A TrainRide to Oran

Thursday, 8h55 - It is not yet nine in the morning, but already I have left the white jumble of Alger la Blanche perched on the edge of the Mediterranean. Brock and I are now on a train pushing its way to Oran la Radieuse by way of the major towns in North-Western Algeria. When we left Les Glycines this morning, the sun was only just up, with bits of lavender sky peeking from between the tall buildings along l'Avenue Didouche Mourad. The sky was marvelously clear and the air almost crisp.

For 1320 dinars, we were able to buy first class train tickets from la gare Agha to Oran. And this morning, when we boarded the train, I was pleasantly surprised to find the first class car to be quite nice. The seats were large and comfortable, and the air conditioning fended off the humidity. Promptly at eight o'clock, the train took off from the station and I began my first adventure outside of Algiers.

We have only been on the train for an hour, so I cannot profess too terribly much knowledge of Greater Algeria, but certainly the scenes I have seen from my little window have been impressive. After leaving Algiers, the landscape quickly turned rural. We passed orchards of trees ladened with the large orange orb so commonly found in the markets of Algiers. Alongside the tracks, narrow footpaths cut sporadically through the bright verdure. Here and there, an old man or a group of children or a schoolgirl or young men pushing bicycles would appear for an instant along one of the footpaths or country lanes. And then a bidonville might appear, a mass of small plaster and wood shacks, corrogated metal, tarps, and laundry. But soon the foreground would clear and off in the distance would be a lone farmhouse or a small village, crowned by a minaret.

As I absorbed this varied landscape, I began to wonder about the people who lived in these non-urban areas of Algeria. What was the vie quotidienne for them, particularly for the women? While the men I could see from the train far outnumbered the women, the women I did see were quite interesting to see. Aside from one woman I saw briefly, they all wore hijab of some sort. Among the older women, I saw quite a few also wearing the traditional whit lace veil that covers everything below the eyes. I have also seen these veils in Algiers, but not nearly in such numbers.

Our first stop was in the town of Blida. I was already familiar with the name because in our Dialect class, a character from our first dialogue was from Blida (eeh! me-le-Blida!) After Blida, the distant hills became an immediate reality. We wound our way through the hills, sometimes going through the heart of a peak in a tunnel. At one point, a lone shepherd stood on a height above us next to his shack, surveying the train in an otherworldly way.

After the mountains, we descended back down into another gently hilly agricultural area. The burnt red earth was neatly covered with tidy rows of crops and olive trees. Fieldhands armed with hoes tended to the moist earth. Every once in a while, I even see fruit trees bedecked with the most luscious pale pink blossoms. But mainly it is the fallow fields, olive trees, lettuce and other vegetables, and pasturelands.

The birds are in abundance too. At Algiers, I hear them in the morning and marvel at the enormous size of the pigeons and the slightly different cry of the gull. But now I see flocks of tiny birds, egrets in the rivers, and even a couple of storks in their nest atop a minaret.

I am going to break for a little breakfast now, but shall hopefully continue this log once the scenery changes. - 9h57

12h05 - The color of the soil has changed. Instead of heavy clods of deep red, it now alterates between light greyish brown and orangish tan. Two hours have passed and we have gone through Chlef and Relizane. The landscape is harsher, but this is perhaps a reflection of the menacing skies above. The land is flat, rimmed in the distance by sparsely-vegetated hills. Olive trees dominate, sometimes interplanted with artichokes. Roaming shepherds and their flocks scramble alongside the tracks and even herds of black and white cattle scavenge along the rocky hills. Bright yellow wild flowers poke up among the rocks in the fields.

The people are poor. We go through towns with mired dirt roads and houses without roofs. And yet still the people look happy. Young girls sporting hijab trot along the sides of streets. In empty lots, groups of young boys play soccer with old bottles for goalposts. At the edge of one bidonville, a young father lifted his son up to see the train, smiling happily. And along a narrow country road, paralleling the tracks, a young man sat sideways in his donkey cart to watch us pass.

Now we are less than half an hour from Oran, inchallah, and the still heavy sky is reflected in the bright green of the fields below. It has been quite a journey. - 12h27

Note: The pictures accompanying this post are actually from the return trip, because I took better pictures on the return. The ones from the trip to Oran were through the window, whereas on the return trip, Ahcène and I actually opened the door so that I could hang out and take unimpeded pictures ;-)

Rock the Casbah

My first introduction to the beauty of Algeria was the summer before I went to high school. I was taking a French summer school class at the local community college and often afterward, I would go to the library to wait until Mom or Dad could pick me up. I quickly discovered the wonders of the film collection and the televisions where one could watch a film of choice. Here I discovered the film The Battle for Algiers and was quite moved by this brutally beautiful and honest film about the Algerian War for Independence. Much of this film takes place in the narrow alleys of the Casbah, an old quartier of Algiers that was a fortified citidel previously. It is now divided in two by a wide road that runs between the two sections.

So on Saturday, I went with the portier of the CED, Mohamed, to walk around the Casbah. Up until that day, I had not really been beyond the Grande Poste, a monumental building in the Centre Ville which, in my mind, seemed to indicate the end of the Centre Ville. However, to my delight, this is far from the case and beyond the Grande Poste is some lovely arcades, pedestrian areas,

and the Casbah. Built on a hill like much of Algiers, no cars are allowed in the Casbah (and understandably so, as the winding roads are not wide enough!) and the air is freshingly free of car fumes. Here the storefronts are even more narrow than elsewhere, hardly wider than their doors, and inside, one can see all sorts of traditional crafts. The buildings are sadly in various states of disrepair, but still quite stunning in their shabby, uneffected simplicity and elegance. The people walking around were primarily locals, but they were quite charmed by my enthusiastic picture snapping, some stopping to encourage me in my filming. Pride of country runs deep in Algerians and the Casbah truly represents a beautiful and historically-important part of Algiers.

For lunch, I finally got to eat Merguez, delicious spicy lamb sausages that are like nothing one can find in America. Passing through the crowds and crowds of Algerians, we saw only one group of tourists. Despite its rich patrimony, Algeria does not have the touristq that most countries with its level of beauty would attract.

What about those libraries?

One of the key reasons for my trip to Algeria was to discover more about the library system, resources, and services. As a first year student in the MS of Library & Information Science Program as well as a devoted Algeria affecionado, I began seeking out any information I could find about the Algerian library system during the months before I left the US. After much searching, I was able to discover that the Université d'Alger had a Library Science program (although no information beyond that was available on the University website), that a center called CERIST (Centre de Recherche sur l'Information Scientifique et Technique) made some theses available online, and that in the mid-nineties, a professor named Behdja Boumarafi had written a nice survey piece on the libraries of Algeria. With the help of InterLibrary Loan, I was able to track down this article and get a copy, which gave me a good idea of the statistics, mission, and vision of Algerian libraries. Unfortunately, this article was written in the nineties and much has changed in the past fifteen or so years, both in terms of library possibilities and the political/social situation in Algeria.

Coming to Algeria would provide me with the opportunity to see how the previous decade and a half had impacted the library systems and their missions. During my first week here, I jumped on the opportunity to visit the National Library, Frantz Fanon Annex, with Brock, another American researcher staying at the CED, Les Glycines. The Frantz Fanon building is the old National Library, and while still very much in use, its collection is a bit old and picked over, and it is not automated at all. Upon my second visit, I was once again examining the card catalogues (!!), when one of the librarians approached me to help me in finding exactly what I wanted. While mainly my goal was just to learn the bibliographic format they were using, particularly in the Arabic card catalogues, we set about looking for a particular book that I wanted to find. Upon finally locating the card in question, Amara set off for the stacks--which are all closed--and kindly invited me back so that I could see the way the books were organized. Behind a large desk were six floors of journals, newspapers, books, and sheet music. Organized by number according

to a system that the French had put in place, each floor had a specific type of material. From old newspapers from the French Colonial Period to books of Arabic poetry to academic journals about Palestine Studies, the collection covered a vast variety of topics, albeit not coming up to the current day. Interesting to me as well was to observe how the library was used by its patrons. While certainly there were researchers present to use the specific materials held by the library, the majority of the patrons seemed to be students from the nearby university who came to use the "Salles de Lecture" with their long tables where they could find a good environment for quiet group work or individual work in a studious environment. On the second story terrace, students could also study outside enjoying the view of the bay and the mild weather. At the front of the building was a small café as well, where patrons could get a drink or eat their lunches from home. Definitely the Frantz Fanon Annex shows a good example of the Learning Commons model.

To my unbelievable good fortune, at the CED, the one Algerian resident is a young man named Ahcène who is in his fourth year of Library Science. He has been in the middle of exams since I have been here, but has spent quite some time with me discussing his experiences with Library Science. He has given me some very interesting powerpoints and documents on LS that are giving me a good background (and vocabulary! - they are in French and Arabic) for my further researches.

Well, that about caps off what I have done in terms of research into Algerian Libraries. I continue to have one class by distance at Syracuse. This one is a Survey of Telecommunications and Information Policy. It is quite challenging, as the name implies, but has proved to be quite interesting, particularly due to the professor's approach to the material and the interesting class discussions.

Intro to Algiers

I must take advantage of this moment of Internet to post this Blog Entry!

Today marks a week that I have been in Algeria, and yet already I feel quite established here. This morning is a rainy one and my room is periodically filled with the rhythmic patter of rain on the trees below my windows and the road beyond. Up until last night, the heavy gray clouds had not actually let fall any significant rain, but always we had the heavy, humid weather of Mediterranean Winter. Fortunately, the temperatures have been quite mild (in the upper teens, Celsius), so the damp air is quite tolerable!

Where to begin in my whirlwind of experiences thus far in Algeria? After a long and exhausting series of flights, I arrived in Algiers on Wednesday afternoon. We left the clouds mid-Mediterranean and descended on the vast expanse of Algiers, wedged between the sea and the uneven heights of the mountains. Having come from a chilly Frankfurt morning, the sun shining through plane disembarkation “tube” was quite a surprise. After an easy transaction at customs and the luggage carousel, I was met by the brother of the bother-in-law of our Algerian friend, Halima (family ties are quite strong in Algeria!). With great affability and a down-to-earth attitude, he drove me from the airport, through the congested streets of Algiers to my new home at the Centre d'Etudes Diocésain (meaning, approximately, the Diocesan Study and Research Center). Algiers is truly an impressive sight to see. The narrow, often one-way streets are bordered by towering white apartment buildings that twist and turn with the course of the roads. The narrow sidewalks are full of pedestrians, dressed in a rainbow of colors and styles. Probably somewhere between fifty and seventy-five percent of the women are wearing hijab at any given time, but the interpretation of it varies from woman to woman. Quite prominent as well is the police in Algiers, and on most every block, there was at least one policeman in uniform, directing traffic, guarding a building, or just surveying the scene.

However, once inside the walls of the CED, the pace slowed, although the vivacity of Algiers was still quite audible from the road beyond. A former Convent, the CED now provides a large library for researchers and dorms for students, researchers, and professionals, primarily foreign in origin. My room is on the second floor, in the Girls' Corridor, and while small and slightly funky, I have found it to be imminently suitable to my needs. My favorite aspect is the tiny balcony that gives out onto a side garden and the neighboring residences. While this also means plenty of traffic noise, I don't mind in the slightest and love to stand at the rail, watching the people passing in the street and listening to the activity all around. In addition to my bedroom, there are plenty of common rooms where I go when I get tired of solitude and my little desk.

Right off the “Petit Salon”, we have an amazing rooftop terrace that gives a view all the way down to the port and the Mediterranean. On a sunny day, there is no better place to be.

I plan to follow up this entry with further explorations of the city, my research, and life in the small foreign community. Stay posted!