Tolerance, tradition, and going incognito

On a given day, I don't tend to draw too much attention in the streets of Rabat. I dress more or less like the Moroccan women my age (long sleeves and sometimes tunics, pants, etc.). There are a lot of Europeans who live in the capital, and they, like me, don't care to be treated like tourists. There's plenty of room for everyone, and in general, everyone's very tolerant of differences.

On the street, folks will automatically speak to me in French. Men greet me with "bonsoir" at just about any hour of the day, and I also often hear "salut" or even "pardon". There's just a lot of French here, even if Morocco isn't fully a Francophone country. And White people are assumed to be French.

Nadia, Eric and I went to the local popular market last weekend to get veggies for Sunday's feast. Nadia did the buying, I watched, and Eric took photos from afar.

Not one person spoke to me in French when I was in my jellabah and headscarf. A few spoke to me in Arabic. And more importantly, no one bat an eye. Of course, I never would have gotten the scarf on properly without Nadia's help. It was her idea that I go incognito in the first place.

It's interesting the reactions that folks have based on preconceived notions about appearance. A woman in a headscarf is modest and laudable in Morocco, whether she has pale skin or dark skin. Frankly, I don't really want to imagine the reaction that I would have received in a mall in the United States in the same attire, as I fear many of my countrymen are a lot less tolerant than the average Moroccan.

LG X110 Netbook, laptops, and ESI

Before I left for Morocco, I looked into getting a netbook. The small screens were a little off-putting, but what really killed the deal was the small keyboards that I kept seeing. I got a Sony Viao laptop on sale instead.

While in France over spring break this year, I bought a little LG netbook. I don't exactly think of computers when I think of LG, but I took the plunge mostly because I needed something practical. The price was right ($400) and the size/weight of it is unbeatable. It fits in my purse, but it has a full sized keyboard and a 10 inch screen. I'm blogging on it now from a hotel room in Casablanca, connected to the Internet via my LG modem.

Netbooks are showing up all over the place in Morocco now -- as are pay-as-you-go modems that connect to cell towers. I only noticed the netbooks when I returned in April, and the modems have onlyn been competitively priced since the beginning of 2009. Change is afoot.

My students don't seem to have a set-up like mine quite yet... In fact, ESI students rarely brought laptops to school, hardly ever took notes on them in class if they did have them, and didn't seem to be addicted like American students are.

However, there were definitely lots of students with laptops in the common areas of ESI between classes and during lunch. Perhaps the wifi near the library is a kind of siren song? Maybe by next year it will be accepted for students to start bringing them to class. The whole environment reminds me of classes in the United States about 10 years ago. It just wasn't cool to lug around a laptop (besides, what if it broke?) but today, it's impossible to be in a classroom setting without one.

Maybe netbooks/modems like mine will make it easier for ESI student to take the plunge and have unlimited Internet access at school. I've offered to leave my wireless router with the tech guys so that they can have a stronger wifi signal for next year -- it's the same as the router they've already got installed. For the students' sake, I hope they take me up on it.

We'll miss you, Uncle Jim

I got a series of emails yesterday evening about the unexpected death of my mother's brother, Jim. Here I was, on the other side of the Altantic, and I knew about the death right along with the other cousins. It's amazing how family can organize in times of great sorrow.

My mother and her husband are on vacation, however, and no one at home in St. Louis had their cell phone numbers. Strangely enough, yesterday was the day that I finally decided to buy a modem that connects to the Internet through cell phone towers (Wana). It was when I came home yesterday evening and plugged in the modem for the first time that I read the emails about Uncle Jim. I was able to send my mother's cell phone number to her St. Louis-based brother, who in turn contacted her that very day.

Everything this happens for a reason. I can't explain why I got Internet yesterday afternoon, why I didn't wait until today or next week. If I hadn't gotten that modem, I wouldn't have been able to communicate with the family and to pass on my mother's cell number. And I wouldn't know. And so, I'm struck wondering how the family would have handled this without the use of modern ICTs.

Of course, I'm sorry that I can't be there with my family at this very sad time. Uncle Jim was a dear man (who even, I'm delighted to mention, visited me once in Dijon many many years ago), and his death is truly a loss for us all. Uncle Jim, we'll miss you very much.

Guest speakers

Throughout the school year, I've tried my best to show the group of third year students that there is a world of libraries outside of Morocco, that this world is not only accessible to them, but that it is interested in them and that it will embrace them.

I'm pleased that almost everyone I approached to present to my students was more than happy to do so, many presenters going to great lengths to perfect their "library French" or to come up with a Morocco-friendly approach to a topic, or both.

Yesterday was the last regular class period, and we had one final guest lecturer -- a former Fulbrighter who had worked at the university library in Ifrane. Diane d'Almeida of Boston University Library spoke eloquently about that experience, spoke about her more recent Fulbright in Jordan, and gave some wonderful professional advice to the students. In no uncertain terms, Diane was an absolute delight. It was obvious that the students were taken with her; the fact that they could see her (and that she could see them) I think was particularly beneficial for all.

Moroccan noise levels and the Mediterranean way

Yesterday at the ESI faculty meeting, I finally was able to identify what's different about these Moroccan faculty meetings: it's not that professors disagree vehemently with each other or that attendees arrive late (that happens in the US too); it's not that part of the meeting is in Arabic or that sweet mint tea and almond cookies are served (these elements are less likely to be found in the US, I admit).

It's the volume. Morocco may be an Arabophone country, but its geographical location makes it a Mediterranean one, above all else. Reminded me of the converstaions that one can overhear in Italian where it sounds like all of the parties truly hate each other and are screaming, but in fact they're just "shooting the breeze."

The librarian at the Embassy had me over for dinner earlier this week. Her husband made a point of explaining that the Arabic spoken in Morocco sounds "harsh" to other speakers of Arabic, and that speakers from Egypt, for example, might think that Moroccans are angry. I'll confirm right now that they can sound angry to non-Arabic speakers, too, even when they aren't. The volume though, is what really seals the deal for me.

The cab driver this morning had the radio on so loud that I could hardly think. And two days ago, when a young man unceremoniously made a grab for my bottom in the street, the absolutely blood-curdling scream I let out (followed by me yelling louder than I ever would have thought possible) didn't seem to get anyone's attention.

Perhaps all the folks on the street were all busy talking animatedly to each other or listening to music, or otherwise being Mediterranean. I wonder what would have come of the same scene in Italy, or in Missouri or New Jersey.

Working from Home

When Ray came to visit, I moved into the "chambre d'amis" so that he and his wife could have the master bedroom.  Despite the low desk and the hassocks, I end up getting a lot of work done in there.  And I love the rug.  However, the neighbors with whom I share a wifi connection are out of town, and their router is now officially down.
In short, no Internet from home for me, which also means no calls in the evening to the United States, no email, no blogging on Sunday, etc.
As a positive, I get even more done without the online distractions, but I admit that it's not entirely easy to plan ahead for an evening without Internet.  I guess I'll get more used to it as time goes by. Until then, I'm hoping like anything that my neighbors are planning a short trip. However, when I saw them before their departure, they had about six suitcases between the two of them. 

The photo is one of many excellent shots Ray got during his stay.

Blogué avec le Navigateur Flock

9th Annual ESI Forum

Yesterday and today marked the 9th annual Forum at ESI. While teaching yesterday morning, I was stopped mid-sentence and asked to let Cataloging students out so that they could attend the opening.

It was quite the affair, and everyone was dressed so well!

Today's session drew smaller crowds, but has been an incredible success all the same. The forum is organized entirely by students, and the sponsorship they were able to get was impressive.

The flyer for the event details the names of speakers and other events, and is available on the newly redesigned ESI website as a PDF.

Students had the program printed and had notebooks made; they also had a photographer taking orders for yesterday's photos (reminded me of cruise ships, actually).

As a follow-up to recent posts: my name is no longer listed on the "corps enseignant" page of the new Website. Alas, my 15 minutes of fame have passed. Also, as a visiting professor, I am unable to serve on the jury of the masters student, and had to hand back the masters thesis today. It's unfortunate, but better to know now than later.

The BNRM, with Ray

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Originally uploaded by schwartzray

While Ray Schwartz was here, we toured the National Library (the BNRM). We really got the royal treatment. Here's one of Ray's photos of the area where specialists repair old books. These folks are not graduates of ESI, but have been trained extensively in their craft.