Visiting the BNRM in Rabat

ESI third year students who specialize in « libraries » were treated to a visit at the Bibliotheque Nationale du Royaume du Maroc on Friday of the week. The beautiful new building was inaugrated in October, 2008 and hosted an international conference in November of the year.




Students toured the rest of the facilities, and enjoyed seeing the periodical room (pictured here) and the audio-visual room. Funding for the library building came from donors the world over, and sound equipment in the ampitheater and the AV room came from Japan. France and Germany also were generous donors.

Tours of the AV room were given by a former ESI student, helping students see real-world applications for the studies they were currently doing.

The gazelle

Since I've been in Morocco, I keep running into references to gazelles. There are insurance agencies with the word in the name, women have the term as part of their user names online, and there's even gazelle-logo'd brand of chocolate -- a gift I received from Hanan when I went to Casablanca last month.

My neighbor who is a rare books cataloger explained that not only is the gazelle a sacred animal in Islam, but it also is the preferred hide used in Muslim medieval book-making. There are some Korans where each page is gazelle skin from the chest of a different animal -- indeed, these are the most expensive and the most precious of these rare and special books.

Moroccans are very generous, and since I've been here, I've received a lot of gifts besides the chocolate. I've received a beautiful two-volume commented Koran translated into French from a student, I've received trinkets and even socks from Fatima, and Hanan bought me these little tagines where I put spices along with a a main de Fatma from the medina.

I'm very lucky to be surrounded by such generous and warm people, and I'm also glad to have finally found the explanation to the question of the Moroccan gazelle. I'll be visiting the BNRM with my students at the end of next week, and am really looking forward to seeing some of these rare books in the national library\s collection for myself.

Aïd moubarak and the Tangers casting call

To celebrate the Feast of the Sacrifice, I went to Tangers. I made sure to be on the train (5 hour trip) on the morning of the feast to avoid certain elements of the festivities.

Apparently everyone LOVES witnessing the slaughter. In the city, it either takes place on the roof or in the basement, or perhaps in a vacant lot, as shown below. Women come of the kitchen, and children gather around for the spectacle.

I arrived in Tangers around 1 pm, to see roving bands of men with bloody white aprons and big knives roaming the streets. They go door to door offering their services. Almost no cars were on the street, making the whole thing even more surreal, like a cross between a Sweeney Todd casting call and a new kind of Halloween tradition that has not been embraced in America.

My plan to avoid most of the killing worked well (after all, I saw Silence of the Lambs, I know I don't want to hear this), but I didn't anticipate how much blood and gore (and the lingering odor of barnyard) would be around into the next day. There was also the troubling question of what to do with unwanted sheep parts, especially the head.

In short, I'm glad to have participated in the limited fashion that I did. But, I admit that as a vegetarian, I'm a little more predisposed to participate in the Feast of the Carrot or the Sacrifice of the String Bean...

Tidying up for the holidays

It's Sunday, and I continue to be in awe of Nadia. My friend's friend's cousin is back, and has succeeded in cleaning all of the blankets (in the tub, stomping on them as necessary), the rugs (in the kitchen using a big tub), and the floors all without telling me that the butagaz was out and that she didn't have access to warm water.

Getting the house cleaned up before the holidays (and holiday visitors) seems like a great idea. The high Muslim holiday is upon us in two days, and I can hear the various sheep of my neighbors in the courtyard behind my apartment. After Tuesday, there will be no more baaa's.

I've managed to put a strand of lights around a fir tree-shaped clock and have put presents around it for now. It's getting festive, indeed.

Nadia won't be back next week, but will come the following Sunday to help clean and to cook a little. I hope my concierge and his wife are a little nicer to her next time -- they really gave her the run-around this morning.

The National Documentation Center in Morocco

Yesterday, I had the good fortune to visit the fourth (and final!) OCLC member library in Morocco: The Centre National de Documentation (le CND) in Rabat.

The CND is a sister institution to the library school where I teach. It is the documentation center of the country, meaning that, among other things, it collects and makes accessible all grey literature generated in the diffrernt Moroccan ministries.

A number of additional scanning projects are underway. Some pretty high-tech equipment is being used to scan, throughout the CND, thousands of documents per day.

Like the library school (ESI), the CND is attached to the Haut-Commissariat au Plan. It also has a printing facility. One of the print-shop employees posed with a relic of a printing machine --many newer materials are available in the facilities to meet their printing needs.

They also had a server room filled with machines. Fitting with their "Zéro papier" goal, much is going online, and will be stored in-house.

Mr. Solbi was kind enough to show me around, and I am very grateful to him for the comprehensive visit and the good conversation at lunch. Mr. Solbi is a very thoughtful and intelligent man -- he's done a very impressive job at the CND. Single-handedly, he's changing the information landscape in Morocco, and I'm honored to have made his acquaintance.

Humidity in Morocco

The French have a trick to keep their baguettes from going stale overnight -- they wrap them in a dishcloth and leave them on the counter. If left out unwrapped bread goes hard; if kept in a plastic bag or in the fridge it goes chewy. The bread-keeps in some American kitchens serve a similar function.

Last night was a cold and rainy night. I wrapped my baguette after dinner, and left it in a bag so that the non-paying (read: crawling) residents, whom I have not seen in weeks, aren't tempted to come back for a late night snack. I hung the bag on a doorknob so that it was open, allowing air to circulate to keep the bread fresh.

This morning, I got the baguette out for breakfast. First of all, the towel was damp, as if it had just come out of the spin cycle of the washing machine. The bread had acted as a giant sponge, soaking in the humidity of the air, and was completely soggy -- as if it had been in standing water. I guess it just doesn't get humid like this in France, where the technique was invented.

On Saturday morning, in the cold of the gym, I noticed that I was steaming during my workout. It felt like being in a cave on a summer hiking trip. While making soup later on, I could see my breath in my kitchen.

And although it's not related to the humidity per se, I've noticed that my students don't take off their coats in class. I'm the only one NOT wearing a coat. As a child, I wasn't allowed to wear one indoors. Time to remember that I'm not in France or in the United States. Next step: figure out how the Moroccans keep their bread from going bad overnight when it rains.

Nadia and my new Sunday routine

Today (Sunday) was the first day that Nadia came to help me clean house. Nadia is a lovely young woman, the cousin of a friend of a friend. Nadia works all week and has part time work on Saturday. Sunday is her day off, and it was the only time that she could find free time in her regular schedule to start coming to my apartment to clean. I’d hoped that she could stay for an hour or two (the amount of time that 200 Dh could buy me), and help with the kitchen and bathroom/WC. She ended up staying for four hours, refusing things like drinks and pain au chocolat, and displaying a pretty amazing work ethic. She also didn't ask for more money, and identified work (like cleaning rugs) that she wants to do next time.

Today, not only did she scour the rooms where I really needed help, she also cleaned the huge salon marocain, the TV room, and the dining room. All on her "day off"!

I’m lucky as well, because Nadia is also a very good cook and she’s offered to make fried Moroccan pastries and even chicken for me next time. Ok, the chicken’s not for me (I’m vegetarian), but the pastries quite frankly don’t stand a chance!

I will mention that Nadia came today with another cousin who acted as our interpreter. Next week, though, we’re on our own. Nadia now represents just one more reason I need to stick with my Derija classes. It’s nice to have such good excuses to try learning Moroccan Arabic.

After about 30 hours and the equivalent of $46, I've just returned from a lovely trip to the town of Ifrane in the Middle Atlas Mountains of Morocco. While there, I visited Jane (another Fulbrighter) who is teaching at Al Akhawayn University in Ifrane (AUI) .

I also, of course, visited the university library (the third of the four OCLC member libraries in Morocco on my itinerary).

The trip began Tuesday morning in the rain, and by the time the CTM bus made it into the mountains that afternoon, there was a full-fledged snow storm all around us. The bus was safe (and by this time, warm, although there had been no heat for the first two hours of the journey).

Jane was happy to show me around last evening, and then this morning, I met with the library's director. Mr. Lotfi and I had such a riveting conversation that I never actually got to visit the staff areas or take photos of the building.

I tell myself that those will be among my goals for my NEXT visit to AUI...

Coffee and culture in Rabat

The Institute Français de Rabat (IFR) is a great resource in downtown Rabat, and is the local equivalent of the Alliance Française we seem to have in big cities in the United States. Not only do they have a series of cultural offerings such as expositions and films, but they also have a lending library and media center.

I checked out a book a few weeks ago, and thought that I was returning it one week late. Whatever the fee would have been, I assumed that it was less than taking a taxi there and back just to return the book.

The book was actually 2 weeks overdue. The fine? I can’t check out another book for the next two weeks!

Luckily, I my excuse to return the book doubled as a reason to have coffee with a friend that I met on the train a few weeks prior (a teacher by trade, who is willing to exchange French lessons for English lessons) so the whole trip wasn’t a complete disappointment. Mostly, Jallall and I sat and talked and drank coffee at their café instead of working, which was fine too. Jallal wanted me to take this photo so that I could include him in my blog, and I’m more than happy to oblige.

And today, Amina and I met at the other IFR location for coffee and a film: Des poupées et des anges. It’s nice to have cultural offerings in French in the heart of Rabat, but it’s especially nice to meet for coffee and conversation with Moroccan friends around the experience, too.

Digital library initiatives

The Réseau francophone des bibliothèques numériques nationales (RFBNN) (officially unveiled in late October) and Europeana (online since Thursday) are both drawing a lot of attention in these parts. Or, at least by librarians with the same interests as me.

Europeana is drawing criticism (see blog post from the 19^th) for its content and navigability. As much as I wish I could comment on it myself, I continue to be among those who are shut out. The Web site for Europeana states that it will be back online in mid-December, although it seems that some folks in the United States were able to get on since the announcement.

I did have the chance to look through the RFBNN project – this project is mostly headed up by the Bibliothèque et Archives Nationales de Québec (where I visited this past August for the conference of the Association internationale francophone des bibliothécaires et documentalistes (AIFBD) and I must say, they do impressive work. The RFBNN project seems to be easy enough to use, but some Francophone countries like Morocco don’t have much of any content. Apparently the BnF is going to try digitizing more, but in the mean time, it’s all just a little anticlimactic.

It’s great that so many new initiatives are out there, especially with the news that was released about the Google Books projects and their new library policy. Libraries are wise to take digitization seriously. However, it’s disappointing when projects are only at best half-finished or in such a beta format that they’re unusable at their time of release. A few years back, I learned in Web design class not to post a Web page if there was no content for it (an “under construction” banner wasn’t good enough) – the idea being that users don’t like to be turned away for any reason. I would think that the same is true of a project as huge as a digital library. I for one, at any rate, am very disappointed.

The importance of good neighbors

Today I spent about three hours with my neighbor talking about MARC21 (library data mark-up language) and my dissertation ideas. My neighbor works as a cataloger of rare manuscripts at the Moroccan national library (the BNRM) and is a lovely person. She came and talked to my students yesterday on her day off about their experiences with UNIMARC, so when she asked me to stop by today and start teaching her MARC21, it was easy to agree.

At one point, she actually offered to pay me. I politely refused. After all, this is between librarians! She pointed out that, more than that, this is between neighbors.

When Moroccans whom I've just met offer to bargain on my behalf, they fib and say that we are neighbors and have known each other for a long time. It lends credibility to the transaction. Of course, being family is worth more than being neighbors. My landlady likes to tell people that I'm married to her brother. She actually does have a brother, but of course, I'm not married.

Being a member of a professional group isn't how people self-identify here -- the clan is based on its members and its physical location. I'm not used to identifying with a physical location -- I've moved at least once a year (save one year) for the past 17 years. No, I don't identify with location or even with family, per se.

American that I am, I identify with the traits of the individual -- profession (what I've made of myself) and perhaps a certain set of ideals. I come from a "do" culture -- "What do you do?" and in Morocco, the people are part of a "be" culture -- "Where are you from? Are you married?" One of the speakers at the Fulbright orientation spoke brilliantly about the DOers and the BEers; I'm lucky he put me on guard to this, or the subtleties might have escaped me.

I must admit, this is the first place I've lived where I've known and eaten with inhabitants from THREE apartments in my building. There are benefits to having good neighbors, and I've got a box full of cookies that she insisted I take home to prove it.

The Saudi library in Casablanca

On Saturday, I went to Casablanca to visit the Bibliothèque de la Fondation du Roi Abdul Aziz, the Saudi king. This research library specializes in humanities and social sciences pertaining to Muslim Arab peoples of the Maghreb countries. Hanan had orchestrated the visit since neither of us had visited the library, but both had heard such good things about their work and were interested in seeing their operation firsthand.

The library itself is a work of art, having recently been expanded, and the staff are both serious and motivated. I remarked a willingness to innovate that is not always present in libraries, and the fruits of their work were evident in the number of dedicated users. Hanan and I arrived 20 minutes after the library opened, and we still had to wait ten minutes, nearly missing our appointment, because of the mob of users waiting to gain entrance.

Our guide was invovled in Tech. Services -- not a librarian by training, he had gone to workshops in France and Egypt and was in charge of all things Dewey-related. The library is an OCLC member library (one of only 4 in Morocco); they maintain their own tri-lingual thesaurus of descriptors, apply an adapted (read: expanded) DDC in their cataloging, and are currently using Horizon as the ILS since Horizon is Arab character-friendly and has an office in Egypt.

I have not yet had a chance to tour operations at the national library in Morocco, but from what I've seen and heard, the Saudi library is in many ways carrying out some of the roles typically associated with a national institution. Innovation, access, bibliography, mission, focus, and professionalism are all abundantly evident in their work. I salute the librarians at the Saudi library. They should be very pleased with their work and with the service they are providing.

Conference: the Bibliothèque nationale du Royaume du Maroc

On Thursday and Friday, November 13 and 14, 2008, the Moroccan national library (the Bibliothèque nationale du Royaume du Maroc or BNRM) sponsorsed a colloquium on national libraries entitled

« Les bibliothèques nationales : enjeux et perspectives »

Because the building was recently inaugerated by His Majesty the King of Morocco on October 15, 2008, it was exciting that so many librarians from foreign countries came to participate and to see the new facilities.

Third year students in the "Librarian" option at the Ecole des Sciences de l'Information take a class with me that covers national libraries. We were fortunate to have been invited to attend the second day of the conference. Yet again, students came to the conference instead of going home to their families, even though we'd already had class that week on Monday as usual. Four students from the 2nd year also snuck in (with permission from yours truly). It was a great experience for all concerned, and one that is absolutely unique. One of the third-year ESI students even asked a question of one of the presenters during the question-and-answer session (and the question was a good one!)

Derija, or Moroccan Arabic: مرحب

My Arabic course at CCCL meets twice a week (Wednesday and Friday) for 1.5 hours. I've been trying for about a month to learn to both speak and read. It's not easy, and I genuinely wish that I had a lot more time to spend learning the language.

Moroccan Arabic is different from Classical Arabic in the way that Spanish is different from (a derivative of) Latin. When university (or high school, etc.) classes are taught in Arabic in Morocco, they are taught in Classical Arabic. Moroccans can understand Egyptians speaking Egyptian Arabic, for example, but communication isn't easy.

Standard (spoken) Moroccan Arabic is unique, and I have a suspicion that some of the differences have to do with the French Protectorate that lasted until 1956. The Classical Arabic that I learned at Rutgers uses an alphabet with /TH/ and /th/ sounds. The Moroccan alphabet does not have these letters, and coincidently, the French pronunciation system does not produce them either.

All of this leads to the problem of explaining to Moroccans my first name, since neither language that Moroccans know has prepared them for pronouncing it. « Heather » has the /th/ in the middle and the /r/ at the end that poses problems for the French, but that is also unpronounceable in Moroccan Arabic, as it turns out. I've decided, for the second time while in Morocco, to introduce myself as Léa (my middle name). It just leaves more time for having more interesting exchanges, either in very limited Arabic, or in French.

بسلامَ (Goodbye)

Conquering a head-cold

With the current rainy and cold weather, I managed to catch a bit of a head cold the other day. I've heard Fulbrighters from cold-weather areas state that they'd never been as cold as they had during winters in Morocco. It's as cold outside as it is inside, often, because the houses have to be vented for the Butagaz tanks (to avoid explosions) and because there is no indoor heating system. I understand parts of California are similar, but don't think that it gets quite as humid and cold there....

The things I've learned from this experience are the following:

The pharmacies are like the ones in Europe. All one has to do is go in, and if the symptoms are obvious, the pharmacist will give something to the client immediately. The pharmacist I saw was French. She gave me a powder to take three times a day. I have no idea what it is; she only told me that it's NOT and antibiotic. It's working like a charm.

Warm liquids help. I've been drinking lots of tea, and if there's water from my electric kettle left over, I use it to wash dishes instead of only using cold water from the tap. I've also been drinking juice and making soup. A friend taught me to tie a scarf around my head and ears too. That and neck scarves are helping immensely with keeping me warm.

Space heaters are essential. The heater that I found in the closet of my apartment is doing wonders for staving off the cold in my office. I've got it on one of the small wooden tables that had been in the living room (see photo below). It's right next to my desk and computer so that now my hands are warm enough to type again! It's a huge improvement. Huge.

Election history

Last night, the American Embassy hosted the "Nuit des élections" at the TGI Friday's restaurant opposite the Lycée Descartes. I arrived to the restaurant early with a fellow Fulbrighter to have dinner before the event, but discovered that the Embassy had rented the entire restaurant for the entire evening. Police were everywhere, and security for entry was tight.


Guests who arrived closer to the appointed time received buttons. Apparently, the Embassy wanted to be impartial, and handed out buttons at random. See photo for Fulbrighters who had voted for the same candidate, but who received different buttons.

The election has been big news recently here. The Palin prank call was picked up by French network news and televised here. Below is the YouTube version that someone digg'd a few days back (how I found out about it), and that aired on Moroccan TV less than 24 hours later.

This morning felt like the Christmases of my childhood, almost, as I woke up in a chilly apartment and was immediately anxious to run and see ... the results. I'd actually left my computer by my bed so that I wouldn't have to go too far.

Indeed, this is the first time in the past eight years that I've been "proud" in the truest sense of the word to be American. It's difficult to be abroad when one disagrees vehemently with the politics at home. In summer 2001, friends in France told me that GW was unable to explain to French reporters the meaning of Memorial Day during a late-May European tour. That was just a very mild beginning, of course, to my discomfort with the regime that has been in power for the past 8 years.

But today, I got to wake up and hope for change along with the rest of America, and indeed, the world. I'm proud that my country was able to see past race and to elect the better candidate.

And I'm prouder than ever to be an American.

« Summer back » and autumn in Morocco

Yesterday night, folks in most of the United States changed their clocks, setting them back one hour to return to Normal Time. We here in Morocco had no such inconvenience. Perhaps your assumption is that Morocco doesn't participate in Daylight Savings. Well, actually it does, it's just that Morocco *already* "fell back" ... in September. We've been at GMT for two full months now, in fact.

Because in Ramadan it's necessary to wait until sundown to eat, and since Ramadan began in September, the Moroccans decided to move their clocks to Normal Time several months early, thereby making the sun set "earlier". F-tour (or "Iftar" -- breakfast) during Ramadan began at 6:45 p.m. instead of 7:45 p.m. under this plan. Apparently the official decision to change the time was made at the last minute, leaving airlines and other time-dependent international operations scrambling to update schedules.

The lack of time change doesn't mean, though, that autumn isn't in the air. It's been cold and rainy for days now, with no end in sight. Some of the major highways in the country have been closed because of flooding. The BBC Rabat weather site says that the average (a.m.) relative humidity in November is 89% ... which makes for a soggy chill that cuts right through a person. Since there's no heat in the houses, it's especially challenging to stay warm at night. It's also a long wait for one's clothes to dry on the line.

And of course, another sign of autumn is the switch to cold-weather clothes. Yesterday I packed up all the warm-weather clothes I'd brought and stored them away for next spring. I then went out and bought a couple of sweaters, partly to celebrate the change in seasons, and partly because I don't have a space heater yet. I guess that'll be my next big purchase!

Moroccan cafés

This has been the week of cafés for me. For the first time since I've been here, I ventured out into the world of cafés, both times with foreign women, to sample the delicious strong coffee and marzipan cookies. It seems to be acknowledged in Moroccan society that the cafés are the domain of men, and that women "rule the roost" at home, but as a foreigner in the capital city, I'm able to do cross some boundaries that local women aren't.

That's not to say that in big international cities like Rabat, it's impossible to find women in cafés. That's absolutely not true. If the woman is Moroccan, she's generally with a man, and they're seated indoors. Foreign women are afforded, from what I can tell, many of the same luxuries as the men of Morocco, and are able to go to cafés by themselves. Outside of Rabat, though, I don't know that folks would be quite as indulgent with a Western woman's transgression of Moroccan social norms.

Until this point, I haven’t ventured into a café by myself, but other than the occasional trip to Panera to break the monotony, I wouldn’t be likely to go to a café alone in the U.S. either. I’m thrilled, however, that this week I had the chance to go out for coffee twice, and am pleased to report that both times it was divine. Good coffee, good food, and good conversation -- what more can one want?

My office at ESI

My office at the Ecole des Sciences de l'Information (ESI) is quite a change from the office I had last year when I was TA. This office was actually meant for two professors, but somehow I've managed to get it all to myself. There's a desktop computer, a laser printer (to myself!), several shelves that lock for all my books and files, and my own photo of the King to keep me company during my office hours.

The four boxes of materials I sent over via the Embassy diplomatic pouch arrived in Morocco before I did, although they were a little worse for wear. I managed to pick them up at MACECE in a taxi and transport them to ESI before the start of classes.

Some of the books I brought are pictured below (at least one's already been loaned out to a colleague, actually). The folks at OCLC were kind enough to let me have a set of Dewey 22, but I had to promise to leave it in Morocco. One less thing to carry back? An offer I couldn't refuse....

The meaning of exchange

Fulbrights are meant to facilitate exchange between Americans and folks from other cultures. I get to bring bits of Morocco to the United States (or, pictured here, to SCILS at the LIS tea from atop my camel in Tangiers!), and I, just by virtue of being myself, am bringing "American-ness" to Morocco and to the library school here.

Sometimes these elements of exchange work seamlessly. Everyone loves a camel. Moroccans call them something like "Sand Schooners" (yes, I just coined that expression on the spot) and consider them to be almost magical (again, my words) since they can survive under the harsh conditions of the desert. Myself, I don't think I laughed as hard that whole weekend as the 5 minutes I was on the camel, and lots of folks in the States have commented to me in emails, on this blog, and especially on Facebook about the photo. This is a good exchange -- we all like camels. It's nice to have something in common.

I'm currently working through some of the more difficult aspects of exchange as well: the nuts and bolts of lecturing to Moroccan students. My students have a reflex to memorize the notes they take during hours of lectures and to recite them back rotely at the exam. There's no textbook. I can assign outside readings, but it's difficult/impossible to test throughout the year. It's also impossible to know in advance how many times our class will meet, since we don't make up classes missed for religious holidays, and holidays are established the night before the event.

This is one part of the exchange that's less easy for me to navigate. I talked about new internet technologies (Web 2.0) using slides that had worked just fine in France. I gave a similar lecture in March 2007 (a year and a half ago) at the French national library school (ENSSIB). In France, the lecture took 1 hour. Here, we've already spent 4 hours on it, we're still not finished, and apparently there wasn't enough text on my slides to suit some students. I can't blame them for being conditioned to a certain kind of system, but I must say that this is making me think an awful lot about the role of the teacher in higher education.

This is only the first week where I've done a significant amount of lecturing, so it'll come. We'll adapt to each other, certainly. That or I'll bring a camel to school.

After hours « ateliers » for ESI students

On Wednesday of this past week, the folks at the University of Michigan's School of Information hosted the John Seely Brown Symposium. Brewster Kahle was the keynote speaker, and his presentation along with the panel presentation that followed were made available on the web via simultaneous webcast. This open approach to diffusing knowledge seemed on par with a lot of the philosophies represented in the symposium.

Since the topics were very close to ones that we were covering in Technologies de l'Information, I suggested to students that we get a room and watch together. Especially since the presentations were in English.

There was some trouble initially negotiating a room, but the students approached the administration at the 11th hour, and Mme Zhiri kindly found a room with an internet connection for us to use from 18:30 to 21:30 (GMT-Casablanca). I brought my laptop, and once we got speakers, everything worked like a dream.

What I really couldn't believe was that roughly 30 students came -- a full third of the class of second years, along with at least one from the third year who'd seen my message on Facebook. These are folks who spend roughly 8 hours per day all week in lectures, and they showed up in the middle of their evening for more, for no credit, and IN ENGLISH.

I continue to be blown away by the students here. Truly. The presentation was great; I don't know how much they understood, but I think it was a good experience overall for all involved. Thanks again to the folks at Michigan for giving us permission to watch and follow along from Africa!

Blogs in class

Today we talked about blogs in Technologies de l'information. I took a photo of the class at the beginning of the hour, and posted these photos, as well as a first draft of this post, at the end of class. Everyone seemed to agree that it's an easy process, and about eight students came up after class and asked for me to transfer the photos to their USB keys.

The co-instructor has agreed that students can develop a blog as their end-of-semester assignment, so now's about the time that students exploring this option need to get underway. I've been basing my approach to introducing blogs on a book by Will Richardson called "Blogs, wikis, podcases, and other powerful web tools for classrooms."

Of camels and contraband

This past weekend, I took a trip to Tangiers. Not only did I get to ride on a camel on bluffs overlooking the Atlantic Ocean (with the requisite goofy tourist-grin on my face), I also got to visit the new port of Tangiers, Tanger-Med that is on the Mediterranean Sea. Tangiers actually is on the point that separates the Atlantic from the Mediterranean, so it was easy to drive from views of one to the other in a matter of minutes.

The photo of me and the two ladies is taken with the currently working Tangers-Med container port in the background. It's brand new and just opened in recent weeks.

Although I keep hearing that the low prices are due to the fact that the sales are of contraband, I got a load of good deals while shopping in Tétouan. Not the least of my shopping feats included the purchase of a 5 lb. ball of Edam cheese, in its red wax wrapper, for $15 (125 dh) . FIVE POUNDS of cheese! I’m going to be eating that same ball of cheese next February at this rate. The photo of the street scene (below) was taken near the souk on the way to Tétouan.

The language of the colonizer

Before going to Morocco, everyone assured me that Moroccans speak French -- it is a "francophone" country. Since I've been here, I've discovered that most do, but depending on class and background, some really fall short of the mark.

Example: yesterday I went to the MegaMall to buy work clothes and a winter coat. After trying on about 10 shirts, I gave the clothes back to the young salesgirl in piles -- ones I wanted, ones I didn't want, and ones that I either did or didn't want, depending on the other sizes that they had (this last group I wanted to verify myself).

She promptly wadded the clothes I wanted on top of a display and wandered off. By the time I was ready to check out, she'd put away the brown shirt I wanted. I asked her to get the brown shirt (the "chemise marron") and she went and got a grey dress that hadn't fit.

I run into this a lot -- the French that people speak really isn't passable, but pretending to speak French is the only way for a lot of people to get ahead.

Most folks grin from ear to ear when I tell them that I'm learning Arabic. I guess they've just, as a people, spent so much time trying to learn the language of another people/culture that the idea of someone being interested in their own langauge is somewhat revolutionary.

Dreams of MARC?

The course called National, University, and Special Libraries met today, for the second time, at 8:30. It's a great bunch of students -- 16 total, who are in their third years. Until last year, all of the courses they took were in a group, with their 65 other classmates. Now, as third years, they are able to declare which speciality they'd like to pursue: they will either specialize to become librarians who will work in libraries or to become documentalists who will work in archives. There are more jobs for documentalists in corporate offices. Fewer jobs in libraries (fewer libraries) means fewer (but more highly-motivated) students self-selecting for the libraries option.

I'd gotten in touch with the woman teaching the "partner" course for the librarian option: School and Public Libraries. It turns out, we're on the same page in a lot of respects, so today was full speed ahead with introductory content in my class.

The students are very engaged and were asking a ton of questions. I know they all took Cataloging in their first and second years, so to answer one question, I brought up an element that we code in the fixed field of MARC records that are loaded into OCLC. The conversation then turned.

Then a few minutes later, I got another question: "Can we please talk about MARC records in this class?" "I'm sorry, WHAT?" "We only covered manual cataloging in our Cataloging course -- can we talk about MARC here, since you know so much about it?" Heads nodding throughout the room. "We know MARC is great for sharing information between libraries, but we don't know how it works."

I've been teaching MARC for at least 6 years. I've talked about teaching catalgoing at international conferences. The reaction is always the same, across the board: "Ugh." Enthousiam about the mark-up language for bibliographic materials devised by the Library of Congress in the 1960s (and a very un-sexy language, at that) among 3rd year students in Morocco is still blowing me away. "Yes, I'll be happy to talk about MARC -- let's plan to do it when we talk about cooperation and university libraries, since that's a context that's natural for me and we have some time in the syllabus."

As I say, I'm still recovering.

Fridays are for couscous

The knocking began around 6:10 pm today. I was busy trying to get my class's wiki in order, and since I wasn't expecting anyone, decided not to answer the door. When the second round of knocking began 15 minutes later, I knew it wasn't just someone trying to sell me something.

My concierge was there, motioning me to lock my door and follow her upstairs. She handed me a lovely plate of couscous and admonished me for not answering the door the first time. The plate had cooled off in the interim.

Today is Friday, the day of the week most sacred to Muslims -- Friday prayers at noon time are similar to the Sunday services that I knew growing up Catholic. Friday is also the traditional day to eat and share couscous. I don't have the heart to tell her that I'm vegetarian and that this otherwise very tempting meal is going to be wasted on me because of the few slivers of meat that were added to flavor the vegetables.

At least I know that she likes chocolate. Guess I'll be out buying chocolate tomorrow and furtively ditching the couscous in the dumpster on the next block over. At least a few of Agdal's many feline residents might be able to make a meal of it.

Is next to godliness

The panoply of cleaning products in the country has had my attention since my arrival. Aicha's kitchen boasts a wide variety of soaps, sprays, and solutions to keep the area spic and span.

One of my favorite processes at the moment is dish washing. The dish soap is quite viscous, almost slippery to the touch, and comes in a tub. Aicha cuts it with a little water before using it, and takes advantage of fishing nets instead of sponges or wash clothes to wash things.

A devotee of the scrubby-sponge for quite a while, I can't bring myself to trade in my Scotch brand green sponge for the brand new netting that came with my apartment (pictured below on my washing machine, with new rags just purchased at Marjane and with more dish soap). The slick soap and the netting just aren't a good match for me, as plates and things tend to slip from my hands while being rinsed.

A final note, I only have cold (i.e. not hot) water in the kitchen faucet. The warm summer days of late September are giving over to chillier October ones, especially the evenings, and the temperature of the water coming out of the faucet is cooling off accordingly. My clothes washer has a built-in heater that runs on electricity, so I'll be able to continue to do laundry "normally." But as it gets colder and colder here, I'm wondering if it's going to be more difficult to do dishes without heating some water on the stove first.