noun
The capacity to have an effect on the character, development, or behavior of someone or something, or the effect itself.
backbone
bækˌbəʊn
noun
1. a nontechnical name for spinal column
2. something that resembles the spinal column in function, position, or appearance
I have titled this post tet’thear, which in formal Arabic means influence. Influence as defined above is a broad concept full of nuance beyond the scope of a travel blog post but for the time being I will begin with a short anecdote. In the security briefing the speaker spoke of the world being flat and that problems faced here in Meknes are truly faced everywhere in the world. When I thought on this after the presentation it came to mind that the world in many ways has always been flat. We continue to press on with greater and greater certainty that we are part of a complex global system of 7 billion people. When walking around Meknes the influence of the world on this country and it on the world is palpable. In much the same way I felt in Jordan, one actually feels the physical presence of influence from the “other” on the place where one lives. In Michigan it can be easy to forget the roots of a place, the things that exists below the surface that make up the physical and metaphorical backbone of the city. It is easy to press forward because one need not understand the graves in the city cemetery to know the future of a given place in the United States. This way of thinking which has been bred into the American dream is what makes it so strange to be in a place that requires one to understand the past to see the future. To feel that metaphorical backbone of a city that controls the way the buildings look, the way the people act, the language that is spoken, and the work that takes place; is a strange and beautiful feeling. One cannot see the future without the lens of the past here, the present is a middle mixture of old and new and is constantly reinforcing the feeling that the world is flat and that we are all one in the same.
The largest influence felt in Meknes is the French. I shall try to avoid the long history lesson and instead will refer you to Google for your searching pleasure on the Protectorate of the French from just after the turn of the 20th century until the 1950’s. Influence more specifically in Meknes can be felt in the language. Although I am here to learn Arabic my host family lovingly refers to the language of the country as three languages, Arabic, French, and Darija. Darij, which is the dialect of Arabic in Morocco, can best be described as Arabic with the sounds and vowels of French with a completely new set of verbs, greetings, and cultural expressions. The language shifts and alters from city to city and the common understandings of communication are constantly altered. As I have stressed in previous musings on the world that often in the Arab world there are no rules and this applies to the language as well. It’s a grand adventure beginning a conversation with anyone in this country. The French influence has made it so that everybody begins their conversation with me in French first and then I have to convince them I know Arabic and furthermore that I understand a little of the local dialect. In Meknes no one speaks English which is a beautiful thing for language learning but can lead to interesting encounters and difficult daily activities. When one prepares to go the train station and asks their host mother how to go and her response is half in French and half in Darija and you understand about 5 words total. You also know that she speaks more clearly than any of the storekeepers on the street whom I could ask for directions. This makes for a leap of faith in making your train to Marrakech on time which is leaving in about 15 minutes.
The French left behind more than the language, they left behind a fascinating world of old and new, Eastern and Western, independent and yet tied. In both Meknes and Marrakech the invisible backbone of history is thrown front and center. In each major city there is an old and new city which the French designed and built. They are beautiful examples of French landscape and city planning. Much like many of the most famous cities in the United States, such as DC, Chicago, and New Orleans, all of which were laid out by French architects. In Meknes the colorful fountains dot the intersections of the new city with French colonial boulevards with immaculately trimmed shrubs and trees. The city center laid out with promenades, which elegantly frame the cities governmental offices. All of which lays in stark contrast to the old city across the wadi (valley). The old cities walls jut from the rocky landscape, the mosques of the old city play a commanding role in shaping the skyline of the old city. At night their yellow lights and green paint emit power and authority over the citizens below. The elegant French gardens border the city and clash with the hodgepodge arrangement of the buildings. The aged facades lined with metal work that twirls and collides in the style of Art Nouveau, which made its way from Paris and collided with the geometric patterns and tiles of Morocco. The invisible backbone of history which guides the actions and the feelings of the city suddenly becomes crystallized, and once noticed cannot be unseen.
It terms of cultural mixing besides the physical remnants of the French and ever mixing and changing language, one cannot simply be astounded by the people here. Who neither find themselves to be part of Africa or Europe, who prefer to call themselves the Arab world. These are the people who wear in Jlabas, and Gandoras (Both traditional robes) at times and skinny jeans and t-shits at other times. These are the people who listen to the Ithan (call to prayer) with reverence and return to their Arabic rap music and rock. These are the people much like anyone else in the world who have defined news ways of existing, mixing, and understanding their place in the world. We as Americans stick out which is a given in a city where no one speaks English and is certainly not on the bus route for tourists. I could live here my entire life and will never understand the combinations of clothes that are both old and new, Western and Eastern, how the values of and ways of life in Europe have intermixed and changed what it means to act like a “Moroccan”. A place that plays a pivotal role in linking Europe and Africa in both politics and culture. These are the people who have felt colonization, revolution, monarchy, famine, feasts, war, and thousands of years of human cultural mixing. These are the people of the Maghrib, the people of the beautiful sunsets. The Arabs, the Amazigh tribes of Northern Africa, the French, the Spanish, the English, the Nabeteans, all of which culminate in the people walking the streets of Meknes today. The vast history culminating in the little things we see each and everyday here. Once again we continue to see the invisible structure that makes each of who we are become incredibly clear, if we only open our eyes wide enough to see the reality of the past crystalize in the modern form.
It has only been one week since being in Morocco and yet, as it is many times, one feels time takes on a different meaning when they are out of their comfort zones. That is then compounded by the fact that time is valued differently here as it is in most of the world. Things move at a different pace. In this week I have experienced many things and many things very different than my own life in the United States. Here is when I take a few minutes of your time and discuss some of the things that make life living abroad worth it. Also potentially a few more musings on the difference in life here and realities of what it means to be here and to live your life.
Here is a short list of things that have happened:
1. Shared a smoke break with friends on an 8 hour train ride across the Moroccan countryside for a weekend trip to Marrakech which involved elevator jazz music, a middle aged man sleeping in our compartment for a few hours, and going to the bathroom where there was just a hole cut in the bottom of the train
2. Was taken aside by a man in the Souk (market) and called Ali Baba because of my beard and then Moustafa Coucous in order to get me to buy a scarf while simultaneously trying to buy the two girls I was with for marriage, apparently they were worth about 50 camels
3. Witnessed a Darija rap battle at an outdoor theater with hundreds of Moroccans chanting along which then resulted in it a breakdancing competition
4. Sang songs in French, Arabic, Spanish and English with the manager of a riad which was built in the 1700’s in the old city of Marrakech till 4:00 in the morning
5. Had many a strange conversation in a mixture of Arabic, French, Darija, and English, with my host family attempting to understand where the train station was, what they did that day and whether or not the food I was eating was going to kill me
6. Eaten more food than I can even imagine while fasting all day for the holy month of Ramadan, which means eating Iftar at the call to prayer just after 7:30 PM and then Sahour at 2:00 AM and then fasting with no food or water during the day.
7. Getting birds thrown at you the middle of the square
8. Relaxing in the shadows of a mosque completed in 1157 at the beautiful rose gardens
9. Learning pedestrians never have the right of way. Ever.
10. Watching the Maghribi sunset over downtown Marrakech and remembering what it means be a very small part of a large picture at the edge of the world
I will finish my thoughts so as to not drag on into your time. You are a valued reader of these thoughts and although I claim to not seek approval I do appreciate the audience and therefore will not keep you longer than you need be here.
Humans are fascinating, complex, beautiful, and cruel things, capable of the greatest deeds and the worst atrocities. I think it is important when looking at the child begging for food in the square that each of us have our own incredibly complex and fragile life. That this little corner of the universe we all so desperately cling to because it is ours, is human nature. We do this and forget that each of these people are doing the same and although it is easy to see ourselves in the world, we may need to consider how the world sees us in it. Here a common phrase is Maktoob, which means it is written. I find it difficult to witness a world where we exist by those rules. We have created the rules of this world in many ways regardless of religious opinion. If we do not stop, look, and notice the world around us then we have gained nothing. If one cannot see the invisible backbone of time, common history, cultural differences, physical structures, spaces in society, and the realities of looking someone in the eye and seeing that their life is just as complex, hard, and confusing as yours than we have lost true sight of what there is. We have lost the ability to read, “what is written”.
Until next time… Cheers and Goodnight
