RABAT // In the room where she writes, Laila Lalami keeps a small stone with the Arabic word for “nation” painted on one end and “foreigner” painted on the other.
“But according to the root, you could also take it to mean ‘outsider’,” said Lalami, whose novel Secret Son comes out this month, speaking by telephone from her home in Santa Monica, California.
That word describes Lalami, a Moroccan novelist living outside her native country and working outside its main literary vehicles, French and Arabic. Writing in English, she is crashing through linguistic barriers that have long hindered Moroccan authors from reaching a world audience – and winning critical acclaim in the process.
Secret Son, Lalami’s second book, cements her place in the vanguard of a generation of Moroccan writers influenced less by the colonialism of the 20th century than by the globalisation of the 21st.
Modern literature in Morocco blossomed during 20th-century French rule that introduced the novel and brought foreign writers to the country. Many settled in Tangier, for decades under international administration, drawn by its cocktail of nationalities and partying lifestyle.
“It was a cultural gateway,” said Khalid Amine, professor of performance studies at the Abdelmalek Essaadi University in the nearby city of Tetouan. “Modernity came to Moroccan through Tangier.”
Tangier remained an artistic hub after Morocco gained independence in 1956. Moroccan writers mixed with sojourning foreigners such as Jean Genet, Tennessee Williams and William S Burroughs, and with the American writer Paul Bowles, who lived in Tangier from 1947 until his death in 1999.
It was Bowles who mentored a poor young Moroccan named Mohammed Choukri and translated his autobiographical For Bread Alone into English in 1973.
Choukri became a star of Morocco’s early literary scene. Some writers, including Choukri, wrote in Arabic. Others used French, a colonial legacy that still dominates much of Moroccan cultural life, business and education.
“I grew up with books in the house,” said Lalami, who developed a taste for writing as a child in the 1970s in Rabat, the capital. “Most bookstores carried children’s literature in French, so when I started writing it was in French.”
English came in high school and university. Armed with a grant from the British Council, Lalami decamped for postgraduate studies at University College London, eventually earning a doctorate in linguistics from the University of Southern California.
In the midst of writing her dissertation, she decided to try her hand at composing fiction in English.
“I felt that there was too much of a colonial relationship with French,” she said. “It’s used in Morocco to indicate social class and educational level – it’s not neutral.”
Secret Son tells the story of Youssef, a poor young Casablancan who discovers that the father he believed dead is very much alive, and a member of the country’s glossy elite. Youssef embarks on a quest for identity in Casablanca’s messy confluence of westernisation and conservative Islam, “with disastrous consequences”, Lalami said.
“Most of our problems emanate from the compromise between East and West, tradition and modernity, religion and secularism,” said Mr Amine, from the Abdelmalek Essaadi University. “These are the main questions reflected in our arts.”
“Globalisation is not just a concept for the average Moroccan, it’s a reality,” Lalami said. “If you are in Morocco, you see how much the rest of the world penetrates the country.”
Lalami has come of age as Morocco has opened economically, seeking to position itself as major tourist destination and regional hub of business and commerce. That puts her among a young generation of Moroccan artists who are both products and chroniclers of globalisation.
University reading lists are reflecting the change, said Mr Amine. “Ten years ago we taught almost exclusively French literature, but now students are reading Moroccan writers.”
Some critics have portrayed Lalami as an emerging national voice.
Only some three per cent of books published in the US are translated foreign works. That makes Lalami one of a handful of Moroccan authors appearing in the language of globalisation.
“I am aware of an enormous responsibility, because many books written in English get translated into other languages,” she said. But she is not interested in serving as “a spokesperson for any kind of idea about Morocco”.
“I just want readers to journey with the characters and get to know their lives.”
Showing posts with label Morrocco. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Morrocco. Show all posts
Wednesday, 1 April 2009
Monday, 6 October 2008
Morocco: ANHRI Concerned Over Alleged Targeting of University Students for Peacefully Expressing Their Opinions
On 24 September 2008, ANHRI reported that Moroccan students are being targeted by the authorities for criticising the discriminative educational policies that some of the faculties and universities use against politically active students. Meanwhile, student Jadda Boubkar who was arrested on 21 July in Taza city remains in prison.
Authorities at Meknes University recently expelled four students. Three students are facing a temporary expulsion of three years while the studies of eight other students have been suspended for one year.
The Meknes University students are apparently facing these measures for peacefully expressing their opinions. Some were charged for posting a banner which stated, "Saharawi Nation's Right to Self-Determination", while others are accused of obstructing the work of the academic institution.
Boubkar, a student at Taza University, was detained on 21 July for criticising educational policies and the police's suppression of students.
"The practice of these Moroccan universities is . . . a serious transformation in the universities' role, whereby the Moroccan universities act in collusion with security apparatuses and repress their students instead of supporting them and their right to express their opinions," said ANHRI.
Under the so-called "War on Terrorism", the Moroccan government has at times repressed those who criticise its practices. Activist students who do not belong to any radical groups and are known only for their secularism and advocacy of their right to express their opinions have been targeted, as have students with a leftist background.
ANHRI called on the Moroccan government to withdraw recent decisions that threaten the future of the university students, and to fulfill its commitments as regards guaranteeing the right to express opinions, in accordance with the Moroccan Constitution.
Authorities at Meknes University recently expelled four students. Three students are facing a temporary expulsion of three years while the studies of eight other students have been suspended for one year.
The Meknes University students are apparently facing these measures for peacefully expressing their opinions. Some were charged for posting a banner which stated, "Saharawi Nation's Right to Self-Determination", while others are accused of obstructing the work of the academic institution.
Boubkar, a student at Taza University, was detained on 21 July for criticising educational policies and the police's suppression of students.
"The practice of these Moroccan universities is . . . a serious transformation in the universities' role, whereby the Moroccan universities act in collusion with security apparatuses and repress their students instead of supporting them and their right to express their opinions," said ANHRI.
Under the so-called "War on Terrorism", the Moroccan government has at times repressed those who criticise its practices. Activist students who do not belong to any radical groups and are known only for their secularism and advocacy of their right to express their opinions have been targeted, as have students with a leftist background.
ANHRI called on the Moroccan government to withdraw recent decisions that threaten the future of the university students, and to fulfill its commitments as regards guaranteeing the right to express opinions, in accordance with the Moroccan Constitution.
Monday, 25 August 2008
Bread and circuses versus the clash of ignorance; Moroccan state's promotion of cultural festivals hangs from a political skeleton
Beirut -- CASABLANCA: If you were under the impression that Muslims have something against music, the sheer number of summer music festivals around the Middle East and North Africa might come as something of a surprise. Morocco provides a case in point.
The Casablanca Festival turns Morocco's commercial capital into an urban Woodstock, with masses of young people clogging the mosque-filled streets and partying to the pulse of hip-hop, rock, pop and Arab music. An estimated 2 million people attend free concerts at a dozen venues, many snapping up the action on their cell phones.
Casablanca's is only one of about 400 yearly festivals sponsored by authorities across that country, not to mention the sports, dancing and singing contests organized on popular beaches every summer.
The Moroccan state's promotion of cultural events and leisure activities hangs from a political skeleton.
The country's increasingly powerful Islamist groups view it as a deliberate attempt to deviate youth from traditional Islamic values. Even some government officials admit the aim of the merrymaking is to promote the liberal values they'd like to see society embrace rather than radical Islam.
Not surprisingly perhaps, most youth say they don't see it that way. They just enjoy the free music and the opportunity to party in this country of 34 million where unemployment is particularly high among young adults and where parents usually keep a tight grip on their children.
"I like these concerts ... the artists are role models for young people," said 19-year-old Fadoua Hakki at a hip-hop event in Casablanca. Oumaima, 17, praised the "great strides" made by the new generation of home-grown Moroccan rap singers. "They're very good," she said, "and they voice our concerns."
The streets full of trendy teenagers dancing to the Tecktonik craze that has swept Europe stand in striking contrast to the near-medieval living conditions in Morocco's countryside or the sprawling slums around Casablanca, which have become a hotbed of Islamism.
Such festivals would be unheard of in more rigorously conservative Muslim states, where the mixing of boys and girls, free sale of alcohol or even dancing in public can be forbidden.
Like all those states in the MENA region habitually termed "moderate," Morocco has strong economic and political ties to the West and is a major tourist destination. Like them, Morocco prides itself on a cultural diversity that allows scantily clad girls to attend a concert side by side with women wearing Islamic headscarves.
Artists in Casablanca this year included international reggae and hip-hop stars. The yearly Gnaoua Mystical Music Festival in the resort town of Essaouira attracts top jazz and rock players. In Rabat, Morocco's capital, this year's edition of the Mawazine World Music Fest (a stone's throw from King Mohammed VI's palace and under his direct patronage) included Whitney Houston for her return to the stage, jazzman George Benson and French electro DJ David Vendetta.
Organizers say bringing in big names to festivals reflects Morocco's traditions of mixing cultures and people from Europe and Africa. "That openness can only continue if there is an exposure to cultures from the rest of the world," said Ahmad Ammor, the head of the Casablanca Festival organizing committee. "It's part of the king's project for society, that's why you see a festival in nearly every town."
With a budget of about $3.18 million, Ammor's festival remains the largest in Morocco. Like many official events in Morocco, it is half funded by public money and half by large companies close to the state. Ammor says he works for free, presiding the rest of the time over a subsidiary of the national carrier Royal Air Maroc.
Morocco's attitude toward summer festivals may be unique in financial support the state provides, but the concept is in step with that of other "moderate" states in the region, seeking to add value to the archaeological and natural sites in order to lure more Western tourists in the summertime.
In the Hashemite Kingdom this year, the principal platform for such activity was the Jordan Festival. Between July 8 and August 9, Amman, Jerash, and the Dead Sea provided venues for shows by such Arab performers as Amr Diab, Ragheb Alameh, George Wasouf, Faudel, Biyouna, Cheb Khaled and international artists like Placido Domingo, Monica Yunus, Jazz celebrity Diana Krall and British-Lebanese pop star Mika.
The festival also attracted press attention and boycott threats when rumors surfaced that the events organizer behind the festival had also worked on Israel's 60th anniversary celebrations.
In its profile and line-up, the Jordan Festival very much emulated a successful prototype used in Lebanon but largely becalmed by the political vagaries visited upon that country since the 2006 summer war.
The Byblos Festival, tucked in its Christian enclave and so largely free of the sectarian-political stresses felt elsewhere in Lebanon, was the first to clamber to its feet. The 2008 season witnessed the return of Byblos' high-profile models - the Baalbek and Beiteddine International Festivals - as well as a host of smaller festivals whose programs range from heritage events and to pop musicians and DJs.
Security is a major concern at such events and a massive police presence is visible Morocco's public events. Organizers say unruliness is rare at Morocco's summer festivals, noting that parents often attend with their children and then take them home.
Many have qualms with all this revelry, however. Some critics say funding the stars' contracts costs the state a fortune. Others deplore the import of Western music such as rap, which they accuse of corrupting Moroccan youth. Others still say the large spring festivals are badly timed because they interfere with exam periods.
"There are too many festivals in Morocco," said Zine Eddine Bekkal, a Casablanca shopkeeper. "As soon as one finishes, another starts. No wonder young people don't read anymore."
The most vocal critics are usually affiliated with Islamist groups, who hold growing sway in Morocco. The gap between the educated, wealthy and Westernized elite and the vast majority of the impoverished population has been widening.
"We stand against the debauchery observed during these festivals," Abdelilah Benkirane, said on a state TV talk show. Benkirane leads Morocco's biggest authorized Islamist group, the Justice and Development Party.
"Have you seen the type of groups they invite?" he was quoted as saying by the liberal-leaning "TelQuel" weekly magazine. "The suggestive, scantily clad women?"
More hard-line Islamist groups, like the semi-legal Justice and Charity movement - regarded as the largest in Morocco - see more than bad morality to the partying.
"It's not only dissolute, it's cynical," said Nadia Yassine, spokeswoman for the movement and the daughter of its founder, Sheik Yassine.
"It's like ancient Rome: bread and circus to keep the masses happy," she said, accusing the state of trying to divert public attention from Morocco's lasting problems, such as unemployment, poverty and corruption.
Moroccan government officials say the drive for culture comes within a wider plan to improve public education and build new infrastructure throughout the destitute hinterland.
They also gingerly admit they are waging a struggle for the hearts and minds of the country's youth.
One high-ranking Interior Ministry official - who spoke anonymously because this is not a publicly avowed government policy - recalled how some Islamists began speaking out against public beaches. Groups walked the seafront to preach for better morals and fewer bikinis, or set up segregated areas.
"No one wants to be bothered on the beach" he said, "so people began shying away."
He added that the government's reaction was to promote sports and leisure activities as well as song and dance contests on beaches during the summer.
"Sure, this bothers the 'bearded ones,'" the official grinned, using a slightly derogatory slang to refer to Islamists because of the long beards they often grow.
Ammor, the festival organizer, said the state was on a mission to make Morocco a place where Arab and Western cultures can interplay, rather than dwell on the growing tensions of the last decade.
"People call it a clash of civilizations," he said. "I think it's a clash of ignorance." - With The Daily Star
The Casablanca Festival turns Morocco's commercial capital into an urban Woodstock, with masses of young people clogging the mosque-filled streets and partying to the pulse of hip-hop, rock, pop and Arab music. An estimated 2 million people attend free concerts at a dozen venues, many snapping up the action on their cell phones.
Casablanca's is only one of about 400 yearly festivals sponsored by authorities across that country, not to mention the sports, dancing and singing contests organized on popular beaches every summer.
The Moroccan state's promotion of cultural events and leisure activities hangs from a political skeleton.
The country's increasingly powerful Islamist groups view it as a deliberate attempt to deviate youth from traditional Islamic values. Even some government officials admit the aim of the merrymaking is to promote the liberal values they'd like to see society embrace rather than radical Islam.
Not surprisingly perhaps, most youth say they don't see it that way. They just enjoy the free music and the opportunity to party in this country of 34 million where unemployment is particularly high among young adults and where parents usually keep a tight grip on their children.
"I like these concerts ... the artists are role models for young people," said 19-year-old Fadoua Hakki at a hip-hop event in Casablanca. Oumaima, 17, praised the "great strides" made by the new generation of home-grown Moroccan rap singers. "They're very good," she said, "and they voice our concerns."
The streets full of trendy teenagers dancing to the Tecktonik craze that has swept Europe stand in striking contrast to the near-medieval living conditions in Morocco's countryside or the sprawling slums around Casablanca, which have become a hotbed of Islamism.
Such festivals would be unheard of in more rigorously conservative Muslim states, where the mixing of boys and girls, free sale of alcohol or even dancing in public can be forbidden.
Like all those states in the MENA region habitually termed "moderate," Morocco has strong economic and political ties to the West and is a major tourist destination. Like them, Morocco prides itself on a cultural diversity that allows scantily clad girls to attend a concert side by side with women wearing Islamic headscarves.
Artists in Casablanca this year included international reggae and hip-hop stars. The yearly Gnaoua Mystical Music Festival in the resort town of Essaouira attracts top jazz and rock players. In Rabat, Morocco's capital, this year's edition of the Mawazine World Music Fest (a stone's throw from King Mohammed VI's palace and under his direct patronage) included Whitney Houston for her return to the stage, jazzman George Benson and French electro DJ David Vendetta.
Organizers say bringing in big names to festivals reflects Morocco's traditions of mixing cultures and people from Europe and Africa. "That openness can only continue if there is an exposure to cultures from the rest of the world," said Ahmad Ammor, the head of the Casablanca Festival organizing committee. "It's part of the king's project for society, that's why you see a festival in nearly every town."
With a budget of about $3.18 million, Ammor's festival remains the largest in Morocco. Like many official events in Morocco, it is half funded by public money and half by large companies close to the state. Ammor says he works for free, presiding the rest of the time over a subsidiary of the national carrier Royal Air Maroc.
Morocco's attitude toward summer festivals may be unique in financial support the state provides, but the concept is in step with that of other "moderate" states in the region, seeking to add value to the archaeological and natural sites in order to lure more Western tourists in the summertime.
In the Hashemite Kingdom this year, the principal platform for such activity was the Jordan Festival. Between July 8 and August 9, Amman, Jerash, and the Dead Sea provided venues for shows by such Arab performers as Amr Diab, Ragheb Alameh, George Wasouf, Faudel, Biyouna, Cheb Khaled and international artists like Placido Domingo, Monica Yunus, Jazz celebrity Diana Krall and British-Lebanese pop star Mika.
The festival also attracted press attention and boycott threats when rumors surfaced that the events organizer behind the festival had also worked on Israel's 60th anniversary celebrations.
In its profile and line-up, the Jordan Festival very much emulated a successful prototype used in Lebanon but largely becalmed by the political vagaries visited upon that country since the 2006 summer war.
The Byblos Festival, tucked in its Christian enclave and so largely free of the sectarian-political stresses felt elsewhere in Lebanon, was the first to clamber to its feet. The 2008 season witnessed the return of Byblos' high-profile models - the Baalbek and Beiteddine International Festivals - as well as a host of smaller festivals whose programs range from heritage events and to pop musicians and DJs.
Security is a major concern at such events and a massive police presence is visible Morocco's public events. Organizers say unruliness is rare at Morocco's summer festivals, noting that parents often attend with their children and then take them home.
Many have qualms with all this revelry, however. Some critics say funding the stars' contracts costs the state a fortune. Others deplore the import of Western music such as rap, which they accuse of corrupting Moroccan youth. Others still say the large spring festivals are badly timed because they interfere with exam periods.
"There are too many festivals in Morocco," said Zine Eddine Bekkal, a Casablanca shopkeeper. "As soon as one finishes, another starts. No wonder young people don't read anymore."
The most vocal critics are usually affiliated with Islamist groups, who hold growing sway in Morocco. The gap between the educated, wealthy and Westernized elite and the vast majority of the impoverished population has been widening.
"We stand against the debauchery observed during these festivals," Abdelilah Benkirane, said on a state TV talk show. Benkirane leads Morocco's biggest authorized Islamist group, the Justice and Development Party.
"Have you seen the type of groups they invite?" he was quoted as saying by the liberal-leaning "TelQuel" weekly magazine. "The suggestive, scantily clad women?"
More hard-line Islamist groups, like the semi-legal Justice and Charity movement - regarded as the largest in Morocco - see more than bad morality to the partying.
"It's not only dissolute, it's cynical," said Nadia Yassine, spokeswoman for the movement and the daughter of its founder, Sheik Yassine.
"It's like ancient Rome: bread and circus to keep the masses happy," she said, accusing the state of trying to divert public attention from Morocco's lasting problems, such as unemployment, poverty and corruption.
Moroccan government officials say the drive for culture comes within a wider plan to improve public education and build new infrastructure throughout the destitute hinterland.
They also gingerly admit they are waging a struggle for the hearts and minds of the country's youth.
One high-ranking Interior Ministry official - who spoke anonymously because this is not a publicly avowed government policy - recalled how some Islamists began speaking out against public beaches. Groups walked the seafront to preach for better morals and fewer bikinis, or set up segregated areas.
"No one wants to be bothered on the beach" he said, "so people began shying away."
He added that the government's reaction was to promote sports and leisure activities as well as song and dance contests on beaches during the summer.
"Sure, this bothers the 'bearded ones,'" the official grinned, using a slightly derogatory slang to refer to Islamists because of the long beards they often grow.
Ammor, the festival organizer, said the state was on a mission to make Morocco a place where Arab and Western cultures can interplay, rather than dwell on the growing tensions of the last decade.
"People call it a clash of civilizations," he said. "I think it's a clash of ignorance." - With The Daily Star
Monday, 18 August 2008
Lifting the veil: Frances Linzee Gordon
There is a lot to be said for being a woman in a man's world, writes Lonely Planet author FRANCES LINZEE GORDON.
'YOU will die,'' the man screamed. ''You will die alone in the desert.'' ''You are a woman,'' he continued, laughing hysterically. ''Do you dare to believe that you, a woman, can survive the great Erg Chebbi?''
That was it. I took my foot off the clutch, stamped the accelerator to the floor and with a tremendous blast of engine, sand and dust, took off. As I peered through the windscreen into the great sandy abyss before me, I wondered if I would indeed ever reach Merzouga...
Well if I didn't, I'd be dammed if I didn't die trying.
It was my first major assignment for Lonely Planet. The brief: to rewrite completely a guidebook about Morocco. Talk about baptism by fire. I'd had a car chase through the Rif Mountains pursued by drug barons, a car accident, a nasty stomach bug, and no less than 24 marriage proposals; eight in a single day. And now, a guide was demanding an exorbitant fee to navigate the desert to Merzouga.
Yes, travelling solo as a woman has its challenges. But over the dozen or so years that I have worked as a travel writer, through the 100 or so countries that I have journeyed - some considered among the most dangerous in the world - I have come to believe passionately that a woman should never feel afraid to travel just because she is a woman.
Indeed I am certain that women even have huge advantages over men when they travel.
On many occasions I have been granted visas, interviews, permits and special permissions when my male colleagues have not. I recall a warm night in Addis Ababa some 10 years previously. I had been invited to a cocktail party where the rich, the powerful, the fat and the very fat mingled freely. It was a riot and the champagne flowed freely.
But from one corner, a Western man threw daggers in my direction. Finally, championed by the champagne, I approached him:
''Have we met before?'' I tried with a nervous smile. ''No,'' he replied still scowling. ''But I know exactly who you are.''
After similarly staccato exchanges, I eventually established who he was: the BBC's correspondent for East Africa. It seems he had been trying for four years to obtain an interview with Ethiopia's Prime Minister, Meles Zenawi.
''And you,'' he went on, his voice beginning to tremble with obvious irritation, ''You've been here no more than a couple of weeks, and you sweep into town and spend an hour and a half with the man!''
Trying to make amends, I gave him before leaving, the name of a contact in neighbouring Djibouti, where he was due to spend the next several days. A few weeks later I spied him again at a party. This time he was all smiles and sidled up to me.
''I have to say, thanks for the introduction. My God, your name was like a key. I had only to drop 'Frances' and things would happen!''
No special talent; no special training. Merely the fact of being a woman. Of course it can help to up the ante a bit sometimes. I'm often asked what special items I never travel without.
Continued 24
From 23
Forget the torch, towel and travel pillow. If you're a woman, never leave home without one smart skirt and some lippy.
A woman travelling alone does attract attention. But don't think this is necessarily a disadvantage. For one thing, you have much greater contact with the local people. I can no longer count the number of weddings, christenings, and parties I have attended, nor the number of marvellous meals at home with a local family.
Most rare, most precious and priceless however are those special encounters, insights and experiences that truly make a guidebook sing. Once I was privy to all the wiles and ways of ''How to please your husband'' at an all-women tea party in East Africa. I've read my share of salacious How-To Cosmo articles, watched enough episodes of Sex & the City, and dare I admit, had my share of boyfriends.
But compared to those women there, let me tell you, we in the West know absolutely nooottthhiiinngg.
In my travels, I've been flown by Saudi princes to see their falcons fly; shared pizza around the Cabinet table with a Minister of Interior, and been painted by an artist I had come myself to interview. What occasions such generosity, hospitality and privilege? No more than simply being a woman.
Yes, I do not deny that there are days that have their challenges. What woman has ever come to terms with the embarrassment, almost humiliation of eating alone in a restaurant? Once when obliged by another Lonely Planet guidebook to visit a well-known restaurant in France, I found myself the centre of attention of my fellow-diners. I gobbled the gizzards, grenouilles and fois gras as fast as I could, but not fast enough evidently to avoid a confrontation with my fellow gluttons:
''There is only one zing sadder zan eating alone,'' my neighbour, a particularly handsome Frenchman began with a low bow as he passed by me on his way out. ''And zat is zeeing a beautiful woman eating alone. I wish you a very bonne nuit, Madame.''
I longed to tell him that I'd just eaten one of the best meals of my life, that I had finally summoned up courage to try frogs legs, and that, moreover, I was absolutely thrilled not to have to share one single one of those meaty little morsels with some ''swain'' who bored me senseless. But instead, I went as purple as the quality claret I was quaffing, cast my eyes to the ground, and coughed cheese biscuits all over the fine linen table cloth.
If dining alone, here's a top tip: take along one pen and notepad. You'll be mistaken for a food critic and at the very least be guaranteed good service and a fawning, fulsome waiter. Put off by the punitive hotel practice of offering only double rooms? Have a quiet word with the hotel manager. Many hotels keep back smaller, less desirable rooms in times of emergencies, overflows or double-bookings.
I used always to don a wedding ring - it appeared to pre-empt potential ''misunderstandings'' - until I went to one African country where it appeared to have the opposite effect. Married women, you see, are considered easier game than unmarried maidens. Legion are the faux pas on that front. I once, after a short wrestle, slapped a famous but rather too frisky man I was interviewing.
''You did what?,'' a local friend asked in horror when I later confessed all back at my hotel. ''But you should have slapped him twice... the number one is very unlucky in my country.''
Perhaps the top trick for sole women is to dress and behave more conservatively than you would at home.
Despite the faux pas, confusions and occasional excitements, I cannot recommend enough the experience of travelling alone. It is without doubt the most rewarding, satisfying and gratifying thing I have ever done. And yes, in case you were wondering, I did make it to Merzouga - though the bloody knuckles and sand-encrusted fingernails did rather give me away.
Frances Linzee Gordon is the author of numerous Lonely Planet guidebooks, including Oman, UAE & Arabian Peninsula (2007), Turkey (2007), Middle East (2006), Arabian Peninsula (2004), Ethiopia, Eritrea & Djibouti (2003 and 2000) and Morocco (1998). She has lived in various countries including Spain, Germany and Belgium and currently lives in London.
Taking cover
Extract from Lonely Planet blog on wearing an Abeyya (full robe) and Burkha (face covering) in Saudi Arabia.
Veiled Freedom?
''To my surprise, I rather liked it. From within the veil I could see without being seen, understand without being understood, and ogle the magnificent tribesmen of Najran without suffering inspection myself.
''It shielded from the sun and deterred the dust; it hid blemishes and bags bought on by a late-night's writing or a 15-hour journey. It concealed uncombed hair, a crumpled shirt or clumsy cosmetics. When I later returned to London, the pressure to appear fashionable, feminine and au fait again seemed almost overwhelming. To my surprise, I secretly coveted those days in my coverings...
''Don't think the Saudis themselves miss out too much either. Underneath that austere attire, many Saudi women don the finest fabrics or Milan's most fashionable fittings. Saudi women are also among the highest spenders on luxury lingerie.
Saudi men manage too:
''From the fold in a woman's ankle, you know her age,'' Abdullah one day explained gleefully and sheepishly at the same time.
''From the size of her wrist, you know her build. From the abeyya in motion her figure; and from her hands, her complexion. And from the eyes, you have everything else...''
Going burkha
Here are five unique destinations for the intrepid female traveller.
1. Saudi Arabia - you may not be permitted by law to drive, but wearing an abeyya (all-covering robe) and burkha (face cover) is unexpectedly liberating.
2. Yemen - buy a burkha from the local market, find a ''husband'' (obliging driver or guide) and goggle the gorgeous tribesmen from the safety of your coverings.
3. Eritrea - think we women in the West have attitude and mettle? Visit the tiny East African nation where every man and woman fought to free their country, and where the ballsy women fighters have never looked back.
4. Lebanon - fancy some retail therapy Middle-East style? Check out the haute couture of Beirut's beautiful and buzzing boutiques. It ain't called the ''Paris of the Orient'' for nothing.
5. Iran - learn a womanly wile or two from women considered among the most beautiful on the planet. Take a tour of the markets in their company and learn the century-old secrets of seduction.
'YOU will die,'' the man screamed. ''You will die alone in the desert.'' ''You are a woman,'' he continued, laughing hysterically. ''Do you dare to believe that you, a woman, can survive the great Erg Chebbi?''
That was it. I took my foot off the clutch, stamped the accelerator to the floor and with a tremendous blast of engine, sand and dust, took off. As I peered through the windscreen into the great sandy abyss before me, I wondered if I would indeed ever reach Merzouga...
Well if I didn't, I'd be dammed if I didn't die trying.
It was my first major assignment for Lonely Planet. The brief: to rewrite completely a guidebook about Morocco. Talk about baptism by fire. I'd had a car chase through the Rif Mountains pursued by drug barons, a car accident, a nasty stomach bug, and no less than 24 marriage proposals; eight in a single day. And now, a guide was demanding an exorbitant fee to navigate the desert to Merzouga.
Yes, travelling solo as a woman has its challenges. But over the dozen or so years that I have worked as a travel writer, through the 100 or so countries that I have journeyed - some considered among the most dangerous in the world - I have come to believe passionately that a woman should never feel afraid to travel just because she is a woman.
Indeed I am certain that women even have huge advantages over men when they travel.
On many occasions I have been granted visas, interviews, permits and special permissions when my male colleagues have not. I recall a warm night in Addis Ababa some 10 years previously. I had been invited to a cocktail party where the rich, the powerful, the fat and the very fat mingled freely. It was a riot and the champagne flowed freely.
But from one corner, a Western man threw daggers in my direction. Finally, championed by the champagne, I approached him:
''Have we met before?'' I tried with a nervous smile. ''No,'' he replied still scowling. ''But I know exactly who you are.''
After similarly staccato exchanges, I eventually established who he was: the BBC's correspondent for East Africa. It seems he had been trying for four years to obtain an interview with Ethiopia's Prime Minister, Meles Zenawi.
''And you,'' he went on, his voice beginning to tremble with obvious irritation, ''You've been here no more than a couple of weeks, and you sweep into town and spend an hour and a half with the man!''
Trying to make amends, I gave him before leaving, the name of a contact in neighbouring Djibouti, where he was due to spend the next several days. A few weeks later I spied him again at a party. This time he was all smiles and sidled up to me.
''I have to say, thanks for the introduction. My God, your name was like a key. I had only to drop 'Frances' and things would happen!''
No special talent; no special training. Merely the fact of being a woman. Of course it can help to up the ante a bit sometimes. I'm often asked what special items I never travel without.
Continued 24
From 23
Forget the torch, towel and travel pillow. If you're a woman, never leave home without one smart skirt and some lippy.
A woman travelling alone does attract attention. But don't think this is necessarily a disadvantage. For one thing, you have much greater contact with the local people. I can no longer count the number of weddings, christenings, and parties I have attended, nor the number of marvellous meals at home with a local family.
Most rare, most precious and priceless however are those special encounters, insights and experiences that truly make a guidebook sing. Once I was privy to all the wiles and ways of ''How to please your husband'' at an all-women tea party in East Africa. I've read my share of salacious How-To Cosmo articles, watched enough episodes of Sex & the City, and dare I admit, had my share of boyfriends.
But compared to those women there, let me tell you, we in the West know absolutely nooottthhiiinngg.
In my travels, I've been flown by Saudi princes to see their falcons fly; shared pizza around the Cabinet table with a Minister of Interior, and been painted by an artist I had come myself to interview. What occasions such generosity, hospitality and privilege? No more than simply being a woman.
Yes, I do not deny that there are days that have their challenges. What woman has ever come to terms with the embarrassment, almost humiliation of eating alone in a restaurant? Once when obliged by another Lonely Planet guidebook to visit a well-known restaurant in France, I found myself the centre of attention of my fellow-diners. I gobbled the gizzards, grenouilles and fois gras as fast as I could, but not fast enough evidently to avoid a confrontation with my fellow gluttons:
''There is only one zing sadder zan eating alone,'' my neighbour, a particularly handsome Frenchman began with a low bow as he passed by me on his way out. ''And zat is zeeing a beautiful woman eating alone. I wish you a very bonne nuit, Madame.''
I longed to tell him that I'd just eaten one of the best meals of my life, that I had finally summoned up courage to try frogs legs, and that, moreover, I was absolutely thrilled not to have to share one single one of those meaty little morsels with some ''swain'' who bored me senseless. But instead, I went as purple as the quality claret I was quaffing, cast my eyes to the ground, and coughed cheese biscuits all over the fine linen table cloth.
If dining alone, here's a top tip: take along one pen and notepad. You'll be mistaken for a food critic and at the very least be guaranteed good service and a fawning, fulsome waiter. Put off by the punitive hotel practice of offering only double rooms? Have a quiet word with the hotel manager. Many hotels keep back smaller, less desirable rooms in times of emergencies, overflows or double-bookings.
I used always to don a wedding ring - it appeared to pre-empt potential ''misunderstandings'' - until I went to one African country where it appeared to have the opposite effect. Married women, you see, are considered easier game than unmarried maidens. Legion are the faux pas on that front. I once, after a short wrestle, slapped a famous but rather too frisky man I was interviewing.
''You did what?,'' a local friend asked in horror when I later confessed all back at my hotel. ''But you should have slapped him twice... the number one is very unlucky in my country.''
Perhaps the top trick for sole women is to dress and behave more conservatively than you would at home.
Despite the faux pas, confusions and occasional excitements, I cannot recommend enough the experience of travelling alone. It is without doubt the most rewarding, satisfying and gratifying thing I have ever done. And yes, in case you were wondering, I did make it to Merzouga - though the bloody knuckles and sand-encrusted fingernails did rather give me away.
Frances Linzee Gordon is the author of numerous Lonely Planet guidebooks, including Oman, UAE & Arabian Peninsula (2007), Turkey (2007), Middle East (2006), Arabian Peninsula (2004), Ethiopia, Eritrea & Djibouti (2003 and 2000) and Morocco (1998). She has lived in various countries including Spain, Germany and Belgium and currently lives in London.
Taking cover
Extract from Lonely Planet blog on wearing an Abeyya (full robe) and Burkha (face covering) in Saudi Arabia.
Veiled Freedom?
''To my surprise, I rather liked it. From within the veil I could see without being seen, understand without being understood, and ogle the magnificent tribesmen of Najran without suffering inspection myself.
''It shielded from the sun and deterred the dust; it hid blemishes and bags bought on by a late-night's writing or a 15-hour journey. It concealed uncombed hair, a crumpled shirt or clumsy cosmetics. When I later returned to London, the pressure to appear fashionable, feminine and au fait again seemed almost overwhelming. To my surprise, I secretly coveted those days in my coverings...
''Don't think the Saudis themselves miss out too much either. Underneath that austere attire, many Saudi women don the finest fabrics or Milan's most fashionable fittings. Saudi women are also among the highest spenders on luxury lingerie.
Saudi men manage too:
''From the fold in a woman's ankle, you know her age,'' Abdullah one day explained gleefully and sheepishly at the same time.
''From the size of her wrist, you know her build. From the abeyya in motion her figure; and from her hands, her complexion. And from the eyes, you have everything else...''
Going burkha
Here are five unique destinations for the intrepid female traveller.
1. Saudi Arabia - you may not be permitted by law to drive, but wearing an abeyya (all-covering robe) and burkha (face cover) is unexpectedly liberating.
2. Yemen - buy a burkha from the local market, find a ''husband'' (obliging driver or guide) and goggle the gorgeous tribesmen from the safety of your coverings.
3. Eritrea - think we women in the West have attitude and mettle? Visit the tiny East African nation where every man and woman fought to free their country, and where the ballsy women fighters have never looked back.
4. Lebanon - fancy some retail therapy Middle-East style? Check out the haute couture of Beirut's beautiful and buzzing boutiques. It ain't called the ''Paris of the Orient'' for nothing.
5. Iran - learn a womanly wile or two from women considered among the most beautiful on the planet. Take a tour of the markets in their company and learn the century-old secrets of seduction.
Friday, 11 July 2008
Morocco court fines Al-Jazeera bureau chief, rights activist, for spreading false information
RABAT, Morocco (AP) - A court fined the Al-Jazeera bureau chief in Morocco and a human rights campaigner the equivalent of US$6,945 (euro4,385) each on Friday on charges of conspiracy and spreading false information.
Hassan Rachidi and Ibrahim Sbai Ellail, an activist from the Moroccan Center for Human Rights, were charged following June 7 clashes between security forces and demonstrators in the southwestern port city of Sidi Ifni who protested poverty and unemployment.
Moroccan authorities rejected as "false" and "absurd" Al-Jazeera reports of deaths in Sidi Ifni at the time. Authorities said 48 people were injured, including 28 police officers, but that there were no deaths. Although Al-Jazeera reported the government's denial, the chief prosecutor's office in Rabat, the capital, ordered a probe to determine the origin of the report of deaths.
Rachidi was interrogated by the judiciary police for four hours and he was charged on June 14 with publishing false information and conspiracy. The Moroccan Information Ministry withdrew his media accreditation.
In May, Morocco suspended Al-Jazeera's daily television bulletin covering the Maghreb countries, Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia, Libya and Mauritania, from its studios in the Moroccan capital.
The decision, according to Khalid Naciri, the Moroccan information minister and spokesman for the government, was due to "technical and legal issues."
Hassan Rachidi and Ibrahim Sbai Ellail, an activist from the Moroccan Center for Human Rights, were charged following June 7 clashes between security forces and demonstrators in the southwestern port city of Sidi Ifni who protested poverty and unemployment.
Moroccan authorities rejected as "false" and "absurd" Al-Jazeera reports of deaths in Sidi Ifni at the time. Authorities said 48 people were injured, including 28 police officers, but that there were no deaths. Although Al-Jazeera reported the government's denial, the chief prosecutor's office in Rabat, the capital, ordered a probe to determine the origin of the report of deaths.
Rachidi was interrogated by the judiciary police for four hours and he was charged on June 14 with publishing false information and conspiracy. The Moroccan Information Ministry withdrew his media accreditation.
In May, Morocco suspended Al-Jazeera's daily television bulletin covering the Maghreb countries, Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia, Libya and Mauritania, from its studios in the Moroccan capital.
The decision, according to Khalid Naciri, the Moroccan information minister and spokesman for the government, was due to "technical and legal issues."
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