October 18, 2006
October 18, 2006
There is so much to catch up on. I made a list last night, and got so overwhelmed I went to bed instead!
Little things. For example, it has never been said, but when you enter a carpeted area, you remove your shoes or slippers and go barefoot. I assume that this is in order to keep the carpet clean, and the carpets here are exquisite, as I mentioned on the pictures I posted of the medina.
To add to that, we also visited a shop where they make cloth (silk, cotton, wool and mixtures of each) which had four floors of wall to wall reams of cloth. The cloth is woven in the old way with huge looms and shuttles threaded by hand and moved from side to side with foot pedals. Ms Franke and I observed this same process in a museum in Germany two summers ago. There patterns had been “programmed” with metal blocks. In Germany this is all done by machine now, but here it continues to be done by hand without any pattern.
In each shop we entered, I was struck by the contrast of the dingy narrow streets and the expansive interiors of the rooms behind the doors that peppered the walls. Outside, there was absolutely no evidence of the opulence that lay hidden inside. We entered a former museum that had obviously once been a private residence. The central courtyard was open to all four floors. I kept looking up in awe at the intricate woodwork that edged the individual balconies. The floors were marble and the walls decorated with either beautiful tile mosaics or the recessed plaster designs you see even in the modern apartments. Unfortunately we were not allowed to take pictures inside because of the individual artwork, but hopefully I will have the opportunity at a later time.
After our visit to the medina, we were invited to Mostafa's mother's home for Iftar. There no one spoke anything but Arabic (and maybe a little French). After the meal, we sat down to watch the four hours of video of Salah's baptism. It took place when Salah was 9 days old, and according to tradition, this festive event was celebrated with the sacrifice of a ram. They showed the ram being killed and disemboweled, at which point I'm sure I turned green and had to turn away. So they fast forwarded to the second tape. The video, although long, bombarded me with the richness of this culture. For the event, they had hired a “band”. This band is totally percussive, nothing but frame drums and small hand drums and something that looks like bongos. Occasionally there was a wind instrument (the sound is what I associate with snake charmers just to give you an idea), but it was essentially hour upon hour of chant accompanied by percussive instruments. Hind explained that the band is hired for a certain price, and as people slip them additional bills, they stay longer than the prescribed time. They began with long praises to Allah which people listened to with great solemnity, occasionally clapping along. And one woman there offered that cry that's done with moving the tongue and uttering a very high pitched cry. It's hard to describe. This then switched to a faster paced chant that told about the preparation of a sacred food for feasts that consists of flour and almonds and sugar and a few other elements. The chant again incorporates praise to Allah and is considered spiritual music that is supposed to, in some cases, induce a trance state. Hind said that some of the women actually passed out after long periods of the chanting and dancing. The dancing is the same for men and women and consists of arms raised above the head moving in a somewhat circular motion, accompanied by a rhythmic movement of the hips and feet. It really was hypnotic. Contrary to what I would have expected, men and women danced together or alone.
The reason I say it is not what I would have expected is that in light of the traditional nature of this feast (which lasted two days, by the way), I was surprised to see the interaction between men and women. For example, one of the things that I have noticed during my stay is that there are absolutely no women in the cafes wherever we go! Only men. Hind explained that in the more modern section of the city (which we haven't really frequented yet) that a woman can enter a cafe if accompanied by a man, but that most cafes are exclusively male. Over and over, I am stuck by the contrast between the modern and the traditional.
On a more modern note, at 9 pm the other night, Hind took me to Marjane, which is a huge market that reminds me so much of Cora in France. It's not quite a warehouse store like BJs, because it's not a matter of buying in bulk but rather being able to buy everything from technology to dishes to yogurt. It's probably more like a Walmart, actually. But it has a different feel. I will be interested to see what Mostafa says when he sees Walmart.
Some comments about school. Classes vary from day to day. Mostafa's first class Monday didn't start until 2 so we didn't leave until 1 pm. Unless he has a class, he doesn't have to be there, and as I said before, he only has 11 hours of classes. Quite a different system. We left the school about 4:30 pm and got home by 5 pm. Hind has not even had any classes yet. This is because the other teachers (I think based on seniority) have been assigned certain classes and she didn't get her schedule until after those teachers had decided which classes they didn't want. The other day, she came home with her schedule. Because of its broken nature (8-10 am and then 2-4, which is very inconvenient because of commuting and getting Salah to and from preschool), she went today to protest. Upon arrival, she was told of an opportunity at the college level for a teacher of English at a scientific college. She is very excited and busily typing up her Curriculum Vitae.
I have now had two more days at school since my last entry so I've seen a little of how things are taught here. First of all, Mostafa speaks no Arabic with his students, only English. Even with his first year students who have only had a few classes. And I am extremely impressed with how quickly they master the instructions he gives them and grab at words that they couldn't have heard more than a handful of times. Yesterday, I sat in on an Advanced French class that was studying Stendahl's Le Rouge et Le Noir (which I read in college!) The teacher, once again, spoke no Arabic with his students, but conducted the entire analysis of the text in French. First of all, Stendahl is not easy stuff. There were vocabulary words in the chosen text from Chapter 4 that even I would have had to look up, but the students seemed to understand the gist of the selection, and I was especially impressed by the amplitude of their vocabulary. The teacher would ask for more than one or two words to describe the theme, the characterizations, the descriptions. From the violent nature of the father's diatribe they pulled angry, brutal, antagonistic, insulting, along with various other words illustrating their mastery of the richness of the language. Quite a contrast to my student's overuse of the word “sympa”, for example.
In Mostafa's first year class, we tried paired evaluation to review the numbers we had gone over the other day and discovered it was a bit difficult with the size class he has (more than 30!) They began to catch on towards the end, but I realized that to impose my methods on someone else was not the way to go. Mostafa also had me teach the alphabet song. The first class was not only able to grasp the letters but also the tune. The second class ended up sounding like the chanting of the Koran I hear everywhere. And I felt so out of my element. Teaching English can't be that much different than teaching French, can it? But I felt very awkward.
One of the more interesting exchanges was with a group of his former students. They were complaining that their present teacher is using Arabic in the class and as a result, they feel they are going backwards. But their facility was exceptional. Today, while home, I spent time looking over the book that these students used last year, and I was impressed that rather than teaching vocabulary and grammar as we do, they did both by embedding it in text that dealt with issues such as minorities, the role of women, human rights, leisure activities and the environment. The French III text I am using now does this more than any other text I have ever used, and I now see how useful that can be. It also tells me that my research project in French III and the mid-terms that both French III and IV/V do are on the right track. But I see that I can be even more demanding. Of course, this means I will have to have the cooperation of the students, and Mostafa's students are coming from such a different environment than mine. Mine have so much, and have no idea how blessed they are. For example, some of the students at his school WALK two hours to get to school! Can you imagine? For many, the textbook he has, which costs 30 dirham (which is a little over $3.00) is totally beyond their means so they have to share with their neighbors or go without. Yes, they have to buy their textbooks and all their own copy books and pens and pencils. When I showed them pictures of our school, Mostafa asked his students for their reaction. One of the boys spoke up and said, “It is a gift.” When asked which things they wished they could have, what they focused on was a library that was accessible to them. Computers! (There is no access to the internet at the school and computers are extremely limited.) A place where they can learn to cook or sew or work with wood! And oh, to have the luxury of a cafeteria. “You mean the students have such a luxurious place to sit and eat and they can actually buy food prepared for them?” Are you listening, Epping students??? And the students here don't have access to music classes or art.
So I will end my “discours” here as food for thought. Until next time.
There is so much to catch up on. I made a list last night, and got so overwhelmed I went to bed instead!
Little things. For example, it has never been said, but when you enter a carpeted area, you remove your shoes or slippers and go barefoot. I assume that this is in order to keep the carpet clean, and the carpets here are exquisite, as I mentioned on the pictures I posted of the medina.
To add to that, we also visited a shop where they make cloth (silk, cotton, wool and mixtures of each) which had four floors of wall to wall reams of cloth. The cloth is woven in the old way with huge looms and shuttles threaded by hand and moved from side to side with foot pedals. Ms Franke and I observed this same process in a museum in Germany two summers ago. There patterns had been “programmed” with metal blocks. In Germany this is all done by machine now, but here it continues to be done by hand without any pattern.
In each shop we entered, I was struck by the contrast of the dingy narrow streets and the expansive interiors of the rooms behind the doors that peppered the walls. Outside, there was absolutely no evidence of the opulence that lay hidden inside. We entered a former museum that had obviously once been a private residence. The central courtyard was open to all four floors. I kept looking up in awe at the intricate woodwork that edged the individual balconies. The floors were marble and the walls decorated with either beautiful tile mosaics or the recessed plaster designs you see even in the modern apartments. Unfortunately we were not allowed to take pictures inside because of the individual artwork, but hopefully I will have the opportunity at a later time.
After our visit to the medina, we were invited to Mostafa's mother's home for Iftar. There no one spoke anything but Arabic (and maybe a little French). After the meal, we sat down to watch the four hours of video of Salah's baptism. It took place when Salah was 9 days old, and according to tradition, this festive event was celebrated with the sacrifice of a ram. They showed the ram being killed and disemboweled, at which point I'm sure I turned green and had to turn away. So they fast forwarded to the second tape. The video, although long, bombarded me with the richness of this culture. For the event, they had hired a “band”. This band is totally percussive, nothing but frame drums and small hand drums and something that looks like bongos. Occasionally there was a wind instrument (the sound is what I associate with snake charmers just to give you an idea), but it was essentially hour upon hour of chant accompanied by percussive instruments. Hind explained that the band is hired for a certain price, and as people slip them additional bills, they stay longer than the prescribed time. They began with long praises to Allah which people listened to with great solemnity, occasionally clapping along. And one woman there offered that cry that's done with moving the tongue and uttering a very high pitched cry. It's hard to describe. This then switched to a faster paced chant that told about the preparation of a sacred food for feasts that consists of flour and almonds and sugar and a few other elements. The chant again incorporates praise to Allah and is considered spiritual music that is supposed to, in some cases, induce a trance state. Hind said that some of the women actually passed out after long periods of the chanting and dancing. The dancing is the same for men and women and consists of arms raised above the head moving in a somewhat circular motion, accompanied by a rhythmic movement of the hips and feet. It really was hypnotic. Contrary to what I would have expected, men and women danced together or alone.
The reason I say it is not what I would have expected is that in light of the traditional nature of this feast (which lasted two days, by the way), I was surprised to see the interaction between men and women. For example, one of the things that I have noticed during my stay is that there are absolutely no women in the cafes wherever we go! Only men. Hind explained that in the more modern section of the city (which we haven't really frequented yet) that a woman can enter a cafe if accompanied by a man, but that most cafes are exclusively male. Over and over, I am stuck by the contrast between the modern and the traditional.
On a more modern note, at 9 pm the other night, Hind took me to Marjane, which is a huge market that reminds me so much of Cora in France. It's not quite a warehouse store like BJs, because it's not a matter of buying in bulk but rather being able to buy everything from technology to dishes to yogurt. It's probably more like a Walmart, actually. But it has a different feel. I will be interested to see what Mostafa says when he sees Walmart.
Some comments about school. Classes vary from day to day. Mostafa's first class Monday didn't start until 2 so we didn't leave until 1 pm. Unless he has a class, he doesn't have to be there, and as I said before, he only has 11 hours of classes. Quite a different system. We left the school about 4:30 pm and got home by 5 pm. Hind has not even had any classes yet. This is because the other teachers (I think based on seniority) have been assigned certain classes and she didn't get her schedule until after those teachers had decided which classes they didn't want. The other day, she came home with her schedule. Because of its broken nature (8-10 am and then 2-4, which is very inconvenient because of commuting and getting Salah to and from preschool), she went today to protest. Upon arrival, she was told of an opportunity at the college level for a teacher of English at a scientific college. She is very excited and busily typing up her Curriculum Vitae.
I have now had two more days at school since my last entry so I've seen a little of how things are taught here. First of all, Mostafa speaks no Arabic with his students, only English. Even with his first year students who have only had a few classes. And I am extremely impressed with how quickly they master the instructions he gives them and grab at words that they couldn't have heard more than a handful of times. Yesterday, I sat in on an Advanced French class that was studying Stendahl's Le Rouge et Le Noir (which I read in college!) The teacher, once again, spoke no Arabic with his students, but conducted the entire analysis of the text in French. First of all, Stendahl is not easy stuff. There were vocabulary words in the chosen text from Chapter 4 that even I would have had to look up, but the students seemed to understand the gist of the selection, and I was especially impressed by the amplitude of their vocabulary. The teacher would ask for more than one or two words to describe the theme, the characterizations, the descriptions. From the violent nature of the father's diatribe they pulled angry, brutal, antagonistic, insulting, along with various other words illustrating their mastery of the richness of the language. Quite a contrast to my student's overuse of the word “sympa”, for example.
In Mostafa's first year class, we tried paired evaluation to review the numbers we had gone over the other day and discovered it was a bit difficult with the size class he has (more than 30!) They began to catch on towards the end, but I realized that to impose my methods on someone else was not the way to go. Mostafa also had me teach the alphabet song. The first class was not only able to grasp the letters but also the tune. The second class ended up sounding like the chanting of the Koran I hear everywhere. And I felt so out of my element. Teaching English can't be that much different than teaching French, can it? But I felt very awkward.
One of the more interesting exchanges was with a group of his former students. They were complaining that their present teacher is using Arabic in the class and as a result, they feel they are going backwards. But their facility was exceptional. Today, while home, I spent time looking over the book that these students used last year, and I was impressed that rather than teaching vocabulary and grammar as we do, they did both by embedding it in text that dealt with issues such as minorities, the role of women, human rights, leisure activities and the environment. The French III text I am using now does this more than any other text I have ever used, and I now see how useful that can be. It also tells me that my research project in French III and the mid-terms that both French III and IV/V do are on the right track. But I see that I can be even more demanding. Of course, this means I will have to have the cooperation of the students, and Mostafa's students are coming from such a different environment than mine. Mine have so much, and have no idea how blessed they are. For example, some of the students at his school WALK two hours to get to school! Can you imagine? For many, the textbook he has, which costs 30 dirham (which is a little over $3.00) is totally beyond their means so they have to share with their neighbors or go without. Yes, they have to buy their textbooks and all their own copy books and pens and pencils. When I showed them pictures of our school, Mostafa asked his students for their reaction. One of the boys spoke up and said, “It is a gift.” When asked which things they wished they could have, what they focused on was a library that was accessible to them. Computers! (There is no access to the internet at the school and computers are extremely limited.) A place where they can learn to cook or sew or work with wood! And oh, to have the luxury of a cafeteria. “You mean the students have such a luxurious place to sit and eat and they can actually buy food prepared for them?” Are you listening, Epping students??? And the students here don't have access to music classes or art.
So I will end my “discours” here as food for thought. Until next time.
posted by Mme Garnett | 6:03 PM
2 Comments:
Oh ,yes!How blessed we are and our students are to have free access to education!How detestful we are to complain with our "mouths full"!The air conditioning doesn't work, the food at the canteen is really lousy,the computer room us busy we can't read our mails....So many people in the world struggle to survive or to receive the basic knowledge .Yes, it's food for thought, it is indeed.Tell your people I love them.
Hi, Faith!
I finally sat down today and read your entire blog to date. Man, what a great experience! And you write about it and paint the pictures for us so well. It is all so fascinating. I'd have trouble with those LATE nights, though.
We miss you but are so thrilled for you.
The Assoc.meeting went well last Sunday.
Isn't technology something?! Thanks for keeping us up to date.
Diane
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