Women's Empowerment Conferences

Rabha teaching Maternal Health and Childcare

Just before Ramadan I started planning a set of Women's Empowerment Conferences. Reflecting upon my two years here in Morocco, I found that the vast majority of my service was spent teaching women that they are entitled to the same opportunities as men are. In fact I even told my Country Director, Peggy McClure, during my exit interview in Rabat a couple weeks ago that the theme of my service was women's empowerment.

Things as simple as running each morning in Toon Town opened women's eyes and showed them that they can do whatever they can dream. Obviously, it isn't as simple as just telling them they can do/be anything they want to do/be. There are cultural barriers and stigmas which can only be overcome in time and by time I mean way more than my two years here in Morocco. 

But, as always the first step is planting the seed and that is what I have tried my best to do. And little by little progress has become apparent. During my last six months in Toon Town I was approached by numerous women while I was running, who asked if they too could run with me. While the grown women never did actually run in public with me, many teenage girls did and at least the older women had the idea that it was something they could do too. It is obvious that change in Morocco will happen by the will and desire of Morocco's youth for a better life. 

My time spent with Rabha has changed her drastically as well. She has travelled all over Morocco with me for craft fairs and is now doing so on her own, a strong and independent woman. She has gained the confidence to speak in public at various events and is now a role model to other women. She teaches regularly at the Boumia weaving school and also travels around to different associations and cooperatives teaching others the natural dye process and showing the other women that a woman's role is not just in the home anymore. I am SO proud of her. 

The Women's Empowerment Conferences took place this past Sunday and Monday and I am happy to say with great success. Sunday approximately 35 women showed up for the conference in Midelt and Monday's training in Boumia also resulted in about 35 women too. It was so rewarding to sit back and watch the women lead and teach the others. In reality all I did was present a suggested curriculum to the two women who run the center in Midelt and Boumia and from there they organized and facilitated the entire operation. 

The program I suggested was this: 

9-9.15am          Introductions & Welcome-Annemarie

9.15-11.00am  You Can Dream Video-Rabha

11-11.30am     Tea Break

11.30-1pm       Maternal Health & Childcare Training-Rabha

1-2.30pm          Lunch

2.30-4.30pm    Moudawana Code & Women's Rights-Saida

4.30-5pm          Tea Break

5-6pm               Guest Speaker-Boutahir Lala Aicha

The suggested curriculum was adopted and presented by the women with enthusiasm. The 'You Can Dream Video' was created by a Peace Corps Vounteer and showcases the lives of six Moroccan women who had goals and successfully achieved them by not giving up regardless of how many bumps in the road there were. In between each woman's segment we paused the video and Rabha asked pertinent questions and encouraged a group discussion amongst the women. The women were engaged and I could not have been more proud of Rabha for her leadership at the event. In fact, on the second day I was so overwhelmed with pride for Rabha that tears streamed down my cheeks as she led her segments of the training. 

The maternal health and childcare training is the same curriculum we have been presenting to the women of the outer duars of Toon Town for the past two years. We tweaked it just a bit as the women of Midelt and Boumia are a tad more educated and know the importance of going to the hospital regularly throughout their pregnancy. Still the information was well received and the women were responsive and engaged. 

For the Moudawana Code and Women's Rights portion, Saida the president of a local handicap association presented two short cartoons which highlighted the women's role and rights when getting married or divorced. The Moudawana Code was put into play in 2004 by the King. Many women have not been thoroughly informed of their rights and so I felt it was important to highlight the Moudawana Code during the conference. 

The final session both days was a guest speaker which the organizer's of each training center identified and invited. Both speakers were women from the region who had a dream of starting their own business and have successfully done so. Both women stressed to the girls the importance of finishing their education (high school and beyond) and the importance of setting and fulfilling goals for themselves.

I also chimed in and told the girls that we are all given one life and that life is what we make of it, so dream big and don't ever give up on yourself. I also told the girls that if there is a career they would like to pursue, find a related outlet where they can get some voluntary experience/internship to give them a good look and step into what it is they want to do. I also explained my role as a Peace Corps Volunteer and how my two years as an unpaid volunteer will (enchalla) help me when I pursue a career. 

It was an extremely rewarding two days and I was happy that my friend Clare who happened to be visiting from London was able to attend and see the work that I am doing here in Morocco. Hopefully the women left feeling just a little more empowered and inspired too.

Until next time,

Miriam xXx

A Random Act of Kindness

Driss with his gifts

Driss's Gifts

A few months ago, I wrote a blog entry about the café owner, Driss, in Toon Town. A grandfather figure during my service, I’ve had many memorable times with him, sipping sweet mint tea and watching the people of Toon Town stroll by the café door.

He is one of the truly ‘good ones’ who has a kind heart and always welcomes me and my friends as his own family. While he only makes a small (tiny) income from his café business, he always has gifts of eggs, milk, yogurt and sometimes, even kefta (mincemeat) and he never accepts payment for tea or soda which he insists you drink until you can’t take the sugar anymore.

‘Driss’s Café’ was and is my most popular blog entry to date. I received many kind words from friends and family who read the entry and also from strangers who just happened to stumble across that entry. One reader was particularly touched by the story of Driss’s Café and contacted me via e-mail after reading the entry. This is the message she sent:

Hi Annemarie,

I recently found your blog on the Peace Corps Journals website.  I enjoyed reading your posts ... especially your recent post re: your friend Driss and his cafe.  Driss sounds like a really kind and thoughtful person.  I would like to send him a small gift as a "random act of kindness".  Could I send it to you, to give to him at your convenience?  It will fit in a small/flat envelope.  If so, can you send me your mailing address?  I appreciate it ... thanks!  

Thanks also for all of the great work you're doing in Morocco.  I'm sure you've helped a lot of people!

-       Shoshana

It was such a pleasant surprise to receive her e-mail also nice to know that my blog is being read and enjoyed by not only close family and friends, but by strangers too.

Shoshana’s package arrived a few weeks later and my friend Sara and I delivered it to him one evening. It was slightly difficult to explain to Driss, where the package had come from. A blog is a foreign concept to most people in my village. I told him that I write stories about my life in Toon Town and post the stories on the internet. I explained that one of the stories was about how kind and nice Driss is and that someone I didn’t know liked the story and also thought that he was a nice person and wanted to give him a gift to say thank you for being a good person. He chuckled to let me know he understood and told me to tell her, “SaHa bzzaf awd lly ar hem l’walidiness” which means, “thank you very much and may God bless her parents.”

The package contained postcards from the National Gallery in Washington D.C. with paintings by Picasso, Monet and other artists on them. There were also several napkin type papers with “Driss’s Café” printed on them along with a hand written card thanking Driss for being a kind person.

It was such a kind thing to do for a stranger and both Driss and I really appreciated it. I wanted to thank Shoshana publicly by writing a blog entry about her ‘random act of kindness’ which I hope will inspire more people to create their own ‘random acts of kindness’…making the world a better place, as we say in Morocco, ‘shwiya b shwiya’ (little by little), one person at a time.

Much love,

Miriam xXx

Driss with Dan & Kristen who recently came back to Toon Town for a visit 

Driss & Sara who also recently came for a visit

Ramadan Round Two

Not quite the end of the week as promised, but here nonetheless...

This is what a typical Lftor table looks like...time to break fast!

I survived my last Ramadan here in Toon Town which ended yesterday. Last year I travelled quite a bit, but this year I was in site for all but one week of Ramadan's goodness. While Ramadan is the holy month of fasting, I am convinced that people actually eat twice as much during the month by binge eating at night. I didn't fast,  but I still broke fast with my friends and family.

While the food of Ramadan is delicious; it is full of white flour, fat and oil. The result of this year's Ramadan-I can no longer get most of pants over my thighs. Seriously. I tried my hardest for two years not to put the 'twenty pounds most female volunteers will gain' on and as of mid-service medicals last year I was doing fine, weighing in at the same weight I came into country with. Now, I can't get the jeans I wore this past January on. Which just makes me want to eat more. Leggings it is.

Onto more informative news.

Neddia, my host cousin who lives three and a half hours Northwest of here in Khenifra, had a baby during Ramadan. In good timing as well. Dan and Kristen who used to be volunteers here in Toon Town were back for a visit the day after she had the baby. So along with Mamaksu and Baha we filled a taxi and set off for Khenifra to see the new member of our family.

Who needs the weather channel? Forecast: HOT

Oh. My. God. Khenifra in August equals hell on earth. This was the most uncomfortable week of my service, quite possibly my life. The combination of 120 degrees+, a tiny third story apartment, heaps of guests in and out to see the baby and fasting (no water!!!) was insane. At night we slept in a room with no windows, meaning no air movement. I was in a constant puddle. It was unbearable.

And the poor baby clothed, swaddled and wrapped in two blankets. Words can't describe. At night, Mamaksu and I sat in a tiny space on the roof while she deep-fried 50+ chickens and steamed massive amounts of cous-cous each night for the three-day naming ceremony. On numerous occasions I had to wake Mamaksu who kept falling asleep while sitting on a stool cooking. I am getting hot and irritated just typing about it. This will be a story I will tell for many years to come. So next time you see me, ask.

View from Neddia's living room...Mosque next door and all the men praying on the roof

The roof was turned into a salon for evening naming ceremony dinner's, men and women on separate days of course

Al Fresco Dining at its finest

Turning the roof into a salon meant putting temporary lights up, which they wired into the existing light switches downstairs...power shorted out a lot, leaving Mamaksu to cook for fifty+ people by candlelight.

Talk about a 'one-woman show' can you imagine cooking a three course meal for 50+ people in these conditions?

Chez Mamaksu

Cous Cous anyone?

Working Mamaksu, which all the children knew how to do: "Attainee shwiya iffulusan" whilst batting eyelashes and making pouty face...Give me a little chicken!

More Chicken Thieves

The final product...which may contain: blood, sweat and tears

The baby was tiny and remained nameless for most of my time there. The day before I left he was finally given the name Yaheya (Yah-Hee-Yah). While he is very loved, I felt awful for him. Neddia had a blocked milk duct and rather than telling us she was in pain and going to the doctor she thought it would get better if she let him feed from it. So during our 3.30am dinner, one of the other toddlers calmly announced that the baby had blood all over him.

He had thrown up his body weight in blood which he had been drinking from his sick mother. It was horrifying. There was more blood than baby. And to make things worse, everyone looked over then went back to eating. When they noticed I wasn't eating, they told me not to worry that if something was wrong he would cry and to finish my dinner. Then when they saw the look on my face wasn't going anywhere, they asked Neddia what was going on. It was then that she revealed her breast which was clearly infected. I told her to keep a hot compress on it until the morning and to go straight to the doctors when they opened the next day. She did and was much better by the time I left.

The teeny-tiny Yaheya

Yaheya with his makeup on...

Sleepy baby

After a week of melting (but not away to nothing), I happily returned back to the cool mountains of Toon Town. In an effort to button my pants again, I have been running as usual and also going for long walks. I've included some pictures which show my views during these walks.

Little Lambs

Preparing for winter

Road to Ait Ah Chouli (outer dwar of Toon Town)

Lonely House

Work will resume in September and in whirlwind fashion. My final month of Peace Corps. In an effort two go out strong, I am leading two women's empowerment day camps in mid-September, finishing up the final stages of my spinning wheel grant and training, and bussing 60 children to Midelt so that they can participate in a mini-marathon and get a taste of city life. It's going to be a good month.

My home for the past two years...Toon Town

Next week is my staaj's 'Close of Service Conference' (COS conference), which is a week of debriefings, medical/dental appointments and first steps in preparing for reverse culture shock.
It will be bittersweet. I am looking forward to the change of scenery and change of pace. Ramadan was s-l-o-o-o-w. On the other hand, this will be the last time I see most of the people I came into this country with almost two years ago. Goodbyes are never easy and it is going to be surreal as we reflect on the ups and downs, successes and (many) challenges of the past two years. But of course, most of all I look forward to celebrating with my fellow PCV's....we did it! :)

Much Love,

Miriam xXx

Overdue Hello!

Hello there!

I'm behind on posts, but have no fear I will get you up to speed by the end of the week.

For now here is a quick hello from me and Miss Lamby :-)

Miriam & Lil Lamby xXx

Oh yes she almost did...

Background Fact #1 Ramadan began on Saturday. It is now the most holy month of the year. Moroccans (and many Peace Corps volunteers) are fasting from sunrise to sundown. The whole country is more conservative than normal and praying all five times a day is much more strictly adhered to.

Background Fact #2 Most Moroccan's don't have showers in their homes. Instead they go to the local hemmam (public bath house). There are set hours for men to go and set hours for women to go to the hemmam. In Toon Town during the other eleven months of the year the men's hours are 6am-12pm and 6pm-12am. Which leaves the women's time from 12pm-6pm.

However, seeing as it would be extremely difficult to sit in a steam room and bathe whilst fasting, the hours change for Ramadan. Lftar (break fast) is around 7.30pm and shortly after that the hemmam opens to women who can enjoy the hot steamy hemmam until midnight. Then the men have use of it from 12am until 2am, which is an hour before suhoor (last meal before sunrise) is eaten.

Last night, I joined my landlord's family for lftar. We broke fast with hard boiled eggs and milk blended with bananas. This was followed by dates and an assortment of fried breads. The best fried bread being agrhom win tadunt (fat bread). Mama stuffed her bread with minced meat, but it varies from house to house, other varieties include thinly sliced onions, peppers, fat and an array of spices. It sounds a little gross, but trust me it's delicious.

We sipped on the banana shakes, plain milk, mint tea and coffee. Then it was time for Harira (soup of Ramadan and one of my top five Moroccan specialties). I love Harira. That is until I realize that it's been jazzed up with little bits of kidney. Then I hate Harira and try and down my bowl without having to chew the kidney bits. I had to swallow large chunks of kidney last night in an effort not to gag in front of Mama and company. I'm pretty open to eating just about anything these days, but the texture and flavor of kidney is something I have never acquired a taste for.

All of this was followed by chocolate flavored flan. I was ready to burst and certainly not looking forward to sitting in the hemmam on a full stomach. For almost 45 minutes I contemplated skipping the hemmam and bucket bathing in the morning. But, it had been three and a half days since my last bath and it's hot outside so I needed to bathe. Mama tried her best to convince me to go to the hemmam and then come back to her place for dinner and midnight. I told her I was already struggling to stay awake and that when I finished at the hemmam I would be going straight to bed. I promised I'd come back another day and stay for the midnight dinner though.

And so off I went to the hemmam. I was already off my game; walking in the dark with my bucket and bag of towels, clean clothes, toiletries, etc...I'm used to doing this in the daylight and to be honest I never go out after dark. The hemmam is attached to the mosque and I didn't realize that the evening call to prayer had gone off just before I left my house. So not only was I walking in the dark with all my hemmam gear, but I was also surrounded by half of Tounfite's men who were all headed next door to where I was going. Awkward. In case you don't get just how awkward, it is already embarrassing during daylight when I am carrying my hemmam supplies and pass a random guy or boy. Some creepers give a 'bssHa l'hemmam' (to your about to be/already clean health) which is totally hshuma (shameful) on their part, but even more disturbing for me as I know they are imagining me bathing. So walking in the middle of the night with half the town's men-who are going to pray-was out of my skin awkward.

Somehow I didn't die of embarrassment and I entered the safety of the all-women zone. I'm in the hemmam. Latifa, the girl who works the women's time at the hemmam (taking payments and handing out buckets, selling soap etc...) greets me and I wish her Mbruk Ramadan (Happy/Congratulations Ramadan). When you enter the hemmam from outside, the first room you step into is changing room. This is where Latifa sits watching television and all the women strip into underwear. It's an open room, meaning you don't get changed in private.

I set my bucket on the floor, sit on the bench that lines the wall and strip down to my bikini bottoms. Most women wear underwear, although there are a few who go commando and all go topless. I store my shampoo/toiletries in my hemmam bucket along with my collapsable stool, which I sit on while I bathe.

Before I enter the steam/bathing rooms, I always put the legs of the stool in place. So I grab my stool and the four legs out of the bucket. I flip the stool upside down so that I can insert the legs and BAM. My house guest has hitched a ride to the hemmam in the bottom of my stool. He looked like this and was huge. And strangely shiny...perhaps he had been feeding on my conditioner for the past week.

He'd obviously had a shock to the system being pulled out of the bucket and was frantically trying to scramble back into the safety of darkness. He was two inches from crawling up my arm. Now please hear me out; I was not scared of the beetle. He was rather large and definitely not invited, but I knew he couldn't hurt me.

To be honest, I was more struck with a panic/embarrassment one might have if they went to the hairdressers only to be told you needed to leave immediately-you have fleas or lice and get out! How embarrassing to show up with my bucket and a filthy bug inside. I was panicking because I didn't want to be judged by the other women for carrying this new friend into their place of cleanliness. And that's when it happened.

With the base of my stool at a careful distance in front of me and a panic-ridden face, I made a beeline straight for the front door to flick him back into nature...My hand reached for the door handle and I pushed down MIRIAM LAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO)!!!!!

Before I even realized what I was doing Latifa had seen the bug, dived in front of me, grabbed the stool and was screaming 'ur ghorm i3abbannm' (you don't have your clothes on). I was in nothing but bikini bottoms and flip flops. Another woman, was now holding me from behind and we were in what can only be described as a naked mess together as I began to snap back into reality.

This is the official definition of mortifying.

I was now being screamed at by both women 'llan coolshi irizan ghrs dina brah attudun s adazaln' (all the men are just there outside, going to pray)!! It was literally less than seconds away from happening.

If Latifa hadn't of been paying attention, it would have happened.

Latifa was fully clothed and got rid of the bug. She came back inside and I thanked God she was there. I also considered hugging her, but decided enough awkward naked touching had happened for one night. I exclaimed 'ursingh mani ixfinu' (I don't know where my head is) and she said 'ida' (it's gone). She then laughed until she cried. So did the other naked women who had been restraining me.

Until that moment, I have taken pride in my countless uneventful trips to the hemmam. Before coming to Morocco I read many horror stories on other peoples blogs. None quite as bad as going outside topless on the fourth night of Ramadan in front of the Mosque and half the town's men, but horror stories nonetheless. I have made it two years without committing any really major faux pas.

Those two years went out the hemmam door last night.

I will now always be remembered as the foreigner who took her clothes off and almost went outside in front of all the soon to be praying men. Ruined.

I bathed in record time and in quiet humiliation...quiet aside from the giggles as the story was whispered around the hemmam.

I can take it though, I mean c'mon, do you think I would have made it through the past two years if I didn't have a sense of humor? I laughed until I cried with Latifa and my naked restrainer. And for the next two months I am sure I will laugh every time I enter the hemmam.

And for the next ten years I am sure Latifa will laugh on countless occasions as she tells the story of 'Miriam the foreigner' who almost went outside naked...in front of all the men going to pray on the fourth night of Ramadan.

Blushing,

Miriam x

Summer Work at the Coop

Preparing the warps for the looms

Now that we have a building, the women have been enjoying getting together each day, as have I. They decided that they will work at the coop five days a week, the two off days being Friday and Sunday. Friday because that is prayer day and Sunday because that is souk (market) day. They get to the coop around 2pm and stay until about 6pm. The work that they do during those hours varies each day. They rotate each day between weaving, taking pictures of the carpets and going to the cyber (internet cafe) to upload the pictures. 

At first, I went to the fields with them to supervise taking the pictures, but now I stay behind at the coop, in an effort to make sure that they can do everything they need to do without my assistance. They take an average of five carpets with them to photograph and each carpet has to have five pictures taken. They have been doing pretty well at this. When they return to the coop I review the pictures and I point out any errors or pictures that aren't good enough. Of course, I praise them for all the good shots too. 

Following the photography days, I show up at the coop with my camera and USB cable and hand it over to Rabha. She then heads to the cyber to upload the pictures to The Anou website. As with the photography sessions, I used to accompany Rabha to the cyber, but now stay behind at the coop. When I get home in the evening I log into The Anou website and review Rabha's work making notes of any errors. The next day I accompany Rabha to the cyber and have her review her work from the previous day. If she doesn't find the errors by herself, then I point them out and she corrects them. 

I can't tell you how nice it is to have a place where the women can all come together and work. For most of my service, I only saw the women when we held coop meetings. Now I get to see them five days a week. While the women are weaving we make small talk, I play with Yemna's son, Yassine, and of course we end each day with tea. The women all chipped in and bought a small buta (propane tank), sugar and tea. Each day, someone brings a couple containers of water and a couple loaves of bread. 

On the first day of work at the coop, a display was set up directly across from the coop, by a woodworking shop a few doors down. The women thought this was absolutely hilarious. Never before had the wood workers put a display on the sidewalk. The women told me it was done for our benefit. They said that the men think that now that they have a coop building the women are tjjunt n l'flus (literally: full of money). It was a pretty fancy bedroom suite, but well above anything the women could afford. The asking price was 5,000 dirhams which is roughly $600. Pretty good deal for a handmade bedroom suite.

Enjoy the pictures!

Miriam x

Yemna & Yassine

Yassine

Strategically Placed Bedroom Suite 

Colors of the very first five carpets to be made at the coop

Weaving Away

Weaving Away

New Style Carpet

Apparently my arm tasted very good because this cow wouldn't stop licking it while we were taking pictures of the carpets!

This was taken during the dust/heat wave. The big mountain (Masskar) is barely visable due to the dust haze. 

This is the building where I throw my trash. From time to time a match is lit and thrown in to burn the trash pile down. You can imagine how good Toon Town smells on those occasions. 

Cooperative Chorouk at Cafe Clock in Fez

A couple of weeks ago Rabha and I went to Cafe Clock in Fes to put up the coop's display in the restaurant. Rabha was already in Azrou for a training so we agreed to meet at 1pm in Fes, which is only an hour and a half journey from Azrou. 

I took the early morning bus from Zaida which went directly to Fes and is roughly a six hour bus ride. Upon arrival at the restaurant a waiter greeted me and told me to have a seat and that Mike was on his way. Mike showed up not too long after that, and we began to discuss the ins and outs of the display. 

Time ticked on and before I knew it, it was already 2.30 and still no sign of Rabha. I apologized to Mike and explained that she was in Azrou for a training and must have been held up. Rabha called not too long after that and told me she was on her way and to tell Mike to wait for her. I told Mike that she was on her way and he said no problem that she can discuss things with his assistant, Khalid. Mike is opening another restaurant in Marrakech and wasn't going to be able to stick around as he has a busy schedule to say the least. 

When Rabha finally showed up at 3.30 I was fuming. She knew how important the meeting was. I kept my cool and told her how unprofessional her tardiness was. She apologized, but I don't know that it really sunk in, after all Khaild was there to talk to her, and I had been there to keep the appointment with Mike, so I don't think she thought it really mattered. Another high to low in 0-60 seconds, it's amazing the ups and downs you go through in Peace Corps. 

I spent the next four hours on a ladder, with my arms above my head, hanging carpets in what was well above 100 degree heat. Guests stopped to inquire about the display and I spoke to them with sweat literally pouring off of my face. It was gross and it certainly didn't help that I was already worked up from earlier events.

When the last carpet was hung I collapsed into a chair and drank a gallon of ice cold water while doing my best to ignore Rabha's medical advice-drinking ice cold water will make me sick. Rabha and I then had a very tasty dinner-Mike had generously told me to make sure that we have a meal before we leave. Rabha didn't know what to do when she saw the menu. She took about a half an hour to make her mind up as she was uneasy about ordering food that ran between 60-100 dirhams a plate. I told her not to be shy, that Mike had offered the meal and not to worry about the price. She finally decided on a grilled chicken breast sandwich. I had the tabbouleh, hummus and falafel plate, which is what I always order. Everything was delicious as usual. 

Before we ate, Rabha asked where she could wash her hands and so I told her to follow me. I led her to the bathrooms and we both washed our hands together. Then Rabha experienced her first ever automatic hand dryer. It was entertaining and she squealed when she put her hands under it and it came on automatically. 'Urjean annaygh shan lhawaj imchi' (I've never seen something like this)! We both laughed and went back downstairs to wait for our food. 

It was then that I started thinking about Marisa's ladies from Hdida. They had boarded a plane almost a week before that headed to America for a month long tour of the USA, where they will teach those interested in weaving how to weave and also take part in the Santa Fe Folk Art Festival.  I couldn't stop thinking about all the very many 'firsts' they were experiencing. It's hard to imagine what they must be going through. For me coming to Morocco was like stepping back in time. But for those ladies heading to America must be like traveling into the future. I look forward to talking to them and Marisa and hearing about their experiences in the USA.

Mike has already e-mailed me to let me know that the display is generating conversation in the restaurant and that we have sold one carpet. He is going to feature the display on the restaurant's website in the near future and will also be getting in contact with the writer from the Fes blog The View From Fez to hopefully interview Rabha and create a blog entry about the coop and their works. 

Fingers crossed sales do well!

Miriam x