Ode to Babs

She hates to be called that.

However, as I’m about to spout much mush about my adoration of her, I couldn’t help it. Really. Sorry, Barbie. OH... she hates that, too!

Somewhere in time I read or heard that if one dies with five true friends, he is rich. I’ve often considered my extreme wealth in the form of exceptional friends gained in high school, college, and beyond. If any of you are reading this and wondering why I’ve never written an ode to you, perhaps it’s because I like to shop for gifts much more in America than here. Also, I can’t say I’ve ever known a friend who I thought would appreciate an ode in quite the way Barbara will! To get to the point... In Casablanca I have added to my friendship coffers with Barbara Stringer. And today is Barbara’s birthday.

It’s tempting to stop here with a simple “Happy Birthday” so daunting is the task of writing an ode. I shall do my best...

Barbara is caring, sensitive, zany, elegant, bright, gentle, fair, happy, enchanting, loyal, thoughtful, lively, dedicated, wise, worldly, witty, generous. I could go on. Basically, Barbara is downright delightful.

I am so happy to have met her. Getting to know her over the last year has been my tremendous pleasure. She has entertained me with her stories, worried about me when I was down, helped me when I was overloaded, and shared in some of my year’s simple and pleasurable moments. I enjoy her, and I seek her out.

I began this task with the intention of telling a bit of her story, for she has packed a dizzying amount of LIFE into her years. But perhaps I shall leave you with the hope that someday you will meet Barbara, and be thrilled with the stories from the source.

Perhaps cliché, but I feel that knowing her, being near her, not only raises the quality and enjoyment of my life... actually inspires me to be a better person. I hope that she takes it as a compliment when I say that sometimes I feel inadequate around her; she is so very good. I aspire to rise to her example.

Barbara, happiest of birthdays.

STORY OF JOB -- 2 of 3

May 2007 – July 2008

Spring semester 2007, and we were busy making plans for more improvements and more growth in Agadir for the 07-08 school year when the bomb was dropped… our proprietor was backing out. Moulay Said told us in mid-May that he was having heart problems and would have to be gone much of the year for treatment in France. He just could not take the stress of worrying about the fate of our fledgling school. Fair, but utterly disappointing… not to mention we suddenly had no jobs. So, we began to feel out ways we could keep things going. We spoke to the parents and told them we were going to try to open a school on our own. We visited the Center for Regional Investment with our business plan, we visited villas with a real estate agent, we spoke to the parents and other local educators, all trying to make it work. We contacted a school in Casablanca that we had previously visited for advice, and spoke at great length about the option of franchising their school. We had one parent interested in investing the money we needed for start-up. And in June, our boss asked us to stop trying. He was still stressed out over the whole shebang. As Denise and I had started with him, he felt that anything we did on our own would ultimately be traced back to him. Turns out he didn’t so much have all of the appropriate permissions to do what we were doing in Agadir, and he was terrified of someone asking too many questions. So, in June 2007, Denise and I accepted that we were jobless, gave up the exciting and terrifying thought of beginning our own international school, and started to consider… what next?

We began the “Shannon and Denise International Job Search.” Very organized and efficient, I must say. We created a form on which to record the contact name, details about the job, what we had sent in application, etc. We had both just been married at that point, and the boys are limited in their easy options for travel. They could go to Turkey or Tunisia with no special visas, so we applied to schools there. We also hoped that if we got a job in a middle east country or Egypt that perhaps we could sort out visas easily enough, so we applied far and wide. We contacted that Casablanca school just in case, and they did have a few openings. So, we began talking to CV, the Principal, and HT, the Director. Bit of foreshadowing for you: Little did we know that by the time we visited the school to sign contracts, both of these men would be gone.

We were torn. We got replies… several from Turkey. Something in us wanted to venture outside of Morocco (and the boys were keen to see other parts of the world). However, in the end, my father’s practicality lives strong in me, and we began focusing on our possibilities with the school in Casablanca. One of the greatest benefits of choosing to go to Casablanca is that we had the opportunity to sign contracts for the 2007-08 school year before we went home to the states for a summer 07 visit (Our previous boss in Agadir honored his part of our contract to buy us a ticket home in the summer). On late June, we knew that the principal in Casablanca, CV, was leaving for the summer. At that point, our dealings began to be with the Business Manager, AG. We negotiated our contracts with him by phone, and traveled to Casablanca on July 7, 2007 to sign contracts. Denise as a music teacher, and me as an elementary classroom teacher. We travelled overnight by bus/train, and arrived in Casa at 8:30ish am. We found a bathroom in which to freshen ourselves, and then we took a taxi to the school.

Side note: If you notice my hesitancy to type the name of the school, that’s because I don’t want anyone associated with the school to be able to search the internet about the school and find this site. I’d much rather keep it a secret and be able to talk about my co-workers without worry!

Back to the story. We arrived at the school in Casa, and we met with AG and the founder of the school, SK. At this point CV, former principal, and HT, former director, were gone for good, and they had already hired a new Principal, a woman named Jodi, to be delivered in late July. We chatted about our experiences in Agadir, and what they were looking to do in Casa. They also want to franchise the school into other cities, so that’s one reason they were very interested in us… our experience in starting/running the school. They discussed the possibility of sending us to another city in Morocco in the future, perhaps back to Agadir, to open a new school. So, as we discussed the plans in Casa, they let me know that they had considered my experience and now envisioned my role with them as working with the administration in the area of student discipline, etc. That sounded interesting to me, and we continued talking as they gave us a tour of the school. They also showed us the apartment upstairs, as that is what they were proposing for housing. They said they were out of apartments, and that if we were both to receive school housing the four of us would have to share once again. We walked downstairs to fill out contracts, and when it came time for AG to type in my job title, he turned to the owner and asked what to call me. SK thought for a moment and replied, “Assistant Principal.”

Wow.

STORY OF JOB -- 1 of 3

Jan 2006 - May 2007

Most of you know this story… So here’s a very brief recap. On New Year’s Day 2006 I got a call from my friend Denise who had recently moved from Ireland to Morocco. The tiny start up school that she was working for was losing one of two teachers. On January 24, 2006, I arrived in Agadir, Morocco to teach for the spring semester. It was a one-room type setup with seven students aged 3 – 6 years. I usually get really involved in projects, and this was no exception. By the time the end of the semester rolled around in June 2006, I had decided to return for the 06-07 school year. Perhaps my involvement with Hassan helped make that decision.

So, I went home for 3 weeks in the summer of 06, and I returned to Agadir to teach the massive 1st grade class… 3 students. Our overall enrollment had grown from 7 to 11, and we had 2 preschool students and a kindergarten class of 6. The proprietor of the school, Moulay Said, was the director of the Moroccan private school which housed our operation. As his trust in us grew, he was more and more hands off. He would wander downstairs once a week or so and ask us what we needed. That left us, Denise and me, to manage and operate our little school. We began the process for accreditation, we wrote promotional material, we visited the governor of the city and spoke with personnel from the US embassy on behalf of the school. I remember the most challenging aspect being our daily dealings with the parents of our 11 students. One was very down to earth, a few were always late, one drank too much, a couple were vicious gossips, one was an elderly single dad, and one…. oh, that one… very opinionated, very prejudiced, very controlling, very concerned father. I thought he was going to drive me to drink before my experience with him was finished. I wish I had kept a record of my dealings with him. There’s no way I could piece it all together at this point and convey the real madness of it.

I just can't count the times he said something that left me staring at him in bewilderment... blink... blinkblink.

2008

Different languages in different alphabets have always facinated me. How can someone read information from those beautiful decorations? Does someone who does not know the English alphabet see the same decorative beauty (I doubt it.)? I looked for a list of translations of "Happy New Year" into different languages and alphabets, but I couldn't find a simple "Happy New Year." What I found at http://www1.ocn.ne.jp/~infinite/pages/_Earth.htm is close. "May peace prevail on Earth" is a pretty good New Year's wish, no?

So, yes, may you all have a beautiful, peaceful, and prosperous year filled with...

happy moments

laughter

successes

confidence

love

friendship

understanding

and blessings of every sort!

Arabic

Armenian

Bengali

Bulgarian

Burmese

Cambodian

Chinese

Dari

Divehi

Dzongkha

Georgian

Greek

Hebrew

Hindi

Irish

Italian

Korean

Kurdish

Lao

Maori

Mongolian

Nepali

Sinharese

Spanish

Tamil

Thai

Literal Realization of the Family Tree

How do you know when you've really been accepted into the family? When you've got an orange.

This past week, we had one week fall break with no school. Hassan and I left Casablanca on Saturday night toward Agadir and on to his mother's village for a couple of days. The house in which his mother lives has a courtyard of sorts in the center. A square area mostly open to the sky. At the center of that square area is a square planter of about 1 yard square, built into the concrete floor. In that square planter is a small orange tree. Currently there is a small crop of ripening oranges on the tree. Varying sizes and shades of green. Now the fun part -- everyone in the family has been allocated a specific orange on the tree. Everybody knows whose is whose and all are watching them ripen in hopes that his/hers will be the sweetest. Rumor has it that each year's small harvest is indeed sweet. Part of the fun of it is the gamble involved. I've never before considered the natural selection of fruit, but Hassan's orange broke open and fell off the tree early in the game.

I'm sure I'll be forced to share now.

This is a photo taken the last time we were in the village, August, just before we moved to Casablanca.

L to R: Family Orange Tree, Hassan's sister Keltoum, niece Fatima, me, sister Aicha.

Spices Gone Wild

One great thing to take home from Morocco for souvenir (and personal use) is spices. The spices are usually sold at open markets in open baskets and bins... usually piled up appealingly, as illustrated below.


Some info from a website called gapadventures: There is something called Ras al-hanut, or ‘best of the shop’ – a complex spice blend used in many Moroccan dishes. It’s subtly curry-like with a spicy yet floral fragrance and robust but not overpowering flavour. Spice shops often employ experts who create the mixture using their own secret recipe and up to twenty-seven different spices. The tough part is in getting the proportions right, as spices can vary in intensity and flavour depending on how old they are or where they came from. Putting in a pinch of this and a teaspoon of that just doesn’t give you world-class results. Side note: I was too lazy to dig through my pictures, so I plagiarized these from random websites.

As you can imagine, things bought from an open market in a third world country are sometimes risky. I've found my share of stowaways in pasta and spices... but never anything quite like what is described here in two emails from the SistersT... they explain it in general hilarity, as always.

September 24, 2007 -- email from FrancesM.
that huge bag of spices we brought back with us from morocco... yeah, they hatched last week. thousands of tiny black cock-roach looking bugs, that evidentlycan't live in our atmosphere, because they died right away. so strange. they straight up, war-of-the-worlds killed over. how's life in casa treating you? i hope you've been well, and make sure you boil everything before eating it!!

September 27, 2007 -- email from T.Jo
I dunno if Frances M mentioned it, but she brought back some tahjin spices in the spring and guess what? They hatched out!!! She warned me this weekend about them basically taking over one area of her kitchen and I happily rooted around until I found those spices. As luck would have it, my bugs were mostly dead--but maybe 20 or so were alive still and slowly crawling around--perfectly sealed in a Glad plastic bag. I felt that the Glad company really lived up to its name, just seeing all those bugs perfectly sealed up in there, unable to invade my sanity and sense of cleanliness. I have a feeling actually, that those were some kind of weevils. It was a bit of a weevil holocaust. There were hundreds who didn't make it (depending on how you define make it--they hatched all right, just didn't live very long, best I can tell--very glad I skipped the larvae stage!!!).

Just more protein, that's what I say.

Story of Home -- 2 of 2

Picture it, Casablanca, August 2007...

The school in Agadir closed, and with it, our stay in that last apartment. Our old boss was gracious enough to let us stay there until Denise and I returned to Morocco from our three week trip home to the States in late July. When we arrived back on 4 August, we began to pack up (solidly -- my least favorite thing to do), and get ready to move to Casablanca. We both accepted jobs at the same school here, and housing was part of the deal. Only one catch. One apartment left, so we would have to share. We hesitated, so they said that normally the Principal lives in the apartment above the Admin offices of the school. It is bigger than the other teacher housing apartments, so they offered us the bigger principal apartment to share, and this year's single principal could live in the teacher apartments. We accepted and accepted our fate to share an apartment for the next year.

We had come to the school to sign contracts in early July, just before we left for the States, so some of the the pictures HERE were taken on that visit, and some were taken when we first arrived to move in. Some things had been changed around... and some have changed since. So, don't be confused about the sofa wandering from room to room. And perhaps someday I'll get an after picture of the apartment all well lived-in. Almost two months, and almost unpacked! It's a place with lots of character. Old, and a bit crusty in places, but cool. Lots of the furnishings are Moroccan craft stuff. Many of the rooms have walls painted with a texture pattern to them... adds a certain something. I don't think I've gotten any pictures of the lanterns on almost every cieling fixture. I've spent some time debating on how to possibly get one of those back home in one piece. And check out the photos for the painted designs on the tables, cabinets, and doors. Very cool.

There are certainly some pros and cons of living above a school, and above one's own workplace. Pros - can sleep in till last minute, have office reaaaally close if you need to put in a few hours on the weekend. Cons - No fake sick days, have office reaaaaally close if you need to put in a few hours on the weekend. Mostly, things are working out beautifully. I do feel a bit left out of the fun. The other teachers who were provided housing all live on the same floor of an apartment building. It's about a 30 minute walk or 10 minute taxi ride from the school to those apartments. Sure, I know that might get old for several reasons... being so close to so many co-workers. But it would also be fun to be around for the last minute runs. Folks over there have identified a place that makes outstanding fresh strawberry juice, a cheese sandwich worth much discussion, and there is talk of an affordable salon. Not to mention the English bookstore around the corner. It's pretty much just us down here on Rue des Papillons (roughly translated Butterfly Route -- cool address, huh?).