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.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
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!
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
December 25 and 26
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…
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…
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!
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