100 New Chairs

Let me describe to you a “normal” day at the Dar Chebab. After my usual hearty breakfast of bread (what else is there?) I leave my house “late,” sometimes as late as ten minutes past 10:00. But, no worries, I am usually the first to arrive to work in the morning. So, I take a seat outside and wait. After a while, Mounir the Moudir rolls in on his wheels, a bike that is. He gets the chairs out of his office, we arrange them facing toward the patch of weeds and dirt and begin the process of watching the hoses. You might be asking yourself, what exactly does it mean to watch the hoses? Well, let me explain this experience as best as I can. Apparently, this aforesaid patch of weeds is in constant need of watering, along with a few budding small trees. We spend a great deal of time arranging and rearranging the placement of the hoses. And sometimes we may even drink tea while we watch the hoses.

Last Saturday, while engaged in the hose process, a very large dump truck backed into the Dar Chebab. Without delay, it unloaded two massive piles of sand and drove off. I thought to myself, could there really be that great of a need for sand here? Previously, I had cursed the sand surplus and now feared the Dar Chebab might be attempting some kind of trendy beach theme in the courtyard. The weekend passed, and when I returned to the Dar Chebab on Tuesday morning (my weekends fall on Sunday and Monday because those are the days the Dar Chebab is closed) I was stunned by what I found inside the gates. The piles of sand had vanished and in its place was a new concrete courtyard. Things were definitely beginning to look up.

The next day, as we sat, we watched more changes begin to unfold. The Moudir hired a group of young men to rake up the patch of weeds and place painted rocks around the small trees. During these days, we turned the hoses off, and watched the men work instead. After observing their work for a while, we would all take a tea break together.

Then, two days ago another large truck arrived, this time overloaded with stacks and stacks of chairs. The hired help unloaded the 100 new chairs for the Dar Chebab. I have to admit, I was getting a little nervous by the excess of all those chairs. How many youth were they expecting to come to the Dar Chebab? Well, my friends, I soon found out.

Yesterday I organized a language test at the Dar Chebab for any youth interested in taking English classes with me. As a youth developer, I can use English classes as a way of attracting youth to the Dar Chebab, and afterwards, begin programs that are of interest to them. I had visited the schools and the Moudir had advertised in the classrooms, but I had no idea how many youth would show up on test day. Coincidentally, come test day there were students lined up inside and outside the Dar Chebab, waiting to take the test with me.

I gave 125 oral English exams.

And today I gave fifteen additional exams. So, that means that 140 youth want to learn English from me. Wow. I will have one class of beginners, four intermediate classes, and one advanced class. Oh, and I will also be teaching one class for adults in the community. So, my plate is full, and well, pretty much overflowing with work here.

Today my Moudir said to me (in Darija of course, so after three or four attempts I was able to get the gist of what he was saying to me) that before I came, he didn’t know what a volunteer was. He didn’t know what the Peace Corps was or why it would send a volunteer to his town. He said he was worried before because he didn’t know what he would do with the volunteer once they arrived. But, now after I arrived, he is the happiest Moudir in all of Morocco because he has the best volunteer. I love my Moudir.

December 9, 2006