It was indeed a very Merry Christmas and I have every intention of making it a very happy (and productive and memorable) new year.
My Christmas started off with an early wake up call so that I could have ample time to travel to suok, by foot (since there is a whole in the tube of my front bicycle tire and I have yet gained enough energy and confindence to fix it). But before I headed out, I opened my presents and cards to find an amazing “Twas the Night Before Christmas record-a-book” narrated by tow of my favorite people in the world (Leeann and Erin). With the turn of each page, I was reminded of the many Christmas memories I’ve had with family and friends. After, indulging in a bit of Christmas music…I set out to go to suok.
I had a tight schedule if I was going to buy all the last minute items I needed to make cous cous, tagine, chocolate chip cookies, tea, etc. So I left the house at 9:45 to head to souk. It has been a while since I’ve gone to souk, without the help of my Peace Corps issued bicycle. I found myself stopping to take more pictures (something that I have done very little of in the last six months) and having time to greet more people than usual. It was a friendly reminder that the convenience of a bicycle eliminates most of the small talk/conversations that would have occurred if I happened to be walking in the same direction as someone else and we became walking buddies for a bit. Although yesterday I was crunched for time, so I didn’t have time to stop by the river to say hello to the women who were washing their carpets and clothes.
When I arrived a suok, I got right down to business. My list included:
ü Bread (for the tajine dish)
ü A tajine dish (since I have failed to buy one to date, I usually eat tajines at other people’s houses)
ü Sugar (for the Moroccan tea)
ü A serving tray (for the tea glasses and tea kettle)\
ü 2kilos of chicken (from the butcher) Sidenote: I couldn’t find my usually “chicken guy” who butchers the chicken in the morning and then brings it to souk-so its fresh-so I had to use a new guy who failed to take out the insides of the chicken, which left me praying that I didn’t burst the gall bladder as I chopped away at the chicken)
ü A 10 durham cell phone recharge card
ü ½ kilo of oranges (for dessert)
There were a few other items I wanted (white flour, vanilla sugar, brown sugar, etc.) but I either forgot about them or they weren’t available at suok. Half way through my shopping adventures, I met up with a teacher and a friend, who is an anthropologist from the states, at a coffee shop, to say one final goodbye. The anthropologist has been a huge help, in teaching me more about the region and introducing me to families, but she has also opened her home to me when I go into the nearest town. I’m sad to see her go, but I have been so thankful for the times that I have been able to spend with her and her family. The farewell was even sweeter, when I found out that the teacher (who was also the anthropologists field assistant) offered to tutor me in Tashlaheit. After 8 months on the mountain top, I’ve finally found someone local, within an hour walking distance, that can help me with my language. This is a huge relief because I had preveiously been traveling to the nearest suok town (which is 1.5 hours away-with limited transport times, leaving at 6am in the morning and returning at 2pm the same day) to fit in tutoring once a week.
After our farewell tea and finishing a few more errands. I was off to head back home. The next couple of hours seem to have flown by. But in them, I decided that I didn’t have the time (or the stove space) to make both a tajine and cous cous (which takes 3 hours to cook to completion) and make tea. So I decided to make one big tajine and Moroccan tea (to be accompanied by the banana bread and carrot cake that the girls and I baked the night before). After 3.5 hours of cooking, trying to remember how my host mother makes tajine, supervising al the kids that came in and out of my house to color with markers (which I forgot would stain their hands…opps…good thing I had color pencils too), breaking up several sibling slapping sessions, setting up the “Moroccan room”, and then waiting waiting waiting for my guest to come. We finally started serving tea at 3pm. The carrot cake and banana bread was a hit and my first batch of tea was amazing. One of the girls (Samira) had five cups. The next batch was far too sweet (I guess I learned from my host dad who adds several grams of sugar to his batchs of tea). Then came the main dish…and if I do say so myself, it was delicious. There was enough food for everyone (although I could have added more chicken) and everyone enjoyed it. It tasted “Moroccan”, therefore I was pleased. It gave me the confidence to know that I CAN make Moroccan food that people like and I can host meals at my house. The last lunch party that I had for one of my neighbors, we made cous cous. It was delicious, but it was also primarily made by my neighbor and I simply “assisted”. With 2011, I’m ready to invite more people over for tea and meals. I think this will be one more small step in my continous integration into the community.
Afterwards (around 4pm), I invited everyone into the living room to see the Christmas decorations and to read/translate “Twas the Night before Christmas” to the kids. They really got a kick out of hearing the voices of Leeann and Erin read them the story. After that, I delivered the rest of the banana bread and carrot cake to some neighbors and friends. They all seemed happy, except for one neighbor that quickly pointed out that the bottom of the banana bread was burnt….oh well, if I learned anything in 2010-I’ve learned that I can’t please everyone.
Today is Sunday and it feels great knowing that I’ve had a full, productive week (where I’ve accomplished personal, professional, and cultural goals). Today will be full of back work…filling out Peace Corps forms, cleaning the house from yesterday, reading, and possibly a trip to a friends house (if I really feel motivated) for some henna). Knowing that, I am fully enjoying the relaxation of Sunday and the lack of a schedule. Some weeks, I feel like everyday is a Sunday…therefore, when Sunday does roll around, I can’t truly relax, knowing that I didn’t accomplish everything I wanted to that week. Nonetheless, tomorrow begins a new week (and I’ll begin it with a trip into Ouarzazate to get my cat neutered). I’ll also be meeting one of the new PCVs (Peace Corps volunteers) in the region. There are a lot of errands to run, but I welcome the change of pace (at least for 24 hours), although I’m not looking forward to the 5am wake up call to catch the tranzit (hopefully I can find a tranzit that will come at 7am-best case scenario). We’ll see…
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
December 24, 2010
December 24, 2010
Today was one of those Peace Corps days that could not seem to be get any better. The only way that it would have gotten better is if I would have gotten out of my bed earlier to accomplish more things (but then I would have lost that extra half an hour of sleep that made me feel so rested).
It’s 8:00pm and I’m exhausted! I started the day approximately 12 hours ago by beginning a new book entitled “Moroccan Households In the World Economy: Labor and Inequality in a Berber Village” by anthropologist, David Crawford. Although I didn’t get far in the book before I jumped out of bed to maximize the morning, before the noon-time prayer (which marks the beginning of the Muslim Holy Day and prayer). Sidenote: Friday afternoon is full of prayer and it is therefore a difficult time to have meetings or get any official work done. Although I didn’t read past the introduction, it was a breath of fresh air to hear the authors description of the country, the everyday life of Amazirgh (aka Berber) lifestyle in rural villages (like mine) and to know that the picture I painted in my mind is fairly accurate. For all I know, the village that he based his ethnography in could have been one of the tiny villages that I’ve passed during my trips to and from Marrakech as I pass the High Atlas Mountains. Reading is a nice way to start the day (especially since I’m usually too tired to concentrate at the end of the evening. So today was nice because I have officially decided that one of my new years resolutions is to Read at least four books every month. I have this in bold because if I email/skype/or see you at some point in 2011, please ask me how this goal is going. I’m going to bold all of my new years resolutions from here on out, in hopes that some of you will help keep me accountable. Another new years resolution is to write at least four blog posts every week. I think we all know why this resolution is not only appropriate, but necessary (reference the history of blog posts over the past eight months and it will become apparent). But I digress,
After a quick read over a nice cup of Early Grey tea (a comfort that I enjoy every morning), I hoped out of bed and got a move on things. After “the usual” (warm up water to wash my face and brush my teeth), take down dry clothes from my clothes line, and straighten up my room. I was out the door and walking to the fields to accomplish goal 1: talk with the mocadim (one of the village leaders) about the future “water treatment project” that I am hoping to do during the winter months. Although I have undoubtedly met the mocadim before, I wanted to officially introduce myself and let him know that I hoped to have a meeting with him soon. It’s always nice to give people a heads up the “tarumeet” (foreigner) is planning on having on asking them for a meeting-otherwise, most of the meeting is filled with stares and questioning of my intentions. He turned out to be a lovely man and invited me in for tea. At about 11:30, I left (knowing that I was the only thing holding him back from getting ready to pray at the mosque). So I left and headed to another village (where another Peace Corps volunteer is stationed. Although the walk is usually no more than an hour (from my house), it took much longer because I decided to text and walk at the same time, which I realized was a bad idea when I look at the cliff (overlooking the fields) that I could have easily fallen off of. So, my walk was interrupted several times to respond to texts and receive a quick phone call from the wonderful vet (who is going to neuter my cat) and from another PCV who is going on the New Years Camel trek with me.
When I finally arrived in the village, I was surprised to find a teacher at the school (since there was a national teachers strike, for one of the unions) and was able to get some input on how some of the teachers and myself can request funding to get supplies for a potential project. We’d like to paint the school with pictures of healthy living (respecting the environment, health messages, and sports scenes). Hopefully this advice will work out and the Ministry of Education will grant us the money. After leaving the school, I was invited into a house for tea and ended up helping crack open and sort almonds (one of my favorite activities). I ended up staying for lunch and then headed back to my house. Before I walked back through the fields, I saw a family that has been wonderful to me and stopped to drop off a few oranges for them. Although they tried to have me stay for lunch, I insisted that I needed to study some Tashlaheit and get ready for my big Christmas lunch (although I didn’t end up studying).
At three, I was home and my dad called right as I got in. I was going to get to talk with both of my brothers at the same time (they were both home for Christmas). Since I wasn’t doing anything, he would call back in five minutes…well, the madness started 3 minutes later. I heard a knock on the door to see Fatima, one of my neighbors, outside. She wanted to help me prepare for the Christmas lunch and so I invited her in. I knew she wouldn’t mind me talking to my family because (in my experience) my Moroccan community members seldom have a problem having full blown phone conversations in the presence of other people. Two minutes after Fatima sat down in my kitchen, another knock came at the door. I assumed it was her cousins, who often come by to hang out at my house, so I went to the door without putting my tajlabeat (long shirt/robe) on…however, it was my landlord and a painter who had come to clean my door. It sounded like an odd request, but (hey) he owns the house. The next minute I get the call and Fatima’s eyes start to roll into the back of her head after minute 2 of the call. In the meantime, my landlord and the painter now need a broom and four more men have joined them at the door. Who would have thought painting a door would be a social event (or that it would take an HOUR). I go back to my phone conversation and then realize I didn’t put the cats in the room, so (in the hopes of them not getting loose while the door is open) I run outside to put them in some rooms. As I walk past the door, I’m told that two girls (maybe, age 6) are waiting for me outside. As I go outside, I see now 10 people outside of the door, including my landlords mom (who is like my host grandmother), her daughter, and several more men/boys. Now that women are outside, I have to do the formal greetings (luckily I have my tajlabeet on by this time…it’s pretty shameful for me to walk around with pants and long sleeve shirt that doesn’t fully cover my bottom…even though the only skin showing is my face, neck, and hands). After a few greetings, I finish the conversation with my dad and brothers (a record 15 minutes of family time) and go outside to apologize for my lack of presence. By then, another one of my neighbors is ready to help me back for my Christmas lunch tomorrow and I have to fully explain Christmas (well, explain it in a very basic way that makes it seem like the equivalent of the large Moroccan holiday, Laid Kebir). By the end of the conversation, the painter has moved to the inside of the door and I am ready to start doing the dishes and then bake.
Although I think it was a great idea to have the neighborhood kids help me bake the carrot cake and banana bread for tomorrow’s celebration, I had no idea how impatient they would be NOR that it would take three times as long to get anything done. It turns out my sink was clogged and wasn’t draining water, my neighbors tend to cut carrots and apples which makes it a 97% guarantee that they will be missing afterwards, and I have never heard a group of kids say “it’s my turn to stir” or “you only get to mash one banana, not two” more than I had within that two hour period. All in all, we were able to finish the carrot cake (minus baking it) before sun down and everyone learned new skills (e.g. shredding carrots, whipping eggs, cooking apples, and other techniques that aren’t apart of traditional cooking in my village). It was a fun experience and I think the girls really like it…but I could hear my language going 4pm. My brain was on overload, so much was going on, and I start to slur my Tashleheit when I go back and forth between English and Tashlaheit within a short period of time. Needless to say, by 6:00, the banana bread batches were done and the carrot cakes were ready to be put in the oven…and I was jamming away to Christmas music in my kitchen. I didn’t think that spending Christmas “alone, in my site” would be all that momentous…but today, I realized how many people I am really able to share this holiday with (including my family back home). I truly am very excite for my first Moroccan Christmas tomorrow (including the two presents under my stockings (yes, I fully decorated my living room with reefs, tinsel, a fireplace scene-complete with three stockings for me and my cats, and Christmas, ornaments, etc.) from Leeann and Erin (two friends that are far beyond my deserving).
As excited as I am tomorrow, I know that it is going to be non-stop craziness (from the moment I get up in the morning to go shopping for last minute ingredients to the time when I close my door to everyone and can relax). Nonetheless, I promise to take tons of pictures and try not to get too stressed out, which will be hard to do because I’m making two Moroccan dishes that I’ve never made solo before (cous cous and tajine)…oh and then there is the constant language battle (man, I wish I would have studied today). All in all, what made today so great is that I got the best of all worlds. I was able to get some work done (and meet some key players in future projects), I made a new friend and enjoyed a favorite activity, I saw a family that I love, I shared a part of my family tradition with my Moroccan family, I got my door painted (it’s tourquoise!), I made the day of four girls by letting them help me make deserts, and I feel perfectly content with my life in Morocco today. Oh and I forgot one…I feel at home in Morocco. That’s something that is becoming more and more common each day, but I don’t ever, ever want to take it for granted. As the year 2011 quickly approaches, I pledge to remember that the life I am living is something that I’ve wanted to experience since I was in 8th grade. I may never get this opportunity again, even if I do (if for some reason I’m crazy enough-and fit enough- to do Peace Corps post-retirement) I want to live every single day of my Peace Corps service like it’s my last day in Peace Corps. I think I will be more content, more productive, and much more appreciative of everyday. With that said…I’m going to enjoy my Moroccan bed and my two wonderful cats (who make for wonderful feat warmers during the winter months (thank goodness for their nature instinct to cuddle).
Today was one of those Peace Corps days that could not seem to be get any better. The only way that it would have gotten better is if I would have gotten out of my bed earlier to accomplish more things (but then I would have lost that extra half an hour of sleep that made me feel so rested).
It’s 8:00pm and I’m exhausted! I started the day approximately 12 hours ago by beginning a new book entitled “Moroccan Households In the World Economy: Labor and Inequality in a Berber Village” by anthropologist, David Crawford. Although I didn’t get far in the book before I jumped out of bed to maximize the morning, before the noon-time prayer (which marks the beginning of the Muslim Holy Day and prayer). Sidenote: Friday afternoon is full of prayer and it is therefore a difficult time to have meetings or get any official work done. Although I didn’t read past the introduction, it was a breath of fresh air to hear the authors description of the country, the everyday life of Amazirgh (aka Berber) lifestyle in rural villages (like mine) and to know that the picture I painted in my mind is fairly accurate. For all I know, the village that he based his ethnography in could have been one of the tiny villages that I’ve passed during my trips to and from Marrakech as I pass the High Atlas Mountains. Reading is a nice way to start the day (especially since I’m usually too tired to concentrate at the end of the evening. So today was nice because I have officially decided that one of my new years resolutions is to Read at least four books every month. I have this in bold because if I email/skype/or see you at some point in 2011, please ask me how this goal is going. I’m going to bold all of my new years resolutions from here on out, in hopes that some of you will help keep me accountable. Another new years resolution is to write at least four blog posts every week. I think we all know why this resolution is not only appropriate, but necessary (reference the history of blog posts over the past eight months and it will become apparent). But I digress,
After a quick read over a nice cup of Early Grey tea (a comfort that I enjoy every morning), I hoped out of bed and got a move on things. After “the usual” (warm up water to wash my face and brush my teeth), take down dry clothes from my clothes line, and straighten up my room. I was out the door and walking to the fields to accomplish goal 1: talk with the mocadim (one of the village leaders) about the future “water treatment project” that I am hoping to do during the winter months. Although I have undoubtedly met the mocadim before, I wanted to officially introduce myself and let him know that I hoped to have a meeting with him soon. It’s always nice to give people a heads up the “tarumeet” (foreigner) is planning on having on asking them for a meeting-otherwise, most of the meeting is filled with stares and questioning of my intentions. He turned out to be a lovely man and invited me in for tea. At about 11:30, I left (knowing that I was the only thing holding him back from getting ready to pray at the mosque). So I left and headed to another village (where another Peace Corps volunteer is stationed. Although the walk is usually no more than an hour (from my house), it took much longer because I decided to text and walk at the same time, which I realized was a bad idea when I look at the cliff (overlooking the fields) that I could have easily fallen off of. So, my walk was interrupted several times to respond to texts and receive a quick phone call from the wonderful vet (who is going to neuter my cat) and from another PCV who is going on the New Years Camel trek with me.
When I finally arrived in the village, I was surprised to find a teacher at the school (since there was a national teachers strike, for one of the unions) and was able to get some input on how some of the teachers and myself can request funding to get supplies for a potential project. We’d like to paint the school with pictures of healthy living (respecting the environment, health messages, and sports scenes). Hopefully this advice will work out and the Ministry of Education will grant us the money. After leaving the school, I was invited into a house for tea and ended up helping crack open and sort almonds (one of my favorite activities). I ended up staying for lunch and then headed back to my house. Before I walked back through the fields, I saw a family that has been wonderful to me and stopped to drop off a few oranges for them. Although they tried to have me stay for lunch, I insisted that I needed to study some Tashlaheit and get ready for my big Christmas lunch (although I didn’t end up studying).
At three, I was home and my dad called right as I got in. I was going to get to talk with both of my brothers at the same time (they were both home for Christmas). Since I wasn’t doing anything, he would call back in five minutes…well, the madness started 3 minutes later. I heard a knock on the door to see Fatima, one of my neighbors, outside. She wanted to help me prepare for the Christmas lunch and so I invited her in. I knew she wouldn’t mind me talking to my family because (in my experience) my Moroccan community members seldom have a problem having full blown phone conversations in the presence of other people. Two minutes after Fatima sat down in my kitchen, another knock came at the door. I assumed it was her cousins, who often come by to hang out at my house, so I went to the door without putting my tajlabeat (long shirt/robe) on…however, it was my landlord and a painter who had come to clean my door. It sounded like an odd request, but (hey) he owns the house. The next minute I get the call and Fatima’s eyes start to roll into the back of her head after minute 2 of the call. In the meantime, my landlord and the painter now need a broom and four more men have joined them at the door. Who would have thought painting a door would be a social event (or that it would take an HOUR). I go back to my phone conversation and then realize I didn’t put the cats in the room, so (in the hopes of them not getting loose while the door is open) I run outside to put them in some rooms. As I walk past the door, I’m told that two girls (maybe, age 6) are waiting for me outside. As I go outside, I see now 10 people outside of the door, including my landlords mom (who is like my host grandmother), her daughter, and several more men/boys. Now that women are outside, I have to do the formal greetings (luckily I have my tajlabeet on by this time…it’s pretty shameful for me to walk around with pants and long sleeve shirt that doesn’t fully cover my bottom…even though the only skin showing is my face, neck, and hands). After a few greetings, I finish the conversation with my dad and brothers (a record 15 minutes of family time) and go outside to apologize for my lack of presence. By then, another one of my neighbors is ready to help me back for my Christmas lunch tomorrow and I have to fully explain Christmas (well, explain it in a very basic way that makes it seem like the equivalent of the large Moroccan holiday, Laid Kebir). By the end of the conversation, the painter has moved to the inside of the door and I am ready to start doing the dishes and then bake.
Although I think it was a great idea to have the neighborhood kids help me bake the carrot cake and banana bread for tomorrow’s celebration, I had no idea how impatient they would be NOR that it would take three times as long to get anything done. It turns out my sink was clogged and wasn’t draining water, my neighbors tend to cut carrots and apples which makes it a 97% guarantee that they will be missing afterwards, and I have never heard a group of kids say “it’s my turn to stir” or “you only get to mash one banana, not two” more than I had within that two hour period. All in all, we were able to finish the carrot cake (minus baking it) before sun down and everyone learned new skills (e.g. shredding carrots, whipping eggs, cooking apples, and other techniques that aren’t apart of traditional cooking in my village). It was a fun experience and I think the girls really like it…but I could hear my language going 4pm. My brain was on overload, so much was going on, and I start to slur my Tashleheit when I go back and forth between English and Tashlaheit within a short period of time. Needless to say, by 6:00, the banana bread batches were done and the carrot cakes were ready to be put in the oven…and I was jamming away to Christmas music in my kitchen. I didn’t think that spending Christmas “alone, in my site” would be all that momentous…but today, I realized how many people I am really able to share this holiday with (including my family back home). I truly am very excite for my first Moroccan Christmas tomorrow (including the two presents under my stockings (yes, I fully decorated my living room with reefs, tinsel, a fireplace scene-complete with three stockings for me and my cats, and Christmas, ornaments, etc.) from Leeann and Erin (two friends that are far beyond my deserving).
As excited as I am tomorrow, I know that it is going to be non-stop craziness (from the moment I get up in the morning to go shopping for last minute ingredients to the time when I close my door to everyone and can relax). Nonetheless, I promise to take tons of pictures and try not to get too stressed out, which will be hard to do because I’m making two Moroccan dishes that I’ve never made solo before (cous cous and tajine)…oh and then there is the constant language battle (man, I wish I would have studied today). All in all, what made today so great is that I got the best of all worlds. I was able to get some work done (and meet some key players in future projects), I made a new friend and enjoyed a favorite activity, I saw a family that I love, I shared a part of my family tradition with my Moroccan family, I got my door painted (it’s tourquoise!), I made the day of four girls by letting them help me make deserts, and I feel perfectly content with my life in Morocco today. Oh and I forgot one…I feel at home in Morocco. That’s something that is becoming more and more common each day, but I don’t ever, ever want to take it for granted. As the year 2011 quickly approaches, I pledge to remember that the life I am living is something that I’ve wanted to experience since I was in 8th grade. I may never get this opportunity again, even if I do (if for some reason I’m crazy enough-and fit enough- to do Peace Corps post-retirement) I want to live every single day of my Peace Corps service like it’s my last day in Peace Corps. I think I will be more content, more productive, and much more appreciative of everyday. With that said…I’m going to enjoy my Moroccan bed and my two wonderful cats (who make for wonderful feat warmers during the winter months (thank goodness for their nature instinct to cuddle).
A Refelection on 2010: 9 months in Morocco
It has been a journey (to say the least) to travel across the Atlantic, adapt to a new culture and language, and seek to learn more about me (in the midst of learning about a whole new World)
Sunday, September 5, 2010
A long overdue update
It has been too long since I have posted a proper post and I am extremely sorry for that...however it has been a lesson learned regarding my access (or lack of access to internet). Athough I originally expected to have internet access every week, it has not turned out that way. To make a very long story short, I have gone almost two months without a proper update and I will try to make up for that now.
Just a few days ago (September 3) marked my 6 month mark in country. I have been in Morocco for 6 months and have been a Peace Corps Volunteer (officially for 4 months). With that said, I have endured many challenges.I have spotted and killed more scorpions then I would have ever liked to. I have been told endless times "You know nothing" (the universal Moroccan phrase which means...your Tamazirght is terrible!) I have misinterpreted sentences countless amounts of times (which sometimes puts me on the wrong side of town or talking to the wrong person (who usually turns out to be the right person for something else). ...And I have spent many nights in my house wondering why I chose to live in a big house, in middle of Morocco-where close to no one speaks English- when I could be at home enjoying the comfort of my home and family/friends in the States...
But then a small boy will come and knock on my door and ask me to come play with him. Or I will run into one of my neighbors by the river and we'll wash our clothes, side by side, for hours at a time (because...believe me...it takes hours). Or someone will ask me about myself or about my family....and those are the moments that make everything. There have been alot of challenges over the past six months...everything from bed bugs, scorpions, sickness, language barrier, frustrations of having to create my own workplan AND find people who can help me create/implement it in a culturally sensitive way....but at the end of the day, the positives ALWAYS outweigh the positives. I find myself getting sad (teary sometimes), not because I'm homesick, because I will never be able to fully share this wonderful experience with the people that I love so much.
So, what have I been doing over the past two months? Well, that's a loaded question. July was quite the month for me. It began with an unexpected trip to Rabat (the capitol) due to some medical concerns. July 1st marked my first night in my new home. I was extremely excited to finally be settled in (I had a fridge, a new stove,my bed, drawers, dressers-everything...well...everything rural Morocco style). It felt wonderful to have my own space where I could walk around in capris and tshirts and not have to worry if someone saw me bearing my knees or my elbows. I finally had a safe space. My house still needed a fair amount of decorating...but that would come in the future. However, after a lovely evening in the fields with some of the women, I noticed a rash on my hands and feet. I didn't think much of it....until it began to spread. I will say that being in Peace Corps had made me listen to my body more than I ever have had to do before in my life. We have constant access to medical staff (via phone) and a wonderful health center in Rabat. So after day three of the rash (at this point, my whole body is this rash) I start to wonder if it was really just an allergic reaction to the plant in the field (as I mentioned before). After keeping in contact with the Peace Corps medical staff over teh next few days and some failed attemps at medicine....it was time for me to make my first big trek through Morocco. I was to travel from my mountain top site (in Southern Morocco) to the northern (-ish) Coast of Morocco. So, I woke up at 3:30am to begin a very FULL day of travelling. After an early morning tranzit ride down the mountain, a quick sprint to catch a suok bus (a run down, but still operating, coach bus service) to Marrakech, another frantic taxi ride to catch the 1 o'clock train, and a VERY HOT train ride to Rabat...I arrived around 6:30 (13 hours later) in Rabat. Had I been 5 minutes later during any part of my trip...I would have missed a connection and would have had to spend the night somewhere. Sidenote: Peace Corps volunteers are not allowed to travel during the night-country policy so I have to make it within 30 minutes after sunset, whereever I'm going.
It was the most exciting transport that I had ever done. Not because I was frantically rushing around, meeting new people, and experience EVERYTHING (buses, trains, McDonalds, air conditioning and non-airconditioning train cars, the beautiful mountains of the High Atlas Range (minus the snow I saw when I first entered country) the barren land between Marrakech and Casablanca, the ocean (my first sight of it since I came to Morocco), and finally...the city of Rabat. OH...and all of my interactions were not only taking place in Tamazirght/Tashlaheit (the language spoken at my site)...but now I had to peice together the little bit of Moroccan Arabic that I knew. Reminder: Moroccan arabic is the universal language of Morocco. Classical arabic (pronounced:foo-sh-hah) is sometimes taught in schools...but all tevelesion shows (well most of them) and news casts are in Moroccan Arabic (pronounced: Dar-e-jah). While some people in my site now Darija...it is at a very basic level (usually acquired from the schooling that they had as children). Therefore, I speak to my community in a Berber language, which is common in mountain areas, and I do not have formal training in Darija...you will soon see why this is a problem.
Luckily, the adrenaline from my travel and constantly trying to figure out where and what everything is masked any pain and uncomfort that I had from my "mystery condition". However, as soon as I settled into my hotel...it all came back (ten fold)...I was beat from a day of exhausting, I was in a foreign city, and I was alone. All I could do was sleep.
The next day I went to the Peace Corps office to meet with medical staff. What I thought would be a quick visit to get some medicine and some medical advice...turned into blood tests and more tests ...and (long story short) I was in Rabat for a full week. The very thorough medical staff sent me to several specialists to determine the reason for my high levels of enzymes in my liver and my oddly low blood pressure. Finally, after a sonogram and a round of giardia medication (a precaution), I was told to spend a couple of days in Rabat (rest) and to come back after the weekend to see if my levels were better. The LAST thing I wanted to do was to stay in a foreign city...how was I suposse to rest? There was so much I needed to do back in my community (I was thinking "I'm already behind with my language and my should-be projects)...but slowely but surely I met other Peace Corps volunteers who were in Rabat and we were able to spend more and more time together. I enjoyed some lovely meals (italian, sushi, good ol' fashion hamburgers, etc.) and as I regained my strength, I was able to get out more and start to enjoy the city. I took long walks on the beach, watch the final game of the world cup on big screen tvs (the first time I have seen a tv larger than my head, while in Morocco) and explore some of the historical sites that Rabat holds (such as history and art museums...as well as light houses, kasbahs-former forts and much more).
By the time I came back to the Peace Corps doctors on that Monday, I was relaxed and alot less stressed. Luckily, the tests were looking better and they said that it was time for me to finally head back to site (which was muscia to my ears). They never did find out what the cause of my symptoms were, but they suspected it was a virus that hitter me alot harder than I would have expected. They told me to return in a month to make sure that all of my levels are back to normal. In the meantime, I was headed back to site. Unlike my journey to Rabat...even if I was to wake up early...there is not way that I could make it back tomy site in one day. So I took it slowely..train by train, bus to bus, taxi to tranzit and finally back to site. I felt refreshed and well fed by the time I got back to site.
The next two weeks were full of me trying to play catch up with what was going on in community. There were still so many questions that I wanted to ask before I headed off to my training (which marked my 3 month mark as a PCV) and had to finish a report for Peace Corps. So, I stayed in site and hunkered down. I did alot of decorating and reached out to my neighbors to learn more about the people who live right around the corner (or in my case...right around the other side of the sheep barn.
At the end of July, it was time for me to head to Ouarzazate, the capitol of the Ouarzazate Province for a two week training. Up until this point, all of our trainings were meant to prepare us (language-wise and technically) on how to gather information that we would need from our community and how to begin to integrate into my community. Now, it was time for us to learn how to work with our communities to implement projects, once we had finished identifying the needs and the available resources. So, we spent 8 or 9 hours a day talking about midwifes, maternal health workshops, HIV/STI prevention and how to present it in an appropriate way, how to train youth to train their peers about health issues, how to work with associations/communes, how to arrange festivals and other outreach events, how to build wells, how to identify safe and un-safe drinking sources, and of course ...how to do health education in schools (the universal peace corps project for health volunteers). It was alot and it was hot too...luckily, at the beginning and end of each day, there was time for me to swim some laps in the wonderful 25 meter pool at the hotel and to simply lounge and enjoy the sun. So after two weeks of alot of pool time and even more training...i was ready to go back to site and hunker down.
But then...there was Ramadan. One of the most important holidays in the Muslim religion is the month-long sunrise to sunset fasting called Ramadan. It is a time of reflection, alms-giving, feeling solidarity with the poor, and suffering (the no food and no water during the day part). This year (because it goes by the Islmaic calendar) it fell during the month of August (and some of September). Life still goes on during Ramadan...but days are shortened (for workers), people don't spend as much time outside, and all of the social activities that would hapen during the day...well they happen betweeen 7pm and 4am. I decided that I would fast this year (for an undetermined amount of time) and it was a great experience. Every night I would wait for the call to prayer that marked the end of fasting (pronounced: l-mg-er-rib) and I would eat till my little stomach couldn't take anymore. I'd usually eat again around 10pm and then I would sleep. Then I would wake up at 3am to prepare the final meal before fasting (pronounced: sh-oar)and wait for the call to prayer that signals the beginning of fasting for the day. It was quite an experience. I had more down time during the day and did more relaxed things with my community (like opening walnuts or just hanging around cooking). I also set out to make banana bread for all of the familys I was close with (I think they liked it?), but I stopped fasting when it was time to attend a regional meeting (where all of the PCVs in my area got together to discuss future collaborations and projects). Right after the regional meeting, it was time for me to head back to Rabat for a check up...but this time I was going back in style.
I decided to take a short side trip to Casablanca (instead of overnighting in Marrakech...which is about the half way point for the usually two day trip). Casablance was great. I was able to tour the largest mosque in Africa where over 100,000 people pray during the nights (all at once!) inside and outside of the mosque. They use thousands of speakers to broadcast the call to prayer. This was quite the occassion because most mosques are only open to Muslims and non-believers are not allowed to enter, yet alone to tour. But this was quite the treat..the mosque cost over 800 million dollars (U.S. dollars) and is massive. Its amazing and beautiful and spectacular all at the same time. Also, I was able to visit the famous Rick's cafe, from the movie Casablanca (it was a must see). It was possible the best (non-Moroccan) meal that I have had in country to date.
Luckily, the appointment went great and I was able to leave Rabat the day after I arrived. It was a wonderful trip out of site, but now that Ramadan is coming to an end...I have alot of stuff that I need to prepare for because nce Ramadan ends...it's school time, which hopefully means health classes and some more projects with the children and young adults in my community. So there is alot to look forward to in the coming month. I also will be doing some maternal health outreach at an upcoming "wedding festival" a few hours from my site. I'll be sure to tell you more (later) about why they call it that...but you can guess for now. I also will be taking my new companion (a beatiful black and white kitten, who was rescued by a nearby PCV from some kids) to my site today. So I look forward to welcoming him to our home.
Alot has happened, but there's so much to look forward to...hopefully I can be much better about sharing this all with you!
Just a few days ago (September 3) marked my 6 month mark in country. I have been in Morocco for 6 months and have been a Peace Corps Volunteer (officially for 4 months). With that said, I have endured many challenges.I have spotted and killed more scorpions then I would have ever liked to. I have been told endless times "You know nothing" (the universal Moroccan phrase which means...your Tamazirght is terrible!) I have misinterpreted sentences countless amounts of times (which sometimes puts me on the wrong side of town or talking to the wrong person (who usually turns out to be the right person for something else). ...And I have spent many nights in my house wondering why I chose to live in a big house, in middle of Morocco-where close to no one speaks English- when I could be at home enjoying the comfort of my home and family/friends in the States...
But then a small boy will come and knock on my door and ask me to come play with him. Or I will run into one of my neighbors by the river and we'll wash our clothes, side by side, for hours at a time (because...believe me...it takes hours). Or someone will ask me about myself or about my family....and those are the moments that make everything. There have been alot of challenges over the past six months...everything from bed bugs, scorpions, sickness, language barrier, frustrations of having to create my own workplan AND find people who can help me create/implement it in a culturally sensitive way....but at the end of the day, the positives ALWAYS outweigh the positives. I find myself getting sad (teary sometimes), not because I'm homesick, because I will never be able to fully share this wonderful experience with the people that I love so much.
So, what have I been doing over the past two months? Well, that's a loaded question. July was quite the month for me. It began with an unexpected trip to Rabat (the capitol) due to some medical concerns. July 1st marked my first night in my new home. I was extremely excited to finally be settled in (I had a fridge, a new stove,my bed, drawers, dressers-everything...well...everything rural Morocco style). It felt wonderful to have my own space where I could walk around in capris and tshirts and not have to worry if someone saw me bearing my knees or my elbows. I finally had a safe space. My house still needed a fair amount of decorating...but that would come in the future. However, after a lovely evening in the fields with some of the women, I noticed a rash on my hands and feet. I didn't think much of it....until it began to spread. I will say that being in Peace Corps had made me listen to my body more than I ever have had to do before in my life. We have constant access to medical staff (via phone) and a wonderful health center in Rabat. So after day three of the rash (at this point, my whole body is this rash) I start to wonder if it was really just an allergic reaction to the plant in the field (as I mentioned before). After keeping in contact with the Peace Corps medical staff over teh next few days and some failed attemps at medicine....it was time for me to make my first big trek through Morocco. I was to travel from my mountain top site (in Southern Morocco) to the northern (-ish) Coast of Morocco. So, I woke up at 3:30am to begin a very FULL day of travelling. After an early morning tranzit ride down the mountain, a quick sprint to catch a suok bus (a run down, but still operating, coach bus service) to Marrakech, another frantic taxi ride to catch the 1 o'clock train, and a VERY HOT train ride to Rabat...I arrived around 6:30 (13 hours later) in Rabat. Had I been 5 minutes later during any part of my trip...I would have missed a connection and would have had to spend the night somewhere. Sidenote: Peace Corps volunteers are not allowed to travel during the night-country policy so I have to make it within 30 minutes after sunset, whereever I'm going.
It was the most exciting transport that I had ever done. Not because I was frantically rushing around, meeting new people, and experience EVERYTHING (buses, trains, McDonalds, air conditioning and non-airconditioning train cars, the beautiful mountains of the High Atlas Range (minus the snow I saw when I first entered country) the barren land between Marrakech and Casablanca, the ocean (my first sight of it since I came to Morocco), and finally...the city of Rabat. OH...and all of my interactions were not only taking place in Tamazirght/Tashlaheit (the language spoken at my site)...but now I had to peice together the little bit of Moroccan Arabic that I knew. Reminder: Moroccan arabic is the universal language of Morocco. Classical arabic (pronounced:foo-sh-hah) is sometimes taught in schools...but all tevelesion shows (well most of them) and news casts are in Moroccan Arabic (pronounced: Dar-e-jah). While some people in my site now Darija...it is at a very basic level (usually acquired from the schooling that they had as children). Therefore, I speak to my community in a Berber language, which is common in mountain areas, and I do not have formal training in Darija...you will soon see why this is a problem.
Luckily, the adrenaline from my travel and constantly trying to figure out where and what everything is masked any pain and uncomfort that I had from my "mystery condition". However, as soon as I settled into my hotel...it all came back (ten fold)...I was beat from a day of exhausting, I was in a foreign city, and I was alone. All I could do was sleep.
The next day I went to the Peace Corps office to meet with medical staff. What I thought would be a quick visit to get some medicine and some medical advice...turned into blood tests and more tests ...and (long story short) I was in Rabat for a full week. The very thorough medical staff sent me to several specialists to determine the reason for my high levels of enzymes in my liver and my oddly low blood pressure. Finally, after a sonogram and a round of giardia medication (a precaution), I was told to spend a couple of days in Rabat (rest) and to come back after the weekend to see if my levels were better. The LAST thing I wanted to do was to stay in a foreign city...how was I suposse to rest? There was so much I needed to do back in my community (I was thinking "I'm already behind with my language and my should-be projects)...but slowely but surely I met other Peace Corps volunteers who were in Rabat and we were able to spend more and more time together. I enjoyed some lovely meals (italian, sushi, good ol' fashion hamburgers, etc.) and as I regained my strength, I was able to get out more and start to enjoy the city. I took long walks on the beach, watch the final game of the world cup on big screen tvs (the first time I have seen a tv larger than my head, while in Morocco) and explore some of the historical sites that Rabat holds (such as history and art museums...as well as light houses, kasbahs-former forts and much more).
By the time I came back to the Peace Corps doctors on that Monday, I was relaxed and alot less stressed. Luckily, the tests were looking better and they said that it was time for me to finally head back to site (which was muscia to my ears). They never did find out what the cause of my symptoms were, but they suspected it was a virus that hitter me alot harder than I would have expected. They told me to return in a month to make sure that all of my levels are back to normal. In the meantime, I was headed back to site. Unlike my journey to Rabat...even if I was to wake up early...there is not way that I could make it back tomy site in one day. So I took it slowely..train by train, bus to bus, taxi to tranzit and finally back to site. I felt refreshed and well fed by the time I got back to site.
The next two weeks were full of me trying to play catch up with what was going on in community. There were still so many questions that I wanted to ask before I headed off to my training (which marked my 3 month mark as a PCV) and had to finish a report for Peace Corps. So, I stayed in site and hunkered down. I did alot of decorating and reached out to my neighbors to learn more about the people who live right around the corner (or in my case...right around the other side of the sheep barn.
At the end of July, it was time for me to head to Ouarzazate, the capitol of the Ouarzazate Province for a two week training. Up until this point, all of our trainings were meant to prepare us (language-wise and technically) on how to gather information that we would need from our community and how to begin to integrate into my community. Now, it was time for us to learn how to work with our communities to implement projects, once we had finished identifying the needs and the available resources. So, we spent 8 or 9 hours a day talking about midwifes, maternal health workshops, HIV/STI prevention and how to present it in an appropriate way, how to train youth to train their peers about health issues, how to work with associations/communes, how to arrange festivals and other outreach events, how to build wells, how to identify safe and un-safe drinking sources, and of course ...how to do health education in schools (the universal peace corps project for health volunteers). It was alot and it was hot too...luckily, at the beginning and end of each day, there was time for me to swim some laps in the wonderful 25 meter pool at the hotel and to simply lounge and enjoy the sun. So after two weeks of alot of pool time and even more training...i was ready to go back to site and hunker down.
But then...there was Ramadan. One of the most important holidays in the Muslim religion is the month-long sunrise to sunset fasting called Ramadan. It is a time of reflection, alms-giving, feeling solidarity with the poor, and suffering (the no food and no water during the day part). This year (because it goes by the Islmaic calendar) it fell during the month of August (and some of September). Life still goes on during Ramadan...but days are shortened (for workers), people don't spend as much time outside, and all of the social activities that would hapen during the day...well they happen betweeen 7pm and 4am. I decided that I would fast this year (for an undetermined amount of time) and it was a great experience. Every night I would wait for the call to prayer that marked the end of fasting (pronounced: l-mg-er-rib) and I would eat till my little stomach couldn't take anymore. I'd usually eat again around 10pm and then I would sleep. Then I would wake up at 3am to prepare the final meal before fasting (pronounced: sh-oar)and wait for the call to prayer that signals the beginning of fasting for the day. It was quite an experience. I had more down time during the day and did more relaxed things with my community (like opening walnuts or just hanging around cooking). I also set out to make banana bread for all of the familys I was close with (I think they liked it?), but I stopped fasting when it was time to attend a regional meeting (where all of the PCVs in my area got together to discuss future collaborations and projects). Right after the regional meeting, it was time for me to head back to Rabat for a check up...but this time I was going back in style.
I decided to take a short side trip to Casablanca (instead of overnighting in Marrakech...which is about the half way point for the usually two day trip). Casablance was great. I was able to tour the largest mosque in Africa where over 100,000 people pray during the nights (all at once!) inside and outside of the mosque. They use thousands of speakers to broadcast the call to prayer. This was quite the occassion because most mosques are only open to Muslims and non-believers are not allowed to enter, yet alone to tour. But this was quite the treat..the mosque cost over 800 million dollars (U.S. dollars) and is massive. Its amazing and beautiful and spectacular all at the same time. Also, I was able to visit the famous Rick's cafe, from the movie Casablanca (it was a must see). It was possible the best (non-Moroccan) meal that I have had in country to date.
Luckily, the appointment went great and I was able to leave Rabat the day after I arrived. It was a wonderful trip out of site, but now that Ramadan is coming to an end...I have alot of stuff that I need to prepare for because nce Ramadan ends...it's school time, which hopefully means health classes and some more projects with the children and young adults in my community. So there is alot to look forward to in the coming month. I also will be doing some maternal health outreach at an upcoming "wedding festival" a few hours from my site. I'll be sure to tell you more (later) about why they call it that...but you can guess for now. I also will be taking my new companion (a beatiful black and white kitten, who was rescued by a nearby PCV from some kids) to my site today. So I look forward to welcoming him to our home.
Alot has happened, but there's so much to look forward to...hopefully I can be much better about sharing this all with you!
Thursday, July 15, 2010
More Details to Come later...
Hello everyone and thank you for all of the wonderful birthday wishes!
As I mentioned before, I travelled to Rabat last Wednesday (for what I thought was an allergic reaction). I ended up spending a whole week in the capitol city, as the wonderful Peace Corps doctors monitored my liver and other symptoms. To make a very long story short...I am fine! I suffered from an unexplained virus which hit me harder than I usually like to be hit...but allowed me to spend my 24th birthday in one of the most amazing cities I've ever been to.
Three is so much to tell about the city, the beach, the history, the shopping, the new languages...it was sensory overload (oh and did I mention the food!). I hope to go into much more details in a later blog post, but I wanted to reassure everyone that I am healthy and rejuvinated. I look forward to getting back to my site (today!) after two full days of travel from rabat (which included a train, a bus, a grand taxi ride, a petit taxi ride, and a tranzit ride...basically every form of transportaion...except donkey...but the day is still young).
Have a wonderful day!
As I mentioned before, I travelled to Rabat last Wednesday (for what I thought was an allergic reaction). I ended up spending a whole week in the capitol city, as the wonderful Peace Corps doctors monitored my liver and other symptoms. To make a very long story short...I am fine! I suffered from an unexplained virus which hit me harder than I usually like to be hit...but allowed me to spend my 24th birthday in one of the most amazing cities I've ever been to.
Three is so much to tell about the city, the beach, the history, the shopping, the new languages...it was sensory overload (oh and did I mention the food!). I hope to go into much more details in a later blog post, but I wanted to reassure everyone that I am healthy and rejuvinated. I look forward to getting back to my site (today!) after two full days of travel from rabat (which included a train, a bus, a grand taxi ride, a petit taxi ride, and a tranzit ride...basically every form of transportaion...except donkey...but the day is still young).
Have a wonderful day!
Sunday, July 11, 2010
My birthday in Morocco!
Hello from Rabat (the capitol of Morocco)!
As some of you may know, I am in the capitol city because I had a few health issues and was summoned to the Peace Corps offices to get a full check up. I wanted to send a quick post to reassure that I am fine, I am enjoying ALL of the luxuries of the cities (including stores-with posted prices and cash registers, sushi, hot showers, and television--with the world cup). Although my birthday did not entail the relaxing weekend in the mountains, that I originally planned, I have readjusted my plans and have learned to enjoy the city (while my time here last). My travels here took me a full day and will likely take me TWO to get home. I hope to eleaborate more about the frustrations, journeys, language, and all sorts of other details about this beautiful city...at a later point.
In the meantime, I hope that you all enjoy international free slurpee day! Visit your local 7 Eleven for a free 7.11 ounce slurpee...please drink a cherry one on my behalf (needless to say...they do not have 7 Elevens in Morocco...although they have McDonalds, KFC, and other non-slurpee serving food chains)
As some of you may know, I am in the capitol city because I had a few health issues and was summoned to the Peace Corps offices to get a full check up. I wanted to send a quick post to reassure that I am fine, I am enjoying ALL of the luxuries of the cities (including stores-with posted prices and cash registers, sushi, hot showers, and television--with the world cup). Although my birthday did not entail the relaxing weekend in the mountains, that I originally planned, I have readjusted my plans and have learned to enjoy the city (while my time here last). My travels here took me a full day and will likely take me TWO to get home. I hope to eleaborate more about the frustrations, journeys, language, and all sorts of other details about this beautiful city...at a later point.
In the meantime, I hope that you all enjoy international free slurpee day! Visit your local 7 Eleven for a free 7.11 ounce slurpee...please drink a cherry one on my behalf (needless to say...they do not have 7 Elevens in Morocco...although they have McDonalds, KFC, and other non-slurpee serving food chains)
Monday, June 28, 2010
Back when I first started…
I can’t believe that this Thursday (July 1st) will mark my 4 month anniversary (no…I don’t think it’s been too short of a time to call it an anniversary) with the Peace Corps. Really, the journey started over 2 years ago, when I first submitted my application in January of 2008. However, I won’t count back that far…
July 1st will also mark the first night that I will spend (alone) in my new home. The house on the top of the hill, which you can see almost all of the surrounding duwars from, will be my new abode. With four bedrooms (one reserved for my future furry companion), a kitchen, a bathroom (with a shower!), and a garden in the outdoor courtyard that connects of the rooms…this is my new home. Although it was previously the former volunteer’s house…it has been transformed (literally…tons of repairs have been done) physically and psychologically to be my new refuge and safe space. It’s the place where I will likely cry from frustration, the place where I will contemplate leaving Morocco when times get really tough (I’m sure this will happen AT LEAST once a month), the place that will be filled with laughter when other volunteers come to visit, and it will be the place where I learn to truly live the Moroccan way (with a buta gas EVERYTHING…I will heat water, light my stove, warm my oven, and warm my bedroom with a butagas tank). Not to mention, this is also the place where I saw my first scorpion (I guess I’ll be living with a few more “companions” then I originally expected).
With all of that said and done, with the MANY downs and ups that I’ve experience in the past four months…I have spent a lot of time reflecting (when I haven’t been moving all of my stuff from one town to the other…via bicycle…on unpaved roads…as I weave in and out of the grazing sheep). I remember reading the first journal entry from my first day in Morocco…I always enjoy reminiscing on my thoughts, feelings, anxieties, and expectations from before. This journal entry has been my motivation to dig deeper, share more, and experience everything to a greater degree…there is so much that I had dreamed of for this experience. Athough I have already been blow away by the many things and people I’ve encountered (in good and bad ways)…I still have 22 amazing months to live in a world so far from the one that I am used to…and to become a wiser person because of it.
March 3, 2010
Dar Journal,
All of the buildup, the anxiety, the waiting, the excitement, and the frustration ...and I’m finally here! I’m in Morocco as a Peace Corps trainee and I’m determined to become a Peace Corps volunteer. I can never understand how I get so worked up for trips (Australia, Uganda, etc.) and once I set food on home soil…it’s calm…Peace…like a quite, serene lake. It feels so good stepping out of the Casablanca airport, it feels like I’m at home but I don’t have any memories. I’m sure that will change soon.
Today was the beginning of in-country Peace Corps training. Yesterday (two days ago, East Coast time) I said goodbye to Mom and Aunt mom at the hotel n 4th and Arch in Philadelphia. Just months ago, I had been dropped of there to attend the PAHA conference where I was nervous about the presentation I was going to give…I thought I was nervous then? As we drove to Philly and [I] felt all of the could-have-been memories between the three of us, over the next 27 months, I wondered…’what could be better than being with the people I love? Why am I leaving this?” But I knew in the back of my heard that this was something I really wanted and needed in my life. I couldn’t quite articulate it at the time but I knew it was there.
So I went through the motion at staging [in country training] and as I met ore and more people, I began to engage. I quickly found out [the other PC trainees’] names, where they were from, and where they went to school…but then I began to see an emotional/personal layer of the “human onion” that usually takes several layers[and lots of time] to reveal. I saw the aspirations, the hopes, and the fears that [we all] had for this [new] experience. We had become a family…a young one, still learning our roles and our fellow family members, but we were a group of people who never had to justify whey were doing Peace Corps [to each other]. That is what reminded me…why I’m here. Because I want to surround myself with people and [an] environment that will push me and allow me to push them. I want to improve myself and my surrounding…and do it on a global stage. I had fallen back in love with the Peace Corps…my Peace Corps experience…and I had never had a better sleep.
So today, as I rest my head on my pillow in Marrakech where I have officially been welcome by my new Moroccan family (Peace Corps Morocco staff)…I’m ready to explore my new home (the ups, the downs, and everything in between).
Good night,
Ayanna
July 1st will also mark the first night that I will spend (alone) in my new home. The house on the top of the hill, which you can see almost all of the surrounding duwars from, will be my new abode. With four bedrooms (one reserved for my future furry companion), a kitchen, a bathroom (with a shower!), and a garden in the outdoor courtyard that connects of the rooms…this is my new home. Although it was previously the former volunteer’s house…it has been transformed (literally…tons of repairs have been done) physically and psychologically to be my new refuge and safe space. It’s the place where I will likely cry from frustration, the place where I will contemplate leaving Morocco when times get really tough (I’m sure this will happen AT LEAST once a month), the place that will be filled with laughter when other volunteers come to visit, and it will be the place where I learn to truly live the Moroccan way (with a buta gas EVERYTHING…I will heat water, light my stove, warm my oven, and warm my bedroom with a butagas tank). Not to mention, this is also the place where I saw my first scorpion (I guess I’ll be living with a few more “companions” then I originally expected).
With all of that said and done, with the MANY downs and ups that I’ve experience in the past four months…I have spent a lot of time reflecting (when I haven’t been moving all of my stuff from one town to the other…via bicycle…on unpaved roads…as I weave in and out of the grazing sheep). I remember reading the first journal entry from my first day in Morocco…I always enjoy reminiscing on my thoughts, feelings, anxieties, and expectations from before. This journal entry has been my motivation to dig deeper, share more, and experience everything to a greater degree…there is so much that I had dreamed of for this experience. Athough I have already been blow away by the many things and people I’ve encountered (in good and bad ways)…I still have 22 amazing months to live in a world so far from the one that I am used to…and to become a wiser person because of it.
March 3, 2010
Dar Journal,
All of the buildup, the anxiety, the waiting, the excitement, and the frustration ...and I’m finally here! I’m in Morocco as a Peace Corps trainee and I’m determined to become a Peace Corps volunteer. I can never understand how I get so worked up for trips (Australia, Uganda, etc.) and once I set food on home soil…it’s calm…Peace…like a quite, serene lake. It feels so good stepping out of the Casablanca airport, it feels like I’m at home but I don’t have any memories. I’m sure that will change soon.
Today was the beginning of in-country Peace Corps training. Yesterday (two days ago, East Coast time) I said goodbye to Mom and Aunt mom at the hotel n 4th and Arch in Philadelphia. Just months ago, I had been dropped of there to attend the PAHA conference where I was nervous about the presentation I was going to give…I thought I was nervous then? As we drove to Philly and [I] felt all of the could-have-been memories between the three of us, over the next 27 months, I wondered…’what could be better than being with the people I love? Why am I leaving this?” But I knew in the back of my heard that this was something I really wanted and needed in my life. I couldn’t quite articulate it at the time but I knew it was there.
So I went through the motion at staging [in country training] and as I met ore and more people, I began to engage. I quickly found out [the other PC trainees’] names, where they were from, and where they went to school…but then I began to see an emotional/personal layer of the “human onion” that usually takes several layers[and lots of time] to reveal. I saw the aspirations, the hopes, and the fears that [we all] had for this [new] experience. We had become a family…a young one, still learning our roles and our fellow family members, but we were a group of people who never had to justify whey were doing Peace Corps [to each other]. That is what reminded me…why I’m here. Because I want to surround myself with people and [an] environment that will push me and allow me to push them. I want to improve myself and my surrounding…and do it on a global stage. I had fallen back in love with the Peace Corps…my Peace Corps experience…and I had never had a better sleep.
So today, as I rest my head on my pillow in Marrakech where I have officially been welcome by my new Moroccan family (Peace Corps Morocco staff)…I’m ready to explore my new home (the ups, the downs, and everything in between).
Good night,
Ayanna
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Finding a Home in Morocco…
The past two weeks have been great for my language, but bad for my nerves. I recently began a comprehensive housing search in my community. You would think that with 40 duwars (communities) and 20,000 people…there has got to be a dream house (or apartment) waiting for me. Right?…well, things aren’t always as they seem. I guess I will start from the beginning…I’ll warn you know, this is a long story!
Two months ago, as part of my training, I visited my site for a week so that I could get accustomed to the language (which varies depending on the region) and my future community. This was also an important time for me to get as much information from the volunteer that I would be replacing. When I returned to my site, for the long haul, the previous volunteer had left and I was on my own. During that first week, I tried to learn as much as possible about the community, from another volunteer’s perspective, before I was left to fend for myself (and trust in my language skills). One of the things I inquired about was his housing search. At the time, he was living in a house that was surrounded by the sbitar and the elementary school (two important places of work for health volunteers), but was fairly isolated from the larger duwars and there weren’t many neighbors around. Although the lack of neighbors was a downer, the real let-down was when I entered the house. I was greeted by a dog, a pet, and a ton of trash and dog waste all over the garden that was in the middle of the courtyard, and a house that (in general) was in disarray. I should explain that the volunteer was 5 days away from leaving the country and had a lot of packing and cleaning (obviously) to do. So I did not see the house in its best state. Also, I quickly realized that the kitchen AND the outside of the bathroom did not have a door on it…which was concerning because the flies go crazy (in the summer) and the snow can be a bit of a nuisance during the winter…not to mention the wind that sweeps across the mountain top EVERY afternoon. As I mentioned before…I didn’t see the house in its finest state and I was not impressed.
So I left my site visit, and retuned to my training site, expecting to find my own new house for my Peace Corps experience. The former volunteer has mentioned that he had not put much energy into his house search and quickly settled on the house used by the previous volunteer (I failed to mention that the two previous volunteers had lived at this same house…so this house has become associated with Peace Corps volunteers). So I was excited (and determined) to search throughout the entire mountain top…well, really the five or six duwars, which are in reasonable distance to the sbitar, the suok, and the government buildings (schools, associations, commune, etc.). I was really excited to conduct my first ‘international housing search’ and to test out my language skills.
So, once I came back to site, to officially begin my service, I took a few weeks to get accustomed to the people and my new schedule…and then I got down to business. I began to ask anyone and everyone that I knew about houses that were available on throughout the mountain. I quickly realized a few things about my community that never quite struck me before.
1.) To my surprise, a lot of the women that I asked has no clue about housing option in their duwar (town) or outside of their duwar. At first, I thought this was strange, but then I realized that the work of the women (for the most part) is in the house (preparing meals, doing house work, harvesting crops and storing them so that they can be used to make bread or other meals, etc.). Also, women spend a large chunk of time, each day, in the fields. During the summer months, the women in my host family go to the fields three times a day to weed upcoming crops, harvest wheat and barley, and to help prepare the newly harvested fields for the next crop (corn…yum!). There isn’t much time for the women to travel from one duwar to another, unless they are going to visit family or (on a rare occasion) are going to suok. On the flip side, men are typically the travelers who go to suok to purchase food and products for the family. Also, it is perfectly acceptable for men to take tea breaks to go to the nearest hanut (local store) to sit and chat with other men about…well, stuff. Also, in Morocco, families are based on the paternal lineage. When a man and women get married, the wife moves into the house of her husband and becomes a part of her husband’s family unit, which likely includes the wives and children of her husbands’ brothers (who also incorporated their family into their family unit. Therefore, when looking for houses…it is almost certain that the house will be owned by a man, even if the head of the family is a widow. Does it sound odd? If so, take a second look at the typical family (and work/family balance) structure in the U.S….you may find more similarities than you would have expected.
2.) I learned that there is a completely different concept of knowledge in my community (granted some of my perceptions of this may be blurred by my language skills). As I asked around if people knew about available houses and homes, I realized that I had to be very clear about what I wanted. I quickly perfected the phrase, “ihssa ad kruie yat tadart, digs lbit lma, lbit n lhit, lbit n tefeza, d lkuzina. Awd, digs aman d bula. Is imkin?” (I want to rent a house that has a bathroom, a bedroom, a living room, and a kitchen. Also, it should have water and electricity. Is it possible?) The first time I asked about a house, I failed to mention my need for doors on rooms or privacy, not having other people come in and out of the house, etc. So, as the weeks went on, my “renting” vocabulary became very polished. Anywho, each time that I would ask someone if they knew of a house (with my running list of necessities), people would say “yes, I know of a house”. I would get exciting, we would arrange a time to see the house (usually the next day), and then I would come and would realize that there actually wasn’t a house, or it didn’t have electricity or water, or that it was a group house and I would be sharing it with five other people…more like a dormitory (no thank you…2 years of being an RA and I’m over dorm life!). To get to the point…I learned that people are very willing to give information…so willing to help, that it may not actually be the type of help that you need (but the effort is appreciated).
3.) I also learned that things don’t always happen as they do on the home&gardening channel. Just because you set out looking for your “dream house”…it doesn’t mean that you will find it (or find it for the right price…and trust me there is a “right price” according to Peace Corps).
So…where does this leave me. Well, it leaves me without a house (as of yet). I’ve searched around the mountain top for houses, apartments, and even caves (just kidding, I’m not that desperate). Ideally, my “dream house” would be a house that is surrounded by lots of neighbors (that I can get to know and can call on for help when I see my first scorpion…which hopefully won’t happen), a house that has a lot of windows (so I can absorb the sun in the cold cold winters), and place that I have enough space and privacy that I can have a refuge. In some ways, I don’t think I’m asking for too much…but then again, I have to put everything in perspective. There are over 100 teachers that are renting houses in the mountain top (that’s for over 20 schools) and that’s a lot of houses that are already full. There isn’t a huge real estate market in rural Morocco…so houses aren’t exactly built to sell/rent, I have to rely on someone having an extra abode. And, the concept of privacy is very different here…so me finding a place of refuge (just me) is going to be tougher than expected.
With all of that said…I’m up for the challenge. I’m ready to start week three of the housing hunt. I don’t know how it will turn out, in the end (which will hopefully be soon), but I do know that it takes more than a couple of windows, some privacy, and neighbors to make a house into a home. The home is a place …where the heart is (just kidding, that’s a little too cliché). A home is what you make of it…and Morocco is already my home…I just have to find my own mini-Morocco (and add a little bit of USA). I’m exhausted from biking from duwar to duwar (sometimes realizing there is no home to be seen), but my language has improved greatly and I have met some amazing and extremely helpful people along the way. This isn’t the way I would have planned my housing search…but God’s plan is always better than my plan…that’s why I’ve come to expect the unexpected.
Hopefully, in my next email update, you will get a chance to see a picture of my fabulous new home! Until then…wish me happy house searching.
Sidenote: It is not a Peace Corps requirement that a house has running water…however, there is a river nearby that has varying levels of water each year and would require water treatment (by moi) and I would like to go without constantly carrying my water to my house (every day)…call it “Posh Corps” but that is my personal requirement.
Two months ago, as part of my training, I visited my site for a week so that I could get accustomed to the language (which varies depending on the region) and my future community. This was also an important time for me to get as much information from the volunteer that I would be replacing. When I returned to my site, for the long haul, the previous volunteer had left and I was on my own. During that first week, I tried to learn as much as possible about the community, from another volunteer’s perspective, before I was left to fend for myself (and trust in my language skills). One of the things I inquired about was his housing search. At the time, he was living in a house that was surrounded by the sbitar and the elementary school (two important places of work for health volunteers), but was fairly isolated from the larger duwars and there weren’t many neighbors around. Although the lack of neighbors was a downer, the real let-down was when I entered the house. I was greeted by a dog, a pet, and a ton of trash and dog waste all over the garden that was in the middle of the courtyard, and a house that (in general) was in disarray. I should explain that the volunteer was 5 days away from leaving the country and had a lot of packing and cleaning (obviously) to do. So I did not see the house in its best state. Also, I quickly realized that the kitchen AND the outside of the bathroom did not have a door on it…which was concerning because the flies go crazy (in the summer) and the snow can be a bit of a nuisance during the winter…not to mention the wind that sweeps across the mountain top EVERY afternoon. As I mentioned before…I didn’t see the house in its finest state and I was not impressed.
So I left my site visit, and retuned to my training site, expecting to find my own new house for my Peace Corps experience. The former volunteer has mentioned that he had not put much energy into his house search and quickly settled on the house used by the previous volunteer (I failed to mention that the two previous volunteers had lived at this same house…so this house has become associated with Peace Corps volunteers). So I was excited (and determined) to search throughout the entire mountain top…well, really the five or six duwars, which are in reasonable distance to the sbitar, the suok, and the government buildings (schools, associations, commune, etc.). I was really excited to conduct my first ‘international housing search’ and to test out my language skills.
So, once I came back to site, to officially begin my service, I took a few weeks to get accustomed to the people and my new schedule…and then I got down to business. I began to ask anyone and everyone that I knew about houses that were available on throughout the mountain. I quickly realized a few things about my community that never quite struck me before.
1.) To my surprise, a lot of the women that I asked has no clue about housing option in their duwar (town) or outside of their duwar. At first, I thought this was strange, but then I realized that the work of the women (for the most part) is in the house (preparing meals, doing house work, harvesting crops and storing them so that they can be used to make bread or other meals, etc.). Also, women spend a large chunk of time, each day, in the fields. During the summer months, the women in my host family go to the fields three times a day to weed upcoming crops, harvest wheat and barley, and to help prepare the newly harvested fields for the next crop (corn…yum!). There isn’t much time for the women to travel from one duwar to another, unless they are going to visit family or (on a rare occasion) are going to suok. On the flip side, men are typically the travelers who go to suok to purchase food and products for the family. Also, it is perfectly acceptable for men to take tea breaks to go to the nearest hanut (local store) to sit and chat with other men about…well, stuff. Also, in Morocco, families are based on the paternal lineage. When a man and women get married, the wife moves into the house of her husband and becomes a part of her husband’s family unit, which likely includes the wives and children of her husbands’ brothers (who also incorporated their family into their family unit. Therefore, when looking for houses…it is almost certain that the house will be owned by a man, even if the head of the family is a widow. Does it sound odd? If so, take a second look at the typical family (and work/family balance) structure in the U.S….you may find more similarities than you would have expected.
2.) I learned that there is a completely different concept of knowledge in my community (granted some of my perceptions of this may be blurred by my language skills). As I asked around if people knew about available houses and homes, I realized that I had to be very clear about what I wanted. I quickly perfected the phrase, “ihssa ad kruie yat tadart, digs lbit lma, lbit n lhit, lbit n tefeza, d lkuzina. Awd, digs aman d bula. Is imkin?” (I want to rent a house that has a bathroom, a bedroom, a living room, and a kitchen. Also, it should have water and electricity. Is it possible?) The first time I asked about a house, I failed to mention my need for doors on rooms or privacy, not having other people come in and out of the house, etc. So, as the weeks went on, my “renting” vocabulary became very polished. Anywho, each time that I would ask someone if they knew of a house (with my running list of necessities), people would say “yes, I know of a house”. I would get exciting, we would arrange a time to see the house (usually the next day), and then I would come and would realize that there actually wasn’t a house, or it didn’t have electricity or water, or that it was a group house and I would be sharing it with five other people…more like a dormitory (no thank you…2 years of being an RA and I’m over dorm life!). To get to the point…I learned that people are very willing to give information…so willing to help, that it may not actually be the type of help that you need (but the effort is appreciated).
3.) I also learned that things don’t always happen as they do on the home&gardening channel. Just because you set out looking for your “dream house”…it doesn’t mean that you will find it (or find it for the right price…and trust me there is a “right price” according to Peace Corps).
So…where does this leave me. Well, it leaves me without a house (as of yet). I’ve searched around the mountain top for houses, apartments, and even caves (just kidding, I’m not that desperate). Ideally, my “dream house” would be a house that is surrounded by lots of neighbors (that I can get to know and can call on for help when I see my first scorpion…which hopefully won’t happen), a house that has a lot of windows (so I can absorb the sun in the cold cold winters), and place that I have enough space and privacy that I can have a refuge. In some ways, I don’t think I’m asking for too much…but then again, I have to put everything in perspective. There are over 100 teachers that are renting houses in the mountain top (that’s for over 20 schools) and that’s a lot of houses that are already full. There isn’t a huge real estate market in rural Morocco…so houses aren’t exactly built to sell/rent, I have to rely on someone having an extra abode. And, the concept of privacy is very different here…so me finding a place of refuge (just me) is going to be tougher than expected.
With all of that said…I’m up for the challenge. I’m ready to start week three of the housing hunt. I don’t know how it will turn out, in the end (which will hopefully be soon), but I do know that it takes more than a couple of windows, some privacy, and neighbors to make a house into a home. The home is a place …where the heart is (just kidding, that’s a little too cliché). A home is what you make of it…and Morocco is already my home…I just have to find my own mini-Morocco (and add a little bit of USA). I’m exhausted from biking from duwar to duwar (sometimes realizing there is no home to be seen), but my language has improved greatly and I have met some amazing and extremely helpful people along the way. This isn’t the way I would have planned my housing search…but God’s plan is always better than my plan…that’s why I’ve come to expect the unexpected.
Hopefully, in my next email update, you will get a chance to see a picture of my fabulous new home! Until then…wish me happy house searching.
Sidenote: It is not a Peace Corps requirement that a house has running water…however, there is a river nearby that has varying levels of water each year and would require water treatment (by moi) and I would like to go without constantly carrying my water to my house (every day)…call it “Posh Corps” but that is my personal requirement.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Moroccan Recipe
Food tastes great all over the world! Everywhere I have been, I have found a favorite dish. In Australia, it was crocodile…in Uganda, it was goat…I haven’t found a favorite dish yet (it’s too soon to tell), but this is a dish that is certainly in the running.
I thought that I might share it with you, in case you want to experience a small piece of Morocco. This recipe was taken from the fabulous Peace Corps Morocco cookbook, which was put together by dozens of PCVs (past and present) and is written from a U.S. native perspective. So keep in mind that the Moroccan version of this dish would not involve a lot of measurements and cooktimes because the recipe would most likely come from family tradition (and not a cookbook). None the less, enjoy!
Cookware Needed:
Couscousierie
Sifter
Grader
Knives/cutting board
Recipe for Cous Cous
Prep time- approx. 3 hours
1 kg semoul gros (lg grain semolina)
1 kg beef, lamb or chicken (be sure to keep some bone and some fat)
salt, pepper, smen(fermented butter)
fresh coriander
3-4 med onions, coarsely chopped
4-6 med tomaoes, peeled and grated
1 kg carrots (or a little less), cut in half lenghtwise and cored
4-6 zucchini, cut in half lengthwise
½ o ¾ kg pumpkin, peeled and cut into med chunks
handful chickpeas-soaked overnight and skinned
Chop meat into med to large pieces. Wash to clean away sm bone chiops and dry. Begin cooking in bottom of couscousiere with ¼ to ½ cup oil (don’t use olive oil). Add aprox. 2 tablespoons of salt and ½ to ¾ teaspoons of pepper, sm bunch of tied cilantro, onions, tomatoes. Stir and cover. In approx 3 min, add 3 litres of water-when water boils, add carrots and chickpeas. Sift and clean couscous grains. Work enough saltwater into it (with your hands) so that it begins to swell. Sift again and throw out any course pieces. Put into top portion of couscousiere and place on tops of meat and vegetables. Tie a clother around where sections fit together to block escape of steam. Steam for 30 to 40 min.
1st Fluffing: Work in water and fluff with hands until grains fall seartately. Return to steam for 45 min.
2nd Fluffing: Work salted water into couscous and 1-2 tablespoons oil and fluff until grains fall separate again. Return to steam for 20 min. Add zucchini and pumpkin and couple of whole peeled tomatoes on top. Add a few whole cloves.
3rd Fluffing: Add 2-3 tablespoons smen (fermented butter) and fluff again. When vegetables are done, take out cloves and pile couscous into cone shape on a large plate. Push down center of cone and arrange meat and vegetables putting the meat on the cous cous first (vegetables to follow). Place vegetables, in a decorative pattern, on top of couscous. Spoon some sauce over all and serve addition sauce on side.
*Eating Instructions*Now that you are finished, enjoy your cous cous with a spoon or with your hands. Most Moroccan dishes that I have experienced, especially cous cous, is eaten communely. So sit around the table, with the dish in the middle, and be sure to eat only the food in the triangle in front of you. When eating with your hand, use your right hand (only) to gently mash and toss small amounts of cous cous so that they are molded into balls (slightly larger than a golf ball). Toss it into your mouth and enjoy! If you make a mess and look ridiculous, then you are doing it right…it takes lots of time and practice to eat couscous quickly and properly (without making a mess), but enjoy the experience!
I thought that I might share it with you, in case you want to experience a small piece of Morocco. This recipe was taken from the fabulous Peace Corps Morocco cookbook, which was put together by dozens of PCVs (past and present) and is written from a U.S. native perspective. So keep in mind that the Moroccan version of this dish would not involve a lot of measurements and cooktimes because the recipe would most likely come from family tradition (and not a cookbook). None the less, enjoy!
Cookware Needed:
Couscousierie
Sifter
Grader
Knives/cutting board
Recipe for Cous Cous
Prep time- approx. 3 hours
1 kg semoul gros (lg grain semolina)
1 kg beef, lamb or chicken (be sure to keep some bone and some fat)
salt, pepper, smen(fermented butter)
fresh coriander
3-4 med onions, coarsely chopped
4-6 med tomaoes, peeled and grated
1 kg carrots (or a little less), cut in half lenghtwise and cored
4-6 zucchini, cut in half lengthwise
½ o ¾ kg pumpkin, peeled and cut into med chunks
handful chickpeas-soaked overnight and skinned
Chop meat into med to large pieces. Wash to clean away sm bone chiops and dry. Begin cooking in bottom of couscousiere with ¼ to ½ cup oil (don’t use olive oil). Add aprox. 2 tablespoons of salt and ½ to ¾ teaspoons of pepper, sm bunch of tied cilantro, onions, tomatoes. Stir and cover. In approx 3 min, add 3 litres of water-when water boils, add carrots and chickpeas. Sift and clean couscous grains. Work enough saltwater into it (with your hands) so that it begins to swell. Sift again and throw out any course pieces. Put into top portion of couscousiere and place on tops of meat and vegetables. Tie a clother around where sections fit together to block escape of steam. Steam for 30 to 40 min.
1st Fluffing: Work in water and fluff with hands until grains fall seartately. Return to steam for 45 min.
2nd Fluffing: Work salted water into couscous and 1-2 tablespoons oil and fluff until grains fall separate again. Return to steam for 20 min. Add zucchini and pumpkin and couple of whole peeled tomatoes on top. Add a few whole cloves.
3rd Fluffing: Add 2-3 tablespoons smen (fermented butter) and fluff again. When vegetables are done, take out cloves and pile couscous into cone shape on a large plate. Push down center of cone and arrange meat and vegetables putting the meat on the cous cous first (vegetables to follow). Place vegetables, in a decorative pattern, on top of couscous. Spoon some sauce over all and serve addition sauce on side.
*Eating Instructions*Now that you are finished, enjoy your cous cous with a spoon or with your hands. Most Moroccan dishes that I have experienced, especially cous cous, is eaten communely. So sit around the table, with the dish in the middle, and be sure to eat only the food in the triangle in front of you. When eating with your hand, use your right hand (only) to gently mash and toss small amounts of cous cous so that they are molded into balls (slightly larger than a golf ball). Toss it into your mouth and enjoy! If you make a mess and look ridiculous, then you are doing it right…it takes lots of time and practice to eat couscous quickly and properly (without making a mess), but enjoy the experience!
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Communication
I just wanted to say a few quick words about my communication in Morocco. Now that I am finally settled in my lovely site, I have been able to establish a more routine schedule. As many of you know, I do have a Moroccan cell phone, which was basically mandated by Peace Corps so that I can get in touch with them/vice versa in the case of a medical emergency, if an important message needs to be sent, or if someone is just checking in with me. The cell phone coverage in country is very good…about 95% of Morocco is covered by a cell phone network. Although cell phone companies often offer internet services in areas where they are covered, I have not looked into potential internet access in my site (for several reasons).
1.) I don’t have a yearning to check my email or the web everyday. It has been a huge relief to be able to spend more time having personal interactions with people or receiving snail mail from family/loved ones.
2.) I am afraid that internet access (if it is possible at my future house) may hinder my community integration…forcing me to spend more time on gchat or downloading tv shows…then working on my language or learning about the everday lives of my neighbors and friends
3.) Internet is expensive and I make enough to live, but not enough for the luxuries I am accustomed to in the States (which is fine by me)
Although I don’t have regular access to internet, I am in the closest town (it would be a stretch to call it a city) every Wednesday for my language tutoring sessions. There are internet cafes here and I am able to send emails, get updates, etc. So I hope to be able to update the blog on a more regular basis and respond to emails and mail (since there is a post office in this town) on a more regular basis.
1.) I don’t have a yearning to check my email or the web everyday. It has been a huge relief to be able to spend more time having personal interactions with people or receiving snail mail from family/loved ones.
2.) I am afraid that internet access (if it is possible at my future house) may hinder my community integration…forcing me to spend more time on gchat or downloading tv shows…then working on my language or learning about the everday lives of my neighbors and friends
3.) Internet is expensive and I make enough to live, but not enough for the luxuries I am accustomed to in the States (which is fine by me)
Although I don’t have regular access to internet, I am in the closest town (it would be a stretch to call it a city) every Wednesday for my language tutoring sessions. There are internet cafes here and I am able to send emails, get updates, etc. So I hope to be able to update the blog on a more regular basis and respond to emails and mail (since there is a post office in this town) on a more regular basis.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
A New Site, A New Life
This week marks the end of my second full week at my final site. On May 6th, I left the city of Ouarzazate to travel to my final site. In Ouarzazate, I left many comforts behind, including…the comfort of my fellow trainees (who I can share experiences with and relate to, the comfort of having a language/cultural coordinator (who could always translate for me if and when I got into a bind)…and (most importantly) I left behind the comfort of being a novice to this language and culture.
I’m now officially a volunteer, on my own, and am expected to act as a representative of the Peace Corps and our country. The time for making mistakes (language mess-ups and cultural faux pas) has come and gone. Although, there are still many mistakes that I have yet to make (and surely will in the future), it’s up to me to live with the consequences of those mistakes (whether it is accidentally drinking un-treated water or miscommunicating a meeting time because of my lack of language skills). I’ve found that I have to be on my ‘A’ game all of the time. I have to pay close attention to every word that is said to, always think about what I’m doing/wearing and what impression that gives to other people in my community, and I have to try to look through the lense of another culture. I often ask myself, what would I do if I were a child that had never left the mountain top before and I saw someone from another country, who speaks a different language, and looks nothing like me. I would probably stare in silence as well. The same goes for adults, if I had only ever heard my native tongue and I meet an adult who is only able to talk at a fifth grade level, I would probably expect them to know more and would become frustrated easily.
I’ve never had to think quicker or react calmer than I have in the past two weeks. It’s tough, but the rewards are immeasurable. I live by the motto that everyday has its downs, but they can never outweigh the ‘ups’. I have learned to value the small successes and to try and put the failures/frustrations into perspective. For every person that I meet who is unwilling to listen to my broken Tamazirght, there are three people who are more than happy to welcome me into their home, drink tea with me, and help me learn more about their town, culture, and language. These past two weeks have been a delight. For the next three months, my job will be to perform a community assessment and learn what the health concerns, needs, and resources of the community so that I can formulate a plan (along with the sbitar staff and other community members) on how to address some of these needs. It’s hard to think about what my everyday life will be like after I have performed the community assessment…I imagine that my language will be much better, I will know all of the bike routes between towns (like the back of my hand), and that I will have a much better bearing than I do now. But it’s hard to look that far ahead in the future because everyday poses a new challenge and a new lesson…so I try to stay near-sighted and focus on the here and the now.
I’m now officially a volunteer, on my own, and am expected to act as a representative of the Peace Corps and our country. The time for making mistakes (language mess-ups and cultural faux pas) has come and gone. Although, there are still many mistakes that I have yet to make (and surely will in the future), it’s up to me to live with the consequences of those mistakes (whether it is accidentally drinking un-treated water or miscommunicating a meeting time because of my lack of language skills). I’ve found that I have to be on my ‘A’ game all of the time. I have to pay close attention to every word that is said to, always think about what I’m doing/wearing and what impression that gives to other people in my community, and I have to try to look through the lense of another culture. I often ask myself, what would I do if I were a child that had never left the mountain top before and I saw someone from another country, who speaks a different language, and looks nothing like me. I would probably stare in silence as well. The same goes for adults, if I had only ever heard my native tongue and I meet an adult who is only able to talk at a fifth grade level, I would probably expect them to know more and would become frustrated easily.
I’ve never had to think quicker or react calmer than I have in the past two weeks. It’s tough, but the rewards are immeasurable. I live by the motto that everyday has its downs, but they can never outweigh the ‘ups’. I have learned to value the small successes and to try and put the failures/frustrations into perspective. For every person that I meet who is unwilling to listen to my broken Tamazirght, there are three people who are more than happy to welcome me into their home, drink tea with me, and help me learn more about their town, culture, and language. These past two weeks have been a delight. For the next three months, my job will be to perform a community assessment and learn what the health concerns, needs, and resources of the community so that I can formulate a plan (along with the sbitar staff and other community members) on how to address some of these needs. It’s hard to think about what my everyday life will be like after I have performed the community assessment…I imagine that my language will be much better, I will know all of the bike routes between towns (like the back of my hand), and that I will have a much better bearing than I do now. But it’s hard to look that far ahead in the future because everyday poses a new challenge and a new lesson…so I try to stay near-sighted and focus on the here and the now.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Re-learning how to ride a bike
Two weeks ago I spent a week in my new home in Ouarzazate. It was nice to have a time during our training to visit the site that we will spend our two years of service at. Luckily, I have been placed in the same province that I trained in, so once I am on my own I feel like I have somewhat confident traveling through the region by myself. Also, my final placement site is not far past the site that I have trained in so I ended up pick up the Peace Corps bike that was at my training site and taking it to my final site.
Although my final site is not far from my training site, I was amazed by the change in climate and geography as I traveled an hour past my training village into the mountains and into one of the most beautiful places that I have ever visited, lived, or worked. It was amazing. Half way up the mountain, the main road turns into an unpaved word that is twisting and turning throughout the mountains. I was squished into the back seat of the transit with four other people so I wasn’t able to understand take in the full beauty of my site OR to see the edge of the cliff that we were driving on. (Side note: A transit is a small bus that is commonly used to transport people from rural areas to big cities.) I was able to steal a few peaks out of the window, but I was not able to discover the beauty of my sight until the first full day that I spent in my bike.
After I arrived at my site and met my host family. I spent the night meeting my family, talking about my life in the States, enjoying a lot of mint tea (a Moroccan delicacy), and take a few strolls through town to get familiar with the place.
The next morning the first duty of business, after breakfast and second breakfast (at 7am and then 10am), I went for an introductory bike ride of the community. This is when I first realized the beauty and vastness of my new hometown. As I traveled from village to village, I would find myself in a different ecosystem with every time. My town is a combination of grasslands and desert-like climate. My town is littered with fields (corn, wheat, walnut trees, apple trees, and so much more), however if you travel along the main road, which is a dirt road, in 2 km in any direction….the fields and lush green nature disappears and you are surrounded by nothing but rocks, sand, and probably some snacks and scorpions hiding under the many rocks. When you are in between the towns, you feel as if you are in the middle of nowhere and there is no one around. However, as you travel down a hill, around a mountain, or through a field…another town mysteriously appears. The next town with a unique, yet beautiful climate. Some towns are surrounded by nothing but rocks, others are carved into the sides of cliffs, and others are surrounded by the a dense forest. Although my mountain top, which covers 70km, is extremely diverse…every duwar (town) in my area shares one important quality…it has a beautiful view of the mountains that surround our gorge, especially the snow covered mountains of the nearby Atlas Mountains. I could not have dreamed of a more breath-taking place to spend my service.
Although the towns are spread by (mostly) main roads…the fastest way to get to a place is a straight line. Unfortunately, the fastest way isn’t always the paved way…well, there aren’t any “paved” paths. So I have learned how to “re-ride” a bicycle through irrigation ditches, through rock scattered fields, around the fields, through a field of sheep, and many other obstacles. I have never rode my bicycle so much in one week.
Although my legs and arms were sore by the time I returned to our training hub…I am so excited to get back to this beautiful place that I will call home starting on May 6th! In addition to the amazing climate…the people are ten times more welcoming and amazing than the scenery is…but I will save that story for another day.
Although my final site is not far from my training site, I was amazed by the change in climate and geography as I traveled an hour past my training village into the mountains and into one of the most beautiful places that I have ever visited, lived, or worked. It was amazing. Half way up the mountain, the main road turns into an unpaved word that is twisting and turning throughout the mountains. I was squished into the back seat of the transit with four other people so I wasn’t able to understand take in the full beauty of my site OR to see the edge of the cliff that we were driving on. (Side note: A transit is a small bus that is commonly used to transport people from rural areas to big cities.) I was able to steal a few peaks out of the window, but I was not able to discover the beauty of my sight until the first full day that I spent in my bike.
After I arrived at my site and met my host family. I spent the night meeting my family, talking about my life in the States, enjoying a lot of mint tea (a Moroccan delicacy), and take a few strolls through town to get familiar with the place.
The next morning the first duty of business, after breakfast and second breakfast (at 7am and then 10am), I went for an introductory bike ride of the community. This is when I first realized the beauty and vastness of my new hometown. As I traveled from village to village, I would find myself in a different ecosystem with every time. My town is a combination of grasslands and desert-like climate. My town is littered with fields (corn, wheat, walnut trees, apple trees, and so much more), however if you travel along the main road, which is a dirt road, in 2 km in any direction….the fields and lush green nature disappears and you are surrounded by nothing but rocks, sand, and probably some snacks and scorpions hiding under the many rocks. When you are in between the towns, you feel as if you are in the middle of nowhere and there is no one around. However, as you travel down a hill, around a mountain, or through a field…another town mysteriously appears. The next town with a unique, yet beautiful climate. Some towns are surrounded by nothing but rocks, others are carved into the sides of cliffs, and others are surrounded by the a dense forest. Although my mountain top, which covers 70km, is extremely diverse…every duwar (town) in my area shares one important quality…it has a beautiful view of the mountains that surround our gorge, especially the snow covered mountains of the nearby Atlas Mountains. I could not have dreamed of a more breath-taking place to spend my service.
Although the towns are spread by (mostly) main roads…the fastest way to get to a place is a straight line. Unfortunately, the fastest way isn’t always the paved way…well, there aren’t any “paved” paths. So I have learned how to “re-ride” a bicycle through irrigation ditches, through rock scattered fields, around the fields, through a field of sheep, and many other obstacles. I have never rode my bicycle so much in one week.
Although my legs and arms were sore by the time I returned to our training hub…I am so excited to get back to this beautiful place that I will call home starting on May 6th! In addition to the amazing climate…the people are ten times more welcoming and amazing than the scenery is…but I will save that story for another day.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
I'm staying in Ouarzazate
Hello everyone,
As you may know, my Peace Corps training period will come to an end soon. As tough as the language has been and as exiting as it has been to meet so many new people (from Morocco and the U.S.)...it is time for me to move away from the group training structure and to venture out onto my own. My swearing in ceremony is scheduled for May 5th. Afterwards I will officially be a Peace Corps Volunteer(PCV). You may be wondering what I have been for the past month and a half...well, I've been a Peace Corps trainee. Before you become a volunteer, you have to show a certain level of proficiency in your target language (which for me is Tamazirght) and you have to be familiar with Peace Corps policies and Moroccan cultural norms. All of these things were touched upon during my last month and a half of training.
I have been training in Ouarzazate province, which is east of Marrakech city. I recently found out (to my surprise) that I will also be serving in the Ouarzazate province. This is great news because there is still so much of the province that I have yet to explore and experience. Ouarzazate province is home to mountains, valleys, gorges, rivers, dams, Ouarzazate city, movie studios (where several films,like thbe Gladiator, were shot).... and the desert. It is a beautiful region that continues to take my breathe away every time I travel through it and I look forward to getting to know my community. Feel free to look it up on a map...although many of the rural areas that I have been to are not posted or identified on many maps.
Some of you have requested that I post pictures and I'm sorry that I was not successful in uploading some of my pictures earlier. The internet has come with varying levels of speed and accessibility...some days it is fast...other days it is not...and some days I can't get it at all (and my access is limited to large cities and my suok town). So unfortunately, it seems as if there will not be many pictures included on this blog, however I will do my best to describe some of the amazing people and places that I encounter.
Surprisingly, I have come to learn to live without the internet and have found many other ways to occupy my time (studying, learning but I'm always thankful when I am able to get online and have an email or a message from a loved one back home. Thank you again to all of you that have sent encouraging words, updates, and hellos. I will try to send emails as quickly as I possibly can.
I look forward to posting more updates within the next week about how my visit to my community went. I will spend the next couple of days visiting my final site community and hopefully testing my language skills with the people I will live with for the next two years...in the meantime, have a wonderful day and know that I am sending you tons of love (and sand) from Morocco!
As you may know, my Peace Corps training period will come to an end soon. As tough as the language has been and as exiting as it has been to meet so many new people (from Morocco and the U.S.)...it is time for me to move away from the group training structure and to venture out onto my own. My swearing in ceremony is scheduled for May 5th. Afterwards I will officially be a Peace Corps Volunteer(PCV). You may be wondering what I have been for the past month and a half...well, I've been a Peace Corps trainee. Before you become a volunteer, you have to show a certain level of proficiency in your target language (which for me is Tamazirght) and you have to be familiar with Peace Corps policies and Moroccan cultural norms. All of these things were touched upon during my last month and a half of training.
I have been training in Ouarzazate province, which is east of Marrakech city. I recently found out (to my surprise) that I will also be serving in the Ouarzazate province. This is great news because there is still so much of the province that I have yet to explore and experience. Ouarzazate province is home to mountains, valleys, gorges, rivers, dams, Ouarzazate city, movie studios (where several films,like thbe Gladiator, were shot).... and the desert. It is a beautiful region that continues to take my breathe away every time I travel through it and I look forward to getting to know my community. Feel free to look it up on a map...although many of the rural areas that I have been to are not posted or identified on many maps.
Some of you have requested that I post pictures and I'm sorry that I was not successful in uploading some of my pictures earlier. The internet has come with varying levels of speed and accessibility...some days it is fast...other days it is not...and some days I can't get it at all (and my access is limited to large cities and my suok town). So unfortunately, it seems as if there will not be many pictures included on this blog, however I will do my best to describe some of the amazing people and places that I encounter.
Surprisingly, I have come to learn to live without the internet and have found many other ways to occupy my time (studying, learning but I'm always thankful when I am able to get online and have an email or a message from a loved one back home. Thank you again to all of you that have sent encouraging words, updates, and hellos. I will try to send emails as quickly as I possibly can.
I look forward to posting more updates within the next week about how my visit to my community went. I will spend the next couple of days visiting my final site community and hopefully testing my language skills with the people I will live with for the next two years...in the meantime, have a wonderful day and know that I am sending you tons of love (and sand) from Morocco!
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
The Only Routine is there is NO routine
It has been three weeks since I first arrived in Morocco and I am finally beginning to feel at home. I’ve begun to love small things about Morocco and have taken them as my own. My favorite part of the day is the first half an hour that I’m awake. My favorite scene is not the snow-capped Atlas mountains or the mini water falls that are created by the cliffs below my village. It’s not the field of rose bushes and walnut trees nor is it the running river that runs between my town and the neighboring duwars. My favorite view of the day is when I first wake up and I se the sunbeams shine through my stained glass windows and they highlight the thousands of teeny holes in my mosquito net. The first fifteen minutes of the day is my favorite time of the day.
After those first fifteen minutes, when I am reminded that I really am in Morocco, every other aspect of the day is a surprise. Sometimes they are good surprises and other times they make me question why I left the comfort of my home, but the journey I have taken is so special because of the positives and negatives and that will make this experience memorable.
One of the more exciting days was our first souk (market) day. Once a week, a nearby town hosts a souk, a large outdoor market. Souk attracts people from 50 or more kilometers away and provides a large variety of fresh meats, vegetables, fruits, spices, clothing, music, fresh mint tea, and almost anything else that you can imagine. Our souk town also hosts restaurants, cybers (cyber cafes), and lots of cheap shopping for the everyday. I had been looking forward to our souk day for over a week because it was an opportunity to travel outside of our village and see some of the other health trainees who lived in nearby towns/villages…but I had no idea what I was getting myself into.
We left our site at 8am and traveled via transit (a small bus that serves as a cheap form of transportation in rural Morocco). Our ride was no longer than 25 minutes and we arrived at the souk town, but there was no sign of civilization….so we began to walk. We walked for what seemed to be a half hour down alleys, down a dirt path, over a few hills and then finally we began to see streams of people, cars, and other transportation (yes…there were a few donkeys). We had finally arrived at souk. It was the largest open air market that I had ever seen. We walked past dozens of cages of live chickens (who would soon meet their end), more oranges than I could ever imagine eating, and so many different spices that I didn’t have time to stop and smell them all.
Since this was my training groups first time at souk, our language teacher decided to use this as an educational moment. As she stood somewhat silently in the background, we tried to maneuver our way through asking how much different items were (per kilo), bargaining for good prices, and getting all of the items we would need for our lunches and snacks. I thought this would be a manageable task…we had gone over food vocabulary, we knew the basic numbers, I was familiar with the currency (Durham), and I have always been a fan of bargaining. Sounds easy…wrong. The first vendor we went to was selling copious amounts of fresh fruits and vegetables. Note: the best quality food is available earlier in the souk (around 8 or 9) but it also more expensive and more difficult to bargain. As we began to ask how much for matisa (tomatoes) and batata (potatos) per kilo…I thought we were getting good prices so we started filling bags with tons of food. After we had picked enough at that stall, I asked “Shail kochi” (how much for everything) and the vendor replied 600. I was shocked…there was no way that 3 kilo of carrots, 2 kilo of potatoes, and a few other kilos of fruits should cost so much. After recalculating the math and going over the prices…I thought we were being swindled …taken advantage of. I could tell the man was getting frustrated and so was I, but right before I was ready to throw in the towel, my language teacher came over and explained that the price was correct. We were to pay 600 rayal…which is a completely different currency than the Moroccan Durham that I was familiar with. The rayal is a currency that is used primarily in rural areas in Morocco. 20 rayal = 1 durham and 1 durham = (approximately) 9 US dollars. So we ended up paying about 30 durham (less than 4 dollars) for a few bags of fruits/vegetables. We definitely got a good deal, but it took forever to identify all of the different things we needed, to pick out good quality, and to figure out the total price. It was definitely a learning experience that left me exhausted, but I was also exhilarated at the end of the souk because we were able to get almost everything we needed, with the exception of some cheese that we were able to get from the supermarche. I loved talking with the vendors. For the most part, they all were willing to speak slowly and indulge my fragmented pronunciation of sentences and words.
Going to souk was not an ordinary day (we got to travel out of site, I saw other PC volunteers and trainees, I got to hear some French and saw more than one vehicle drive by every hour). But in many days it was a typical day…I woke up that morning and could never have imagined the challenges and victories that I would experience before the day would be over. The days have been long and tough, but I wouldn’t change it for the world. I look forward to continuing to share this experience with all of you!
Quick note: I have finally begun to settle into my new room and have started decorating the walls. I have designated one wall space as a “words from the wise” area where I can post inspirational and encouraging phrases so that I have a visual reference when times get tough. It includes phrases like “ Take it one moment at a time” and “Celebrate the small victories”. I would love to include any quotes, jokes, advice, or sayings that you think would be helpful….if anything, you’ll be able to know that your words are “published” in Morocco (sort of).
After those first fifteen minutes, when I am reminded that I really am in Morocco, every other aspect of the day is a surprise. Sometimes they are good surprises and other times they make me question why I left the comfort of my home, but the journey I have taken is so special because of the positives and negatives and that will make this experience memorable.
One of the more exciting days was our first souk (market) day. Once a week, a nearby town hosts a souk, a large outdoor market. Souk attracts people from 50 or more kilometers away and provides a large variety of fresh meats, vegetables, fruits, spices, clothing, music, fresh mint tea, and almost anything else that you can imagine. Our souk town also hosts restaurants, cybers (cyber cafes), and lots of cheap shopping for the everyday. I had been looking forward to our souk day for over a week because it was an opportunity to travel outside of our village and see some of the other health trainees who lived in nearby towns/villages…but I had no idea what I was getting myself into.
We left our site at 8am and traveled via transit (a small bus that serves as a cheap form of transportation in rural Morocco). Our ride was no longer than 25 minutes and we arrived at the souk town, but there was no sign of civilization….so we began to walk. We walked for what seemed to be a half hour down alleys, down a dirt path, over a few hills and then finally we began to see streams of people, cars, and other transportation (yes…there were a few donkeys). We had finally arrived at souk. It was the largest open air market that I had ever seen. We walked past dozens of cages of live chickens (who would soon meet their end), more oranges than I could ever imagine eating, and so many different spices that I didn’t have time to stop and smell them all.
Since this was my training groups first time at souk, our language teacher decided to use this as an educational moment. As she stood somewhat silently in the background, we tried to maneuver our way through asking how much different items were (per kilo), bargaining for good prices, and getting all of the items we would need for our lunches and snacks. I thought this would be a manageable task…we had gone over food vocabulary, we knew the basic numbers, I was familiar with the currency (Durham), and I have always been a fan of bargaining. Sounds easy…wrong. The first vendor we went to was selling copious amounts of fresh fruits and vegetables. Note: the best quality food is available earlier in the souk (around 8 or 9) but it also more expensive and more difficult to bargain. As we began to ask how much for matisa (tomatoes) and batata (potatos) per kilo…I thought we were getting good prices so we started filling bags with tons of food. After we had picked enough at that stall, I asked “Shail kochi” (how much for everything) and the vendor replied 600. I was shocked…there was no way that 3 kilo of carrots, 2 kilo of potatoes, and a few other kilos of fruits should cost so much. After recalculating the math and going over the prices…I thought we were being swindled …taken advantage of. I could tell the man was getting frustrated and so was I, but right before I was ready to throw in the towel, my language teacher came over and explained that the price was correct. We were to pay 600 rayal…which is a completely different currency than the Moroccan Durham that I was familiar with. The rayal is a currency that is used primarily in rural areas in Morocco. 20 rayal = 1 durham and 1 durham = (approximately) 9 US dollars. So we ended up paying about 30 durham (less than 4 dollars) for a few bags of fruits/vegetables. We definitely got a good deal, but it took forever to identify all of the different things we needed, to pick out good quality, and to figure out the total price. It was definitely a learning experience that left me exhausted, but I was also exhilarated at the end of the souk because we were able to get almost everything we needed, with the exception of some cheese that we were able to get from the supermarche. I loved talking with the vendors. For the most part, they all were willing to speak slowly and indulge my fragmented pronunciation of sentences and words.
Going to souk was not an ordinary day (we got to travel out of site, I saw other PC volunteers and trainees, I got to hear some French and saw more than one vehicle drive by every hour). But in many days it was a typical day…I woke up that morning and could never have imagined the challenges and victories that I would experience before the day would be over. The days have been long and tough, but I wouldn’t change it for the world. I look forward to continuing to share this experience with all of you!
Quick note: I have finally begun to settle into my new room and have started decorating the walls. I have designated one wall space as a “words from the wise” area where I can post inspirational and encouraging phrases so that I have a visual reference when times get tough. It includes phrases like “ Take it one moment at a time” and “Celebrate the small victories”. I would love to include any quotes, jokes, advice, or sayings that you think would be helpful….if anything, you’ll be able to know that your words are “published” in Morocco (sort of).
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Community Based Training
I have passed the one week point and am happy to say that I am adjusting well to Moroccan life. After spending about five days in hotels where we learned more about our training and how to prepare for life in a rural community…w have finally move to our community based training sites (CBTs). I have been placed in a beautiful rural town in the Ouarzazate region that is a beautiful combination of all of the wonders of Moroccan nature. The town is situation near a trickling river that is surrounded by grassland and the farther away from the river you travel it turns into a forest of eucalypts-looking trees (which are my favorite trees) and then the trees slowly turn into sand (we are in the desert) and finally the town is surrounded by mountains (sand mountains). It is the perfect oasis in the desert. I live with a host family and I have my own room on the second floor of their house. I have a host mother, father, 2 sisters, brother-in law, and I believe two younger brothers.
It has been a very interesting first two days at my CBT. I arrive Sunday during the evening and was led to our house by my host sister, Nora. I was greeted by all of the females in the family and my two younger brothers and we sat and had tea together (mint tea is served frequently in Morocco and is a form of hospitality). The next few hours a lot of hand expression were used to communicate. I quickly learned how to say eat and drink (prior to this I was learning Moroccan Arabic but people in my host town usually only speak Tamazirt) because I was oferred a lot of food and a lot of tea. After tea, I was given my Moroccan name, which is pronounced Ha-dee-jah. Although my host family has tried to pronounce my name…it is very difficult for them so (as most PCV volunteers have experienced) I was given a new name and that is how my community identifies me. Also Ayanna (in Moroccan Arabic) means tired or lazy…so it makes for a very interesting first conversation with people.
Over the next two days at my site, my days went something like the following:
6am: Alarm goes off
6:45: Wake up after several snoozes
7am: Eat breakfast with host mom and sister. Breakfast is often bread, tea, olives, and butter
7:45: Walk to school (language courses with the five other PC trainees)
8:00-10:00: Language class with our language and culture coordinator
10:00: Tea (mint tea and bread with cheese)
10:30: more language classes
12:00: Lunch at school
12:45-2:00: Break where we can journal, play soccer, etc.
2:00-4:00: Culture sessions (either group discussion with LCF or assignments that require us to go out into the community and practice our language skills
4:00: More tea
4:30-6:30: More culture and language session
6:30: Head back to our separate host families where we have mint tea, watch Moroccan soap operas (they have them at night…not during the day) and help family cook/prepare meals
9:00 Dinner
9:30: I excuse myself to go to my room (and take some personal time after a long day of learning)
10:00: Go to bed
The days are certainly jammed packed with activity but I am excited about the progress I have made over a few days. I am currently back in the city (for two days of training) but I leave for my host community in a few hours. This time we will be there for two weeks straight. It will hard learning more vocabulary and language skills (especially ones that are related to the health sector) but I am excited to try and form an ultimate Frisbee team and learn more about the nature and environment that surrounds my time. When I get a chance…I will post some pictures of my town and tell you more about my amazing host family.
It has been a very interesting first two days at my CBT. I arrive Sunday during the evening and was led to our house by my host sister, Nora. I was greeted by all of the females in the family and my two younger brothers and we sat and had tea together (mint tea is served frequently in Morocco and is a form of hospitality). The next few hours a lot of hand expression were used to communicate. I quickly learned how to say eat and drink (prior to this I was learning Moroccan Arabic but people in my host town usually only speak Tamazirt) because I was oferred a lot of food and a lot of tea. After tea, I was given my Moroccan name, which is pronounced Ha-dee-jah. Although my host family has tried to pronounce my name…it is very difficult for them so (as most PCV volunteers have experienced) I was given a new name and that is how my community identifies me. Also Ayanna (in Moroccan Arabic) means tired or lazy…so it makes for a very interesting first conversation with people.
Over the next two days at my site, my days went something like the following:
6am: Alarm goes off
6:45: Wake up after several snoozes
7am: Eat breakfast with host mom and sister. Breakfast is often bread, tea, olives, and butter
7:45: Walk to school (language courses with the five other PC trainees)
8:00-10:00: Language class with our language and culture coordinator
10:00: Tea (mint tea and bread with cheese)
10:30: more language classes
12:00: Lunch at school
12:45-2:00: Break where we can journal, play soccer, etc.
2:00-4:00: Culture sessions (either group discussion with LCF or assignments that require us to go out into the community and practice our language skills
4:00: More tea
4:30-6:30: More culture and language session
6:30: Head back to our separate host families where we have mint tea, watch Moroccan soap operas (they have them at night…not during the day) and help family cook/prepare meals
9:00 Dinner
9:30: I excuse myself to go to my room (and take some personal time after a long day of learning)
10:00: Go to bed
The days are certainly jammed packed with activity but I am excited about the progress I have made over a few days. I am currently back in the city (for two days of training) but I leave for my host community in a few hours. This time we will be there for two weeks straight. It will hard learning more vocabulary and language skills (especially ones that are related to the health sector) but I am excited to try and form an ultimate Frisbee team and learn more about the nature and environment that surrounds my time. When I get a chance…I will post some pictures of my town and tell you more about my amazing host family.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Safe and Sound
This morning I arrived in Morocco! I am safe, I am sound, and I am more excited than ever to begin my training. Seventy other Peace Corps invitees (people who have been invited to become a volunteer but have yet to complete the pre-service training) travelled with me from JFK airport to Casablanca. After a three hour drive, we arrived in Marrakesh where we met the Peace Corps Morocco staff.
I don't know what I expected of Morocco, but my expectations have already been surpassed. From the moment we drove away from the airport, my senses have been overwhelmed with the different shades of Moroccan skin tone, the feel of the sun as it weaves in and out of cloud cover, the soft wind, the taste of sweet Moroccan mint tea, and sound of a new and exciting language. I found myself closing my eyes to take it all in...and the best part is that it is just the beginning! Today was a day of rest. We stayed at a hotel in the outskirts of Marrakesh and have been eating fresh fruit, well seasoned meat, the most wonderful mint tea. We are also staying in bugalows (mini-apartments) with 5-6 invitees to a bungalow. We have a toilet, a shower, a bed, a kitchen, and a common area...most importantly, we have wireless internet. This is a luxury that I will never again take for granted. As I have been talking with Peace Corps staff, I've realized that there is a very real possibility that the community I live in may not have running water, electricity, or internet access. I could have all of these ammenties...or none...or somewhere in between. I have my coleman camping shower so I'm set on the water (besides I like wells), and electricity I can go without (or I can learn to)...but if there was anyway that I could garuntee one thing it would be internet access. Now, I know this can't happen without electricity, but my priorities have already been made in my mind. However, I go into the next few days with low expectations, not because I think little of the community where I will be training for the next 10 weeks (starting on Sunday) but because it is better to have low expectations and be surprised than to have you hopes dashed because of unrealistic expectations.
So what is next for me? Tomorrow morning the invitees and Peace Corps staff will travel to the Ouarzazate provence, on the other side of the Atlas Mountains. We will stay there for a few days to finish some fo the medical interviews, vaccinations, training information, etc. On Sunday, we will be split up into small groups (5-6 people) and we will travel to a rural community where we will begin our language training and some health training. We will each stay with a host family during our ten weeks of pre-service training. Throughout the pre-service training, we will occassionally meet as a group again with the 70 other volunteers. At the end of the training, we will take several proficiency test (including policy, language, culture, etc.) and those that make it through (which will hopefully be all of us) will officially be sworn in as Peace Corps volunteers. Yep...and THEN the hard stuff really begins....2 years of service in a rural community.
Sounds crazy? Well, I couldn't be more excited. I have alot to learn and alot to experience (good and bad). I have yet to experience a Moroccan toilet, I have not gotten sick, I have not felt alone, I don't know what it feels like to be the only person who speaks English within a 10 mile radius, and I haven't started craving sushi yet. But then again....I haven't heard the native tongue on my lips, I haven't washed my first batch of clothes (by myself, with the water I pulled from the well), I haven't seen the sun set over the Atlantic Ocean, I haven't eaten goat yet (which I AM looking forward to), and I haven't been able to be a part of the cultural exchange which makes the Peace Corps the amazing experience that it is.
Like I said, there is so much for me to experience and I my plan is still to take it one day at a time, not to sweat the small things, and learn to celebrate the successes (no matter how small they may seem). I look forward to hearing your support during the tough times and sharing the happy times with you. I'm in it to win it...there's no turning back now. There are too many amazing things is this country, this culture, and these people that I have yet to discover and I'm looking forward to the next 27 months to do that.
I don't know what I expected of Morocco, but my expectations have already been surpassed. From the moment we drove away from the airport, my senses have been overwhelmed with the different shades of Moroccan skin tone, the feel of the sun as it weaves in and out of cloud cover, the soft wind, the taste of sweet Moroccan mint tea, and sound of a new and exciting language. I found myself closing my eyes to take it all in...and the best part is that it is just the beginning! Today was a day of rest. We stayed at a hotel in the outskirts of Marrakesh and have been eating fresh fruit, well seasoned meat, the most wonderful mint tea. We are also staying in bugalows (mini-apartments) with 5-6 invitees to a bungalow. We have a toilet, a shower, a bed, a kitchen, and a common area...most importantly, we have wireless internet. This is a luxury that I will never again take for granted. As I have been talking with Peace Corps staff, I've realized that there is a very real possibility that the community I live in may not have running water, electricity, or internet access. I could have all of these ammenties...or none...or somewhere in between. I have my coleman camping shower so I'm set on the water (besides I like wells), and electricity I can go without (or I can learn to)...but if there was anyway that I could garuntee one thing it would be internet access. Now, I know this can't happen without electricity, but my priorities have already been made in my mind. However, I go into the next few days with low expectations, not because I think little of the community where I will be training for the next 10 weeks (starting on Sunday) but because it is better to have low expectations and be surprised than to have you hopes dashed because of unrealistic expectations.
So what is next for me? Tomorrow morning the invitees and Peace Corps staff will travel to the Ouarzazate provence, on the other side of the Atlas Mountains. We will stay there for a few days to finish some fo the medical interviews, vaccinations, training information, etc. On Sunday, we will be split up into small groups (5-6 people) and we will travel to a rural community where we will begin our language training and some health training. We will each stay with a host family during our ten weeks of pre-service training. Throughout the pre-service training, we will occassionally meet as a group again with the 70 other volunteers. At the end of the training, we will take several proficiency test (including policy, language, culture, etc.) and those that make it through (which will hopefully be all of us) will officially be sworn in as Peace Corps volunteers. Yep...and THEN the hard stuff really begins....2 years of service in a rural community.
Sounds crazy? Well, I couldn't be more excited. I have alot to learn and alot to experience (good and bad). I have yet to experience a Moroccan toilet, I have not gotten sick, I have not felt alone, I don't know what it feels like to be the only person who speaks English within a 10 mile radius, and I haven't started craving sushi yet. But then again....I haven't heard the native tongue on my lips, I haven't washed my first batch of clothes (by myself, with the water I pulled from the well), I haven't seen the sun set over the Atlantic Ocean, I haven't eaten goat yet (which I AM looking forward to), and I haven't been able to be a part of the cultural exchange which makes the Peace Corps the amazing experience that it is.
Like I said, there is so much for me to experience and I my plan is still to take it one day at a time, not to sweat the small things, and learn to celebrate the successes (no matter how small they may seem). I look forward to hearing your support during the tough times and sharing the happy times with you. I'm in it to win it...there's no turning back now. There are too many amazing things is this country, this culture, and these people that I have yet to discover and I'm looking forward to the next 27 months to do that.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Leap of faith
"Better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all"..."If you never try you'll never know"..."a life without regrets is a life worth living"...
Can someone explain the difference between taking a leap of faith and jumping off a cliff? It's clear that the most fulfilling life experiences come with a risk, but how can you tell the difference between the experience of a lifetime and a foolish leap that leads to failure?
The real answer (the one no one really wants to tell you) is that you can't tell the difference until after you are have jumped off the cliff. The only distinction between the two is one's perspective when looking back at the glorious (or fatal) leap of faith. Olympic gold medalist will never know if their full potential until they push their body to the limits, try the most difficult jump imaginable, or use the strategy that is risky (but could pull off an upset). Researchers never know the extent of their endless experiments until they finally see the reaction or the cure they have been waiting for. A chef never knows the true beauty of an invention until they see the customer light up with joy after they have eaten. These successes aren't determined at the start line, when brainstorming hypotheses, or when you write the recipe. You have to wait until the finish line.
If there isn't a difference between a leap of faith that lets you soar versus a leap that ends in bandages, then why ask the question? I ask because today marks one of the biggest leaps for me. Today I pack my bags and prepare to leap into a new lifestyle, a new culture, and into a new me. At times, I'm 100% certain that this is the right choice for me and that I will walk away a better person and having contributed to a bettered community...but there are those days that I wonder whether I won't make it to the podium or whether I won't even make it to the finish line. That would be a failure, right?
Well, there's only one way of finding out. Today I take a chance on a dream that is soon to become a reality. I don't know whether I'll make it 27 months, whether life will be too different or too hot or too cold or too anything. I don't know if I'll get sick 13 months in or if my work plan will fall through leaving me stranded and feeling useless. It doesn't matter because the risk of failing is easily surpassed by the possibility of succeeding.
So today, I'm ready to start the next journey in my life and I look forward to looking back to (some day) reminiscing about the journey that helped me become a better, stronger, smarter, and more compassionate me...
but until then I'll take one step at a time, one day at a time, and one leap at a time.
Can someone explain the difference between taking a leap of faith and jumping off a cliff? It's clear that the most fulfilling life experiences come with a risk, but how can you tell the difference between the experience of a lifetime and a foolish leap that leads to failure?
The real answer (the one no one really wants to tell you) is that you can't tell the difference until after you are have jumped off the cliff. The only distinction between the two is one's perspective when looking back at the glorious (or fatal) leap of faith. Olympic gold medalist will never know if their full potential until they push their body to the limits, try the most difficult jump imaginable, or use the strategy that is risky (but could pull off an upset). Researchers never know the extent of their endless experiments until they finally see the reaction or the cure they have been waiting for. A chef never knows the true beauty of an invention until they see the customer light up with joy after they have eaten. These successes aren't determined at the start line, when brainstorming hypotheses, or when you write the recipe. You have to wait until the finish line.
If there isn't a difference between a leap of faith that lets you soar versus a leap that ends in bandages, then why ask the question? I ask because today marks one of the biggest leaps for me. Today I pack my bags and prepare to leap into a new lifestyle, a new culture, and into a new me. At times, I'm 100% certain that this is the right choice for me and that I will walk away a better person and having contributed to a bettered community...but there are those days that I wonder whether I won't make it to the podium or whether I won't even make it to the finish line. That would be a failure, right?
Well, there's only one way of finding out. Today I take a chance on a dream that is soon to become a reality. I don't know whether I'll make it 27 months, whether life will be too different or too hot or too cold or too anything. I don't know if I'll get sick 13 months in or if my work plan will fall through leaving me stranded and feeling useless. It doesn't matter because the risk of failing is easily surpassed by the possibility of succeeding.
So today, I'm ready to start the next journey in my life and I look forward to looking back to (some day) reminiscing about the journey that helped me become a better, stronger, smarter, and more compassionate me...
but until then I'll take one step at a time, one day at a time, and one leap at a time.
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