regional officials and oversee the yearly budget for each dar chebab, which is 500 dirham or a little over $US 70 when this post was written. Because of tight funding, dar chebabs cannot employ full-time staff and are dependent on volunteers to run activities, energize the membership and keep the space inviting. Peace Corps has been able to fill a void here, providing a full-time staff person (a Youth Development Volunteer) in dar chebabs around the country. The Peace Corps Youth Development program remains active in a site for six years, sending three volunteers, before moving out. After this time, the program (which aims to develop leadership skills among the youth at each dar chebab) should have equipped the local youth with skills to organize themselves.

Chez Zouhari

The Zouharis, who are my first, homestay, are Berber and live in a modest home on a steep side of the hill. Hamid, the father, owns a photography store and his wife, Khadija, assists him in the shop when she’s not doing the housekeeping and taking care of their three year old daughter, Aya. Hamid’s and Khadija’s extended families are not far away from their home; we live next door to Hamid’s mother, brother, and sister. Khadija’s father, a farmer, provides us with our produce and can be found easily heading out to pray at one of the town’s six mosques.

A Typical Day During CBT

The town where I am staying is built long-wise around the mountain, like a belt. Samira’s house, where we have derija classes in the morning, sits on the opposite end of the major road. Vish, So-Youn and Saïd live on this end of town, a good 25 minute walk away from the dar chebab, located on my side of town.

My typical day starts around 9am when I have language class for four hours. After we have lunch at 1pm, we have another four hours to take care of any errands, go to tutoring, meet with other organizations or officials in the town, do homework or work on a journal that we are responsible for filling out before we go to work at the dar chebab at 6pm to participate in activities. Dinner is around 9pm or 10pm, and I usually go to sleep around 11pm.

“S-salam l’allaykum!” (September 15, 2008)

We’ve officially broken into our derija language books and some members of this incoming class of Peace Corps Volunteers are beginning to take studying very seriously. From what I’ve learned, many of the volunteers in our group have had some instruction in French or have taken Standard Arabic sometime in the past two years. There is a big mix of enthusiasm, eagerness, and dread among the group, but over the next month or so it should begin to even out more and we settle into this routine.

Today we learned about numbers and possessive pronouns for three hours, breaking for coffee and cookies in between. Afterwards, we learned more about specific tools and strategies that we can use to learn more about our communities once we come to site. These tools, known as PACA (Participatory Action Community Assessment) tools, include creating seasonal calendars, daily schedules and other information gathering that would best introduce us to what life is like in our community and to gather this information in a culturally acceptable and sensitive way. An example of this is asking girls and boys to create maps of their communities. Each group will choose to emphasize different parts of the community when drawing the map, providing also information about where they spend most of their time etc. For a new volunteer, information about a common area where these two groups may chose to spend their time would be the best and more culturally appropriate way to structure an activity that would involve both boys and girls.

Studying in the lobby

Vish and Tim on break