Whirlwind

We remember a time when the hours went by so slowly. We remember these moments now as relaxing and an opportunity to spend time with the family(except Hanne). This has changed radically, and is now giving us the tailspin. While we are saying goodbye to the students, and ending our careers as Arabic students in Western Sahara, we are also having loved ones visiting, end of the year party for our students and eagerly working with our new baby project concerning young women. The 13th Polisario congress is also coming up, and we are lucky enough to participate.

First was the family of Hanne that traveled the great desert. The were welcomed with great enthusiasm both from the family and the Norwegians. Apparently they fit perfectly in Sahara and is now also welcomed to stay for ever. Then there was Sjørgen. He has been taken into the family of Marta as one of their own, and has joined in on the heated discussions about gender differences. He is also joining us during the Congress in the liberated area.

Our project is taking shape as we speak. Still we don’t want to hold the project in a very tight leach. What we know now is that it is for young women in Imgale, they will be producing different textiles and traditional items typical for this region.

From our English class, we managed to create a show in the Idara (town hall), a end of the year party and ending by giving out diplomas. This was a major achievement for students and teachers, performing on stage or watching proudly.

The value of family life

One of the aspects I like best with the Saharawi society is the importance of family. As mentioned before is the big family never far away. When someone gets married the new couple usually settles down only few meters away from the mother of the wife. My Saharawi family lives about 60 meters away from my mothers family and is because of that quite “far” away from the rest, Saharawi standard of course. This is something my mother has expressed as well; she really wishes her house would be closer to the house of her mother and sisters.

As a Norwegian I find it hard to understand that 60 meters away from the rest is a long distance. In my Norwegian family all of my aunts and uncles live in different parts of the country, and we usually don’t see them more than once a year. I have always thought of this as a natural and good thing since it becomes so special when we actually meet. (When I was younger I actually told my parents that they should move away from my hometown when I got children of my own because I wanted my children to get the same good childhood memories as I got by travelling far to visit my grandparents across the country.) Now however, as it feels like a small part of me has become Saharawi, I really do understand why the Saharawi people value their big family so much in everyday life. Family means everything here. They are the ones that help you if you are sick, they take care of your children if you have to go to a meeting and they are the people you spend uncountable hours with over a glass of tea or three. It seams like almost everyone we meet are part of our family one way or an other, either as a cousin, a aunt of your father or as the brother of the uncle of your grandmothers second cousin on your fathers side. (Or was it your mothers side...?)

The everyday contact between the generations are very different in the camps from what I’m used to from my own family in Norway. We often see family members of the same gender and from different generations embracing each other, holding hands or resting under the same blanket. My little brother loves helping his grandparents with the lekanims (goats) and the older children spends a lot of time playing with and taking care of the younger ones. Many evenings are spent drinking tea under the stars in summer time or inside under a blanket in wintertime. And of course always together with other family members. Age doesn’t seem to matter as much here as it does back home. It doesn’t really matter how old you are as long as you are a likable person. And if you are not, that doesn’t really matter either because you are family. You share everything from rooms to plate to malhefas. I often tend to ask people about their age, and the answer I get is almost just as often that they don’t know. They often think the question is strange, but if I really need to know they suggest that we have a look on the birthdate on their ID card. You spend a lot of time with your family no matter how big an age difference there are.

I do understand that my mother wishes she could just call on her sisters through the walls of the tent, instead of walking 60 meters in the darkness only in the lights of a small flash light and the stars.

Happy Days

The new security situation had almost stolen our hope of going on the excursions we first had taken for granted, such as the renown trip to faraway Dakhla with the beautiful sand dunes. But that was before today, when we finally saw light at the end of the tunnel we so desperately have refused to shut down. We might really (insh Allah - lets not forget the larger forces at play) go to Dakhla! Our ceaseless enthusiasm never fails to pay off in one way or another..

Another good piece of news is that we might have found a project which will help us keep in touch with and make a sustainable contribution to the community in Amgala after we leave. After a few failed attempts at gathering excitement over a garden project we have found support for resurrecting old sewing traditions. Traditionally, Saharawi women have made everything pertaining to the home with their own hands. For example, before, every dignified woman knew how to piece together a tent, a skill which was passed on through generations. However, many such important crafts are on the verge of being forgotten as the most senior generation is slowly slipping away. The disappearance of these skills is both due to the scarcity of proper handiwork equipment and the provision of carpets and cooking tools by humanitarian organizations - products which used to be made out of leather and other natural materials by Saharawi women. Other Dairas (districts) have succeeded in establishing centers where elderly women teach the younger generations their arts so as to preserve an essential part of Saharawi culture. These centers also offer an opportunity for women to work outside the home. A local female volunteer organization (مجموعة التواصل), which several of our family members are part of, would be responsible for running the project in Amgala, with help of Norwegian funds. We really hope this can become something.

Less unexpected but also quite exciting is the proximate arrival of December, the Christmas month and also the month of many happy events: Norwegian visitors both in the beginning and mid-month, the national Polisario conference which only happens every 5 years, and the reunion with friends and family in our white northern country at the end of the month. It seems like time is speeding, and there is so much to do still. Finally we have become busy, an almost forgotten feeling here in the camps where the only thing of abundance is time. It is a feeling we have missed. However, preparing for departure also means preparing to say goodbye to people who have become family and dear friends. So lets not think too much about that yet. Almost a third of our stay is still left. We will embrace this time.

Marta with her new malhefa and henna for Eid

My mother barbequing goatmeat where the tea is normaly heated

Monday, October 31, 2011 (by Hanne)

Still no official news about the state of the three kidnapped foreigners. Al-Qaeda has made a statement claiming responsibility for the act but that means little without any proof. We feel very safe in our Saharawi families (they still follow us everywhere we go), but can’t stop thinking about the miserable three, especially the man who was shot in his leg. Polisario is more quiet than before on the matter, but our sources tell us that they are still working to get the humanitarian aid workers in safety. Although official statements at the moment are few and vague, the rumors are plenty, and say the kidnappers’ car was surrounded near to the Mali border, but somehow managed to enter into Mali without the Saharawi forces being able to follow. Our own scanning of world news, albeit limited, suggests that the case has received little coverage, even in Spain and Italy, reminding us of how big issues often receive little media attention. This fact seems to be becoming something of a theme.

However, we know from experience that Saharawis are a determined people to whom no challenge is undefeatable. In our daily life here, this is particularly well demonstrated by our students. Lately there has been much discussion around whether we will move to Buccra, a different daira (district), after Eid. We have experienced some difficulties with the school we are currently teaching in, in Amgala. The small and scarce windows are our only source of light, which will be a problem when we have to close them once winter arrives. The total number of students is a concern as well, along with other minor issues. Yet, our students are intent on our staying. Several of our students are members of a volunteer organization they call Brigada los Libros. It was the brigade that found desks and chairs for the school (initially we sat on the floor). Now they are searching for car batteries for all three classrooms, after which they will install lamps. Car batteries are heavy, they require two people to be lifted short distances, and a car or donkey to be transported further. Our batteries must be carried to someone’s home after class every day to be charged. But the brigade is ready to find transportation and offer their private solar panels to our disposal. If the most important issues are solved by the end of the week, we will stay. Hanshouf.. (We will see..)

Regardless of our moving or staying we will spend Eid with our current families. Eid is arguably the most important holiday in the camps. Everyone buys new clothes and shoes, women go to the hamam (a Saharawi type of Turkish bath) and draw henna on their hands and feet. Many families buy new furniture. When the holiday starts, every family slaughters a goat for the feast. During the day, the Saharawis visit family and friends, especially elderly people. For newlywed women, this is a good opportunity to make the first formal visit to the husband’s parents, which involves bringing a hoard of gifts ranging from tables and tea sets to food or a goat. Our students have been counting the days for weeks and become more excited by the day. As we realize the importance of this holiday, so do we..

the fysical challenges continues

We are to be so lucky as to experience Eid. And this being the “bigger” Eid we are really looking forward to the celebration (and feeling a bit homesick while thinking of Christmas at home). Out first experience with Eid is being woken up at 5 o’clock in the morning to eat. Since be are here for the hole package, we all agreed to fast the day before Eid, as many people do here, of religious reasons. We on the other hand have cultural reasons, and for my sake I want to see how it feels. The families were of course surprised, happy and worried like they most of the time are when we make decisions.

The fasting includes no food or drink from sunset (05.30) till sundown (19.00). The lack of water is the most problematic for us, since we can just lay around all day writing or reading. The rest of the family have to clean the hole house, and with strong wind and dust everywhere - this is a big challenge. Since the medical aid is rear and limited, they are careful about their health. So if you have any sickness, feel nauseous or any kind of uncomfort, you will not fast. The most common is headache from lack of tea. Finally the Norwegian folk can feel like good Samaritans and bring forth the Norwegian painkillers “Paracet”.

At 18.30 all the family is called together into the tent, to be ready, sitting by the table looking at what is served. At exactly 19.00 the father utters Bismilleh. And so the family gathers together for a big meal together, with tea and all the food you can eat.

... so here we go!

Finally, family life has developed further and away from only stomach issues. we try to adjust to everyday life with all of it`s awkward moments and misunderstandings. And not to forget, the everyday life is adjust to us.

Even though kids continues to scream Ola and Da Me Caramelos at us, we try our best to be a more natural part of the family. Hanne is doing this perfectly, having a more healthy appetite, switching from classical arabic to the local dialect Hassania, and screaming Kustr Oemrok (may God shorten your life) after the kids, when they are up to no good (so most of the time). Her family keeps on pulling pranks on her, and it seems to rub off on her. Today she brought a dead lizard to class.

Martas Haima (home) seems a bit more calm, with a thoughtfull mother and fater, and a wandering baby boy with no pants on. While enjoying tranquility, she always have her english class in mind and how they would better benifit the short time we are here. Always beating herself up about not going through the alphabet yet another time. All of these very sensible and conserned thoughts however seem to quickly disapear when spanish music comes out of a small speaker and she starts to move.

Then there is Anne Kristine, struggeling to understand both arabic and spanish. When lacking Martas enthusiastic ability to use body language, she is in so many words, getting by, stuttering trough one arabic word at the time. While feeling that she has more superfluous time than normally, she is iniciating more productive ways to use the time than to read a book (even though she has been seen reading on more than one occation). A great End of the Year show, for the english students is taking shape, and a small garden in the neighbour is expected finished in the begining of December. She is also a volunteer at the school for handicaps in Layonne. When all of this is finished, there is magically even more time! So yoga classes for family and friends are arranged, texts are written and new people are met. And in her spare time, she enjoys Dostoevskys Crime and Punishment and the company of her family.

The girls are always out looking for new adventures, meeting organisations in the camp , that is doing volunteer work. We met the Brigados de Livres, a group of young people helping by amongst other things, cleaning schools, coaching footballteams and bringing water and electricity to old, weak or poor people. We also met the organisers of Mdgei Misik, a demonstration done in the wasteland in the occupied territory, consisting of about 22 000 people in tents. We also heard about his exciting escape through 15 days in the desert and his clever way of getting over the Wall of Shame, and into the refugee camp.

On other occations adventure finds the girls. 23rd of Octobre we are told nto to move without a familymember. At 11.30 we are told by our coordinator about the kidnapping of foreign aid workers in Rabuni. How terrorists have come into the Protocolo and kidnapped two girls, spanish and italian, and shot and taken a spanish man. A change in the air happens, and a new tension is felt while listening to the radio at home. We are continuously updated, and reassured of our safety. We are also given a small group of security guards consisting of fearless familymembers.

Internet access is not an everyday pleasure, and needs full consentration when actually achieved.

















"I... You... I.... You... I... You"
Entertaining private English lessons in the house.

Afternoon family gathering with english lessons, tea, dancing and relaxing













Hanna teaching english to some of her brothers
















After a yoga lesson by Anne Kristine the night before, Alin, Hanna`s younger nephew, is very eagar to learn more!










Sunset close to where the goats are kept



















On our way to feed the goats

Det tar fortsatt litt tid aa ta paa seg melhefaen.

New families

On Tuesday all three of us got our own Saharawi family. Hanne is still in the familiy where all of us lived the first couple of weeks, while Anne Kristine and I (Marta) have moved into new families. In theory we now have one Saharawi family each, but in practice we rather feel that all of us got two new ones. The first family we lived in will, even for the two of us who have moved, still be very special. Even though only Hanne now lives there, Anne Kristine and I will without doubt come visit for a round of the sand game Sig, a friendly conversation or a cup of tea quite often. Upon arrival to the new families, it didn’t last long before they underlined that mi casa es su casa, no matter if your name is Hanne, Anne or Marta. (They are very hospitable, but do from time to time also mix up our names..)

I have moved to a young family consisting of a married couple and their one and a half year old son. The core family is small, but there are almost always some aunts, uncles, cousins or siblings around. In real Saharawi style the big family is never far away, and the tents of your relatives are usually very visable from your own tent. (Oh, sorry, from your mothers tent; by talking about your own tent you indirectly say that you are a married woman!)

After soon three weeks in the Sahara desert, we are slowly getting used to the Saharawi life in the refugee camps. Even our taste buds are starting to adapt. For every cup of tea we imagine that the amount of sugar is a bit less than in the last cup. When one of us accidentally poured coffee in the sugar cup, we did just barely notice that the coffee was a bit sweeter than usually. The heat doesn’t feel so harsh anymore and our daily routines go by without to many problems; from Saturday till Wednesday we work as English teachers in the morning, and take Arabic/Hassania lessons in the afternoon. After dark (around 7 pm) we often have different meetings or visits to Saharawis with important stories to tell. Our life in the camps is quite busy with work, school and meetings. To cope with the unbearable heat, a big motivation for us is the knowledge of us sliding down snowy hills with friends and family in the end of December. In our own country.

This is of course not representative for many Saharawis in the camps. There is not enough work for the people in the camps, and many spend days without to much content. The reality of a life in a refugee camp is not good. The conditions are harsh and the Algerian desert is not the home of the saharawi people.

It is a life that no one should have to get used to.

first week in the camps!

Nine days in, and getting used to the Saharawi life. Time flies and it feels like we’ve been here forever. Yet so much is still to be learnt. A new lifestyle, new traditions, new habits and new languages: Hassaneyya, Arabic and Spanish. The heat is overwhelming at times. The nights are tranquilizing. We sleep under the most magnificent starry sky we have ever seen. Everything about the climate is exotic and something our bodies clearly were not made for.

For about another week the three of us will stay together in the family we currently live with. We finally figured out their whole family tree yesterday: the grandparents just passed away, the parent generation consist of five siblings (one of whom is our “mother”) and we have seven sisters and brothers of ages 14 to 32 years. Our cousins live next door (meaning they sleep there, but are otherwise in our faces, on our laps, in our arms and sometimes almost on our plates!) and their ages range from 4 to 16 years. Family life takes a lot of energy, but we have never been so warmly welcomed. Our brothers walk to meet us after Arabic class when it gets dark. The little ones want us to lift them up and toss them around constantly. Everyone wants our attention. And everyone wants to help in any way they can. We couldn’t be more grateful.

We started teaching last Saturday - that’s the first day of the week here. After three tests (written, oral and listening) we were able to place our students into three classes. Marta teaches the beginners, Hanne the middle level and Anne Kristine the advanced class. Teaching is challenging, especially when students come and go (e.g. today someone had to leave because she was going to go to Mauritania with her family for 10 days), but we’re expecting more stability soon, insh allah..

Our Arabic and Hassaneyya lessons started on Saturday as well, and we feel like we’re making slow but steady progress.

More soon (i.e. next time we find internet)!

Sending big hugs to you all by the warm wind from the Sahara desert from marta, anne kristine and hanne

First lap: check! :D

Team Fall’11:

Marta, Anne Kristine

and Hanne

Charles de Gaulle, Paris, *15 minutes of free internet*
11.30am: Time for our first blog!


So, what are you really going to do for three months?

Now we are already done with the first lap on our journey to our home for the next three months. While sitting in the airport of Paris we are wondering if friends and family really know what we are actually going to do and experience in Algeria.. Do we really know what will meet us when we exit the Algerian airport of Tindouf, the closest town to the camps?

Well, when we get to Tindouf in some hours, we probably won’t see anything. Tindouf is a military town where all planes arrive during dark in order to keep foreigners from seeing the town. Foreigners are not allowed to enter the town at all. While trying to get used to the heat, the sounds, the noises and the smells, we will be driven one hour into the desert and hopefully find tents of the Saharawi refugee camp Layounne.

So, we’ll be in Algeria, but it won’t really feel like it. The Saharawi camps are in the desert, hours away from cities. Our families will not speak French, but Hassaniya, and most likely Spanish. They are refugees, miles away from the place they call their real home, Western Sahara, a Moroccan “colony”. Is this the last colony of Africa?

Regardless, we are confident that we will learn tons about a new way of life, a new language and make lasting friendships. Not completely sure what we’re going to yet, but we know that each of us will live in a host family, we’ll have Arabic lessons every day and we’ll be teaching three different levels of English to voluntary participants. And there won’t be brown cheese. Or showers. Or sit-down toilets that flush. But believe it or not, that’s part of what we’re excited about.

Algeirs AF 2154 12.35 F44 A l’heure (soon it’ll say something like.. allé al port..?)

Untill next time! And then, from the camps! :D

The different camps

Written by Marius:

The Sahrawi Refugee Caps outside Tindouf are similar, but different. Just like cities in other countries, they have their own special and defining aspects. This blog post is an informative run through of the different camps, in our view.

There are five residential camps, four of which are close to Tindouf (within 50 km): Layounne, Smara, Auserd and 27^th of February. The distant Dakhla is 140 km to the south. In addition, the administrational camp Rabouni near 27^th of February hosts all government institutions. In this post, I will describe the impression I have of the different camps.

Layounne: This is the camp in which we have lived and worked. It is big, both in size and population. It is close to Tindouf (15 km), and the seven Dairas (parts into which the camps are divided) stretch eastward like a string of pearls. In comparison with the other camps, not that many foreigners are found Layounne. They fly right above before landing in Tindouf, but often head to the other camps. Despite the close proximity to Tindouf, there is no electricity for Layounne residents. The nights are dark, the days are calm. In the north, low and flat-top mountains mark the border with Algeria. On top of these mountain is an Algerian military camp, and when they practice with live ammunition a spectacular lightshow is displayed. In the south and east, there is nothing but vast desert. To the east you can catch a glimpse of Tindouf infrastructure, which creates an orange glow on the eastern horizon in the night. Layounne is big, the resources are scarce and the Sahrawis there are extremely welcoming and hospitable towards foreigners. A continuous presence is genuinely appreciated by the people – at least this is our impression from Bucraa.

Smara: This is the biggest camp, and has more of an urban feel (to the extent this concept can be applied) than the other camps. There are a few international institutions here, including an American School and a computer center. Smara has permanent internet, and this little detail makes it miles closer to the outside world. Smara is used to foreign guests, as especially Spanish people visit frequently. Smara is densely populated and spread over a big area, and it would probably be a magnificent sight from the air. Together with Layounne, they host the annual Sahara Marathon. And it has restaurants.

Auserd: This camp is the only one without a paved road connection. It camp is built like a giant circle, with an open field in the middle and the houses widely scattered around. Thus it would probably also be a magnificent sight from the air. It is sandy, windy and the omnipresent mud-based infrastructure is quite worn and torn. Auserd feels like it is in some vast void, far away from everything. Perhaps a remedy to this is the permanent electricity that is coming soon. Also more of the nomad desert feeling is present here, which naturally is important to the Sahrawis. Auserd feels very authentic, and for some reason the local police are supposedly much stricter.

27^th of February: This camp derives its name from a school, which is also the center of the camp. Many of the government and administrational staff lives here, as it is close to Rabouni. The president has his tent and house right in the centre, and they are just the same as everyone else’s tents and houses. The only difference is a house intended for meetings with the Sahrawi population. Internet is present here, but at the speed of an upside-down donkey backwards in sandstorm. 27^th of February has permanent electricity, and thus daily activities become less strenuous. Electric equipment (ovens, washing machines, refrigerators, microwaves, stoves etc) is cheaper and easier than the old fashioned solutions, and so many people gather that the population of 27^th of February are richer than the others. However, if the other camps would get electricity they would be exactly the same after a little time.

Dakhla: Deep south, following the road to an Algerian quarry, you will find Dakhla. It is well regarded for its tranquillity, beauty and resemblance to areas in the occupied Western Sahara. Most of this comes from the fact that they have stunning sand dunes, which are indeed stunning. Security in Dakhla is a bit stricter, due to terrorist activities in (relatively) nearby desert areas (mainly Mali, Mauretania and Niger, who struggle with active Al-Qaida branches and other local bad boys). Trips to the dunes are always with armed escorts. Nevertheless, the stereotypical beauty of the Sahara Desert is found in Dakhla. Some Sahrawis go on holiday here, and the landscape is quite different from the other camps. Less rocks, more sand (in your clothes and backpack) and more green areas. Dakhla hosts the FiSahara Film Festival, which this year was held between the 2^nd and 8^th of May.

All in all, the camps are just like cities with different personalities. It is great to visit them all, especially when you have stayed for a while. After living three months in Bucraa, our hearts and heads will remain with Layounne. When Sahrawis ask where we live, we answer “Bucraa, Layounne”. They give us a funny look, and then ask where we actually live. We repeat our previous answer.

What to wear?

It is well know that most muslim women cover themselves, or at least parts of themselves. This piece of clothing, whether it involves a piece of fabric covering just the head, the head and the body, or also the face, has created some debate in Norway and elsewhere in the Western world. Before coming here, I was curious about how my own feelings towards the melheffa – the four meter long piece of colourful fabric worn by women here – would be.

Firstly; Saharawi women take pride in their melheffas. If you wear a green melheffa, you always wear a matching green jumper underneath. How they manage to always find things that match is a mystery to me, especially after having seen the market here... There is also fashion to consider, here as elsewhere. Light, bright colours are for young women, whilst darker shades of blue, red, and purple are for older women. Also, a melheffa with two or three different colours, alternatively batik patterns in are in fashion right now.

After coming here, I have bought two melheffas. The remaining ten I have been given from various families I have stayed with, or at dinner visits to friend's houses. Most of them are luckily quite nice, but I must admit that I have one or two that I still haven't worn and have no intention of wearing. No names or colours mentioned.

Fashion and taste aside; what is the significance of this piece of clothing? As my students explained to me, a good woman covers her body and head, including her arms (thus almost everyone wears long sleeved t-shirts underneath, regardless of the heat). Why? To protect themselves from the glances of men. As one of my students underlined; women are sexier than men. There seems to be some confusion as to whether the ko'ran demands that women cover themselves, whether it's interpreted this way, or whether it's cultural. I must admit that I don't know myself either. Regardless, here in the camps the melheffa carries both religious and cultural connotations.

Sahrawis are very proud of their melheffas. Time and time again it is mentioned that no one else wears the melheffa like the Saharawis; the Mauritanians wear it in a similar way, but not quite the same! It is, in short, part of their cultural identity. Yes, a mark of islam, but also something which stretches beyond religion as well as across the Moroccan wall of shame, and into the home country. For Saharawis, culture is serious business. It's what distinguishes them from other people; Algerians, Mauritanians, Spaniards – and most importantly Moroccans.

This is a reason why for me, as a self-declared secular feminist (oh, what a stereotype!), it is possible to wear it. It is not only an attempt at integrating better into the society, but it is also an act of solidarity with the people here. In order to understand their situation, I try the best I can to live like them, and in this process, it has also become possible for me to wear the melheffa. That is not to say that I don't find it problematic from a feminist perspective, because I do. Not so much because of the religious demands in themselves, but because of the lack of gender equality in the reasoning and the thinking which seems to be the basis of these demands. Sexiness is relative. Women's beauty is no more “precious” and in need of protection than men's beauty. And so on...

Also, the fact that I wear it is no guarantee for integration in the society here – I still feel like I'm trying to fool people when I put it on. Of course, I don't fool anyone. Even from behind, the children in the streets are shouting at me in Spanish (or throwing rocks if I'm lucky). Even the way I walk is influenced by the cultural conditions I've grown up under! Also, some days are simply non-melheffa days. These are the days when I'm ill, it is too warm, or I simply don't feel like wearing it. Attempts at cultural integration is demanding. Some days I just want to sit in my room and listen to electronic music, read my (now rather old) Norwegian newspapers and send text-messages home. But this is part of the experience. Integration is difficult and demanding, and requires whole hearted attempts followed by small breaks. Nothing strange about this.

Back to the melheffa; most days, however, I don't even think about when I put it on. Some of my melheffas are easy to wear. The fabric is one which stays in place, they are not too long so that I have to hold it up with one hand in order to avoid falling over, and they keep me comfortably warm as the temperature drops at night. I like the colours. I like looking like the other women here; I am not like them, but I can try to understand them and their situation. Most days, the melheffa is just a small part of this attempt.

Regarding the recent events of utmost global importance

Sometimes we have the feeling that the world is coming to an end while we sit here and sip on deadly sweet cups of tea.

TV and news is not something we enjoy every day, and whenever we get a glimpse at BBC or CCN another country has been shattered by an earthquake or nuclear disaster, or is simply about to tear itself apart from within. And if no new country has been put on the verge of ruin, one of the ongoing events seems to have suddenly escalated way out of proportion.

It all started with the revolt in Tunis: TV pictures of crowds surging through the streets and a pressured president that finally let go. After Tunis came Egypt. More crowds, more videos of bloody demonstrators and police cars crashing into crowds. Next time we switched on the TV we saw New Zealand literally in ruins. The next time revolts had started in all Arab countries, Bahrain, Yemen and Libya seemed to be in some serious trouble. After Mubarak had to hand over power to the army, attention shifted and we realized that Libya was in a civil war. Just then another earthquake attempted to wipe Japan off the map, with partial success. This all led to a new Chernobyl. In Libya Gadaffi orders his soldiers to perform genocide when they reach Benghazi, and suddenly all of NATO (including Norway) is waging a war with our neighboring country. To the south, more than a million people are fleeing from stubborn presidential candidates in the Ivory Coast.

Here everything is normal, and people are oblivious to all that does not concern them directly. And only two things affect us here; “Is this our moment to move on Morocco?” And “what about Libya?” A nuclear explosion in Japan could not bother people less.

At first there was a spark of hope that the wave of unrest in the Arab world would spread to Morocco too. This would mean new hope for the Saharawis. However this little spark died quickly.

Secondly there is Libya. Gadaffi has been a friend of the POLISARIO before, and before the war many young Saharawis studied there. POLISARIO evacuated the students just before things turned very bad. Now the question is how they will finish their education?

The general opinion here is very pro-Gadaffi. Primarily because he has been kind to the Sahrawis. However, they also say that the people in Libya have nothing to complain about: They have houses, electricity and food. Everything they need. Furthermore, people condemn the international intervention. When we inform that Norway also sends planes, many people are disappointed. There is an understanding why France and the Mediterranean countries have a justification for acting; this is basically in their neighborhood. This is not exactly the case for Norway. “What is such a respectable and peaceful country doing meddling with other countries business?”

Rollercoaster!

Written by Mariu

You wake up.

Your first thought is: ”The end is near”. The freezing night has strengthened your cold, and removed all physical defence installations. As you head towards the breakfast table for a treat consisting of tea, bread, local super duper medicines and other skulduggery, you realize that all contents within are determined to exit as at fast as possible. Wise from experience, you change the current course and rapidly trudge towards the room of relief. Meanwhile the sun is rising, without a cloud in the sky to cool your day and mind.

After barely conquering the endless road to school, you are met with impatient student and annoyingly healthy colleagues. Overnight the students seem to have forgotten everything, the chalk breaks more than it writes, and between “to be” and “to have” you are constantly interrupted by interrupting interrupters.

The evening Arabic lesson feels like Greek, and as a military cargo plane roars overhead you wish you were an ammunition box flying away. Today you are less productive than a stone. Back home in the tent, you don’t even feel like socially lurking around, it is too exhausting. Eventually stumbling to bed, to the toilet and back to the bed, you wonder why on earth the earth has decided to fall apart today. You fall asleep, and dream about how you drowned in that something you had for dinner.

You wake up.

Your first though is: “Hellyeah!” You have slept like a baby, ignorant of everything but your own sweet dreams. They were something about swimming in chocolate after becoming the president of the world. The breakfast table welcomes you with freshly baked bread, nice coffee and smooth tea. Your stomach handles all this deliciousness with ease. Meanwhile the sun is rising, while the heat is blown away by a cool breeze.

After strolling to school, listening to a hyperactive one-bird bird choir and greeting the local merchant, you are met with enthusiastic students. One colleague is sick, but it could be worse. Yesterday’s test results show that your students have learned more than you have taught them, someone brought coloured chalk, and you feel that this is exactly why teaching is rewarding.

The Arabic letters are dancing in your mouth, Fathathain and Dammathain and Kasrathain jump into place almost by themselves, the UN plane buzzing overhead brings Sahrawi families together (temporarily) and perhaps some of those good WFP cookies as well. Back in the tent with your family, you watch Algeria beat Morocco in football, and the dinner is delicious couscous and camel meat. After learning new Hassaniya phrases, explaining the greatness of Gudbrandsdalsost, and playing with the kids, you are so tired that you are half asleep when you realize that toothbrush action might be advisable after 14 cups of tea.