Tips and Tricks

At the end of a long week, I have finally found some time to do some non-required writing! As promised, here is what happened to me yesterday:

I went down (altitude-wise, since it's actually north of here) to Fes with five other folks: a VMI keydet (Eddie), another American exchange student (Kelsi), a French exchange student (Camille), and two Moroccan students. We left here around 10ish, and we took a grand taxi to Fes and got there around 11:30. Upon arrival, we decided to head over to Marjane, the Moroccan hypermart chain, located on the outskirts of town.

Now, you might a fairly decent idea of what a hypermart is like. I don't. But the best comparison I can make is halfway between a Wal-Mart Supercenter and a full-fledged shopping mall. After all, how many Wal-Marts do you know of which have Lacoste and Swatch boutiques within their doors? Not many, at least from my experience!

Well, in any case, one of the main reasons why I needed to go to Marjane was to purchase a jacket. Being the genius that I am, I had managed to pack everything except for a cold weather jacket. Since Ifrane's temperature fluctuates around 25 to 30 degrees Celsius over the course of a day, this has become a rather serious problem for me! In any case, my family had briefly investigated the cost of shipping the coat and other items to Morocco, but the cost of shipping (around $150-250, depending on the carrier) was to the point that it would be more economical to purchase a nice coat over here.

So, being a bit foolish, I decided to drop into the boutiques first. I think that I realized how bad this idea was when Eddie and I dropped into Lacoste. Indeed, upon asking for the price (in Moroccan derija, no less), we received the price (in French) in euro: a coat for only 300 euro! I decided to check out what was in Marjane proper. Fortunately, they had very nice, simple Italian black wool jackets on sale for around 400 dirhams, or about $50. Even more fortunately, they had them in my size! After getting some other items (mostly food; shopping while fasting is another very, very bad idea), we went on to check out.

Just to throw the very familiar shopping style of Marjane and the ville nouvelle into relief, we then moved onward to a place I had promised myself I would never return: the market in the medina qadima (old city in Arabic). As Fes receives a large number of tourists year-round, the medina is very much built around the tourist industry, meaning that shopkeepers are usually more aggressive (and prices therefore higher) than in cities on the road less traveled. That being said, I would still say that the Fes souk (market) is less aggressive than its counterpart in Marrakech!

Fortunately for me, I had wrapped up all of my planned purchases, meaning that I was not looking for anything in the medina. Unlike shopping in (most of) the fixed-price shops in the ville, one of the centerpieces of shopping in the medina is the ancient and noble art of haggling. It is a game of sorts played by both seller and buyer, and it certainly has many stages. The start is when the seller gets the potential buyer into his (most shopkeepers are male, so political correctness be damned!) shop. Often sellers of high-dollar items, like rugs, may offer his guest some mint tea, the Moroccan national drink, as the buyer looks at various items for sale. Once the buyer sees something he or she likes (many times the owners are very good at figuring out what the buyer wants the most, even if he or she feigns interest), then the next stage - that of negotiation - begins.

The price first given by the seller is never the price at which he intends to sell; most sellers are in fact insulted if the buyer doesn't negotiate the price down, as it doesn't follow the rules of the game. Frequent tactics by sellers include lowering price "because you're a student/American/whatever I want to get you to buy this," commenting on the quality of the product, the good cop/bad cop approach (the second seller is unwilling to drop the price, while the first and more senior seller "forces" a lower price), and preparing the product as if the sale has been completed. Conversely, tactics for the buyer include praising the seller and his goods, claiming a lack of funds (one good method is hiding funds in other pockets or areas, so as to show a lack of money: the poor student act!), and breaking off negotiations/walking, which (if timed correctly) can get a further drop in price.

However, once there is a handshake on a price, it is obligatory for the buyer to purchase; this is yet another rule of the game. The actions of the seller post-sale are a sign of how the buyer has done in the negotiations; if the seller is extremely angry at the buyer, then he or she has gotten a good price, while kindness from the seller probably means that the buyer has overpaid. Then the process begins with new buyers and sellers!

After going through this for what seemed like an eternity, we finally decided to escape the sweltering labyrinth of the Fes medina in order to prepare for ftour at a most unusual place: McDonald's, transcribed into Arabic as "MaakDounaalds." Incredibly, ol' Mickey D's has done a very good job of localizing in Morocco, as they were serving traditional ftour food in addition to their usual menu. Never before have I seen a McDonald's sell harira, dates, and bread alongside Big Macs and the "Royale Cheese" ("You mean they don't call it a Quarter Pounder with Cheese?")! After not eating or drinking for the day and walking several kilometers in the medina, I had a veritable feast. One "Maxi Best of..." (think like a large-size value menu) Royale Cheese (which they refused to make plain for some strange reason...), a bottle of strawberry-flavored water, and a Kit-Kat McFlurry. Never before (except for possibly one particular McDonald's in Stephen City, VA, where my dad and I stopped while moving my sister to New York) had McDonald's tasted so incredibly amazing.

After leaving the McDonald's crafted by the hands of Allah, we finally made our way back to Ifrane by grand taxi, tired but happy.

As always, I love getting comments or topic requests, so if you've got any for me, please feel free to email me at golladayp@gmail.com, and I'll see what I can do.

(Unfortunately) Back to the salt mines of academia,
Phillip

Apologies for not posting recently; unfortunately, my workload seems to only increase as I stay in Morocco. However, this post is obligatory, and not only because it is a journal entry for a course I am taking here! Since my most recent bit of writing, I have taken two different excursions: to the Roman ruins at Volubilis and the city of Meknes, and a weekend trip to Rabat, the capital of Morocco. As both trips certainly deserve an article each in their own right, I will come back to those trips in future updates.
Before that, though, I would like to take a little bit of time to talk about the phenomenon known as “culture shock,” or the reaction of people when they are in places unfamiliar to themselves (paraphrase of Stephen Bochner, as are parts of the following). Essentially, the idea is that there are predominately two major groups among foreign travelers: sojourners and settlers. While settlers are coming to an area for a permanent stay, sojourners (as their name suggests) are merely in an area for a temporary period. As a result, settlers tend to become active participants in their new cultures, while sojourners confine themselves to an observer status. The sojourner instead looks towards that which is familiar to him or her and subsequently determines that things not familiar are thus not as good as his or her own customs. This mainly comes from four so-called “push” factors – uncertainty coming from the unfamiliarity of the new culture, helplessness and self-doubt, confusion about one’s role, and revulsion at unfamiliar and controversial customs – and two “pull” factors: loss of status and homesickness.
Now that we’ve got a simple definition from which to work, I’d like to recap my past (almost) three weeks in the Kingdom of Morocco. First of all, I will state up front that I suffered an acute case of “culture shock;” however, my overwhelming fear of the country was caused in great part as I read Orin Hargraves’s book Culture Shock: Morocco, and I began to wonder if it really was a good idea to go to a country where I would be starting an unknown language from scratch. However, by the time I landed in Casablanca, I had finally wrapped my head around the idea that my French would provide a useful crutch until I had some Arabic under my belt. Indeed, perhaps the most surprising thing that has happened over the course of my stay has been the assumptions towards me on the part of Moroccans. While most Americans would expect to hear English spoken towards them (even in foreign countries), it came as a bit of a surprise that I – a foreigner – was being treated as if I was French, since the natural assumption is that any European-looking person is French or at least speaks French. In fact, the only times I have been addressed in English have been moments when I have been speaking to another person in English.
On the topic of English, one thing I have taken into account from the cultural prereading has been the way that Americans are viewed in Morocco. While the United States and Morocco have had a long and meaningful relationship spanning over two centuries, the image of the American – especially the American student – certainly conjures certain images, especially since (in the words of a school administrator) “[some Moroccans] think that you’re in the medina because it’s got the best kif and hashish in the world.” As a result, I have conducted a little experiment of my own. In certain situations, I have put on a Dutch accent and pretended to be, well, Dutch. This has occurred on two separate occasions, both of which occurred this weekend. The first time was in the souk in Rabat, where another student and I – in an effort to look less wealthy – decided to pretend to be poor students, which was in part true. As a result, I believe that we were seen by the merchants in a slightly different light than had we been American tourists looking to spend money, and we were able to have a better situation during price haggling. The second situation occurred yesterday after classes, when Zac and I were walking back home. We were approached by a Moroccan contemporary, who introduced himself to us. The conversation also moved to such things as drug use, particularly hashish. Being in a Dutch guise (the irony of which I realized soon after the encounter) made me more able to reject his advances, as we were able to get away from the situation.
Language and nationality has not been the only surprises I have encountered while in Morocco. As pointed out in my previous post (see it for more details), there have also been differences in dining here as well. Additional topics, which I shall address in future updates, include religion, gender relations, and whatever else any of you want me to look at. Feel free to send me an email at golladayp@gmail.com, and I’ll be happy to give whatever you send me a look.

Au revoir from Maroc.

Phillip

Unfortunately the internet at the institute has been rather spotty in the past week; additionally, what free time I previously had has now been consumed with large amounts of classwork. That being said, I will probably try to make my updates on a weekly basis, although I might try to have them more frequently.

Now that the administrative things have been taken care of, I’ll now move on to the meat and potatoes (pun partially intended) of this entry: food. As you may have noticed from my first entries, my life in Morocco is constantly revolving around food. Don’t get me wrong; it’s not a matter of the food being bad. There are some crucial differences regarding Moroccan dining versus American:

• The most notable difference (in our family, at least) is the total of meals. While almost everyone in the States have three meals a day, a common day in Morocco seems to have up to four meals: breakfast, lunch, a small meal around 6-8 PM, and a larger “dinner” served after 10 PM, usually between 11 PM and midnight.
• Additionally, the lunch and late dinner meals tend to be a lot larger than their American counterparts. A fast or light lunch is extremely unusual here; the Moroccan “lunch hour” is from noon until 3 PM. Following in the footsteps of the French and other southern Europeans, everything except for restaurants and café’s close during these hours.
• The serving of a meal is a little different from the States in that the main dish is typically served from a central dish from which you pick out your portions. This is also crucial when considering the use of hands: while it is completely normal (in some cases obligatory) to use hands in the common dish, it is taboo to use the left hand for religious (left hand is the devil’s hand) and sanitary (try living in areas where toilet paper is a rarity) reasons. However, it ultimately depends on the family. While my family does not really care about my choice of hands, I still use my right hand for common dishes.
• On the note of service and common dishes, another massive difference is with the base of the meal: bread. While American meals may have rolls or biscuits as a side item, bread in Morocco serves not only as the ubiquitous item during any meal but also as a utensil for the main dish. In order to do this, you tear the piece of bread in half and use the non-crust portion (with the right hand, of course!) as a sponge for the food.
• In all likelihood the most apparent difference once the meal begins is the prodding. You see, the cultural importance of sharing a meal with someone is massive in Islam in general and particularly so in Morocco. The idea is that sharing a meal is the ultimate show of peace towards someone; therefore, any refusal by the guest is considered to be extremely offensive. As a result, it is quite common for guests to be told to “Eat! Eat!” during the course of a meal. My roommate Zach has a theory on this: the two most important aspects of Moroccan society seem to be eating and talking. If a guest is not talking, he or she should be eating. As a result, the prodding tends to happen during lulls in conversation.

In short, I suppose that should explain what has been happening over the past (almost) two weeks with regards to food. If anybody has any specific questions about food or any other topics, feel free to send me an email (golladayp@gmail.com) and I will try to answer them in future updates.

Inshallah (God willing; I’ll explain fatalism and other topics next time) I’ll get another one of these up soon.

Phillip