Ceci’s Watson Journey

During my time in Casablanca (on and off for the last 3 months) I was lucky enough to find a hotel room that has a TV and also even 1 channel in English: the BBC! This is really great news for me, not only because I am a news-junky, but because it was extremely important to me to follow the US Presidential election this fall. And the BBC has not disappointed; they run segments, stories and updates on the election with every broadcast and have done so for the last 3 months. However, it is really their “slogan” that captures the essence of what I will refer to as the “international perspective” on the current race for President of the United States: “US Election 08: the vote that affects your world.”

Sometimes it saddens me to not be home for such a momentous event in the history of my country; I imagine the rallies, the presidential debates being viewed in bars across the country amongst friends and then the continuing of the debate over a beer afterwards, “election fever,” and simply the experience, for the first time in my life, of an America that is actually engaged in its political process. However, my election fall has been the opposite of dull; the people I meet in Morocco fill the void created by my physical absence in the US with thoughtful questions, concerns and debates, and have certainly given me a unique election experience and a rare outlook on the race from the international perspective. It is as if the BBC’s slogan has really captured the mentality of the people in Morocco- Moroccans, Muslims, Jews, tourists, migrants- because the widespread interest and knowledge of the US election by these people is truly extraordinary. They certainly are conscious that the outcome will affect even their every day lives here, and for that reason, jump at the chance to discuss the issues with a real live American (me!)

And for those of you who know me, you know how I relish such opportunities. In the following paragraphs I will outline the election trends and support I have observed, along with interesting stories on the subject. But first, I want to make clear how often I encounter a person who wants to “talk politics”- everyone from fellow travelers in hostels, to taxi drivers, to the guy trying to sell you a tajine pot from his shop in the medina, to families that have invited me for dinner. Even people who do not speak English, and who I begin conversing with in my simple Arabic, can easily communicate the question on their minds… “McCain or Obama?” And my answer is always the same, and the majority of the time responded to with a smile or a thumbs up: “Obama, of course.”

I have only met 1 Moroccan Muslim McCain supporter in 3 months. I believe this is pretty telling, considering the fact that I talk to almost everyone I meet and much of the time these discussions include politics. The overwhelming majority of Moroccans are devout Obama supporters and anticipate that an Obama presidency of the Untied States will help ease the US-Muslim-world divide, which they argue was created by George W. Bush. They view McCain as another conservative war-monger, with his sights set on the Muslim and Arab world; in other words, a McCain administration would only continue George Bush’s foreign policy. Needless to say, Moroccans hate Bush, and I think that their support for Obama is as much an anti-Bush/anti-McCain stance, as it is pro-Obama and his policies. His message of “change” has certainly resonated here, as Moroccans believe that Obama will enact policies that will restore America’s previously auspicious international image and, perhaps most importantly, policies that end the unfair targeting of the Muslim world (this week’s events provide the case in point- the US attacks on both Syria and Pakistan are considered just more examples of a Bush policy that labels all Muslims and Arabs as terrorists, without regard to national sovereignty, sound intelligence, or the safety of civilians).

During my travels I have also met many tourists, particularly from Europe, and interestingly enough, their opinions on the subject echo those of Moroccans. However, there is one story that has stood out in my mind over the last few months, and even helped me move from undecided to “team Obama.” While in my backpacker’s hostel in Chefchaouen in the beginning of September, I met a very nice couple from Spain (Marc is from Madrid and Julia from Barcelona). I hit it off with them not only because they appreciated that I knew Spanish (even though we spoke in English because theirs was excellent), but also because I have lived in Spain in the past. At one point, Marc says, “OK, so I have to ask you because I am very interested in the politics going on in America right now. And I’m sure you get this question a lot… but really, who do you want to win and who do you think is going to win?” At the time, I was still undecided, so I told him so, and I told him that it was incredibly close and I did not think anyone could speculate until Election Day. I went on to tell him that I had my doubts on Obama winning because there is such a large portion of the United States, which is often ignored because its out of the cities/coast, that is still racist and would never vote for a black man. He responded that this was his biggest fear and then went on to explain to me why it was essential for the US’s status as a super power for Obama to win: he argued that the US’s biggest current problem is the deterioration of its international image. With international respect for the US diminishing, suspicion rising, and hatred towards Bush at sky-high levels, the US loses the support of its allies and its leverage in diplomatic and economic negotiations. Therefore, he continued, the United States needs a new face to persuade the rest of the world that Bush’s US is a thing of the past and that someone can return the US to its historically good name and image. Because the rest of the world is actively looking for and seeking this new American face, they have embraced Obama as the one who can provide it.

This argument on the significance of America’s reputation to the global population was only further confirmed to me throughout the last 3 months. People in Morocco and Europeans do not hate America or Americans, per se, because they recognize that the policies of one president in 8 years do not reflect the American population or history as a whole. While they do strongly oppose Bush and his policies, they ultimately believe that America, still the world superpower, can return to its position of esteem and grace, and will if the right leader is in power. And the major idea contributing to this conviction, is the foreign belief that Obama will pull troops out of Iraq.

The last and rare demographic worth discussing is the Jewish Moroccan perspective on the election. As I spend a lot of time dining with Jewish Moroccan families, the issue of the election inevitably arises at almost every meal. And Jewish Moroccans almost unanimously support McCain. When I ask why the answer is usually, “Because he is a Muslim/Arab and will be bad for Israel,” and also usually includes some positive reference to Bush’s policies towards Israel. While none of this is, in fact, true, it conveys the real power of Jewish bubbemaisers; most of the Jews I know have received that chain email that claims that all Jews should boycott Obama because he is a Muslim and will destroy Israel (usually coming from a Jewish grandmother). The Jewish Moroccans truly believe this to be fact, and still do not believe me most of the time when I justify Obama as my choice for President.

I, of course, begin by explaining to them that Israel, and foreign policy in general, is the most important issue to me, and that I was born to an Israeli father as a Zionist, currently have an Israeli passport and a significant amount of family living in the country. I would never vote for someone that would threaten Israel because of my personal and professional ties, interests and stakes in the country. I then try to politely explain to them that their facts are wrong. Obama is not and has never been an Arab, first of all. He is neither a Muslim; his father is a Muslim from Kenya (not an Arab country), who divorced his mother when Obama was 2 and only ever spent 1 month with his son throughout his life. Aside for the fact that both parents are confirmed atheists, Obama joined the United Church of Christ and has been a practicing Christian for over 20 years. Furthermore, I try to explain, even if he was a Muslim, the United States is a democratic country that not only preserves the separation of church and state, but also whose decisions are not solely made by 1 person. Additionally, in order to be a threat to Israel he would have to fight a core American value that is pro-Israel, as well as many institutional apparatus that protect both American Jews and Israel.

Then I usually ask them why they think Bush was good for Israel, to which I have yet to receive a concrete response with tangible answers. This opens the door for my favorite topic of conversation, and I reply, “Let’s consider events in Israel since Bush began his don’t-ask-don’t-tell policy towards it: we lost a war against Hezbollah in the North, which empowered them enough to become democratically elected members of the Lebanese parliament; Hamas took over the Gaza Strip and now has a stronghold to launch attacks against Israel, which also caused a weakening in the position of Abbas and Fatah, Israel’s sole negotiating partner for peace; the peace process is worse off now than 8 years ago, particularly as Israel continues to build the settlements in the West Bank, which will be the largest hurdle in final settlement negotiations; and finally, Bush’s policies in Iraq caused the instability in the region that allowed for the rise of power and arrogance of Iran, Israel’s most formidable enemy and threat.” Sometimes I tell them that all of these things happened because Bush turned a blind eye to Israel, allowing it to do whatever it pleases, which is bad for the country in the long run (as these examples demonstrate). Israel needs an American President with vision, foresight, strength and respect in order to truly address its core security issues and work towards peace in the region that will ultimately benefit everyone.

It’s hard to believe that this long-fought campaign is coming to an end, and the world will finally have the answer to its long-awaited question: “What direction are the US and the world heading towards?” Regardless of who wins, I do not envy them; they have MONUMENTAL tasks ahead of them cleaning up the mess that the Bush administration left behind. I just hope that Americans and foreigners alike do not set their expectations too high and get disappointed. The undoing of America’s image and the current global economic and political instability took 8 years to achieve, and will take at least as many to mend. May G-d help their soul.

My friend Dan Reich also wrote about the election on his blog…  http://danreich.com/?p=73 The video at the bottom is really cute:)

Agadir is a lovely beach resort city located on the Atlantic Ocean in the south of Morocco. After many years of reconstruction after an earthquake in 1960 completely devastated the city, Agadir is now one of Morocco’s top beach resort destinations. Wealthy Moroccans, as well as Europeans from the United Kingdom to Russia, frequent the cty year round because of its gorgeous weather and beaches. I intended to take a quick, 2-day trip there after a hectic hiloulah-weekend in Essaouira, in order to unwind, get a tan and take a break from work before heading to Marrakesh. However, as I seem to always manage, I found some Jews and stayed a few extra days to learn about their community in Agadir.

I met the first Jews sort of by accident- I read in my trusty Lonely Planet that there is a great restaurant on the beach called Chez Mimi, who’s cuisine reflects Mimi’s origins- French, Spanish and Jewish. I went figuring maybe I could chat with Mimi a little over dinner, and that would be that. Well, it turned out that Mimi wasn’t there when I sat down for dinner, but I was thrilled anyway because they had kosher meat available on the menu AND served alcohol. This is my kind of place. About halfway through the meal, Mimi’s husband, Alan, approached my table asking if I had asked for Mimi. After explaining to him that I had, a little about myself and why I wanted to meet her, he returned to my table with his and my dinner and we dined together while talking about Jewish things. He informed me that I should return the next afternoon when Mimi was working, as she would be happy to meet me and talk to me. I couldn’t believe my luck when he reported that in 2 days a Yizkor was being held at the synagogue; it was a rare occasion for most of the community to gather because they rarely even receive a minyan on Shabbat. The following is a summary of what I learned at the Yizkor about the Jewish community in Agadir.

The Jewish community in Agadir was very numerous when the earthquake struck in 1960; it did not discriminate between Muslims and Jews and many from both communities were lost during this tragedy. The city decided not to try to sift through the wreckage nor to rebuild the old medina that was the site of ruin and destruction, but instead, built a cemetery right on top of the former medina. Both a Muslim and a Jewish cemetery can be visited today, eerily on top of the exact spot where the city used to stand. In the years following the earthquake, the new city of Agadir was built further down the hill from the old medina. Many of the Jews that survived the earthquake moved to Marrakesh (a few hours away) or other cities in Morocco.

The community that currently resides in Agadir numbers about 80, approximately 20 families, and consists of mainly older people. This number fluctuates as many Jews only reside in Agadir for vacation and usually have other homes in Europe. After the earthquake, the city gave the Jewish community a piece of land on which to build a new synagogue, and this stands today. Unfortunately, they do not usually receive a minyan for Shabbat, and Jewish life is relatively limited in the city. However, the Jews here live well; many of them own thriving businesses in this bustling tourist city, get along well with their Arab neighbors and live comfortably. Mimi and Alan even explained to me that they have more difficulties with the 4000 French people living in Agadir than the Arabs. They reported that this community is racist because they consider themselves superior to the other communities in Agadir, they only associate with one another, and they even behave nastily to the couple because they close the restaurant on Friday afternoons for Shabbat. On the other hand, they argue, the Arabs respect their establishment and their decisions and the couple maintains very strong relationships and even friendships with the Moroccans residing in Agadir.

While it didn’t end up being a true “get away” because I was able to meet Jews and learn about the Jewish history of the city, I truly enjoyed my time in Agadir. Its modern and European appearance did actually make me feel like I had left Morocco for a few days, which was a nice change after about 6 weeks in the country. Think- Eilat, Israel. Furthermore, I felt completely at home with the Jewish community there; everyone was excited to meet me and talk to me and I was even able to make contacts for my travels later in the year.

Every year in America the month of Ramadan passes by with little change or notice; however and perhaps obviously, in a Muslim country, life and people’s attitudes and schedules are completely altered as they observe the holiest month of the Muslim Calendar.

The religious obligations for Muslims during Ramadan is to abstain from eating, drinking, and smoking from sun-up to sun-down every day for a month. Other habits, such as drinking alcohol, premarital sex, drug use etc., are forbidden in Islam but may or may not be observed during the year, depending on the religious devotion of the person. During Ramadan, however, they are avoided particularly during the day, and oftentimes throughout the entire month. Furthermore, it is required of Muslims to continue to work throughout the duration of the month. According to a devout Muslim friend of mine, the religious significance behind the fasting is for every Muslim to step into the shoes of a person who is less fortunate and perhaps cannot afford food regularly. Through fasting, Muslims gain sympathy for the underprivileged and hopefully increase the zakat, or charity, they give. Additionally, it is supposed to be a time for family and prayer.

The religious “rules” for Ramadan cause a very interesting shift in the every day reality in Muslim countries. First and foremost, their schedules change drastically; many Moroccans wake up at around 4 am to eat breakfast before the sun comes up. Afterwards, they sleep until about 10 am and then begin their day. As soon as the call to prayer is rung, at around 6:30 or 7 pm (sunset), all Moroccans run to have break fast. Many Moroccans also eat dinner at about midnight or 1 am, before retiring to bed. Having had break fast with some different families and friends, it was comforting to observe the relative uniformity of the traditional break fast: dates (which are unbelievably delicious in Morocco), harira (a tomato-based soup with chickpeas, barley or rice, and sometimes meat), shabbakia (a fried dough-cookie that is marinated in honey and sprinkled with sesame seeds), m’lawi (a layered, doughy, savory pancake that is grilled giving it a crunchy exterior and a stretchy, chewy interior. It is sometimes stuffed with fried onions or meat.), and always a milk based smoothie that has fruit, orange flower, and stale bread in it. It is definitely an interesting mix of sweet and savory, but delicious, nonetheless. Dinner and breakfast usually include “normal” Moroccan fare.

Life outside the home also changes drastically during the month of Ramadan. Stores, shops etc. do not open until later in the morning because the owners are sleeping. Many restaurants and cafes not in central or touristy areas are closed during the day, and it is not uncommon to find an irritable or cranky Moroccan, particularly after 4 pm. What was especially bizarre for me, particularly the first time I was aware of it in Tangier, was the nature of the cities from around 6:15 pm to about 830 pm every single night. My hotel was located on a very busy, central street in Tangier and my first night there I stepped onto the sidewalk at about 630 and found the street completely, almost eerily, deserted. As the entire country observes the fast, EVERYONE returns home for break fast at precisely the same time, leaving the country virtually lifeless during this special time. At about 9 pm, however, it is as if the country does a complete 180, and all the people that were fasting, tired and hungry all day, emerge on the streets, nourished and in good spirits. Cafes are filled to the brim with men drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes, and playing cards, while women are found in groups all over the streets chatting or watching their children play around.

A few other interesting notes about Ramadan’s observance in Morocco… Unlike some other Muslim countries, all Moroccans fast, without question. And fasting is not only religiously mandated, but partially government enforced. I heard from hotel/restaurant owners that serving a Muslim during the day during Ramadan can “cause trouble” for them, and it was rumored that if a Muslim is found eating/drinking/smoking during Ramadan, they could be imprisoned or worse. While I never witnessed this firsthand, I heard the rumors.

While Ramadan may have been slightly inconvenient for me, as a tourist in Morocco, it felt like a special and different time to be in Morocco. Except for the cranky few, the Moroccans generally attempt to behave even more nicely and appropriately than usual, and the devotion not only to the religion, but also to the cultural customs and practices associated with the eid (holiday) was truly refreshing. In their attempts to recognize the difficulties of others and cleanse their spirits after a year, it seemed to me that the Moroccan Muslims were also trying to refocus their attention to the importance of family and tradition, and I believe that anyone, from any religious background, can recognize the importance and value in such a nationwide effort.

Tucked away at the base of the Rif Mountains in the north of Morocco is a picturesque little tourist town called Chefchaouen. After hearing my friend Marc rave about it after his Watson year and passing through it for an hour with my family, I knew that I must return during my month of exploring the cities outside of Casablanca.

For planning/timing purposes it was my first stop and I spent about 2 days in this enchanting town admiring the beautiful views of the mountains, wandering through the narrow winding streets of the medina painted a bright refreshing blue by Jewish refugees from Spain in the 1930s and enjoying the generally relaxed and tranquil ambience and people of this town. I drank tea in the busy Place Uta-el-Hammam, visited the Kasbah (fort protecting the medina) and its museum, and walked to a small waterfall and pool whose water travels down the mountain and allows for the locals to wash their clothes and keep refreshed during the hot summer. Aside for these lovely aspects of Chefchaouen, this town also attracts large numbers of backpackers because of its proximity to the Rif Mountains and its most widespread cash crop…

For centuries the Rif Mountains have been the home of numerous plantations notorious for the growth and distribution of marijuana, or “kif” in Arabic. The historical importance of this plant for this region cannot be overstated; it was used for medical purposes, for social gatherings and for economic sustainability. As an important part of its culture, the use and distribution of kif in this area is still widespread and relatively open, despite the 2004 law that forbade its growth. In practice, however, the law is enforced only on occasion.

I would like to clarify that my fondness for Chefchaouen is not derived from this small aspect of its culture, but rather from its character, tranquility, and beauty (which these photos convey gorgeously).  Any comments insinuating the former WILL NOT BE APPROVED.

One of the must-do “cultural experiences” while in Morocco, or the Middle East in general, is to get cleansed in a hammam. Before actually going, all Mommy, Anat and I knew was that we were going to a communal shower and maybe a woman would clean us. While that is true, we were in for quite a surprise.

Before I get into the details of the hammam, I have to share some personal aspects about my mom and my upbringing, with regard to sanitation. The word “cooties” was a word we learned at a very young age; they were almost like the boogie man for me when I was young. I knew they were bad, dangerous and to be avoided at all cost, but I could never see them or actually tell you what they were. And where did we learn this? From my mother, of course. Even though I used to not exactly know what she meant by “cooties,” I avoided contact with unfamiliar toilet seats, shower/bathroom floors, spotted glasses, food touched by a stranger’s hand, bars of soap etc. LIKE THE PLAGUE, so terrified that if, g-d forbid, I fell onto a public toilet seat, I would be infected with AIDS. The trouble with being socialized that way at a young age is that it really stays with you. To this day I would rather drop dead than sit on a public toilet seat, and even my former roommate Mary Beth used to make fun of me for wearing shoes in our shower that was covered with a new shower mat that we had bought. I understand how ridiculous this might sound, but it is important to know before proceeding with the story.

Before we entered the hammam the woman at the locker check handed all three of us blue-turned-black shower shoes to wear, which we all 3 looked at and simultaneously said, “No thank you, we have our own.” You never know what kind of foot cooty the girl before you could have had, or if they wash those shoes at all! It’s perfectly reasonable. Beforehand, I was told that you must go to the hammam completely naked, to which Anat was extremely hesitant (understatement of the century). She manned up and we all walked into the hammam completely nude, only to find that the majority of the women in there were indeed wearing underwear. Great, awkward balloon number 1.

It is a large, tiled, steamy, square room, bordered by fountains and bidet-type wash stations on 3 sides, and showers on the fourth. Arranged around the room were red tables with women of all ages laying on them in all their naked or not-so naked glory, getting scrubbed by the employees whom were all wearing soaking wet khaki wrap around skirts and a pink colored tank top.

Our “host” took me by the hand, dragged me across the slippery tile floor (I guess the cooty shoes actually have traction, unlike my $6.99 Sunsations sandals) to a tub full of a black gelly/paste like substance (soap), and reached her hand in to scoop some into all three of our hands. We then proceeded to a steam room where one other woman was washing herself. Our host threw water on us, told us to start washing ourselves with the soap and left. Well, when I finished I didn’t know what to do so I thought I would test out the exfoliating glove we had bought. As soon as I began, the other lady in the steam room kindly but sternly informed me that I clearly have to wash the soap off first. At that moment, our host walks in, begins scolding me for essentially doing her job, throws water on me to rinse me off, and drags me out to the main washing room. Awkward balloon number 2.

At this point, I was separated from my mom and sister and mentally prepared myself to sit on one of those red tables completely nude. She does me the “courtesy” of lightly hosing down the table before I got on, which made the climb onto the table a bit more comfortable. But I couldn’t stop thinking about Mommy and Anat and their probable mortification at having to put their bare bodies on this table where hundreds have women have sat before.

As for me, I got used to it and actually began to enjoy the scrub down I was receiving from this Moroccan woman. We spoke a little bit of Arabic together as she scrubbed away layers and weeks of my dead skin, when all of a sudden, as a result of the vigor with which she scrubbed, her breast slipped out from under her shirt and was bouncing around with every stroke. Shocked and embarrassed, I diverted my eyes and realized that my hostess was the only woman working at the hammam wearing a tube top pink shirt; just my luck. Awkward balloon number 3. Anyways, she finished my scrub-down half-exposed and I eventually got used to her large, old, saggy breast bouncing around in front of my face because I figured that the two of us had definitely already passed the point of “appropriate.”

After the ordeal was over, Mommy, Anat and I exchanged stories, and overall I was very proud of how the “cootie crew” handled the hammam. We all agreed that yes, it was a little uncomfortable in the beginning, but the place itself seemed very sanitary and when it was over we all felt very clean and refreshed. I think the hammam was a baby step away from our cootie-phobia, but I don’t see either of the 3 of us showering without shoes in the near future.

First, I have to apologize for not posting for about 3 weeks. I hope I didn’t lose my captive audience! It is terrible and I am sorry, but in my defense, my family was here for a 10-day visit so I was pretty occupied. Also, I posted pictures on my facebook page for anyone who wants to match these stories to some photos. At some point I will figure out how to get pictures on the site, but for now facebook is the only program that seems to be compatible with Moroccan internet haha. This post will pretty much cover the Sibony-family-whirlwind-tour of Morocco, from a traveler’s point of view.

Yes, we went on vacation in the sense that the Sibony’s went somewhere not home for 10 days. But if you associate “vacation” with relaxation, then my quotes are well-placed and appropriate; we managed to visit about 13 cities in 10 days! On August 19^th, Mommy, Aba, Anat, Zev, Safta (“grandma” in Hebrew) and I set out from the airport in Casablanca to Essouira, Marrakesh, Casablanca, Meknes, Fez, Chefchaouen, Tetuan, Tangier, Rabat, Safi, Azemmour, Volubilis, and Ourika. It was definitely a nice change to get out of the hustle and bustle of Casablanca and see more of the “real” or authentic Morocco. Many of the cities had something notable or special about them, which is why I am planning on returning to them during this month.

Essouira is a gorgeous little city on the beach in the south of Morocco. Notorious for its “killer waves” and relaxed atmosphere, surfers and backpackers from all over the world congregate in this enchanting Moroccan city. The medina was cute and I probably felt the most comfortable in it than almost any other city. We stayed in a Riad, which is a traditional Moroccan home; the front door opens into a court yard, usually adorned by some plants and greenery, and the rooms are located around and on the floors above the courtyard. Historically, all of the members of an extended family would live together in a Riad, perhaps because of or, as a result preserving the importance of family in Moroccan culture. Our Riad was called the Riad Medina, was beautifully decorated and had a true Moroccan feel and ambiance. While in Essouira, we saw the old Jewish synagogue, a memorial of many Jewish tzadikim, and wandered around the medina and the port during our less-than-24-hour stay.

Marrakesh is one of Morocco’s premier tourist destinations. The Medina was fairly large, but relatively standard (busy, full of food and goods vendors). That is, except for the HUGE plaza called Djema el-Fna, located near the Ketoubia, or the city’s tallest mosque (with a minaret of 70 meters high) and most famous icon. The plaza is enormous and during sunset transforms into a circus, literally and figuratively- storytellers attract big crowds telling ancient folklore in Arabic, acrobats perform right in the square and you can even pay to take a picture with a snake or monkey! When we walked to the back of the square we were bombarded (read: harassed) by men with menus trying to lure us to their “restaurants” (stalls in the square with tables arranged around them). In the Ville Nouvelle outside of the Medina, the city transforms into a modern and gorgeous oasis, complete with wide boulevards lined with palm trees and large beautiful hotels. One morning we decided to rent 4×4s for a 2-hour ride through the pseudo-desert villages outside of Marrakesh. It was really fun, but we all were completely tan-colored and parched from all the sand we ate haha. We even were able to eat tajine and couscous at a Kosher restaurant in the Ville Nouvelle!

Before I talk about the family visit to Casablanca, I want to mention a few things about my Safta. She was born and raised in Casablanca and moved to Israel in 1956. Her first return to the country of her childhood was 7 years ago, but she wanted to come with my family this time to visit me. It was really nice having her around not only because she actually speaks both French and Arabic, but also because she was so eager to show us the memorable places of her childhood and to share many stories from those days as well. I feel that I really got to know my grandmother during this trip and I learned a lot from her. Spending Shabbat in Casa, the adults and I went to the synagogue I have been attending all month; it was nice to show my parents this beautiful synagogue, which ironically also happens to be located in my Safta’s old high school. My dad got invited to Shabbat dinner at someone’s house (haha) and I told him that this is normal. While in Casa we saw the Hassan II Mosque, which was incredible. It is the 3^rd biggest mosque in the world, bigger than St. Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican and ultra modern, equipped with a huge retractable roof. It is also absolutely gorgeous on the inside, with marble floors (that are covered with mats when the mosque is used for prayer), all hand crafted walls and ceilings, and Murano chandeliers from Venice. We also spent a morning in the Medina, where Safta ran around, with us dragging behind, pointing out her old house in the Mellah (Jewish quarter), her father’s old barber shop, her aunt’s old café etc. We even had time to go to a hammam (which will be the subject of a future post) after spending the day at one of Casablanca’s expensive and exclusive beach clubs. “Tahiti Beach” is full of swimming pools, football (not American) courts, chairs and sofas to lounge on, restaurants, and even private rooms that you can rent for the summer. We also ate at this amazing Kosher restaurant historically called “Americano” but now officially called “Café Aknoul,” twice during the 10-day trip.

We visited Meknes on our way to Fez. Once home to 20,000 Jews, only less than 10 Jewish families still live there, and we met a few of them when we visited their synagogue. Fez’s Jewish community is larger and more organized, and as such, has a synagogue, community center and kosher restaurant, which we visited. But for a regular tourist, these 2 cities are famous for being former imperial cities in Moroccan history. Furthermore, Fez is considered the religious and cultural capital of Morocco, which is made evident when visiting the oldest university in the world, University Al Karaouinem tucked away inside the Medina walls. Its ancient Medina is large, busy and full of the famous Fez tiling, leather and hats. Fez Al-Jdid (“new Fez”) was given its name because it was built after the Medina and outside of its walls in the 13^th century. It became a refuge for Jews in the 14^th century creating a Mellah, which is evidenced by the architecture in this part of the city. Jews built homes with balconies that open above the street, which Muslims would not build because of the respect for the privacy (or concealing) of women. We walked down one avenue in this part of town and the tour guide told us that the Jews used to live on 1 side, where the balconies were, and the Muslims would live on the other, and the everyday-life of business and shopping and mingling would occur in the middle of the two.

To be honest, Tangier and Rabat get confused in my head. They seemed, at least aesthetically, fairly similar, with smaller medinas and more developed, more European Villes Nouvelles. Rabat, the political capital of Morocco, is home to the King’s main palace, the mausoleum for former kings, and the Tour Hassan (the “sister” building of the Ketoubia). Tangier is interesting because of the heavy Spanish influence on it; Spanish is spoken more than French and it is a popular Spanish tourist destination.

We quickly stopped in Safi and Azemmour to view some Jewish sites, Chefchaouen to check out a Rif Mountain city, and Tetuan to just pass through. We hit Volubilis, the ancient Roman ruins at the edge of the Middle Atlas, on our way from Ourika Valley, which lies in between Marrakesh and the High Atlas Mountains. In the Ourika Valley we visited a very interesting typical Berber village and saw how they grow and produce almost everything they need with very little means or resources.

So that’s pretty much a summary of the Sibony family visit to Morocco. I think the most important lesson I learned from this trip was the real value of moderation in one’s life. Before my family came I was beginning to feel lonely and really longed for familiar people that speak my language, but of course, the 10 days were not perfectly amicable. There was the usual bickering and arguments that comes with the territory of spending 24 hours/10 days with a group of people in the close quarters of a van or hotel room. And by the end, I was looking forward to having some alone time, a feeling which has of course fled by this time of writing, when loneliness sinks in again. It seems that balance and moderation is one key to that abstract term “happiness,” but I guess that is something to be explored after July 2009.

Many of you, and many Moroccans, have been asking me what exactly it is I do every day.  The truth is that every day is different, but I seem to be relatively busy (after I wake up around 10 or 11 am haha) on a given day (if you know me well, this shouldn’t come as a surprise.)  Here are two examples of thoughts and things that have taken up my time:

1)

The other day I received an email from my friend Dan back in New Jersey.  He unfortunately had surgery on his jaw a few weeks ago and his mouth has been wired shut ever since- yes, he has to drink his food for about 6 weeks.  So, understandably, he uses his own blog as an easier means of commnication during this difficult time.  I was ecstatic to learn from him that he “shouted me out” on his blog!!! (I am sure there is a more blogger-professional name for it, but I am new to this haha)  So, I wanted to return the favor…

His attitude is honorably positive during this trying time:

“But through this extremely unpleasant experience, I can undoubtedly say that I have gained some new perspective on many things. I’m sure I’ll be better for it in the end.” http://danreich.wordpress.com/

So my question is this… does it take the depravation of something we are used to in our every day lives to finally gain the appropriate appreciation for it?  In other words, how good is Dan’s first bite of a hamburger going to be, and will hamburgers, or any solid food for that matter, always in the future taste that much more savory for him?  Will this appreciation for what before seemed ordinary, make him a better person in the end, as he surmised?

These questions can be asked of any person, and are also particularly interesting for my research.  Since I have been here I have found many differences between the Moroccan and American Jewish communities.  First and foremost, is the devotion and importance of religion.  Among the people I have met, Shabbat and Kashrut is kept consistently and strictly and synagogue is attended at least once a week and on holidays.  Furthermore, the community here is much more tight-knit and everyone here is willing to lend a helping hand to a fellow Jew.  My favorite example of this (besides for the woman who invited me to stay with her) is that when a woman enters the women’s section of the synagogue, she usually kisses everyone she passes on her way to her seat, even a stranger like me!

Us Americans know that this is not the case in your average American Jewish community.  Synagogue, which is less often attended, can be perceived as more of a fashion show than the space for a religious observance and it would be strange for an American Jew to invite a stranger from another country to their home for dinner, let alone to live.  So, is their a parallel between American Jewish customs and attitudes and Dan’s attitude toward solid food pre-surgery?  Are they so caught up in the complacency and ease of life as a Jew in America that they do not appreciate the aspects of Jewish history that other Jews have had to fight for for centuries, like our Moroccan brothers and sisters?  In my opinion, in the past Jewish Moroccans have lived with “their mouths wired shut” (perhaps not that extreme, but for the purpose of the analogy) and as a result, hold an extreme appreciation for their ability to practice their religion freely in the present.  I suppose the lesson to be learned is that perhaps hardships in life are necessary, in order to ensure that people live in the present with an appreciation of what it was they were deprived in the past. 

Finally, it is not my goal to wish hardships upon American Jews, rather to provide a bit of perspective to the ones I can reach about the importance of remembering that one day, like Dan, your mouth may be wired shut as well, and to appreciate the liberties, or solid food (gotta finish the analogy haa) of the present while they are available.

2)

The next example is less contemplative, and more indicative of my physical, every day life.  I have mentioned that not knowing French is an issue for me, so I spent all of last week looking for a French class.  I consulted my guide books and went to visit about 5 schools that offer French, only to find them all closed for the summer.  Discouraged, and walking away from yet another let-down, I stopped at a store called “Nokia Care” to see if they could help me with my American cell phone that still does not work here.  I ended up talking to this lady who spoke English very well and she explained to me that it is illegal for them to fix it, but told me she would ask a friend to bring it to the illegal place to have it unlocked.  I was skeptical at first, but figured I did not have much to lose, except a phone that didn’t work anyway.  Then I asked her for directions to the American Library in Casablanca (this was my last resort for finding a French tutor).  After I told her I was looking for a French class, she told me that she goes there a lot and has friends that work there, and proceeded to call the Librarian there and arrange a meeting with him for me.  I went there later in the day and found out that not only did he know someone who could teach me French, but for 60 dirham (about 8 dollars) a YEAR I could become a member and have access to English books (which are difficult to find here) and computers.  So, today I had my first French class with this really nice lady named Mahjuba, who has 2 graduate degrees, one of which in English literature.

I thought this was a cute and reflective story of my new life as a traveler/researcher… you never know how you are going to figure things out, but perhaps they do because of the fact that I “talk to everyone” (courtesy of Anat- maybe the 17 year old cashier with braces at Foodtown is not worth my time, but these skill are definitely coming in handy:)

I should start by thanking everyone for checking in on me and leaving me such great comments!  It really means a lot to me that everyone is interested in my travels and enjoying my posts!

Next, I have to say that I love Casablanca.  It has been 6 days and I must admit that my pre-departure anxieties, thank G-d, have been relatively unfounded.  I have not actually been “alone” all that often; someone from the community is always calling me to make sure I am OK, or asking to come have dinner at their house or go to the beach etc.  The perfect example of this is that I have only paid for 2 meals in the 6 days I have been here- that is absurd haha.  Another, is that when I went to synagogue on Saturday morning for services, I met a very nice woman who spoke English and asked me where I was living.  When I told her I was in a hotel, she insisted I move in with her, so that is where I have been staying;  So many of them have welcomed and embraced me so much and I am very very grateful. 

I have also met many Jewish Moroccans my age, which is unusual in Casablanca because most of them, if not all, move abroad to attend Universities after high school.  Many of them are home this month visiting their families, so I have made some friends my age.  It sucks that they all leave soon, but I have also found a few that live here year-round, so I am set.  I have yet to check out the nightlife here, but I have seen the bars and clubs and will hopefully have details soon (after the Jewish holiday of 9 of Av- a time of mourning).

A normal day here for me so far consists of meetings and appointments with various knowledgeable people holding Jewish positions in Casablanca, taking long walks, and visiting people in their homes.  Its pretty sweet.  I have to admit that the language issue is becoming frustrating; my Arabic is relatively unuseful for understanding Moroccan, no matter how hard I try, and after finally conceding that it is urgent for me to learn French, I cannot find a class, institute or tutor that is open during the summer.  So my language difficulties continue and I am trying to deal with these frustrations.

OK I think that is all for now.  I love all of the comments, so keep them coming!  And if you send me a message, I will try my best to return it.  Miss you all.

Thoughts:

As you could imagine, I had a lot of things on my mind as I walked into the airport. It was definitely difficult to say “see you in a year” to a lot of people, but the strangest was saying “bye” to my home in New Jersey. After living in a place for most of your life, you get attached, but the time has come for new beginnings for me and the rest of my family.