The complexities of countless cultures
August 7, 2011
The country of Morocco has roughly the same population size and land area as California, minus a couple million people and plus several thousand square kilometers. (Of course, those numbers depend on whether or not one considers the bit of the Sahara Desert towards the south as the “Moroccan Sahara” or the “Western Sahara”. I’m going with “Western”.)
I’ve never been to California, but I imagine it holds all sorts of different kinds of people, especially considering it’s the most populous state in America. One of the interesting things about America is its collection of people, cultures, and ideologies from all over the world. Questions of the exact nature of American identity, values, worldview, culture, language, and a myriad of other characteristics are hard to answer definitively. It’s a challenge to try to present a well-rounded portrayal of Americans to people who have probably never met an American, or more than a few at most, and who likely have formed their images of Americans based off of movies and sensational news. This challenge makes up the 2nd goal of Peace Corps Volunteers, and one might say a third of our efforts here in Morocco should go towards it.
Knowing how many different sorts of people and ideas there are in America, I’m curious about how many there are in Morocco. This is a much smaller country–it’s only the size of one (admittedly large) state out of 50. But I would almost bet that there are more different cultures and values sets here. I think I would lean towards saying this partially because of the percentage of people who live in rural–and I mean rural–places. Many people who live in merely semi-rural villages still never make it to the city or travel much between the villages. Other villages, where one van might make a several-hour trip down from the mountain to visit a market town, are even more isolated. I know there are rural areas in America, but I think a higher percentage of Americans spend more time mingling with others beyond their immediate surroundings. Whether this is a main reason for it or not, I do believe there are as many if not more different cultures here in Morocco as there are in America. That makes the challenge of the 3rd goal of Peace Corps Volunteers, to educate Americans about the other peoples of the world, fairly daunting.
What’s got me thinking about all of this today is the reactions of Moroccans to foreigners during the holy month of Ramadan. While (nearly all) Moroccans, being Muslim, fast throughout the month (not drinking or eating or doing certain activities from dawn until sunset), most foreigners in the country do not. A few Peace Corps Volunteers fast, but the majority do not. I find the varied responses of their communities to their decisions fascinating. I’ll give some examples.
First, take Omar and Khadijah, two PCVs from my training group who lived in a not too rural, but still rural town in the province of Ouarzazate. Ouarzazate is just south of the High Atlas Mountains, just at the northern edge of the Sahara Desert. From what I’ve seen of the dress and habits there, Islam plays a strong role in the lives of the locals, but people are not overly conservative or constantly using religious phrases in their interactions. Omar and Khadijah decided during their first Ramadan in Morocco that they would give fasting a shot. While some members of their community were supportive and showed some appreciation for the effort, a surprising number of people expressed displeasure. “If you’re fasting, you should be praying, so unless you’re going to convert to Islam, don’t fast.” This didn’t encourage them to continuing fasting, and given the strain on their bodies, they didn’t stick with it. Their second Ramadan, they didn’t fast at all and they told their community members upfront that they weren’t fasting. They told me that the response from people was noticeably more positive than that from the year before. Rather than being disappointed that they weren’t trying to fast, people were more welcoming and supportive of them than they had been the year before. Of course, people could just have gotten more used to them over the year between the two Ramadans, but their religious culture does not seem to involve pressuring non-Muslims to follow their religious customs.
My second example is Karima, a PCV who lives in one of the most conservative areas of Tiznit, the most conservative (socially and religiously) province in Morocco. Talk about an intimidating place! When I talked to her about Ramadan and fasting, she had a different story to tell. The PCV before her fasted consistently, perhaps setting a precedent in the community. The host mother (for both of these PCVs) in particular seems to think that fasting is an obligation that falls on PCVs as well as the Muslim community. Whether this stems from a belief that PCVs should convert to Islam, I don’t know. But apparently the host mother applied this pressure to Karima last year by refusing to look at her as long as Karima said she wasn’t fasting. So what does one do? Lie about fasting just to maintain the social contacts that one needs to function and be happy? Give in to pressure and fast, against one’s will and to the detriment of one’s ability to function as normal? I’ve heard stories of other PCVs in this area of Tiznit facing similar social pressures about fasting during Ramadan. There the people have a very different religious culture from that in Omar and Khadijah’s area of Ouarzazate.
My experience has been very different from either of those of Omar and Khadijah and Karima. I live in Tiznit Province, fairly close to the city of Tiznit itself. From what I’ve seen over my time here, I think my area might be the least conservative in the region (but still very conservative compared to other rural regions in Morocco). I fasted for almost my entire first Ramadan, missing only about four days. Last year I fasted for the entire month without missing a day. This year, I decided I would step back from fasting in order to maintain my ability to get work done and travel easily. It’s been a hard week so far, in certain ways. I miss the connection to my community. It’s not really the same to interact with people who are experiencing a state of physical exhaustion and deprivation, while one has the energy and focus that comes from regular eating and drinking. That physical and mental disconnect aside, however, I haven’t encountered a single instance of pressure from my community. As usual, nearly everyone I see asks, “Tazomt? Are you fasting?” When I say no, some people respond with, “Oh, it’s hard,” or, “Not a single day?” or, “Really?” And then they leave it at that. We continue on with our conversations without another comment on whether or not I’m fasting. I was curious to see how people would react this year, after I fasted for two other Ramadans. It’s a relief to see that, for the most part, it doesn’t really matter to them one way or another. I’m still waiting for at least one or two people to give me a hard time. In the past there have been a person or two each Ramadan who insists that I shouldn’t be fasting if I’m not praying, or that I shouldn’t fast since my parents don’t fast. A fair number of people seemed to think that by fasting I was moving along well towards praying and converting, but never made any comments about it that were less than friendly.
The point to all this thinking and writing, besides to share a bit about Ramadan, is to show how each PCV in Morocco has their own very unique experience. A large part of our job, the part that we will hopefully continue working towards for the rest of our lives, is to share Morocco with Americans. Each of us learns our own truths about our own communities, work, and experiences. The important thing to remember when sharing these truths is that countless others exist. Generalizations can’t be made about Americans, Moroccans, or any other people in the world. Generalizations are usually the easiest ways to get ideas and images across… but they are accurate in only a very few circumstances.
This is something that I think about a lot, and I talk to other PCVs about it frequently. As time passes I learn more and more about how my personal experience here is exceptional in its own ways, just as every other PCV’s experience is exceptional too. Everyday I think about how lucky I am to have the wonderful community, engaging work, and intriguing experiences that I have here in my little village in Morocco.
