Scenes From Morocco: Mosque Hassan II

The little specks 1/5 the size of the arches near the bottom are humans. Casablanca's Mosque Hassan II is the third largest mosque in the world after the mosques in the Islamic holy cities of Mecca and Medina.

Baked Potatoes

On Wednesday I made baked potatoes for some Moroccan friends.

Everyone arrived together almost an hour late. I served up the turkey pieces and the potatoes, and we all sat down.

After making sure everyone had what they wanted, Daniel and I cut open our baked potatoes and started piling on the toppings. We didn't have chile or sour cream, but we hoped the turkey pieces would make up for the chile. And Daniel had bought some mayonnaise and hot sauce to top everything off. We had butter, cheese, chopped onions...it wasn't a perfect baked potato bar, but it was pretty good.

After a few minutes, though, I noticed that none of the Moroccans were piling on any of the toppings.

I had forgotten to explain how to eat baked potatoes.

A Simple Observation

A friend who studied abroad in Japan once told me about the strange simplicity of his realization that Japan had international relations with every other country in the world. He grew up thinking about almost every issue and conflict in light of America's power, influence, and concerns, and the de-centering of that perspective was obvious and yet still strange.

And in some sense, viewing things from the US's perspective is perhaps the best way to get an overall picture of the world. The United States, after all, is the richest and most powerful nation on the planet. But to move away from that dominant perspective and consider a smaller, de-centered nexus of international issues is often eye-opening. And it's one of the best things that come out of any true traveling experience.

Today, I had another one of those experiences.

I was sitting in a small crowded restaurant, eating off of a plastic table, when a young couple sat down next to me. They were quiet at first, and, since I was reading a book, I didn't pay much attention to them. When I finally did look up, I realized that both were speaking in sign language.

Believe it or not, in all my years of traveling, that was the first time I had ever seen a non-American use sign language. Until today, being deaf or dumb and using sign language to communicate had been an exclusively American issue in my mind. If you were to have asked me if sign language existed outside of the United States, I would have been able to assent that I knew it did exist. But the issue would still have been wrapped solely within the context of the American deaf people that I have known and thus centered around my own subjective experience of the phenomenom.

As I sat there occasionally glancing over to observe the couple, a series of questions crossed my mind: How well would two deaf people from different countries be able to communicate with each other? Would they communicate better than two non-deaf people who didn't share a common tongue? How much does the surrounding culture affect the way deaf people interact? How does "body language" work across cultures in sign language? Do deaf people have an easier time communicating in a very emotive culture like Morocco?

And then another question came to mind: how can I personally communicate with them? I don't speak international sign language and I didn't know how easy it would be for them to lip read my accented Arabic.

I didn't know what I would have tried to say anyway. So I got up, paid, and left the restaurant.

Scenes From Morocco: Uncoordinated Renovation

As part of Meknes' renovation in preparation for the king's visit, the curbs were repainted white and red. No barriers, however, were set up while the paint was left to dry.

My Concierge

When our ideals crash against the real world, they often don't come out looking so good.

Take for instance, the dictum that we should love our neighbor. Seems simple enough, right?

Well, what happens when that neighbor is your concierge?

In my concierge's case, most days he just sits outside the front of the building, unshaved, slouching in his chair in the shade, watching the world go by. He and the concierges from the neighboring buildings sometimes get together and gossip about the goings-on in their buildings. (It's usually after this that I get suggestive comments about the visits of my female American colleague who occasionally comes for tea or meals.)

His laid-back lifestyle isn't the result of a lack of tasks. The elevator is absolutely disgusting and has been needing a cleaning for months. Some of the doors sometimes don't shut properly, keeping the elevator from budging and forcing people to use the stairs. A little tinkering, a little cleaning...there is plenty to do if he wanted to keep himself busy.

In any case, that's not really a problem for me. I can deal with the building the way it is. I just don't lean against the elevator walls. I wear shoes when I leave the apartment. And I walk when the elevator isn't working.

What's more troubling from my perspective is how he is always asking for things from me.

When I went to the States for Christmas he asked for a computer. When I explained that I couldn't afford a computer for myself, let alone for him, he seemed to doubt my story. All Americans are rich, right?

He eventually just pressed me for a cell phone. I explained that American cell phones were the same Chinese cell phones that they sold in Morocco, but he didn't seem to understand that either.

Sometimes he asks for a visa and a Green Card. Then I have to explain I can't help him; he has to apply to the visa lottery just like everyone else.

One time I just asked him what he really wanted to do for a job. He said he wanted to drive a limo...anything that would make lots of money. I didn't ask him if he planned to take any steps to try to make that happen, but I think I know the answer.

Out of respect for Moroccan cultural norms I try to stop and chat with him every time I leave the building. Most days he is in a bit of a sulk. And it only gets worse when he demands something from me and I have to say no. Two days ago, he complimented me on my jacket and then asked for it. I've never been much of one for style, and I don't have a very extensive wardrobe. So even though most of my clothing is fairly inexpensive, I can't just hand it over to someone who asks for it.

I tried to make a joke out of it by asking him if he was going to give me his jacket, but like all my attempts to teasingly make him see some reciprocity in our relationship, it went no where.

The man is obviously poor. Even though I am one of the poorer Americans out there (as I try to explain to him again and again without success), I am still richer than he is. That being said, he has a stable job and a good living situation for his family. As such, he is better off than a large chunk of Moroccans.

Largely as a result of this dynamic, my roommate Daniel has stopped talking to him beyond the most cursory of greetings. I continue on, but it's hard to justify it to myself. We can't really have any sort of friendship based on common interests and mutual respect. I don't seem to have any influence on him. My comments and questions go nowhere. And I can't see any way to significantly alter his living situation. I cannot provide him with the things he wants from me, and the things I can provide for him he already has.

The Joy of Self-Censorship

The joy of self-censorship is that you get to stay in the country.

At least in theory.

A few days ago, my boss informed all of the American teachers at work that we were, under no circumstance, to speak about religion in the classroom.

According to Moroccan law, we are allowed to answer questions about our own faith but nothing more. Anything more might be considered proselytizing. Of course, that's our religion; we regularly talk about Islam. Any issue that motivates students to speak in English and exchange opinions is useful for language learning, and Moroccan students tend to have very strong opinions about Islam, particularly its role in modern life.

This new rule goes above and beyond what is required by law, and it takes away a useful tool that we teachers have as we try to motivate students to speak in English.

So why is it necessary?

The immediate cause of our new self-censorship rule was the arrest and deportation of a Canadian couple who had lived in Meknes for the past decade. I know nothing about them except that they owned a bookstore and were accused of proselytizing. It is likely that they were in fact in violation of the law about proselytizing. I do not know. But my boss had a passing acquaintance with them, and their deportation seems to have brought this crackdown a little closer to home for her. She has enough on her plate to have to worry about new personnel and legal issues.

Now, let's keep in mind what an English teacher would really be up against if he or she even tried to proselytize. Even if a Christian teacher tried to "shake the faith" of his or her Muslim students during one of our typical 30-hour English courses, it is extremely unlikely that he or she would have any success countering the 1000's of hours of Islamic Education required of all Moroccans before they leave school.

My personal goals teaching in Morocco are quite different from this imposing task.

The main reason I feel good about my job as an English teacher (compared with all the other unethical, societally unhelpful jobs out there) is that by helping Moroccans learn English, I am better preparing them for the challenges of globalization. It enables them to function in new situations almost wherever they go and whatever they do. And, as a well-educated native speaker of the language, I am in a unique position to help them.

But another, only slightly less important reason that I teach is that I desire to promote cultural dialogue. I firmly believe that ongoing cultural discussion is absolutely necessary if we want to avoid future violent conflict. Unfortunately, Americans have by and large decided that they are not going to learn other languages, and large numbers of them seem unconcerned by anything happening outside their borders. So the bulk of the responsibility now rests on natives of other countries, who must learn to express their religion, their culture, and their thoughts in the language of Hemingway.

Of course, in order for them to be able to convey their religion, culture, and thoughts in a way that a Westerner would understand, they must learn about the Western world. They must understand points of contact and points of divergence, similarities and differences. That involves both critical thinking skills about their own culture and knowledge about a foreign culture. I desire to promote both. Both are now severely handicapped by the current state of affairs.

On the content side of things, one of the most contentious (and yet one of the most important) issues in such ongoing dialogue is religion. The fact is the religions and the philosophies of the world disagree on fundamental issues; there is no getting around that. But, in an ideal world, we can learn about the other side and discuss those differences in openness and respect. People should be able to debate the divinity of Jesus, the prophethood of Mohammed, the textual transmission of scriptures, religious violence, and secularism. It will likely be heated, but it can still be respectful and based in true engagement with the truth of others' beliefs and practices.

I will be the first to say that Americans are certainly far from perfect; a better understanding of the Koran and the Muslim world would go a long way if we ever hope to seriously engage the Muslim world. But Moroccans also need to learn more about the Western world, its secular outlook as well as its religions, Christianity included.

There are impediments to respectful and thoughtful discussion on both sides. Of course, the fundamental difference is that in America the impediment is cultural, in Morocco it is legal.

These were my ideals in teaching: improve English ability, promote critical thinking, explain the West, and enable students to engage it. And yet, although I have stayed well within the law and the rules of my workplace, I still have a nagging fear that I too could be deported. Perhaps, it is a misplaced fear. But when power is exercised as arbitrarily as it is here in Morocco, one cannot know whether fear is properly placed or not.

I do know that in my writings and in my personal and professional life I have tried to promote the values that Muslim theologians expressed in the Common Word declaration:

So let our differences not cause hatred and strife between us. Let us vie with each other only in righteousness and good works. Let us respect each other, be fair, just and kind to another and live in sincere peace, harmony and mutual goodwill.

I only wish that the Moroccan government would do the same.

I express these sentiments on this blog in English to a Western audience. Currently in Morocco, there are obstacles that prevent me from living out these ideals that I would hope we could all share.

The joy of self-censorship is that you get to stay in the country. The agony of self-censorship is that you silently watch the cultural misunderstandings of yesterday run untouched into tomorrow.

Scenes From Morocco: Renovation

In preparation for the opening of the fourth annual International Agricultural Fair at Meknes, the city is being beautified. The fair, which opens on Tuesday, will be attended by King Mohammed VI himself.

A Moroccan At Berkeley

One of my former students is a university history professor. In a few weeks, he will be giving a talk at the University of Berkeley regarding Muslim-Jewish relations in the 20th century. So he contacted me to help him translate his talk to English. Last night we met after work to go over it.

The talk itself wasn't much longer than 15 minutes, but it took us over four hours to polish off the translation from French to English. Of course, that time included a meal prepared by his wife and plenty of side conversations as we worked our way through the text.

He spent 11 years in France as a student and teacher, and it shows. Besides speaking exceptional French, his family eats plain yogurt for dessert.

Now, this may not seem like a big deal to my American readers, but it's a telltale sign of French influence. The French love their yogurt, but only the unsweetened stuff. This is only one of the many cultural conflicts inherent in the French colonizing of Morocco. Moroccans love everything sweet. Moroccan tea puts American Southerners to shame with its excessive sugar content. The realm of yogurt, of course, is no different. Sweetened, flavored yogurt is one of the most popular foodstuffs available in every hanoot....much to the chagrin of the French.

Yes, my former student eats plain, unsweetened yogurt. He also had some strong words to say about his fellow classmates. One, a government official who used to constantly harp on the centrality of Islam to any correctly ordered society, he decried as a hypocrite: "I know that he takes bribes."

At one point I asked him a question that I had been harboring for quite some time about history and Islam. I told him that recently I had been reading about the development of Christian theology. Many Muslims have told me that that Christianity was good at first but eventually became corrupted, and yet when I press them on historical details, they cannot provide me with a satisfactory explanation for the when and where and how of Christianity's corruption. They don't understand how manuscripts were copied and passed down. They don't understand Christianity's relation to Judaism. And they often are unclear about central Christian doctrines. And yet, they still state with absolute certainty that it has become corrupted. They know because the Koran says it happened.

Now, I want to be open to the possibility of criticism. There are certainly things I find troubling about the development of Christian theology (the Roman emperor Constantine's role in the theological deliberations of the Council of Nicea has always rubbed me the wrong way, for instance). Since he is a Muslim and a historian, I figured he could provide me with the answer to my question. I told him that no one had been able to provide me with a satisfactory explanation of this supposed deviation of Christian theology.

He smiled, shook his head and said, "There is no answer."

We resumed our translation work. It was an exhilarating experience. He would elaborate on each sentence in French and I would craft a new sentence in English. It was slow-going but extremely rewarding. Sometimes the idea would just come to me, but other times I tossed around a few possibilities before settling for the least bad. I still find it amazing just how many subtle nuances I recognize in my native tongue. I doubt I could ever satisfactorily translate anything into another language. Doing a good job requires such an intimate knowledge of the target language.

He thanked me and promised me that he would invite me over for another meal when he returned.

Scenes From Morocco: Recapturing Youth

An elderly Moroccan man sports a patch of red hair in a cafe.

"Stop Throwing Your Butts Out!"

Daniel and I have learned a valuable lesson recently: being accused of something while innocent is no fun.

For some reason, the Moroccans who live around us are convinced that we are heavy smokers, and, furthermore...that we throw our cigarette butts into the courtyard. GASP! We're pretty awful human beings, right?

Now, first of all, these Moroccans don't have a good grip on fundamental cultural differences between America and Morocco. If they knew anything about America and its anti-tabacco crusade, they would know that smoking has become decidedly uncool where we come from.

But beyond mere conjectures based on cultural stereotypes, surely, they would want to check out the facts before making accusations. Right?

A while back Daniel was in the elevator with the super of our building. Suddenly, the middle-aged Moroccan man launched into a tirade about the disgusting habit of throwing cigarette butts on the apartment grounds. Daniel listened for a while and then protested that he didn't smoke. The super was nonplussed and continued his lecture, assuming it had to be someone from our apartment.

A few days ago, the concierge stopped me with the same accusation, lecture, and request. I informed his that the accusation was false, the lecture unnecessary, and the request illogical. He seemed satisfied with my explanation, "ma kankmish" ("I don't smoke"). So I thought the issue was settled. Daniel and I had both asserted our innocence against slanderous claims. What more is needed?

Yesterday, though, the concierge confronted me again about the same topic. I thought that he wasn't grasping the logical connection between being a smoker and producing cigarette butts that could be distributed on the apartment premises. But then I learned the real reason for his persistence.

He led me up to the first floor (in Morocco, like in most countries in the world, the first floor is the floor above the ground floor) to the apartment of the Hajja, a respected widow whose sons live in Casablanca. When the concierge introduced me she proceeded to lecture me in French on the disgusting habit of tossing cigarette habits into the courtyard. I used my apparently inefficient rebuttal, "Ma kankmish" yet once again to explain my innocence. I also added for good measure "Sahibi ma kaykmish" ("My roommate/friend doesn't smoke"). She seemed undeterred. She merely moved her discourse into Darija.

After another full minute she stopped, but not after having thoroughly indoctrinated me in the filthiness of my habit. I explained that if I ever saw the person responsible for the cigarette butts, I would inform him about his disgusting habit. The Hajja didn't seem terribly satisfied with my offer of help.

So I have two questions:

How do accusations of these type arise? A well-propagated assumption that is not based whatsoever in the facts must come from somewhere.

And, secondly, is this issue over? Or are we going to continue to have to deal with lectures about bad habits we don't have?

Le Monde Covers Christian Expulsions

This is a bit late, but a couple of weeks ago the French daily Le Monde published this article about the recent spate of expulsions from Morocco.

It mentions the expulsion of the Franciscan priest that The Moroccan Dispatches covered last month.

All are suspected of "undermining the faith of Muslims," i.e. the crime of proselytizing inscribed in Moroccan law and punishable by six months to three years in prison. Like others, the Franciscan Father Zaki, who officiated at Larache, in the region of Tangier, did not have more than a few hours to pack his bags.

A first. A hispanophone of Egyptian origin, he was returned by plane to Cairo, where he remained in custody for seven hours without a clear explanation of the reasons for his forced departure. And without a clear grounds for his arrest and deportation, there was no opportunity for recourse. "Was it an error? Did he make a mistake? Nobody knows," sighed Father Daniel Nourissat, in charge of the parish of Our Lady of Lourdes to Casablanca.
...
Tous sont soupçonnés d'"ébranler la foi des musulmans", un délit de prosélytisme inscrit dans la loi marocaine et puni de six mois à trois ans de prison. Comme les autres, le Père franciscain Zaki, qui officiait à Larache, dans la région de Tanger, n'a donc eu que quelques heures pour faire ses bagages.

Une première. Hispanophone, d'origine égyptienne, il a été renvoyé par avion au Caire, où il est resté sept heures en garde à vue sans pouvoir expliquer les raisons de son départ forcé. Et sans motif clair, pas de recours possible. "Est-ce une erreur ? A-t-il commis une faute ? Nul ne le sait", soupire le Père Daniel Nourissat, chargé de la paroisse Notre-Dame-de-Lourdes de Casablanca.

Unlike the official media coverage here in Morocco where the officially recognized churches parroted the government's line, in the Le Monde article Christian leaders in Morocco nuanced their views. While not condoning the illegal activity of proselytism, they indicated that the recent crackdown was a "harsher stance" than normal. One even classified the recent actions as "bizarre".

The reporter also attempted to get an interview with a Moroccan Christians but was unable to do so even under the condition of anonymity. That fact in and of itself should indicate the fear that Moroccan Christians live under. As commenters on this blog have noted, some Moroccans convert to Christianity out of the hope for money and a visa. But to extend that observation to all Moroccan Christians is clearly naive as this Le Monde article demonstrates.

All in all, the article presents an excellent survey of the entire situation. I highlight it here only because of its thoroughness. It is only a simple article that happens to be well-researched and well-written, but it puts to shame most of the local Moroccan press and the vast majority of the foreign press, neither of which have managed to produce much of similar quality.

Scenes From Morocco: The Royal Golf Course

The Royal Golf Course at Meknes rests within the old medina of Meknes. Cut off from the rest of the city by imposingly high stone walls, the golf course barely fits nine holes.

A Regular

After vacation I walked in my favorite local cafe. I said hello to the server as we made eye contact, "Peace be upon you."

"And upon you peace."

He headed to the counter, his tray full with dirty glasses and cups. I sat down and pulled out The Economist.

A minute or so later I saw him approaching out of the corner of my eye. I lifted my head to order, "Half..."

He laid down a half and half. "To your health."

"God give you health."

He turned and walked away.

I smiled and began to sip my coffee.

Scenes From Morocco

The Cheap Cultural Cacophony of Ryanair

Ryanair has revolutionized international travel. There is no doubt about it.

Before baggage handling and peanuts were free. Now they are not. Before there were assigned seats; now there is a frenzied dash. And perhaps most importantly, areas of Europe and northern Africa that were prohibitively far apart are now connected by flights costing only a few hours' pay. Unless, of course, you want to take anything substantial with you...then it costs a few hours' pay more.

As I boarded the flight to Dusseldorf in Fes, the couples around me bore witness to what this phenomenon has done for cross-cultural marriages. At least half a dozen Moroccan-German couples were standing in line with me. One German girl was speaking in the phone in fluent Darija. After a quick vacation with in-laws in Morocco, they were headed back home.

The cultural cacophony grew once we boarded the plane. People pushed and shoved and hustled past each other. German, Darija, French, and English could be heard simultaneously.

After everyone got settled, the chaos and confusion continued. The Slovakian stewardess's accented English blared through the sound system to a mostly uncomprehending German and Moroccan audience. A 5-year old Moroccan child blew right past a stewardess in the aisle knocking her sideways. She tried to reprimand him in English, but he ignored her admonishments.

The scene repeated itself returning to Morocco, but it was slightly more organized. A Moroccan-looking fellow sat down next to me. I tried speaking Darija to him, but he just switched to English.

"Are you American?"

"Yeah, and you're Moroccan?"

"No, I'm Dutch."

"Oh, you immigrated to the Netherlands."

"No. I was born there. My dad is Moroccan and my mom is Serbian."

He was headed back to Morocco to visit his grandparents. I have almost spent more time in Morocco than he has, and so I spoke Darija better than him.

I asked him how his parents met.

"Well, immigrants often lived in the same poor neighborhoods and they all got to know each other. My parents met at a wedding....of a Moroccan and a Serbian." He smiled.

I also asked him if he considered himself Moroccan, Dutch, or Serbian.

"A little bit of everything," he answered.

More Religious Persecution Coverage

I am currently on vacation, but I wanted to briefly write up a summary of Tel Quel's continuing coverage of religious persecution in Morocco.

This is from the March 27-April 2, 2010 issue, so this is a little bit late. I picked it up before I went on vacation.

The front page carries a picture of the Cathedral of Sacre Coeur in front of the Hassan II mosque. The caption translates:

THE TEMPTATION OF CHRIST
Despite police harassment and death threats, thousands of Moroccans have converted to Christianity. Today the state is violently reacting to counter the 'threat'.

Yes, those are scare quotes.

The entire coverage is an in-depth critique of the incoherence and injustice of recent Moroccan government activities in the area of religious liberty.

The main article is accompanied by testimonies from a number of Moroccans who have converted to Christianity. All have struggled. Some of their families have disowned them; others are more tolerant. Some Moroccan Christians have lost jobs. All have lost friends.

In the main article, it points out that most Moroccans convert to Christianity more as a result of Arabic media and not from foreign missionaries. This jives with my experience: a number of Moroccans I know have had long conversations with Christian missionaries about religion and none have converted. Some defended Islam while smoking hashish just to piss off the Christians, it that gives you an idea of how many Moroccans understand their Islamic identity. This observation about foreign missionaries, of course, undermines the rationale behind the recent expulsions of many foreigners.

Tel Quel notes that what has been effective in getting Moroccans to convert has been Arabic media such as the television channel al Hayat. Tel Quel carries a profile of Al Hayat broadcaster Brother Rachid, a Moroccan who converted to Christianity and often speaks with Father Zakaria, an Egyptian priest who has been imprisoned twice for baptizing new Christians and now is forced to live in exile. Both live in secrecy after having received numerous death threats.

Another point Tel Quel makes is that the common claim that 150,000 Moroccans have converted to Christianity is false. Using French research, they conclude maybe a few thousand have. Of course, the Islamicists have good reason to exaggerate the number to scare the average Moroccan into thinking he or she is surrounded by a growing Christianization (ironically...the same dynamic in Western countries regarding Islam).

Tel Quel concludes that the reason behind the government crackdown on non-Sunni Muslims has to do with internal politics. By holding a hard line against Christian missionaries and generating heat about it from abroad, they counter radical Islamic talking points about decadent Westernization and Christianization. This explanation, which I have seen repeated a few times now, seems most likely to me at this point.

The article ends with a discussion of a quote from an interview the king Mohammed VI gave to Le Figaro in 2001. He stated that he was the Commander of all the believers: Muslims, Jews, and Christians. Tel Quel quotes one Moroccan Christian pleading to be recognized in the same light: a Moroccan believer under the authority of the king...just a Moroccan Christian believer.

Tel Quel's readers seem to be disappointed with the crackdown. In the letters to the editor section, one Mustafa Laafoui of Kenitra writes in to ask some tough questions about Mohamed Naciri. In one quote highlighted by Tel Quel, he says:

Why didn't the honorable Mr. Naciri oppose the expulsion of the supposed evangelists? Why didn't he insist that these individuals be judged according to the laws set in place?

Other media critical of the government have been shut down recently. And the same could happen to Tel Quel. But as long as they are still around, there will be at least some debate and critical thinking about current events.