Ceci’s Watson Journey

The wise words of many of my professors have already begun to ring true during my first week in Morocco; research, and particularly of the anthropological sort, is fluid and the mark of an experienced and sound researcher is his/her ability to adapt to the circumstances the field presents.  Interestingly, the same qualities are a necessity for a Watson fellow, and one factor on how they make their decisions.

Now, only in my first week in Casablanca, I am experiencing the difficulties and rewards in learning these skills.  The original focus of my study was to examine the Arab Muslim perspective on the causes for the Jewish migration; however, I am finding it challenging to meet Arab Muslims in the first place, and as for the ones I have met, the problem lies in developing enough mutual trust to allow for a conversation on such a sensitive topic to take place.

For example, I made friends with the receptionist at the hotel I was staying at when he helped me take care of my cell phone and found a sim card I had lost.  He showed me around Casablanca for a few hours and we stopped to have a cup of coffee at a cafe.  There, we began “talking politics,” which since then I have learned is just not a great idea.  He told me that he does not like the king of Morocco because he is friends with Israel; understandably, after that I deliberately concealed my identity and did not feel comfortable enough to ask questions on the Jewish migration.  Later in the week I told this story to a Jewish man whose family has been incredibly welcoming and helpful to me, and he said that if I would have told him I was Jewish, he probably would have told me he loves Jews.  So, this research is truly becoming a balancing act of judgment calls, and it seems that I still have a lot to learn.  Good thing it is only the first week:)

My first real exposure to the non-white (as a majority) world was in JFK airport waiting on line to check into Royal Air Maroc flight AT203 non-stop to Casablanca. It felt as if I was standing at the cross section of the world; I saw people with lighter skin than me and dressed as if they just stepped of a Parisian runway, then African women dressed in colorful, flamboyant garb that is their trademark passed through my line of sight, until I finally laid eyes on the covered heads and thick dark mustaches I had been expecting. I heard people speaking everything from English, to French, to Arabic to Spanish to African dialects, and I had never felt like I had stuck out as so different in my entire life. I suppose this is why I’m here; to occupy my observational post as an outsider (like a good anthropologist), and when appropriate, engaging and immersing myself in the people and culture I have studied from the far reaches of my books and scholarly journals. I wish I could be more specific about “people and culture” in this inadvertent narrative of my personal and academic goals for this trip, but for now I am only certain that I will try to understand something about this part of the world by being here. As of yet, I have no sweeping conclusions to speak of, but it’s only the airport.