Jazz au Chellah

So this actually happened a week or two ago (Friday the 13^th), but I’m just trying to catch up in the wake of my complete disregard for chronology. In an attempt to immerse ourselves in the diverse variety of cultural experiences that Rabat has to offer, we got tickets to a jazz festival happening called Jazz au Chellah.

Moroccans (at least in Rabat) are actually very into jazz. I have none of the knowledge necessary to seriously speculate on the origins of their interest, but it seems to have filtered into the culture here as a European import.  So basically there are a few degrees of separation there from what we would regard as typical (and originally American) jazz.  The Chellah was packed, with people sitting on the stairs and on the ground in front of the stage.  We couldn’t even get tickets for the first night because it was sold out in advance (that adventure is detailed at the end of this post). 

Brief side note:  The Chellah is this ancient castle in Rabat that has been converted into a high brow event space and concert venue.  And it’s gorgeous.  

Jazz au Chellah was an event sponsored by the European Union, and the European influence was very much evident in the crowd demographics and performing artists.  In general, in Morocco, Darija (Moroccan Arabic for those who didn’t care enough to read my entry on Arabic) is the most commonly spoken language, though it is sometimes dropped in schools, in favor of Fus’ha or French.  French, even since the colonial occupation of France ended in the 1950s, is often regarded as the language of education, erudition, and affluence.  The MC’s and artists spoke almost exclusively in French, and even English.  Most members of the crowd, including native Moroccans, spoke in French, English, or Spanish. It’s an interestingly subtle reflection of the linguistic divisions that are continually re-asserted here by the influence of European culture.  That’s my take anyway. 

The three bands slated to play for that Friday were from Italy, Croatia, and Morocco, respectively (and theoretically were all jazz, given that this was a jazz concert).  The Italian band, the Nuevo Tango Ensamble, was really enjoyable.  I wouldn’t necessarily call them “jazz,” but I’m also not familiar with European style jazz.  They were energetic, had a nice stage presence, told some jokes in French that I didn’t entirely understand, and just generally had a nice sound.  Interestingly, they did sound very “Italian” (whatever that may mean – gondolas and Venice and whatever).  Their trio was piano, guitar, accordion, and they did well with their hour-long set.  I’ve uploaded some short videos of their sets below (no promises on quality).

The second band, the Tamara Obrovak Quartet, is perhaps beyond description.  And not in a positive way.  Toward the start of their set, it was fine.  Not really jazz again, but more like Croatian folk music or something with melodramatic singing, bass guitar, piano, and drums.  The drummer seemed actually to be very talented. But the singer really started to kill the vibes for everyone pretty quickly.  Technically, the Tamara Obrovac Quartet (starring Tamara Obrovac, her distinctive keening voice, and really painful posing) was supposed to play their hour set and then the Moroccan band would go on.  But they wouldn’t leave the stage.  I’m not even joking.  After close to two hours of Tamara wailing, the Moroccan band members came out and participated in some very strange mash-ups (apparently in an attempt to get at least some of their slated stage time), including a rendition of a song that could only be titled “Pop Star ” (video below).  While the video is only a minute or so long, I can assure you that the song went on much, much longer, with many more repetitions of the words “pop star” (though with a Croatian accent it sounds unfortunately like “poop star”….).  We were actually some of the last audience members to bail (Tamara really cleared the stands), after giving up the hope that we’d actually get to see the Moroccan band (the Rachid Zéroual Ensemble).

Tamara Obrovak literally cleared the stands

So long story short, we went to a jazz fest at this really cool castle thing, heard a good band and a bad band, and never really got to hear Moroccan jazz. 

A follow-up on my earlier mention that we couldn’t get in the first night: 

We actually kind of got the giant castle doors shut in our faces, along with about a hundred other people.  So our little group set off to find milkshakes.  Since clearly if you can’t have jazz, you should have chocolate milkshakes instead.  There ended up being a really unfortunate incident in which a glass tabletop shattered all over our feet at a café, when the waiter tried to move it.  And milkshakes in Morocco are terrible (like weird chocolate milk with a lump of ice cream at the bottom).  But some vendor gave some of us free flowers.  So there’s that.

More adventures to come. We are headed out to the Sahara today. (Yeah, that means camels.) 

But we don’t have internet out here (even with magic wifi sticks), so who knows when this post will go up.

Top Ten Worst Moroccan Pickup Lines (so far)

In light of the previous post discussing idiosyncratic Moroccan customs and unusual male behavior, I present my commentary on…

Top Ten Moroccan Pickup Lines:

1. You’re a beautiful starship.

Borrowing random English words from Top 40 song lyrics (especially when you count on the love goddess herself, Nicki Minaj) is a surefire way to get yourself a date!

2. I like your face.

Honesty and directness are important when establishing a relationship.

3. Qué hora es?

If the foreign girl didn't turn around when you said salam, maybe she speaks Spanish.  Throw out any phrase you know and she’ll be impressed by your mastery of languages.

4. You are Britney Spears?

Choose a popular celebrity to liken your foreign beauty to.  She’ll appreciate your knowledge of American culture, and you might even get her to laugh!

5. *pretend to take picture* Oh sorry, you’re too beautiful, I need to remember.

Never be afraid of dramatic gestures, and consider throwing in some elements of Bollywood drama.

6. American beauty!

Identify her nationality and woo her with the basics.  Flattery is your most important tool!  

7. Want to see magic trick? Ah but I am joking, I only wanted to meet you.

…this one doesn't work anywhere…

8. Bonjour-bonjour-bonjour

She didn't speak Spanish?  Go for French next.  And she probably just didn't hear you the first time.

9. Wait, please, I have a secret to tell you.

Remember that women are mysterious and love secrets. Get her attention, and then reel her in with your suave looks and natural charm.

10. Ayayayayay

…just…no.

Moroccan Customs: An American Perspective

To preface an upcoming post, I’m going to attempt to explain some of the more evident cultural customs in Morocco, and how they might differ from our own customs in the U.S.  I’m going to do this from an anthropologically observatory perspective, so it’s going to be pretty clinical and maybe even guide book-esque, like the last post.  But here we go:

Many Moroccans will greet one another with a kiss on each cheek (both men and women), though some men may limit the interaction to a hug or a handshake.  Young women in particular will also greet a new female acquaintance with the kiss on each cheek (which can be surprising the first time, for those of us who like our personal space). Good friends may kiss cheeks multiple times in a show of affection.  And when walking together, girls may link arms, and children, regardless of gender, often hold hands.

Mini history lesson: Women traditionally remained inside their homes as much as possible, since only those who had to work actually had to go outside.  Being able to remain inside one’s home was a status symbol, and indicated a husband who was able to provide for the whole household.  The private sphere was the domain of women, and the public sphere belonged to men (think U.S. or U.K. 50+ years ago). 

Some of those behaviors carry over into more contemporary society, though they are not mandated by any kind of civil law, the way they might be in countries like Saudi Arabia, where conservative/reactionary versions of Islamic shari’a are the basis of national law.  (Morocco’s legal system is not based in shari’a, though Islam is the state religion.)  So out of historical habit, men prefer to meet friends for tea or coffee in cafes (sometimes daily, for hours), while women prefer to do the same in their homes, and may spend a lot of time either visiting or entertaining in the afternoons. 

By the same reasoning, the streets are often male-dominated.  Most shoppers are women (shout out to cross-cultural stereotypes!), but only a small fraction of vendors are female.  But, women often move through the streets with a purpose, whether it is for shopping, to get to work or school, or to visit friends.  The groups hanging out on street corners or loitering around vendors’ stalls in the Medina are all men (or boys) (or boys who think they’re men).

Given the relatively rapid social and political changes Morocco has experienced (the former King Hassan II’s reign encompassed the infamous and brutal “Years of Lead”), people are struggling with the re-definition of rights, speech, and public spaces.  A history of arranged marriages and socially mandated sex segregation makes the dynamic between young men and women… strange... incredibly, incredibly strange…  Young men often call out in the streets after a girl they like (not unlike American frat boys), hoping she’ll stop to talk, and a young woman can choose to ignore, berate, or flirt with the catcaller, depending on her interests. 

Moving on, we’re going to talk about daily routine.  Breakfast is generally tea or coffee, with some sort of bread and spreads.  Lunch and dinner can be pretty much anything, though couscous on Friday at lunch is a well-respected modern tradition.  Dinner is the meal most different from that in the U.S., by virtue of its timing. Dinner in most households won’t start until at least 9:30pm, and can be as late as 11:30pm or even midnight.  A snack might be served in the late afternoon/ early evening.

Perhaps because dinner is so late (or perhaps dinner is late for this reason…?) people are often out in the streets long after most people in the U.S. would have been inside and asleep.  Families, kids, high schoolers, anyone might still be out and about.  Most parents here don’t have the same idea of bedtime routines many American parents subscribe to, and prefer to let children stay up until they fall asleep by themselves.  (It helps that people of all ages take a lot of naps.)

And now the time has come to talk about bathrooms.  Toilets can be either turkish or western (if you don’t know the difference, just have fun googling it).  Most (but not all!) public toilets are western.  And toilet paper seems to be optional with the turkish variety.  Showers are also interesting, to say the least.  The only option in some homes (even in the city) is a bucket shower.  However, many places (including the hotel we first stayed in) will have a ‘real’ shower, with a removable showerhead and a shower that is basically open to the bathroom.  No shower stall or curtain or door.  WATER EVERYWHERE.  Part of the reasoning behind the very basic shower facilities is that most people go to hammam (the communal bathhouses) once a week or so for crazy super cleaning.  In the hammam, there are multiple rooms of varying temperature, and people scrub themselves down with special exfoliating gloves and “black soap” (aka weird goop).

Black Soap
(just for illustrative purposes - not my picture)

   

A couple of last minute, random things.  You have to be careful with compliments.  For example, telling someone that their hair looks nice or whatever should be followed by “tabarakallah,” a Darija invocation of God’s protection against the evil eye.  There’s a strange meshing of pre-Islamic superstition and old Islamic religiosity in traditions like this.  The idea of evil eye (that someone will bring down bad luck upon you through their envy, or you will attract the notice of malicious forces with beauty) pre-dates the arrival of Islam in Morocco, and the greater Maghreb area. (Maghreb refers to this culturally unusual sector of North Africa, including Morocco, Algeria, Western Sahara, and Mauritania).  The Hand of Fatima – which also provides protection against the evil eye – is another such complicated symbol.  Also known as hamsa, it’s a multi-cultural symbol of protection, which existed prior to Islam but was later re-appropriated by various religions (also called the Hand of Mary or the Hand of Miriam, depending on whether you’re Muslim, Christian, or Jewish).  Anyway, the Hand of Fatima (Fatima being one of the Prophet Mohammed’s daughters) is frequently incorporated into jewelry, though more often for the sake of tourists than actual Moroccan buyers.  “Inshallah,” like “tabarakallah,” is another frequent invocation and simply means “God willing” – like, “See you in class tomorrow, inshallah.”

Hand of Fatima

Anyway, that’s a pretty substantial accounting of the differences and idiosyncrasies that will interest most people, and it makes for a pretty long post.  There will be more about the role that Islam plays in society here, and my understanding of government, the monarchy, and the reign of the late King Hassan II at a later date. 

Hassan II Mosque

Time to get out your guidebooks. The Hassan II Mosque in Casablanca is the largest in Morocco, and one of the few that non-Muslims can enter (though we unfortunately missed the visiting hours for the prayer hall). It's massive and absolutely stunning, and actually hangs out over the Atlantic Ocean to the northwest.  The tower is incredible, and makes this the tallest religious building in the world (though it doesn't nearly compare in physical size to the mosque in Mecca).  In addition to the mosque itself, the grounds are expansive and include a garden, a library of religious texts, hamman bathhouses, dozens of elaborately mosaic'ed fountains, and a traditional Islamic madrasa.  The site was only completed in 1993 (after 7 years of construction), as a self-commissioned (and self-titled) tribute to the the controversial monarch King Hassan II (a separate entry to be provided on this figure and his legacy).  The entirety of the grounds feature elaborate mosaic tiles, marble pillars, and intricately carved stone archways. The majority of the fountains were not running, though those nearest the prayer hall could be used for symbolic ablutions. Restoration and repair work are ongoing, and the seaside terrace is currently inaccessible to the public. We were present for the 5pm call to prayer, once of five times prayers will echo out across the city each day (a brief recording will go up shortly). 

Food: Part 1

Let's be honest. Food is one of my favorite things.  And architecture and language are all peachy keen, but food is most likely what I'll end up talking about a lot. So be ready for the longest post yet.

Moroccans love their spices, and a lot of dishes are heavily spiced. Which I love.  Not all of the foods and spices are easily translated or explained using their Arabic/Darija names. But I'm going to do my best.

And in no particular order, and with phonetic darija names:

Ginger -- S'kain'javir
Ginger is relatively new to Morocco, having migrated here from more eastern cuisine.  Even given the preponderance of souks (markets) and fresh spices, you can't get fresh ginger here anywhere.  Put it in couscous, put it in whatever. Be spicy.

Sugar -- Sucar
Sugar is heavily used here, even in what we might consider to be savory dishes. For example, bastella has chicken in sheets of phyllo dough with a layer of chopped almonds (with tons of melted butter and powdered sugar - sooo good), topped with more sugar and cinnamon. I made it once myself in the U.S. and had to approximate some things, then had it again here, and it is AMAZING (more of a special occasion dish, though, since it's a lot of time and effort).  But sugar might even show up in basics like rice or couscous. Or as a questionably granular ingredient in salad dressing...

Saffron -- Savrah (also basically the name for the color yellow, for obvious reasons)
Anyone familiar with spices knows that saffron can be super expensive, and will give foods it's distinctive yellow tint. Moroccans might include a little, little bit ("shwiya") in a dish like couscous (they are so serious about Friday couscous, it's not even funny).

Tea with Mint -- Achai wa Na-Naah
In the South in the U.S., it's a given that you get sweet tea.  Here, it's mint tea, no other options, no questions asked, period. Hot green tea base, with tons of mint leaves, and a cloyingly heavy dose of sugar. Also pretty good. I don't even like tea and I could drink this. This mint tea will most certainly be served at every single cafe you go to, and is a breakfast beverage of choice for many people. And pretty much any other meal, any time of day.  People love mint tea.

Coffee - Kahua
Coffee can be ordered "wa h'lieb" and/or "wa sucar" here (with milk and/or sugar). Also a popular breakfast drink, and served at any cafe.  It comes spiced with things like cardamom, cinnamon, nutmeg, and even cloves, pepper, and ginger. It all depends on where the coffee comes from, and who makes it.

(your milk and sugar coffee comes with extra sugar, in case you didn't have quite enough)

To be clear, for true coffee drinkers out there, coffee here is more like hot milk and sugar with espresso and more sugar. People tend to add less water to the actual coffee component, so it's thicker. And then add tons and tons of hot milk and sugar. You'll have a tough time here if you take your coffee black, and most people won't understand what you even mean.

 now let's diagram that coffee ratio

Couscous -- TsukTsuk
-couscous, onions ("bas'lah"), sugar, water (mah), honey (acel), salt (mel'ha), ginger, chickpeas, chicken, etc.
Rule #1: Never actually cook your couscous in the water. Get it wet little by little, so it starts to absorb the water and clump up, then cook it in a sieved double boiler, over the onions and chickpeas. Then take it out, add more water, and cook it again.
Rule #2: To eat the couscous, you clump it up in your fingers (right hand only), and form a little bite sized ball. It's a serious skill to be able to make it into the little ball and not have it fall apart, or have it be so mashed it's inedible.
Couscous is served by basically everyone on Fridays (usually for lunch), and is put out in a communal bowl. And everyone eats it as described in Rule #2. Couscous is so serious here that we get out of class early on Fridays to go home and eat couscous with our homestay families, and so the whole staff at our study abroad center can eat couscous all together.

Chickpeas -- Homaas (...hummus anyone)
Chickpeas can be a go-to side dish, and also appear in couscous or chicken.  Personally, I'm more a fan of hummus than just chickpeas, but that's more of a true Mediterranean or Middle Eastern dish, and isn't widely available here (since Morocco is technically North African).

Prickly Pear -- H'India
H'india (aka cactus fruit, cactus fig, or Indian fig in English) is the fruit from the prickly pear cactus, and only the yellow/orange variety is found in Morocco. I was lucky to get to try it, because it's a summer fruit and is almost out of season here now. The outside is cut off (it's like a thick peel with cactus spines), and you only eat the orange inner fruit.  It's hard to get used to because it's very seedy, and you just swallow the seeds. (And I know anyone in my generation saw the Rugrats episode where Chuckie grew a watermelon in his stomach from eating the seeds.) But regardless, it's a nice cool fruit, refreshing, and reminds me a little of the aftertaste of honeydew. Just try not to bite down hard.

Bread -- Hobs
I'm going to just have to do a separate post about bread. There is so much. And I really like bread.
The bread here in Morocco is an eclectic mix of french baguettes, round loaves often used to eat with (our traditional utensils are fewer and far between here), fry bread (the m'smmen is unbelievable), rolls, and all kinds of assorted goodies. I just can't even right now. It needs more time, more explanation, and more pictures than I can give it here.

My favorite breads (to be discussed in obsessive detail at another time):

Cheese -- Formage (very similar to French fromage)
Morocco was a French colony until the 1950s and likely retains some of the French love of cheese. In particular, Laughing Cow cheese (La Vache Qui Rit) is ubiquitous.  Hotels, homes, stores, cafes all have this cheese, and it's frequently (read: obsessively) eaten on bread, especially an open baguette. The plane served us lunch on the way from Paris to Morocco. Chicken, couscous, and bread with laughing cow cheese.

La vache qui rit cheese is literally sold everywhere

Ketchup
There is no darija word for ketchup, and I just put it on here because it's also so beloved and omnipresent. But it's all a lie. Ketchup isn't really ketchup. If you've been paying attention, you can probably guess that the extra ingredient is is EVEN MORE SUGAR. (isn't ketchup already basically sugar and tomato and vinegar?) Anyway. It doesn't look or taste quite right (to me, since I'm such a ketchup connoisseur), though no one can tell me what might me in it.

See that? Not the right consistency. Plus tons of sugar.