October 26, 2006
October 26, 2006
I now have more than five days to catch up on, because I went from being sick (which really ate up my energy and my desire to do anything...nothing serious, I think I just had an allergic reaction to something in the harira—the soup served during Ramadan, and it took about six days and a trip to the doctor's to figure out what was making me ill) to being on holiday. There is so much to cover that I will attempt to clump things into subjects rather than try to write chronologically.
First of all, school. Mostafa's school in Ras Tbouda has more than most rural schools but what a contrast to what we have in Epping! And the routines are so very different. For a start, students move in groups. As a result, scheduling is nearly a breeze. If you want to change the schedule, all 30 + students change their schedule. I think this is reflective of the focus of learning. There is a new initiative in Morocco to make classes more student centered, but our schedules show how student centered we already are. Here, students choice is simply determined by their track: are they science/math or social sciences. What year are they in their high school cycle? They basically move in a pack, whereas in Epping, some of my students will only see their French classmates in my class on any given day.
Curriculum is determined by the state. Mostafa, for example, has been handed a textbook for first year English that says right in the foreword that it is a second year book! It results in massive frustration on the part of the teacher (because he is required to cover the material lesson by lesson and will be evaluated accordingly) and especially on the part of the student who is required to operate at a second year level without having ever been exposed to the language! Mostafa and I have talked about it extensively, and he is sort of working around the book by presenting material from last year's first year book (which began at the beginning!), throwing massive amounts of material at the students in hopes that when he finally gets to lesson 1, they will have some context. Imagine, they don't know the alphabet, and they are supposed to discuss what their schedule is at school, family relations, routines, likes and dislikes, etc. So much for national curriculum. It's an idea that makes some sense: no matter where you go in the country, you will be studying the exact same thing as your peers. And when you finish, any employer or tech school or university will know what you have covered. But the texts are chosen by individuals who may have little or no experience in the subject area, much less teaching. I feel blessed that I am allowed to choose the text I feel I can best teach. And I get done what I feel absolutely has to be done, regardless of where the book ends. According to Mostafa, they are mandated to finish the book here.
Teaching styles vary quite a bit (as they do anywhere). Mostafa employs a lot of strategies to encourage speech, lots of open ended questions especially with the upper levels. Whereas Ali's class was quite cut and dry. “Take out your copy books and write the answers to (concrete) questions #1-8.” (no variation). He complained that the class was very weak, but when there is only one right answer, I think students feel intimidated by questions. Interestingly enough, both teachers seem to assume that reading or homework is very rarely done outside of class. And yet, today, when Mostafa attempted to draw out discussion on the questions he had given them for homework, I saw plenty of paragraphs, but few students willing to communicate what they had written. I think they are very shy and unsure of themselves, perhaps especially because of me. Most of them indicate this by looking away, smiling or covering their mouths. Perhaps they are even unaware of this. Peer correction seems to be encouraged, however, and students are obviously used to being corrected by their classmates.
One practice I find very interesting is that students are encouraged to attend other classes when they are free: for example, as long as there are seats, if you are taking first year English with Ali, you can sit in on Mostafa's class during a different period if you are not scheduled for another class. This allows them to review what they may have learned earlier or catch up on work they may have missed. Good system.
Another item that surfaced in the second year class, while discussing memories of other school years, was that corporal punishment, although officially banned, is fairly widespread. A common punishment is to have a student take off his shoes and then beat his bare feet. Other students in the classroom can actually be called upon to perform this task! This is only done at the primary level and only in public schools, but I still find the practice reprehensible. Yet I know that corporal punishment was still popular when I was growing up, so we're not that far ahead. (Yeah, I'm old but not that old!)
Another interesting facet of Moroccan public education is that the study of the Islamic religion is also mandated. (Once again, we take so many of our freedoms for granted, don't we?) For those of you who may not know what the five pillars of Islam are:
There is one God and Mohamed is his prophet.
One must pray five times per day (and there are specifics at to how this is to be done.)
Fasting during Ramadan (if you are old enough and able to do so) is required from sunup until sundown for the 28 or 29 days during that lunar month.
Alms must be given to the poor.
If you are physically and financially able, you should make a pilgrimage to Mecca.
There is ritual cleansing before prayers or before entering a mosque, and only Muslims are allowed in the mosques. There are restrictions as to what you can eat or drink, and although I was aware of the prohibition against pork, I was not aware of the fact that animals that are killed for food must be slaughtered in a certain way. It follows basically the same rules that exist for kosher food, so when Mostafa comes, I will need to know how to provide him with appropriate food.
One final note about school is that there is no place for students to be when they are not in class (which may be one reason why sitting in on other classes is encouraged). If you are not in class, you are in fact LOCKED OUT of the compound and made to wait in the space outside of the school which is totally unprotected from the elements! This is also true during lunch! So if it's raining or snowing or boiling hot, tant pis! What do you think of that, Epping students?
Ramadan is finally over, so I don't have to feel guilty anymore for eating during the day, but what a wonderful insight into the culture. On the 26th day of Ramadan, little girls and boys were dressed in traditional costumes, as if for a wedding, and put in these silver horseless coaches and carried about just like brides and grooms are carried about at a wedding. This becomes especially true on la nuit du destin which marks the revelation of the Koran to the prophet. I was allowed to go to Salah's preschool to witness this, and I have some great pictures I will try and share here. Girls henna their hands and wear beautiful caftans. Boys are dressed in the traditional white or off white caftans with matching fez. The picture taking is everywhere, and people are out til nearly midnight with their children while this is going on. The traditional music is played everywhere, which is much like what I described watching Salah's baptism video. There are these long horns that make this huge ear splitting noise that almost sounds like a giant kazoo, although that description can't possibly allow you to get an idea of the sound. There were some stringed instruments as well, but they played a series of the same notes over and over. Once again, it is in praise of Allah and quite hypnotic. (and loud). Interestingly enough, I have not heard American music played anywhere! So different from in France, where American culture, especially the music, invades the senses no matter where you go.
So, some more observations. Moroccan homes are absolutely immaculate (at least all the ones I have seen). The floors are mopped daily (there are even drains in the tiled floors to catch the water), windows are scrubbed, carpets are swept. But go outside of the home, and there is garbage literally everywhere. I talked to Hind about this, and she thinks it is because of a) a lack of education and b)anger that only the rich areas have regular trash removal, so people just throw things into the street. We went to this beautiful stretch of beach while outside of Casablanca, and there were dirty pampers, water bottles, yogurt containers, and all manner of trash in piles on the sand. We stopped en route to Casablanca and at this little strip mall where Mostafa bought cookies and water, there were piles of trash everywhere. The fields are littered with plastic bags and pieces of paper. It is very sad, because the landscape in many places is quite breathtaking. The coast, especially, knocked my socks off. Incredible surf (and there were a group of boys and young men surfing right next to the Hassan II Mosque in these huge waves), wonderful shades of blue and gray and green water. We sat in a cafe (yes, at this particular cafe on the coast in a resort town called El Jadida, there were women and children in the cafe) and watched the sunset over the ocean while Salah played in the sand. It was beautiful.
Everyone, and I mean everyone, has a TV. People will even sacrifice basic needs (from what I have read) to ensure they have a TV in their home. Around dinner time in Mostafa's household, the TV goes on and is on most of the time in the evening. I guess this is probably pretty typical of the U.S. (many people call it USA, pronounced OOZA), but I hardly ever watch TV, so, for me, the plethora of satellite dishes arrayed on the rooftops is such a contrast to the clotheslines next to them. When I talk to people, their view of the USA is based almost exclusively on what they have seen on T.V. One of the statements made to me that meant the most came from Hind's mother who told me that I had projected perhaps the best possible image for her on the face of America. (We had had many philosophical discussions about our foreign policy, our leaders, what people in the USA perceived of the Arab world, during which I really felt the importance of my presence here.) However, what continues to impress me is that many of the programs are broadcast in various languages—primarily Arabic, of course, but next French, some in Berber and some in English with Arabic subtitles. This is truly a multilingual nation. Even Salah, who is only 3 and a half years old, endeavors constantly to communicate with me in French. My Arabic is still pretty pathetic: please, thank you, come here, no, yes, Peace be with You, I'm fine, my name is, his/her name is, mine, and cool/neat or as my students would probably say, “sick”.
The new constantly is in contrast to the old. There are very few closets (as we perceive them), but there are computers. There's a McDonalds with a playland, but the outside area is decorated like the inside of a Moroccan home. There are dishwashers, but in the bathroom, there is probably a wooden washboard to scrub your clothes that you will hang outside or on a rack to dry. There are twin towers in Casablanca, but directly below them are buildings from the 1930s in terrible disrepair, some of them nothing but rubble. There are modern malls and shops and there are bidonvilles, buildings with tin covered rooves which constitute the slums of Casablanca.
Which speaks of another glaring contrast in Morocco: the rich vs the poor. The Hassan II Mosque is the highest religious building in the world. Its interior will hold 25,000 people with a courtyard that can accommodate another 80,000. It is built over water to reflect a statement in the Koran that God's throne is on water. The ceiling is removable! It cost nearly $750 million dollars! But look across the way, and the poverty of Casablanca is in full view of the opulence of the mosque. Many grumble that the projects being launched in various cities ) to emphasize the country's beauty and move towards modernity could be better spent reducing the poverty and improving access to education.
Finally, a word or two about the role of women. It is amazing to think that in the 1940s and 50s there were still harems in existence right here in Fes. (No, not like the 1001 nights you have read about, but extended families where women were cloistered, not allowed to venture outside without the permission of their husbands or eldest male relatives and then only accompanied.) But things are changing. Bigamy is still permitted, but only under certain conditions. Women now, by law, must be present if their husband wishes to divorce them, and they are guaranteed a home in which to raise their children. They are protected, by law, from being forced into a marriage at an age less than 18 years old. They are being ushered into a new age. But they still have a long way to go. Houda, Hind's sister, indicated that although a woman can now survive a divorce, her chances of starting a new life (as I have done) are slim and none. Women are still fighting centuries of stereotypes. It is still very difficult to be an independent woman in Morocco. Just one more thing before I sign off (whew). I saw my first camel close up! It was in El Jadida where pictures were still being taken of children as the El Aid Fitr marked the end of Ramadan. What I couldn't get over, other than its size, was what beautiful eyes it had! It had lashes so big it almost look dreamy-eyed. What a magic country this is.
I now have more than five days to catch up on, because I went from being sick (which really ate up my energy and my desire to do anything...nothing serious, I think I just had an allergic reaction to something in the harira—the soup served during Ramadan, and it took about six days and a trip to the doctor's to figure out what was making me ill) to being on holiday. There is so much to cover that I will attempt to clump things into subjects rather than try to write chronologically.
First of all, school. Mostafa's school in Ras Tbouda has more than most rural schools but what a contrast to what we have in Epping! And the routines are so very different. For a start, students move in groups. As a result, scheduling is nearly a breeze. If you want to change the schedule, all 30 + students change their schedule. I think this is reflective of the focus of learning. There is a new initiative in Morocco to make classes more student centered, but our schedules show how student centered we already are. Here, students choice is simply determined by their track: are they science/math or social sciences. What year are they in their high school cycle? They basically move in a pack, whereas in Epping, some of my students will only see their French classmates in my class on any given day.
Curriculum is determined by the state. Mostafa, for example, has been handed a textbook for first year English that says right in the foreword that it is a second year book! It results in massive frustration on the part of the teacher (because he is required to cover the material lesson by lesson and will be evaluated accordingly) and especially on the part of the student who is required to operate at a second year level without having ever been exposed to the language! Mostafa and I have talked about it extensively, and he is sort of working around the book by presenting material from last year's first year book (which began at the beginning!), throwing massive amounts of material at the students in hopes that when he finally gets to lesson 1, they will have some context. Imagine, they don't know the alphabet, and they are supposed to discuss what their schedule is at school, family relations, routines, likes and dislikes, etc. So much for national curriculum. It's an idea that makes some sense: no matter where you go in the country, you will be studying the exact same thing as your peers. And when you finish, any employer or tech school or university will know what you have covered. But the texts are chosen by individuals who may have little or no experience in the subject area, much less teaching. I feel blessed that I am allowed to choose the text I feel I can best teach. And I get done what I feel absolutely has to be done, regardless of where the book ends. According to Mostafa, they are mandated to finish the book here.
Teaching styles vary quite a bit (as they do anywhere). Mostafa employs a lot of strategies to encourage speech, lots of open ended questions especially with the upper levels. Whereas Ali's class was quite cut and dry. “Take out your copy books and write the answers to (concrete) questions #1-8.” (no variation). He complained that the class was very weak, but when there is only one right answer, I think students feel intimidated by questions. Interestingly enough, both teachers seem to assume that reading or homework is very rarely done outside of class. And yet, today, when Mostafa attempted to draw out discussion on the questions he had given them for homework, I saw plenty of paragraphs, but few students willing to communicate what they had written. I think they are very shy and unsure of themselves, perhaps especially because of me. Most of them indicate this by looking away, smiling or covering their mouths. Perhaps they are even unaware of this. Peer correction seems to be encouraged, however, and students are obviously used to being corrected by their classmates.
One practice I find very interesting is that students are encouraged to attend other classes when they are free: for example, as long as there are seats, if you are taking first year English with Ali, you can sit in on Mostafa's class during a different period if you are not scheduled for another class. This allows them to review what they may have learned earlier or catch up on work they may have missed. Good system.
Another item that surfaced in the second year class, while discussing memories of other school years, was that corporal punishment, although officially banned, is fairly widespread. A common punishment is to have a student take off his shoes and then beat his bare feet. Other students in the classroom can actually be called upon to perform this task! This is only done at the primary level and only in public schools, but I still find the practice reprehensible. Yet I know that corporal punishment was still popular when I was growing up, so we're not that far ahead. (Yeah, I'm old but not that old!)
Another interesting facet of Moroccan public education is that the study of the Islamic religion is also mandated. (Once again, we take so many of our freedoms for granted, don't we?) For those of you who may not know what the five pillars of Islam are:
There is one God and Mohamed is his prophet.
One must pray five times per day (and there are specifics at to how this is to be done.)
Fasting during Ramadan (if you are old enough and able to do so) is required from sunup until sundown for the 28 or 29 days during that lunar month.
Alms must be given to the poor.
If you are physically and financially able, you should make a pilgrimage to Mecca.
There is ritual cleansing before prayers or before entering a mosque, and only Muslims are allowed in the mosques. There are restrictions as to what you can eat or drink, and although I was aware of the prohibition against pork, I was not aware of the fact that animals that are killed for food must be slaughtered in a certain way. It follows basically the same rules that exist for kosher food, so when Mostafa comes, I will need to know how to provide him with appropriate food.
One final note about school is that there is no place for students to be when they are not in class (which may be one reason why sitting in on other classes is encouraged). If you are not in class, you are in fact LOCKED OUT of the compound and made to wait in the space outside of the school which is totally unprotected from the elements! This is also true during lunch! So if it's raining or snowing or boiling hot, tant pis! What do you think of that, Epping students?
Ramadan is finally over, so I don't have to feel guilty anymore for eating during the day, but what a wonderful insight into the culture. On the 26th day of Ramadan, little girls and boys were dressed in traditional costumes, as if for a wedding, and put in these silver horseless coaches and carried about just like brides and grooms are carried about at a wedding. This becomes especially true on la nuit du destin which marks the revelation of the Koran to the prophet. I was allowed to go to Salah's preschool to witness this, and I have some great pictures I will try and share here. Girls henna their hands and wear beautiful caftans. Boys are dressed in the traditional white or off white caftans with matching fez. The picture taking is everywhere, and people are out til nearly midnight with their children while this is going on. The traditional music is played everywhere, which is much like what I described watching Salah's baptism video. There are these long horns that make this huge ear splitting noise that almost sounds like a giant kazoo, although that description can't possibly allow you to get an idea of the sound. There were some stringed instruments as well, but they played a series of the same notes over and over. Once again, it is in praise of Allah and quite hypnotic. (and loud). Interestingly enough, I have not heard American music played anywhere! So different from in France, where American culture, especially the music, invades the senses no matter where you go.
So, some more observations. Moroccan homes are absolutely immaculate (at least all the ones I have seen). The floors are mopped daily (there are even drains in the tiled floors to catch the water), windows are scrubbed, carpets are swept. But go outside of the home, and there is garbage literally everywhere. I talked to Hind about this, and she thinks it is because of a) a lack of education and b)anger that only the rich areas have regular trash removal, so people just throw things into the street. We went to this beautiful stretch of beach while outside of Casablanca, and there were dirty pampers, water bottles, yogurt containers, and all manner of trash in piles on the sand. We stopped en route to Casablanca and at this little strip mall where Mostafa bought cookies and water, there were piles of trash everywhere. The fields are littered with plastic bags and pieces of paper. It is very sad, because the landscape in many places is quite breathtaking. The coast, especially, knocked my socks off. Incredible surf (and there were a group of boys and young men surfing right next to the Hassan II Mosque in these huge waves), wonderful shades of blue and gray and green water. We sat in a cafe (yes, at this particular cafe on the coast in a resort town called El Jadida, there were women and children in the cafe) and watched the sunset over the ocean while Salah played in the sand. It was beautiful.
Everyone, and I mean everyone, has a TV. People will even sacrifice basic needs (from what I have read) to ensure they have a TV in their home. Around dinner time in Mostafa's household, the TV goes on and is on most of the time in the evening. I guess this is probably pretty typical of the U.S. (many people call it USA, pronounced OOZA), but I hardly ever watch TV, so, for me, the plethora of satellite dishes arrayed on the rooftops is such a contrast to the clotheslines next to them. When I talk to people, their view of the USA is based almost exclusively on what they have seen on T.V. One of the statements made to me that meant the most came from Hind's mother who told me that I had projected perhaps the best possible image for her on the face of America. (We had had many philosophical discussions about our foreign policy, our leaders, what people in the USA perceived of the Arab world, during which I really felt the importance of my presence here.) However, what continues to impress me is that many of the programs are broadcast in various languages—primarily Arabic, of course, but next French, some in Berber and some in English with Arabic subtitles. This is truly a multilingual nation. Even Salah, who is only 3 and a half years old, endeavors constantly to communicate with me in French. My Arabic is still pretty pathetic: please, thank you, come here, no, yes, Peace be with You, I'm fine, my name is, his/her name is, mine, and cool/neat or as my students would probably say, “sick”.
The new constantly is in contrast to the old. There are very few closets (as we perceive them), but there are computers. There's a McDonalds with a playland, but the outside area is decorated like the inside of a Moroccan home. There are dishwashers, but in the bathroom, there is probably a wooden washboard to scrub your clothes that you will hang outside or on a rack to dry. There are twin towers in Casablanca, but directly below them are buildings from the 1930s in terrible disrepair, some of them nothing but rubble. There are modern malls and shops and there are bidonvilles, buildings with tin covered rooves which constitute the slums of Casablanca.
Which speaks of another glaring contrast in Morocco: the rich vs the poor. The Hassan II Mosque is the highest religious building in the world. Its interior will hold 25,000 people with a courtyard that can accommodate another 80,000. It is built over water to reflect a statement in the Koran that God's throne is on water. The ceiling is removable! It cost nearly $750 million dollars! But look across the way, and the poverty of Casablanca is in full view of the opulence of the mosque. Many grumble that the projects being launched in various cities ) to emphasize the country's beauty and move towards modernity could be better spent reducing the poverty and improving access to education.
Finally, a word or two about the role of women. It is amazing to think that in the 1940s and 50s there were still harems in existence right here in Fes. (No, not like the 1001 nights you have read about, but extended families where women were cloistered, not allowed to venture outside without the permission of their husbands or eldest male relatives and then only accompanied.) But things are changing. Bigamy is still permitted, but only under certain conditions. Women now, by law, must be present if their husband wishes to divorce them, and they are guaranteed a home in which to raise their children. They are protected, by law, from being forced into a marriage at an age less than 18 years old. They are being ushered into a new age. But they still have a long way to go. Houda, Hind's sister, indicated that although a woman can now survive a divorce, her chances of starting a new life (as I have done) are slim and none. Women are still fighting centuries of stereotypes. It is still very difficult to be an independent woman in Morocco. Just one more thing before I sign off (whew). I saw my first camel close up! It was in El Jadida where pictures were still being taken of children as the El Aid Fitr marked the end of Ramadan. What I couldn't get over, other than its size, was what beautiful eyes it had! It had lashes so big it almost look dreamy-eyed. What a magic country this is.
posted by Mme Garnett | 3:48 PM
1 Comments:
You're a wonderful writer.
Post a Comment
<< Home