April 21—After a wonderful week with my Fulbright teaching colleagues, we said farewell and took trains and planes to our host communities. Well, after a smooth and relaxing train ride from Casablana to Fès, my traveling partners and I have reached the cherry-on-top part of our trip - arrival at our host city Fés! Hicham, our energetic host teacher for the week, greeted us before we even stepped off the train onto the platform. He told us that he talked to the gate agent and told him he must get special permission to us on the platform. He said, “I told him I had VIP guests to meet.” Talk about another warm Moroccan welcome! Another note is that he had been in Brighton, England earlier that same day...He presented on the "5Cs" of TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) and on AI in education. We asked if he was tired. He said no, not at all. He insisted on carrying all of our luggage and we made our way to his car. In the coming days, we would learn that Hicham has the gift of connection; whether in the classroom, in the shops of the Medina, or at a cultural site, he would find a way to make a connection and make sure they we did as well. We also learned that connection is one of his "5 Cs" in the classroom too. We were seeing the C of "connection" in action - before we even enter his classroom. As I start to watch for the ways that my 'guiding question' plays out in schools and society — How do schools and teachers in Morocco maintain high levels of engagement and ensure gender parity and equal opportunity for all students? — I can see that connection will be at the top of the list in Hicham's pedagogy. We also quickly realized that we would be looked after every minute of each day, and that Hicham is "famous" on the streets of Fès. Flash forward: On the second evening of our stay in Fès, Hicham taught a class and the word “famous” came up as a vocabulary word. He explained to his students: “it means popular. Everyone knows you.” We couldn’t help but chime in, “It's like your teacher! Hicham is famous!” It only took us a few times in the car with him, only a single walk from the car to his home, one pass through the famous "Blue Gate" into the old Medina, for us to see that everyone knew him - and loved calling out to him. We heard, more times than we could count, shouts of "Hicham!", from our left, our right, behind us. Folks came out of their stalls to embrace him; they waved from motorcycles and on foot as we drove through traffic circles; they walked with purpose out of shops, classrooms, hallways to give him the “bro underhand high-five. (Not sure how to explain that one but that's my attempt. See above photo!) We even watched as he connected with the parking attendants on the streets each time we needed to find a parking spot once near the crowded edge of the old Medina. From the first day in Fès, we knew immediately that we would be well cared for - and well-connected - in Fès!
0 Comments
April 20—Before our arrival in Morocco, we received a packed agenda. As I look back at it now, I remember the early sense of excitement and anticipation, but also the mystery of it all. We would learn so much, obviously. On paper, sessions about the "Linguistic Landscape in Morocco," "Morocco's Effort in Sustainability," and "Gender Dynamics in Education" immediately caught my eye. So much of these one-liner titles have now come to life! Here's the full agenda: One of the sessions that I was most anticipating, "Gender Dynamics in Education" with Dr. Souad Addouda, continues to occupy my mind days after her presentation back in Rabat. In particular, her response when I asked about Morocco's position on the World Economic Forum's latest "Gender Parity Index" has continued to resonate. My World Lit class was in the midst of examining gender parity in Japan as part of one of our daily world new stories in March. Then, as we took a quick look at the index, one of my students pointed out that Morocco's position was quite low on the list. Ms. Frontier, they said, you're going to Morocco soon. What about that? They asked with that look students give you when they want to know more but they're not sure they'll get what they want. Hmm, I thought. Now I have a job to do. Find out more. After learning about her research on urban feminists collaborating with rural women on land rights (images above), I asked Dr. Addouda directly about the World Economic Forum gender parity number, in the hopes of learning something more clear. Her response was immediate, "It is complicated," she said. "Women are not oppressed in Morocco. Look at me. I am teaching men and women. But it is complicated. Numbers don't tell the full story." I don't remember every single word she said, but those first two words keep resonating in my head. It's complicated. Numbers don't tell the full story. I know that, yet it sometimes feels easy from far away to look at a reliable source such as the World Economic Forum's data and create a story in your head. I was reminded of this just a couple of days ago - nearly two weeks after Dr. Addouda's presentation. I checked my email to find a message about the 'top schools' in Michigan. Several Ann Arbor schools made the list, and both Skyline High School and Pioneer High School made the list of top schools in the e-mail. It was certainly a nice email to receive and read while far from home. But of course I also know that at Pioneer, any students who see this list will have some things to say about the fact that one of their rivals, Skyline, was ranked a bit higher. Is it because they are ranked as a magnet / STEM school? How does their data look on paper versus what is happening in each classroom? What is the school experience for students at Skyline versus Pioneer? Either way, both schools are outstanding in the grand scheme of Michigan educational spaces, but after Dr. Addouda's "it is complicated" comment, I realize even more that looking at numbers and lists is not the way to understand the story of a place. And this goes for just about every topic, issue, and story that we've learned about the friendly and hospitable country of Morocco - and also for our own American culture, educational systems, gender dynamics, and more. There is so much more to the story than data. Each day, even more, we are extraordinarily grateful to exchange ideas and learn the story beyond the data from our Moroccan hosts and colleagues.
April 20—One cultural element that I noticed in our hotels in both Rabat and Casablanca is likely not Moroccan at all, but perhaps Moroccan hotel culture for foreigners. Piano bars. When I told several people I would be in Casablanca for part of my trip, they immediately mentioned the movie Casablanca. The film is, I believe, known in part for its many piano bar scenes and the famous line, "Play it again, Sam." One key location in the film, Rick's Cafe, features a piano player and has become, it seems, synonymous with the city of Casablanca for some (perhaps many?) In fact we learned that the first Rick's Cafe was on a studio set in Hollywood and only in the past 20 years did Rick's Cafe open in Casablanca. Wrap your head around that one for a moment. And now, not surprisingly, Rick's Cafe is a stop for many foreign tourists when they come to Casablanca. We even did a drive by and lightning stop as we tooled around the city during our visit. And while we didn't go in, I did visit on a previous trip to Casablanca back in 2009. Here's a flashback photo of my visit to Rick's Cafe with my college friend Debbie. We ended up at Rick's in part because we were in Casablanca during Ramadan and primarily tourist restaurants were open. Ok, enough about Rick's Cafe. Now, back to piano bars and Moroccan hotels in 2024. I noticed one in Rabat, first. Here's a short 1-minute video of our hotel, the Tour Hassan Palace, in Rabat, leading up to my discovery of the piano bar, about 55 seconds in. Next, upon arrival in Casablanca, another piano welcomed us to our hotel, the Idou Anfa. It wasn't long before we found that this was not the only piano in the hotel. When we stepped out of the elevator onto the top floor of the hotel on our first full day, another grand piano welcomed us. While the view out the window of the Hassan Mosque II, with the Atlantic Ocean as a backdrop, my amazing colleague Meisha made a beeline for the piano. Meisha, a music teacher in South Carolina, stepped up to the piano and gave us all an impromptu concert on the 16th floor of the Idou Anfa hotel. She teaches elementary school music (think herding cats), and I learned she currently teaches in a rural town with a single stop sign (not even a light.) But that's not all. She has taught and performed in cities - actually continents - around the world. We're talking Europe, Africa, Australia. I often feel like I’m with a humble celebrity when I pose in photos with her! Here's one just before lunch one day. Anyway, Meisha has worked as a pianist and musician in a range of positions that are eye-popping. She's accompanied opera singers in Italy as they prepared for performances, she spent a summer in Ghana as a musician, she's taught music in Philly, and she's worked as a artist in residence in Australia. Wow. Well, now she can add "Piano Performance on the Penthouse in Casablanca" to her CV! Here's how it played out (absolutely no pun intended): Notice the wall display informing visitors that the legendary Nina Simone played this exact piano - and that the piano still remembers her. Sigh. Nothing like good-old personification to help one befriend an inanimate object immediately. Here's what happened next: Meisha removed the giant case of flowers, put the lid of the piano up, and sat down. She graciously agreed to pose for photos with some of her fans (me, for one.) Later that evening, after a much needed power nap, I rushed through the hotel lobby in a to meet my colleagues at a restaurant. Despite my panic about being late to dinner, yet another pianist's tunes paused me in my tracks. A man in a fedora sat at the hotel piano and played a familiar tune. The piano culture may stem from the famous "Play it again, Sam" scene and piano storyline from the Humphrey Bogart/Ingrid Bergman film Casablanca. While this piano-in-a-hotel culture isn't really Moroccan, no complaints from me about walking through a space and hearing live piano music each evening! My brother-in-law, a huge piano fan and brilliant musician, wouldn’t be able to contain himself! I don’t expect a hotel piano bar once I arrive in my host teacher's city Fés, but I’ll keep you posted. I’ll also ask Meisha what the musical landscape is in her host teacher's city. Like me, she'll be heading to one of Morocco's four former imperial cities, the city of Meknes. Meknes, above, is known for its imperial past and historical monuments. Fés, Marrakesh, and Rabat are the other three imperial cities. I'm not sure I will make it to Meknes on this trip, so I will have to get the full report from Meisha. I also know she is itching to find out how Moroccans study, learn, play, and pass down the art of music. I know she will come back and share what she learns. Updates to come!
April 20—Just as the Empire State Building is emblematic of the United States' focus on the importance of a robust American economy, the Hassan II Mosque and its majestic minaret symbolize something that I am still wrapping my head around here in Casablanca and Morocco. It’s about what people and their leaders value, and there is a lot to unpack here. Is it the sign of a desire to value learning and craftsmanship, since our tour guide emphasized that everything (and I mean everything) is made by hand here? The answer is yes. Is it a sign of the advancement of a society and country that is sometimes perceived as more third than first world? Yes again. Is it about the importance or religion and Islam? Most definitely yes. And I could go on and on. As we think about and look at the images that appear front and center on the Wikipedia pages for cities around the world, it is clear that the monuments of our cities represent more than just architectural markers - they are truly a entry points as we look at and learn about the now of a city. And then they continue to help us learn, as they make us want to open a door to the past and walk through that door. One significant, architectural structure can tell an incredible story and invite us to take a step backwards, into the past, to understand how it came to be. And what we learned - the story of a single structure, can help us understand the larger story of a city and a people - and what they believe in and value. On our last day in Casablanca, the Hassan II Mosque became our storyteller - of course with the assistance of our smart and funny tour guide. Our tour of the Hassan II Mosque took us from the this-is-what-you-see-now to the how-did-we-get-here-and-why: Our brilliant tour guide (Note to self: Find out her name and add it here!) helped us understand this monumental space and how it can help us understand Casablanca and Moroccan history. Here are some great facts she shared with us: It is a place of learning. Everything is hand-made. It is the 4th largest mosque in Africa, and the 14th largest mosque in the world. It was a huge project for craftsmanship. The King wanted everything perfect. (And it is!) In terms of capacity: 25,000 people can fit. The women are in the gallery, while the men are on the floor; the women are closer to God. During Ramadan, including the outside spaces, there is a capacity for hundreds of thousands. She told us to imagine all of the shoes, since everyone takes their shoes off! With a touch of humor, she told us, "You could come in one shoe and come out with another." The chandeliers are brass, with weights of 600 kg and 1200 kg (!) How do they change the bulbs, she posed the question to us? With a mechanical system. She quipped that they tried to train the pigeons but it didn’t work. She reminded us again that all materials are Moroccan with one single exception: The glass is from from Venice - the famous Murano glass. Another notable detail she mentioned was the story of the doors and the ceiling. First, the doors: She told us that copper is not a wise choice by the ocean, so the doors are titanium and work due to a hydraulic system. As we marveled at the door system, she continued on in her now-signature deadpan style, "maybe the doors will be the ruins of the mosque." Next, the ceiling: It actually opens! She told us, "it's like a convertible mosque. Like a car. Imagine it open during winter on a sunny day. Or when the King is here, praying with 25,000 people during Ramadan." She continued, as we delighted in listening to her end-the-fact-dump-with-humor, "it is a house of God, all are welcome, but some are more welcome than others. The pigeons are a problem." We didn't see one in the mosque that day, but we could imagine them now, ineptly changing light bulbs and joining in the prayer. In any case, we walked away with what I've documented above and so much more. I may come back and add the rest of my notes later! She wrapped up with many words of wisdom, but one I recall - that the mosque has been built with such craftsmanship and as part of a collective effort that the hope it that it will "last forever, inshallah." As I wrap up this post, I'm going to take a moment to share a humbling (and embarrasing) moment from this visit. I was so taken with the mosque - the grandiosity of it all, the ceiling, the vastness, the architectural detail - that I literally nearly fell into one of the 45 marble fountains in the ablution hall. Thanks to one of my colleagues for catching me, and luckily there was no water in it. But I think it speaks both to my own 21st century American inability to just take in the moment but also to the unbelievable nature of the place - I couldn't keep my eyes on the ground. And I wanted to capture it all, so I could share and relive the visit over and over again. One final photo to capture the epic nature of the mosque and our group. A keen-eyed colleague snapped and shared this photo (below) at the end of our visit, as we walked away, full to the brim with the brilliance and majesty of this space. She shared it with the group, and entitled it "Your album cover!" It would have to be a pretty spectacular album to match up with this imagery, that's for sure. ![]() April 19—Well, just when I felt I’d figured out the language landscape in Morocco . . . plot twist (again). But first, a quick look at a rendition of the meskouta I made just before departing for Casablanca. My meskouta compared to the Hotel Idou Anfa's lunch meskouta: While this may seem like a 'plot twist,' (no fancy garnish on the meskouta we've seen thus far,) hold on. It's not. After a lovely lunch that included the above meskouta with fruit toppings (note: try making this version at home!), we headed back up to the 16th floor of our hotel in Casablanca, and took another look at the majestic Hassan II Mosque. After taking the views in, it was time for what became one of our most memorable and thought-provoking presentations thus far. Dr. Zoulal Mansouri, professor at Hassan II University. Dr. Mansouri shared her research on educational reforms in Morocco as we listened, furiously took notes, and reflected on the complexity of school systems and reforms in our heads. It was during her presentation that came another plot twist in the story of our understanding and perceptions of Morocco. She raised the question of whether students should learn so many languages at school. Wait, we thought, you are superstars here in Morocco. You've got language education figured out. Your students are top-notch in language acquistion and multi-lingual learning and communication. We've learned that most students speak Moroccan Arabic (Dareeja) at home, and many learn standard Arabic, French, and English at school. And some, depending on the region in which they live, also speak Amazigh at home. And many students are also now learning Amazigh at school as part of the Moroccan goal to preserve the Amazigh language and culture. I even snapped a couple of photos in Casablanca to showcase the ways that the Moroccan government buildings have both Arabic and Amazigh text (and sometimes English or French, too): You’ve got it all figured out, we thought to ourselves. Why even raise the question of “how many languages should students learn in school?” D. Mansouri pushed us to reflect, to think critically as educators, and to ask important and difficult questions for a moment. She discussed the complexity of Moroccan education and complicated choices and how they are influenced by politics, language, and so much more. Should the language of instruction at Moroccan universities be English or French? Should students focus on and learn two, three, or four languages? What decisions should the Ministry of Education make when it comes to curriculum? How will educators’ thoughts and opinions impact and influence these choices? In any country, we realized, when it comes to educational policy, well, as we well know, it is never simple or straightforward. Needless to say, I filled my explorer's journal with ideas - and even finished one of my notebook sections since there was so much to write down! I didn’t want to forget anything. Thanks again, Mr. Packard, for the journal! Not to worry, there are two more sections with space in which to write and sketch out new ideas. . .and of course write down more questions!
Dr. Mansouri presented many more ideas and gave us space to think about what is happening in Morocco's educational system - and how we can apply some of her research, ideas, and questions to our own practice. We left her presentation feeling wiser and much more educated on what’s happening at the higher levels - just days before we will be on the ground in schools across Morocco. Her thoughtfulness and desire to connect with us was once again in line with the Moroccan way, and we thanked her for deepening our “story” and understanding of Moroccan education and the linguistic landscape. Soon, we will go to schools and see the ways that schools are impacted by policy, theory, and the ideas our lecturers presented to us with such care. Indeed, the plot thickens… |
AuthorAmy Frontier teaches at Pioneer High School in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Archives
September 2024
Categories |