"Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy"

Well, that's a very nice sentiment (especially if you are the cowboy), but it doesn't do a darn thing for the sheep, does it?  Huh?  You see, today is a an extremely important day for those who practice the Islamic faith.  It is the first and foremost day of the Eid al-Adha religious holiday, which is where the sheep come into play, but we'll get back to them later...

Eid al-Adha commemorates the prophet Abraham's willingness to sacrifice his young, firstborn son Ishmael in obedience to a command from God and also marks the end of the Hajj (pilgrimage) to Mecca.  Abraham had a recurring dream, in which God was commanding him to offer his son as a sacrifice; Abraham decided to fulfill God's command and offer Ishmael for sacrifice.  Abraham could not bear to watch his son die so he covered his eyes by a blindfold. When he cut Ishmael's throat and removed the blindfold, he was astonished to see that Ishmael was unharmed and instead, he found a dead ram which was slaughtered. Abraham had passed the test by his willingness to carry out God's command.

Got that?  The good part is coming...

After the Eid prayer, Muslims sacrifice their best halal (think Kosher) domestic animals (sheep 'round these parts).  The meat from the sacrificed animal is divided into three parts. The family retains one third of the share; another third is given to relatives, friends and neighbors; and the other third is given to the poor and needy.

Wait for it...

This week in school, students and local staff educated me, and also told some interesting stories.  I should be store soon for some God-awful smells when the heads are cooked.  All of the children spoke very matter-of-factly about the throat-slitting, respectfully, not immaturely.  Speaking of which, when one of my boys told me of his helping out with the sacrifice, I asked him if he had had ever actually done the deed.  He got a very embarrassed look, then leaned in toward me, away from his classmates, to tell me quietly, in an appropriate manner, that he had to be physically mature to be allowed. You know, like having hair down there.  You can't make up these stories...

Throughout the week, students spoke of having already gotten their sheep.  I saw them in trucks when I went into the city.  Sheep everywhere.  I'm trying to hail a taxi to get home last nite, it's dark.  A van stops.  After my incident with the gypsy cab last week, you'd think I'd know better to get in.  Nah.  2 guys ask me where to, I reply to the American school  just straight down the road.  We're good.  Small commercial van.  Guy driving and passenger next to him.  I'm on bench seat behind them.  Behind me, small area size of tiny crib, where you'd put tools and such.  Or a sheep!  Not until he stirred did I notice the sheep behind the seat, 6 inches away!  Uh, let's move it, fellas!  I couldn't tell if the sheep was incapacitated in any way, but wasn't in the mood to find out.  I got out in one piece.  Better than the sheep fared this morning.

I walked down the hill to a place nearby where I thought I might to see the ritual performed, but no such luck.  Anyway, had no work today and won't on Monday, due to the interpretation of the lunar calendar per the powers-that-be.  No photos this week, thought I'd spare you the blood and gore seen throughout the city today.  Enjoy your entree at dinner tonight :)
 

"Felt Good On My Lips"

Tonight's title references Tim McGraw's recent hit.  In the song, Tim falls for a Latina babe.  For me, no such luck.  Instead, I'm talking about McDonalds and Starbucks, which I treated myself to earlier this evening.  When I came here I was bound and determined to not be one of those people who travel abroad and don't embrace the local culture, including the cuisine, especially since I am not a tourist, but actually live here.  And I have done so at every opportunity.  I love me some tajine and pastilla.  My new favorite condiment is harissa, (ha-REE-sa) a very spicy peppery paste.  However, I have needed some American comfort food, and one of the world's biggest malls is 5 km straight down the road.  Giddyap!  After my McNuggets, an iced caramel macchiato enjoyed sitting oceanside hit the spot.  I took out a school vehicle for this road trip.  No cab this time.  Last weekend I was getting impatient waiting for a gran taxi and got into what I knew was a gypsy cab.  Mistake.   Fortunately it only cost a couple of extra dirhams.  Then I took a petit taxi for the next stretch and was subjected to a lengthy stretch of Arab pop music.  Remember when it came out that the Arab terrorists at Gitmo were blasted with American pop music to break them?  I know now exactly what it must've been like...

Getting a late start on the blogging tonight as I watched our Mustangs lose a nailbiter to Casablanca American School in boy's varsity volleyball.  It was hot and sweaty in that multipurpose room.  Good thing I had me some bottled water.  Everyone knows to never drink anything else.  Here's a random pic of a bottle of Sidi Ali, the dominant brand.

That Arab writing.  Tough.  Speaking of languages, funny thing happened tonight at McDonalds.  I approached the counter knowing what I wanted and rattled off my order in flawless Spanish.  ?!  When I realized what I'd done, I then repeated my order, a little slower, in French.  I guess my brain knew I wasn't supposed to speak English, but went to default mode and used the foreign language it knew best.  You had to be there...

That supersized McNuggets value meal cost about $5USD.  Funny how the largest paper note in Morocco is only 200 dirhams (currently about $22-23USD).  Always have to carry around a big wad of dough.  Hey, how about some pics of the bills in Morocco?

Included are a (top) 10dh coin and a (bottom) 5dh coin.  There are a 2dh and 1dh coin also that resemble our quaters in size and shape...

On the subject of money, it's amusing sometimes to listen to people around here talking about flying off to this country or that.  Hey, if you got it, spend it, right?  Though, I have to remind myself that it's very cheap and easy to jet around Europe, given our location.  I got a roundtrip ticket direct to and from Milan over the Christmas holiday for $133USD.  Ka-ching!  I will be traveling about Italy (including to Rome, Venice and Florence) for a week.  On the itinerary includes The Last Supper, the Sistine Chapel, the Colosseum, and the Leaning Tower of Pisa.  Speaking of holidays, there is a huge one here next week.  Should be interesting.  Details next week...
 

"Life In A Northern Town"

Hey!  Tonight's episode of Jack is sponsored by UK one-hit wonders The Dream Factory who reached #7 in the US in 1985 with "Life In A Northern Town".  Remember that one?  Though, I'm listening to the 2008 remake by the country group Sugarland with Little Big Town and Jake Owen.  Better than the original, I say...

It's kind of remarkable what you can used to.  I don't have a television.  There is a website I learned of from a colleague that somehow allows you to stream any sporting event worth watching to your computer, just like that.  With the time difference here, that basically means watching the Sunday NFL 1 pm games, the 4 pm games if I'm really motivated.  Basically, I haven't watched any American TV for over 2 months, and don't much care.  I've done it a week at a time before while traveling, but nothing like this.  I read newspapers electronically of course.  I miss my personal free lending library (a/k/a Barnes & Noble).  The IMAX Theatre at the mall plays a movie Thursday in English, but I haven't gone yet...

I came to the realization earlier this week that I've pretty much tuned out the adhan, or, call to prayer that blares out across the city multiple times every day from the minarets of the mosques.  I can get around town with relative ease, be it by using the taxi system or driving, which is saying something because the way taxis work here is ridiculous, and the drivers are lunatics.  My New Jersey training with traffic circles is no good because there is a different way you have to navigate the roundabouts, or, rond-point, the French term you hear around here.  I say this because I've began taking private French lessons within the past month, and am loving it!  My tutor is great!  I look forward to it all week.  And I'm starting to respond somewhat instinctively to basic stuff when interacting/practicing with native staff.  I'm trying to learn Moroccan Arabic on my own by reading/listening through the computer.  Not easy...

Wild thing happened this week.  I help students in all subjects - I'm a Jack-of-all-trades, if I say so - and I do.  Anyway, a kid in one of my small-group pull-out classes had a social studies assignment which mentioned the Arab Spring.  The talk moved to the Palestinians and Israel.  When I told the kids that in my country that the PLO is considered a terrorist organization, you could have knocked them over with a feather - they were legitimately stunned.  The real fun began when I asked some question about Israel and the Palestinian quest for certain of their land.  I'll never forget how one student reacted.  This teen did not yell and scream, or use profanity.  He was never inappropriate.  But in an extremely agitated, raised voice he made a brief, very angry, yet reasoned, statement for the Palestinian cause.  Now I was the one in shock.  All depends on one's perspective, huh?  Speaking of which, roommate got off a good one this morning, when I said I had a generally cynical view of things, he replied that could walk in a room, see a beautiful bouquet of flowers, and ask who died.  Gotta admit, he got me with that one...

Finally, folks, a few random photos from home and school...

God, I hate this stuff.  It's a 1 liter carton of the UHT milk I've told you about previously.  I buy it by the six-pack off a shelf.  Actually, I've kind of gotten used to it, but I really need to head to the King's Market for the real stuff, price be damned...

This is a canister of the "propane-like" gas hooked up to your stove so you can cook your tagine (had it for lunch today), or couscous (after all, it is Friday).  Looks safe, right?  Umm...

This is a typical piece of furniture you'll see in living areas 'round these here parts.  Notice it has no back.  Does wonders for your posture, though...

This is from the multipurpose room at school.  Remember, this is an American school in Morocco, hence the flags of 2 nations and the pictures of their heads of state on either side of the stage.  Here are a couple of close-ups...

This is His Majesty King Mohamed VI...

 

and the other Muslim...

Thank you, folks!  I'll be performing again next Friday night at this time.  Bonne nuit!

"A Real Fine Place To Start"

We're going with Sara Evans for this week's post title.  I'm listening to my country playlist, it's couscous Friday and the weekend is here.  Laissez les bon temps rouler!  Well, maybe not for the students who got poor midterm reports the other day.  Thought I'd talk a bit more about George Washington Academy at the half-pole of this marking period - my kids, my colleagues and the nature of my job.
As you know, GWA is not your usual school, a K2-12 private not-for-profit entity recognized by both the USA and Morocco as an American school, with graduates receiving an American diploma.  The student body is a fascinating mix.  Close to 2/3 are Moroccan, and thus speak French and Arabic.  Most of the faculty is North American, and don't speak French or Arabic as a first language, yours truly included, though I am working on it.  The rule in school is: Speak English.  The reasons should be fairly obvious, except for maybe one - when the little lovelies are speaking Arabic, most teachers don't know what they are saying.  Curses, threats, telling their friend an answer on a test - who knows?  Thus, English only, thank you.
The students wear uniforms; the only thing really at all interesting in their appearance is that a few girls wear a hijab (he-jab).  It is a veil worn to cover the head and neck, in the interest of modesty.  My understanding is that there is no consensus among Muslims as to whether or not the Qur'an explicitly mandates that females must wear this particular garment.  The countries that comprise the Maghreb in NW Africa are considered to generally be a little more liberal than, say, Saudi Arabia or Egypt, and within Morocco, Casablanca is regarded even more as a cosmopolitan place.  You see older women dressed much more traditionally/conservatively, but not often are you looking at someone and seeing just a pair of eyes peering back at you.  And younger women dress just as, um, uh, casually as in any American big city.
My colleagues, with whom I not only work, but live, are a nice group of people.  I can tell you a little more about them by now.  Most are fairly young, a good number of them married.  No small number have taught in other countries in Africa, Asia and elsewhere.  There is a very large percentage of people who are active in their faith.  There are a couple of churches in Casa for Protestants to attend.  Jewish people are not given a hard time here.  There is one Catholic church (and so far as I know, only one other Catholic here besides myself).  Whatever the denomination, you better not proselytize - this is an Islamic state - that will get you promptly thrown out of the country.
I'm still growing into my job.  It's interesting.  It's an American high school, but special education law does not apply here.  I am a special education teacher, doing exactly the same kind of job I did at a NJ public high school, but here I am a learning specialist, I offer learning support.  I greatly enjoy the job, but it is a little bit surreal.  You see, I am not just a special education teacher; I am the special education teacher.  In the Upper School we have a counselor, a guidance counselor, a Student Services Support person and an English Language Learner teacher who's been here a couple years(don't know what I'd do without her!)  My principal and vice-principal are great to work for, but all of these people have one thing in common: special education is not their stock in trade.  People actually have looked to me for advice.  I have, like, real responsibility.  (gulp)  I'm confident in my abilities and in what my experience has done for me, but I have not yet gotten used to being the one-stop shopping center for your (real but not officially) special ed needs...
We will end this evening with a first photo from my new Nikon camera purchased last night at the Marjane at the mall.  I have to apologize that the photo simply cannot do justice to what the sunset looks like in person every night.  Baraka allahu feek.  May God bless you.

 

Either way, it's the Zac Brown Band...

I arrived in North Africa on August 3rd, and from then every single day was 80-90 degrees Fahrenheit.  Many were humid, some were overcast, but all were clear - until yesterday.  I woke up to a light rain.  What was this strange thing water falling from sky?  I was like the lifelong California resident who moves to the Midwest and is bewildered when he encounters snow for the first time.  I'd forgotten all about rain.  Where the (bleep) is my jacket and umbrella?!  A little more precipitation today, too.  Not to mention, cold.  Hope this doesn't start a trend...

Speaking of early morning excitement, yesterday I was shaving when right in the middle of things the power goes out.  Really?  Now?  Perfect timing.  The only surprise was that it was out only briefly.  I bring this up because living in Casa has brought certain challenges.  The infrastructure here is NOT what it is back in the States.  My (much more religious) roommate marvels at the colorful language I can command at these times.  I have, unfortunately, gotten used to power outages, gremlins messing the phone, Internet connections failing.  And around here is as good as it gets in this country!  Reminds me...It's funny how the locals look at themselves and their city.  They believe to a person that Moroccans are a friendly people - and they are.  They also do not hesitate to say that Casablanca is an ugly city.  It is the center of commerce in Morocco; all agree that Marrakesh and Fes have much more to offer in terms of culture.  Someday soon, hopefully...

While we are on the topic of how things work around here...I signed out the car to do some grocery shopping yesterday afternoon.  I'm cruising down Route d' Azemmour toward the mall, had that Renault Kangoo doing over 80 when I saw the police.  Uh-oh.  Did you forget that I'm talking kilometers here?  (snicker)  Driving home I'm enjoying a nice meal (I'm all about multi-tasking, you know.  And food.) when I thought about what I was taught to do if the police ever did pull me over.  Supposeably, the standard bribe is 200 dirhams.  I can afford it because payday was today.  Whee - couscous for everyone!  Not that I have a bank account to put that money in - I can't get one until I get my residency papers.  Uh, I ain't exactly holding my breath while I wait.  I'm told 4 months is a safe bet.  I hear that they're world-beaters compared to the postal service...

Took a walk to the beach around sunset Tuesday.  Tide was low and it was getting a lil' dark when I got down to near the water and I saw two guys coming in with a plastic bag.  I approached and asked in French as to what they had in the bag while I pantomimed a clam with my hand.  What else could it be?  Dude reaches in and pulls out a small octopus!  Cool!  Never saw one live and THIS close!  After they walked away I went toward the water and it wasn't smooth sailing along the sand; it was a little craggly.  I guess at low tide they walk out into the water and yank 'em out of their hiding spots with the long, thin, hooked metal poles they were carrying...

Oh yeah, about the title of this week's post...I couldn't pick between 2 song titles that I thought were both appropriate given this week's topics, but both were by the country band Zac Brown Band -  Toes (in the water) or Colder Weather (feat. Little Big Town).  G'night, y'all!

"Holes In The Floor Of Heaven"

Some neat little things happened this week...An Arabic teacher asked me to observe her class. She had some questions and heard the new guy was happy to come in and make suggestions regarding instructional methods and strategies and behavior management. For 50 minutes I heard absolutely nothing but Arabic, not a single word in English. It was a fun challenge to work solely on the basis of non-verbal behavior...Our open house night was yesterday. I had to submit notes ahead of time so that the translators had time to rework problematic words and phrases from English to French. In one class, a mother asked a lengthy question to the translator. The co-teacher and I looked at each other, neither of us having a clue what was being said, but I did know it wasn't good. Unfortunately, I was right...The daily planner-type things finally arrived this week for the students. You can write down your assignments, etc., plus there are some resources in the back, like the periodic table, measurement conversions - stuff like that. After they went out to the homerooms, someone noticed a HUGE problem - there was a 2 page map in the back with Western Sahara depicted as a separate country immediately to the south of Morocco. Um, that is ILLEGAL in this country. I'll spare you the details of this disputed territory - let's just say people were hurriedly blacking out or tearing out that page... Last Saturday I took off my shoes and took a tour of the Hassan II Mosque. It is the largest mosque in the country and well within the top 10 in the world. Its minaret (tower from which the adhan, or call to prayer, is made) is the world's tallest at just under 700 feet. It stands on a promontory looking out to the Atlantic Ocean. A total of 105,000 worshippers can gather for prayer at the mosque simultaneously, 25,000 inside the mosque (20,000 men on the floor and 5,000 woman separated from the men in two hanging mezzanines) and another 80,000 on the mosque's plaza. The inside is 100 feet wide, 200 feet long, and 200 feet high at the highest point. The interior can house Notre Dame or Saint Peter's. Built on reclaimed land, almost half of the surface of the mosque lies above sea water of the Atlantic. This was inspired by the verse of the Qur'an that states "the throne of Allah was built on water." Part of the floor is glass and offers a view down at the sea. This feature was a result of King Hassan II declaring: "I want to build this mosque on the water, because God's throne is on the water. Therefore, the faithful who go there to pray, to praise the Creator on firm soil, can contemplate God's sky and ocean." A spotlight shines in the direction of Mecca at night from the top of the minaret. The building also includes a number of other modern touches. It was built to withstand earthquakes and has heated floors, electric doors, and a sliding roof. The mosque cost $600M US. Locals will grumble about that much money being spent on the mosque and not programs for the people, but they will grumble quietly... Beneath the main floor is the ablution room, where 41 fountains allow for the ritual cleaning before worship. Beneath that is an enormous hammam, or public bath - they are hugely popular here; many people will go a couple of times per week to mellow out. Work on the mosque began in 1986, and lasted until 1993. During the height of construction, 1400 men worked during the day and another 1100 during the night. 10,000 artists and craftsmen participated in building the mosque. Every inch of the place seemingly is covered in some sort of hand-carved/painted, etc., piece of work. All of the granite, plaster, marble, wood and other materials used in the construction, were taken from around Morocco, with the exception of some Italian white granite columns and glass chandeliers. Six thousand traditional Moroccan artisans worked for five years to create the mosaics, stone and marble floors and columns, sculpted plaster moldings, and carved and painted wood ceilings. All in all, it's an extraordinary structure. Enjoy the photos and see you next week!

 

"Burning Down The House"

Yup, fun times in the Middle East this week.  Most of you I'm certain have heard about the murder of the U.S. Ambassador to Libya, in addition to breaches of other embassies and other shenanigans throughout the region.  I didn't pay much mind to what was happening.  Soon after I got here, HR gave us info, including something from the U.S. Dept. of State that suggested we (basically) register with the Consulate here in Casa.  Could come in handy down the line.  If something is happening, they'll shoot me an email.  Whatever.  But I did do it.  Went online.  Didn't take long.  Completely forgot about it soonafter.  Open my GMail Wednesday - here is an excerpt (highlights mine):

Media sources have reported protests in the region. Due to the possibility of further protests, the Consulate is closed to the public this afternoon.

The Consulate urges U.S. citizens to avoid large gatherings and non-essential travel in and around the city center this afternoon and to be mindful of potential protest activity in this area in the near future.  Even demonstrations or events intended to be peaceful can turn confrontational and possibly escalate into violence.  U.S. citizens in Morocco are urged to monitor local news reports and to plan their activities accordingly.

The potential for terrorist violence against U.S. interests and citizens remains elevated in Morocco. It is important for U.S. citizens to be keenly aware of their surroundings and adhere to prudent security practices such as avoiding predictable travel patterns and maintaining a low profile.  Establishments that are readily identifiable with the United States or other Western countries are potential targets for attacks.  These may include facilities where U.S. citizens and other foreigners congregate, including clubs, restaurants, places of worship, schools, hotels, movie theaters and other public areas. 

The Consulate reminds U.S. citizens to review their personal security plans and remain alert to their surroundings at all times in Morocco.

 

Lovely.  Actually, there really wasn't much to worry about.  Arab Spring barely sprung here, or elsewhere in The Maghreb (roughly, NW Africa).  I wasn't afraid (much).

 

A local staff at the school sent me to his barber last Saturday for my first Moroccan haircut.  He said it might be a little more expensive but worth it.  I took a cab out there, found the place and walked inside.  3 guys, all young.  Hmmm.  I've gone to o-l-d school Italian barbers all my life.  While waiting I watch sports on the TV.  Soccer.  I'm shocked.  Never see that here.  As usual I have no clue what is being said.  I bring this up because it affects me on a DAILY basis.  Usually, I wind up getting by.  Anyway, I sit in the barber chair, and the barber says something I can't understand (yeah, yeah).  I realize he is asking how I want my hair cut.  Uh-oh.  I hadn't thought of this.  I don't know what to say.  I make a couple of simple gestures and pray.

Best.  Barber.  Ever.  Especially for a young guy, he was a wizard with his implements.  Did all the little extras.  Unbelievable.  So, I ask him (in French, by the way) "How much?"  He replies "50" (dirhams).  He said the number in English.  I figure I must've misunderstood.  Can't be 50 dirhams.  I asked again and he answered again the same.  That's less than $6US!  I gave him what I'll bet was the biggest tip off his young career (particularly because the tipping culture really sucks here for those in service industries.  That plus roundtrip cab fare was easily under 15 bucks total.  Nice.  I'm tired.  Tssbeh aala kheir.