Life In Taroudannt

My time teaching basic IT at Al Wifaq school finished last week with a grand little party, cakes and all, thrown by the children. It was a really nice way to draw all the lessons to an end. The last week or two had been mainly focused on doing more fun activities in an end-of-schoolyear style. The penultimate week I’d organised a “Paint” competition, with chocolate for the winners of each group, in a bid to get the children to apply themselves and get pictures that I could put up on a big board in class, in honour of their efforts! It worked, though I quickly learnt that I needed to give the kids a bit of inspiration and show them ideas for what could be done in order to get their best work. Otherwise, I would be presented time and again with the same old house drawings! To be expected, maybe. Anyhow, once I’d honed the format of the lesson, all went well, I got the good drawings I wanted and at least one group left the room at the end of the class with big smiles and chocolate smudges on their faces!

My final class was even more fun. I taught the children how to upload digital pictures (unsurprisingly, none of the children possess digital cameras- but maybe following Morocco’s development, things will have changed…we can hope!) and then open them in Paint. My focus on Paint was the last section of my programme which had previously taken in Microsoft Word, Excel and a touch of Powerpoint. Unsurprisingly, it was one of the most enjoyed, though Word too was very popular, especially with the use of WordArt, different fonts, colours and pictures. The kids are more than happy to have a go at learning the basics of using computers- the latest technology, webcams and headsets have landed in Moroccan cybercafes littering the streets, and surfing the web and chatting by MSN have become adolescents’ favourite pastime! It was a big surprise when I first got to Morocco to discover that broadband and Pentium 3 computers could be found in cybers everywhere. The other shops to be found pretty exclusively consist of fruit and veg stalls, all-purpose foodstore shopfronts, carpenters, hairdressers, bike repairmen and cafes- all age-old services. Moroccans are becoming increasingly computer-savvy, so providing IT lessons, especially to children who have not previously had access to computers, are useful for the community and are met with eagerness from the children.

That said, my final lesson with each class did turn into riotous affairs. I’d taken each group to the garden where I took a series of pics of them, before loading them up into Paint, where they could draw clown’s noses on each other and transpose their heads onto each other’s bodies to their heart’s content. It was very enjoyable, even if I did take exception when my head was drawn into the fray (as it were) and placed on the body of a particularly rotund little girl! Getting the kids to leave the room at the end of the final lesson was particularly difficult, with my tactics of locking the children in for a few seconds seemingly not going down well with a fellow member of staff…Oh well. It was sad to leave the children, but I hope to return to Taroudannt to see them- and, with any luck, they will have been able to take on what they have learnt and use their new knowledge for other subjects (or impressing their friends in chatrooms)!

So, all this time I've been working in the disabled unit of the Lalla Amina town orphanage, but what has that entailed? As I've mentioned before, the starting point to a description is that facilities for disabled children, particularly orphans, are decades behind those found in the UK. Without the support system of a family, the lot of the disabled child is difficult here in Morocco, and that is all the more reason for coming out here and giving them some time, affection and hopefully educating them as well. However, it also means that the task of the volunteer is far harder, for the children have been left without education- have no formal educators at all, and in this case, Abdellah, an autist, is the only one who ever has.

Much of my day, therefore, is spent spending individual time with the children (they each have such different conditions that group activities are difficult), putting them in situations where they can have fun, or alleviating the routine in enjoyable ways. On top of that, I've also taken on the role of feeding Fadua, who is severely physically disabled. The tasks are so vital and so necessary to the wellbeing of the 6 children- the women who keep them are so permanently busy washing, cleaning, feeding, folding clothes and the like that they are too overrun to do much of this themselves. It's an enriching but difficult job- I've really enjoyed it, particularly as a break from the more intellectually demanding teaching (very enriching too, for different reasons) on the other days of my week!

Abdellah, as I say, is an autist, and very creative with it. I've spent a number of hours playing with him and little Bouchra, constructing little towns with duplo bricks. Abdellah also loves to draw, and knocks out sketches of the town, its walls, mosque minarets peeking over them, on a daily basis! I find the best teamwork is for me to draw an outline of a sketch which is to his liking and for him then to fill in the outline. The walls of the house are now covered in his proudly exhibited work!

Bouchra, I have to confess, is my favourite. She is a very affectionate young girl who takes delight in approaching strangers during our short walks together round town, as I take her to see some of the world beyond the orphanage walls. I'm pretty sure she has a bit of a thing for big machinery as well, as once she spots a coach, a truck or even a horse-drawn carriage, there'll be no moving her for a while! She is very friendly and obedient, although she's gotten a bit cheeky of late, laughing at my oustretched arms telling her to "come here!" ("ajee!" in Moroccan dialect) so we can head back to the house in time for the children's lunch. It's going to be hard to leave her, as she benefits from my presence perhaps the most.

Issam, a young boy of nine, is by turn friendly and a bit worrying. He's very active and spends much of his time trying to climb out of windows- the house, luckily, is a bungalow- in order to escape into the orphanage grounds and spend time outside, chasing cats. I spend a good part of every day taking him for walks or running after him. I've found bringing in a football keeps him occupied for a while. Indeed, it does all the children, but they haven't yet grasped the idea of "teams"- perhaps a bit ambitious on my part!

Aziz is seventeen years old and effectively fully grown. He loves music, handclapping and dancing and so activities are focused around that. Mostly, he is good-natured and well-mannered- Hemdullilah (thank God)- as when he wants something he can be pretty forceful! The principle method for calming the children is to offer them sweets. It works, but I can't help but think that the theory needs to come on a little! Methods for caring for the children are rudimentary, sadly. Khalid, another young boy who is normally no trouble and who, for a skinny child, puts away some of the biggest plates of food I've ever seen, normally has his hands tied behind his back to prevent him from trying to pull at his ears. He has already managed to remove most of one lobe, so his movements are restricted for his own good. So far, this "technique" has worked too- but it is hardly anything more than expedient, and medical diagnosis does not enter into it.

The ultimate objective of the work for the children is to keep them, take care of them and feed them. Beyond this, very little is achieved and they have no hope of integration into society. That's why it is so important for volunteers to come in, play with them, give them love and take them for walks outside. Of the three projects AfricaTrust and Groupe Maroc Horizons offer to help groups of disabled children, this is probably the hardest on a personal level, as conditions are difficult. However, it is rewarding, and most of all, it is very much necessary, for the children and to help the women carers of the orphanage. It's been a highly valuable experience and will stay with me for life!

Not long to go now. Only one week of work left and then it's time to tie up all my loose ends and say goodbye. I will miss Taroudannt for sure. Ex volunteer, Hannah, has warned me that I will doubtless suffer from culture shock on my return to the UK. No donkeys and carts, women in jilabas or patisseries on every corner (maybe that's a good thing..). My sanity will certainly benefit from fewer pestilant boys hanging on the streets. But maybe there's a little part of me that likes to be noticed. Back in England I will be Miss Invisible again, no longer the ethnic minority. That's something to think about.

So I have last minute shopping on my To Do list (gotta buy a gift for granny), Essaouira music festival next weekend - LOVE Essaouira, definately a place to visit if any budding volunteers are reading this.. And finally I'm going trekking for four days in the Atlas mountains with my dad before catching the plane home July 4. Busy schedule eh?

Christina