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Tag Archives: translator

A word on literacy

26 Saturday Mar 2016

Posted by seejanesblog in Morocco, Observations

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

arabic, cooking classes, cyrano de bergerac, Dar Basyma, Education, French, google translate, illiterate, learning languages, literacy, marrakech, Morocco, reading, recipes, riad, roxanne, stever martin, texting, texts, translator, writing

I take for granted that people know how to read and write. But in Morocco that’s not always the case.

One day I was home alone with our housekeeper / cook at Dar Basyma. I was without the aid of my constant interpreter / business partner and was excited about this chance to get to know her better. I pulled up the Google Translate iPhone app, typed my message and showed it to her in French. She shook her head no. Misunderstanding, I typed it in Arabic instead. Again, she shook her head. The look on her face jarred me to the realization that she cannot read. Not at all. Eventually I spoke into the app and it voice-translated, but not in Darija (Moroccan Arabic) so it was cumbersome and hard to understand. So we sat awkwardly in silence and smiled until Mokhtar came back and was able to help us “chat.”

Since then I’ve learned that guests have left her notes that she cannot read. And we’ve had some mishaps with household cleaning products being used for the wrong things, lotions put in the conditioner containers (because they’re both white), and using the wrong settings on the washing machine. And she has no ability to read texts or to proofread her own spoken texts to others.

I know this is more frustrating for her than it is for the rest of us. Our house man works well with her. They’re close friends and spend much of their time laughing and huddling together over their phones as he has become a sort of Cyrano de Bergerac, penning her texts to family members, suitors, and friends; like Steve Martin in ‘Roxanne.’ It’s sweet and it’s funny, but the bottom line is that it’s mostly sad that she can’t do this work herself.

As she tells it she was a girl who liked only to have fun (I believe it, as she’s always laughing and joking). She consistently ran away from school and finally just quit. School isn’t required and for sure not required for girls so there was no motivation for her to stay at the time. Now she regrets it. And as she’s in her mid- to late-30’s, so feels it’s too late for her now.

Since she teaches the cooking classes at Dar Basyma, I’m working to put together her recipes since she obviously has nothing written down! She’s an excellent cook and she communicates well without speaking fluent English or writing, but we have no record yet of any of her myriad dishes she prepares at Dar Basyma. It’s a big job that I will pursue on my next visit.

Her solution for our inability to speak to one another is for me to learn Arabic. As though that’s an easy (or quick) task! Since she speaks French and Arabic, to her that seems an easy solution. I’m trying…

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“There are Americans in the bar!”

12 Sunday Apr 2015

Posted by seejanesblog in Morocco

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Tags

Americans, communicating in morocco, communication, Goodyear, les kasbah des sables, marrakech, restaurant, translation, translator

When in Morocco, I’m not sure how many minutes – – or hours in a day go by when I don’t speak, except to say ‘bonjour’ or ‘Salaam’ to someone, usually a man. Since women are usually working at the office or at home, I generally come in contact with only men. Knowing enough English to ask if I am fine or how my family is doing, that’s the extent of their direct conversations with me. And my virtual lack of French and Arabic limit me to even less to initiate with them. I rely on interpretation. Which is draining on the interpreter.

And anyone who knows me, language is my thing. Ok, talking is my thing! I’m real good at it.

During business dealings, of which I’ve had many lately since I am in the middle of buying a riad/home in Marrakech, paragraphs or pages are spoken without my interjection. I stare out the window practically ignoring what’s happening around me, until my interpreter tells me what’s discussed.

On my last visit I went to a restaurant with friends (who speak French predominately), the proprietor was able to eek out a phrase in English (he too, is French): ‘There are Americans in the bar. Like home.’ What? There are Americans in the bar!? I NEVER see Americans in Morocco.

More beautiful words n’er were spoken!

The group walked by our table, happily chattering away in Midwestern- and Eastern-accents and I was thrilled! “I’m from the US,” I blurted out. “Ooooh, we are tooooo!” they screeched! And then began our conversation in fast-English! Washington State, Wisconsin, New Jersey…they were from all over. Eventually all 16 of the tour group was gathered at my table telling me about their experiences in Morocco. It was so fun and energizing. But alas, they were gone and I was left to daydream while the others at my table chatted on.

Below is my friend Raschida. She works at the Goodyear tire store in Guillez, Marrakech, Morocco.

IMG_0283

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