Life In Taroudannt

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

Ive been living here in Taroudannt for nearly 5 months now, and still havent found the apostrophe on a Moroccan keyboard. I think I noticed apostrophes in Sams earlier posts, so they must exist, but Ive given up the search. Youll have to do without, Im afraid.

So you want to know what Ive been up to all this time? Work wise, up until three weeks ago, I had been helping out in the Baby Unit of the orphanage, Lalla Amina, full time. Which mostly involved changing dirty nappies, bathing, clothing, feeding and (importantly) playing with the babies, who at the moment range from 5 weeks old to 3 years. I say -at the moment-, because babies are regularly coming and going. Numbers are actually diminishing. Lots of children are being adopted, even the boys, which is a very good thing. But of course bonds are formed, and its difficult to say good bye, even when its clear they are going to a loving home. The youngest child, Afaf, is 5 weeks old now. Shes grown before my eyes from a purple, wrinkly new-born into a chubby, pretty baby (with a good pair of lungs). Working in the Baby Unit is certainly good training for future family life...

Ive recently started a new placement at the Mansour Debit school, taking over from Hannah and assisting with a deaf/mute class. Lessons only last half a day, alternating mornings and afternoons, so now I spend half days at the orphanage and half days with the deaf class. It is a welcome change. Full days at the orphange were becoming a bit too routine, and although I have befriended many of the women who work there, I felt like I needed more variety. Like the prospect of accompanying the deaf class on a trip to Agadir and its beach! Many of the children come from modest backgrounds, and a trip to the beach is a very rare and exciting event. So much so that Habiba, their teacher, feels that it will be necessary to enlist the help of other volunteers to keep the rowdy bunch under control. Because they are unable to express themselves verbally, deaf children rely on actions to get their points across, and are often boisterous, even violent at times, to vent their frustration at not being understood. Retaliation in Moroccan culture is also positively encouraged. So if one boy hits his neighbour because he stole a stick of chalk, the neighbour will hit back harder.

Before I came to Morocco, I really had little idea of the age groups Id be working with, or their capability, but I brought along a few toys and games for the children all the same. Which have proved to be a great success. Have you heard of Scoubi Doos? They were a big craze among kids last year; I should know, I worked in a toy shop. They are long, coloured, plasic strings that you can weave together to make neclaces, braclets, decorations, figurines, anything you like! Last week I introduced them to the class and earned myself lots of brownie points. The boys took to them more than the girls, which was a surprise, considering they are pink and sparkly! The oldest boys are 13 or so, just on the brink of becoming self conscious.

Im afraid it is time for me to sign off. Ive just received a call from Sammy T saying my lunch is ready, so home I must go. This afternoon there is a bike ride planned with Sam and a couple of Belgian friends, Lies and Bernard. And tomorrow I might play tourist for a day and go swimming at the Jnan Soussia pool, catch some rays... But I promise this will not be the first and last piece of evidence youll read of my existence in Taroudannt.

Well, it's been a little while since my last entry, and, as is the way, time has literally flown since I began working. I mentioned in the last blog that the work had been, so far, a mixture of challenge and reward, and so it has been. It's the first time in my life that I've spent so much time in the company of children. Let me tell you- they are demanding! If I'm not doing a little dance to keep their attention at the front of the class, I'm answering their questions at their computer stations, or telling them not to turn off the PCs simply by just plonking their self-satisfied finger on the power button! It is good fun, however. Becoming a teacher has taken me back to my days of class, and the sniggers and "chat" we gave our esteemed teachers. Ah, the shoe is on the other foot now.

Apart from showing the children how to create illustrated texts in all kinds of fonts, colours and WordArt on their home town, Taroudannt (most of which inevitably start with a proud "Taroudannt est une belle ville..."), I've begun dabbling in teaching them to make graphs on Excel. Excel, though, can be a bit boring, so I normally offset it with a period of game-playing to give me a few plus points in the personality stakes. It's actually been quite nice becoming a known figure around school, too, and little smiling children often come to shake my hand, which is heartwarming. If only they knew what I was really like, ha ha. Only joking mum, if you are reading this.

I've been very successful so far in interspersing work with little weekend breaks, and Taroudannt is blessed in being within reach of a number of very picturesque sea and mountain destinations, Ouarzazate, Tefreout and the like. Last weekend I popped off to Agadir for the first time. It is not like Taroudannt. It is a sprawling beach holiday resort, populated by those two great beach-peoples (among the many locals), the Germans and Brits Abroad. Escaping to Agadir to make use of the beach has its merits, however, and I had a really good time, apart from the sunburn I contracted. To be honest, it felt like a total break from the cultural discovery which has constituted the rest of my time in Morocco. You really have to come out here to get a real grasp of how different the Arabic mindset is, rooted as it is in Islam, and it's been fascinating discussing this with Moroccan people.

This weekend, Christina and I are heading off with many of the women who work at the orphanage to Taghazout, another beachy place. I'm looking forward to it- rendez-vous in the next blog to tell you all.

Time to work it is. Having completed my induction course two weeks ago, I've since made the transtion to fully-flegded IT teacher at school and activities organiser at the orphanage. It's been quite a hard transition- I was enjoying pottering around town and having a fair amount of free time to make my cultural discoveries about Morocco and Taroudannt- but one which has already had its rewards. Seeing the kids smiling and thanking me as they leave class (if I get them to leave on time) has been one. Let's hope that doesn't change, although the test I've got planned for them next week isn't likely to be a winner for me in the popularity stakes. Still, little do they know, I have their best interests in mind (and I fancy putting my feet up for thirty minutes)!

There are 12 eleven to twelve yuear old children in each of the 4 IT classes I take in a day's work, which, luckily, is a very manageable number. In addition, perhaps because Moroccan teaching is traditionally quite authoritative, they are largely very well-behaved, even though I can never be quite sure what little Abdullah is saying when he whispers in dialect to Hamza, while pointing gigglingly at me! The lessons have already been of great benefit to my French and pidgin Maghrebi Arabic, since they are held in these languages- I haven't found more than a handful of Taroudannt townsfolk (Roudanais for short) proficient in English so far. Any holes in communication are generally overcome by my dramatic gesticulations at the front of the class, at which point the expressions on the children generally turn from blankness to utter hilarity! Of course, I don't mind, because the children are laughing with me...aren't they?

The orphanage has been a challenge and a reward too, but in a different way to teaching. Having been assigned to the disabled unit, my job is to try and bring some fun and diversity into the children's lives. The situation there is on the shocking side, in that Morocco, like much of the world, has only just really begun to turn its hand to the question of catering for disabled children with any kind of systematic approach. Many of the workers at the orphanage lack formal training in handling, let alone educating, disabled children. There are six children in the house, each of a different age, with different problems- though none have received a psychological diagnosis. Volunteer help is desperately needed! Alongside two women-helpers, I have been involved in playing basic activities with the children, doing some drawings, taking them for walks and so forth. When connections are made, the work is very fulfilling. It is also quite tiring, however, and luckily, most of them enjoy listening to Rai music on the cassette player that AfricaTrust donated to the house, which keeps everyone occupied long enough for me to recuperate and start a new activity!

The week recommences Monday, and so I'll be in touch soon to tell all how it goes!

A photo from back in March, when Grace, Hannah and Nicola were still in Taroudannt.

Nearly three weeks into my time in Morocco and it's gone very fast, barely a moment to take stock and realise where I am! Today has been a good day for me; technically, it was supposed to be the end of my induction course introducing life in Taroudannt and giving me the basics in Arabic, Moroccan dialect and teaching methods etc, but the period has been extended to allow me time to catch up for lessons missed last week. Unsurprisingly, after eating so many local delicacies, cakes, salads and couscous something got to my intestines and I was out cold for a couple of days! Still, back fighting fit now, and as I discovered this morning, I have been given till the end of the week to fit in missed lessons. Today for instance was spent with Karima, a member of the GMH team, discussing the role of women in Islamic society and what the Koran's position on the issue is. Needless to say, the two are at odds, so talking through the various discrepancies was good fun, even if to my Western ears some things were a slight shock.

Most of the rest of the day was spent eating cake, as everyone was celebrating Aid, the birthday of the prophet Mohammed. Cue every household in town opening its doors for family and friends to come and enjoy some hospitality, mostly consisting of mint tea, and yes, more cake. Resisting the host family's encouragement to eat "more, more" has proved fruitless so far, but I'm counting on more willpower after the festival, once all the biscuits are safely out of harm's way.

I was also told of my forthcoming teaching programme for the rest of my stay, which was big news. It looks like I'll be doing Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays at the Al Wifaq school, teaching classes of twelve young Moroccan kids basic IT and how to make the most of the computer room set up through AfricaTrust. I'm looking forward to the teaching but it looks like it might be a little tiring- being around my hosts', Rachid and Houda's children can be enough action for me! Still, the class sizes should be manageable and judging by the amount of children in cybercafes all over the place, at least some are conversant with the basics, so it should be possible to do some quite cool games and exercises. More to follow on that one.

The rest of my week- Tuesdays and Fridays- will be spent in the orphanage, organising activities for the six disabled children housed there. The conditions they are kept in are very backward compared to England, and only recently did Morocco start doing anything to aid disabled children at all. Many families simply kept children locked away in rooms, believing shame had been brought on them by their birth. So a lot of work remains to be done, but luckily the last volunteers on the scheme left posters, pens, paints, blankets and a tape recorder behind through their donations, so I'll be able to make use of all that. However, it still looks a difficult task, as the children have very different problems but live together. It's up to the volunteers to take the initiative and organise individual games and painting sessions. I'll be bringing more on my progress on that one as well!

Well, if I'm not mistaken, dinner time is approaching so it's back to Rachid and Houda's house. It must be at least a couple of hours since I last had some cake...