Best/Worst Day Ever

The best/worst day ever, I think, is a phenomenon not unique to Morocco, but I think much more common here. Today started out as just normal. Took a shower. Rode bike to Dar Chebab. Found kids already there, playing ping pong. The day was looking good.

Then, disaster. My moudir came in to watch our ping pong games and I noticed he was observing me in a weird way, almost guilty. I caught his eye, and he motioned me over with his hands. When I came over to him, he didn't look at me, but looked off into the distance and quickly mumbled that the Dar Chebab would be closing. I thought I misunderstood him, so he explained that the town has a new president who wants to close the Dar Chebab. He asked my moudir to hand in the key and stop working there. As he told me this, I almost started crying. I told him this was unacceptable and a huge problem. Just then his phone rang and he walked off to talk in private.

I stood there, feeling very powerless and returned to the ping pong game. The boy smiled at me and asked what we would be learning in English class in the afternoon. I almost starting crying again. When the moudir finally returned from his phone call, he told me that the Dar Chebab would remain open until next week, when his boss would return from the capital city. He didn't seem to have any emotional response to any of this. Just stating it matter-of-factly. So, I asked him what exactly he wanted to do. Work at Dar Chebab? Or work for the new president at his office? He said, Dar Chebab. And his reasons were only that he was adjusted to me and had participated in a training with me in Agadir last year. Not "I love youth!" or "This job is great!"

I left the Dar Chebab feeling very unsure of my future here in my town. So, I pedaled out to my host family's village to have lunch with them. We had a really bizarre lunch, too. A "mexican" salad that consisted of white rice, grated "meat log," mayonnaise, corn, ketchup, and grated cheese. It was gross, but delicious compared to the rest. There was a large frying pan with "meat" and olives. I told myself it was "meat" and pretended it was not lungs or intestines, but I almost gagged once. There were also egg plant wedges that had been baked, not fried, in oil. It was weird. It was good, however, to see them all and talk to them about the Dar Chebab.

I pedaled back into town for my afternoon English class. The first class went well and after class, I got a chance to meet with my group of boys and talk about the Dar Chebab. They aren't aware of the potential problem, but I made a point of showing the moudir the kids energy and dedication to Dar Chebab. Together, the kids and I made an entirely new schedule for the Dar Chebab. Here are the new activities:

Friends Club: a club for friends, American or Moroccan, to get together. Organize events at Dar Chebab.

Music Club: sit around, playing the drums and guitar. Learn lyrics to hip hop songs.

Art Club: draw comics. Possibly paint large world map mural on Dar Chebab's wall.

Sport Club: Every Sunday, play sports. Basketball, football, bike rides.

Library: Every morning, offer open hours at "library" in Dar Chebab. Free use of English books, magazines, newspapers, and games. Homework help.

This is of course, in addition, to the English lessons, ping pong, and Youth Cafe already taking place at Dar Chebab. Hopefully I can show the moudir or town president that Dar Chebab is actually of use to the community. I am meeting some boys tomorrow to help me create a schedule in Arabic.

So, the best day because of the great new schedule, but also distressing because of the potential bad news. Trying to stay positive here!

Going to Oz

Things are going pretty well with my six seventeen-year old boyfriends. This week was shorter because I'm going to Ouarzazate tomorrow, but we still got in a few good games of ping pong and an English class. Their newest idea is to create a music club at the Dar Chebab. I got way too excited and told them all about the drum, guitar, and keyboard the Dar Chebab has locked away in my moudir's office. When they asked if they could see them, I figured, why not? All the moudir needs to do is unlock one door and possibly open a cabinet. Well, even though he was actually present at the Dar Chebab, sitting on a chair alone, he had no desire to open up the door and so we walked away feeling dejected.

I think he's feeling a little bitter because just last week the boys accidentally broke a window to the brand-new remodeled classroom with the football. I wasn't there when it happened and neither was he and the boys didn't actually tell him about it until he asked them. They later told me which boy kicked the ball into the window, but none of them will fess up to the moudir. So, I think he is waiting them out...seeing who will pay for the broken window.

As they walked me home tonight, they were making plans for their "band" idea....feeding off of the AIDS music festival the other day. It didn't help that today the microphones and one boom box were still sitting out from Sunday. They brainstormed who would play drums, who would play guitar...etc. I was half-listening, so when they asked me if I could sing, they caught me off guard. I replied yes, to which they smiled and nodded at each other. I think we all have different ideas about what "music club" means...and that's okay.

Like I said, tomorrow I'm making my way to Ouarzazate for a few days. Oooh, and there is a solar eclipse tonight in Africa at midnight!

AIDS Festival

Yesterday I went to what was advertised as an AIDS Music Festival. The poster, translated to me by the event planner, had a picture of two young people playing guitars with red ribbons next to them. The poster did not give a time or place, but that's never a problem in Morocco.

Also, coinciding with the AIDS event was a marathon. I was told by my moudir to come to the Dar Chebab at nine am to see the beginning of the marathon. I knew better than to arrive promptly on time, so I showed up between nine thirty and ten. There was no trace of the marathon event, but I found many young people there setting up for the show. I saw a girl holding drumsticks, a few boys holding guitars, and I even saw one boy holding a gimbri. A gimbri is a three-stringed bass or lute that is used in Gnawa-style music. Gnawa music is unique to Morocco and is a mixture of African, Berber, and Arabic styles of music. Its similar to the Blues. Each June there is a world music festival of Gnawa in the city Essaouira and I plan on going this year.

Anyway, back to the AIDS event. It's important for you to know that I had no expectations whatsoever and also no estimated time of departure. This is the best way to enjoy any event in Morocco. If you don't expect to be entertained and don't expect to leave at a reasonable hour, then you will survive the event without wanting to rip your hair out.

Three of my students were already there when I arrived and had gotten seats for the show. I sat next to them and we waited. And waited. And, well you get the idea. Two and a half hours later, the show began. Now, for those of you who have ever seen an American youth band perform, this will not be difficult to explain to you. Take any American youth band between the ages of 13-20, take away any musical knowledge, take away any knowledge of sound system, and take away any knowledge of English language. Can you picture it?

For SIX HOURS, I sat straining to hear the lyrics, the tune, and anything resembling music. One group performed very well. It was a group of 13 year old girls who sang a traditional Moroccan song and were accompanied by a keyboard. Another group, from a nearby big city, must have been university students and played a few songs in English. At one point, I swore I recognized the tune but I couldn't place it ... until I heard the singer say, "Oh, where oh where can my baby be?..." Yes, that's right, do you remember Pearl Jam's Last Kiss?? I looked around the room...people were clapping their hands, smiling, and I knew I was the only one in that room who really knew what was going on.

So, like I said, six hours, but it's important to note that only eleven bands were present. So, lots of waiting around time. One time during the middle of the show, we waited half an hour while some people went looking around town for a certain wire. I passed time by daydreaming. My favorite daydream was the one where I would get up from my chair, grab the microphone, and belt out the Star-spangled Banner to the puzzled looks of my fellow Moroccan music-lovers. "gimme that.....OOOoooh, Say can you SEEEEEEE?????" In my mind, it was hilarious.

After five or so hours of music, the show finished and I thought, "yes, Freedom! Lunch! etc" But, the show was being judged by a panel of "judges" who officially stood up from their chairs and left the room to privately decide on the winners. I thought, great, this should take no time at all! It's obviously that group of thirteen year old girls who won! I should've known better. One hour later, the judges emerged from their chamber, but before they could announce the winner, they had to give a long speech about their ratings system and how points were given. Finally, the speech ended and the winners were announced. Yes, the thirteen year old girls won!

Then the event coordinator made an announcement about how there would be a "small party" in the afternoon to celebrate. As people started getting up from their chairs, I high-tailed it out of there and marched home. I got home around 3:30, ate a piece of bread with some cheese, and promptly fell asleep for two hours.

Oh, and the theme of the day: AIDS? Not ever mentioned during the event, but in the back of the room I did find a pile of brochures with a picture of a condom on them. Also, there was a poster with a picture of a Moroccan woman holding two babies, and reaching for a pack of birth-control pills, talking to a doctor. I was the only person in the room who wasn't embarrassed to be checking out the literature and I am illiterate!!

Recipe Corner in Jenny's Kuzina: Lesson 6

Lazy Soup

two potatoes, peeled
one carrot, peeled
one zucchini
one tomato, peeled
half or whole onion
2 garlic cloves
bouillon cube
cumin
salt
pepper

Boil all ingredients in 1 Liter water. When vegetables are soft, transfer to blender and blend. Delicious and Healthy.

Recipe Corner in Jenny's Kuzina: Lesson 5

Zucchini Smoothie

one zucchini
one flavored yogurt
splash of any flavor of juice

Blend. Drink. Enjoy.

I have a crush on every boy!*

*Line from a Strongbad comic, not mine.

I roll six deep at the Dar Chebab. My posse consists of me and six teenage boys. We hung out every day this week and I think we bonded. I got major bonus points for letting them borrow my soccer ball (although its not a real soccer ball and definitely not a substitute basketball as I learned when I suggested a game of pig. Just because it bounces, does not mean they will play with it.) I'm not sure who is more surprised by this friendship, them or me?

Already, I'm starting to have insecure thoughts like, what if they get bored of me and stop coming to Dar Chebab? But, I doubt that will happen. They seem to genuinely like hanging out with me and gobble up any activity I suggest. We made volcanoes, started a comic club, had English class, and played ping pong. Phew, what a week! Also, its so cute, but they walk me home to my house at night and aren't embarrassed at all to be seen with me. They are at that perfect age for Moroccan boys. Still young, but old enough to be fun to hang out with. But, not yet corrupted and moody. It seems as soon as boys hit puberty here, they get moody. As for girls, they hit puberty and get married shortly after.

Tonight we had Youth Cafe and started the comic club. I printed out some pictures from the internet of different drawings and they got to work right away, trying to copy them. Wow, some of them are really talented! Then, we watched The Chronicles of Narnia with Arabic subtitles. We had planned this movie night a week ago, but we didn't get started on time because my moudir showed up almost two hours late. As I predicted, we had a little technical difficulty hooking up my laptop to the projector. So, in the end, the boys and I watched the movie on my tiny laptop screen. As time passed, more and more boys showed up until it was me and fifteen boys crammed around this tiny laptop.

At that moment, I had the thought, I love my job! I get to hang out with these boys who are sweet enough to indulge me in my hope to "develop youth." Development work is a lot more difficult than I thought it would be. The thing most crucial to accomplish first before you can ever even begin to scheme up dreams of projects is gaining the trust of a group of people.

Trust. I knew that before coming here, but actually achieving that trust is an entirely different thing. Being a first-time volunteer doesn't make this any easier, either. My first year was completely dedicated to getting familiar with the community and getting the community familiar to the idea of having an American living amongst them. Also, knowing who to trust, who is serious about developing projects, who is just another bureaucratic phony, and who doesn't have ulterior motives. And I suppose while I was feeling them all out, they were doing the same to me.

These boys are young and excited and serious about working with me on projects and just the fact that I found them, or they found me, is a major accomplishment. But, for the first time since getting to my site, I feel like I may have a shot at starting up a sustainable project for youth. And that's pretty cool.

The Man with the Scythe

There has been a lot of talk lately in my town about the man with the scythe. And they don't mean the personification of death or the British heavy metal band. Over the past week I have been cautioned repeatedly against walking alone at night because of the man with the scythe. From what I've gathered, he's a bad man, a crazy man, a criminal, or escaped convict. He will hit you on the head with his scythe, he will chop your ear off, he will slice your throat, or he will just chop you. He will take your money, the gas from your motorcycle, or your cell phone. He only preys on people walking alone at night in empty spaces. He sometimes wears a scarf.

I don't doubt that this man (in some form) exists. But, I do not, however, believe everything I have heard. People are poor here and I don't imagine they walk around with tons of money in their pockets. For the same reason, people usually have little to no money on their cell phones and therefore, stealing the phone would be pointless. And even though this man has been carrying around a scythe for a week slitting people's throats, nobody has died. Sounds like the prelude to an urban myth.....

But....I just heard tonight that he was recently found and "taken" by the police. Humdullah.

Phase One: Complete

Total decontamination of bedroom was completed yesterday. This involved fumigation of room, fumigation of bedding, buying new bed, and washing all said items in boiling water. My room now feels a little less like a bedroom and a little more like camping.

As I was settling in for my first night of sleep on new miniature Jenny-sized bed, I heard the comforting sounds of a crazy man outside my window. He had set up camp across the street from my house and was yelling repeatedly, "Come on, get down!" "Get down" "Get down" and sometimes he'd throw in a "Salam 3alikum" which means hello. Then, he would throw a rock at the dumpster and hunker down near a wall. He kicked the wall a few times too. He finally staggered off after half an hour or so.

In other news, no bites from last night, so this decontamination thing may have worked.

In other news, attendance at Dar Chebab has gone up from zero to ten. I have a special group of boys now that play ping pong with me. I'm happy to report that I actually beat one of them yesterday. They play very competitively. We have a really slick arrangement, too. If ever they want to come to Dar Chebab and I'm not there, they just come to my house and get me. Now, I don't have to bother with all of that waiting around, alone, watching cats routine. They asked me if we could start a comic club, so that should be fun! (anybody who wants to send me a comic book, I'd appreciate it! Spiderman? What else is out there?)

Students from my beginners English class also returned yesterday. So, we held an impromptu class that went quite well. I told them from now on, we will only speak English in class, using Arabic only when clarification is needed. So, I taught them some helpful phrases like, "I don't understand" and "What does that mean?" The highlight of the class was when I acted like a robot, or "robo" in Arabic.

Today I will continue with Phase Two of Decontamination. Just to be safe, I am sanitizing my salon as well. I'm not taking any chances here. Then in the afternoon I have work at the Women's Center and the Dar Taliba (House of Girls).

Battle Against Bed Bugs

Round One:

Putting two and two together. Large bites all over body appearing in the morning + evidence of bugs on sheets = bed bugs. Now, I'm not embarrassed to admit that I have them. I keep a clean house. I figure I have spent the night in enough rundown roach-infested places in Morocco, that this should come as no surprise. But, still.....ick.

Round Two:

Scary internet research that confirmed presence of BBs. Scratching and reading all afternoon gave me a few good ideas of how to tackle this problem, for people living in the developed world, where there is such a thing as people who specialize in the profession of extermination. Not the case here. Internet research has led to inevitable paranoia.

Round Three:

Bleaching of entire bedding and floor. Investigating chipped paint on wall....chipped paint away with fingernail to find more chipped paint, but no BBs. Removal of mattress to roof. Talking on phone to mom. Before bed, tucking shirt into pants, pants into socks, wearing turtleneck and wrapping entire body in tiny fleece blanket. Sleeping in salon. Fretful sleep.

Round Four:

Waking up...will boil water now and annihilate any BBs and possible offspring. Then, off to store to buy new mattress and blanket. Plan to expunge entire house.

If you have any experience with BBs, please please please email me. please.

Volcanoes and Rain

Today brought new meaning to "dusty." The weather has been a little weird lately. This week there was one day that felt almost like August; I can't accurately describe this kind of heat, only that it really feels like the sun is shooting sunbeams directly onto my head. Then, the next day it was quite chilly, requiring a sweater. Then, today was about the windiest, dustiest day I've seen yet in my town. Everyone was walking around with their arms in front of their faces, shielding themselves from the dust. Others wrapped scarves around their faces, just like those stereotypical images of people from the Sahara. At one point, while stirring my macaroni noodles, I swore I heard somebody walking around on my roof (paranoia of living alone abroad?) but it was just giant pieces of trash being blown around (thank you, dentist for leaving your trash up there).

Now, its raining, kind of. I heard it pouring a minute ago and now nothing. I'm worried about the rabbits, out there, wet. But, they are animals and must learn survival skills. Actually, I am going to be giving my rabbits away. After much much consideration, I've decided its for the best. The last week I've put up with a stuffy nose and wheezing due to my allergies to their cute little fur. I managed to potty train them in a week, but not sure how that skill will transfer to life on the farm. Also, it became apparent today that "Fluffy Girl" is indeed a boy. And, appropriately, "Little Fella" a girl. I had my suspicions about the sex of Fluffy Girl, aka Chase. She was very very greedy with her food rations and was getting quite large. And honestly, her size was beginning to scare me a bit. I imagined her growing to equal me in size, forcing me to live on the outdoor balcony, moving in to my house, and her enormous rabbit eyes peering out the window, then throwing me a scraps of carrots and cilantro.

Aside from my imagination getting the best of me, I kept fairly busy this week planning lessons for Dar Chebab. After the training I attended last week, I was full of new ideas to try out. Friday, I put together probably the best lesson ever in my life. It involved internet research, photocopying, and scissors. By far, the most effort I've ever put into one lesson. I was so excited to teach, and then, what do you know, nobody showed up for class. Attendance has been so bad lately, and I think it stems from the African cup soccer games. Anyway, I was a little depressed Friday night, but this morning I decided I might as well try and plan something equally exciting for my Youth Cafe. I gathered all the ingredients necessary to make a papier mache volcano. This time, I had a good turnout and we built four volcanoes and had four lava explosions. The first eruption startled me a bit, because it actually shot up in the air at me, but the kids thought that was hilarious of course. Jenny, the clown. After ceremonially dumping the used volcanoes into a dumpster, we played cards.

Earlier today, I also prepared questions to ask the kids about the Dar Chebab. Questions about why attendance has been so poor, which activities they would like to see, and basically guilt them into attending regularly by sounding pathetic and lonely. It worked! They are very excited to start a drawing club and play basketball with me. (No worries, though, Moroccan kids are horrible at basketball! Fear of lay-ups will not actualize.)

Tonight I spent time perusing through itunes, because one of my students asked me for some "romantic music." My pleasure, Houcein.

GO BARACK!!

I just read that Barack Obama and Mitt Romney took the lead in the Minnesota caucus yesterday. It's about time people woke up and started participating in democracy. Being abroad during this time is really interesting. It's as if the whole world is watching the United States right now. Everybody, and I mean everybody, knows the names Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama here. My students here probably are asking more thoughtful questions about this election than high school kids back home. My host family wants to know my opinion about the candidates, how the election works, and who I will be voting for. Even the less-educated people know the names of the candidates. It's really amazing, but actually not too surprising. People allover the world are waiting and ready for a change.

Bunny Update

I have named them. The "girl" is named Fluffy Girl and the "boy" will be called Little Fella. Their nicknames will be "Chase" and "Dan" that way I can say funny things like "Dan sure poops a lot" or "Chase is bloated", etc, you get the idea. (For those of you who don't know, Chase and Dan are two fellow PC volunteers and good friends of mine)

Although Dan was my original favorite, I am beginning to really like Chase. At first, Dan seemed fearless and was the first to investigate new places and smells. Chase was really sick at first, with hardly enough energy to eat. But now she has a very healthy appetite and likes attention. Sometimes she overeats and is too lazy to move. Chase doesn't mind being held and Dan is too quick to catch. Mostly he sits alone in the corner, peeing.