Lalla Takerkoust

Lalla Takerkoust, April 23, 2010.

I just spent an invigorating few days at my site. On Saturday morning, I took the bus along with several other trainees from Ouarzazate to Marrakech. It’s a long and difficult ride across the High Atlas but the views are absolutely spellbinding. Each bend in the road (and there are many) presents a better view than the last, though I had to keep my eyes closed much of the time to keep carsickness from getting the better of me. We arrived in Marrakech in early afternoon, and about 7 of us had lunch by the souk and walked to Jamè Lfouna, a large mosque in the center of the city. The square next to it is surrounded by shops, restaurants, and hotels, and bustles with snake charmers, monkeys, and tourists. I went to find the hotel recommended by Peace Corps to spend the night as the other trainees continued to Rabat or East into the mountains to their sites. I wound up not being able to get a room because my photocopied documents didn’t suffice, so after trying several hotels and huffing and puffing around town with my heavy backpack, I decided to head straight to Lalla Takerkoust.

The bush taxi ride barely took 45 minutes. I craned my neck eagerly, my eyes glued to the landscape as we neared the village. The land around Marrakech is very flat and I got excited as the terrain began to undulate more and more. In my opinion, the more hills there are, the more hiking opportunities. Lalla Takerkoust is split in half by a river and large dam built in 1938. One side is newer, populated by the families of the dam workers and now by miners, many of which are Arab. The older side is primarily berber, made up of the original inhabitants of the village that was displaced by the construction of the dam. The new side is more commercial and houses the weekly souk, post office, a pharmacy, internet cafes, and several shops, kiosks, and restaurants. The older side is much quieter, with just a couple kiosks. I am staying in old side of the village, known as Amzour. My post has just the right mixture; quaint, withdrawn from the city and surrounded by rolling hills and mountains, yet equipped with a variety of amenities to live comfortably.

Moroccan Host Family Number Two

My host family in Lalla Takerkoust is quite different from the Maali’s in Asfalou. My host father is a small, wiry man named Laarbi. He is 56 but looks 70, with a weathered, gray-bearded face, several missing teeth, and a worn down posture. He thankfully speaks very good French and I learned a great deal about him in the first couple days. He is a gardener in the orchards of a big mine 15km east of Lalla Takerkoust. He works 6 days a week from 7am to 3pm, and has had no holiday or vacation in the last 15 years. Up until 3 years ago, he used to walk over the hills to the mine and back every day: 30 km. He now takes a bus. His salary is quite meager, and he hasn’t managed to get a raise because there are so many unemployed people around seeking to work for less money. All this hard work and no savings to show for it has turned him into a rather cynical man, and he has a gruff demeanor but once you manage to see past it, he’s quite nice. His wife, Malika, is a stocky, gregarious woman of 50 with loads of pep. She speaks no French, which is perfect for me to learn Tash. The first couple days were tough as far as communication, but she is relentless and loves to talk, so I’m catching on. The Tashlhit spoken here is a little different from the Ouarzazate region. They understand all the words I use, but they have some different vocabulary so I have to re-learn many words.

Malika and Laarbi have two sons, Mehdi who is 15, and Hicham, who is 10. They both go to school and spend the majority of their time out of the house. Because Laarbi didn’t get married until he was 37, he is accustomed to doing many household chores himself. I was surprised to see him doing his laundry, making us tea at snack time, and even helping Malika cut up vegetables for dinner. Brahim Maali would never do that sort of thing. Malika is also a bold, outspoken woman who doesn’t hesitate to go out into the village. She is Vice President and Treasurer of the women’s association and sells clothes and jewelry in surrounding villages. As my community partner put it, “she’s not afraid of anyone”, which is rare in this culture for a woman I think. The combination of her social omnipresence and the lack of other females in the household makes for a sometimes messy home. Their house is new and only half finished, so much of it is bare cement walls and floors. The kitchen is well-equipped and usually littered with piles of accumulated dirty dishes and food scraps, but she’s a fantastic cook and showed me how to make breads and tajine and plans to show me much more. After the customary 2-3 days of being a guest, she let me help her wash dishes and cook.

My room is on the roof, with a splendid view and apt outdoor space for doing laundry. I had to coax them into letting me sleep in my own room because they were reluctant of leaving me alone at night. I spent two nights sleeping with Hicham and Malika but when they found me sleeping on a couch outside one morning to escape Malika’s monstrous snoring, they decided to clean up the dusty storage room on the roof for me. Laarbi chuckled for hours about it because he also can’t sleep in the same room as Malika and her snoring.

Amzour Women’s Association

The women’s association I will be working with is headed by Naima, my community partner. She’s 28, had has a History degree from the university in Agadir. She works at the village pharmacy 6 days a week and spends all her free time working on projects for the association. About 8 women, including my host mother Malika, are active members. They started the association less than a year ago with a larger group of women, but many dropped out as they lost interest or didn’t find the monetary benefits they’d expected. At any rate, the remaining members are extremely motivated and active. They work from a tiny loft donated by Naima’s father, making Moroccan pastries and breads to sell to shopkeepers in town. They are working on getting a larger workspace to get the fruit drier from CRDT NGO in Marrakech and hope to get some larger ovens to make bread en mass for local restaurants and guesthouses. Naima has many contacts from working at the pharmacy, as a large part of her clientele is local Europeans, regional shopkeepers, and tourists.

I helped the women make little anise-flavored croquettes in the evenings as they were working on an order for 8kg. They sell them at 15DH/kg, with a profit of about 6DH/kg (less than 1USD). The association also pays two young women/ teenagers to tutor elementary students in the evenings. Maybe I can get one of them to tutor me in Tash. Naima and I have discussed all sorts of potential projects we’d like to work on. I told them about my projects in Benin, and they really liked the recycled art with bottlecaps. Some of the kids started collecting caps for me already.

On Tuesday, Malika and I were invited for tea at a retired couple’s house. They’ve both been to Mecca and are referred to as L’Hej and L’Heja. Their son Jalil is an established artist specializing in recycled metal sculptures. He lives with his parents and has transformed the Moroccan villa into a veritable piece of art. The doors and walls of the courtyards are painted vibrant shades of blue, with ornate moldings and welded metal decorating every corner. L’Hej, is big supporter of Naima and put her in contact with CRDT. He heard of my recycled art ideas and took me to meet Jalil at his art shop in town. He indeed does remarkable work, which he’s exposed numerous times around Morocco. We drank tea in his office and discussed the possibility of working together. He also liked my bottlecap idea and wants to create a sculpture with them. He’s ready to work with me and let me learn some of his trade, which I’m super excited about!

Running in Lalla Takerkoust

I didn’t wait long to communicate to Naima and my host family that I love hiking and running. As advised by Peace Corps, it’s best to gage the level of conservatism in a locale before going out running on the first day. They were very receptive to the idea and supported by wish to run the Marrakech Marathon next year. Naima was excited to hear I was a runner and said she would accompany me in the mornings. She’d wanted to start but was scared to go by herself, especially because if the villagers saw her out and about alone in athletic gear they’d start making stories about rendezvous’ and promiscuity. We decided to meet at 6am, and sure enough, she was at my door at 6 sharp. I ran and she walked most of the way, but she loved it and diligently accompanied me every morning. Word got around and two other women joined us for an hour run/walk. Naima says at least five more have expressed interest in running with us! There’s a basketball court at the school fields that isn’t used much as the boys prefer soccer. Some girls play basketball during gym class. I told Malika’s 14 year old niece I liked basketball and would like to play with them sometime and she came back from school one day with a petition of 15 girls who want to start basketball training with me on Saturdays!