I have been very poor at contributing to this blog. I can hardly believe that nearly two months have passed and i havent got down to it. Today seems to be a special day. All the ladies were singing as they changed nappies in the orphanage today and the sun is out. Weve ha drain for the last week of so which has been tremendously exiting for everyone at home apart from me. Fedwa, who is the only daughter of the wonderfull family im staying with, keeps rushing down the stairs asking to be let out to see the rain. Im in a fantastic mood today so far. For the last couple of weeks i seem to have been able to deal with the endless cat calling with good humour (private humour, i dont want them to catch even,a hint of a smile). I realized that i was going to give myself heart failure if i marched around feeling furious all the time. Today, i might turn around to everyone that says 'Ahh very beautiful, yes?' and shout ' YES, ITS TRUE, I AM. Thankyou my good man for reaffirming it'.

A couple of days ago Auriel and i were taken to Agadir. Which i found to be alarmingly simular to a day in Brighton or anyother see side town. We had lunch with the family of one of a GMH member. It was a fantastic meal and as another platter was brought in i exclaimed ' oh my giddy aunt'. 'What means giddy aunt?' Fouad wanted to know. After lunch we were dressed up in the families berber clothes. Which is a great honour so im told. We looked indescribably funny and i really struggled to take the event seriously. The wieght of the jewellery was emmence and it was a real effort to get to the door to pose for pictures.

I do feel really happy here and i feel like ive learnt a lot. I have travelled and lived in some Arab countries before but ive found this to be an entirely different experience. Before i was living with families and going to university which meant i saw how family relationships worked. But here in Morocco i feel that im getting a really good overall view. Its such a privaledge to live and be around people who are so comitted to bettering the lives of people in their society. They have really good strong values. Its an insperation.

My family here are the beas knees too. Many a night we sit up chatting about the world, Morocco, England, culture. Weve had some great conversations, among my favourites: Freedom of speech. Abdullah travelled to England last year with Africa trust and is generally very open minded and easy going. His wife Siham has never left Morocco and has had a limited education. Its amazing to watch the look on her face when he tells her about what he saw in England. The best being when him and other volunteers stumbled across a nudist beach. They hadnt understood the sign half way up the beach and had wandered into what must have been a very embarassing situation for them. Siham almost fell off her chair laughing.

If any one is reading this and is humming and harring about coming out here i say do it. I was sceptical about the organization before i came but all my doubts have since vanished. They are doing a fantastic job here. This certainly isnt Marakesh but its a good town and not too overwhelming. The souq is big enough to lose your way in but small enough not to panic in. There arnt too many tourists either which i think is a bit of a blessing and we've really been taken care of. What more can you ask for?
Antonia

Feeling extremely tired after my day at the orphanage yet content also.I decided I would like to paint the main room in the house for handicapped children a fresh roseè _which after hurrid bargaining over 30 kilo of white water based and mixing with( miscommunication )5 kilo of oil based red I had the roseé!!! As I asked the director for permission to paint he said of course I can, if Azziz ( the oldest there) would let me ! followed with many "bon courages"! all in all, Azziz danced around me a sleepy smile on face, Buchra and Issam occasionally came over to touch or stroke the wall... checking my process!...became a project with all and at the end the wonderful women who work here said it was "zweena" beautiful... so hoping this is true inshallah.
my mornings are with the handicapped children and the afternoons with the babies, truly humanitarian work that you can feel in every part of the women who work there and a companionship am happy to be apart of.

Hoping you,ve enjoyed the small note...have a mint tea awaiting me now that i do o so love yaaloo to all potential volunteers(and past!) love from the mud red walls of taroudannt,poor yet smiling children and the maroccon warmth of all in GMH that are creating these possible horizons.
p.s come here!

salaam alaykoum,

auriel
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This is to warn and inform all future volunteers about WCs in and around Taroudant. What is the toilet etiquette?

Toilets in Taroudant are generally like they were all over France 20 years ago- a porcelain hole in the ground.However, toilet paper is usually supplied, and a tap on the floor with a little bucket. One assumes teh squatting position, whilst paying particular attention to one's whites. When the deed is done, remember to use the tap and bucket provided to wash your hands and wash away your waste.

An important thing to note whilst packing is that you will most probably suffer from diarrhea during your first one or two weeks. Fear not! Your yearning for an English toilet will soon be fulfilled. When you are least expecting it and just when your thigh muscles have straightened an English toilet will appear.

However, the luxury of a hole in the ground in a room with a door is nowhere to be found in the beautiful surroundings of the Atlas mountains. After a bumpy four hour journey in the back of a pick-up, on roads barely wider than a goat track, we were shown to our "toilet". This was a multipurpose stable equipped with eery darkness, several sheep and some goats a horse next door, two cows and a clutch of chickens. No bucket here...

If however this is not to your liking, a short walk a la nature is advisable. Don't wait until you are desperate though!

Whilst we are on the subject we'd like to tell you what we discovered at the tannery. Our purchases (a trendier than Topshop bag and a pair of sandals) were made with the help of pigeon poo. The acid of which apparently softens the leather.

So talk about it however you like, use all the euthanisms you like, at the end of the day, when nature calls, you have to answer.

Christina 2007 and Shafiqa

Saalam alaykoum,

Prepare yourselves for some shocking typing errors; this email is not for the avid readers of "Panda Eats Shoots and Leaves." The following is my first blog entry for Africa Trust.

How can I describe such an experience? Photographs help enormously to convey the surroundings but sadly they cannot communicate the warm (ho hum) atmosphere! Never before have i appreciated just how flexible the hour can be. If you wish to meet at a particular time, or even within 20 minutes, it is necessary to specify "European time."

Rather than attempting to describe every action of the last ten days I'd like to give you some idea; f you don't already have one; of my experience of the friendly Roudanise attitude. I never expected to feel so at home, or at least so relaxed; so quickly. When I boarded the airplane 10 days ago Morocco was a void and two months a seemingly infinite amount of time. Now though,I have already become quite attached to Taroudannt and when I think back to my nerves on departure I can safely render them quite unjustified. However it would be wrong to give the impression that i have become used to all the goings on! Each day brings with it a multitude of surprises, and I'm quite sure they could continue in the same manner for some months!

The program seems to change hourly and occasionally...more often than not....the explanation doesn't quite breach the language gap. Worry not thought I never feel in the slightest bit neglected! I think the house key is possibly my most proud possession, it's the key to my Moroccan family and home! (Not that I'm not missing you both Mummy and Daddy!!!)

An introductory blog would be incomplete without reference to mint tea and the ceremony that surrounds it! The water goes into the silver tea pot then the tea then the desired amount of tea leaves and finally enough sugar to make a small sponge cake. The pot is left, peered into, left again, poured out; tipped back in, peered into, poured out again into little glasses from such a substantial height that if the wind were to gust then i feel sure the tea would become a new pattern on the table: Finally it is drunk. As for the taste it improves with experience! The first day it tasted a lot like heated up mouthwash....now it resembles mint flavoured glucose..

I fear another meeting with the silver teapot awaits at Abdulla's house and so I must be gone. I would like to devote more time to my description of the orphanage and the work of gmh and a few reflections, but all that shall have to wait.

I hope you've found this interesting

Christina 2007 xxxxx

I've only been in Taroudannt for 10 days, but already it feels like home. I'm living at Karima's right by the school which is very convenient, though I'm always late!! I don't think I could have asked for a better host family because they helped me with all the little, but important things you need to do like get a Moroccan sim card and a telephone card to ring home! They also taught me a lot about Morocco and its tradition, about life in Taroudaant, the food (Lubna has kindly offered to teach me to cook) and most importantly, the shopping!

We've done a lot already and our two introductory weeks are nearly over. I've found the Dialect Arabic lessons the most interesting though I have no idea how I'm ever going to pronounce the sounds properly!!! I can't even pronounce my own name correctly! Christina and I have been practising though we sound like chickens when we do!

Before I finish, I'll tell you about our trip to Taraghzout which is a little village near Agadir. It was very pretty and calm near the sea. But my favourtie has to be the transport we used. There seemed to be no way of knowing when or where the taxis could come. So, we decided to get a bus. Chris had warned us beforehand about what it would be like but it was the most fun journey I think Ill ever go on. The bus appeared and there was a mad rush to get onto it - one guy even got in through the bus window!! The atmospehre was great with the traditional singing and music. I cant wait to go on one again!

Basslama!

Shafiqa xxxxxxxxxx

The latest team of volunteers has arrived in Taroudannt, accompanied by the usual fanfare that greets guests in Morocco. As they get used to the heat, and plan their work timetable for the next two months, I've had the grandee's tour of what's been happening since the departure of the last team. The volunteer donations at the Ecole Wifaq have allowed the creation of two pre-school classes, which are led by volunteers from GMH. GMH has gradually taken on a very substantial role in the provision of education in the Taroudannt area, and has been allocated funding by the Ministry of Education to employ extra teachers.

Similarly, volunteer donations have been enormously useful at the Lalla Amina orphanage, which continues to do very important work. Some of the children will be able to go away to the colonies de vacances during the summer - an exellent break from Taroudannt!

My time teaching basic IT at Al Wifaq school finished last week with a grand little party, cakes and all, thrown by the children. It was a really nice way to draw all the lessons to an end. The last week or two had been mainly focused on doing more fun activities in an end-of-schoolyear style. The penultimate week I’d organised a “Paint” competition, with chocolate for the winners of each group, in a bid to get the children to apply themselves and get pictures that I could put up on a big board in class, in honour of their efforts! It worked, though I quickly learnt that I needed to give the kids a bit of inspiration and show them ideas for what could be done in order to get their best work. Otherwise, I would be presented time and again with the same old house drawings! To be expected, maybe. Anyhow, once I’d honed the format of the lesson, all went well, I got the good drawings I wanted and at least one group left the room at the end of the class with big smiles and chocolate smudges on their faces!

My final class was even more fun. I taught the children how to upload digital pictures (unsurprisingly, none of the children possess digital cameras- but maybe following Morocco’s development, things will have changed…we can hope!) and then open them in Paint. My focus on Paint was the last section of my programme which had previously taken in Microsoft Word, Excel and a touch of Powerpoint. Unsurprisingly, it was one of the most enjoyed, though Word too was very popular, especially with the use of WordArt, different fonts, colours and pictures. The kids are more than happy to have a go at learning the basics of using computers- the latest technology, webcams and headsets have landed in Moroccan cybercafes littering the streets, and surfing the web and chatting by MSN have become adolescents’ favourite pastime! It was a big surprise when I first got to Morocco to discover that broadband and Pentium 3 computers could be found in cybers everywhere. The other shops to be found pretty exclusively consist of fruit and veg stalls, all-purpose foodstore shopfronts, carpenters, hairdressers, bike repairmen and cafes- all age-old services. Moroccans are becoming increasingly computer-savvy, so providing IT lessons, especially to children who have not previously had access to computers, are useful for the community and are met with eagerness from the children.

That said, my final lesson with each class did turn into riotous affairs. I’d taken each group to the garden where I took a series of pics of them, before loading them up into Paint, where they could draw clown’s noses on each other and transpose their heads onto each other’s bodies to their heart’s content. It was very enjoyable, even if I did take exception when my head was drawn into the fray (as it were) and placed on the body of a particularly rotund little girl! Getting the kids to leave the room at the end of the final lesson was particularly difficult, with my tactics of locking the children in for a few seconds seemingly not going down well with a fellow member of staff…Oh well. It was sad to leave the children, but I hope to return to Taroudannt to see them- and, with any luck, they will have been able to take on what they have learnt and use their new knowledge for other subjects (or impressing their friends in chatrooms)!

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.