Stories from the Somerville-Tiznit Sister Cities (part 3)

by karen Krolak

I was feeling fairly droopy by the time we boarded our Royal Air Maroc flight to Casablanca and was not in the mood for the seat swapping chaos that erupted in our row. As soon as everyone settled in and snapped on their seat belts, I curled up for a nap. My eyes were shut before the overhead bins were. Thankfully, the scent of steak tips drew me out of my slumber. As I unfolded my tray table, the woman who had won the window seat next to me began to chat. I wasn't fully conscious when she introduced herself so I can not recall her name.

As I pulled the foil off my meal, she explained that she was looking forward to spending three weeks with her family in Liberia. Nine years ago, she had moved to Amsterdam and she described the awkwardness of being a bridge between these two cultures. "Luckily, I write," she proclaimed. "I have lived through a lot. When an unpleasant thought or memory comes into my head, I write it down so that I do not have to remember it," she continued.

Although she had never heard of Tiznit, she was extremely curious about the Sister Cities project. When I told her about Monkeyhouse in the middle of lunch somewhere over France, we unfortunately found that friction between traditional and contemporary art forms. Her eyes glanced down as she confided that she had never heard of a choreographer before she arrived in Holland. "I never realized that there were people who made the dances." she admitted with a tinge of embarrassment. I, however, was equally mortified by my ignorance of African dances and other cultures where dances were proudly passed down through generations.

We found common ground, though, once we started talking about choreography as moving with meaning. As I began describing projects Monkeyhouse has done with at risk teens, her broad smile beamed. She had a fifteen year old daughter who was finally able to join her in Amsterdam four years ago. Apparently, the culture shock had been much harder for her daughter. "If it hadn't been for her dance therapist, I don't know how she would have survived," my seatmate announced. "You should see what happens to her when she dances. I write but she can only express herself in movement. I wish women in my hometown had help like this but they would never go to therapy," she said.

At the time I wasn't sharp enough to respond. I have been wondering since then, however. Do you think social dances provide a cultural form of dance therapy? Do specific dances help people to express certain emotions or wordless ideas? Any thoughts?

to be continued...


To comply with recent legislation regarding blogging, I should mention that my trip was sponsored by University of the Middle East project, The U.S. Department of State, Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs in concert with Sister Cities International, the City of Somerville, the City of Tiznit and the Moroccan American Cultural Center. Readers should know that my experiences would not be typical for anyone else.

Stories from the Somerville-Tiznit Sister Cities (part 2)

by karen Krolak



Part of a continuing series on Karen and Jason's trip to Morocco with 28 other people from Somerville...including Mayor Curtatone.

With our flight delay, we only had a four hour layover in Amsterdam. Jason and I figured this gave us just enough time to dart in to Amsterdam Centraal station for a taste of Dutch culture. Being from Boston, we were not worried by the snow flurries as we landed. Unbeknownst to us, though, Holland was in the midst of its largest snowstorm in 10 years. We didn't realize that the public transportation systems were ensnared in chaos until we crowded into the throngs of tourists waiting at Schiphol station. By the time we snagged a train and entered Amsterdam Centraal, we had less than 55 minutes to explore the area.

As we strolled around the harbor, I pulled a luscious ball of brown alpaca out of my pocket and started crocheting. It is a habit that began during my work on mapping movements as part of my Somerville Arts Council Fellowship. Sometimes these airy fiber tangles evolve into cowls or lacy snoods which are surprisingly warm. The brown alpaca ball was not content in my pocket, however. Jason kept noticing when it lurched into the slush and would chase after it. Cyclists who whizzed by us must have been fairly amused by our odd tourist dance.

We turned down a bustling street lined with shops eventually but we did not have the inclination or time to pop into most of them. Having been a fan of Wasik's Cheese Shop in Wellesley for decades, though, we did check out the local cheese monger. (I have included the above photo for one of my fabulous students at Impulse Dance Center. She told me that all she wanted for Christmas was cheese. Really, how many teens are that sassy?)

Though our return train was delayed, we were blissfully unaware of how lucky we were to get back to the airport in time for our flight. According to Wikipedia,

In the Netherlands, snowfall on 17 December led to a shutdown of Utrecht Centraal, by far the largest rail hub in the country. Problems arose in early afternoon, followed by heavy delays. Eventually, almost all scheduled train services were cancelled, as a means of maintaining those that were running Meanwhile, on highways in the Netherlands snowfall on 17 December led to the busiest morning rush hour of 2009, with a total of 671 kilometres (417 mi) of traffic jams. On the A12, there was an 84-kilometre (52 mi) traffic jam.

In the line for customs, I recognized a few faces from our earlier flight. I asked if any of them were with the Sister Cities program and that is how we met half of the educators from Somerville who were traveling with us. They had also ventured in to the city and were giddy with stories of their transit adventures. After getting our passports stamped, Jason and I rushed through a duty free shop for some tulip bulbs for my father and arrived at our gate as the plane was boarding. Our next stop was Casablanca.

to be continued...

To comply with recent legislation regarding blogging, I should mention that my trip was sponsored by University of the Middle East project, The U.S. Department of State, Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs in concert with Sister Cities International, the City of Somerville, the City of Tiznit and the Moroccan American Cultural Center. Readers should know that my experiences would not be typical for anyone else...especially those resist the urge to crochet in snowstorms.