Moroccan Adoption 101

I spoke to a mother this morning on the playground who is adopting a little boy. She is originally from Morocco but now resides in France, where the average time it takes to adopt is 5 years. In comparison, it only takes 5 to 6 months in Morocco!


Here's a bit of what I learned about adoption in Morocco:

*Adoptive parents must be Muslim. It is preferred that both are, but they accept couples in which only one is Muslim. It is rumored that this isn’t the case if you have enough money, but I have never heard of such an agreement

*It is forbidden for foreigners to adopt girls. No one seems to know why, except that they think they may be protecting them by keeping them in Morocco

*If the child is under 1 to 2 years old, the orphanage decides for you which one. As one adoptive mother put it today, “They pointed and said, ‘Here is your son’”. Past 1 to 2 years old, parents get to choose between 2-3 children at this particular orphanage, and they are allowed only 3 minutes with each child before choosing

*Girls are adopted more frequently, as Moroccans feel it is important to rescue the less fortunate and “susceptible” (can't think of a better word)

*No one adopts the disabled children. This includes Down Syndrome, Autism, and very high functioning disabled children. Some Muslims consider a disabled child a curse, while others consider it a very prestigious honor and test from God. Regardless, disabled children are usually looked down in the community, and there are very few resources for them

*The disabled children also do not move to the next orphanage when they reach 6 years of age as the other children do, but stay in the same orphanage for the remainder of their life. Of the dozens of disabled children at the orphanage, the average lifespan is 26 years old


I could go on and on about what I’ve learned thus far about the adoption process, or lack thereof in some cases. It truly breaks my heart, and I know wholeheartedly that I will adopt some day. While it isn’t much and there are by far more abandoned children than adoptive parents, as the mother said on the playground today as she scanned the playground with sorrowful eyes, “My hope is to do as much as I can. Every little bit helps”.

Thursday and Friday are government holidays here in Morocco and we are forbidden to work at the orphanage on such days. Therefore, we have a four day weekend! In all honesty I would prefer and hang with the kiddos, but since we have time to explore, most of us are doing just that. The first stop is Fes, where we will be for the next two nights. It is considered to be the largest car-free urban area in the entire world. It is so huge that most locals don’t even go into the medina without a guide, with narrow and windy being the street themes. After Fes some of us will return for a night in Rabat before heading over to Marrakech, which is known for its nightlife. I also put a map of Morocco at the bottom of the page in case you want to see where everything is in relation to where I am now (the desert was in Merzouga). I cropped the Western Sahara out as I know I won't be traveling there ;)

I may or may not be able to blog in between trips, but if I don’t, have a great weekend! Please pray for my health as I am STILL sick and without a voice. Thanks to everyone for the encouragement and prayers!

Life is a Highway

Thankfully my head cold turned laryngitis was a bit better today and I was able to go to the orphanage. I’m on day 4 of no voice, but at least today sounds come out when I try to speak! The cough is getting really old; I pray that it will be better before the long weekend.

I could go on about how frustrated I am with Wicked Witch of the West (WWW), and how today was a long day because she was there, but I instead want to fill you in on what I did this afternoon.

I was asked by the head mistress to accompany a "house" (group of children that live together) on a field trip this afternoon with another CCS volunteer and two British volunteers. We were led back to the orange room where 11 expectant two and three year olds were preparing for their big excursion. We hopped into a large van and we madly tried to buckle kids in as car seats are unheard of, and Moroccan drivers are easily 20x worse than NYC cab drivers (Side note: who knew 2 lanes drawn on the street could mean 4 rows of orchestrated chaos weaving in and out?! Oh, did I mention we saw a bloodied man in the middle of the street today with chalk around him? Yeah, not cool).

So ANYWAYS, back to my important story. Yes. Eleven two and three year olds bouncing up and down in a van as we weave in and out of traffic, stop WAY shorter than I would ever stop (take that, Jo!!), etc. etc. The kids were stunned. They sat there with their mouths open, silent as could be, with their little eyes scanning each and everything we passed. I asked through one of the British chicks as my interpreter when the last time was that they got to go out. Expecting maybe 6 months as the longest possibility, I was stunned to hear that they've NEVER LEFT THE ORPHANAGE. These two and three year olds, most of whom were brought to the orphanage just hours old after being dumped by their mothers, had never left. Zyed in the back all of a sudden lets out a scream, scrunched up his eyes, and had sheer panic written all over his face. I held his hand from afar and looked around as every other kid was doing the same.

It was then that I realized they had never felt the wind on their face. Such small things that we take for granted and don't even think about that these kids have never experienced! What started out as terror later turned to joy as we zoomed our way home over speed bumps and around sharp turns. They clapped with joy and tried to get extra air as we flew around Rabat stopping first for chocolate bars and chocolate milk at the river and later at the Marjane (Moroccan Wal Mart) for ice cream. When we arrived back at the orphanage the van was quickly surrounded by the remaining children who looked on as we were celebrities about to enter the red carpet.

As you drive around town wherever you may be, roll down your window and feel the wind on your face as the kiddos did today for the first time. May it be a reminder of how big, yet how small our world truly is.

The Sahara Freakin' Desert!!!

****WARNING: This is a novel. I've included bullet points at the bottom!!****

This past weekend trip was so much more than I could have ever imagined. A total of 12 of us went, along with a guide by the name of Hamza, a driver, and his son. I later learned that Hamza lives in the desert himself 11 hours away from Rabat, with his only form of transportation the public bus system. When he’s not leading trips to the desert, he fixes computers for a living in his home village for meager payment. Moroccans are such hard workers!

We began our 9+ hour drive early Friday morning, with the area quickly dissolving into countryside. There’s so much to see and take in, it was impossible for me to sleep! Mohamed our program director decided to go home for the long weekend and accompanied us on the first leg of our journey. After a 3 hour trek with us, he still had an additional 8 hour public bus ride. Lucky for me I sat next to him and was able to ask my hundreds of questions as we passed through countryside, herds of goats and sheep, tiny villages with nothing but shacks, and poverty. We weaved our way over to Meknes, land of Roman ruins where I will visit in later, and then through the Middle Atlas to Irfane. Irfane looks like Leavenworth somehow got lost amidst the countryside and mountain region, complete with Swiss style buildings, posh cars, and places to ski in the winter. It was pretty crazy to say the least!

After Irfane we headed to Azrou, where we were to stay the night. It was SUCH a cool little town with many colors, tiny hole-in-the-wall stores, and cafes filled with only men and all of them facing the street and talking about gossip. It is a societal no-no for women to be seen in a café in smaller towns as you will be presumed a prostitute, and there definitely was no way it’d be safe to take pictures. After some lunch and a brief siesta we headed up the hill above Azrou and went for a “nature hike” that included bush whacking, branch stomping, and the occasional random Moroccan family picnic in what seemed like the middle of nowhere. There was no trail, but our guide seemed to know where he was going. We were greeted by a huge mess of monkeys about 2/3 through our hike, and had a ton of fun watching them swoop from tree to tree or chase the tourists that got too close. After a bit more hiking we ended up in a random super tiny village complete with little boys on donkeys, special rocks and pottery for sale, and the largest (dead) tree in Africa.

Back in Azrou we got stuck in a traffic jam because there was a huge donkey cart leading a dowry process for one of the local girls. There was a sheep and jewelry among the dowry offerings and all of the women from the town were surrounding it and singing as they went down “Main Street”. We had an awesome meal with other hotel guests and trekked upstairs to bed before our long journey the following morning. At about 10:30 there was a bunch of noise on the street below, and a few minutes later the loudest chanting I’ve ever heard started radiating up to our fourth story window. I wish I was able to record it- we were all laughing because it was so random (and didn’t really end until 4ish when there was a parade once again down Main Street!), but it was so beautiful! We learned later it had to do with the wedding.

The next morning we continued on the road, making our way up to the High Atlas. We saw nomad camps, mountains higher than I ever thought possible in Morocco, fields of wild rosemary, people selling fresh honey in Coca Cola bottles, and entire towns built out of a clay-like dirt into the hillsides. It was BEAUTIFUL! I had no idea how diverse one small country could be, and how so much of it looks like it hasn’t changed in hundreds and even possibly thousands of years. Despite that, there was at least one Coca Cola sign in every single little village/town we passed!!! Whoever is head of marketing for Coke, gold star for you! Our last stop before the desert was in Erfoud where we toured a marble and fossil factory.

After passing tiny town after tiny town, groups of oases, and getting super cold water from one of the last stores available, we ended up in Merzouga. The highway basically ends at the Sahara desert, and so we off roaded it to a hotel that is made of mud and straw where we had tea before heading into the great unknown. Our guide wrapped our heads with the traditional wrap, and jumped onto our camels to ride into the sunset. After horseback riding most of my life, I can still say that riding camels is a lot harder than it looks, and I still have “camel butt” from sitting on something so uncomfortable! The dunes were a golden orange color that I’ve never seen before, and the peace and stillness surrounding us was overwhelming. Despite being tossed every which way on my camel, I was in a photographer’s heaven!! It was so surreal, and everyone was silent for most of our hour and a half ride into the desert.

Just as the sun had set, we ended up at a camp nestled next to a very large dune (I’m thinking at least 2,000 feet. We could see the Algerian border!). We had a traditional meal of tanjine, bread, rice salad, and fruit. The sky became so dark that we saw several shooting stars, all of the constellations, and the “star dust” that one usually only sees in pictures. After dinner there was traditional drumming and singing, and at midnight we fell asleep amongst the stars and the 95ish* heat. In the middle of the night I awoke to one of the other girls screaming that something hurt. It turns out a bug crawled into her ear as she was asleep and started biting her repeatedly. Poor girl! Other than that it was pretty uneventful, and I got up before dawn to get some shots of the camp as the sun rose. The rays shot out of the sun at all angles and it was so gorgeous and peaceful! We rode back as the temperature continued to rise with the sun, and began a very long 11 hour journey home.

I was asked to stay home from work today due to my laryngitis, and I hope I’ll be able to go tomorrow. It’s so frustrating that a little head cold has turned into no voice and therefore no work! I was however able to go see the Chellah with other volunteers. If anyone knows me well, they know I was in absolute heaven there and didn’t want to leave! I’ll have to go back at sunset and photograph the heck out of it.

As promised, here are the bullet points for those who didn’t want to read my novel ;)

• Drove to Arzou- Hiked, saw monkeys, and spent the night

• Continued drive through Middle and High Atlas mountains, passing wild rosemary and ancient villages. Saw a marble and fossil factory.

• Went to the Sahara Freakin’ Desert!!!!!!!! Rode a camel. It hurts like a mother, if you’re at all curious

Below are some pictures; it was a lot harder that I thought it would be trying to take pics as I was bouncing up and down on the camel. It at least gives you a taste of what I saw!

Camel Shadow!!

The trip home. Isn't the shadow a perfect addition to the shot?!

That's right, me on a camel. Smelly Cat voice and all!

Sunrise

Our camp. We could sleep in the tent, but it was so hot that all 12 of us slept on that rug thing in front like sardines.

Part of our group heading into camp

Moroccan mint tea! Despite it being WELL over 100, it still tasted splendid.

"You don't have to understand the desert: all you have to do is contemplate a simple grain of sand, and you will see in it all the marvels of creation."

-The Alchemist

Are we there yet?

After an 11 hour van ride, I'm back safely in Rabat! There were no altercations with the Algerian border we could see from camp, no sand storms like in the movies, and only one minor incident with a bug crawling inside another volunteer's ear and biting her in the middle of the night!!

IT WAS AWESOME. And I'm not being sarcastic!

I'm exhausted and have laryngitis so I want to get to sleep before another big day at the orphanage. Will be sure to post all about it tomorrow!

A Day of Rest

Salam! I woke up lightheaded this morning and with a headache and sore throat, and after considering the possibility of (gracefully) fainting with all the kiddos around me, I decided to “call in sick” today. After a quick breakfast I went back to bed until 11:30, which was SO nice and SO needed! Still not feeling well now, but hanging in there.

We’re going to the Sahara Desert tomorrow! Tomorrow is Oued Ed-Dahab Day in Morocco when they celebrate the Desert joining Morocco, or something like that. Couldn’t even find it on Google, so I’m not sure what the deal is ;). It is a 9 hour drive to the Desert and 12 of us are going. We will leave early tomorrow morning and arrive in Azrou where we will go for a hike in the forest with monkeys and spend the night in a hotel before continuing our journey. After some additional stops, we will make it to the Desert just before sunset. The plan is to jump on a bunch of camels and ride out to a camp in the middle of nowhere where we will sleep under the stars. I am beyond excited, to say the least!!!! Will you pray that I feel better for the long journey tomorrow? Especially my stomach? Nine hours in a bus with an upset stomach does NOT sound fun to me!

I obviously won’t be able to blog while riding a camel through the Sahara Desert. Hope everyone has an awesome weekend. I’ll leave you with some pictures from the last few days! I really haven’t had time to photograph and it’s not always super safe, so these are just random snapshots that I’ve been able to grab quickly and discreetly.

Roommate Chatter:

Nicole: Hey Katie, I'm thirsty. Any idea where I can get some water? (Looks down at the 2 gallons Katie plans on bringing to the Sahara, despite it being included in the trip)

Sarra: You guys are going to need a cargo camel. Do you realize how hot that water is going to be before you even get to the desert?

Katie: I know! But I really don't like being thirsty. I don't mind room temperature

Sarra: I'm sorry, did you not hear? You're going to the Sahara Desert tomorrow. That water is going taste like piss. Actually, your piss is probably going to be colder than that water!


We're going to the Sahara Desert tomorrow!!!!

Tex-Mex in Morocco. Go figure!

McDonalds. Apparently only the rich eat here

You guessed it, it's a stop sign! Like my mom bag?!

A series of unfortunate "episodes"

Salam! Things went much smoother today at the orphanage. We decided that I would go to my class as usual and Abdoullah came to check on me a couple of hours into it. There was one point when I was led to the back room and told to stay there as she hit all of the kids without me looking, but other than that, it went much smoother!

I was in charge of 6 kids today outside in the garden where there is a somewhat functional playground and a load of garbage for them to play with. Zacharias is one of the boys, and he has got to be about 4. He has this cute little smile and cross eyes that he occasionally wears glasses for. He appears to have some form of autism and while he doesn’t speak himself, he understands what you are saying to him.

Zacharias overreacts to tactile and various other inputs, often putting things in his mouth, smelling things, and throwing huge tantrums when something doesn’t go his way. Back home Zacharias would be put in several different forms of therapy, most likely including seeing a psychological therapist, an occupational therapist, and go through some sort of sensory re-integration (I’m guessing on all of this- I really don’t have any idea EXACTLY what he or someone like him would need). Here, he is shunned from his housemates, yelled at to stop crying when he can’t control his feelings, and pushed off to the side when experiencing a tantrum.

Today I grabbed him during an episode after another boy stole a piece of garbage he had. I held him tightly in my arms, bouncing my legs and “shh-ing” in his ear. He repeatedly hit me and arched his back at first, but eventually calmed down, started sucking his thumb, and stopped crying. It’d take 5-10 minutes before it would happen again, and the nurses would look at me like I was hurting him when holding him so tightly, but it totally worked, and he was much happier after feeling the movement of my body and being soothed. Eventually I’d even get a smile or two! I really like working with him and trying to figure out how best to accommodate a boy that will most likely spend the rest of his life in that orphanage due to his disability.

In the midst of soothing, chasing after, and entertaining the 6 boys I was in charge of, a major stomach ache hit me! I started running toward the orphanage, yelling “un toilette, un toilette!” and eventually found the wash room in the back of the building. Much to my surprise, there were only squatter toilets available, which is basically a ceramic hole in the floor. It was quite an interesting experience to say the least, and the several proceeding visits just made it that much more…. interesting…

Tonight I went out with a few other volunteers to Tex-Mex here in Rabat to celebrate Ray’s 21st birthday. I had smoked salmon taco salad in a Tex-Mex restaurant in Morocco… Pretty crazy if you ask me! No one in Morocco drinks due to being Muslim so it’s few and far between that you can find places that serve alcohol. We were still able to have a good time, and met a few Americans on the way.
Off to bed before an early day of work tomorrow. Night!

Morocco: More than what's seen in Aladin...

Well, today was a much better day at the orphanage. The kids didn’t bite each other (as much as yesterday), run away (as much as yesterday), or pull my hair (as much as yesterday). In fact, the Wicked Witch of the West (WWW) wasn’t there either. (Editor’s Note: Yes, you got it, this is going to be a super inspirational post! :::insert sarcasm here:::: )

Allow me to back up, in all seriousness. Yesterday at the orphanage was awful. I arrived with a smile on my face and enough Kleenex and hand sanitizer for an army, and was told to go into a specific room (the people with disabilities didn’t need help this week). When the head mistress walked me in the nurse of the room started yelling in Arabic that she didn’t want me, motioning with her hands with all her might that I was not welcome and not needed. They got into a bit of a fight and the head mistress persisted that she wanted me in there. I quickly shuffled into the small dark room she had the kids in, and was told to sit down. Around me were 12 boys ages 3-5, and many of them ran up to me yelling “Mama!” Each child that got close to me was hit several times by thw nurse, as her goal was to have them stay seated on the bench. She proceeded to randomly hit and throw kids against the hard ceramic tiled wall if they were pushed off the bench or did anything to annoy her. A few minutes later someone was asked to come in and tend to bleeding heads on the same children, and I’m assuming it was from being thrown against the wall. Twelve super cute kiddos all crying at the same time in this small dark room and cowering behind every possible piece of furniture to be spared of her wrath was way too much, and I’m sorry to say it didn’t improve for the 4 hours I was there. Actually, there was one point when I was bouncing kids on my legs to keep them from crying and she yelled no at me and told me to go sit on the bench myself…. All the while I was thinking, this is SO not what I signed up for!!

I got into the van at the end of the first day and burst into tears. I was not only overwhelmed by her anger and hostility towards these helpless children, but the conditions they had in comparison to so many of the children I know at home. These kids’s only toys are all the garbage strewn about the playground, many of them ecstatic when they could find a random bottle cap, exploded battery, empty chip bag, and even glass (which I was NOT having!!). Working with the older boys, I also knew it was unlikely that they were going to be adopted, and the thought of them being virtuously institutionalized for the remained of their childhood just totally broke my heart. They craved attention in any and every form, begging to be loved and recognized. To think of all the kids at home have and the nothingness that overwhelms these children’s lives, it was overwhelming. I basically cried the rest of the day.

To be honest, I was really not looking forward to going today. I had gone into this with a high and mighty attitude that, “Sure, it’ll be hard, but I have so much experience with kids! I do it for a living! I’ll be just fine.” The thought of going back to something so overwhelming was not appealing whatsoever, but there was no way in hell I wasn’t going to go back. Today when I showed up there were different nurses and the mood was SO much more positive. Yes, the nurses were still stern and the head one had a wooden stick she would slap the kids with when they didn’t listen, but it wasn’t anything near the WWW. The kids were actually more mindful today, and I was finally able to experience their smiles, laughter, and contagious child-like ways without feeling like I was going to be put in time out. The sadness of the conditions was still there today, as was the typical three-year-old-boy-syndrome of throwing everything from feces to sand. That said, I hope to God that I don’t forget my frustration with their way of life as well as my passion to continue to fight and work with children such as these that need voices.

Another volunteer was flabbergasted when I told her the conditions of my first day. She suggested I speak to Mohamed, the director of the program over here, to make sure that he was aware of the situation. He too was surprised by the actions of the WWW nurse, and after some thought and discussion, told me that he will be coming in with me tomorrow. He was persistent that I switch rooms and get out of that situation, but I would prefer to give her one more shot in hopes that she was just having a really rotten day. I’m wary of having my program director coming in and playing Superman, as I don’t want to step on any toes. However, that is exactly what CCS is here for though, so we’ll see what happens.

This afternoon we had a class/discussion on Morocco, some of its history, and discussed plans for our upcoming weekend trips. It was so interesting learning more about the economical conditions of Morocco. The unemployment rate is 16-17% here, changing radically depending on crops and the weather and what work is available. The statistics are staggering, but I would prefer to play it safe on a public blog while here and share my findings when I’m back on home soil ;) As for weekend trips, we are headed to the Sahara Desert this Friday! I am super stoked and will be sure to let you know all about it.

For now, here are a few pics from the medina and the Kasbah des Oudaia yesterday. G’night!

PS- I just changed it so anyone can comment!

In the Kasbad des Oudaia

The first crosswalk I've seen in Morocco! We regularly cross 4-6 lanes of traffic with no crosswalk...

I'm pretty sure the cats rule this city... They're all over the place

The medina

Moroccan spices, nuts, and everything splendid