So, it's 5pm and I'm bundled up in the comfort of my bed with my two cats snuggled up beside me. I'm responding to emails, contemplating leaving the warmth of my blankets to wash my dishes and take my blankets down from the clothes line, and waiting for some of the girls to stop by to hang out.
I really haven't done that much today...woke up at 8am, went to the center of town to buy some toothbrushes for today's health lesson with the kids, ran into some women in the fields on my way to the hanut (general store), held a 2 hour health lesson at my house (today's main topic: toothbrushing sessions), and crawled back into bed to try and finish some reporting and eat lunch. Well, what should have been a 30 minute lunch break turned into an afternoon of "veggin". Yep, this is what happens on a cloudy, somewhat rainy, and VERY windy day in site.
So, in honor of spring break...I'm taking a bit of a break. I'm going through one of those phases where I am enjoying the "messiness" of my life. Yesterday, as I surveyed what I had done (or HAD NOT done) during the day, I declared myself OFFICIALLY "in a rut". I hadn't done the dishes all day long, I had to pull myself out the comfort of my covers to make Fettuccini Alfredo(SIDENOTE: during the winter, if I'm inside of my house, I'm ALWAYS underneath a layer of blankets because there is no heating in my house and I only like to turn on the small heaters that I have when it is extremely cold...which is usually when I wake up in the mornings to grab an early tranzit at 5am).
However today, after a short skype (typing) conversation with a fellow PCV...I realized that I prepared for and implemented a two hour health lesson with 14 loud, whining 3-14 year olds today....I can take the afternoon off (it's ok...really!)I had alot to be tired from. One child refused to brush his teeth (after screaming for a "cooler" toothbrush) and another child threw three tantrums (within an hour) because I wouldn't let him be the first person to brush his teeth. I then proceeded to kick one of the teenage girls out of my house because she was being disruptive and mocking my accent (and then she threw a tantrum). In retrospect, it seems like an unsuccessful program...but that's just on the outside.
The truth of the matter is that more kids showed up today (which has been the trend) than the day before. The kids are always screaming "usteda, usteda, usteda" (which means teacher) and raising their hands because they want to be the first person (or the next in line) to brush their teeth in the hand washing bin that we use. Most of them are really excited to come and spend almost the whole session starring at their new tooth brushes. Every now and then I have to take a toothbrush away because they aren't paying attention to the health video I'm showing or they are whining/complaining that they want to take their toothbrush home, but the reality is that most of the kids have never had their own tooth brush before. Some of them have shared toothbrushed with siblings, when they were younger...but some have never even had one before. I can't blame them that they are excited to have something that belongs to them and only they can use. I also can't blame them for wanting to take it home and have to put it in a special place...but they'll have to wait until Friday.
So here is the way that the curriculum has gone (granted, keep in mind that this is just a test lesson for how to do toothbrushing lessons in the schools when there are about 30 kids per class).
The first day is an assessment of what the kids know (discussion about general hygiene, microbats (germs), and where germs are found). After a discussion about germs and the places they "live", we watched a video (in Tashlaheit) that was produced by Peace Corps volunteers and features Moroccans (health professionals, kids, and general community members) discussing health topics, such as tooth brushing. Then we end the session with a general question and answer about video. The next day we discuss several methods to toothbrushing (how to make a toothbrush if you don't have one or can't afford it, when to brush your teeth, what foods are good and bad for strong teeth) and practice brushing their teeth with toothbrushes that I purchased from the hanut (note: since these are kids whose families I am close with...I forgot about sustainability and bought them each tooth brushes for 2 durhams each, 40 cents, so that they could have something to practice with in hopes that their parents will buy them some in the future).
The next two days are spent reinforcing good techniques for toothbrushing, learning when to brush and watching videos/discussing health topics on handwashing, toothbrushing (again for reinforcement) and anti-smoking.
Each day there is a treat at the end of the 2 hours. The first day they got oranges (a good snack...I try not to give the kids too much sweets although I always end up giving them sugar highs with the carrot cake that I love making), the second and third day I treated them to a post-tooth brushing dance party courtesy of Taylor Swift (for those of you not in the know, a famous US country/pop artist) and the last day they got to take their tootbrushes home. Before the last class ended, we talked about why it is important not to share toothbrushes, where and for how much they can buy their own affordable toothbrush and toothpaste (toothpaste is a little more expenses in rural areas because their aren't as many pharmacies around), where is a safe clean place to put your toothbrush (so that someone doesn't use to clean a shoe or anything like that, and when to replace your toothbrush. I also spoke with parents to reinforce the lessons, which most parents know but don't do for all of their children.
Overall it was chaotic, fun, informative for the kids, and a good practice for me (language-wise, memorizing all of the kids names-15 kids is alot...especially when there were at least 3 Mohammed's in the bunch). I'd say it was a success....at the very least a reinforcement to school health lessons and lessons taught by parents, but this time done by the crazy tarumeet (foreigner).
Friday, January 28, 2011
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Regional Meeting- January 20, 2011
It's good to be back in site.I recently returned from a regional meeting (that included Health, Environment, Small Business Development, and Youth Development volunteers from two provinces). It's good and bad to be home. It's good because all of the contact with other volunteers had led me to developing (or spreading...don't know which one) a pretty nasty cold that requires me to stay put in site for a while. It's also bad because I just found out that good friend of mine is having a birthday celebration down south (Tata Province) this weekend and I would love to be there to celebrate with her. But, as always, the positives surpass the negatives...
Winter break (for schools begins today/tomorrow) so there will be children galour for the coming week or so, which means that it is a perfect time for me to do the week long tooth brushing curriculum that I have been working on/planning and to gather materials for the health club at the middle school. I also have quite a few things that I need to site down and do (reports,be a reader for nominations from the National Abolition Hall of Fame, etc.) The point is...I'm back in site after a great week of productive work, meeting to discuss upcoming projects (with PCVs and Moroccan organizations), lots of good conversations (in English), and sleeping on many different surfaces (which is the Peace Corps way).
Although Peace Corps is a pretty unconventional job...it's still a job where mini-conferences are sometimes needed. Here is a brief overview of our schedule/what we talked about at this last regional meeting.
Saturday
Afternoon arrival—Snacks
4:00-6:00 – Introductions, Team Building, Schedule Check, Assigning Responsibilities (e.g. timekeeper)
7:00pm – Dinner
Sunday
8:00-9:00am – Breakfast
9:00-10:00am – Project Updates / General Q&A Session
10:00-10:45am – Working With Associations (Cory & Melissa)
10:45-11:00am – Break
11:15-12:00am – Gender Relations in Morocco (Felicia)
12:00-2:00pm – Lunch Break
2:00-2:45pm – Health/Sports/Yoga Club (Wes)
2:45-3:15pm – Nomad Health Hikes (Hanna)
3:15-3:45pm – Women’s Leadership Conference (Amber)
3:45-4:15pm – Region-wide Event Small Group/Sector Brainstorming
4:15-4:45pm – Tea Break
4:45-5:15pm – Boundary Setting/Clear Communication (Kaytea)
5:15-6:00pm – Wrap-up / Evaluations / Tentative Plans for Next Meeting
7:30pm – Dinner
Monday
8:00-9:00am – Breakfast
9:00-10:00am – Departure
In particular, I found the "how to work with associations" session to be one of the most helpful sessions. Associations are usually small organizations within each community. In rural areas, usually each town has an association and (outside of the sbitar-health center- and schools) they are one of the main governing bodies that PCVs work with. In my area, most of the associations are inactive, so I have to find other venues to work through. But associations, that are active, often have elected officials and meet regularly to discuss the needs of the community. They also have some sort of funds for community activities and tend to have motivated individuals at the head (who are willing to coordinate projects and whatnot). Although, like any organizations, there are associations that can be defunct or corrupt, they serve as a sustainable venue to perform projects through by helping to provide capacity building skills to association members so that projects and skills can continue to grow after a PCV has left the community. An example is a waste-management project that two volunteers in my area are doing. They worked with an association and their local sbitar staff to gain support for better waste management which has resulted in an unused landfill being re-groomed, the purchase of a trash motorcycle that will be run by the association/commune, several trash pick-up events and education have been implemented, tons of community meetings have been held, and tras bins/barrels have been placed around the community. The hope is that once the volunteers leave, the association and town will continue to contribute (financially and logistically) to make sure that trash is better managed and therefore less diseases (especially those transmitted by flies and rats) will occur.
Winter break (for schools begins today/tomorrow) so there will be children galour for the coming week or so, which means that it is a perfect time for me to do the week long tooth brushing curriculum that I have been working on/planning and to gather materials for the health club at the middle school. I also have quite a few things that I need to site down and do (reports,be a reader for nominations from the National Abolition Hall of Fame, etc.) The point is...I'm back in site after a great week of productive work, meeting to discuss upcoming projects (with PCVs and Moroccan organizations), lots of good conversations (in English), and sleeping on many different surfaces (which is the Peace Corps way).
Although Peace Corps is a pretty unconventional job...it's still a job where mini-conferences are sometimes needed. Here is a brief overview of our schedule/what we talked about at this last regional meeting.
Saturday
Afternoon arrival—Snacks
4:00-6:00 – Introductions, Team Building, Schedule Check, Assigning Responsibilities (e.g. timekeeper)
7:00pm – Dinner
Sunday
8:00-9:00am – Breakfast
9:00-10:00am – Project Updates / General Q&A Session
10:00-10:45am – Working With Associations (Cory & Melissa)
10:45-11:00am – Break
11:15-12:00am – Gender Relations in Morocco (Felicia)
12:00-2:00pm – Lunch Break
2:00-2:45pm – Health/Sports/Yoga Club (Wes)
2:45-3:15pm – Nomad Health Hikes (Hanna)
3:15-3:45pm – Women’s Leadership Conference (Amber)
3:45-4:15pm – Region-wide Event Small Group/Sector Brainstorming
4:15-4:45pm – Tea Break
4:45-5:15pm – Boundary Setting/Clear Communication (Kaytea)
5:15-6:00pm – Wrap-up / Evaluations / Tentative Plans for Next Meeting
7:30pm – Dinner
Monday
8:00-9:00am – Breakfast
9:00-10:00am – Departure
In particular, I found the "how to work with associations" session to be one of the most helpful sessions. Associations are usually small organizations within each community. In rural areas, usually each town has an association and (outside of the sbitar-health center- and schools) they are one of the main governing bodies that PCVs work with. In my area, most of the associations are inactive, so I have to find other venues to work through. But associations, that are active, often have elected officials and meet regularly to discuss the needs of the community. They also have some sort of funds for community activities and tend to have motivated individuals at the head (who are willing to coordinate projects and whatnot). Although, like any organizations, there are associations that can be defunct or corrupt, they serve as a sustainable venue to perform projects through by helping to provide capacity building skills to association members so that projects and skills can continue to grow after a PCV has left the community. An example is a waste-management project that two volunteers in my area are doing. They worked with an association and their local sbitar staff to gain support for better waste management which has resulted in an unused landfill being re-groomed, the purchase of a trash motorcycle that will be run by the association/commune, several trash pick-up events and education have been implemented, tons of community meetings have been held, and tras bins/barrels have been placed around the community. The hope is that once the volunteers leave, the association and town will continue to contribute (financially and logistically) to make sure that trash is better managed and therefore less diseases (especially those transmitted by flies and rats) will occur.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Peace Corps- a group activity?
When I was first notified that I was accepted into the Peace Corps, amongst the first things I did was 1.) notify my job, 2.)plan a trip to the 2010 Vancouver Olympics, 3.)break the news to my family, and 4.) try and prepare myself for a life of solitude.
There were times when I would drive in my car and purposefully turn off the radio not pick up an incoming call (even though it wasn't illegal at the time to drive and talk...it now is, thankfully)all in preparation for the most challenging (and lonely) 26 months of my life. Flash forward a few months...I've arrive in Morocco and am attending one of my first trainings, led by a experienced Peace Corps volunteer (who happens to be retired), and her story includes the words "these HAVE been some of the loneliest months of my life". So, needless to say, all along I was preparing for an experience of isolation. By isolation, I mean an experience where I would not have access to other people from the United States, to the comforts of USA (food, music, and certainly not entertainment), and a drastic changes in work culture ( I was expecting an environment where collaborating was not an option).
Well...I was wrong.
I could not be more wrong. Even within my first week in country, when it was announced that we would be spending our two-month training periods in groups of 6/7, I was reminded of the fact that Peace Corps (at least Peace Corps Morocco is almost ENTIRELY a group experience). Now, when I thought Peace Corps, I thought of living on top of a mountain in the middle of nowhere where you were speaking a language not known to more than a couple thousand people, and with relatively no one to lean on but yourself. I thought...in the tough times, you would have to dig within and rely on the "inner you" to get you through the experience. That was one the reasons I was drawn to the Peace Corps. I wanted to really see who I was on the inside and I wanted an experience that would help mold me into a stronger person (mental and physically). A year before I officially joined the Peace Corps (May 2009), I ran a half-marathon (13.1 miles...about 7.1 miles more than I ever would have liked to have run at once) despite the fact that my body and my mind were telling me that I hate to run and I had no business training months and months for something neither of them wanted to do. But I did it because I figured, if I can prove to myself that I can do this task (something I never wanted or thought I could do), I could begin to think about what it would be like to do the Peace Corps.
So, I was right in two ways. My Peace Corps would leave me in a fairly remote area, where I have to get up at 5am to find transport down the mountain-the only departure time of the day). I was right that the language I speak was used by only a few thousand people in the world, and I was only partly right when I thought I would only have me, myself, and I to lean on....and I'm thankful for this last one.
To sum it up quickly, the Peace Corps community has helped me in almost every aspect of my time here:
Having other people going through the same experience that I am has been a huge emotional support. Every time someone tels me that "I don't know anything", despite the fact that up until that point in the conversation, we have been speaking a language that I had never even heard of until 10 month ago, I know that that happens to everyone. Having other people, doing similar work that I am, has given me a sounding board to bounce ideas off of and an opportunity to learn from others mistakes. Professionally, having other people (from varying backgrounds and experiences) has helped to push me to be a more productive and driver person, which is almost opposite of the environment that I work in-due to the slow pace of progress and the many steps of every minuscule tasks. Having other people here has meant that I have someone to dance with as I try and follow Micheal Jackson's choreography in "This is It" (one of my favorite stress reducing activities), that I have someone to talk to when I simply CANNOT speak another word of Tashlaheit (when I'm on brain overload), and that I can bake carrot cake (and not have to look at skeptical faces taint the beauty that is one of my favorite deserts). Most importantly, running into other Peace Corps volunteers (on the street, at a meeting, randomly at the train station in Marrakech) means that I have someone else (over 200 "someone else"s) to help remind me that, no matter how hard it may seem at times, I am living out an experience that so many people don't have the opportunity to. I am living my dream and I have to live it extra hard because there are millions of people in the U.S. and across the world who will probably never get the chance to give up two years of their life to work as a super super undercompensated volunteer, experience a new culture, learn a language that few people learn as a language other than their first, and live in a place that doesn't even exist on most maps. I'm blessed...and I need to be reminded of that everyday. I don't see Peace Corps volunteers everyday...but once every two or three weeks is enough for me. I've clearly lost most of my social skills..it usually takes a few hours of interactions with other PCVs for me to remember all of the social cues that have been ingrained in me, but hey...this is the Peace Corps after all...
With that said, tomorrow morning (yes, at 6am-when its still dark on top of the mountain and the dogs are barking...loud) I will head to a nearby town to meet with the other PCVs in the area for a regional meeting. We'll discuss everything from innovative ways and places to have health education, the upcoming HIV/STD outreach at a large regional festival, and exchange as much junk(movies, books, clothes, etc.)as humanly possible within two days.
I may be on a haitus for a while (I have to soak up all of the English and all of the U.S.A. time as possible), but I'm sure I'll have alot to tell afterwards. Happy Early Martin Luther King Jr. Day!
There were times when I would drive in my car and purposefully turn off the radio not pick up an incoming call (even though it wasn't illegal at the time to drive and talk...it now is, thankfully)all in preparation for the most challenging (and lonely) 26 months of my life. Flash forward a few months...I've arrive in Morocco and am attending one of my first trainings, led by a experienced Peace Corps volunteer (who happens to be retired), and her story includes the words "these HAVE been some of the loneliest months of my life". So, needless to say, all along I was preparing for an experience of isolation. By isolation, I mean an experience where I would not have access to other people from the United States, to the comforts of USA (food, music, and certainly not entertainment), and a drastic changes in work culture ( I was expecting an environment where collaborating was not an option).
Well...I was wrong.
I could not be more wrong. Even within my first week in country, when it was announced that we would be spending our two-month training periods in groups of 6/7, I was reminded of the fact that Peace Corps (at least Peace Corps Morocco is almost ENTIRELY a group experience). Now, when I thought Peace Corps, I thought of living on top of a mountain in the middle of nowhere where you were speaking a language not known to more than a couple thousand people, and with relatively no one to lean on but yourself. I thought...in the tough times, you would have to dig within and rely on the "inner you" to get you through the experience. That was one the reasons I was drawn to the Peace Corps. I wanted to really see who I was on the inside and I wanted an experience that would help mold me into a stronger person (mental and physically). A year before I officially joined the Peace Corps (May 2009), I ran a half-marathon (13.1 miles...about 7.1 miles more than I ever would have liked to have run at once) despite the fact that my body and my mind were telling me that I hate to run and I had no business training months and months for something neither of them wanted to do. But I did it because I figured, if I can prove to myself that I can do this task (something I never wanted or thought I could do), I could begin to think about what it would be like to do the Peace Corps.
So, I was right in two ways. My Peace Corps would leave me in a fairly remote area, where I have to get up at 5am to find transport down the mountain-the only departure time of the day). I was right that the language I speak was used by only a few thousand people in the world, and I was only partly right when I thought I would only have me, myself, and I to lean on....and I'm thankful for this last one.
To sum it up quickly, the Peace Corps community has helped me in almost every aspect of my time here:
Having other people going through the same experience that I am has been a huge emotional support. Every time someone tels me that "I don't know anything", despite the fact that up until that point in the conversation, we have been speaking a language that I had never even heard of until 10 month ago, I know that that happens to everyone. Having other people, doing similar work that I am, has given me a sounding board to bounce ideas off of and an opportunity to learn from others mistakes. Professionally, having other people (from varying backgrounds and experiences) has helped to push me to be a more productive and driver person, which is almost opposite of the environment that I work in-due to the slow pace of progress and the many steps of every minuscule tasks. Having other people here has meant that I have someone to dance with as I try and follow Micheal Jackson's choreography in "This is It" (one of my favorite stress reducing activities), that I have someone to talk to when I simply CANNOT speak another word of Tashlaheit (when I'm on brain overload), and that I can bake carrot cake (and not have to look at skeptical faces taint the beauty that is one of my favorite deserts). Most importantly, running into other Peace Corps volunteers (on the street, at a meeting, randomly at the train station in Marrakech) means that I have someone else (over 200 "someone else"s) to help remind me that, no matter how hard it may seem at times, I am living out an experience that so many people don't have the opportunity to. I am living my dream and I have to live it extra hard because there are millions of people in the U.S. and across the world who will probably never get the chance to give up two years of their life to work as a super super undercompensated volunteer, experience a new culture, learn a language that few people learn as a language other than their first, and live in a place that doesn't even exist on most maps. I'm blessed...and I need to be reminded of that everyday. I don't see Peace Corps volunteers everyday...but once every two or three weeks is enough for me. I've clearly lost most of my social skills..it usually takes a few hours of interactions with other PCVs for me to remember all of the social cues that have been ingrained in me, but hey...this is the Peace Corps after all...
With that said, tomorrow morning (yes, at 6am-when its still dark on top of the mountain and the dogs are barking...loud) I will head to a nearby town to meet with the other PCVs in the area for a regional meeting. We'll discuss everything from innovative ways and places to have health education, the upcoming HIV/STD outreach at a large regional festival, and exchange as much junk(movies, books, clothes, etc.)as humanly possible within two days.
I may be on a haitus for a while (I have to soak up all of the English and all of the U.S.A. time as possible), but I'm sure I'll have alot to tell afterwards. Happy Early Martin Luther King Jr. Day!
Monday, January 10, 2011
"Cultural Days", January 10, 2011
Recently, I visited a fellow PCV at her site (not too far from the sand dunes) and I found myself staring at one of her walls. She had a make-shift 9 month calendar and each day had an item or two written on it. Some days said "sbitar(health center)" other days said "meet with tutor", "health club at school" or "english lessons". All of these made sense- most of the labels were pretty common for health volunteers. But then i saw the words "community" written on several days and I had to stop and ask my friend what this meant. She told me that these were days that she simply had to be seen out and about in the community, whether she went to the hanut (local convenience store, on a much smaller scale) or whether she hung out at her host family's house for the day and simply relaxed (as people usually do during the winter months, when there is less work in the fields. After I asked her this question, I instantly felt silly because I too mark my calendars with "cultural" days. I guess I was just curious to see what a "cultural day" was to her.
For me, cultural days vary depending on the season and what I need to get done. Some times (like today) I wake up and know that I'm not going to any schools, I won't talk "business" with any community members, and i won't have any official meetings (although every meeting, even a random introduction to someone as I'm walking through the egran-fields- could be a crucial point of contact). Some days I have every intention of getting "work" done, but it turns out to be a cultural day--these days can be hard to deal with because my western trained/outcome-focused education like me to have measurable results at the end of everyday, but somehow I always remember that that is part of the "experience" and I need to go with the flow.
Some days, I schedule nothing more than laundry (which takes forever-especially when I have to walk my stuff down to the river and then walk it all the way back to my house to hang it on my clothes line) and going to the hanut. This may seem like a very lazy day (and sometimes it is, which is ok), but there is alot hidden within these tasks. First, you have to realize that I am "on radar" every time I open my door. Some sees me, sees what I'm wearing, and sees what I'm doing every time I step out of my house. Sometimes, people even see what I'm doing when I'm in my house. Some of my bolder neighbors (in particular a set of brothers who are about 9 years old) love to look into my bedroom window to see if they can find my cats and see what I'm doing inside. It didn't take me long to commission my host father to make me two pairs of blinds. One day (when I first moved in) I was watching a tv show on my computer and I looked up to find several of the men, who were working on the house next door, peering into my living room trying to figure out where the voices were coming from (since everyone knows that I don't have a tv). This is the long way of saying, almost everything I do (including just being here) is a kind of work. This is something we hear alot from Peace Corps staff because it is important that we don't forget that "simply living in Morocco is a job....even when you don't consider our "actual" jobs".
So, with that said, some of my favorite "cultural activities" are:
-playing soccer with a group of kids. the teenage boys have never let me play with them, however, I have noticed that (during the past month) whenever I have joined a soccer game (or just passing around the ball) with younger kids, the teenage boys all of a sudden want to play or take a strong interest in me playing. My goal is that I can gain enough street-credit that the teenage boys will let me play with them next Leid Kbir (which will be next November).
-washing my clothes or blankets at the river-this is a good one. It usually takes hours to wash even a medium size load of clothes. Sometimes I go to the river to help other women wash their clothes, even if I don't have anything to wash. There is a huge sense of community and helping family (even distant family members). Since I don't officially have a family here (although I have a few that have adopted me and try to keep me in the know), a good way to gain trust and become more involved in the community is to take a communal role, like helping to wash each other's clothes
-Working in the field. This is a huge one. During the summer and fall, women (of all ages-include elderly women) work in the fields twice a day (morning and evening) to groom and water the wheat, corn, and barley. There are also big harvest days--everyone helps and then they throw a big party once they are done harvesting and grinding all of the crops (they usually make a soup-like material or cous cous out of the corn/barley...the wheat is used to make bread).
-Henna parties, where we all decorate our hands (sometimes feet) with traditional and modern henna
-coloring sessions and cooking sessions at my house
-Simply letting the kids come into my house and chase the cats around. Nina and Apollo (the cats-which everyone gets a kick out of the fact that they have names)shun me for hours after they have been tramatized by the kids bombarding them with attention. It's a great cultural activity because my community members don't see cats and dogs as pets or members of the family. They have tons of animals around the house/barn (chicken, cows, sheep, goat, etc.) but they aren't part of the family unit and they don't have names. Today some of my neighbors laughed at me when I was trying to calm down a distressed donkey and I referred to him as "Sidi Aserdun" (Mr. Donkey). The kids have gotten better with the cats and many times, when I'm out on walks, women yell out to me "Mayd skart Apollo and Nina?" (How are Apollo and Nina?) before they even ask how I am doing.
-sitting on the cliff by the river, hanging out with the girls/women in my host family
Now that I think of it, I do at least three of these things everyday...and I do them all in another language...so yeah, it is work. It's hard work, but it's also the coolest job that I have ever had. It's great that I get to learn about another culture, about health problems and potential intervention tactics, and a new language...but I think what I like most is that I'm learning how to be a part of a community (other than the one I was born into). The more I hang out with my community members, the more I realize they are just like me, or my uncle, or my neighbor back home, or whoever. I get paid (granted I get paid VERY LITTLE) just to live life. That's pretty cool
Oh and what did I do today....the quick answer. Study the language, wash my laundry, wash the dishes, clean the bathroom, play with the cats, make lunch, write some Peace Corps emails, go to the hanut (which turned into visiting one of my favorite families, plan a henna party for Wednesday, was convinced by my neighbor to run through the fields with her to get her run-away donkey, update my blog, plan an agenda for an upcoming PC meeting, and enjoy the company of my two cats...and I'm exhausted!
For me, cultural days vary depending on the season and what I need to get done. Some times (like today) I wake up and know that I'm not going to any schools, I won't talk "business" with any community members, and i won't have any official meetings (although every meeting, even a random introduction to someone as I'm walking through the egran-fields- could be a crucial point of contact). Some days I have every intention of getting "work" done, but it turns out to be a cultural day--these days can be hard to deal with because my western trained/outcome-focused education like me to have measurable results at the end of everyday, but somehow I always remember that that is part of the "experience" and I need to go with the flow.
Some days, I schedule nothing more than laundry (which takes forever-especially when I have to walk my stuff down to the river and then walk it all the way back to my house to hang it on my clothes line) and going to the hanut. This may seem like a very lazy day (and sometimes it is, which is ok), but there is alot hidden within these tasks. First, you have to realize that I am "on radar" every time I open my door. Some sees me, sees what I'm wearing, and sees what I'm doing every time I step out of my house. Sometimes, people even see what I'm doing when I'm in my house. Some of my bolder neighbors (in particular a set of brothers who are about 9 years old) love to look into my bedroom window to see if they can find my cats and see what I'm doing inside. It didn't take me long to commission my host father to make me two pairs of blinds. One day (when I first moved in) I was watching a tv show on my computer and I looked up to find several of the men, who were working on the house next door, peering into my living room trying to figure out where the voices were coming from (since everyone knows that I don't have a tv). This is the long way of saying, almost everything I do (including just being here) is a kind of work. This is something we hear alot from Peace Corps staff because it is important that we don't forget that "simply living in Morocco is a job....even when you don't consider our "actual" jobs".
So, with that said, some of my favorite "cultural activities" are:
-playing soccer with a group of kids. the teenage boys have never let me play with them, however, I have noticed that (during the past month) whenever I have joined a soccer game (or just passing around the ball) with younger kids, the teenage boys all of a sudden want to play or take a strong interest in me playing. My goal is that I can gain enough street-credit that the teenage boys will let me play with them next Leid Kbir (which will be next November).
-washing my clothes or blankets at the river-this is a good one. It usually takes hours to wash even a medium size load of clothes. Sometimes I go to the river to help other women wash their clothes, even if I don't have anything to wash. There is a huge sense of community and helping family (even distant family members). Since I don't officially have a family here (although I have a few that have adopted me and try to keep me in the know), a good way to gain trust and become more involved in the community is to take a communal role, like helping to wash each other's clothes
-Working in the field. This is a huge one. During the summer and fall, women (of all ages-include elderly women) work in the fields twice a day (morning and evening) to groom and water the wheat, corn, and barley. There are also big harvest days--everyone helps and then they throw a big party once they are done harvesting and grinding all of the crops (they usually make a soup-like material or cous cous out of the corn/barley...the wheat is used to make bread).
-Henna parties, where we all decorate our hands (sometimes feet) with traditional and modern henna
-coloring sessions and cooking sessions at my house
-Simply letting the kids come into my house and chase the cats around. Nina and Apollo (the cats-which everyone gets a kick out of the fact that they have names)shun me for hours after they have been tramatized by the kids bombarding them with attention. It's a great cultural activity because my community members don't see cats and dogs as pets or members of the family. They have tons of animals around the house/barn (chicken, cows, sheep, goat, etc.) but they aren't part of the family unit and they don't have names. Today some of my neighbors laughed at me when I was trying to calm down a distressed donkey and I referred to him as "Sidi Aserdun" (Mr. Donkey). The kids have gotten better with the cats and many times, when I'm out on walks, women yell out to me "Mayd skart Apollo and Nina?" (How are Apollo and Nina?) before they even ask how I am doing.
-sitting on the cliff by the river, hanging out with the girls/women in my host family
Now that I think of it, I do at least three of these things everyday...and I do them all in another language...so yeah, it is work. It's hard work, but it's also the coolest job that I have ever had. It's great that I get to learn about another culture, about health problems and potential intervention tactics, and a new language...but I think what I like most is that I'm learning how to be a part of a community (other than the one I was born into). The more I hang out with my community members, the more I realize they are just like me, or my uncle, or my neighbor back home, or whoever. I get paid (granted I get paid VERY LITTLE) just to live life. That's pretty cool
Oh and what did I do today....the quick answer. Study the language, wash my laundry, wash the dishes, clean the bathroom, play with the cats, make lunch, write some Peace Corps emails, go to the hanut (which turned into visiting one of my favorite families, plan a henna party for Wednesday, was convinced by my neighbor to run through the fields with her to get her run-away donkey, update my blog, plan an agenda for an upcoming PC meeting, and enjoy the company of my two cats...and I'm exhausted!
Sunday, January 9, 2011
January 9, 2011- It's Good to be Home
No matter where I have traveled or how long I've been gone...the first view of the cluster of villages on my mountain top takes my breath away every time. As the tranzit rides bast the thousandth rock wall or the millionth donkey or sheep, eventually we turn the corner of a rock wall and there it is...my home. It's the most beautiful view of the mountaintop. From that turn on, it's down hill-so it's the best point to see almost 7 of the 40 villages (the most you can see at once) of the mountain. You also get the view of the southern High Atlas Mountains, which are sprinkled with snow. It's quite the site to see.
Although the tranzit ride is not too long (no more than 2.5 hours on a bad day and as fast as an hour and 15 minutes on a good day), whenever I arrive back at site, I'm so happy to get home and take a nice warm shower. I do have a shower room and a hot water heater in my house, but the water (which comes from the snow topped mountains, into the chateau, and through my rubini/spicket) is so cold during the winter that the water heater barely gets it to luke warm. Still, every time I get home...I boil as much water as will fit in my largest kettle (about a gallon) and wait for it to boil...as I play with my cats (Apollo and Nina) and snack on some baguettes and apricot jam that I bought from in town. It's a traditional home-coming snack and a real luxury because you certainly can't find baguettes in site (although the home made bread of my neighbors puts up a good fight for best bread in the province). After the water boils (about 20/25 minutes) I mix it with cold water in a bucket and take a "bucket bath" (exactly what it sounds like....just pour the water over you and enjoy the warmth). After this...there's no getting me to leave my house. Any hope for productivity (whether its taking my food scraps to my neighbors so they can give it to their sheep or visiting my host family's house, in a neighboring duwar, to let them know I'm back and play some frisbee) it all has to take place before I get into veg mood.
Today is Sunday and I had quite the productive weekend. I was able to get some "internet" things done in town and had a meeting with some fellow PCVs about the upcoming HIV/STD education project we are collaborating on...so no guilt here. Tonight I will watch some Grey's Anatomy (on my computer), curl up with my kitties, make a work phone call or two, skype (if possible), and enjoy my internet (because I never know how long it will last for. This is a perfect Sunday.
Here's to a good week ahead.
Although the tranzit ride is not too long (no more than 2.5 hours on a bad day and as fast as an hour and 15 minutes on a good day), whenever I arrive back at site, I'm so happy to get home and take a nice warm shower. I do have a shower room and a hot water heater in my house, but the water (which comes from the snow topped mountains, into the chateau, and through my rubini/spicket) is so cold during the winter that the water heater barely gets it to luke warm. Still, every time I get home...I boil as much water as will fit in my largest kettle (about a gallon) and wait for it to boil...as I play with my cats (Apollo and Nina) and snack on some baguettes and apricot jam that I bought from in town. It's a traditional home-coming snack and a real luxury because you certainly can't find baguettes in site (although the home made bread of my neighbors puts up a good fight for best bread in the province). After the water boils (about 20/25 minutes) I mix it with cold water in a bucket and take a "bucket bath" (exactly what it sounds like....just pour the water over you and enjoy the warmth). After this...there's no getting me to leave my house. Any hope for productivity (whether its taking my food scraps to my neighbors so they can give it to their sheep or visiting my host family's house, in a neighboring duwar, to let them know I'm back and play some frisbee) it all has to take place before I get into veg mood.
Today is Sunday and I had quite the productive weekend. I was able to get some "internet" things done in town and had a meeting with some fellow PCVs about the upcoming HIV/STD education project we are collaborating on...so no guilt here. Tonight I will watch some Grey's Anatomy (on my computer), curl up with my kitties, make a work phone call or two, skype (if possible), and enjoy my internet (because I never know how long it will last for. This is a perfect Sunday.
Here's to a good week ahead.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
The Ups and the Downs- January 8, 2011
One of the first pieces of advice that I received from Peace Corps staff was that blogging can be a great way to implement the third goal of Peace Corps (to share another culture with people in the Unites States) and should be used if possible. However, the advice came with a suggestion. Blog about the good days and journal about the bad ones. I always thought this was wise...often times you write about something negative and when you look back it later, you realize it was more of a venting session. That's why journaling (a private venue to let off some steam and work out feelings) often comes with less risks, however today I will make an exception because it was both good and bad (and that captures the essence of a day in my life).
I began the day groggy, snoozing for an hour and a half later than expecting, therefore missing my 8am-9am study time. I knew the day always starts off better when I have reviewed verb conjugation and have studied some vocab, but I let it slide because it was Saturday (suok day...my favorite day of the week). Saturday mornings are a work day for most of my community. The schools, the communes, and the suok are all open until approximately noon (suok is open until 2pm). With that said, I have the opportunity to start the weekend off with some productivity and some good ol'fashion shopping (farmers market style).
So, I left my house with three goals for the morning:
1.Finally fix the front tire of my Peace Corps issued bike (go to the "bike man" at suok"
2. Buy veggies/fruit for the week
3. Buy a phone card
4. Meet with the principle/moudir (pronounced moo-deer) of the middle school and the teachers who are responsible for the health club to discuss which topics will be discussed in the newly regenerated health club that I will be assisting with.
With an emphasis on the fourth goal (the actual work that I had to get done today), I set off. Oh, I failed to mention that I awoke to a mountain-top wide blackout...well, it was during the day so it wasn't quite a black out, but it meant that I couldn't turn my computer on to review some of the materials for the meeting.
Although my day started off slow (partly because of the lingering cold that I have), I made it to suok in time to buy some fruit and veggies, get my bike fixed (more on that later), and buy my phone card. It seems like I hadn't been to suoq in forever. Peace Corps volunteers in Morocco have two days a week where they can travel and not use vacation time (Saturday and Sunday). It's called vacation travel. Although I don't leave site frequently, when I do leave to head into town for groceries, visit the internet cafe (cyber), or hang out with friends...it usually falls on a weekend. With my recent new years travel, work related trips, and my big trip back to the states...I have not been to Saturday suoq in a while...and I missed it. It was so nice to see so many familiar faces. Suoq is not frequently by many women. Typically, the men of the household will buy any items needed for the household. Usually that man will walk, take a donkey, or use the mountain transport (tranzits) to get to and from suoq (especially if they have heavy sacks of food). However, the middle school is within walking distance to suoq so you see alot of kids at suoq (many of who love to follow me around and attemp to speak to me in French...even though I know nothing more than a typical 11th grader who has taken three years of French and forgotten everything beyond "Je m'apelle Khadija. Como t'apelles tu?" Regardless, they love to follow me around and laugh...I've gotten used to it. It doesn't even bother me on suoq days...its part of the experience (any other day and I may have some harsher words for the kids). So, all this is to say, a 24 year old female is not a typical site in suoq, but somehow I feel really at home there. I love waving to my favorite tranzit drivers, who are always careful not to drive too closely to me as they pass my bicycle on the road. Often times the tranzits are packed to the brim (sometimes people even sitting on top. I love picking out the freshest fruit and occasionally bargaining for a lower price. I also love seeing people that I would never see if I didn't go to suoq. There are over 40 villages on my mountain top...many I have never been to...so, it is wonderful to see people that I have ran into while in town or while squished in a tranzit up/down the mountain. I love when they invite me for tea at their house (a good hours tranzit ride away and even more by bike) and I always reply with the typical response "yen wess, inshallah. Lyr hymm lwalidin" (One day, God willing. God bless your parents). These are the parts of the community I miss the most.
So today, I got alot of my favorite parts of my experience AND I got my bike fixed. The tube in my front tire has been leaking air for a month, but I have been too lazy (and its been too cold) for me to attempt to fix it. So I finally decided I would take it to the bike guy at suoq (similar to the iron guy, who added a bike seat, where I can strap large items and bags onto the back of my bike. I gave him all the supplies I had and (surprisingly) he bumped me to the front of the line to fix my bike (granted it wasn't a difficult task for him). He even let me come into his workshop to watch as his took the tube out of the tire (did you know there was a tube inside your bike tire...I didn't until last year!). He refilled the tube with air and submerged it in a banyu (large basin) of water to try and identify where the hole was. He did this by squeezing the tire and seeing where bubbles emerged. He then dried the tire, applied glue to the are, LIT IT ON FIRE (I did not see that step in the instructions), applied a patch to the tube, hammered it down, put the tube back in the tire, and confidently stated "Baraka, iemmra" (Done, it's filled). After a quick inspection (and after restating all the steps to him...to show I was paying attention) I paid him a whooping 120 ryal (with translates to 6 durhams...roughly 80 cents) for his work...he wanted me not to pay him at all...but he literally saved my life-it's easier to escape wild dogs on a bicycle then by foot. So I paid and left for the school.
At the school, everyone was there to meet. We had a brief (30 minutes) meeting about the topics we would discuss in the health club and set another meeting time for when we would arrange the agenda and put up the sign up sheets. We discussed some of the topics I felt were most important and some topics they mentioned before (HIV/STDs, water treatment, first aid, dental hygiene, waste management, environmental issues, etc.) and then planned to meet after the examine period and tests...which unfortunately isn't until early February. However, the school was closing and all the kids had left. So I said my goodbyes (after arranging a ride down the mountain with my moudeer).
On the walk/ride back home, I ran into a group of girls who usually can be pretty sassy, but insisted I walk with them (instead of the much quicker option of riding)...but I had a feeling that they were sincere and so we walked together. We talked about the States, about by I went home for two weeks, about the difference between recent presidents (Obama and Bush), about the work that I use to do in the Unites States with federal food programs, and why I wasn't married at the old age of 24. When one of the girls asked me to bring her tons of clothes back from the U.S., I told her I was working on a pretty tight budget these days and I had to save for things. At this point she insisted I was rich...and I busted out the "money doesn't grow on trees" line that my parents use to give to me. I was pretty impressed at how well it went over. I told the girls that of course I would buy them anything th to do was to go to the douar over and go to the money tree and bring me the money that grew on it. They looked at me weird at first...but then I explained it and we all shared a good laugh. I was laughing because it reminded me of my family ...they laughed because I was laughing oddly and at my own joke.
Once we got to my house, we parted ways and I went to pack for my day in town. I was originally going to town the next day to discuss an upcoming HIV/STD outreach project at a festival in May, but I figure...if I could get a ride...why not go sooner. It beats getting up at 5am, walking a km in the dark to wait for a tranzit to pass the main road.
As I waited around for my ride to come (and watched my cats go crazy in the courtyard) my mood began to change. It was 2 o'clock, 2:30, 3 o'clock...and what had I done with the day? I felt so lazy. I hadn't study (which is what I really need to be focusing on these days, and I was leaving site. Shouldn't I be staying in site. Why was I heading for the hills...just because the electricity was out...this was Peace Corps after all...suck it up and light some candles. My thoughts were interrupted by a call from the moudir telling me he was on his way to pick me up at the main road. So I left, had a great ride down the mountain in a private vehicle. I even had my own seat belt (a rare occurrence in rural Moroccan transportation). We talked about the differences in language in culture between my mountain top and the town that is only 1/1.5 hrs away. We discussed how different words can show varying degrees of respect, and we discussed how he recently climbed the second highest mountain in Morocco, Jbel Imgoun (Mountain Imgoun). It is only a a6 hour hike from my site...however I had been called the wrong mountain Jbel Imgoun for the past eight months. Apparently, the real Jbel Imgoun cannot be seen from my site...you have to walk past the snow capped mountains you can see in my site and then climb the Massif Imgoun. My moudir did it in a day...i would love to attempt it too, but would need to go with some PCVs and proabably with one of the men in my site that knows the way.
Once we got to town, we parted ways (with my moudir headed on a few kms east to his home) and me heading to the cyber cafe to do a first round of checking mail. As I began to walk around town, trying to get some errands done...it set in again. I started to feel unproductive and uneasy. It helped that I ran into a fellow PCV in the cyber cafe and was headed to a PCVs site to spend the night...but the weather (cold, damp, and getting dark) did not contribute to my mood. When I got to the PCVs apartment, I realized that my plans for the meeting tomorrow were not as thought out as I would have liked. the meeting overlapped with a training event that I would have like to have gone to, but didn't know about. I was cold (much colder than I would have been if I was snuggled up in my house with my two cats as feet warmers (one of their many jobs) and I was starting to question how productive my meeting with the teachers really was. We couldn't do anything until February...that was a whole month wasted...what was I supposed to do until then? So I sat there...cold, tired, and wanted to hear a familiar voice from home...but not wanting to spend 100 durhams for a 10 minutes call. So I wallowed...luckily, my friend came home after working in the dar chabab t(the youth center that most youth development peace corps volunteers work at) and we had one of those talks...you know, the "you're not in this along...Peace Corps is tough culturally, physically, but most importantly mentally tough" talks and she helped me realize that's what so great and bad about the Peace Corps. You are pulled and stretched in so many ways, you experience so many feelings within one day, and you have tons and tons of time to think about all of these accomplishments, failures, lessons learned, opportunities missed....that one minute you're laughing and the next you want to cry and go home because "it's not worth being here". This is the time when I am most thankful for the PCVs in my area...because they help ground me and remind me I'm not crazy...I'm just a Peace Corps Volunteer, which is synonymous with being bipolar (believe it or not) and that's nothing to be ashamed of.
So..at the end of all this...was today a good day or a bad day. It was both...it was a typical day. Despite the regrets of not doing things sooner, not being able to communicate everything I wanted to say to the girls (especially when we were talking about the workings of US politics), and not being able to talk to my family at a drop of a dime....I remember my favorite vegetable guy, and the thrill that the bike repair man got when he lit my bike tube on fire and I jolted back, or when my moudir told me that "you may not speak Tashlaheit fluently, but your effort will take you a long way". it's the ups and the downs that make the experience. It makes me really happy (and a little scared) to know that I'll go through this another 540 more days (not that I'm counting)...but, hey, that's Peace Corps.
I began the day groggy, snoozing for an hour and a half later than expecting, therefore missing my 8am-9am study time. I knew the day always starts off better when I have reviewed verb conjugation and have studied some vocab, but I let it slide because it was Saturday (suok day...my favorite day of the week). Saturday mornings are a work day for most of my community. The schools, the communes, and the suok are all open until approximately noon (suok is open until 2pm). With that said, I have the opportunity to start the weekend off with some productivity and some good ol'fashion shopping (farmers market style).
So, I left my house with three goals for the morning:
1.Finally fix the front tire of my Peace Corps issued bike (go to the "bike man" at suok"
2. Buy veggies/fruit for the week
3. Buy a phone card
4. Meet with the principle/moudir (pronounced moo-deer) of the middle school and the teachers who are responsible for the health club to discuss which topics will be discussed in the newly regenerated health club that I will be assisting with.
With an emphasis on the fourth goal (the actual work that I had to get done today), I set off. Oh, I failed to mention that I awoke to a mountain-top wide blackout...well, it was during the day so it wasn't quite a black out, but it meant that I couldn't turn my computer on to review some of the materials for the meeting.
Although my day started off slow (partly because of the lingering cold that I have), I made it to suok in time to buy some fruit and veggies, get my bike fixed (more on that later), and buy my phone card. It seems like I hadn't been to suoq in forever. Peace Corps volunteers in Morocco have two days a week where they can travel and not use vacation time (Saturday and Sunday). It's called vacation travel. Although I don't leave site frequently, when I do leave to head into town for groceries, visit the internet cafe (cyber), or hang out with friends...it usually falls on a weekend. With my recent new years travel, work related trips, and my big trip back to the states...I have not been to Saturday suoq in a while...and I missed it. It was so nice to see so many familiar faces. Suoq is not frequently by many women. Typically, the men of the household will buy any items needed for the household. Usually that man will walk, take a donkey, or use the mountain transport (tranzits) to get to and from suoq (especially if they have heavy sacks of food). However, the middle school is within walking distance to suoq so you see alot of kids at suoq (many of who love to follow me around and attemp to speak to me in French...even though I know nothing more than a typical 11th grader who has taken three years of French and forgotten everything beyond "Je m'apelle Khadija. Como t'apelles tu?" Regardless, they love to follow me around and laugh...I've gotten used to it. It doesn't even bother me on suoq days...its part of the experience (any other day and I may have some harsher words for the kids). So, all this is to say, a 24 year old female is not a typical site in suoq, but somehow I feel really at home there. I love waving to my favorite tranzit drivers, who are always careful not to drive too closely to me as they pass my bicycle on the road. Often times the tranzits are packed to the brim (sometimes people even sitting on top. I love picking out the freshest fruit and occasionally bargaining for a lower price. I also love seeing people that I would never see if I didn't go to suoq. There are over 40 villages on my mountain top...many I have never been to...so, it is wonderful to see people that I have ran into while in town or while squished in a tranzit up/down the mountain. I love when they invite me for tea at their house (a good hours tranzit ride away and even more by bike) and I always reply with the typical response "yen wess, inshallah. Lyr hymm lwalidin" (One day, God willing. God bless your parents). These are the parts of the community I miss the most.
So today, I got alot of my favorite parts of my experience AND I got my bike fixed. The tube in my front tire has been leaking air for a month, but I have been too lazy (and its been too cold) for me to attempt to fix it. So I finally decided I would take it to the bike guy at suoq (similar to the iron guy, who added a bike seat, where I can strap large items and bags onto the back of my bike. I gave him all the supplies I had and (surprisingly) he bumped me to the front of the line to fix my bike (granted it wasn't a difficult task for him). He even let me come into his workshop to watch as his took the tube out of the tire (did you know there was a tube inside your bike tire...I didn't until last year!). He refilled the tube with air and submerged it in a banyu (large basin) of water to try and identify where the hole was. He did this by squeezing the tire and seeing where bubbles emerged. He then dried the tire, applied glue to the are, LIT IT ON FIRE (I did not see that step in the instructions), applied a patch to the tube, hammered it down, put the tube back in the tire, and confidently stated "Baraka, iemmra" (Done, it's filled). After a quick inspection (and after restating all the steps to him...to show I was paying attention) I paid him a whooping 120 ryal (with translates to 6 durhams...roughly 80 cents) for his work...he wanted me not to pay him at all...but he literally saved my life-it's easier to escape wild dogs on a bicycle then by foot. So I paid and left for the school.
At the school, everyone was there to meet. We had a brief (30 minutes) meeting about the topics we would discuss in the health club and set another meeting time for when we would arrange the agenda and put up the sign up sheets. We discussed some of the topics I felt were most important and some topics they mentioned before (HIV/STDs, water treatment, first aid, dental hygiene, waste management, environmental issues, etc.) and then planned to meet after the examine period and tests...which unfortunately isn't until early February. However, the school was closing and all the kids had left. So I said my goodbyes (after arranging a ride down the mountain with my moudeer).
On the walk/ride back home, I ran into a group of girls who usually can be pretty sassy, but insisted I walk with them (instead of the much quicker option of riding)...but I had a feeling that they were sincere and so we walked together. We talked about the States, about by I went home for two weeks, about the difference between recent presidents (Obama and Bush), about the work that I use to do in the Unites States with federal food programs, and why I wasn't married at the old age of 24. When one of the girls asked me to bring her tons of clothes back from the U.S., I told her I was working on a pretty tight budget these days and I had to save for things. At this point she insisted I was rich...and I busted out the "money doesn't grow on trees" line that my parents use to give to me. I was pretty impressed at how well it went over. I told the girls that of course I would buy them anything th to do was to go to the douar over and go to the money tree and bring me the money that grew on it. They looked at me weird at first...but then I explained it and we all shared a good laugh. I was laughing because it reminded me of my family ...they laughed because I was laughing oddly and at my own joke.
Once we got to my house, we parted ways and I went to pack for my day in town. I was originally going to town the next day to discuss an upcoming HIV/STD outreach project at a festival in May, but I figure...if I could get a ride...why not go sooner. It beats getting up at 5am, walking a km in the dark to wait for a tranzit to pass the main road.
As I waited around for my ride to come (and watched my cats go crazy in the courtyard) my mood began to change. It was 2 o'clock, 2:30, 3 o'clock...and what had I done with the day? I felt so lazy. I hadn't study (which is what I really need to be focusing on these days, and I was leaving site. Shouldn't I be staying in site. Why was I heading for the hills...just because the electricity was out...this was Peace Corps after all...suck it up and light some candles. My thoughts were interrupted by a call from the moudir telling me he was on his way to pick me up at the main road. So I left, had a great ride down the mountain in a private vehicle. I even had my own seat belt (a rare occurrence in rural Moroccan transportation). We talked about the differences in language in culture between my mountain top and the town that is only 1/1.5 hrs away. We discussed how different words can show varying degrees of respect, and we discussed how he recently climbed the second highest mountain in Morocco, Jbel Imgoun (Mountain Imgoun). It is only a a6 hour hike from my site...however I had been called the wrong mountain Jbel Imgoun for the past eight months. Apparently, the real Jbel Imgoun cannot be seen from my site...you have to walk past the snow capped mountains you can see in my site and then climb the Massif Imgoun. My moudir did it in a day...i would love to attempt it too, but would need to go with some PCVs and proabably with one of the men in my site that knows the way.
Once we got to town, we parted ways (with my moudir headed on a few kms east to his home) and me heading to the cyber cafe to do a first round of checking mail. As I began to walk around town, trying to get some errands done...it set in again. I started to feel unproductive and uneasy. It helped that I ran into a fellow PCV in the cyber cafe and was headed to a PCVs site to spend the night...but the weather (cold, damp, and getting dark) did not contribute to my mood. When I got to the PCVs apartment, I realized that my plans for the meeting tomorrow were not as thought out as I would have liked. the meeting overlapped with a training event that I would have like to have gone to, but didn't know about. I was cold (much colder than I would have been if I was snuggled up in my house with my two cats as feet warmers (one of their many jobs) and I was starting to question how productive my meeting with the teachers really was. We couldn't do anything until February...that was a whole month wasted...what was I supposed to do until then? So I sat there...cold, tired, and wanted to hear a familiar voice from home...but not wanting to spend 100 durhams for a 10 minutes call. So I wallowed...luckily, my friend came home after working in the dar chabab t(the youth center that most youth development peace corps volunteers work at) and we had one of those talks...you know, the "you're not in this along...Peace Corps is tough culturally, physically, but most importantly mentally tough" talks and she helped me realize that's what so great and bad about the Peace Corps. You are pulled and stretched in so many ways, you experience so many feelings within one day, and you have tons and tons of time to think about all of these accomplishments, failures, lessons learned, opportunities missed....that one minute you're laughing and the next you want to cry and go home because "it's not worth being here". This is the time when I am most thankful for the PCVs in my area...because they help ground me and remind me I'm not crazy...I'm just a Peace Corps Volunteer, which is synonymous with being bipolar (believe it or not) and that's nothing to be ashamed of.
So..at the end of all this...was today a good day or a bad day. It was both...it was a typical day. Despite the regrets of not doing things sooner, not being able to communicate everything I wanted to say to the girls (especially when we were talking about the workings of US politics), and not being able to talk to my family at a drop of a dime....I remember my favorite vegetable guy, and the thrill that the bike repair man got when he lit my bike tube on fire and I jolted back, or when my moudir told me that "you may not speak Tashlaheit fluently, but your effort will take you a long way". it's the ups and the downs that make the experience. It makes me really happy (and a little scared) to know that I'll go through this another 540 more days (not that I'm counting)...but, hey, that's Peace Corps.
Sana Saidia! (Happy New Year!)
It’s a new year and it started with a bang! I rang it in with a
fabulous new years trek in Merzouga Morocco, probably the closest that
I will ever get to the Algerian border (without actually going to
Algeria). After arriving in the town of Erfoud, we took a four by four
vehicle out to the Erg Cherbi (Cherbi sand dune). Once we reached the
border of the dunes, we each got our own camel and took an exciting,
but slightly uncomfortable ride, out to our campsite.
After two hours of riding out on a camel, we slowly ascended the
dunes, leaving the land of rocky desert and moving into the land of
endless sand. We were surrounded by sand dunes (with the distant
mountains of Alergia in our view). It appeared that we were in an
endless desert of dunes.
When we arrived at our campsite, we were convinently located under the
tallest sand dune. How high was the dune? I don’t know, but it
took at least 45 minutes of hands in the sand crawling/mock-rock
climbing up a wall of continuously sliding sand. I am officially out
of shape, but climbing that sand dune was very empowering and made me
realize that I may be “Peace Corps out of shape”, but I’m still
walking/biking several kilometers each day. I could not have been happier to reach the top of the dune and be rewarded with two shoes full of sand and dozens of beetles (like the ones seen in the desert scenes from Aladdin)
After climbing the sand dune, we were all rewarded by watching the
sunset turn the desert into a melting pot of oranges and red. Later
that night, we ate a great Moroccan tajine and settled into a food
coma (accompanied by exhaustion from climbing the dunes) and ended the
nights with celebratory fireworks, viewed from around the campfire.
After a good night’s sleep (under, what seemed like, billions of
starts) we woke up to a Moroccan breakfest (including fresh olives and
apricot jam). We mozzied back to Merzouga via camels (we were not as
excited to mount the camels as we were the day before) and then said
our goodbyes.
It was a memorable beginning to the new year and couldn’t have thought
of a better way to start my first full year in Morocco. So…Bonne
Annee, Sana Saidia, and Happy New Years in all of the languages of
Morocco!
fabulous new years trek in Merzouga Morocco, probably the closest that
I will ever get to the Algerian border (without actually going to
Algeria). After arriving in the town of Erfoud, we took a four by four
vehicle out to the Erg Cherbi (Cherbi sand dune). Once we reached the
border of the dunes, we each got our own camel and took an exciting,
but slightly uncomfortable ride, out to our campsite.
After two hours of riding out on a camel, we slowly ascended the
dunes, leaving the land of rocky desert and moving into the land of
endless sand. We were surrounded by sand dunes (with the distant
mountains of Alergia in our view). It appeared that we were in an
endless desert of dunes.
When we arrived at our campsite, we were convinently located under the
tallest sand dune. How high was the dune? I don’t know, but it
took at least 45 minutes of hands in the sand crawling/mock-rock
climbing up a wall of continuously sliding sand. I am officially out
of shape, but climbing that sand dune was very empowering and made me
realize that I may be “Peace Corps out of shape”, but I’m still
walking/biking several kilometers each day. I could not have been happier to reach the top of the dune and be rewarded with two shoes full of sand and dozens of beetles (like the ones seen in the desert scenes from Aladdin)
After climbing the sand dune, we were all rewarded by watching the
sunset turn the desert into a melting pot of oranges and red. Later
that night, we ate a great Moroccan tajine and settled into a food
coma (accompanied by exhaustion from climbing the dunes) and ended the
nights with celebratory fireworks, viewed from around the campfire.
After a good night’s sleep (under, what seemed like, billions of
starts) we woke up to a Moroccan breakfest (including fresh olives and
apricot jam). We mozzied back to Merzouga via camels (we were not as
excited to mount the camels as we were the day before) and then said
our goodbyes.
It was a memorable beginning to the new year and couldn’t have thought
of a better way to start my first full year in Morocco. So…Bonne
Annee, Sana Saidia, and Happy New Years in all of the languages of
Morocco!
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