In Islamic culture, it is believed that the future is in God's hands
and ultimately out of our control. In any reference to the future, Muslim people always use the phrase insha' Allah. (إنشا الله). This is loosely translated as "if God wills." Used in the same context is the Spanish word ojala, residual of the Moorish occupation of southern Spain more than 500 years ago. In English we usually just say "hopefully."It was a year ago at this time that I found a picture of what I would actually like to do with my future.* Now wrapping up my first field project, which has brought me back to Morocco where I have broken ground socially and academically, it seems natural that I would return here for future projects in graduate school. The realization of making a real life, dotted lines and all, not just a vacation, beyond southeastern PA is quite something to get my head around. No more coasting. It's both scary and exciting, but active choices have to be made to make a life that is more than just sustained.
Having talked so any times about when and if I will return to Morocco, the phrase insha' Allah has ingrained itself in my vocabulary. It might be misinterpreted to mean that we cannot influence or predict the future, but it acts more as an acknowledgment that the world is not fully in our control. An extended time at the mercy of IRB protocols, airplane pilots, cold epidemics, weather, new people, language barriers, even the food you eat, is enough to get a sense of this. I would be lying if I said I knew exactly what to expect in graduate school or in Morocco. The only thing I am certain about is my choice. In addition to being a country full of wonderful people, Morocco lends itself as an exciting stage for the cooperation and competition between Old World and New World, a dynamic that is challenging the entire globe. We saw a small piece of that in its souqs, and I am so much looking forward to seeing more.
*Maybe the best teachers don't necessarily tell you anything new, but show you what is already there.
If the written word displaces the setting from the reader, how much
more will summarized data deviate from that reality we are trying to
explain? In the hard sciences, we try to work around this issue by
creating an ideal, or artificial, environment to carry out experiments,
and project those results into the real world, hoping that they will
still apply. In anthropology we have to accept from the start that our
lab setting is not ideal (which might be why we are drawn to it to
begin with). However, because an investigation in any field must have
some specific object, the data must be decontextualized to an extent.
There can be many deviations from this objective and overlaps of
categorization (will read Clifford Geertz for more on this). Their
filtration quickly becomes subjective, and a matter of practicality if
you actually want to produce a piece of written work. But these are
all still part of reality, and I am sure that a million studies could not replace the real experience of a place and people.
Research does force you to look closer at something that you otherwise might not have, so in this way it can enhance this experience. It certainly enhanced mine. I don't know if I would have appreciated those exchanges that I saw in the Berber souq, which superficially looked less involved than the ones I saw in other markets, if I was not made to think about why they operated as they did. On top of immersing you in another culture, research also provokes you to think about why things are as they are in your own. Why is it, and do they really have to be that way?
Usually we talk about culture shock in reference to that alienation you feel when you are dropped in the middle of a country other than your own. Another form is the reverse, which you feel when returning home from a radically different place, that transition of reprogramming all the new behaviors you have learned. These experiences are more than can fit inside the space of a canteloupe, even too big for me to absorb as they are happening, but I am more than eager to share them.Back in Marrakech today. I am spending these last few days taking some last minute notes between goodbyes. There is only so much I can do in nine days, but I am very pleased with what I did manage to get done. Starting as an independent study that will give me a boost for grad school applications, I can say that this time has turned just as much into a scouting tour for future projects. I already know that this time has been indispensible for that reason and for the fact that now I have better ideas on how to approach and organize this kind of research. I can definitely spend more time here if it means working with people as fantastic as I have.
In the past week I have learned more Darija (Moroccan Arabic) than I did in a month last year. This is the result of being in the same place for periods of time with very patient people (and maybe a translator around as a buffer) who speak not a word of my language. It is also how I learned Spanish, and I would think it is the only way to really learn a new language passably if it were not for the Moroccans that I met that can speak non Moroccan languages without really having been forced to. They are definitely not shy about what they know and it is something to learn from. Ma tahashumsh! they tell me. Don't be shy. This is how they learn, and once I am forced to get over my shyness in order to make it through a day, the effect is exponential in terms of progress. In the grander scheme, it is drops in the ocean of this language, but it has made a world of difference between myself and every single Moroccan person I talk to.
Yesterday I took the opportunity to visit a traditional souq outside Essaouira (choukrane jazilan!). It is called a Berber souq, but Arabic people may also conduct their business here. These markets meet only once a week, each one a different day of the week. They function as meeting places for exchange, dispute settlements, and discussion for other public concerns. Nearly all sellers and buyers are men. I might have been one of 5 (visible) women and of 10 foreigners in the whole souq, although Moroccan ¨city¨ people may also be seen somewhat as outsiders. A portion of the shops are in buildings, but most set up in tents or on rugs along the ground. A few sellers hawk their inventory and prices on lo
udspeakers, while others sit until someone comes by. Business is pretty active here, as I imagine some form of exchange must be on everyones mind for for having come to such a particular place at a particular time. Once lunch time comes around, sellers pack up their wares and their gains, and round up their animals to finish the business day.
This was by far one of the best experiences for my research, as it was unlike any of the other marketplaces I have seen so far. I would love to come back and do more work just in these souqs, as I feel this may give a better picture of Morocco from times before the cities depended on tourism for survival.
Essaouira is a small port city on the Atlantic coast of Morocco with a very Rasta feel. While Marrakech chews you up, Essaouira breathes you in so that you could easily spend a day sitting on the ramparts watching the waves crash up on the rocks, or strolling through the wide streets. The medina, also a World Heritage site, is littered with shops selling shoes, scarves, wood boxes, and other trinkets along whitewashed walls of tall buildings. The weather here is much kinder than that of Marrakech in the summer months, and even cold early in the year, which I am finding out the hard way.In a place like this it is easy to let your cares go with the breeze that winds through the medina. But we are here to work! Tomorrow, insha' Allah, we look forward to a great opportunity to see how it's really been done for hundreds of years at the weekly bazaar. More on that later.
Once upon a time there was a princess who lived in a castle. One day her cousin asked for her hand in marriage, but she refused. Angry and insulted by her refusal, he threatened to kill her, and so she fled, leaving behind her luxurious life as a kings daughter. Now she needed to find a way to feed herself, so she shaved her head and dressed herself in mens clothing, looking for a job. Her costume convinced everyone, but many people just didnt need anyone to work for them. She finally found a job with a man who sold doughnuts. For her payment, she only asked that she have three doughnuts a day for herself, and a place to sleep. Business soared for her and her boss. Some years later, her brother and her father, the king, came to the shop and recognized her.
If I knew Darija, or Moroccan Arabic, I could tell you what happens next and some more detail, but this is a work in progress. In the meantime we must rely on someone telling me what he can about whats going on (choukrane to my wonderful translator!).
This is the kind of story that you can hear in the Djemma el Fna. An older man tells the story in front of a small crowd, made up entirely of men. There are no women, I am told, because the language can fall hard on the ears. Just before he finishes, he solicits his audience for some coins.
I think I came across some chatter that in the old days, some anthropologists believed that the market and culture were separate things (I will have to brush up on this debate). However, when you see that culture in the form of say, Moroccan storytelling, becomes marketable, even to itself as in Moroccan people, the fusion is undeniable. You cant help but ask how this comes to be, and how, and if, you can distinguish the culture that is marketed from that which is not. In a place like Marrakech, culture is top commodity. Some things are modified especially for foreign tourists, like the hammams, or public baths, while the typical un-glorified ones continue as they were (as far as I know) to be a facet of Moroccan daily life. On the other hand, Marrakchis learn language on top of language to cater to foreign tourists. Language is an asset in the market, for both tourist buyers and Moroccan sellers, but it also becomes a feature of Moroccan culture, indeed one of the fastest means of cultural assimilation.
Obviously the causes and effects of this fusion demand a long, involved, but fascinating, study. For now, we do what we can with 9 days.
Bargaining is ubiquitous in Arabic speaking Islamic cultures, reads one of my lit research articles.* Even the Prophet, as the article notes and so I have been told, bargained with God on how many times a day Muslims must pray. God began with 50 times (<---not 5000. Choukrane Youssef & Jehanzeb!). When the Prophet asked that he acknowledge human needs and imperfections, God settled on 5.
I experience bargaining in the market, and today I realize I experience it at the Moroccan table. Kulli, kulli! my matronly hostess demands after I put down my piece of bread, full. Eat! she says. I dont know how much more I can eat before I burst at the seams, but I dont know what will happen if I outright refuse. When I say that I am full, she says I must not like her food, which I promise is not the case. So we are faced with opposing interests. She wants me to eat more, and I dont want any at all. Damage can be done on either side. We must compromise. I break off a piece of bread and give it to another friend at the table, and I say I will eat if someone else eats with me. I know he is also full, so the spotlight eases off me. I eat a little bit more, and I hope that she believes that I do in fact enjoy her food. Finally the table is cleared with both of us satisfied and neither offended.
Moroccan people, especially one as gracious as my friends mother, dont let you out of their houses easily, or even a crumb short of full. I still did get in some time at the market today, and I even got one good sample, but as my recruit explained, business was quiet in his part of town. Right now I can hear the drums of the Djemma el Fna from this internet cafe. These will continue after the shops close, which is usually about ten o clock, and beat along with the rest of the spectacles, well into the night. Tomorrow, insha Allah, we go on soaking it in.
*Alon, Ilai, etc. Perceptions of Time and their Impact on Negotiations in Arabic Speaking Islamic Cultures... the rest of the citation TBA once I get my hands on it again.
In Arabic,
Morocco is called al-maghreb, or المغرب, read right to left, and it
means sunset. When the Arab conquest was at its peak, the sun would begin its journey over the empire at its furthest reaches in India, and set dramatically here at its western border. I only speculate that this is the narrative of how the country got its name.Al-maghreb comes from the Arabic word for west, which is gharab (غرب).
The maghreb has another meaning for Moroccan and non Moroccan Muslims alike, as it is one of the 5 daily prayer times mandated in the Quran. It is also when they may break their fasts during Ramadan.
...because it can get slippery if say, someone tells you that Moroccans speak Arabic, and so you absorb 5 books on the Arabic language, and then, when you get to Morocco, you find you cannot understand a word after "salam alekum."
Arabic is the language of the Quran and therefore, of the Muslim world. Even those Muslims whose native language is not Arabic are still encouraged to learn it so that they can understand the Quran, which they say cannot be fully understood in any translated form. And then, even those who are native speakers of Arabic may not be able to fully understand Quranic Arabic because it is such an old and highly involved form. Some would take religious classes to better comprehend its meaning.
For modern formal communications such as newscasts and political speeches, all countries from Morocco to Iraq use Modern Standard Arabic.* Unless otherwise noted, this is what Arabic language books will teach. This standardized version of Arabic derived from the Quranic form is not a native tongue to anyone, but it is said that the Levantine dialects such as those of Syria and Palestine are among the closer spoken forms of it. The Moroccan or Maghreb dialect is arguably the most deviant form. It is so different that a Middle Eastern person could not understand what Moroccans are saying, although Moroccans can generally understand Middle Easterners because most movies and popular media come from Egypt and Lebanon. Needless to say that you can also speak MSA with most of them, but you still won't know if they are talking about you in Moroccan....
So if I want to go to Morocco and I really want to understand what people are saying, I have to be a little more creative on how to learn it, because there are very few books on the dialect. I don't want to get hung up on the reading and writing as I might in other languages (although it helps a lot to know the Arabic alphabet), because it is a spoken language, and not for formal discourse. I suppose that's why there is not much on it in print. Fortunately I have come across some indispensable resources, my wonderful Moroccan coworkers not the least of them. The others include Lonely Planet's Moroccan Arabic Phrasebook, and a fantastic website at www.speakmoroccan.com where you can read and ask questions about language, culture, and anything Moroccan.
For this project, I do not know nearly enough of this language to base my observations on it, so most of the data has to be non-verbal. I will use what I can understand (things other than curse words), like greetings, numbers, and any other phrases (curse words are relevant). These days leading up to takeoff, I've been using spare moments to brush up so that I can have more to draw on for my qualitative data ... not to mention it's lots of fun, and gratifying when you can understand something new.
*Check out Arabs need to find their tongue for a short but interesting commentary on the politics of MSA by JHU professor Niloofer Haeri.
