November 10, 2001
Testimonial written by
OAT traveler: McKK
I was ambivalent about
visiting Morocco post September 11 despite having the trip planned for months.
My fears were put to rest as soon as I began to meet the people of Morocco.
People would approach me on the street and engage me in conversation. They
shared their sadness regarding September 11th and welcomed me to their country.
Pleasure was apparent when I attempted simple Arabic words. Our guide often told
us how peaceful Moroccans are and this was quite apparent. I traveled through
cities and in the country meeting only people earning their living and loving
their families. It is very possible that I will visit Morocco again one day.
Favorite Moroccan Foods
Bus stop heart
brochettes in 1/4 round with harissa
Couscous with buttermilk sauce or with pumpkin
Fresh figs
Fresh-cooked sardines in Essouira port
Giant shrimp
Harira
Homemade bread
Kas d'luz (almond milk)
Macaroons
Miloui (pancakes) with smin (rancid butter) or honey
Oranges
Bisteeya
Prickly pear fruit
Shebbakia
Snails on a street corner
Sfinges at dawn
Tajine with chicken, olives and lemon
Zituna (olives)
Favorite Moroccan Places
Any little hanute where
you get bread, Vache Qui Rit, water and good conversation
Imlil (High Atlas)
Djema el Fna
Sale
Spice/incense shops
Volubilis
Weekly market in the small towns
Favorite Moroccan Images
Auricaria
(Norfolk Island Pine)
Bougainvillea
Djema el Fna at night
Just about anywhere in Fes medina
Kids playing soccer in dirt lot
Snow on Atlas peaks
Tile work
Wool hanging above street in Marrakech
What has changed
A lot more English
Arrival of McDonald's
Cell phones
Internal tourism by Moroccans
Internet cafés
Less women in veils
More women in offices, police, etc.
No more children shouting "nasarania"
No more "small guides"
Phone books
Satellite dishes on apartment facades and in little villages
What has stayed the same
Bargaining
Donkeys on streets
Jellabas of women
Medinas
Moroccan pleasure at efforts to speak Arabic
Rooster calls in the middle of the city
Souks
Day 1 - 2 p.m. 11/01/01
Written by Doug Teschner
Well, we made it and are
headed north after big feast at Casa Women's Center. Great authentic food, much
better than a restaurant. It is different for me because I was just here 10
weeks ago. Almost like I never left. Hassan II Mosque tour was better this time.
Traveling on the tour bus was a lot different than the train. I miss the contact
with Moroccans that public transport requires.
Day 1 - 11/04/01
Casablanca - Rabat (on
bus to Rabat)
Written by Steve Hanchey
After reassembling at
Casablanca Mohammed V airport upon arrival at 8:00 a.m., the group continued to
get acquainted while waiting for straggling passengers still in customs and
baggage claim. Steve Hanchey, who had preceded the group to Morocco by 2 days,
was reunited with Ann Reese, a Special Education PCV at the Cheshire Foundation
in Marrakech whom he first met in 1985.
The Marché Centrale in
downtown Casa was our first stop. We marveled over the abundance of fruits and
vegetables. Ellen and I tried to remember the Arabic word for "turnip"
( ) but soon found out from the
nearest vendor. We talked with a woman vendor of various kinds of honey and
oils, including the famous "argane" oil from the Essouira region.
Back in the bus for the
short drive to the Hassan II Mosque on the ocean front the imposing 200 meter
high minaret can be seen for dozens of kilometers away. The scale and elaborate
interior decoration of the mosque was beyond our expectations. The highlight of
the tour for me was the discovery that the architect had built both a Moroccan
and a Turkish hammam in the expansive basement of the building. The Turkish
version features a beautiful circular pool in the center of a large marble
underground calderlum. Apparently neither hammam has been used yet as the
foundation which operates the mosque and its ajacent madrasa seeks a private
operator to take them over.
Lunch was at the
suburban villa of the Association de Solidarité Féminine, an NGO dedicated to
supporting single mothers by providing job training, nutritional consultation
and crafts to women at risk. A lamb tajine was enjoyed by all.
Back on the bus for the
hour and 20 minute drive through the parched Moroccan countryside to Rabat where
we checked into the luxurious and comfortable Rabat Hilton. In the evening we
were treated to a reception hosted by Jack and Carol McCreary, Marrakech RPCV's.
Jack is the Public Affairs Officer (POA) at the US Embassy in Rabat. The guests included various
Peace Corps staff and RPCV's as well as friends of Peace Corps over the years.
Our group included RPCVs from as long ago as 1969. Ellen was reunited with her
APCD, Peter Kreuge, now a USAID officer in Rabat. Many other old friendships and
acquaintances were rekindled during the lovely evening in the McCreary's garden.
Day 1
November 4, 2001
Written by Ellen Hunt
Arms on her knees, there
she sat on the curb alongside the highway, next to her cousin, her neighbor, and
her girlfriend, waiting for the bus, her brown calves shining in the sun. What
of it, she was wearing her djellaba and scarf and life was good, a moment in the
sun.
Day 1 -2
November 5, 2001
Written by Jim Teschner
Last evening, my two
brothers and I ventured into Sale to see a friend of my brother, Doug, who lived
in Sale in 1971 - 73. (I had visited him in 1973 and stayed in his apartment.)
It was night, we were exhausted, but who would want to sleep in the Rabat Hilton
when you could walk the streets of Sale at night , and exhausted! I'm from New
York City where most of life is scheduled 2 - 4 weeks in advance (as it seems)
yet we were dropping by at 9:00 p.m. without warning. We first visited his
former apartment - at least the second floor courtyard - I remember well his
sparse apartment, the Arabic/Turkish toilet, the sounds of the cock crowing at
dawn, the calls to prayer, and the extraordinary smells of the street! I missed
the comfort of our New England home but LOVED Moroccan life. But back to last
night. We wandered through small streets - they got smaller and smaller the
closer we got to the apartment. Brother Doug knocked on the door - we could hear
the sounds of their TV, and suddenly the door opened and we were greeted by a 10
- 12 year old boy - Adam. We all got 4 kisses on the cheek! This greeting, this
warmth, is so lovely, so sweet, so special as one feels truly welcomed -
wanted - in their home. The house was fairly basic - a main room, a small
kitchen and bathroom, 2 small bedrooms, and then a room we sat in that had
benches along the entire perimeter with very hard cushions with
"fancy" fabric. The pillows all had matching fabric. In the middle of
the room was a round table. Adam's father was there but his mother and sister
were away for the night. We all sat in the guest room with hard cushions. My
brother gave them photos from when he, his wife, and two teenage sons had been
there last August. Gifts were also given (my 12-year-old nephew gave Adam a
gameboy). The TV bounced off the tiled walls. As the wife was away, Adam made
the mint tea. Per my brother's request, a video of the family wedding was
played, the highlight being the slaughter of the cow a gift from the groom's
family. A deep cut to the throat, practically decapitating it. Much blood, feet
twitching. I thought of O.J. Simpson for a brief moment. Halfway through tea,
Adam's older brother and friend arrived. More kisses, more talk (in French and
Arabic), more tea. After my brother David and I began to fall asleep (Adam's
older brother kept admonishing us to stay awake) we said our good-bye's, only to
have everyone (except Adam) escort us to the main street to find a taxi. After
much negotiation between driver, Adam's father and brother Doug, we settled at
80 dirhams ($8.00). (We paid $100 dirhams ($10.00) from the Hilton.) But
we had to go to another part of Sale to pick up the driver's wife and daughter.
(A good thing, as it allowed the driver to refill the radiator, which had been
smoking.) But before getting in the cab, everyone exchanged more kisses on the
cheeks (well, at least with Adam's brother - I think we shook hands with the
father).
This morning, we all met
Margaret Tutwiller, the US. Ambassador to Morocco. She complimented us on our
being in Morocco and encouraged that we all spread the word that US people
aren't greedy and arrogant but tell them that we are kind, giving and
idealistic. She told us that our generation had failed to get the word out about
how good we are. Yes, she is right to acknowledge that understanding between
people happens on a one-to-one basis but I wanted to tell her that it's no wonder the US is often hated around
the world because the US government for the past 50 - 75 years has been greedy,
domineering and is only interested in supporting US economic interests at the
expense of the citizens of the countries it tries to control and exploit! But
I held my tongue as the Friends of Morocco had another agenda that day and I
didn't want to disrupt the "nice feelings" in the room.
Day 3
Fes - all day
Tuesday, November 6,
2001
Written by David
Teschner
We started the day with
an overlook of the Fes medina - low, earth-colored buildings expansive, sitting
in a bowl with low mountains or hills surrounding. I had a good experience with
2 small boys herding sheep as Juanita and I walked down the hill to take a
picture of a black olive tree. Boys were friendly and enterprising posing for
pictures for a small price. I also gave them a pen. After taking in the view, we
visited a pottery factory and learned about mosaics. The men were in a small
room cutting tiny pieces with great precision. The mosaics and pottery were
beautiful but quite expensive. After that, we started a lengthy sojourn on foot
through the medina. 15,000 streets, very narrow, crowded with people and donkeys
and carts. We found it hard to stay together and all would've been terribly lost
if not for the hometown knowledge of Ishmael and Hassan. Juanita and I bought an
old Berber rug (used) in a big house converted to a rug store. A man carried it
for us for the remainder of our walk. I paid him
20 dh. I was impressed by design and handwork, wood and paint of gates
and doorways to mosques. I liked the bar across one entrance to a street so that
everyone would have to bow to Allah. Having been in Old City of Jerusalem, the
experience was not unique but extremely enjoyable,
Day 3
Fes
Tuesday, November 6,
2001 (Green March Day)
Written by Anne Hérisson-Leplae
At noon, Tim, Ellen and
I left the group at the rug seller in the Fez medina to catch a taxi back to the
hotel where we had arranged to meet Sadiq Rddad. Sadiq's older brothers had both
married Peace Corps volunteers, and Sadiq is an English professor at the
University in Fez. His wife, Ouafa, is a high school English teacher. The fourth
Rddad brother had recently moved to New York City and their mother spent several
weeks every year in the US with her grandchildren.
As we approached Sadiq's
apartment, we met his three sons playing ball on the street.
Sadiq and Ouafa's apartment was decorated with intricate plaster work and
the sitiing room was lined with enough cushioned benches to sit dozens of
guests. The apartment is lined with English-language and Arabic novels,
publications, dictionaries and encyclopedias. It is very much the home of
well-read intellectuals.
While we waited for
lunch Sadiq spoke about his activities at the university. He teaches courses
such as American literature and views of Morocco as seen through travel
chronicles of various authors who have visited the country. He is also on the
editorial staff of an English language publication called Moroccan Cultural
Studies Journal. He gave each of us copies of the last 2 issues of the journal
as well as a copy of the book, "The Battle of Alcazar", a British
drama on Morocco and Moors. The journal publishes poems, short fiction, excerpts
and interviews on various topics
dealing with Moroccan culture. Its aim is to create a forum for ideas on
Moroccan culture and foster encounters and interactions between Morocco and the
West. Sadiq also mentioned wanting to organize a conference on American -
Moroccan studies at the University in Fez in 2002 or 2003. This sparked Tim's
interest who promised to follow up on the idea.
Ouafa joined us after
finishing her noon time prayer. We were soon asked to sit around a table and
were brought a dish covered with grated carrots, minced beets, cucumber slices,
hard boiled eggs as well as round loaves of wonderful homemade bread. Ouafa
expressed her sorrow at the events of September 11. She also asked many
questions about me, my family and other American friends. After the salad, we
were served an exquisite prune and lamb tajine. Though the meals we had had
until then were wonderful, this one surpassed them. We felt completely welcome
in Sadiq and Ouafa's home. I had a very hard time leaving several hours later,
though we promised to stay in touch by postal and e-mail. Sadiq walked us back
to the hotel where Tim introduced him to Hassan and an acquaintance who was also
interested in Sadiq's idea of a conference at the university.
Day 4 - 6
Wednesday - Friday,
November 7 - 9
Written by Anne Hérisson-Leplae
Shortly after leaving
Ikhouane University in Ifrane, the bus arrived in Azrou where I got off to catch
a grand taxi for Midelt, a small town in the Middle Atlas. I had spent 2 years
in Midelt as an English teacher with the Peace Corps from 1984 to 1986. This was
my first trip back in 14 years. I was among six passengers and a driver to
squeeze into the grand taxi. It took us 2 hours to cover the 120 km between
Midelt and Azrou. During most of that time we were silent. An elderly passenger
heading for Errachidia was very curious about me. He was surprised that I was
American and not French. During our trip we crossed pine forests then arid
landscapes dotted with young shepherd boys, their herds and lazy sheep dogs.
We finally reached
Midelt. Other than the satellite dishes on the roofs of the low mud-brick homes,
the town look much as it did 15 years earlier. However, I was disoriented and
asked a young man who had offered to help to guide me to my friends' house.
After walking around town for almost an hour we finally found the Place
Ikhermijioune (the "golden castle" in Berber) where we found Rebha Aït
Oundir's apartment. Rebha and her family had moved from their traditional mud
brick home to the more modern second story apartment they had rented to a string
of Peace Corps volunteers since the late 1970's.
I had not given any
warning of my arrival as the family has no telephone and I didn't know the
address. Despite my 14 year absence, Rebha recognized me instantly and offered
us mint tea then tajine. In the years since I had left Midelt, the family had
more than doubled with the addition of daughters-in-law and grandchildren.
Living with Rebha were her sons, Moha and Hassan, Moha's wife Latifa and their
three children. Rebha's daughter, Bedda, also lived in the Ikhermijioune
neighborhood with her family. The middle son, Aziz, lived in Errachidia, a town
south of Midelt, but was now in town for a few days with his daughter in order
to have a winter suit made.
Though school was out
for a week in celebration of the Green March, Moha's two daughters, Loubna (12)
and Sana (8) were spending the afternoon with a tutor who helped them keep up
with their schoolwork.
After much kissing and
hugging and inquiries about our respective families, the family offered their
condolences for the victims of the terrorist attacks in New York and wanted more
details about it. They were concerned for the other Peace Corps volunteers they
had met over the years. They were also impressed by the US Ambassador's recent
TV appearance.
After several more
glasses of mint tea with Rebha's extended family and several neighbors, Hassan
suggested we go out for a tour of the market. Rebha did not let me leave the
house without a pair of woolen long underwear - a must for the Midelt chill -
heavy socks and a head scarf.
Midelt has two souks
(outdoor markets): a large one on Sunday which takes place in the outskirts of
the town and which sells everything from vegetables and fruit, to live chickens,
djellabas, jewelry, perfume and household goods. It would bring in people from
the neighboring villages who would come streaming in by foot, donkey or car. The
more modest Wednesday souk was stacked with everything necessary to prepare for
Ramadam which would start in 10 days: tomatoes, oranges, chick peas, almonds,
dates, spices, soup bowls, tea glasses, etc. It also had young boys selling mica
(plastic bags), and carts selling candied peanuts, popcorn and balloons. The
vendors shout out their prices, and the customers are as much there to socialize
as to buy. It is a very animated place.
After the souk, we
walked through the cedar-smelling town and bought cassettes of Berber and Arabic
music from one of the closet-sized shops that lined the streets. At a photo shop
which sold batteries and rolls of film by the piece, portraits of two former
Peace Corps volunteers were displayed among the other portraits. The shop owner
had just read the article about the Friends of Morocco in the Arabic newspaper
El Aalm. He was interested in contacting Friends of Morocco by e-mail to find
the volunteer who had taught him English in the late 1970's.
We went to one of the
town's two internet cafés. This one had been set up by a young Midelti who had
recently returned after finishing his studies in the US. Though the connection
was slower than in the US, for 6 dh an hour, the café was a great way for me to
contact my family in the US. All Peace Corps volunteers now in Morocco are
connected to the internet and many have cell phones. This is very different from
our experience 15 years ago where a phone call was a half day affair and postal
mail unreliable.
At sunset we walked to
the convent which housed a cooperative run by European nuns to train local women
in weaving Berber rugs and embroidery destined for tourists.
On the way home, we
bought a chicken (chosen live, then killed, plucked and cleaned at the shop). We
dined that evening on a delicious chicken, potato and turnip tajine with
homemade bread. This meal again surpassed all the meals I had had so far, in
part because of the warmth and hospitality of Rebha and her family. Though the
tajine and bread were exactly as I remembered them to be 15 years earlier, they
were now prepared by Latifa. Over sheeba (absinthe) tea, we reminisced over
pictures of the family and former Peace Corps volunteers. When I asked them
their ages, they needed to consult their birth certificates. Rebha remembered
that she was the same age as the late King Hassan II, 72 years old. They all
looked quite a bit younger than what the papers indicated.
It was then time to
prepare the family room for the night by putting blankets and pillows on the
narrow mattresses lining the walls which served as sofas during the day.
The next morning, after
folding the blankets and removing the extra mattresses and piling them high in a
corner of the room, the family had fresh bread and mint tea for breakfast. Rebha
declared that it was a feast day because of my visit. First on the agenda was to
spend the morning at the hammam. Two hours later we came out shiny and pink from
the heat and scrubbing. To continue the festive atmosphere, we had couscous for
lunch. It was better than I had remembered it to be. The rest of the day was
spent drinking tea and visiting. I was beginning to recall some of the Arabic I
had once known, but the conversation slipped into Berber once in a while.
The evening, after dinner, Rebha decorated my hands and feet with henna.
It was to remind me of the good times we had spent together. I went to sleep
with my hands and feet swaddled with cloths in order to have the henna penetrate
all night.
The next morning, my
hands and feet were a deep rust color. The henna had worked perfectly. The women
of the house had gotten up early to make miloui, a Berber pancake, which we ate
for breakfast. We wrapped the remaining miloui to take with us on our journey
and heavy-hearted I left vowing to come back as soon as possible. Hassan had
proposed to accompany me, an offer I gladly accepted. We took grand taxis from
city to city, finally, 10 hours later we arrived at the hotel in Casablanca and
met the rest of the group. I still had my Midelti long woolen underwear, socks
and scarf, hennaed hands and feet, and a sheepskin under my arms (a gift from
Rebha). I felt like a country bumpkin in the chic hotel. Though I welcomed the
conveniences of the hotel, I already felt far from the Morocco I had fallen in
love with more than 15 years ago.
Day 3
Tuesday, November 6
Written by Juanita
Teschner
We had a memorable
experience Tuesday night at Hotel Menzeh Zalagh. Aziz Lebbar, a representative
of the Moroccan Parliament, hosted our dinner. He was accompanied by three
gentlemen: the Minister of Tourism, the vice-president of the region and a
French businessman.
We were served harira,
pastilla and tajine, and the wine flowed freely. After entertainment by two
musicians, a belly dancer and a drum ensemble, Aziz Lebbar, who owned the
restaurant, spoke to the group. He thanked us profusely for coming to Morocco
and expressed his sadness at the September 11 tragedy. He stressed the level of
tolerance in Morocco and wished for peace in the world.
Doug Teschner, who
serves in the New Hampshire legislature, noted that peace will be realized when
individuals from different nations reach out to one another. Tim Resch spoke of
our desire to extend the hand of friendship to Morocco, especially now during a
period of tension in the world, and to send a message to Americans that Morocco
is a safe, warm and hospitable place.
A second group, made up
of people who are on an outdoor adventure tour, shared our dining area. Aziz and
Doug urged them to take this message back home as well.
The evening radiated
warmth and good will. It was an excellent experience.
Day 4
Wednesday, November 7
Trip to Parliament
Written by Doug Teschner
While in Fes, Hassan
(through his usual incredible connections) made contact with a member of
parliament. I presume this happened because of his attentiveness to the group
(in this case me) because he knew that I had an interest. Well, Mr. MP (Aziz
Lebbar) invited us to his hotel for dinner where, late in the meal, he got up
and gave a passionate speech about American-Moroccan relationships. I was asked
to speak, most unexpectedly, and commended the other Americans present (in an
Overseas Adventure trip) for their courage to come and said that, if there is
going to be a peace in this world, it has to start with one-on-one contact
between Americans and people of other countries. When I mentioned that I had
never visited the Parliament, Aziz, who speaks almost perfect English, invited
me the very next day.
So, on Wednesday, I
stayed in Fes after the group left. Aziz picked me up at 12 and we drove to
Rabat, with much political discussion en route. I got an update on the current
political parties, etc. And he gave me lots of pro-American commentary en route.
He did say he thought we should stop bombing during Ramadan and also said
Palestinian question is of greater concern to Morocco than Afghanistan.
On arrival he introduced
me to a number of MP's and we gave out FOM pins! The building was impressive and
I sat through part of a Q & A session (a regular element in the
parliamentary sessions). It was in a mix of classical and Moroccan Arabic and I
didn't understand much, but picked up enough of one question from the Islamic
party about why Morocco is supporting the US war on terrorism when the US calls
Palestinians terrorists for defending their land (translated by Aziz). We had
lunch in the parliament cafeteria - more pins given out and discussions with
MP's. Then we watched more of the Q & A session and Aziz took me to the
train station. I rode to Casa on the train with an MP I'd met at Parliament who
lectured me on why the US should agree to Kyoto protocols. From Casa to
Marrakech, the train was uncrowded. I enjoyed the time by myself (which has been
rare on this trip - the people contacts have been great but sometimes you need a
break!).
I got to Marrakech at
10:20 (the new trains are great and run on time), had my first (unsuccessful)
attempt to use a pay phone before taxiing to restaurant (too late), passed
through Djema el Fna (great!), then hotel.
Exciting to see the lights of Marrakech and the Koutoubia.
A great trip and very
exciting for me to connect with MP's.
Day 4
Wednesday, November 7
Travel Day
Written by Ellen Hunt
(?)
Long bus ride from Fez
to Marrakech with a couple of rest stops.
Departure from Sheraton
Fez at 8:00. We had an appointment at 10:00 at the University Al Hayatan, an
English language American system.
Day 5
Thursday, November 8
Hotel Meryem, Marrakech
Written by Dr. Stan
Olivier
One of the highlights of
today was the visit to Chez Ali, a place of high entertainment. Each event
created such an excitement as the dancers and musicians from many areas of
Morocco played their musical instruments and the women sang and danced for us.
The camels and horses put on a great a great show and included fireworks that
matched the sounds of music. Moroccan style dinner was held under the tents and
it was the very best meal we have had this week. Carol,
Ellen, Martha, Jim and I did a tour of the Medina area called the Mellah
(the Jewish quarters). We saw many restored buildings which were now being used
as museums. We had lunch at a restaurant overlooking the large plaza and watched
from on high the many activities of this center of Marrakech.
Not to forget, we had a
very pleasant visit to the American Language Center of Marrakech which is run by
Michael Abdurrahman Fitzgerald, the director. This school claims to have 2,700
students who study English and/or Spanish for 3 hr's per week for 30 hours a
month at a cost of 700 dhs. We had the chance to visit the many classes and to
interact with the students, It was evident that they were making progress in
learning languages.
During our visit in
Morocco it has been my pleasure to know that over 50 Lions Clubs are active in
this lovely country.
One of my main projects
in Morocco has been my attempt to locate a medical doctor who can provide the
needed eye surgery for Jod Alami, a young man who lives in Sale, a city near
Rabat. With Carol's help we have set up an appointment for Saturday noon with
Dr. Zhor Outarahout M'Rabet at the Clinique des Nations Unies. It is my hope
that Jod will be able to receive the eye surgery he needs to restore his sight.
His sister, Karima, who currently lives in Arizona, will want to know of his
progress. I met Karima at a restaurant in Phoenix and we became friends very
quickly. My wife and I invited her to speak to our college for lifelong
education called New Adventures in Learning for Seniors (NAILS) on Morocco. Her
outgoing personality was readily accepted by the members of the class of which I
was the facilitator called "Road to Morocco". I have offered this
class three times now because I enjoy sharing my experience with others about
life in Morocco during my Peace Corps Volunteer days.
Day 5
Thursday, November 8
Hike in the Atlas Mts.,
Toubkal Region
Written by David
Teschner
Doug, Juanita and I left
our hotel in Marrakesh at 5:30 a.m. to catch a city or small taxi to the edge of
town where we boarded a Mercedes for the 1 hour trip to Asni. Last part of the
road to Asni was narrow and very winding, tortuous and treacherous. Steep drops
and broken guard rails made you pray constantly. The driver was nonchalant
driving with one hand. In Asni we had some bread and coffee (sweetened) while we
waited for an enclosed truck to drive us to Imlil. I guess it was too early,
9:00, to find a driver, so the café owners found a friend with a car. After we
loaded up, he stepped and banged on a garage door to wake up a young man and get
air for his tire. Good thing he did. The road up the river bed was not paved and
portions washed out. It took nearly an hour to go 10 miles. In Imlil we
immediately met friends of Doug from his trip in August, 2001 and Larbi and
Mammadou. After our hike, we bought gifts (drums) in their shops. We sat again
for drinks and bread and butter and jams, Doug called this "social
climbing" - much tea and visiting before we ever took a step. Doug arranged
for a donkey and young boy for 100 dh to accompany us up the trail. Rashid was
13 years old and great fun. Juanita rode some and walked mostly. The trail to
Chamarouche (holy man) was gradual through 2 villages, one quite extensive (Aromal).
Here we were looking for someone Doug had met earlier and had a picture to
deliver. In the course of trying to find him, we walked higher and higher to the
top of the village. The village was perched on a steep hillside. A woman invited
us in for tea in her new and quite attractive small inn. After more social
climbing, we continued up to Chamarouche with Mt. Toubkal always up and ahead of
us. This nearly 14,000 foot snow-covered peak looked like a very challenging
climb. We went up above 7,000 feet. The trail was well-groomed and there was not
much traffic this time of year. Views were always good. I much prefer hiking in
the open than under cover of trees. There was good variation from village to
river bed to steep-sided trail high above the river. There was a beautiful
waterfall just below Chamarouche which I scrambled down to see and photograph.
At the end of one
vertical climb, we sat and chatted with some English-speaking young men. Doug
supported the local community with the purchase of 2 rugs for a "very good
price- real Berber, not like Marrakech.”
Having the mule with
saddlebags enabled Doug not to have to carry down his two rugs. We didn't need
to carry our day packs or water bottles either. We purchased our water and food
for lunch in Imlil just before we started walking, but we could've bought drinks
and snacks in Chamarouche.
There we visited the
tomb of the holy man. Juanita could only go so far. A man and sign stopped her.
I chatted with two English-speaking young men about Christianity, Judaism and
Islam. I told them I was a "Christian Imam." (I'm an Episcopal
priest.) Their eyes were wide open at the thought. We talked a little about
prophets, Abraham, Isaiah, Jesus and Mohammed. For the sake of interfaith
relations, I didn't try to explain the Christian doctrine of the divinity of
Jesus or the Trinity. We just agreed "One God.”
The climb down was along
the same trail until we reached the river bed about 2/3 of the way back. There
we veered left and returned to Imlil by another way through a small village.
Both Doug and I took a turn on the "Berber Mercedes" to experience
balancing on a mule descending steep grades. I worked harder on the donkey than
on the ground.
In Asni we bought our
drums, said our good-byes and loaded an enclosed truck, a Moroccan version of a
SUV. This vehicle traveled more quickly than the earlier car, but the wooden
benches in the rear were not nearly as comfortable. In Asni we loaded a Mercedes
for an extremely rapid trip back to the hotel. Especially through the winding
portion, there were many "shweeahs" from Doug to the driver.
All in all it was a
tremendous day to experience some solitude, meet new friends and exercise all in
the beauty of the High Atlas Mountains.
Of course, traveling
with Doug is never dull, and we were grateful for his knowledge of the language,
the culture and the mountains.
Day 7
Saturday , November 10
In the airplane back to
the US
Written by Dr. Stan
Olivier
My Peace Corps Volunteer
experience gave me the motivation to continue my education in the area of
Special Education. I learned lots working with the blind population about the great
need for training blind people to be employed. So upon my return to the states,
I enrolled in courses that would give me the knowledge to train blind people to
be ready to take on jobs in society. I found blind people who were already
employed as teachers, computer operators, lawyers, factory workers, telephone
operators, salespersons, cafeteria workers, and many other areas in the United
States. I feel that Peace Corps Maroc could do more to assist the blind
population to be trained to take on jobs in their country. This type of program
can be introduced to the Moroccan society and assistance by trained vocational
personnel could be provided to demonstrate what blind people can do in the work
world. Grant monies from rich Arabic nations and new PCV's with vocational
training could be a great asset to this type of program. Using techniques for
interviewing for employment, orientation and mobility training to the job from
home, transportation to and from work adaptation on the job needed by the blind
person to perform his/her job skills would be necessary, too.
Working with the blind
population in the Los Angeles Unified District as Vocational Advisor to blind,
visually impaired, deaf-blind and learning disabled students gave me the
opportunity to develop many programs which did assist blind students to be
successfully employed. My doctoral studies were centered around finding special
accommodations for the visually disabled persons to permit them to be employed
in jobs usually reserved for sighted persons.
When visiting other
countries in Europe, I saw many blind persons being trained at different
occupations and this knowledge could easily be transferred to Moroccan blind
people. I would be willing to train PCV's to assist blind students to prepare
for the work world. I don't see the end of PCV's working with the blind
population of Maroc. What good is
an education if a person can't use it to find a job in his society?
