Monday, June 18, 2012
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Since I last posted, I have moved into my apartment and now have my own address in a country that is not America. I have a post office box and a Moroccan identity card. As you all know, this is my dream, or for the Paulo Coehlo lovers, my “personal legend.” Everything I have done in my life has lead me to this moment, in my apartment, alone, listening to the some of my favorite music, and attempting to capture my current situation in words. As I told a friend yesterday, everything starts to seem so normal that I find I have nothing to share. Then I remember that I was yet again woken last night by a braying donkey, and that sometimes I have to really think to remember the last day I took a shower. I am then reminded that for 34 years, I did not live my life this way. It was yesterday, by the way.
So while I have been blessed with this amazing life, I of course have frequent moments where I long to see all of your faces. My homesickness has become pervasive this week, starting with my attempt to write a toast for a wedding of close and dear friends. It revisited me when I received sad news from a friend at home, and then returned when another friend told me about new found love. My homesickness is magnified by the fact that tomorrow is Father’s Day, and I am sure that my parents, sisters, cousins, aunt, uncle, nephews, brother-in-law, and grandparents, will be sharing some of the day together. Note to self: Don’t listen to the Fray when feeling homesick.
On a happier note: A few weeks ago I was elected to serve on the Gender and Development Committee for Peace Corps Morocco. I have never “ran” for anything, so I was excited to be elected. When I gave my speech for election, I very much felt like a nervous 6th grader and told people that if they didn’t vote for me, I would never have the confidence to run for anything again . . . so apparently guilt tripping works in campaigning. Anyway, being fairly new to this, I don’t have too much to say about my role yet. I will attend quarterly meetings in Rabat to meet with other committee members and discuss these issues in relation to our role as Peace Corps volunteers, and how we may address these issues with youth in Morocco. On a selfish note, that means I get to learn more about gender roles in developing countries and have a beer in Rabat at least 3 times a year.
This past week, I sat in on a women’s literacy class. There are several very cool things I would like to mention about this class: 1. Girls in high school are the teachers. 2. Women of all ages attend.
3. WOMEN ARE LEARNING TO READ. All of us that can read (that would be all of you that are reading this right now) know what a gift it is. Only 58% of Moroccan men and women can read.
I also got to watch the same group, again taught by the high school girls, learn about AIDS. These opportunities are exactly why I wanted to be here.
I will not start to teach formal English classes until late September. Otherwise, I am getting acquainted with people in my community and spending time with kids at the Dar Chabab. This week I may be able accompany them to a neighboring community as they perform an AIDS prevention play.
Pictures of my apartment and community will be posted soon! Please don’t be disconcerted by my sad paragraph, it comes with the territory.
So while I have been blessed with this amazing life, I of course have frequent moments where I long to see all of your faces. My homesickness has become pervasive this week, starting with my attempt to write a toast for a wedding of close and dear friends. It revisited me when I received sad news from a friend at home, and then returned when another friend told me about new found love. My homesickness is magnified by the fact that tomorrow is Father’s Day, and I am sure that my parents, sisters, cousins, aunt, uncle, nephews, brother-in-law, and grandparents, will be sharing some of the day together. Note to self: Don’t listen to the Fray when feeling homesick.
On a happier note: A few weeks ago I was elected to serve on the Gender and Development Committee for Peace Corps Morocco. I have never “ran” for anything, so I was excited to be elected. When I gave my speech for election, I very much felt like a nervous 6th grader and told people that if they didn’t vote for me, I would never have the confidence to run for anything again . . . so apparently guilt tripping works in campaigning. Anyway, being fairly new to this, I don’t have too much to say about my role yet. I will attend quarterly meetings in Rabat to meet with other committee members and discuss these issues in relation to our role as Peace Corps volunteers, and how we may address these issues with youth in Morocco. On a selfish note, that means I get to learn more about gender roles in developing countries and have a beer in Rabat at least 3 times a year.
This past week, I sat in on a women’s literacy class. There are several very cool things I would like to mention about this class: 1. Girls in high school are the teachers. 2. Women of all ages attend.
3. WOMEN ARE LEARNING TO READ. All of us that can read (that would be all of you that are reading this right now) know what a gift it is. Only 58% of Moroccan men and women can read.
I also got to watch the same group, again taught by the high school girls, learn about AIDS. These opportunities are exactly why I wanted to be here.
I will not start to teach formal English classes until late September. Otherwise, I am getting acquainted with people in my community and spending time with kids at the Dar Chabab. This week I may be able accompany them to a neighboring community as they perform an AIDS prevention play.
Pictures of my apartment and community will be posted soon! Please don’t be disconcerted by my sad paragraph, it comes with the territory.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Since I discussed my bathroom experience and cussed in my last blog, I guess I am getting more comfortable with this forum. I do, however, promise to keep that kind of talk to a minimum for the sake of more sensitive readers.
Today I rode a camel. As expected, it was bumpy, smelly, and funny. I would highly recommend this activity if you need a good laugh, but make sure it is not at the camel’s expense. I didn’t get any of my own pictures because I didn’t have my camera. It is likely that I will ride a camel again so I will try to capture this moving experience on film next time. I also ate kaskrut (afternoon snack) at a very lovely home that had a pool, a lawnmower, trimmed hedges, and a western toilet next to a bedae. I generally do not get to rub shoulders with the wealthy class in Morocco, so this was somewhat of a shock to my sensibilities. I enjoyed it so much I thought about leaving the Peace Corps, becoming an investment banker, and buying a shiny house. But then I remembered that I probably smelled a little like a camel so I probably will not be hired for any fancy job. So, back to weekly bathing and stuttering through the day with my broken language.
I am now living in a community called Massa, south of Agadir on the coast. It is a 1-2 hour walk to the beach and there are tree goats, camels, and palm trees. It is beautiful and well, a little shocking to the senses. I have never seen landscape like this. I am going to be working at a Dar Chebab, an activity center for youth in the area. The sky is the limit with this work, as I can teach English, apply for grants, form clubs, connect youth with scholarship programs, etc. It all depends on resources and community needs. The other volunteer at this site has been working very hard and obviously has made an impact. She will be leaving in the end of July and the youth here are sad to see her go. I can only hope that they may feel a little bit of that when I leave in 2 years.
Since arriving in Morocco, I have been blessed to stay with 2 different families. One, that I mentioned before, lives in my former community and I hope to return to visit them next year. The family I am staying with now has had 6 previous volunteers and they are very in tune with American customs. Both families have been very gracious and patient with me. My Arabic language skills are improving, and I am trying to pick up a few extra words every day in Tashelhit, the Berber dialect from this region. I am moving in with the other volunteer in 2 weeks and will be able to have a little more independence, but I will have to cook my own food like a big kid again.
Some experiences that stand out for me since arriving in Morocco: entering a mosque with a host family member, riding in a cab with 2 goats in the back, asking my host sister if I can put the watermelon in the television, going to a waterfall with my host family, days so cold that I put off going to the bathroom, eating Thanksgiving-like meals on a regular basis at 11:00pm, meeting wonderful Moroccans and Americans, and getting caught up in a Turkish Soap Opera. And I still have 2 years to add to that list . . .
Saturday, May 26, 2012
After a long journey, I was sworn in as an official volunteer for the United States Peace Corps on May 23, 2012. Surprisingly, I did not shed any tears. Most of my friends and family are familiar with this journey, but if not, here is a recap. Please feel free to skip over the boring parts.
When I graduated college, I wanted to join the Peace Corps but found a way to get around the daunting 27 month committment by going to Peru for 10 weeks. While I enjoyed my time in Peru, I still found my thoughts returning to the Peace Corps when I returned home. So, 10 years ago, I applied to the Peace Corps and was nominated for service in the South Pacific which I ultimately turned down because I didn't feel it was the right time, and to be honest, was in the beginning of a serious relationship. Since I didn't pursue life in the South Pacific, I continued to have many day dreams about the Peace Corps, and went to Thailand for a short volunteer stint hoping that would satisfy me. As you can see, that didn't work. I went to Morocco for 2 weeks in December 2010, again hoping my thirst for travel and international exchange would be satisfied.
When I was in Morocco that winter, I met a former Peace Corps Volunteer who spoke to me about his experience. I almost didn't want to speak to him about this because I knew in the back of my mind what I had to do. In the Chicago airport on the way back home, I saw a Peace Corps poster with the copy, "Never have to say I should have." Shit. I turned in my application on January 14, 2011.
Now I am sitting on a seddari (couch) in a community south of Agadir, Morocco. I am surrounded by flies, and I am so happy to be here.
Strangely, when I was in Rabat the first time, I was having a pensive moment looking out the window of a bus at a tramway that was under construction. I remember thinking "I wish I could see that when it is done." I did and it is beautiful.
When I graduated college, I wanted to join the Peace Corps but found a way to get around the daunting 27 month committment by going to Peru for 10 weeks. While I enjoyed my time in Peru, I still found my thoughts returning to the Peace Corps when I returned home. So, 10 years ago, I applied to the Peace Corps and was nominated for service in the South Pacific which I ultimately turned down because I didn't feel it was the right time, and to be honest, was in the beginning of a serious relationship. Since I didn't pursue life in the South Pacific, I continued to have many day dreams about the Peace Corps, and went to Thailand for a short volunteer stint hoping that would satisfy me. As you can see, that didn't work. I went to Morocco for 2 weeks in December 2010, again hoping my thirst for travel and international exchange would be satisfied.
When I was in Morocco that winter, I met a former Peace Corps Volunteer who spoke to me about his experience. I almost didn't want to speak to him about this because I knew in the back of my mind what I had to do. In the Chicago airport on the way back home, I saw a Peace Corps poster with the copy, "Never have to say I should have." Shit. I turned in my application on January 14, 2011.
Now I am sitting on a seddari (couch) in a community south of Agadir, Morocco. I am surrounded by flies, and I am so happy to be here.
Strangely, when I was in Rabat the first time, I was having a pensive moment looking out the window of a bus at a tramway that was under construction. I remember thinking "I wish I could see that when it is done." I did and it is beautiful.
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