The few times when I hate Morocco

This past Friday, I took a walk by the ocean with some friends in my neighborhood. After an hour, I decided to walk back to my house. In broad daylight, with people on the street in the safe neighborhood of L’ocean, I saw no reason why walking by myself would be a problem. I was mistaken.

As I walked back, I noticed a group of three teenage boys walking on the same street, staring at me and laughing loudly. I ignored them and kept walking until one of the boys ran up to me and said something in Arabic, and his friends laughed even harder. I shook my head and said “La etakalam Arabiya,” or “I don’t speak Arabic,” and kept walking. This was a mistake as they roared with laughter and evidently saw this as an indication that they could bother me all they wanted. One of the boys pushed his friend into me and they kept laughing. I stopped and said sternly, “Khalaas.” Stop. They laughed even harder and started picking up rocks and pebbles by the street and throwing it at me as we walked. One of them shoved his friend towards me again, and knowing very little Moroccan Arabic, I shoved him away and yelled “ya kelb!” (“You dog”). It was the only offensive term I knew having learned the Arabic word for dog that morning. They kept laughing and throwing more rocks my way. I gave them the finger and started swearing in English, but it only made them laugh harder and start mocking me.

We were not the only ones on the street. Though not crowded, there were small groups of Moroccan people around my age who turned to look and I looked at them and gestured toward the boys but they did nothing, said nothing. No one minded that a lone girl was being harassed. It was a big empty road with few cars passing. The boys showed every sign of wanting to follow me all the way back, so I crossed the main road onto a street where I saw two buses waiting. The boys followed along, watching me from the opposite road, so I ducked behind a bus and to my relief, I saw an empty taxi passing and jumped in. I was seething with anger and disgust, at the despicable behavior of the Moroccan boys, at the cold, impassive behavior of the Moroccan bystanders, and at the country itself. In that moment, I hated Morocco and everything about it.

The most frustrating thing about the whole incident was the language barrier for I had no way of asking for help or more important for me- swearing at those bastards. I had no control and felt frustratingly vulnerable. This weekend was a bad one for many of us. My roommate had her purse slashed with a knife in the Medina. Two other girls in the program got attacked by a man by the ocean, who actually carried one of them to the edge of the cliff before he let her go and jumped into the water. Incidents that make us never want to step outside by ourselves again.

My frustrations with Morocco have been building day by day, whether it’s the harassment, the unprofessionalism, the language barrier, or always being overcharged by people who immediately raise prices once they realize we don’t speak Arabic. While I haven't mentioned sexual harassment before now, it's extremely prevalent and I experience the catcalling almost everyday. It’s disheartening to come to a different country in order to learn about their culture but be treated this way in return. As a Muslim, I’m ashamed that people in an Islamic country don’t have better morals than this. However this post isn’t meant to shed a negative light on all Moroccans because most of the people I've met have been incredibly warm and welcoming and my times with them have been the highlights of my experience here. Unfortunately vermin exists in every country in the the world.

What I realized has been bothering me all along has been this complete lack of control over my own life. It’s definitely been a difficult time but as my friend Erum reminded me,

“[God] doesn't make mistakes-- this trip just seems to be part of His master plan for you. You didn't think it was just a coincidence that you *just* happen to be at all the right places, at all the wrong times (or in your words, right smack dab in the middle of history) did you?!?”

Thanks Erum. :-) And thanks to all my family and friends who have given their words of encouragement and sent their prayers. No message goes missed and they always cheer me up.

Now it's almost March and this month is going to fly. Madrid this weekend, spring break next weekend, and four Moroccan cities the next weekend. While I hate the lack of control, I have to admit there's something cool about waking up everyday to a different adventure.

I think they call this venting

It's one of those days when I just want to give up and go home. Studying abroad was never supposed to be this hard, especially not during my last semester of college. As if evacuating a country in the midst of a violent revolution wasn't hard enough, we now have to catch up on a month's worth of work that we missed while we were in Egypt. AMIDEAST in Morocco is so disorganized which makes it even harder to get back on track. I have to worry about graduating in May and of course Rutgers is as unhelpful as ever when I'm trying to settle out all my credits and transfers while I'm here in Rabat. The RU Screw is global. On top of everything, I have the extra headache of finding a job, since in May I will be unemployed and have no income, no health insurance, and bills and loan repayments waiting to welcome me home.

Everything is made 10 times harder without a decent internet connection to get all this work done. Moroccan internet is just horrendous. Even though I paid for an internet connection, it's extremely slow and flaky, signing me off every few minutes and then not connecting at all. I can't Skype my parents because my connection is almost never strong enough to connect, and they can't call me as much as they used to since it costs about $.30 a minute to call Morocco from the U.S. Huge thank you to my friends who make the effort to keep in touch by emailing consistently. You learn who your real friends are in times like these. It's not very many, and I'm not even surprised.

On top of everything, it appears protests are continuing in Morocco with planned demonstrations for tomorrow afternoon, with the usual cautions from our program managers to avoid all major public areas. It's easy to be overseas and advocate in support of the revolutions and democracy for the Middle East, but it's another thing to be living here as a foreigner and have them disrupt my everyday life. The fights, the crowds, the security clashes, the looters. Am I wrong for not wanting to live through it all over again?

This was not what I signed up for when I came to study abroad. I'm frustrated and annoyed and exhausted and stressed and right now I want nothing more than to be in a place where simply stepping out the door doesn't present a challenge. Thank goodness spring break is exactly 2 weeks away. I need to get out of this continent.

Why Morocco's revolution is not quite a revolution...yet

Yesterday tens of thousands of protesters gathered in the streets in the major cities of Morocco, one of the last countries to join the chain of protests throughout the Middle Eastern/African region. In Rabat where I live, people camped out in front of the Parliament and all around Bab al Had, Rabat's version of Tahrir Square in Egypt.

However, the protests were nowhere close to the ones that have taken place in Tunisia, Egypt, or now in countries throughout the Middle East and North Africa. Instead of unitedly calling for the overthrow of the King, they separated into different groups among themselves and called out on different issues. There were womens groups demanding changes for womens rights, labor unions calling for higher wages, and mostly citizens calling for the distribution of power. There were vendors selling food and the protesters parted for lunch breaks. It is similar to the kind of protests you might see in Washington D.C., except it is taking place in a region where the time has come for them to universally demand their rights.

Morocco differs from the other countries in the Middle East and Africa in that it is not demanding the overthrow of a dictatorship or the corrupt regime of the ruler. In fact, every single Moroccan I have met so far claims they love their king, whose picture is seen on almost every street and most buildings. King Muhammad who is only 47 years old is viewed similarly by Moroccans as President Obama is viewed by young liberals in America. He's...well, cool. He's well-liked and approachable as opposed to leaders like Hosni Mubarak who was so far removed from the people that he became a ruthless tyrant in their eyes. Moroccans do not want him gone, they want him to share his power with the people so that democracy still exists.

I don't know much about Morocco's political system. The few things I know about this country at all I have learned in the past three weeks. But as an outsider, it doesn't appear to me that Morocco like the other nations is headed towards a revolution. Even so, corruption is not absent here. Today my friend Tinora witnessed riot police beating a small group of remaining protesters in Bab al-Had, among them young teenage girls and boys. It's incidences such as these that have angered the people to the point where they will no longer accept it silently. Whether this will turn into something bigger is yet to be seen.

Here we go again...

This is the email we got from our program manager about tomorrow. Looks like the Al-Jazeera Revolution Tour is coming to Morocco.

Dear Students,

As you probably have heard, there will be protests this Sunday in Morocco. It is still not clear where or when these will be held, although they will most likely take place in Rabat in the Centre Ville area, between Bab al-Had and Babal-Rouwah. All indications are that these will be peaceful. Please avoid this area on Sunday and any demonstrations anywhere else. It is a good opportunity for you to connect with your home-stay family and catch up on school work. Please let me know if you have any questions. Don’t hesitate to call either me or Doha at any time.

Best,

Joe

"Here's lookin at you, kid."

I spent yesterday in Casablanca, a loud, noisy city that is best known throughout the world for the classic film named after it. Before we came to visit, Lauren and I made sure to watch the movie and of course immediately afterwards we wanted to visit Rick's Cafe.

Casa is only an hour train ride from Rabat, a fun and easy getaway for weekend trips. We stayed in a small hotel in the center of the city, ride behind the Old Medina. Casa's medina is much smaller and less crowded than the ones we have seen in Rabat and Fes. After settling in, we walked towards Casa's largest tourist attraction, the Hassan II mosque which is the the 5th largest mosque in the world. It was an impressive site, built on the Atlantic Ocean, with the tallest minaret in the world.

I was the only one from my friends who was allowed inside since I'm Muslim. The inside is just as grandiose, with large intricately carved walls and ceilings, royal chandeliers, and large, silent prayer rooms where I did the 'Asr prayer. Outside it was a beautiful day and there were groups of people, locals and tourists, just hanging out on the ledges by the water, soaking in the sun and taking in the beautiful site.

We passed through Rick's Cafe, which is on a small side street and on the third floor of the building. We didn't go inside but I wonder if they had the famous piano from the movie to play 'As Time Goes By.'

On our way home we passed the Naval Camp in Casa, and saw groups of marines who had just returned home. They were all really friendly and we started up conversations and started taking pictures with them. But then their commander came running out and shouting at them angrily because they're not supposed to take pictures in their uniforms. The marine I was talking to actually grabbed my camera and deleted the picture.

In the evening we went to a fancy Moroccan restaurant with a group of American students who are studying in Spain, who we met in our hotel. Since it was Friday, we all ordered different kinds of couscous. Mine was the traditional one with no meat and 7 types of vegetables.

After the dinner we tried to get a taxi to go back to the hotel and when he tried to charge us 50 dirhams, we scoffed and slammed the door on him. Mind you, this is only $5 in USD but hey, it's the principle! The group of us ended up walking back, which took us an hour and half, and by the time we got back, we were absolutely exhausted. Casablanca is not the romantic city you would expect it to be from the classic love story. In fact, in some ways it is more like Cairo, with dirty roads, broken sidewalks, heavy traffic, and lots of crowds.

Apparently there are planned protests to be held in front of the Parliament in Rabat tomorrow morning so we were told to be back from our trip today. I don't think it will be too huge, but that's what we said in Egypt, and look what happened there. I don't think I can handle any more protests. I guess I'll see what happens tomorrow....

Pictures en route to Fes, Morocco

Passing through the Mid-Atlas mountains, the Northernmost of three Atlas mountains chains extending towards Algeria.

Fes is known for its leather. This is a traditional leather tannery in the Fes medina.

This is me inside the Bou Inania Madrasa in Fes. It was both an educational institute and a congregational mosque.

This is the Volubilis (Walili), the best preserved Roman ruins in Northern Africa. It is in between Fes and Meknes.

A cute little donkey in the small town of Azrou. He looks so sad.

The snowy city of Ifrane. Yes it snows in Morocco too!

A new country, a new life

So it’s been over two weeks since I’ve been in Morocco. So much has been going on with settling into a new country, a new school, a new home. I haven't had time to update but I am super psyched that my blog post on Egypt got over 1000 hits- thanks so much for reading!

So what’s been going on? Let me start off with something I’ve realized since I’ve been here. In 2008, I had applied to study in Fes, Morocco. My parents hated the idea, the loan had a 14% interest rate, and my grades were barely high enough to study abroad. I planned and planned but in the end, nothing came together and all my planning was for nothing. Somehow today I ended up in Morocco without any plans to be here, on a full scholarship, witnessing the most exciting times in the Middle East, and only three months away from graduating with honors. Thus, I’ve learned that the things you want come together in due time, insh’Allah. God willing.

There have been lots of changes since I was evacuated from Cairo to Greece to Morocco. It’s been quite an adjustment but I’m finally beginning to settle in and learn the ways of this city. I’m living in Rabat, the capital, a small, modern residential looking city with a population of about 650,000. One of the biggest changes is that my roommate Lauren and I live with a Moroccan family: the mother Meriam, the father Amir, and two little sisters Azeeza (6) and Arania (2). They are incredibly warm and welcoming, and treat us like their own. Mi casa, su casa. Our house is in L’Ocean, right next to the beach by the Atlantic Ocean.

They speak decent English so language isn’t a barrier but the lifestyle is very different. The best part is that we have delicious homemade meals throughout the day. I thought Egyptian food was good, but Moroccan food is absolutely divine. It’s mixed with French cuisine so they make salivating entrees, the main one being the traditional tagine which is a stew mixed in with different meat, sauce and spices and served with bread. It’s one huge platter in the center of the table and we all eat with our hands. Below are my little host sisters who are very loud and playful.

Meal hours are also very different. We have breakfast before school in the morning, usually thick toast (kind of like a paratha) with choices of jams, nutella, honey and cheese. Our host mother packs us huge sandwiches for lunch everyday. Around six in the evening is snack and tea time, when we have cakes and pastries served with Moroccan tea. Moroccan tea is delicious, a sweet and minty flavor with Moroccan spices. Dinner is served late at night around 9:30, and the portions are huge. Fridays are known as ‘Couscous Fridays’ and is a special meal reserved for after juma prayers. Needless to say, my jeans no longer fit.

Classes are in Agdal, the posh area of Rabat which is lined with stores and restaurants. It’s about a 15 minute taxi ride from L’Ocean. I’ve switched over from learning Arabic in the Egyptian dialect to the Moroccan dialect which is called darija and is a mix of Arabic and French. Morocco was colonized by the French so almost everyone here speaks French. Ironic that I’m proving my French more than Arabic. I'm very behind on classes after missing two weeks due to switching programs.

Our time here has been very rushed and hectic with catching up in classes, moving into our homes, and touring around the city. Last weekend we had our first excursion, passing through the quaint little town of Azrou, the scenic mid-Atlas mountains, and the snowy city of Ifrane and finally to Fes. Fes is the largest city in Morocco, with a bustling medina and streets lined with souks and restaurants.

I met up with some Fesi friends who I met through my friend Ali in the States. Soumia and Mohammed took us to Palais la Medina, a beautiful restaurant with impressive decor, three course meals, live Moroccan music and performances by dancers, magicians, and even a mock bridal show.

Matthew, Lauren, Abesha and Mohammed all got pulled onto stage to dance. Tinora got pulled up by the magician who pulled strange objects out of her shirt. Don’t ask. And I got pulled upstairs, put into a Moroccan wedding dress and carried over the crowd on a thronelike chair. Hey, if the crown fits. It was a great weekend, with good company and good food.

However, our time here has not been without frustrations. I won’t lie that there haven’t been times when I’ve wished I could just go home because all the changes and culture shocks are so overwhelming. But at the end of the day, this is the trip of a lifetime and I would be a fool to abandon it. The internet here is even flakier than in Cairo and makes me want to pull out all my hair and drop f-bombs like Rahm Emanuel on a bad day. The weather is a lot colder and no indoor heating once again so I sleep with 3 blankets. Rabat is more of a day city so during the week, people begin settling into their homes around 9pm. Much different from Cairo, which opens its eyes at night and is loud and vibrant until the morning.

There are many nearby cities to visit in Morocco and hopefully I will be travelling a lot on weekends. I will be updating with more stories from here on. Pictures from my travels will be up next. The adventure didn’t end with Cairo; on the contrary, a new one has just begun. Stay tuned.

My article about Egypt's uprising in The Daily Targum

Here is the link to my firsthand account of Egypt's uprising in The Daily Targum, the Rutgers University newspaper.

Evacuation Vacation in Athens

After evacuating from Egypt to Athens, the day went by in a blur. Instead of recovering from our insane week in Egypt, we spent the day touring around the Athens. I hadn't expected to find myself in Greece but life has a crazy way of sneaking surprises on you.

Athens is beautiful, and after living in Cairo, it felt unnaturally quiet. It was odd to be walking on sidewalks and following traffic signs once again. I remembered what it's like to cross the street without having my life flash before my eyes. The air was fresh and the streets weren't bustling with people. But Athens can never compare to the vibrancy and excitement that brings the city of Cairo alive.

While there are stray cats everywhere in Cairo, Athens is full of huge stray dogs that like to bark at random people and follow them. They even abide by traffic lights. Apparently when you decide you don't want your pet anymore, you can just set it free on the streets. Since we didn't have any set plans while we were touring, we just let the dogs lead the way. There's always some kind of strike going on in Greece and today it was public transportation so we did a lot of walking.

Like any other tourists, we visited the Acropolis which is 150m above sea level and overlooks the entire city. On the climb to the top we were met with breathtaking panoramic views of Athens. The Parthenon sits at the very top of the Acropolis, a temple dedicated to the Greek goddess Athena and is one of the most ancient sites in Greece.

We also visited the ruins of the Temple of Zeus at Olympia, which was built sometime in 400BC and is located in the most famous sanctuary in Greece. It once housed the statue of Zeus, the chief of gods in Greek mythology, and once an ancient world wonder.

In between the two major historical sites we passed the National Garden, the Parliament building, and the Olympic Stadium. We had lunch and dinner at Greek restaurants, and their moussaka dish (eggplant) was amazing. We had dinner at a restaurant called Alexander the Great. I had lerada, beans stuffed with dry vegetables. The feta cheese was amazing, as was the flaming cheese and the Greek salad.

My flight to Morocco is at 7am so I'll be leaving for the airport in a few hours. I've slept about 3 hours in the past 2 days so I desperately need a nap before the airport process begins again.