Life Works in Mysterious Ways

Khartoum - Sudan, Ameln Valley - Morocco, Cairo - Egypt, Öresten - Sweden

 Even the smallest choices you make, the smallest turns in your everyday life, can really take you to unimaginable places - or away from them. 

Out of the three far-away countries I've lived, Sudan is probably the most extreme of them all. Whilst I had my good share of drama and political corruption, kidnapping, a police who "captured" my passport and persecution (links to previous blog posts) - but the fact is that I could easily have been there right now, if small and seemingly unsignificant events and decisions hadn't taken me elsewhere. Today the largest country in Africa is about to split in two: the north (Sudan) and the south (South Sudan). To my big surprise, many seems to think that this should be the solution to all the problems that have haunted the Sudanese people for centuries. People think that wars will be solved, disputes will be settled and poverty and health problems will magically disappear. Surely you can hope that the long lasting conflicts between the north and south tribes will settle, but as always, things are not that simple. Even if that would happen, Darfur will still be caught in the middle, without any solution close at hand. Thousands will continue to die from starvation and diseases, caught in tribal conflicts (and governmental funded slaughters) and displaced when their villages are being burned. Many will end up in miserable refugee camps, either in Sudan or Chad. Most will have no hope of a safe future.

A couple of days ago, CNN reported that a major military offensive might be on its way in Southern Kordofan (a north Sudanese state). The report is based on field reports and satellite images and that has captured what looks like at least 89 military vehicles in the city of Kadugli, the state capital, which is being controlled by the Sudan Armed Forces (SAF). The vehicles included heavy ammunition transport trucks, light vehicles and possible towed artillery pieces. In May, Southern Sudanese forces attacked a UN Mission in Sudan convoy in Abyei. 22 soldiers died and Sudanese troops took control of the city, forcing Southern Sudanese forces out. According to the chief of Southern Sudan's mission to the United Nations, Abiyei belongs to both the north and the south until the people in the city decide otherwise. Now representatives os Sudan and South Sudan have signed an agreement of the immediate withdrawal of Sudanese troups from Abiyei, but the fightings in South Kordofan continue to threaten and claim lifes. My husband is somewhat safe in the capital, Khartoum, but my worries will not ease until I have him within an arms length again.

I spent a few months in Morocco and although I was safely placed in the more safe and touristy places, the ghost of the Moroccan-Western Sahara conflict loomed all over the country and haunted the people. The massive popular movements that have surged through the Arab world in the past few months reached Morocco in February and King Mohammed VI's (in power since 1999) response was a promise of "comprehensive constitutional reform", but protests that have claimed lifes have continued. Yesterday some 10.000 protesters gathered in Casablanca against the king's proposed constitutional changes. Meanwhile unemployment and poverty continues to be a huge problem and one of the major reasons for the unrest.

Most recently I had both the unluck and privilege to witness the popular Egyptian revolution first hand. While teargas and gunshots flew outside my window in central Cairo the Egyptian people gathered in their hundered of thousands in Tahrir Square and across the country to demand that president Hosni Mubarak (who had been in power for over 30 years) step down. After 18 days and hundereds of people dead the people got what they demanded and the military took over. Revisit my blog posts from January to February for personal reports, videos and photos. Today Mubarak is charged with the deaths of the protesters and is in custody in a military hospital in Sharm al-Sheikh after having heart problems. Now his lawyer says that he's also suffering from stomach cancer. The expected presidential election is to be held in December and the parlamentary election is proposed to take place in September which has caused some concerns as new public opinion survey predicts that the islamistic Muslim Brotherhood will by then have gained influence over the consitution.

Meanwhile, in safe Sweden, the politics are swaying to the right, slowly but steadily. The taxes have been cut and apparently the economy is growing, the budget is balanced and unemployment is declining. Even so, long term sick-listed people are loosing their sickness benefits and declined economical benefits from the social services they are forced into work despite of cancer, heavy depressions or no ability to move their bodies. And now midsummer is approaching with dancing around the pole, sunset after 10 PM, herring and other wierd traditions and rituals. As much as I appreciate all the odd experiences in faraway countries, I think I'll spend a few years in my country. I may think its dull or even boring at times, but at least I'll be safely away from violent uprisings, teargas, kidnapping and shootings. The only thing missing is to share the safety with my beloved husband.

North Africa Protests - Twitter

All those who are courageously fighting evil regimes, follow me on Twitter and I'll retweet your important messages in English and Swedish: @bloodyredsaga. 

Stay strong and please remember that the people throughout the world is with you and that we're doing our very best to change the passivity and cowardice of our governments as well as international organs with the power to intervene.

Independence for Western Sahara

Outside Laayoune, Western Sahara

The Moroccans are a proud people, with a relatively open society that is steadily moving towards a just legal system and acceptance of diversity, except on one matter. If you're planning of going there, I only have one advice; do not discuss the status of Western Sahara unless you're prepared for a heated argument. The opinion of the rest of the world lean towards the recognition of the area as an independent state, but in Morocco, even the most educated and aware people refuse to accknowledge the suppression of hundered thousands of people.

The region had been under Spanish rule for almost a hundered years when the International Court of Justice in 1975 decided to reject Morocco's and Mauretania's claims of the territory. Spain agreed to arrange a referendum, as the International Court of Justice recognized the Saharawis' right to self-determination. But Morocco countered with the "Green March", sending 300.000 Moroccans into the territory for settlement. But the Moroccans' version of the story is a tiny bit different:

On the 6th of November 1975, civilian Moroccans marched across Moroccan Sahara seeking independence from Spain. This was known as the "Green March", because green symbolised peace. Spain finally came to an agreement with Morocco for independence of Moroccan Sahara.

- Moroccansaharawi.com

This happening forced Spain to a settlement with Morocco and Mauretania - the Madrid Agreement. Morocco got two thirds in the north and Mauretania got the left-overs, ending the Spanish colonial rule. A couple of months later, the Polisario declared the Saharan Arab Democratic Republic (SADR). Two years later, the Mauretanian government made a peace deal with Polisario after a coup, and resigned all territorial claims, resulting in further Moroccan occupation.

Guerilla wars between Polisario and Morocco occured until 1991 and an attempted referendum lead by the United Nations Mission for a Referendum in Western Sahara  (MINURSO) failed. Talks and negotiations between different parties have been an ongoing process ever since, without any progress. A couple of weeks ago blood was shed during a clash between Moroccan security forces and what was reputedly preaceful protesters near Laayoune, the capital of Western Sahara. The protesters had gathered at a camp outside the city to protest against the harsh Moroccan rule and were raided by the Moroccan army and police. Some 20.000 Sahrawis had gathered at the camps for over a month, mostly ignored by the press. According to Morocco, 10 out of 12 dead belonged to the security forces. Polisario however, claims that 20 died and around 1000 were wounded in the clash. Spain are now accusing Morocco for war crimes against humanity.

The situation today according to Morocco is as follows:

Although Moroccan Sahara gained independence from Spanish control, a small group known as "Polisario" (supported by the Algerian government and some communist countries throuout the cold war), refused to be governed by Morocco. This led to many Moroccan Saharawi civilians being kidnapped by the Polisario, taken to Tindouf in Algeria and kept as refugees.

Although some have managed to escape and return to Morocco, many are still under the control of  the Polisario and Algerian government.

- Moroccansaharawi.com

The UN recognize Polisario as the legitimate representative of the Sahrawi people. The EU, although not recognizing the SADR, supports the right of self-determination of the Sahrawi people, but does not recognize the Polisario front. The African Union (AU) fully recognize the SADR. The Arab League supports Morocco's claims of the region.

Whichever way you look at it (and I'm not going to write down more things that can be googled) it's clear that neither Morocco or Polisario are playing clean - crimes have been committed on both sides. Rabat is currently offering Western Sahara autonomy, but Polisario are still demanding a referendum for complete independence. The region is occupied, there is no better term for it, and it is my opinion that Morocco should recognize this and give the Western Sahara the independence they have sought for so long. It is my wish that the people of Morocco will realize this, have the courage to stand up and put pressure on the government.

Culture Crashes

There's been a lot of talk about Sweden's  failure in integrating its immigrants. Some blame it solely on the Swedes, that they are discriminating and unsympathetic. This may be true, but it's only one reason of a complex situation. To get a better understanding of the difficulties of integration into a new society, all you have to do is to travel abroad, to any country which some of the immigrants are representing in our society. The only societies outside of Sweden that I can claim to have some kind of knowledge about is Morocco and Sudan, in which the latter is the one that is furthest away from my own.

When I found out that I was going to Sudan, it was on pretty short notice, but I did my best to get as prepared as possible. Except for the traditional travel preparations like basic phrases, some 15 different vaccinations, passport and the like, I did some reading about the culture. I was already aware of the culture crashes I would experience, although I didn't have a clear picture of which these crashes would be. Which ever way I looked, I always ended up focusing on the Muslim society. I had never lived in one before and had all the expectations, fears and prejudices that everyone else has that don't have a closer knowledge of it. I was going to the capital, Khartoum, and was a 100% sure that I would have to cover my hair whenever I stepped out of the house, that I shouldn't look men in the eye and that I couldn't discuss politics or religion as such.

I landed on a midnight in the end of August. It was some 40 degrees Celcius, humid and a minor sand storm, haboob, was brushing my face. We went straight to the house, which had lost the electricity because of the haboob and it wasn't until the next morning that I got to see where I had landed. I wanted a cold drink, so nervously I covered up, wrapped my head in a scarf, carefully tucking in all visible hair strands, and went out to look for the closest shop. The houses in the neighbourhood were all secured with high walls and guards, the dust road was uneven and the sun was merciless and - everyone was looking at me. 

Not long after, when I had befriended several westerners in the area, I learned that it wasn't required to cover your hair, at least not for a westerner. Looking a man in the eye or shaking his hand was usually not a problem either. Sure, there were those that were more conservative than others, but those were a minority. Basically I learned that most of the things I had expected and feared about this society, weren't true at all. 

The conclusion is that even though I eventually found my place in the Sudanese society, accepted and got accepted, I never got integrated. True, I didn't live there long enough to get the chance to fully integrate and I didn't have time to learn the language fluently. And truth his, even if I would have had the chance, I don't think I'd ever be able to integrate fully. I would, of course, follow the laws, live among them, befriend them and love them, but I would never become a Sudanese. But what's more important is that it wouldn't matter, because I would be accepted anyways. Even if I would never be exactily like those who were born there, they would still see me as an equal and welcome me into their society. So, if the immigrants in Sweden do the same, which most of them do, why can't we treat them the same way as they would treat us?

Africa in my Heart

When I was a child, my uncle was a sailor. He travelled the world and a few months later he came home with small gifts and great stories. I could sit and listen to these stories for ages and the once that fascinated me the most was those of the wilderness, where song and dance colors the garment that the locals wear. I loved to listen to how different things were there, how happy people were, even if they barely had food and clean water for the day. Needless to say, my uncle became my great role model.

At that time, my affection for Africa was born. I was still a child when I felt the need of going there. Maybe I lived in Africa in a previous life, and my uncle was the one who reminded me of it. I don't know, but from then on, I knew that one day I will move to Africa.

I'm not there yet. Yes, I've visited Sudan and Morocco for a few months each, but that wasn't enough. I want to find that perfect place, in the coutskirts of a city, close by white sandy beaches and turquoise waters. I want to make friends with the wonderful people that always has a smile on their faces even when they suffer. I want to climb the mountains, camp in the wilderness, trekk in the jungles and dive the deep blue, full of colourful fishes, dolphines, whales and sharks. One day I will find that place, me and the love of my life.

So thank you, dear uncle, for showing me the path that is so right for me. I'll forever be greateful and I trust in your lifestyle. Because after all the traveling you made, you found the place of your dreams; the breathtaking Iceland. And if you move onwards to different locations, then I know that that too is what you're meant to do.

I know we've had a fall out, you and me, but I hope from the bottom of my heart and soul that our relationship will develop into what it used to be. I love you and your wonderful family.

A Floody Merry Christmas...

First of all I have to admit that I don’t have any christmas feelings at all. Winter in Morocco can obviously not be compared with the northern European one. There is no snow, no cold, no traditional christmas food and no family gathering. The plan was to go to Tafraoute, some five hours south east of Agadir. It’s a village in the Ameln Valley up in the Anti Atlas Mountains surrounded by red granite mountains. I had really looked forward to spend a few christmas days there, but the rain has more or less stopped any activity in Morocco. The dead dry river banks are now filled with wild rain water crashing into the Atlantic and according to what little I could understand from the TV, a few people have died in the floodings. So, the trip to the mountains just have to be postponed and I’ll have to do my best to gather all the christmas feelings I can home in Taghazout.

At least I dressed up in as much red clothes and accesories as I could, and invested in a big bottle of Coca Cola as substitute for the much longed for Julmust. I’ve done my best with the christmas cleaning as I could, but that’s easier said than done with water pouring in everywhere. And no, I don’t live in a mud house, but there is water coming in from the main door, and for that I can do little but clean the worst up.

Electricity has been out since last night and didn’t come back until a couple of hours ago, and the internet is down as well. All thanks to the heavy raining I suppose. All Moroccans are happy about the rain, and I suppose that I should be too. It will help the farmers, fill up water tanks, feed more people and in a week or so the hills and fields will once more be green. But I can’t help to feel sorry for myself for not being able to do anything special for christmas. But oh well, you can’t have everything in this world eh!

I’m thinking a lot about my family back home in Sweden and hope that they’re ok. Although not considered a religious person, christmas is still an important holiday for me. Not because of silly traditions but because of the cozy family gatherings when everyone is happy and the kids are exhaulted with the waiting for Santa. I wish I could be there to hug them and wish them a merry christmas. God knows they deserve one!

Anyways, Merry Christmas to all of you!

With Love,

Maria

Things I've learned about Morocco:

- If someone calls you fat, don't take it as an insult or even something negative, it's simply said as a fact that your body mass is above average, which is not a problem at all.

- Beware of gigantic cockroaches that will try to strangle you in your sleep. Easiest way to get one to sleep with the fishes - and to teach his relatives a lesson - is to run for the kitchen and turn the gass fully on. Then crawl along the floor towards the exit while holding your breath. When two minutes have passed, light a match, throw it in and run for cover. Watch as the sooty remains of the motherfucker curl up in the heat. Don't forget to be fully insured.

- Being on the road (no matter if it's as a pedestrian, in a car, bus, motorbike or anything else that moves on a road) is a matter of life and death. The general rule of driving is to honk whenever there are other vehicles or people around, flash your headlights when you want to take over, no matter if there are oncoming cars in the opposite lane or not. 34 people are killed in traffic every day here.

- Paper work is serious business, and the supposedly simple procedure of getting a birth certificate can take weeks and several visits to a varying amount of offices and authorities. You may be able to half this time if you're willing to be "nice" to the officers, meaning fiving them money under the table,

- The waves of the wild Atlantic is highly recommended for anyone who wants to:

a) feel like a child again

b) drown if you can't swim or are not aware of the strong under currents

c) surf

- Tea is mandatory in every Moroccan houshold and is easy to like and get addicted too.

- Useful words to know in Moroccan Arabic are:

labas - hello

bkheer - hello/how are you?

hamdlillah - thanks to God (for example "bkeer hamdlillah", meaning "good, thank you"

safi - enough

srakzit kbir - huge cockroach

- Discussing the royal family and the West Sahara is a bad idea unless you want to get in trouble.

- The Moroccan sand is EVIL and sticks to every part of your body unless you're being very firm with it.

- Saying "ksss ksss" in public does not mean that you're calling for a cat, but that you're a prostitute who wants to let other people know that you're open for business.

I expect the list to be longer as time passes and I learn more useful things. I will keep you posted.

How wonderful life is!

Ah, how wonderful life can be! Every day I wake up and see the sun shine through the window. I get out of bed, get dressed and open the door to the yard. Outside there is no cold hitting my face, no rain washing my skin, just the sun warming my smiling face. If I then open the door to the street, I’ll meet equally smiling people, all heading to or from the beach, where wild waves are crashing and sea gulls are diving for the remnants of blue fishing boats. My bag is packed with a bottle of water and a thin blanket, not much else is necessary for a short escape. The water will moisten my throat when it goes dry and my belly with the love for life when it goes empty. I had forgotten what it was like to be genuinely happy, to feel true bliss. Now I know.

It’s windy today, just like it’s supposed to be at this time of year. The surf season has just started and the hostels and riyads are starting to get filled with happy surfers. They have been here before, they all have. Taghazout is the kind of place that leaves a person wanting for more, that stays with you throughout the year until it’s time for next holiday and your ticket is booked without you even thinking about it. It draws you towards its enchanting bosom year after year, until one day when you wake up and realize that you’re retired from work and would like nothing else than end your last few years in the place that has welcomed you for so long. It didn’t take years for me to realize that this is where I want to live, maybe not for the rest of my life, but long enough to build a solid ground for a new life.