I'm back!

My apologies for the delay on this blog -- life has been a bit hectic of late.

I just recently returned from a program trip to Morocco. We had travelled there to investigate Moroccan immigiration to Spain as well as the Spanish and French colonial history of the area and tangible impacts still seen today. I stayed a few days after the group to continue work on my research project... which I suppose I should explain a bit more.

For those interested or planning to study abroad soon, the school I am currently enrolled in for my study abroad program is called the School for International Study (SIT) in Granada, Spain. I was initially hoping to study in Barcelona, but after I found that wasn't an option through my home university, I chose this program for a few reasons: 1) All students are placed with home stay families (ideal for learning the language, my main goal); 2) It's considered to be a program with a more academic slant (I didn't just want to party all semester -- those blogs would get old fast); 3) Granada has quite a reputation for being a beautiful place; and the one that really sold me on the program, 4) For my language level, I wouldn't have class for nearly the last month of the semester! There are two language tracks, A and B. 0-3 semesters of college level Spanish puts you in Track A, and 4 or more puts you in Track B. Track A has class the full semester and is involved in community service with a small project paper due at the end. Track B has the last month more or less free to pursue and independent study project (ISP) on any interest of theirs pertinent to the program. It is through this that I am conducting a photo documentary case study on a Moroccan student immigrant at the University of Granada. Though the day to day work load may be a bit heavier than other study abroad programs, I must credit the SIT staff at my school for allowing me great flexibility to pursue my research, traveling solo both in Spain and Morocco to conduct my alternative research project (photography is a significant part of it) while being advised by a local project director to guide me along the way. Overall, it's been a very rewarding experience, and I greatly appreciate the independence the program has granted me.If you want more info: http://www.sit.edu/studyabroad/ssa_spc.htm

Ok, now that my project is put in (long-winded) context, I'll do my best to recount the trip and the last few days.

We left to Morocco last Saturday morning, crossing the Straight of Gibraltar via a port called Tarifa, and what a crossing it was! Tarifa has ferries that cross in 35 min (as opposed to the 1.5-2.5 hour crossings from Algeciras). We boarded the boat and everything was fine. One of my classmates was afraid she was going to get seasick, so I was walking over to her with half a pill of Dramamine when WHAM! there is a giant crash and my head goes banging into the low ceiling. I fall into a seat and look out the front window -- giant waves everywhere. The wind that felt so nice on our faces as we boarded the boat had turned the sea into a monster. I gave her the Dramamine and hunkered down for the ride. Within a few minutes I heard some odd hacking sound, soon to discover that the passengers around me had begun vomiting, and considerable amounts! The smell and a funny sensation in my own stomach caused me to retreat to the back deck of the boat for some fresh air. The boat captain had asked that everybody stay seated and try to avoid moving around, but I figured that wouldn't be a good idea for me. As I walked to the back of the boat I felt like I was walking through a movie -- a ridiculous amount of people where throwing up into the little white sea sickness bags (unfortunately a few had missed too) and there were boat staff fanning some passengers with passports to cool them down and putting rain coats on others to warm them up. It was chaos! The back of the boat proved to calm my stomach, the smaller waves, fresh air, lack of odor, and sea spray working their magic. I was fine, along with most others in the back, and lucky for it. The 35 minute ride actually became a little over an hour due to the weather.

(Some of the happier survivors...)

Upon our arrival, a pale looking friend emerged from the restroom and informed me that the Dramamine didn't last ten minutes. Maybe it would work better as a preventative (rather than reactive) measure next time.

We were met at the port in Tanger by our tour guide, Annas, and after a few minutes of shaking off our sea legs we piled into a tour van and headed south to a beach town called Asilah. For the sake of space and time, I will bullet the eventful moments in each of the towns we visited:

Asilah

- arrive, leave baggage in the hotel

- walk to meet university student from Asilah in a cafe. As we are walking two small boys approach and start asking for money. I say "la" ("no") and keep walking. One of the more generous-hearted girls on my program decided to do what one of our professors had asked and hand out candy to the kids. She sticks her hand out with a piece of candy, and the kid just looks at her with a funny look. He keeps walking and says something to the other boy. The boy promptly comes up to the girl offering candy and smacks her with a stick! And that was the end of her candy-giving adventures...

- eat lunch with the students and get to know them for a while

- run into a monkey man with a cool hat on our way to a pier

(monkey man)

(view from the pier, seaside cemetery)

- visit an orphanage in Asilah, followed by a children's concert on the roof. We're given front row seats.

(Arabic rap)

- eat dinner with families of Asilah. I believe the Moroccan guy sitting next to me was high (or perhaps just very strange), but I enjoyed talking with him nonetheless. We talked for a good while.

- next day: between bursts of rain, we ride camels on the beach (a 20m walk -- pretty awkward actually), visit a local library that only allows members of a special foundation to visit and only on the days of a special festival, and visit and art museum before heading out to our next destination.

(camels!)

Tetouan

- tour through the medina ("city" in Arabic -- the old walled part of the ancient Moroccan cities -- the ground floor is mainly all shops)

(Tetouan tour guide in the medina)

(Classmate used as demonstration model in the medina)

- walk through a leather tannery (smells awful!)

- eat a traditional dinner at an old Moroccan mansion in Tetouan. We learned there that the city was mainly created by exiles of Granada who refused to convert to Islam when King Ferdinand and Queen Isabel conquered the city. They chose instead to migrate to Morocco and start over, and they chose the location of Tetouan in particular due to it's abundance of water.

(ceiling of the master bedroom in the mansion)

Belouta

- visit this small town just outside of Chefchaouen, first stopping at a honey cooperative of the town.

(inside the honey cooperative's offices)

- sleep in a small tourist house run by a family. We help them make bread.

(Knead that dough! Knead it!)

- while sitting around the house that night I joined a group of my classmates in a sitting room with a TV. I sat next to a very old Moroccan man dressed in traditional clothes across from the girls. They changed the channel to CNN in English (where we first learned of the recently developing swine flu), and then I recommended we change the channel to something more old-Moroccan-man-friendly. We found a channel with what seemed to be a music video and decided we had done a good job choosing. All of a sudden the old man turns to me and starts speaking rapid fire. I have no idea what he is saying, but of course I smile and laugh and nod along. After five minutes of this Annas comes and sits down with us. I recruit him to interpret, and I'm so glad I did. Apparently the man had first said that he was taught to sing the Koran like they were doing on the TV, and then he moved into telling anecdotes from his life. I'll relay my favorite: The man lived in the time of French colonial rule, and, as such, a French colonel came to rule over the town (to whom they had to salute with a  strong "Bonjour!" every morning). He left for a trip, and he returned to the village driving a car. He parked it outside a building and went in for a meeting. When he came out, he found the entire village gathered around the foreign object with four wheels. He saw buckets of water sitting out in front of it and the villagers offering all types of food to the car. The Colonel asked what was going on and the villagers told him, "We offered your animal water- it won't drink! We offered your animal food- it won't eat! What's wrong with it?!" The colonel simply replied, "Nothing. It doesn't eat or drink." Then a member of the bewildered crowd of villagers says, "That's amazing! When it has a daughter, give it to me!"

... And that's how the village was introduced to cars.

That man may have been old, but he told those stories with a feisty passion. I will not soon forget him.

- we all got dressed in local Moroccan wedding garb later that night.

(Mike Mian: Moroccan groom / Batman!)

Chefchaouen (former Spanish territory)

- eat lunch at and tour a women's center.

- first shopping time of the trip.

(most of the city is painted beautiful a Carolina blue -- it's perfect. P.S. UNC-CH Tar Heels are the NCAA Div I Basketball Chapms! Sorry... had to brag.)

(average city street)

- I stayed after a few days to conduct research for my project. I went to visit and take pictures of a good family friend of a Moroccan family I had been working with in Granada. His name is Said (pronounced "sigh-eed"), and he owns a small shop in Chefchaouen(called "Chaouen" in short by Moroccans). After searching around a bit I was able to find him, and I sat down and drank the mint tea he offered me. He has a condition with his legs that prevents him from walking correctly, so he uses crutches to get around. We sat there a bit, him smoking his pipe and swigging some gin, I drinking the tea and trying not to be awkward. Though it was an experience, it was not too helpful for my project -- he wasn't too talkative, despite my best efforts.

(Said in his shop)

On eventually returning to Spain (I'll take my editor's repeated and half-joking advice and not incriminate myself here with what I had to do to get on the boat in time -- I do hear that bribes are common in Morocco though...), I found that there was no transportation available to Granada due to my late arrival (wind again!). I took this opportunity to visit some university friends in Sevilla. I didn't arrive until midnight, but they came out for a few drinks with me anyway (despite their final exams the next day). We spent a few hours swapping study abroad stories and UNC stories before calling it a night. I woke up early the next day and headed back to my home base of Granada.

Since my arrival, I've been a bit crunched on time, frantically organizing and writing down my research of the past two months. I have to write a significantly long paper (more than 15 pages, and that's a small number due to my photography supplement) in SPANISH. We'll see how that goes. I think I can... I think I can... I think I can...

It's coming along, but wish me luck!

And don't you think I forgot Grandma... HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! (I know it's a day early, but I just couldn't wait.)

And happy Mother's Day Mom! (Ok, maybe that one is a bit early...)

Unitl next time,

Mike