Speaking in Tongues

Juani gets a tutorial from a client

Let me be very clear up front:  I am one of the most fortunate people on the Morocco 6 team.  I am one of four people on the time whose first language is English, and English is the official language of the project.  I am also one of four people on the team with a working understanding of French, which is the primary language our clients use in the office.   I’ve also been doing strategy consulting as my day job, which means I’m used to sitting down with clients, investigating their objectives, and working with them to come up with strategies.  This means I have twice the opportunity to understand and reflect on what is being said (once in French and once in English) in a addition to background in working on this type of environment, which almost no one else has.

And still, this work is hard.

Consulting is almost never straightforward; it takes a long time to properly understand a client, their mission, their needs, their strengths and their weaknesses.  But for me, the path that leads from discovery to solution is what makes it interesting and worth doing.  Nearly 75% of the way through this CSC assignment, I find myself reflecting on how many things I take for granted when I start new projects at home.  Everyone speaks English.  We’ve all been working in the world of Defense for several years.  Usually, we have a common understanding of the overarching mission of the leadership above us before we even get started.   Things that are confusing can be clarified with little to no trouble.

This project is just 4 weeks long, we had almost no background on the project going in, and our client is ambitious and focused, which is good – but it means they expect a lot.  We’re also juggling 3-4 languages (English, French, Spanish, and Arabic).  None of us have a shared understanding of the operating environment, but everyone has great ideas.  Things that are confusing need time to unravel, because we need to translate from one language to another, and even the same word translated directly holds different meaning for people who come from different corners of the world.  I have tremendous respect for the incredible professionals on this team who have none of the advantages I have but are still providing great value to their clients.  Honestly I don't know how they are all doing it (to those of you reading the blog, hats off to you ;).

Kavya Listening Intently

Our work is also based on improving methods of communication.  Our client, ANAPEC, is a public organization charged with bringing job offerers and job seekers together more effectively – and we’ve been asked to help them understand how they communicate and provide support to thousands of Moroccan job seekers who can’t sit down face to face with an ANAPEC job counselor either because of proximity or their schedule.  Technology makes this possible, but the introduction of new methods can also cause confusion and decrease understanding.  The parallels and ironies of working on a communications project in an environment where communication is difficult are never far from my mind during the workday.

The good news is that this difficulty is making me listen more, think harder, and reflect more before I react.  Because it’s so difficult to clarify a misunderstanding, choosing my words wisely – and choosing when to speak at all – has become much more important.  We’re getting better at it every day.  We’re also making good use of our sense of humor to diffuse tension and our hands to make ourselves understood.  I found myself thinking today as I watched my English speaking teammate communicate pretty effectively with a French-speaking client that the true sign of being in an international work environment is that our arms and our smiles speak more clearly than our tongues.

#ibmcsc morocco6

"Where's Waldo?" and other Vignettes

Tea

Tea at the Riyadh in Chefchaouen

It’s approaching the wee hours of a new morning when you and 11 other people spill out of a cramped minivan into the cold night air.  After 7.5 hours in the car, your knees are a little sore and the chill permeates you almost instantly, but you’re determined that the trip will be worth the travel so you ignore the discomfort for the time being.  Instead, you concentrate on seeing the blue walls of the town through the darkness while you wait for directions to the guesthouse from the square.  When he finally appears to collect the group, the slight Moroccan man who owns the Riyadh the group has booked out for the weekend is a bit too cheerful for your mood, especially as the path to the guesthouse is spotted with trash and a smattering of dirty wild dogs nipping your toes.  It’s clear through the dim lights that the walls have a blueish hue, but nothing that inspires cheerfulness in your mind.   The Riyadh is also painted blue and once inside, you spend 20 minutes with the group navigating the tight winding stairwells and tiny guestrooms to lay out sleeping arrangements and lay your things down on the freezing brick floors.  The moment when you realize that the guesthouse has no central heat and no ceiling over the courtyard where all the guestroom "doors" face is the final straw and a moment of near meltdown; it’s just 4 degrees Celsius, maybe 8 in the room, and no amount of northern upbringing can make sleeping in those elements pleasant.  But just as you return downstairs thinking that this whole idea was a huge mistake, you realize that the mysteriously cheerful Riyadh owner is passing around tiny cups of steaming Moroccan Mint tea and shouting for blankets from the store rooms.  The tea, normally too sweet for your taste, is perfect and perfectly hot in your belly.  Your hands start to thaw with the tiny cup nestled between them.  And you notice something you hadn’t before; there are spots of sunny red and orange and yellow decorating the cold blue walls of the guesthouse, and everyone around you is laughing.  You find yourself starting to laugh too, even though you missed the joke.

“Where’s Waldo?”

Music and Dance crowds outside the Kasalabah

Saturday Morning in Chefchaouen dawned sunny and cold, and most of the team stayed under the covers well after they awoke enjoying the warm pressure of the rough thick blankets.  But eventually the promise of coffee and breakfast was enough to lure everyone into action and the sun was creeping over the walls of the courtyard, surprisingly hot and bright compared to the chilly shadows in the morning.   After a carb-laden breakfast, we set out into the “hidden” blue city of northern Morocco, where we explored alleys and doors packed with spices and carpets and jewelry.  We lingered over shawls and posed for photos.  Eventually we

The least crowded alley

stumbled on a group of young people spanning a wide range of the stages of dress and undress dancing and singing in the middle of the central market square outside the Kasbah.  After some furtive dancing on the edges of the crowd, we took a short break over tea and made our way once more into the alleys.  Suddenly, someone asks, “Where’s Waldo”?  Of course, I'm changing the name to avoid poking my friend too much in the eye on the internet, but actually its a very apt comparison that amidst the crush of people and colors in the close quarters of the Medina at midday. All at once, 10 of IBM's finest go into crisis-management mode as we try to determine where we lost him.  Scouts are dispatched and calls are made, until Waldo comes around the corner smiling and holding a gift they had just purchased for a loved one.  Lesson learned:  you’re never too old or too professional for the buddy system in a Moroccan Medina.

Shades of Blue

One of the things that amazes me about Morocco in general and really struck me this weekend in Chefchaouen is the seemingly clashing coexistence of old and new.  The withered man in his pointed wicker hat and wool robe is a pro at taking selfies with tourists in Casablanca.  The woman in a traditional hood is leading a donkey packed with Fanta down the street while talking on a cell phone in Chefchaouen.  Vendors dressed in skinny jeans and pointy leather shoes will explain in detail the process of traditional Berber carpet making.  Older vendors slinging herbs and spices in the street will shoo photographers away angrily or duck into doorways to avoid a camera, while young girls and boys do whatever they can to photobomb our group photos and peek out at our lenses while we shoot.   It’s also something we’re finding on our assignment.  Our client provides a marketplace for Moroccan job seekers to develop and find jobs in this crazy market, and miraculously do it pretty well by my estimation.  Targeting employment services to a population as diverse and technically polarized as Morocco is one of the finest challenges I can think of for a company like IBM.  How do we deliver remote services to a population where mobile phones outnumber people but there are some job seekers without internet access?  It’s a reality that defines the Moroccan emergence into the 21^st century and - I've seen from other experiences - is also present in so many emerging markets around the world as technology becomes a global economic “flattener”.    As my client told Kavya, Juani and I this afternoon, nothing is static and innovation is not a luxury; it’s a necessity.

“Where’s Waldo?” Part II

Selfie break overlooking the Pont de Dieu

“No one tell Boutaina” (our fabulous coordinator), we all joked as we emerged at top of a craggy mountainside and hauled ourselves onto the path before climbing on spiky rocks near the edge to take selfies.  The “Pont de Dieu”, or “Bridge of God”, was by all accounts to be a relatively straightforward 45 minute hike into the mountains to look at one of the most lovely and enormous natural bridges on the planet.  The bridge was indeed magnificent, enormous and glowing red as the clay gleamed from the light reflecting off the water rushing below.  The way up was not as straightforward as we had hoped, partially because of some navigational errors on our part – rather than a path, we took a more direct and less traveled route.  We were sweaty and exhausted but exhilarated when we finally made it to the top, saw the bridge across the valley, and paused for selfies on the rocks.  But our selfies were missing one hiker.  “Where’s Waldo?” I asked after counting heads returning to the path to finish the hike.   This time, Waldo may have had the right of it. They had decided to skip selfies in favor of relaxing with a mint tea and the company of a charming old man in a wooden hut at the entrance to the Pont de Dieu itself.  Waldo was sitting not 50 yards ahead on the path with the tea when we found him, and probably watching the selfies unfold in real time from across the gorge.  We celebrated with a bollywood-inspired dance and descended, via the actual path this time, to our waiting car and the trip home.

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Chefchaouen at night

Once Upon a time

Local Entertainers in Place Mohammad V

It’s often been said, though I’m not sure by whom, that time is a funny thing.   Wise men and women have in turns described time as an illusion, as the only inevitable, as a human’s most valuable asset, and as a human’s most assured downfall.  Time defines our daily lives, affects our perceptions, changes our priorities, and compels us to act.  It’s something that we cannot afford to forget for very long, but it’s also incredibly hard to define.

Especially in my own head right now.

I landed in Morocco 5 days ago.  In the short time since, I’ve gotten lost (twice) in the Casablanca Medina, broke the proverbial “ice” with dozens of people I’ve never met from all over the world, eaten more food (and types of meat) than I care to admit, attended meetings with IBM and client executives, generated an entire project plan and analytical framework, translated a 20 page French document,  and taken 150 pictures.  I’ve started bonding with 10 awesome IBMers from all over the world whose faces I’d never seen and said hello to an old colleague. 

Sarah (Canada), Sami (Brazil), and Jane (Ireland/Bulgaria)

Until I arrived in Morocco time felt like it was crawling to February 27.  In some ways, time still feels slow.  We’ve had several 2-3 hour meals where conversation runs easily and things seem to move leisurely, and I keep forgetting to check my watch to monitor the time so I’m constantly in this state of the present to the extent that I’m not really aware of where I am in the day.  The team is still really just getting to know each other and we’ve barely scratched the surface on who anyone really is when they aren’t here in Casablanca.

My lunch after I landed in Casa - and Jane in the background!

Most of the time, though, it seems to me like Father Time has hit the gas pedal in a serious way since my plane touched down.  I feel like I’ve been here for ages already because we’ve been able to fit so much into 5 days.  Neighborhood tours, orientations, kickoff meetings, weekend travel planning, long hours of work, wandering searches for Tagines. In a lot of ways, the team already feels like a group of old friends; we laugh easily and have developed the kind of rapport you can only build in 5 days if you’re effectively living under the same roof.   

The nature of Morocco itself seems to support this duality.  Incredibly modern amenities, buildings, and cars exist alongside buildings that have stood for decades on foundations that stretch back centuries.  There are some corridors that look like they are straight out of a Hollywood set from a glamorous romance of the 1940s and some that are plastered with colorful ultramodern posters.  Dusty, haphazard and chaotic markets yield some of the largest and tastiest produce I've seen.  People either stare openly or offer warm welcomes and helpful information. 

This phenomenon is also aided by the incredible amount of interesting work that we’ve already done and which remains to be done with our Moroccan client.  ANAPEC is a public organization established by the Moroccan government to provide employment services to the national public.  Just under 15 years old, ANAPEC is an incredibly motivated organization that is organized, data-oriented, goal driven.  It provides vital services linking job seekers, employers, and policy makers in this country.  The project is interesting, timely, and extremely ambitious.  We know we are complete newcomers but can’t shake the sense that we’re already behind.  But the schedules are coming together and we’re paving a path to the finish line, 3 work days and nearly 25% of the way into our little adventure.  It’s extremely real but still feels a little bit like fiction.

Hassan II Mosque from across the tide pool

Once upon a time, I was a woman who had never been to Morocco.  It’s hard to believe that time was less than one week ago.

#ibmcsc morocco6