So the day after I got back from retrieving my ipod, we left for the village. This time I left all modern conveniences safely in my cupboard! We went inland to Boujad, a peri-urban area in Morocco's heartland. That's right, amber waves of grain, fields of wildflowers, endless farms. Where am I, Missouri? No no, it's still Morocco. The diversity of landscape in such a small country is incredible. We were received by an association presided by our very own academic director, Lahcen. After a lunch of chicken tajine, all 40 of us stuffed ourselves into three large vans. Every available space was occupied by a body. So after we managed to fit ourselves in, we set of for the village. It wasn't long before we left the paved road, and eventually left the graded road. When we got to the village, Oulad al-Arbi, we were handed bottles of water and rolls of toilet paper, and then matched up with families. I was lucky enough to live in a compound as part of a large extended family, so I got to stay with friends on the program. We lived on the opposite side of a large reservoir that ended up being a few miles away from the main building/meeting place. When we got there we went from house to house being offered tea and bread, as well as freshly pressed olive oil and freshly made butter. The family collectively owns a very large subsistence garden as well as an olive orchard, the fruits of which are sold at the souk in Boujad. One of the men is a butcher, so there was a large barn with cows, one of the women owns a herd of sheep, which are traded at the souk, and then my family owned a milking cow. There were also cats and dogs running around, and a few chickens. All in all it is quite impressive, and a lot of work to maintain.
We arrived in the village on a Saturday and left on a Friday. In between those times we held a discussion with most of the townspeople and all of us, where we asked each other questions about lifestyle via Lahcen acting as a translator. They asked us about life in America, government corruption, women's rights, and healthcare, and we asked them about job opportunities, voting, literacy, migration, and life in their village. We also volunteered at a local school where we played with the kids, planted trees, cleaned up their play yard, and painted a mural on the wall.
It was so fun and the kids were so excited. I wish we could have made more of an impact. The unfortunate reality in the village is that school is expensive with all the books and supplies that need to be bought, which prohibits some kids from going. And after the 6th grade, kids have to go all the way to Boujad, which means they have to have family to stay with because it's too far to walk to every day. Many parents deem this dangerous, especially for girls. In my family for example, one girl had been allowed to continue her studies because she had someone to stay with in Boujad, but a girl our age had been pulled out at age 14. There are no services such as Dar Taliba in Ouerzazzate, which allows girls to be housed cheaply while they are continuing their studies. This is certainly a gap in the educational system.
The rest of the time in the village was devoted to spending with our families. I helped herd sheep, learned how to make daisy chains, napped in the field, helped pick out herbs from the garden, and got to pet the newborn calf on many occasions. Working alongside them and being with them at all times allowed me to pick up more Darija skills than I had at all in Rabat up until that point, and by the end of the week I was at least functional enough to make myself understood. My host family was so wonderful. There was the mom, Fatna, who was in her mid-30's, and Mohamed her husband was in his mid-40's. They had three little boys, Saleh, 10; Brahim, 8; and Ayoub, 3. They were so cute! The two older boys loved to read to me from their Fusha and French books. Ayoub and I colored together and played games. One night I taught them Tic-Tac-Toe, and after that every night when we all sat down before dinner that's what we did.
Most of the houses are either made from rocks and mortar or cement. Mine happened to be made of cement. It was divided in two parts lengthwise, and one side was the home of the cow. The other side was a single large room with a kitchen area on one side and a sleeping/sitting area on the other. There was a giant loom on the wall in the kitchen area for making beautiful rugs out of the sheep's wool. In the social area there were blankets layered against each wall. One side doubled as my bed and the other side doubled as the bed of my host parents. The boys slept in between us on small rolled out homemade shag rugs.
Staying in the village was one of the highlights of my semester, although it would be really hard to pick after all the wonderful experiences I've had. When we left on Friday I assumed I would never see them again, but I decided it would be a good place to return for part of my independent study project. I ended up going back to the village and got to spend more time with my wonderful family, but more about that later. For now, here are some pictures!
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| a first attempt at fitting into the van |
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| Our escort to the village |
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| Another truck full of SIT people |
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| Getting water from the reservoir |
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| the rock structure is the only bridge, but it doesn't go all the way across |
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| At three, Ayoub is a more competent helper than me |
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| The baby cow that lives with us |
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| Almost everyone in the compound got together for tea |
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| Homemade butter and olive oil |
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| The older boys doing their homework |
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| An adjacent village that we visited while on a hike |
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| A few from the hill we crested |
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| The compound, from the other side of the reservoir |
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| The local mosque. Here, the call to prayer is issued personally 5 times per day instead of from a recording. |
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| Planting trees! |
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| We started painting the mural... |
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| ...but soon the kids took over! |
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| My awesome host family. They are so much fun and I was so happy to be with them! |
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| The kitchen area of the house |
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| A view of the central courtyard |
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| my house! |
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| Zohra (another family member) and her daughter Hayat, |
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| Ayoub wandered over while we were herding sheep |
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| Hayat is super affectionate, but Ayoub was not into it |
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| one of the things they harvest is cactus fruit |
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| one day after doing henna, Eto and Fatna wanted to put kohl on our eyes |
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| Eto's giggly little boy, Anwar |
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| Success! |
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| Brahim was so proud of himself :-) |
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| The kids took a short break from grazing the cow to take a picture with me. The girl is Zohra's other daughter, Salma. |
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| The cow! |
