In Rabat we had a presentation on Language and Cultural Identity by Dr. Anass Lenon.  This is a topic that fascinates me and it plays out in a very unique and interesting way in Morocco.  

There are two national languages in Morocco: standard Arabic and Amazigh. or Berber.  These are the languages you will see on highway signs, for instance. The Berbers were there first, more than 10,000 years ago.  Digest that time span, that's a hundred centuries ago.  They have a unique alphabet, it looks old. In modern Morocco about 30-40% of the population still speak Amazigh.

Arabic came with the Arab expansion around 1000 AD.  It is of course the language associated with Islam - the Koran is written in Arabic.  Students learn classical Arabic in school, along with French and other languages.  Arabic is used for official communication by the king and government in general, and of course it is used in mosques.  Two thirds of the population speak Arabic.

And then of course there is French.  The language of the colonizers (1912 - 1956), French is a sort of prestige language, associated with a good education and formality.  Most universities in Morocco use French as their lingua franca.

What is fascinating is that none of these languages: Amazigh, Arabic or French, is the common language spoken on the streets.  This is the domain of Darijah, a spoken language that has no natural script.  Darijah is a combination of all three: Amazigh, Arabic and French.  It is not intelligible to speakers of pure Arabic or French.

Thus a typical Moroccan speaks at least 3 languages, and I'm not even counting Spanish or English, which are also prevalent.  Think about what that does for your identity and breadth of cultural affiliation. The truth is that this sort of linguistic glut is common in post colonial Africa, where national boundaries were imposed over linguistic divisions.  South Africa has eleven national languages, for example.  I think it is part of why Moroccans are so hospitable: their common language is intrinsically a mixture of cultures spanning thousands of years.

For many IHS students the home stays with Moroccan peers was the most significant part of this trip. There is nothing like living under the same roof as someone and sharing meals to break down cultural barriers and stereotypes.  This was really the primary motivation for our trip so it was gratifying to see the alacrity with which students connected.

​When we first arrived in Moulay we were greeted by a band and a crowd of Moroccans.  Each student was handed a flower as they descended from the van.  This is by far the best way to arrive anywhere.

After a brief ceremony we proceeded to a group lunch.  The Ithaca and Moulay students sat down in mixed groups and at once began conversing.  The meal was a traditional Moroccan couscous, which meant that everyone was eating out of a common platter.  It felt as if we were among old friends.

From here we went to a presentation by ACCESS students in nearby Meknes (ACCESS is a program for learning English that specifically targets low income students).  After this we returned to Moulay and students split off in pairs to meet their families.

The following day was full of activities.  First there were presentations at the high school by students from both schools.  This included songs, drama and informational presentations about our schools.

Afterwards we had a tree planting ceremony.  Ithaca students planted 6 trees in the town square as a remembrance of this visit.

Next we all the visited the Roman ruins at Volubilis. This is the former site of Moulay Idriss - 2000 years ago.

On the third day we said our good-byes.  It was a brief visit and I hope that in future trips we will be able to stay longer.  But even three days was enough time to form close relationships that transcended cultural boundaries.  For me it was an opportunity to finally meet and stay with the person who made all this possible: Mohamed Touhami.  He and I had collaborated online on several projects, but this was the first time we met face to face.  I stayed with Mohamed and his family and we had an opportunity to cement a friendship that will hopefully lead to many more collaborations in the future.

The "Blue City" was a new attraction for me on this trip.  It is located in the North of Morocco near the Rif mountains.  The city was founded in the 1400's and was briefly held by the Spanish in the early 1900's.  The distinctive walls in the medina are painted many shades of blue, although no one seems to agree upon the reason.  The effect is quite pleasing and I think a better question is, Why doesn't everyone do this?  The winding streets of the medina are packed with shops selling an array of crafts, clothing and other items.  This is where our students first cut their bargaining teeth.

We stayed in an amazing hotel here (Riad Hicham) which I would recommend to anyone who is visiting.  The hotel is like a smaller version of the medina with twisting hallways and hidden passageways.  Below is a video of me trying to find my way from my room to the dining area.  I never did master this, but I did learn the location of a secret passage that leads to the backstreets of the medina.

As Americans we have a pretty abbreviated sense of history.  By all measures we are a very young country and this can be a two-edged sword. On one hand America is a modern country unfettered by ties to the past, but it can also be said that we lack a depth of culture and the historical perspective that older countries have.  

Morocco is at the other end of the spectrum.  We can trace Moroccan history back for thousands of years, and the remnants of these earlier cultures are still very visible.  Two of my favorite sites on this trip were the ruins at Volubilis and Chellah.  In Chellah you can actually see two sets of ruins: the first are from the Arab dynasty of the 13th century, but right beside these are Roman ruins from the 2nd century.  A thousand years ago Arabs stood at this site and looked out at Roman ruins that were a thousand years old.  The span of time is inconceivable to me.

​It bends my mind to walk among buildings that are thousands of years old, looking out over a landscape that is essentially unchanged.  Did the people who stood in the places where I now stand have similar thoughts and emotions?  If we are all so closely linked to these common ancestors then surely the divisions and obstacles of our modern world are figments of our own creation.

Personally I am an atheist, although I am not necessarily anti-religion, but I want to acknowledge that my ruminations on religion are about as valid as someone who is colorblind commenting on art.  And I'm certainly not an expert on Islam, but I do have some reflections on my limited experiences in Morocco.

Wherever you are in Morocco you are probably within sight of a mosque.  The tall minarets punctuate the landscape, and the call to prayer, or azan, is the first sound of dawn.  Islam permeates the daily life of a muslim and is inseparable from Moroccan culture.  If I had to delineate the most apparent manifestations  of this culture I would site humility, compassion and piety.  In addition to the mosques, Muslims pray out in the open, or in a small room of their home.  The simple act of getting down on all fours and touching one's head to the ground has a salutary effect that is as much physical as spiritual.  Try it, and see if it doesn't pull you out of an egocentric orbit.  

The Five Pillars of Islam are: 

• Shahadah: sincerely reciting the Muslim profession of faith.
• Salat: performing ritual prayers in the proper way five times each day.
• Zakat: paying an alms (or charity) tax to benefit the poor and the needy.
• Sawm: fasting during the month of Ramadan.
• Hajj: pilgrimage to Mecca.

These are the things that all devout muslims must strive to do.  The focus on supporting the poor is not unique to Islam, but it is a critical pillar and I think it permeates many social activities and interactions.  I think it also accounts for the incredible hospitality that Moroccans show towards strangers and travelers. 

This video was created by the Moroccan students who hosted our Ithaca students and was shared prior to the trip.

I first went to Morocco in 2012.  The experience was transformative for me in many ways.  This was the first time I had ever been in a predominantly Muslim country and it was my first exposure to Morocco's rich culture.  I was immersed in a flood of new sounds, sights and scents.  I was treated with overwhelming hospitality and I ate a lot of great food.  When I returned to the U.S.  I was determined to find a way to share the experience with some of our students.  Five years later I returned with two colleagues and 23 students.  This blog is a collection of some of my experiences and reflections during that trip.

The region of Svaneti is very old and is mentioned in Roman texts.  Because of the isolated region the people still live in a very traditional way.  Many villagers still travel by horse.  They cut their hay by hand and transport it with oxen.

This is a hiker's paradise.  You can travel for days hiking from one small village to the next.  I only got to spend 4 days here but it was like traveling to another time.

Georgian food is delicious and Georgians love to eat.   A typical Georgian meal consists of many courses including salads, khachapuri (bread made with cheese), ajapsandali (eggplant and other vegetables), lamb and beef kabobs, khinkali (dumplings) and many other items.  You can not really go to a Georgian restaurant by yourself, you need at least 5 other people to help you eat all the food.  In the photo below I am dining with several of my colleagues (Ms. Gray amongst them).

In the photo below we are at a winery with literally miles of underground storage.  It was a hot day but the winery was very cool because it was so deep - which is the point.  You can see several people wearing blankets.

The Supra is a Georgian feast featuring copious amounts of food and wine.  A good supra can last for many hours and requires serious skill and pacing.  The supra is based loosely on the Last Supper and there are many rituals and associated traditions.  I learned early that you should avoid finishing anything because it will immediately be replenished.  It is common to offer many toasts and a tamada presides over the entire feast.  By the end the plates are usually piled several layers high on the table and the guests are nearly comatose.  

One of the many hazards of travel in Georgia are the many unexpected animals in the road.  Whether in small villages, on major highways, or traveling by rail, the general rule seems to be that animals go where they please and humans adjust.  It gives new meaning to the phrase "free range."

The Georgian language is unique.  It has no connection to Russian, although this is a common (and irritating) question for Georgians.  It is one of the oldest languages still spoken, more than 2000 years old, and also one of the more challenging languages for westerners to learn.  The Georgian alphabet contains 33 script letters and does not distinguish between upper and lower case.  

Part of the challenge of speaking or hearing Georgian is the consecutive placement of "unfriendly" consonant sounds.  Even common words can be tongue twisters.  For example:
          "milk is "rdze",
          "fire" is "ts'ets'khli"
          and "good-bye" is "mshvidobit."
In some words there are 6 consecutive consonants before you get to a vowel.  

An additional complication is verb conjugation which can occur either at the start or the end of a verb - depending on rules that are beyond my comprehension.

For those of you familiar with gender noun classes from French or Spanish, Georgian goes in the opposite direction.  Not only are there no noun classes, there are not even gender pronouns.  In other words "he," "she," and "it" are all the same.  It is not uncommon for a Georgian who is learning English to refer to an inanimate object as "he," for example: "The car he is here." The distinction simply does not exist in Georgian. (Just as it is common for English speakers to mess up noun gender in French or Spanish.)

​And this, I think, is unique: in Georgian the word for mother is "de-da" and the word for father is "ma-ma."   It all makes you think about the things we take for granted in our own language.  Even seeing a simple sign in a strange script is somehow disorienting.