Here, There and Everywhere

Souk L'Hdd

View from Cheryl's roof

View from Cheryl's roof

I recently arranged for Rabha to teach a natural dye workshop in Souk L'Hdd, which is just outside of Azrou. There is another volunteer in Souk L'Hdd, Cheryl, whose women were keen to learn and so after a couple weeks of making arrangements off we went.

We arrived to Souk L'Hdd around 11am and were meant to be having lunch and then starting the workshop. Unfortunately, things didn't go quite as planned. Sadly, one of the elder and highly respected men of the community passed away that morning and so the women were busy with funeral processions and the works and unable to get together for the workshop that afternoon.

Washing the wool the first day

In order to keep to schedule, Rabha, Cheryl and I went ahead and prepared the wool for the next day's session, documenting the procedure with photos along the way. The following day, we began the workshop at 9am with a recap of the previous day's activities via slideshow.

Cheryl introducing Rabha

Natural Dye Sources: Pomegranate Skins, Madder Root, Henna 3 Different Pots for Dying (each dye source makes three different colors depending on the type of pot)

Rabha teaching

Rabha teaching

Rabha did an excellent job teaching her very first workshop and it was clear that she thoroughly enjoyed her position as teacher. There were about fifteen women in total and all seemed to take genuine interest in the natural dye process. We had tea breaks during both morning and afternoon sessions, which were my favorite part seeing as Cheryl was kind enough to share her care package supplies of fudge brownies and homemade peanut butter cookies, which the ladies also enjoyed!

Coloring the wool

In the afternoon, on the second day, we took the ladies on a small field trip into the surrounding hills to look for natural dye sources. The women showed Cheryl and I some cactus like plants which had edible roots and tasted quite similar to hearts of palm. They also showed us loads of rocks which they cracked open to reveal mineral and fossil traces, which left me wishing I had paid more attention during my college geology classes so that I could have actually identified which minerals we were looking at!

On our field trip

On Sunday, the third and final day of the workshop, we finished up the natural dye process and then took a walk into town to visit the souk (market). Souk L'Hdd translates to 'Market Sunday' and so it is no surprise that Sunday, like Toon Town, is market day. After a brief souk visit and lunch, we returned to the training room to finish up for the day and congratulate the women on their completion.

Souk Taxi Stand :)

Finished Product

The women and dyed wool

Rabha has some extended family in the surrounding hills of Souk L'Hdd and we had planned on staying with them the last evening. Cheryl's family however, were very persuasive and managed to convince Rabha to visit her family for tea in the afternoon and return to them for dinner in the evening. Cheryl has a wonderful host family, whom we ate lunch with everyday except for the final day when we lunched at Cheryl's and did dinner with the host family. We were told dinner was non-negotiable and that we must come that evening to celebrate the success of the workshop.

Near Rabha's Family

And so we went on a short hike into the hills, met with Rabha's family for an hour or so and then headed back into town.                                                      

Looking forward to a tasty dinner, we headed over to Cheryl's host family around half eight. As we walked into the living room, a preview of that evening's dinner was waiting for us. Sitting on the poonj (Moroccan sofa) was Cheryl's host mom, threading heart, lung, kidney, liver and stomach onto skewers. And as if all those delicacies weren't enough, they were all wrapped in a healthy serving of fat.

Knowing that Cheryl doesn't care for the fat, they had prepared two fat-less skewers just for her. I however, was given the whole shabang. I made it through the meal by smothering each bite in bread and washing it down with gulps of sweet green tea. To be honest, it wasn't that bad. The trick is to turn your brain off, but the amount of salt masked any awfulness and I finished every last bite, with zero gagging and maybe even a teensy weensy bit of enjoyment :) Although, I will say of all the organs present, kidney has been and still is my least favorite...I just can't get past the texture.

The following day, Rabha and I set off for Ait Hamza. It had been five months since I saw my original host family and I was most excited about the short visit. As expected, the kids have all grown a few inches and are looking great. It was so nice to spend time with Hafida and even more special that Rabha got to meet her. As always, Hafida outdid herself with a ridiculous amount of baked goods and tea on arrival, then lunch, then tea and snacks again in the late afternoon and then an even more extravagant and delicious dinner. Even Rabha was surprised when we were brought the wash basin in preparation for dinner, she thought for sure that with all the food we had been fed throughout the day, there was no way we would be having dinner!

Hafida, Mimoun and Rizzlane looking at their new photo album :) 

They send a million thanks to you Granddad and Karen!


  

I purposefully brought Rabha with me to Ait Hamza as the women there have a fantastic cooperative which is functionally exporting without the assistance of a Peace Corps volunteer. I told her this was her chance to ask as many questions as possible, as whatever the women there are doing, it's working. The women were reluctant to share any information with her though, but Hafida promised to find out as much as possible and to let her know in May, when we return to Ait Hamza to conduct a natural dye workshop.

Bill, Me and Joe outside the new weaving school

After a most pleasant visit with the host family, we left the next morning for Boumia. Bill the volunteer in Midelt has been working with his counterpart on setting up a weaving school for the at-risk women in Boumia. Boumia has the highest population of sex-workers in all of Morocco and Hayat, Bill's counterpart is determined to give those women a chance at a better life.

The grand-opening of the school took place in the afternoon and there were six volunteers present to show our support. Rabha accompanied me and I was happy that she got the chance to see the result of all the hard work her fellow Moroccan, Hayat had put into the project. It is truly an amazing school and so pleasing to know that Hayat took the initiative and made it happen. To read more about the project check out Bill's blog entry on the event, there are even a couple pictures of yours truly.

That's all for now...

Much love,

Miriam x

Teach Backs in the 3ari (Mountains)

Back in October we had a week long Maternal Health and Childcare Training at the Dar Olmama (birthing center) here in Toon Town. A few months prior to the training, Moses, myself, my lil brother Carl (who was visiting from the USA at the time) and a few other volunteers hiked into the mountains to the outer duars (villages) which surround Toon Town. While there, we recruited two women from each duar to attend the upcoming training.

Two weeks ago, the time came for us to revisit those outer duars to assist the newly trained women as they conducted teach backs to the other women of their duars.

We visited a total of five duars over three days. The first day, we hiked an hour and a half to Ardouz which is the closest of the duars. Rabha, my counterpart, accompanied us everyday and was a tremendous help as many of the women were extremely shy and so Rabha helped them conduct the teach back. Upon arrival, we met with the Muqqadem (male leader of the duar) and he put the word out for the women to gather together so that we could facilitate the teach back.

After a successful teach back, we were invited to lunch. Moses and Patrick, the two health volunteers I was helping, were already eating (they weren't allowed to be present during the women's teach backs since the topic was women's reproductive health) and so Rabha and I went to a different house for lunch.

Lunch was a tagine of potatoes, peppers, and chicken and as always was pretty tasty. After lunch and a few glasses of sweet green tea we made our way back home.

Our Fly Ride

The next day, we took an old Land Rover two hours into the mountains to Ait Clymin, which is made up of a handful of duars. Ait Clymin is out there. To get there, you have to cross a river and take a non existent road. If you didn't know the duar was there, you would definitely never find it. Lucky girl that I am, I must have picked up a stomach monster or two at lunch the day before, who kindly waited until the next day when we were in this remote duar, to make his presence known. Awful. Non of the houses in this duar have toilets. Imagine having acute stomach pain (and I'm talking about the kind that doubles you over), the need for a toilet (and knowing that there isn't one), and all eyes on you, the taroami (foreigner).

When trouble wouldn't wait, Rabha led the way to the 'toilet'...the remains of an ancient mud house. Four walls six inches high, and that's it. Just enough to cover my bum, while the women washing their laundry at the nearby river, watched me assume position into full squat and with Rabha on standby around the corner. Talk about having an audience.

I managed to make it through the rest of the day and when we arrived back to my house, I crawled into bed and slept. When I woke up the next morning, I was one-hundred percent better, L'Hamdullah (thanks be to God).

It should be noted that throughout the entire day, while dealing with monsters in my stomach, Rabha was ever so kindly informing me on how I have the asamid (cold) in my stomach and that if I drink tea I will be tjjit (recovered). I tried my best to explain that, "no, there is no cold in my stomach, there is a microbe" (which  is what they call germs and parasites), but Rabha insisted it was asamid in my stomach. It wasn't until the next day that she finally accepted that it was not asamid in my stomach, but only after insisting that if it was indeed a microbe, I wouldn't be tjjit unless I had drank some medicine...and that is when I explained that there are microbes that only have life for 24-48 hours and then they die on their own.  End of topic.

The next morning we set off at 8am in a transit van for the final day of teach backs in Tamaloot and Anemzi. Tamaloot is the most rural duar I've been to in Morocco. While it is on the main road in the mountains, it is extremely primitive. For some unknown reason, all the children in this duar have haircuts which leave them with a tuff of hair in the front-center of their head and two tuffs on either side of the back/top of their head. It reminded me of the hair on the miniature troll dolls I used to have when I was little...poor kids.

The women in Tamaloot were welcoming at first, but as soon as they found out that we were only there to talk to them and that we didn't have any medicine to hand out, chaos took over. A handful stayed and listened to what we had to say, but the majority were shouting at us about the lack of clothes, shoes, food, medicine and bathing facilities (there is no hemam (public bath house)). It was upsetting knowing that we couldn't help them as we aren't here to handout those things, but it was even more upsetting that they wouldn't even listen to what we had to say, which was a lot of useful/beneficial information. Hopefully, the few women who did stick around gained something from the teach back and perhaps they will be able to share that information with the other ladies in the future. Enshalla (God willing).

Roof Tops & Cow Udders

First of all, apologies for my complete and utter lack of proofreading on the last entry...I'm really bad about proofreading, obviously, so thanks Mom for staying on top of things :)

Yesterday's Thought of the Day: I live for Fridays over here; Cous Cous Fridays (lunchtime) are like Sunday Roast Dinners...until you are told you are eating cow udder. I wondered why it was so chewy.

Women's World: For the most part roof tops are a man free zone over here. Especially now that it is a bit warmer outside, but still freezing inside the house.

Women use the roof for many things...

Hanging the Laundry

Keeping Warm in the Sun

Baking Bread in a Mud Oven

Hanging out while watching your friend bake bread

Sorting through grain

International Women's Day!

The past couple weeks have been productive and busy, which means I've got a lot of blogging to catch up on!

As you may know, yesterday was International Women's Day. To celebrate, I arranged a small Hefla (party) at my house in the afternoon. I spent the entire morning and afternoon leading up to the event in my kitchen baking away.

The women showed up around 3pm and were all very excited...I didn't tell them in advance why we were getting together, but they were excited as it was the first time for most of them to see my house. Party at the Tamarakanit's house!  Exciting stuff!

As soon as everyone arrived, I asked them if they knew why we had gathered together and no one knew. I explained that today was Leid n Tiwtmin (Festival/Celebration of Women). I went on to explain that since 1975, women all of the world have been gathering together on March 8th to celebrate being a woman and women's rights. I explained that women and men are equal and that there is nothing a man can do that women can't do too and that slowly by slowly the developing world is changing it's ideas on gender roles and women's rights.

We then watched "You Can Dream: Stories of Moroccan Women Who Do", which was made by Peace Corps Volunteer, Courtney Healy and is about women's empowerment. While watching the film, we sipped sweet green tea and feasted on corn bread, apple cake and orange, raisin and date scones. The women enjoyed the film and the food.

Turns out corn bread was a major hit, which surprised me seeing as it was the least sweet of the baked treats. Rabha explained that it was their favorite because they work hard to process the corn harvest each year, but that the only thing they know how to make with it is cous cous (made from corn).

We had a small discussion about the film and the women all said it was a good film because it shows how Moroccan women can develop their own ideas and even if there are problems in achieving their goals, the women in the film didn't give up. I told them the same goes for them, if they think of something they want to do, they should never give up, even if problems arise along the way.

I then showed them this cartoon, which they all had a good laugh at. They said it was just like Toon Town, that the men all sit around in the cafes talking about their problems all day, while the women are at home taking care of business. :)

There were ten women in total, but by the time I got around to taking a picture a few had left. We ended the meeting by discussing news with the coop and eating a communal plate of rice, which Yemna brought with her. The rice dish is stodgy rice with a dash of salt and commonly served as a first course at large gatherings or as a snack. 

More to come soon...

Miriam x

Pardon, what's that you say Governor?

Rabha and I finally got our anxiously awaited appointment with the province governor. After a couple weeks of not hearing anything, I encouraged Rabha to give his secretary a call and see what the hold up was. I still don't know what the hold up was, but we were given an appointment for 11am the next day (February 21st). 

Since the bus is the most inexpensive way to get to Midelt, we took the bus at 7am which put us in Midelt at 9am. With two hours to waste, we made a visit to the bank, post office and super marche (very small grocery store carrying a few 'luxury' items such as cheese, cereal, and pasta). 

We then hiked up the hill to the governor's office/home...two separate buildings, but both contained behind high fencing and military protection. The governor is appointed by the King and it's a lifetime position, unless the King isn't happy with the work in which case the governor is replaced. 

We arrived a few minutes before 11am, checked in with the secretary and took a seat in the waiting area. I didn't bring a book with me, seeing as we had an appointment and I thought we would be in and out and on the 1pm bus back to Toon Town...Silly me. Watch check, 11.30, 12, 12.30, 1, 1.30, I am now impatient and pacing around in the courtyard, annoyed and wondering when the 11am appointment will take place. 

Finally, at 2pm we get a wave to enter what I thought was the governor's office. It was actually the secretary's office...the other office where we checked in, was the governor's secretary to his actual secretary. Apparently he has a large workload...

We didn't wait long until the next door opened and we were invited into the governor's actual office. And what an office. Fancy. Really fancy. I want an office like the governor's office. And a secretary for my secretary too. 

The governor was a very pleasant man and our visit was worth the wait. Rabha and I explained that our coop is in dire need of a physical building (especially since the King gave us all these looms and equipment and we have no where to put them) and that no one in Toon Town (that's my new name for Tounfite, btw) like the invisible Caid (Mayor) has been of any help in assisting us with getting a building. 

The governor then asked me how much I pay in rent each month. I told him 500dHs and started panicking that he was going to suggest the looms take up shop in my house...He then said, "so find a building/house around that price and I will pay the rent on it until the Neddi (Women's Center) is refurbished and then you will be given a room in the Neddi".

Rabha almost fell out of her chair. 

We both graciously thanked him and made our way to the taxi stand.  

As soon as we were out of his office, Rabha excitedly told me that we would rent Laila Fadima's (coop secretary and Rabha's very good friend...cough, playing favorites cough) brothers' house...I asked where he lives if we were to rent his house and she told me that he lives there, but he is really only home at night. Um, yeah...so she was suggesting we pay him to live in his house. I don't think so. 

Without wanting to get involved in the politics of that suggestion (and knowing that the house is located far off the main road in Toon Town, I put the idea out there that the new coop building should really be located on the main road so that if by chance (big chance) a car full of tourists pass through Toon Town, they will actually see the building and even possibly enter it! 

Suggestion worked and Laila Fadima's brother's house was never mentioned again. L'Humdullah (Thanks be to God)

We spent the rest of the week viewing garages and houses on Toon Town's main road and are still in that process since we haven't found something suitable. 

Will let you know and post pictures once we find a place. 

Most of the places we have looked at have been double the 500dHs budget. The first place we looked at was a tiny garage which would just barely fit the three looms and doesn't have running water. It was offered to us at 900dHs, plus we would have to pay electricity on top of that. Entertainingly, Rabha got a phone call the day after viewing it...the man must have spoken to his wife and it was brought to light that our coop is known by the King. 

The phone call was to re-offer the garage at 600dHs a month. Why the 300dHs reduction? Because, the owners of the garage have written letters to the King in the past, knowing that he (the King) would be coming through Toon Town and unfortunately the King has never taken their letters. But, if our coop occupies their garage, well then obviously the next time the King comes through town, he will stop at the coop and since they own the building, they will be at the coop...with their letter in hand, ready to give to HRM, the King. We are still looking...

And in case you are lost in all this talk about letters to the King, here is a repost to clarify:


Whenever the King visits anywhere in Morocco, the people of Morocco photocopy their ID cards and write letters stating their wishes and give them to the King or his guards when he passes through. It is said, that if the King takes the letters from the people, then they are guaranteed to receive at least one of their wishes. 


Until next time, 


Miriam x