Christopher Richards, this post is dedicated to you.

Dear Christopher Richards! I dedicate this post to you in order to thank you for your gift! Your gift made today so bright! Chris sent me a beautiful little day planner that's so helpful! You can see it in the picture below. 

Thank you all friends and family for being so kind to me! Thanks for not forgetting me!

Packages are like inexplicable boxes of utter happiness. :)

I also had a fantastic time this Christmas weekend, hanging out with friends. We used my really sad little Christmas tree for a white elephant gift giving game! I got a camel puzzle! Thanks Rachel! But basically, we just ran around all weekend on a shopping spree so that we could decorate our soon-to-be houses with useful  items. I even managed to lose and find my debit card all in the same weekend! So much fun. I'm actually more impressed that I stayed calm and didn't freak out as I would have in the states. It's enormously empowering moving to a foreign country. I am also becoming more accustomed to just being here in general. Every day is a little easier. I notice that I can exude calm occasionally, and for me, that is an entirely new characteristic.

I'm also going to start reading, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time. I love that satisfying feeling of finishing a book. Now, on to the next!

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time (Today Show Book Club #13) by Mark Haddon http://www.amazon.com/Curious-Incident-Night-Time-Today-Show/dp/0385512104

I lost my keys, oh wait, I didn’t, oh but they don't work in the door.

What a day.

My host mom asked me if I wanted to walk to one of the satellite towns. Of course I want to go! So off we went! On the way, there was a house with all of the stuff left by the PCV who I replaced. I wanted to stop by and check on the stuff he left me. So I opened the envelope he had left me that had two keys in it. I thought I dropped something but then thought nothing of it. I get to the door, open it, go to another locked door and realize I have only one key. I DID drop something! Egads! So I go searching out in this field for the key. Soon, I was aided by my PCV’s former neighbors, who were combing the ground. Thankfully, my thoughtful host mom asked me to look through the bags I was carrying. Lo and behold! It was in my bag!

So everything was hunky dory after that. I even found a Christmas tree! Total bonus! Thank you former PCV!!! Upon walking out, I got my key out to lock the door, and it wouldn’t lock. At all. My host mom was telling me, I was going to have to spend the night here in the satellite town until I could figure out the lock. I was bound and determined to make this door work! Work evil door, work! So the neighbor comes over to try to get the door to bend to my will. Then another neighbor joins, then another, until there’s at least 5 women standing around this door, trying to make the lock work. Finally, after a half an hour, the door’s lock budged and I was able to shut the door. (Such a group effort for such a simple task!)

Happily after that, we did make it to our final destination, which is a town very close to a castle (called a qasbah)! I will post a little video I took of the land around the castle soon on my facebook page.

After a quick visit to Qasbah town, I was off to my Dar Shebab to teach my students “Jingle Bells!” Happy Christmas everybody!

Look! The Christmas tree that could!

Hark! Is that a donkey I hear?

Hey all!

Amazing news! I found a house! I can't wait to put up pictures of before and after photos (that is, after I decorate...with what exactly, I don't know yet.) But anyhow, I'm going to live there in little under two weeks! Hoorah! I call it my early Christmas gift to myself. 

(As a complete aside-the power goes off often here, and every time it does, my host father goes, "Ooh la la!" and every time he does it, it makes me giggle and I have to work to stifle it.)

Also, it's Christmas time and I am more than prepared to start listening to all of my Christmas music that exists on my computer. I was listening to "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" and tears came to my eyes. I was briefly overwhelmed by that sudden, 'O my gosh, I'm in Morocco and why doesn't my house smell like pine and chex mix?, home sick feeling.' I suspect that I'll be a little weird on Christmas day. However! I have plans with some really lively people who are going to spend Christmas day with me. 

For those of you wondering what the cake is about, I still hang out with a baker who dotes on me. She asked if she could make me a Christmas cake. Therefore, you all, Happy Christmas! Let us celebrate the holiday joy wherever we are!

learning the Alphabet

Today I decided that I should put on my investigation glasses and go searching for an apartment myself. I did this because I was somewhat curious and somewhat wondering what the response to my question would be. I did this because I was somewhat curious and interested in what people I just talked to would say. Anyhow, I asked around and to my delight I got some answers and so tomorrow, I may see another apartment. I have to continually remind myself to be really patient with everything. My inner mantra is thrumming away to the lines of, "Everything is going to be okay."

I also decided today that since I speak a dialect of Arabic, maybe I should learn how to read it. . So, I took it upon myself to start copying things from my English-Darija workbook. Then after a session with my tutor, I found that I can vaguely muddle my way through words. I feel elated. I also feel like I have a new and fun superpower.

I wanted you to enjoy the fruits of my labor! This page says really fun things like, “Where is the post office?” and my personal favorite, “What is the name of the chief doctor at the hospital?”

As of late.

Hey guys,

Sorry I haven’t been writing too much. I’ve been preoccupied with being a smidgen sick with the world's best cold. I was even really thoughtful and gave it to my host mom. Poor thing. Thankfully, I feel as though I’m beginning to recoup and my host mom isn't as bad as I am, so we're going to make it. I even made it all the way to my Nedi Neswy (Women’s club) to tell them this fun fact: "hey I’m alive but sick. I’ll be back on Wednesday!" They took the news well, so all is good there.

I’ve found an apartment and I think I’ll make two years there without going insane. Hooray. The bathroom’s a bit small but I’m pretty sure I can install a shower in there. Things are looking up. When I move in, I really want to put up pictures of fun things. I'm also really looking forward to being able to control food intake a bit more. I'm glad i'm not starving, I'm just looking forward to cooking for myself in smaller portions. 

On another subject, I want you to enjoy pictures of henna! I got some really spectacular wedding henna done on me, courtesy of my old host family. 

A place of my own.

Finding a house in a small dusty town can be….in a word, overwhelming. It doesn’t help that I hate searching for a place to live anyways, but I needed to share this with you because obviously, dear reader, you care.

I was fortunate enough to spend the early hours of this morning invested in watching the television show “Dexter.” Trust me, it provides loads of entertainment for the slightly morose.  Anyhow, I decided today was a good day to go look for a house. I’m really glad I brought a book to the office where I went to try and search for a house because I was there for three hours. Thankfully though, no one let me down on actually finding a place!

After five minutes of walking around an apartment, I have decided I may just keep mine eyes peeled.  As much as I loathe looking for a house, it is rather exciting to see a brand new place and dreaming about whether or not I might decorate those barren walls. I’ve heard from other volunteers that some of the happiest times they have had have been when they first moved into their own house. I’m really excited that for the first time ever, I will have a place all my own.

I'm attempting to keep a log about what books I'm reading.

But mostly I'm doing this because it's of my own egocentric interest.
As of now, I'm reading Stephen King's, The Stand. Until I get better about managing my time, it may take me a while to get through it. Hoorah. I will definitely be adding the new books I'm reading and attempting to make a bigger list of what books that I have remembered reading.

In case you forgot what this big, thick book looks like, here you are:

The Stand: Expanded Edition: For the First Time Complete and Uncut (Signet) by Stephen King

Fun with food

I got tricked into eating stomach! ACH! I was eating couscous like it was all hunky dory and then the meat that sits in the middle of the great dish of grains was cut and a piece was handed to me. I cut a smaller piece, eyed it suspiciously and then just said, heck, I'll just eat it because I don't know what it is. Then I put it in my mouth. I give myself 100 points of awesome for swallowing it. Although, I did feel like an idiot because the reception that this poor Moroccan family who was so kind to invite me for dinner was watching me attempt to masticate this piece of stomach. But still! This time I didn't even run to the bathroom. Stomach may get easier to eat but the taste still hasn't left my mouth yet.

Anyhow, enough about that. I've recently had the good luck to make friends with the local baker. She invites me over to her shop during closing. Then she lets me help make the rest of the cookies she's currently making and hands me cookie after delicious cookie. Today I had a coconut macaroon that tasted like...well I don't know what it tasted like, something like crunchy happiness in sugary bread form? The slight downside of this interaction is that eventually I will become (the appropriate Arabic word here is: glida, don't you think that's the most appropriate word for fat?) more rubenesque by the time I leave Morocco. This is a serious food culture. Even when I came home after eating dinner with some really nice people, my host family was like, "WHAT? I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ATE! YOU WILL EAT SPAGHETTI NOW." (slightly exaggerated)

But they were cool with me making a weak attempt at me eating. Sometimes unspecified people (to protect those who have been kind enough to invite me over) rate me on how much I've eaten at meals. For instance, if I don't clear the food triangle designated for me (since usually we eat meals communally out of one plate) they tell me I haven't eaten well. So I have tried to come up with fun ways of counteracting this behavior. I like saying things like: "I have a small stomach. I will get a food baby. I will get sick if I eat more. I eat slowly because that's how I eat in America.(that one is a last ditch effort trying to get the people serving me not to notice if I'm scraping food into other triangles so I don't have to eat it all). 

Now I want you to take the time to notice that I don't look sickly or pale in this picture. I even feel slightly elated in this because my host fam just gave me this beautiful bag. Even my real dad said I didn't look too bad. Bssha people, bssha (to your health).

So I bought a modem. This modem allows me to have the internet at my fingertips! Oh the power! My need for internet is finally sated.

On a different note, I'd just like to say that while I write this, my host father is watching a television show from Egypt where this man is helping students by phone with their algebra homework. I am deeply amused.
But aside from that, I am a real Peace Corps Volunteer now! I'm sworn in and at my permanent site. Things are good. I have been in site for one full week and it has flown by.

I'm still figuring things out here in town and although it's small, I get turned around because there are still streets I don't know etc. I'm really fortunate that I found a tutor so fast. You can tell he loves to teach and hopefully within a few months I'll be able to say more exciting sentences than, "This is a wall." and "I like soup," and my personal favorite, "gosh it's cold."

My host family spoils me tons. Everyday my host mom wakes up and makes me french toast and coffee. I am sorely tempted to live my two years with them. I really like having a family that I can communicate decently with and that watch out for my safety. I'm really relieved that I've such an awesome host family. But alas, I should really move out on my own and grow up. I hope all is well with ya'll!

For your enjoyment, here's a picture of cookies I made with my first host family.

The blog after Eid Kbir.

WARNING: Don't eat or drink whilst reading this post. Secondly, if you have a weak stomach, don't read this post.




First of all, I totally failed at eating sheep stomach. I tried about one bite before the revulsion response took effect.  No one ever said I had a particularly hardy stomach. I therefore give myself the special adjective ‘burhusha’ (childish). My host mom is sitting here watching me type and I told her what all of this meant and she is laughing hysterically at my gastric weakness.  

Anyhow, so I have survived my first Eid Kbir. Henry the sheep was not so fortunate. While Henry did spend his nights in the hotel d’kitchen, he also banged the crap out of the stove, tried to ram as many people as he could and generally pawed the floor to smithereens.  So when the big day arrived, he was relocated to the roof. But more about Henry later.

Let’s describe how everything went down. The night before Eid Kbir, my family was so excited they could hardly contain themselves. The feeling was definitely akin to that of Christmas, and in fact, if I had to pick a Muslim celebration that gives you the same cozy feeling that Christmas does, it would probably be Eid Kbir (sans sheep slaughtering). The next day we got up at 7:30am so my host father and brother could go to the mosque and that the women could stay home and prepare breakfast. It was one of the more mighty breakfasts I have seen here. We had harira (soup) and cow butter (I didn’t know this was cause for a big deal), cake, cookies, and of course the ubiquitous bread and mint tea that a Moroccan meal must have. After my host father and brother returned we did indeed dine, and then dined more with the guests who come and visit.

So by the time that we had a chance to clean up breakfast and say hello to well-wishers and friends of the family, it was about 9:30 and Henry’s time drew nearer. In fact, about a half hour later the butcher showed up. I told my parents that I was scared of watching Henry get slaughtered. I like to think that I’m actually not scared, but I had happened to be on the roof looking at the exact wrong (or right?) moment to see about six other sheep getting slaughtered on other peoples’ roofs.  Therefore, Henry ended and the fun did begin. I came back on the roof a while later and Henry’s body was neatly tied to hang on the roof and his skin was on the other wall.  All the sweet meats and innards and head were on separate plates on the ground. Just as I was about to lose it, my friend (a PCT) walked by and thankfully she grabbed me from the roof and we had a nice chat and she invited me over later.

Not more than ten minutes after she left, another PCT came to my house and stole me to his house, only to see his host family’s goats being cleaned on their front porch. I was managing pretty well until I saw a maggot crawl out of a goat brain. I directly turned inside his house, drank a glass of tea and pretended it did not happen. But then I waited until I was breathing calmly again and then managed to go back to my house for lunch. Liver isn’t so bad. 

Here is sweet Henry. Good old boy. 

Here is a lovely photo of Henry's skin that he wasn't using anymore.

Sheep in the Kitchen.

11.14.2010

Happy birthday dear American father!

My host father just brought home the sheep for Eid Kbir. For now, it lives in the kitchen. All I can think right now is: this is how people get infectious diseases. (I must remind myself not to read anything about the plague or mad cow disease for the next week.) I can smell the barnyard smells. Num num.

I have a feeling Eid Kbir is going to be something I should worry about. I wish I was not one of those soft hearted people who cares about animals. I am the wrong kind of person in this country.  I am just waiting to come home so my host parents can ask me to photograph the slaughtering of the sheep in the kitchen. Goodnight mr. sheep, it’s been nice knowing you.

All I know is that I don’t think I’m going to be able to eat the brain or the stomach. 

I will put up pictures of the sheep I promise, but for now you will have to be satisfied with a picture of some camels that I took on the beach in Mehdia. (A city on the coast near Rabat).

The blog before Eid Kbir

11.13.2010

How do you compliment someone on their sheep? Yes, I did just spend the past 45 minutes talking about how great that sheep is going to taste in the next week. I have the pleasure of spending a few days eating tons of meat and having full days of family time this next week. Needless to say Eid Kbir (That’s Arabic for freaking huge holiday) is upon us. Why a sheep? Well, every Eid Kbir, every Muslim family buys a sheep and kills it for the giant feast. Eid Kbir is in remembrance of the story of Ishmael and Abraham (in the Christian tradition, that is Isaac, not Ishmael). 

Sadly the rest of this blog goes unfinished because I fell asleep. Don't worry though, I wrote more!

So for your enjoyment, here's a picture of our friend: Hmar  (that's Arabic for donkey) I have been told that when he makes noises, he's making the noise of Satan. Hooray folklore!

I will be putting up pictures of sheep later.

Every day is a new adventure.

Hey all, so I know I haven't been blogging alot, but I did blog on my computer and just save the days, so i'm going to make a few consecutive blogs. Enjoy!

I’m definitely learning more Arabic but I get frustrated at times. I am still really busy because I am still in training which thankfully fills up my time. I have a few anxieties about the future and I know it’s sort of useless to worry but I still want to list them because I think they’re valid.

a)      I am slightly concerned that once I am let off of this tightly scheduled training I’m going to be swimming in a world of, “holy cow-what-the-heck-am-I-doing-here?” mindframe.

b)      That I have been so spoiled by my sister who speaks decent English that I’ll freak out when I have to rely on my broken Darija.

c)       That I’ll lose motivation in the months ahead.

d)      That I’ll freak out the first moment I’m in my Dar Chebab (Youth center where those of us assigned to Youth Development will be working)

e)      That I will be in a huge city and be surrounded by lots and lots and lots and lots of people who won’t talk to the weird and poor foreigner.

f)       That I’ll be in a tiny city where everyone knows the smallest details of my existence.

I know you might think that some of these are silly but, I think I just needed to air my mind out a little. I can’t be studying Darija all the time. I am very very very thankful for this weekend because I actually was able to go explore Fes and see Morocco’s version of Fred Meyer.

First of all, Morocco’s Fred Meyer is called Marjhane and it’s the biggest single store I’ve seen since I have been here. I bought some eye-liner for my eyes so people will stop asking if I’m Moslem because I don’t wear makeup. I also bought some cheese so I could make tacos for my family. It turns out that I couldn’t correctly decipher the French packaging and ended up buying goulda, so we had goulda and chicken tacos. When I came home my host sister and mother and I handmade tortillas and then cooked up some chicken and beans with onions and spices. I was really pleased with the results and the family seemed to enjoy the food. I did have to explain that Mexican food is very popular in the states and that everyone eats it.

So that brings us up to now, where I am listening to music with my host sister after a long day of walking around the Medina in Fes. Let me tell you, walking through the medina is a trip. It’s literally thousands of people all shoving through these tiny alleyways where every nook and cranny is filled with a shop of some sort. My group and I even managed to see the oldest tannery in North Africa. It’s called the Dar dbagh and we were able to take a little tour.

The Impact of Coffee Talk

Right now, I’m having a difficult time writing this because my host brother keeps whispering to me, (shiwa, b shwia-which roughly translates to, little by little, and in this context, merely: slowly. He wants me to type slower because apparently I type very fast and it alarms him) 

It has occurred in my time in Morocco that I have been making some friends. For those of you who know me, this is absolutely no surprise and a benefit to me in a new country. This new friend, (who shall now be called Ahmed) brought a fellow PCT and I to his mother’s house for coffee. It is a) amazing how much of an impact coffee has on my demeanor (i.e., it dramatically improves my mood) and b) how much communication can happen in such a relaxed environment.

Ahmed poured us thick, extremely sugary cups of coffee and we spoke of cultural differences. To be honest, I’m still struggling with the cultural differences between Moroccans and Americans, but everyday seems to get a little easier. There’s a saying again: shwia b shwia, and I have made it my personal motto to help me remember to take things slowly. Ahmed, (who speaks almost perfect English) tells me that shwia b shwia, I am learning Moroccan Arabic. He is so kind to offer us coffee and conversation. He is very educated about religion and he wanted to know about American culture and religion. Thankfully I had time to learn about this topic in college and so we spoke about how he felt about Islam. He knew quite a lot about Islam and many other religions and he was not afraid to speak about any of them.

Many PCTs encounter Islam in their day to day lives. My host parents speak to me often about Islam, telling me that there is only one God, and never to drink, and so on and so forth. It has occurred with other PCTs I know that express their religious preference and they receive a strange face from their audience. I felt comfortable enough telling my family my own religious preference and they accepted it and kept teaching me about Islam. But back to Ahmed. He found it excellent that Moroccans were so receptive to anyone who comes into their country. He did want to know how religion worked in America. Could people of different religions intermarry, and if so, how does that work with their families? Are there trends of agnosticism and atheism in the states, and where? Is it common for people to say they have no religious preference? I really liked discussing these topics and he shared with us his personal views. Unfortunately, it is imperative that I keep his opinion protected since he did not give me permission to use his words. Therefore, I can tell you that he has visited other countries within Europe and experienced the religion, or paucity thereof. I can also tell you that it is so important to take the time to have coffee talk with people, because sometimes you can have a moment of cross cultural experience. I felt that this conversation really began to validate my experience so far in the Peace Corps. Inshallah, I shall have a friend so willing to share like this in my permanent site. 

Sorry it's been so long!

So, since apparently the post I attempted to write on Wednesday didn’t get posted, I shall write again!

Let’s give the quick and dirty of what’s been happening:

I’ve had my first marriage proposal.

I’ve gone to the public baths.

I’ve gotten montezumas curse on the morning that the water decided to stop running.

My dad woke me up at 6am to go running for 11k. That was new.

Learned to love oral rehydration salts.

Been to four weddings (it’s wedding season).

Become an accidental Muslim. (Let me explain, I was at a wedding and the women prostrated themselves to pray. One woman came up to me, grabbed my hand and started repeating sentences that contained waHd (one) Allah and mohammed. It quickly occurred to me that after I had repeated this three times that I had converted to Islam. Then once they saw I had understood everyone started laughing hysterically. hahah, the weird American girl is a Muslim, hahaha, look what she said! So then I told my teacher about the experience and she laughed and said, don't worry, you're not a Muslim unless you say it with intent.)

AND I have gone ONE WEEK without a bath. So today I begged my parents to let me have a bucket shower, and then once they realized that is all I wanted, they were very happy to comply. I now have clean hair! I felt like singing "Girls Just Want to Have Fun" the entire time. 

One more thing: My family also decided to get a modem at their house, so I downloaded Internet explorer 8 and Google Chrome onto their computer because they were using an old browser that would not support hotmail. Go geek power!

In other news:

So it’s been busy to say the least. I’m learning Darija and getting technical sessions from 8:30-6:00 from Monday through Saturday. I’m just super happy I have some time to make it to the cyber café.

I came home today and my mom is moaning in the corner. I’m pretty sure she’s sick, poor thing. Speaking of which, my parents are very VERY caring. They finally are letting me walk to and from school by myself. They were so worried that I would get lost for the first week and a half that I could not go anywhere by myself.  It has been interesting adapting to some of the social norms here. Not to say I can’t, I’m just…coping with all the major changes at the moment. But things are well, and i'm handling one disaster at a time moderately well so things are stable. 

Where am I?

I am finally in Africa. A bunch of the PCTs (Peace Corps Trainees) went for a walk on the beach today and it was incredibly surreal. The mere fact that I was walking around in Africa, in Morocco no less seemed like a dream. I suppose I have come to terms with this and have moved on to accepting this surreal reality as something that exists.

Anyhow, while I was taking a shower this evening, I heard quite a hullabaloo downstairs. So I quickly clothed and went downstairs to check out the noise. The teachers who are going to teach our group Darija (Moroccan Arabic) and tamazight (a Berber dialect) had all gathered around a man playing the oud in the Salon. There were quite a few other PCTs who came down to listen to the music. I felt like I wanted to sing with their songs and understand what they were singing. So I asked to sit down next to one of the teachers and she explained to me quietly what the songs were about. Eventually she had me dancing a new dance and sort of humming and bobbing along with the rest of the musicians/vocalists/teachers. Everyone was drumming on the table, dancing, gesturing, and singing. How ridiculously blessed am I? Almost all the other PCTs are asleep now, but I felt that I needed to be around the music. After all, I can't speak Darija yet, but music is something I can understand.

Someone hijacked my sleep.

So, it's 5:46am my time, which my computer tells me is 2:55am Pacific time and I am wide awake. VERY awake. After getting sick of tossing and turning I waved the white flag. Now I'm sitting in the bathroom so as not to disturb my roommate. Wait, roommate? What roommate? Ah yes, I didn't tell you.

Yesterday, I took my flight from Seattle to Philadelphia. Thank goodness that this girl approached me and asked my final destination, and lo and behold she too was going to Morocco for Peace Corps. After an uneventful flight, my friend and I made the choice of attempting to get to the hotel we had our reservations at. My initial ineptitude made getting a shuttle difficult on account of I had totally forgotten what street the hotel was on. The poor transportation man looked at me like I was some sort of strange alien, and I don't blame him much because I sort of am.

Thankfully we made it to the hotel where the entire third floor is full of Peace Corps trainees who came running with open arms to the new arrivals and invited us to dinner. After a bunch of appetizers and discussion topics such as, "why are you here, what drew you to the Peace Corps, and where have you traveled to?" we finally decided it had been a long traveling day and we should settle down.

Which leads me to now: In a bathroom at 6:03am. Hooray early mornings!

It begins.

I have been thinking for many weeks that I wanted to create a blog that would fulfill a few goals. These are the goals I have thought of so far.

Goal A: to not fill these windows with uninterrupted and stifling navel-gazing. 

Goal B: to keep everyone interested in my travels, thoughts, and doings updated.

Goal C: to actually update this blog on a somewhat regular basis. 

Goal D: to promote some self-reflection on my actions during my volunteer service for Peace Corps Morocco, which will be useful in understanding myself and my teaching methods.

Goal E: to promote a written culture exchange/ help understand culture, both American and Moroccan. 

 I have been putting off making a blog because I could not think of a proper title until now...and even the one I have chosen now may or may not stay. Oh, self-hood, you fickle thing you. 

So here's the meat of this entry: 

I leave September 12th for Philadelphia. I do an intense safety/paperwork/welcome to the Peace Corps- here are your 65 new Peace Corps coworkers-seminar for two days. 

I fly out to Morocco on the 14th where I'll be in Rabat for a few days, then the whole group breaks into small groups and get sent out all over the country for small group training for three months. During training we will go through intensive language and technical training for 6 days a week and live with a host family. Provided trainees can make it through the training (9/10 do) we get sworn in on November 24th and go to our permanent site and new host family on November 25th, marking the beginning of our two year service. 

That in, brief, is how my life will look for the next couple of months. That's it for now, on to more language learning!

And here's your daily Latin quote from the Douay-Rheims Bible: 

"Patientia autem opus perfectum habeat ut sitis perfecti et integri in nullo deficientes."

"And patience hath a perfect work: that you may be perfect and entire, failing in nothing." James 1:4