Jillian C. York » Maroc

Couscous, Djellaba, Tajine.

Jillian — Thu, 22 Apr 2010 13:18:21 +0000

Julia Roberts, McDonald’s, Mickey Mouse.

This was how a young Moroccan student of mine described the United States to me. Images from his youth: Pretty Woman, glimpsed illicitly on satellite TV as a boy, or downloaded by BitTorrent. McDonald’s, which arrived in his hometown when he was eight, a beacon of American consumerism. Mickey Mouse, drawn on medina walls, advertising a kindergarten down the street. If those are his images of America, then they are too my images of Morocco, mixed with salty black olives bought from the local hanout and Amazir wine, hidden in paper bags for the journey home.

I am not Moroccan, and so my musings on Moroccan identity exist only from the perspective as an outsider. Moroccan identity has been fetishized and orientalized by Westerners since the time of Edith Wharton, and continues to be. In popular travel writing, Moroccans are described as mystical beings, devoutly attached to Islam but yearning for modernity, in love with everything Francophone, and confused, caught somewhere between east and west, tradition and modernity. To them, Moroccans fit one singular, albeit complex, mold. In my classroom, Moroccan students themselves would often refer to the “Moroccan mentality,” an intangible thing that needn’t be defined, as everyone knew quite what it was. Everyone except me, that is.

When I first settled into my life in Morocco six years ago, I was indeed struck by certain paradoxes: How my newfound friends could pray the Maghrib prayer then go out clubbing that night, stumbling home intoxicated, just to start over again the next morning. How a female friend would tell me she longed to wear hijab but simply couldn’t, because her parents wouldn’t allow it. But with time, these things seem far less strange; they are small patches in the fabric of Moroccan society, things we just live with.

At the same time, I recall being frustrated with the stagnancy of discussion around certain topics. It took almost a year for a close friend to admit to me that she was an atheist, and even then, it’s still our little secret. And forget bringing up the Western Sahara–despite global opinion to the contrary, nearly every Moroccan I’ve ever met believes it to be wholly and unarguably part of their country.

But over time, the diversity that I at first thought was lacking made itself apparent to me, as I navigated Morocco’s tightly woven hip hop scene, met atheists and punks, lesbians, and young Sufi hopefuls. What was nearly impossible to crack on the surface slowly revealed itself to me in my friendships, and as time passed, I found that much of what keeps these “secrets” hidden is a desire to keep up appearances…not so different from life in my own country.

Ultimately, however, there is a unifying thread amongst Moroccans that is hard to put a finger on. It is made up of thousands of small parts: it is in the overwhelming sense of hospitality, the willingness to offer–and drink–a glass of mint tea with a stranger. It is in the language, the darija of the streets that puzzles other Arabs but which holds the key to so many doors in Morocco. And yes, it is in couscous, and djellabas, and tajines, things with roots across the region but that have become so quintessentially Moroccan, synonymous really, just as (for better or for worse) Julia Roberts, McDonald’s, and Mickey Mouse are to the United States.

What Morocco is not, however, is a simple place stuck in time, contrary to what many travel writers would have you believe. It is too easy, as many travel writers have found, to stick with the same simplistic tropes: “a place stuck in time,” “a disorienting and surreal mix of old and new.” In focusing on the contrasts, one misses out on what makes Morocco so fantastic: its people and their ability and willingness to reassess identity as time goes on. As Morocco grows and develops, so does Moroccan identity.

Pregnancy as Provocation

Jillian — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 19:52:24 +0000

In 1991, when Demi Moore posed nude and pregnant on the cover of Vanity Fair, there was significant outrage. While Moore’s intent was to show the beauty of pregnancy as well as her “anti-glamour” attitude, she also succeeded in angering conservatives across the country and pleasing feminists, who saw it as an act of empowerment. At the same time, she sparked a trend that continues to this day, with stars like Christina Aguilera and Britney Spears emulating Moore’s iconic pose on the covers of magazines. In the US, the “baby bump” has become almost passé.

This November, 2009, Moroccan television newscaster Nadia Larguet (of 2M) took to the cover of Femmes du Maroc with the same pose, making the statement (as my friend cabalamuse stated), “I am pregnant, I am beautiful, I exist.” In a country where out-of-wedlock pregnancies are completely taboo (but on the rise), where women still die in childbirth on semi-frequent basis in some rural areas, and where abortion is illegal but not so hard to find, this is quite a statement.

And yet in some ways, Morocco makes being a mother easier. Working women get more time off than their American counterparts, breastfeeding in public (with a blanket to cover) is normal, and there is an expectation that the extended family will help raise the child.

The article* accompanying the provocative cover dug deep into serious issues: of maternal health, of abortion, of teenage pregnancy. And it couldn’t have come at a better time; Morocco is in many ways waking up to the realities it now faces: Just this week, Aicha Ech Channa, Association Solidarité Feminine, an organization that provides services to unmarried women with children, was awarded a $1 million prize by The University of St. Thomas and the Opus Prize Foundation for her work in Morocco. Ech Channa’s project, though not without its challenges, has been extremely successful; I remember first reading about it in a copy of Glamour my parents sent to me while I was living in Morocco in 2007 (that article is here).

After finally reading the full article inside Femmes du Maroc, I first saw incongruence between the cover image and the contents of the article; it seemed to me an unnecessary provocation, like including “sex” in a blog post tag simply to get hits (which works, by the by). But the more I saw it (and it’s been popping up in blogs all over the place), the more it seemed to me a revolutionary stance, just like that of Demi eighteen years ago: “I’m pregnant, I’m beautiful, I exist.” And even considering local sentiment and sensitivities, which shy away from nudity, public displays of affection, scantily-dressed women, I, like cabalamuse, would like to make the case that this is indeed revolutionary: It is a woman, standing up, unashamed and unafraid, in a country where “television channels are flipped at the mere sight of a man an a woman kissing, where, in neighborhood foodstuff stores, [and] menstrual pads are stuffed in a black plastic bag to conceal them from the embarassed looks of customers.” It is revolutionary because it is so far out of the realm of what is acceptable, and out of the realm of what is (publicly, anyway) considered beautiful. And it is, beautiful.

*If anyone would like the full article (in French), I can email a scanned copy.

Religion is Personal

Jillian — Thu, 17 Sep 2009 21:24:34 +0000

In a post I wrote recently for Global Voices, I covered the efforts of the Mouvement Alternatif pour les Libertés Individuelles, a new Moroccan activist group that recently made headlines for eating in public during Ramadan. In effect, they broke the law; Article 222 of the Moroccan Penal Code stipulates that a Muslim who openly breaks the fast in public during Ramadan can be punished by one to six months’ imprisonment and a fine. This is not the first time someone has been arrested – in past years, non-fasters have been arrested and made scapegoats by local police – but it is certainly the first time in recent history that a group has set out to protest the law.

A little legal background is in order – although Morocco is a Muslim country in many senses of the term, its legal system is only partly based in Shari’a, and many laws which would seem to be go unenforced. For example, it is legal for alcohol to be sold in Morocco, but only to tourists and non-Muslim citizens of the country (e.g. Jews). Nevertheless, in most cities, it’s quite easy for a Moroccan Muslim to purchase alcohol, except during Ramadan, where a foreign passport is required (and even then, the foreign passport must not be from a known Muslim country; I know of more than one situation where an Egyptian or Syrian friend was refused at the liquor store).

There is, of course, a great portion of Moroccan society that follows the guidelines of Islam closely and neither drinks nor breaks any other rules (whether outlined in the letter of the law or not). Right off the bat, I’ll say this: they’re not my concern.

What concerns me is this: There is also a great portion of society that drinks, and does other things that are haram, but are condemning the protesters for disrespecting Islam. This attitude brings to light something I noticed in Morocco: That Ramadan seems to make everyone an expert on Islam, and a great Muslim. Many of those who might ignore religion throughout the year will at the very least fast (or give the illusion of fasting, even to their own families), often taking it further, lecturing their friends who don’t pray or chastising them for not making it to the mosque. Lest you think I’m exaggerating, I’ve witnessed this myself numerous times. In August, I’d be clubbing in Marrakesh with Moroccan friends, drinking and dancing; as soon as Ramadan started, I was the black sheep.

To clarify, I’m not judging people for their level of piety, rather, I’m peeved at their hypocrisy.

Of course, the bigger problem is with the law. Laws against publicly eating during Ramadan only apply to Morocco’s Muslims, however, there is no official determination on who is Muslim and who is not as, unlike in some countries, Morocco does not denote religion on its passports or identity cards. As blogger Charlotte says:

In recognition of the fact that not all Moroccans are Muslims, the law officially applies only to those who abide by the tenets of Islam. But the issue is this: how does one determine, exactly, who is Muslim, and who is not? The Moroccan Carte Nationale (National Identity Card, affectionately called “la carte”) does not document a citizen’s religious affiliation, and as far as I know there is no other moment or way in which such affiliation is recorded. In the end, it is simply assumed (and every much expected) that all Moroccans are, in fact, Muslim.* And that is where the problem lies: without official documentation, religious affiliation is ultimately judged by appearance. If you look and behave as a Moroccan, you are expected to abide by Islamic proscriptions…

* According to official statistics, about 99% is, in fact, Muslim. Of course this includes all those whose affiliation with Islam is no more than cultural.

Most of the blog posts and comments I’ve seen from Moroccans and Moroccophiles on this subject support the legal action being taken against the protesters. The comments on Global Voices, however, tended in the other direction, and tend to be closer to my own position on the matter, which is that religion is a personal matter and not an issue of the state.

One comment to that effect which caught my eye is from Rachid, who says:

I am hoping that people who fast are doing it because they want to honor their faith and no because restuarants are closed and people are not allowed to eat in public.

That is precisely the point. No matter what Islamists might want, Morocco is, for all intents and purposes, a secular-leaning country. Whatever the ideal might be (and I don’t believe theocracy is it), Morocco is what it is, and nothing is going to stop the tide of secularism. And while there are certainly valid arguments against aspects of western influence, to me, this isn’t one of them.

Moreover, the protesters in this case are not, in fact, advocating for everyone to run outside and eat publicly during Ramadan. To do so would be disrespectful and is something that even most tourists shy away from. What they are advocating for is in fact a noble cause: an end to the hypocrisy, a change in the law, and a step forward for personal freedoms.