Jenny in Morocco

...the rest of the story

2009-08-26T20:29:00.001-07:00

Well, I'm back in America for good and readjusting quite nicely. For any of you still interested in following my life stateside, check out my new blog at www.bentleymazouz.blogspot.com. It's still under construction, but the goal is to keep all my friends and family around the world up to speed on my newest endeavor. And I'm not alone on this one....

Rabat

2009-02-13T07:59:00.000-08:00

Sorry to all of you have been checking my blog! I have been meaning to update for a long time. To catch you all up to speed, I finished my Peace Corps service November 26. I had one job interview at the American Language Center, then went home to Minnesota for a month. I had a wonderful time home, relaxing and enjoying time with my family and friends. Then, the first week of January I came back to Morocco, but this time instead of my Peace Corps village, I found a new home in Rabat.

My first day back I got a job offer from the American Language Center and started teaching English part-time there. A few days later and my sister Megan arrived for a month-long stay. We had some bad luck with illness and constant rain, but we had a good time in Rabat and managed to take a quick side-trip to Barcelona for a week. Check out Megan's flickr site for pictures of our trip: www.flickr.com/photos/mjbentley While Megan was here, I found a second job teaching English and started part-time there as well.

Today I was offered a full-time teaching position at the American Language Center starting next term. The term now will end March 22. Currently, I'm working there Sundays and the other place part-time throughout the week. I'm so happy to have found a full-time job!

I'm thinking about moving to an apartment that is closer to the city center. Right now, my place is about a 30 minute walk to the ALC and it'd be easier to live closer. I've paid rent at this apartment through the end of March, so if I do move it won't be until then.

In other news, I'm adjusting to living alone again. I got used to having Megan around for so long! And, living in a new place can be a little lonely at first, especially in a big city. I'm trying to make some new friends. But luckily, my friends from home Jackie and Jana will be arriving here in two weeks! I'm really excited that I have two friends visiting at the same time!

From now on, I'm going to try and update more often!

See you Tuesday!

2008-11-28T10:06:00.000-08:00

I'm coming home early! I'm flying into MSP at 10:38 pm Tuesday night! See you there!

I'm a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer!

2008-11-26T07:04:00.000-08:00

That's it! I can't believe it, but I am no longer a Peace Corps volunteer. This morning we had a nice closing ceremony at the Peace Corps office and officially signed out. Check out the new pictures on flickr.

Dar Chebab Party

2008-11-15T14:13:00.000-08:00

Four pizzas, three bottles of pop, one chocolate cake, and I'm pooped! Tonight I had a small party for my dar chebab boys at my house. I made pizza and the boys ate, danced, and played games. It was mostly just laughing and having a good time, but at the end a few of them got a little teary-eyed when we said our goodbyes. I'm really going to miss those boys. They were fun to work with and became my good friends. I'm pretty tired now and a little sad, so I won't write much more, but check out the new photos on flickr.

We Are the Ones We've Been Waiting For

2008-11-09T04:03:00.004-08:00

I first heard reference to this speech the day I graduated from the University of Minnesota. Our commencement speaker was Peggy Flanagan, the first Native-American woman to serve as director on the Minneapolis Board of Education. Also, one of the youngest to serve. As a member of the White Earth Band of Ojibwe, Peggy quoted the words of the Hopi tribe Elders saying that my graduating class, my generation, are the ones we've been waiting for. Then, three years later I heard Barack Obama make reference to this speech during his campaign for presidency. I find the words of these elders inspirational and true.

A Hopi Elder Speaks: “We Are the Ones We've Been Waiting For”

You have been telling the people that this is the Eleventh Hour.
Now you must go back and tell the people that this is The Hour.
And there are things to be considered:

Where are you living?
What are you doing?
What are your relationships?
Are you in right relation?
Where is your water?
Know your garden.
It is time to speak your Truth.
Create your community.
Be good to each other.
And do not look outside yourself for the leader.

This could be a good time!
There is a river flowing now very fast. It is so great and swift that there are those who will be afraid. They will try to hold on to the shore. They will feel they are being torn apart, and they will suffer greatly.
Know the river has its destination. The elders say we must let go of the shore, push off into the middle of the river, keep our eyes open, and our heads above the water. See who is in there with you and celebrate.

At this time in history, we are to take nothing personally. Least of all, ourselves. For the moment that we do, our spiritual growth and journey comes to a halt.

The time of the lone wolf is over. Gather yourselves!
Banish the word struggle from your attitude and your vocabulary.

All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration.
We are the ones we've been waiting for.

—The Elders Oraibi
Arizona Hopi Nation

November Rain

2008-11-01T04:24:00.001-07:00

October's gone already and with November came the rain. Morocco has been experiencing heavy rains the past month in all regions, except dusty little insert-name-of-town-here. It's rained so much that trees, people, cars, houses, gardens, and entire villages have been swept away. I'd noticed a lot of airplane traffic the past few weeks but hadn't really thought about it until one of my students told me that all flights going north had been rerouted south because of the weather. After waiting through a month filled with dusty winds, finally last night we got rain, too. It's still coming down strong today and everybody in my town is smiling and happy the crops will be healthy this year.

I have absolutely no intention of going out there today. Because it hardly ever rains here, the town doesn't need to worry about drainage but when it does rain, giant puddles form on all the streets. There is a really gigantic, deep puddle across the street from my house that is impossible to avoid when going out, so I'll just stay inside instead.

Yesterday I received from very good news. My replacement called to introduce herself and let me know she'll be visiting on Monday for one week. My first reaction was a happy one. I told her host family that she was coming and told the kids at the dar chebab. But, with time, the worrying set in. The little things that annoy me about my site started to pile up and suddenly everything seemed horrible and I started to wonder how anybody could be happy in a dump like this. But, those were all irrational, crazy thoughts that have now passed and I'm back to feeling excited. The host family is very excited to meet her. She'll be staying with my very good friend Kabira and her family.

I can't believe that it was two years ago that I made the journey from the training site to my town for my first visit. I had no idea where my town was or how to get there and somehow I got in a taxi, paid 5 times the amount I should have, and after a eye-opening ride through what I thought was the middle of nowhere, I got dropped off on the side of the road of a little town and the taxi sped off, leaving me standing there alone. Standing alone in the street, I took a deep breath and walked across the street to the closest store and asked the men there in my broken Arabic "Where is the Dar Chebab?"

Well, I've come a long way since that day, thank god. Now, after building a life here over the past two years, I have to figure out some way of disassembling it. I'm starting to realize that it's really over and I'll be honest, it's a little scary. But, unlike the day I arrived, this time I have an entire community supporting me and my departure.

I'll try posting more often over the next few weeks, but I can't guarantee much. Meanwhile, I think today I'll just enjoy the rain and curl up in my blanket and stay warm.

Eid Mubarak

2008-10-01T12:24:00.000-07:00

Happy Eid to Everyone! Today was the big day celebrating the end of Ramadan and the beginning of a new month! I'm so happy this month is over! I can't wait to get back into my normal routine here.

Here is how I spent that last two days:

Last night people starting talking that Ramadan might be Wednesday, or Thursday, but probably Wednesday, depending on the moon, of course. So, I asked around and nobody was entirely sure but I decided to pedal out to my host family's village and wait with them for the announcement. Basically, somebody (and it's different for every country) watches the sky until they see the first sliver of the crescent moon. Last night while watching a national Ramadan program they I actually could understand,because they spoke Darija, called "Go Until you Come" (Or was it "Come Until you Go?") the show was briefly interrupted with a flashy sign announcing the end of the month. Yea!

Then, I took a hammam (turkish bath) with Soukaina and she scrubbed my back. No matter how long I sit there, scrubbing my body with basically the equivalent of a brillo pad, I never can get the same results as Moroccan women. I mean, layers and layers of skin are peeled off their bodies and I'm lucky if I can get a few flakes to fall away. Also, no matter what I do there, I never can spend more than half an hour inside the steam house, but these women spend hours inside. They always say to me, "You sure finished quickly! Just half an hour!"

After the hammam I went to bed to rest up for the big day. This morning, at 7 am, Nadia's mom barged into the room and yelled "Come on, wake up!" but we ignored her until about 8:30 when family started arriving. I could hear her talking about me on the other side of the door saying "Jenny's here, but she's still sleeping!" So, I got myself up to join the others for breakfast and sat down at the table to the smell of a steaming ..... meat tajine. Mmmmmm, nothing like an oily hunk of meat washed down with a mouthful of bread! Normally, Moroccans celebrate the first breakfast with breads, sweets, dates, figs, and of course, tea. I'm not sure while my family went the meat route, but I was hungry, so I ate it. Then, six hours later when we gathered for lunch I got to eat my second meat tajine of the day! I was worried about what dinner might have in store for us, but luckily my friend in town sent me a text message asking me to visit her family.

So, I rode back into town (with about five pounds of pomegranates on my back) and stopped by Kabira's house. We watched "Just Married" and then went for a spin on her moped. Her moped was "sick" for a long time and somehow she fixed it today. We rode all over town, waving and greeting people with "mabarak lawasheer" which means "Happy Holiday!" And then returned to her house. I decided it was time to get myself back home where nobody forces me to eat large quantities of meat so I said goodbye and hopped on my bike to ride home. And promptly fell in a giant hole, pomegranates landing on my head. I guess my personal mantra of "home home home home home" blinded me from the road block, but no worries, I just brushed the dirt off and continued on.

Now, I'm home, high on a sugar buzz from the tea and looking forward to having a normal day tomorrow!

Description of United States Peace Corps Service

2008-09-28T09:38:00.001-07:00

I had to write up this description of service to send to Peace Corps headquarters and I thought I'd share it with you all. It summarizes my experience quite well, but I had to edit it a little for the blog, taking out any information indicating the location of my town. It might be a little dry too, but it's supposed to be, its a government document!

After a competitive application process stressing applicant’s skills, adaptability and willingness to immerse in another culture and language, cross-cultural sensitivity, and the desire to serve underprivileged communities, Jennifer Bentley began Peace Corps training on September 9th, 2006 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. She then completed the eleven week training program: one week in Rabat at the Chellah Hotel and ten weeks in the community-based training (CBT) site of Boulmane. During this time, Jennifer lived with a Moroccan family in order to experience Moroccan culture and family life first-hand, as well as to immerse herself in the language. Ms. Bentley joined other trainees at the training seminar site in Immouzer, where they participated in cross-cultural and technical sessions organized by Peace Corps staff. During the training period, the following was accomplished:

CROSS CULTURAL

TRAINING

Study of Arab and Islamic values and traditions with an emphasis on Moroccan history and culture. (14 hours of formal training sessions plus an additional 35 days of cross-cultural experience during a “home stay” with a Moroccan family.)

TECHNICAL

TRAINING

General introduction to participatory community analysis and development methodologies and the Moroccan Education System through lectures, hands-on activities stressing language, teaching methods and techniques and youth development activities, including girls education (59 hours of formal training). As part of the Community Based Training experience, practice taught, planned and organized youth-related activities in a youth center (97 hours).

LANGUAGE

TRAINING

General introduction to and intensive study of the Moroccan Arabic dialect (Darija), including reading, writing and speaking, (160 formal hours). Additionally, many informal hours practicing language skills with host family and applying language tasks in a Moroccan community context.

HEALTH

AND

PERSONAL

SAFETY TRAINING

Health care in Morocco; first aid and safety; preventive medicine and nutrition. Safety and Security including both formal sessions and competencies integrated into Language and Cross Culture training (40 formal hours of training plus additional time during language and cross culture classes).

At the completion of pre-service training, Jennifer was tested by a certified LPI tester and at that time was rated as Intermediate-Low in spoken Darija. She was sworn-in with Peace Corps on November 25th, 2005 and served as a Youth Development Volunteer for the Moroccan Ministry in Charge of Youth and Sport. Her primary assignment was in a Youth Center in ???, Morocco. She arrived in her site and lived with a host family there for two months.

During Jennifer Bentley’s volunteer service her main responsibilities included:

PRIMARY DUTIES

As a Youth Developer based at the Youth Center in ???, Jennifer initiated projects aimed at creating and enhancing developmental assets among youth and adults, including both young women and men. Jennifer’s main projects included:

English Language Instruction: Jennifer taught English as a Foreign Language to beginner, intermediate, advanced and adult students at the Youth Center. Jennifer designed a curriculum that used English language instruction as a forum to teach other developmental topics and skills including tolerance, environmental responsibility, gender equality, self-esteem, nutrition, and career planning.

Girls’ and Women’s Education and Empowerment: Through weekly gatherings involving English classes and discussions centered on cultural-exchange, Jennifer emphasized self-awareness, self-esteem, decision-making skills, and education and career planning for female students at the Women’s Center and Girls’ Boarding Home. Jennifer taught weekly aerobics classes to women and girls at the Youth Center. With her encouragement, the women organized the activity into an independent club under the direction of the women.

Children’s Education and Development: Jennifer led weekly activities based on cognitive skills, motor skills, health, social and emotional development as well as some English.

Boys’ Education and Empowerment: Through weekly gatherings involving English classes and activities centered on empowerment, Jennifer stressed the importance of self-awareness, self-esteem, decision-making skills, and education and career planning for male students at the Dar Chebab and Boys’ Boarding Home.

Intercultural Exchange: Jennifer fostered dialogue between Moroccan and American students through the exchange of letters as part of the World Wise Schools program.

Moroccan Ministry of Youth and Sport English Language Camps

Jennifer collaborated with the Moroccan Ministry of Youth and Sport at the regional and national levels at English Language Camps. Her roles included:

Coordination of Spring Language Camp: As PCV coordinator of the 2008 Spring Language Camp for 120 students in the El Jadida region, Jennifer and a Moroccan counterpart organized activities, established rules, and addressed campers’ concerns. Jennifer acted as a liaison between PCV and Moroccan staff.

Teaching at Language Camps: Jennifer taught English, art, science, and other developmental topics and skills to students at several national Language Camps.

SECONDARY DUTIES

In addition to these duties, Jennifer Bentley worked closely with PC/Morocco staff on several PC/Morocco initiatives, including:

YD Pre-Service Training (PST): In collaboration with another PCV, Jennifer conducted the community assessment portion of PST for incoming YD PCVs in 2007. Jennifer designed and led 2 participatory training sessions, addressing topics and skills such as community entry and assessment.

YD In-Service Training (IST): Jennifer presented, with the assistance of another PCV, a participatory training session focusing on active-listening skills for mid-service YD PCVs in 2008.

Volunteer Support Network (VSN): After participating in a training session emphasizing peer counseling skills, Jennifer became an official member in the Volunteer Support Network. Once elected as representative to her YD 2006 staging group, Jennifer served on the VSN Council. As part of her duties in the Council, she successfully planned and led three training sessions for 18 newly sworn-in volunteers from 2007-2008.

Jennifer successfully integrated into her community, allowing her to gain the respect of Directors of Youth and Women’s Centers, as well as counterparts in the Ministry of Youth and Sport. Through her diligence, hard work and perseverance, Ms. Bentley has helped the Youth Development program make improvements as well as brought to her local community sustainable projects and ideas, allowing for the growth and development of the community with whom she worked.

Jennifer Bentley successfully completed her service with the Peace Corps in Morocco on November 26, 2008. She will fulfill the final Peace Corps goal by sharing Morocco with Americans upon her return to the United States.

Two Cockroaches on my Head...and other experiences

2008-09-18T12:18:00.000-07:00

Well, I was delusional to believe I solved the cockroach problem last month. Apparently, insecticide cannot compete with Mother Nature. I'm still without water and I believe this is the root of the cockroach problem. Last night was the last straw (I always say that) and today I began a major cleaning campaign in my house.

Last night I was drifting off to sleep and dreaming this recurring dream I have here where I am confused about where I am and if I am alone or with people. I hate this dream. I always wake up searching with my hands for a person. Let's not psychoanalyze this one too much... Anyway, last night while searching with my hands, I grazed an insect crawling toward my face. I jumped out of "bed" (a thin mat on the floor) and grabbed my sandal, found and killed a large spider. I have never seen this spider before. It had long legs, of varying sizes and was very springy. Then, I heard a rustling sound on the other side of the room and after investigating, found a large cockroach desperately attempting to find a way out of the room. I killed that one as well.

This incident follows a more disturbing one that occurred just last week. Here is a rundown of that evening:

1. 9:30 pm: Resting on ponj (mattress that acts as couch), talking with Abdslam on phone, when I feel a cockroach crawling on my head. Scream, want to die, etc, kill the cockroach. For the rest of the evening wonder why cockroach walked on my head. Am disturbed.

2. 2:30 am: sleeping on "bed" when I hear someone pounding on my door downstairs. Sweating, I hear a man yelling in Arabic "Where is the American woman? Where is the white girl? Is this her door? Is this it?" Peek out window to find man with towel on his face, spitting a lot. (he was high on some chemicals) Half an hour passes with him pounding on my door and then three other men join him and try to coax him away from my door. One man convinces him to go somewhere with him on his motorcycle. They leave. I am scared. (at the time it didn't occur to me to call the gendarmes, but I was in that frozen, make-no-sudden-movements mode)

3. 5:00 am: sleeping again on "bed" when I hear and feel something crawling near my face. I jump out of bed, turn on the lights and see nothing. Then, I hear some rustling sounds coming from INSIDE my pillow. I beat the pillow with my sandal, fearing a mouse will come out, instead just another big cockroach scurries out. I kill it.

So, whatever, I guess I just have to deal with the fact that I must share my house with cockroaches. I have a feeling that as soon as the water comes back on, this problem will solve itself. Inshallah.

In other news, we passed the midway mark of Ramadan. Only half a month left of fasting! I'm not fasting this year, but that doesn't mean that I'm still not incredibly bored. I lead a training session this past weekend on active-listening skills, so that got me out of my house and active for a while. The group was really great and I enjoyed meeting new people and talking about the People magazine my grandparents sent me.

I passed my two-year mark September 12 while at the training. Two years in Morocco. I can hardly believe my service is coming to an end. The next two months I will spend saying my goodbyes and preparing for my replacement's transition into my community. It's weird to think that he or she is here now in Morocco, training for service in my town. November 26 is the official day for my closing of service.

Jenny the Cockroach Slayer

2008-08-22T01:48:00.000-07:00

I know you're all expecting a major update and today I'm going to do my best at writing one for you all.

So, where do I start with everything? I think the last time I posted it was when my parents visited. So after they left, I went back home to my town for a few days, got ready for camp, and traveled back north. I worked at the El Jadida English Immersion camp for one month. I enjoyed going to the beach every day, hanging out with cool Moroccan kids who are trying to learn English, and trying not to eat too much ice cream or hot doughnuts on the beach. The first camp I worked as the camp librarian, checking books and games out to kids. I really had a great time in the library and became good friends with some of the girls who regularly came. The second camp I taught beginners English and had a fun, energetic class that kept me on my toes. It was nice to be around Americans again, but also some of them drive me crazy with complaining and laziness, so I was happy when camp was over.

After camp, I met Abdslam and his brother in Rabat and traveled with them to their family's house. His family is so nice and I had a fun time hanging out with them. I brought some games along like Phase 10, Uno, and Old Maid, so we played a lot of games. We took a few side trips and explored the countryside. We drove out to this mountain where legend has it treasures were buried long ago. They say you need to know magic in order to dig up the treasures. We walked out to a natural fish pond on the side of a mountain. They also say that if you come to this place on a Friday you might catch a glimpse of a big fish with white hair! We also took a trip to Errachidia where it was 112 degrees. We also saw the small town of Rich and drove out to the family's small village where they have another house. The road to the village was not so much a road as a series of obstacles we had to drive through and around. After turning off the main road, we crossed a small river, navigated through a forest, and somehow ended up next to this old ruined kasbah, which their house is right next to. The view there was amazing - on one side of the house you have the kasbah and the other is an expansive mountain. After spending a day at the village, we went back to town and soon after, I made my way back to Rabat.

Going to Rabat I became very excited for my Close of Service conference. Arriving, it was so cool to see all the volunteers I came to Morocco with two years ago. Some of them I hadn't seen in a long time! We talked a lot about our experience during Peace Corps, how to cope with finishing our service, and what to expect after Peace Corps. There were some times during the conference that I felt out of touch with the other volunteers, and other times when I felt the same as the others. It's funny- Peace Corps is such a personal experience and is hard even among other volunteers to talk about it.

After a great time in Rabat, that included another trip to TGIFridays, I made the long travel back south to my house. I found my house wasn't in too bad of shape after being gone for a month and a half. Only a thin layer of dust and surprise, surprise, no water! The last week I've been at the mercy of the pipes. Sometimes the pipes are generous and give out the water, other times the pipes hoard it to themselves and leave me thirsty and unbathed for days. Today, the latter of two is true. Also, with the drying of the pipes, cockroaches and ants have been spilling out of the faucets in place of the water.

One day I encountered a flying cockroach, two cockroaches in the bathroom, and one in the kitchen all within the same five minutes. That's when I decided enough was enough, and bought some bug-killing spray. Two nights ago, I attacked the pipes under the kitchen sink and what scurried out was disturbing, but I was prepared with a house slipper in one hand and a broom in the other. A colony, or family, of cockroaches ranging from the biggest of the bunch to teeny tiny little babies, fled from their nest in the pipes and met their deaths that night. Since then, I am happy to report that I haven't caught wind of a single cockroach. But, I have a sinking feeling that this spray is just a temporary fix and that a new batch will replace the old soon. Also, today there has been an influx in the ant population. While squatting over my turkish toilet this morning, I saw the most unusual sight. A giant dead spider was being pushed through a hole in the faucet by an army of ants. Maybe these ants aren't so bad to have around. But, as I sit writing this, I have flicked five ants off my arms and legs....so, maybe not...

Luckily for me, and for the other smaller and greedier tenants of my house, I'll be traveling again today. I'm off to the north to visit an old host family and heading back to Abdslam's house for my second Moroccan wedding. This time, I will not be publicly embarrassed! Or be forced to overeat! Almost two years have passed since my first Moroccan wedding and knowing the language is always a plus.

Stinky and thirsty,
Jenny

Check out my new pics!

2008-08-17T02:27:00.000-07:00

Done with camp, traveling, and conferences for the moment. Relaxing, reading, eating frozen grapes, and keeping cool for now. I think I'll do some more traveling before the end of the month, but I haven't decided where yet. I realize I have a lot of updating to do, but for now I don't have the energy or creativity required! I will post soon with all the latest news!

Hope you're all enjoying summer!

Hi and Bye

2008-06-28T12:11:00.000-07:00

Hello Everyone!

Well, the Griswolds came and went and the past two days I've been busy getting myself ready for summer camp. I'll leave tomorrow morning at 5:30 am inchallah. Packing was trickier this year because I'm not only packing for a month of camp, but I'm packing for a Moroccan wedding, a week in the Sahara, and a week in Rabat. Camp packing includes summer clothes I don't get to wear in my site, like tank tops. I also am lugging along a suitcase full of balls, games, and other odds and ends for the kids. After camp I'm attending a fellow PCV's wedding. He met his Moroccan wife at the summer camp two years ago and now they're getting married. His family is coming over from America and it should be a fun wedding. After the wedding, I'm heading out to one area of the country I have yet to visit: the southeast. I want to do a camel trek before I leave Morocco. Then, I'll head to Rabat for a week of what we call the "close of service conference." All the volunteers who I met two years ago in Philadelphia will gather again to talk about our experiences here and prepare ourselves for finishing our service. Then, back to my site and Ramadan will begin. This will be my THIRD Ramadan in country.

So, back to other things I need to catch you all up on...

The Griswold vacation was a blast and I had such a fun time showing mom and dad around the country. The best part was parading them around my town. We did a lot of that. Parading to the Dar Chebab, parading to the souk, parading to the farm, parading to the village. We also did a lot of eating at family and friend's homes, which made my job as hostess a breeze! They'd be so stuffed so full of food I never had to make them dinner! But, they did keep me busy with their errand requests of bananas, bottled water, and toilet paper. As I don't have a tv, dad found another way to keep himself entertained. People-watching. He'd sit on my balcony and gawk at the people passing by and their various modes of transportation and they'd gawk back.

Mom and I got a few good laughs while in Marrakech. Dad bought a big wide-brimmed hat to wear because it was so hot and when he put it on we instantly thought he looked like "the man in the yellow hat" from Curious George. Funnier yet, just as we pulled out to take a picture of dad with his hat, holding his bananas, a big gust of wind picked up and swept his hat off his head and sent him running. He chased his hat as mom and I laughed and Moroccans stared.

While I think Marrakech was dad's favorite city because of its county fair-like atmosphere, I think mom preferred Essaouira. I was proud of mom for drinking the orange juice in every city we visited. Dad, on the other hand, had a strange and strict diet he made himself follow. No glasses. He'd drink directly out of the bottle or can. No ice. No orange juice. But he allowed himself limitless bananas and bread, lots and lots of bread.

In Rabat mom and dad impressed me their partying skills. They kept up just fine with us younger folk and provided endless entertainment and conversation. Rabat was a fun time for me because I got to see my friends and I'm not gonna lie, going to TGIFriday was the best dining experience of the year for me (excluding the time I ate real American food in America of course).

Today was probably around 115 degrees, give or take. It was HOT. Maybe the hottest day of my life. I'm not sure. I feels hotter than last year, but was it just the same and I just forgot how miserable it is? Anyway, today was hot and as an added bonus, the water stopped working. So, luckily I finished all my laundry and showering this morning. If I could I would leave now. I just want to get out of here! With the heat, came plenty of ants and cockroaches and some weird insect bites all over my body. I ate two popsicles today. I ate one and enjoyed it so much and went right back out and bought a second one. So, I guess tonight I will clean up my house a little, hope the water comes back, and pray the electricity doesn't go out.

I'm not sure how often I'll be checking my email or updating my blog for the next month and a half, but I will try and send you updates as much as I can! I'm going to coordinate with mom and dad to get some pictures of their trip online. Have a great summer and Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad!

Guest Post from Mom

2008-06-27T01:10:00.000-07:00

I am writing a guest blog to share my thoughts and impressions of Morocco. Brian and I visited Jenny for 2 weeks from June 10 – 23, 2008. We had a great trip and I will remember it for quite some time. Let me just say that from the moment we arrived until we left, Jenny took care of our every need. Her knowledge of the Arabic language and speaking it fluently was a never ending source of amazement to us. She was the best tour guide we could have hoped for. From arranging transportation in a petite taxi, grand taxi, train, horse and buggy; to reserving hotels and riads which are beautiful homes set around an open garden courtyard; to choosing restaurants of which some were local, traditional Moroccan foods and others, more American like Pizza Hut, McDonalds, and TGIFridays; to finding local sightseeing spots in each city; to bargaining and haggling with the street vendors in the souqs; Jenny did it all and she did it well. I may be biased, but I would like to add that Jenny has accomplished so much as a Peace Corps volunteer. She is a young woman who figured out how to navigate in a country where women are viewed much differently than men. Her work in youth development is really outstanding. It took a lot of perseverance to be the first PCV in her town and to start a youth program from the ground up. We are so proud of you.

We spent 4 days in Jenny’s town experiencing her life as a Peace Corps volunteer. We were invited to have lunch at the homes of 3 different families. It was like eating Thanksgiving dinner 3 days in a row. At each home we were seated in the salon after removing our shoes. Moroccans serve their tea in high style in a silver teapot along with a tray of nuts and dates before the meal. Eventually a kettle of hot water was brought to us and poured over our hands over a silver basin. Then the meal was brought out to a knee-high round table around which we were seated. The food was served in the center of the table for all to eat from. Each home served a piping hot tajine with vegetables and meat (yummy!). We tore off pieces of bread to scoop up the hot food with your fingers. Next, we were served a large tray of couscous with meat. Along with the couscous, a bowl of buttermilk was consumed (not so yummy!). And to top it all off, we ate Moroccan-grown fresh fruit (watermelon, honeydew melon, apples, bananas, grapes, peaches, oranges) for dessert. We were encouraged to eat more than we possibly could. Two of these families were the host family to Jenny. It was great to meet them and express our thanks for being her family in Morocco.

While we were in Jenny’s town, we went to the Dar Chebab to see her work and meet the boys. They are a good group of boys who come to the Dar Chebab to learn English and do fun activities. We played ping pong, Connect Four, Jenga, Old Maids, and put together a jigsaw puzzle with them. It was clear to us that these boys like and respect Jenny very much.

In the second week of our Moroccan adventure we did some sightseeing and traveled to Marrakesh, Essaouira, Rabat, and Casablanca. Each town or city had a wall surrounding the oldest part of the medina and something different to offer. Marrakesh was a hot, chaotic, lively city with a population of 970,000. The focal point of Marrakesh was the Djemaa el-Fna, a huge square in the medina complete with snake charmers, juice stands, story tellers, musicians, monkeys, and boxing matches. Brian loved this and likened it to the Steele County Fair multiplied by 1 million. In the evening this square comes alive with rows of open-air food stalls selling anything from seafood to shish kabobs. The souqs were nearby selling many local crafts. We wandered through the maze of shops and vendors looking at the slippers, rugs, metal works, leather shops, pottery, textiles, jewelry, fruits, vegetables, chickens, meat, nuts, spices, etc.

Essaouira was a picturesque Atlantic coastal town with a population of 45,000. I loved this charming town with its cool ocean breezes, whitewashed houses, stone ramparts, and fishing boats. The pace of life was much calmer and serene. We enjoyed our stay in a beautiful riad complete with breakfast served on the rooftop each morning. One day we walked along the beach watching the wind surfers and para sailers. One evening we watched the sunset over the Atlantic Ocean perched atop the stone ramparts wall.

Rabat was a large modern city with a population of 1.4 million. It is the capital of Morocco and home to many government buildings, museums, and monuments. The office of Peace Corps is also located in Rabat. Although it was a large city it had more of a relaxed atmosphere than Marrakesh. It was in Rabat at the train station that we ran into Dan, a Peace Corps Volunteer friend and his sister Becca, who was visiting from the USA. We met two other PCV’s Jeff and Lindsey. We also met Abdslam, a friend of Jenny’s. They met working at a spring camp. Abdslam is a student studying at the university in Rabat. This was very exciting for Brian and me. We had someone new to talk to that could speak English! We had a fun time getting to know everyone at a local spot called I Palatino where we had some drinks. One evening for dinner, Jenny wanted to go to a newly opened restaurant, you may have heard of it – TGIFriday. We treated Jenny and her friends, Abdslam, Dan, and Becca to dinner. We did some sightseeing in Rabat too. We visited the Kasbah Des Oudaias, a fort or citadel situated high on a hill overlooking the Atlantic. One day we saw the Chellah, a site of ancient Roman ruins. Next, we went to the Le Tour Hassan & Mausoleum of Mohammed V. The Hassan tower is Rabat’s most famous landmark towering above everything. On the same site is the Mausoleum where Kings Mohammed V and Hassan II are laid to rest. It is beautifully decorated in the traditional Moroccan style with elaborate zellij (tile work) from floor to ceiling. Another favorite day of mine in Morocco was the day we went to the beach. Abdslam helped arrange to have a taxi driver take us to the Temara Plage (golden sand beach) which was 13 K south of Rabat. We rented a beach umbrella and beach mats and spent an afternoon laying in the African sun and swimming in the Atlantic Ocean.

Our last city to visit was Casablanca with a population of 3.8 million. We spent only 1 day here before returning home. Jenny requested a hotel room with a TV and a bathtub, both rare in Moroccan hotels/riads. So we visited 1 point of interest in Casa, the Hassan II Mosque and spent the rest of the time in our hotel room doing some much needed rest and relaxation. The Hassan II Mosque is the world’s third largest mosque. At a cost of more than half a billion dollars, it is amazing. The mosque is partly erected on the water of the Atlantic. The minaret is the highest in the world at 210 meters. The inside is beautiful with marble floors and lots of granite. It has colorful zellij and stucco molding. The vast prayer hall is large enough to hold 25,000 worshippers. Outdoors can hold another 80,000 people. It fills up during Ramadan according to our tour guide. It is one of the very few Islamic religious buildings open to non-Muslims.

So this was the end of our Moroccan adventure. It’s hard to put into words everything we saw and experienced. We saw many social and economic contrasts in this country. The very rich and the very poor. Traveling on a city street we saw old cars, expensive cars, thousands of mopeds, and an equal number of donkey carts, and bicycles all during a single taxi ride. We saw women and men dressed in a variety of clothing. Women wearing the very traditional jellabas with full head coverings with only the eyes showing to very much American-like clothing. We saw very nice homes similar to those you would see in San Diego and we saw slums and everything in between. We heard the call to prayer. An unforgettable sound. Five times a day Muslims are called to come to the mosque to pray. The Moroccans place much emphasis on the family unit with many extended families living together in the same home. They take care of each other and share their possessions. I will take away with me the memories of the people in Jenny’s town. Their kindness and generosity shown to us was amazing.

Ssalamu ‘lekum,

(Peace be upon you)

Pat Bentley

Daylight Savings Time

2008-06-07T01:33:00.001-07:00

Last Sunday Morocco switched over to Daylight Savings Time in an attempt to conserve energy, and as I expected, it's been a slow and chaotic change. Peace Corps was good about sending out both emails and text messages reminding us volunteers to move our clocks ahead. According to one of the many emails I received from Peace Corps, this is not the first time Morocco has attempted Daylight Savings Time. The last time was twenty years ago.

Twenty years is a long time and I can understand how people might find this change complicated or unnatural. Imagine if you were 25 years old and the last time you experienced Daylight Savings Time, you were five years old. But, excluding young people, you'd think the older folks would remember and try to adopt the time change.

Instead, what's happened here is slightly insane and very very confusing. I call it the "new time" "old time" paradox. Official places like schools, government buildings, the airport, and cities have changed over to the "new time." Everyone else, including my town, have stayed with the "old time." Well, everyone except for me and the mayor's office, the post office, and the schools. And the schools are closed now, so I'm pretty sure the kids are functioning on "old time."

The first morning of "new time" I walked outside my house at 9 am to find all the stores closed. My friend Kabira was just arriving to open up the bakery downstairs. I asked her, "What time is it?" to which she responded, "8 am." And then we got in an argument about Daylight Savings Time. I guess we were both right. I told her it was 9 o'clock, she was convinced it was 8 o'clock. I told her the entire country was changing their watches and she told me that only the airport would change over. I asked her how people were supposed to make their flights on time if everyone else was living an hour behind the airport. Her answer: she doesn't know anybody who travels by plane.

That day I left for a weekend on the beach, where I forgot about the "new time" "old time" paradox. I bought a new cell phone on Monday and when I got back home, I charged it up and started using it. Somehow I got confused and went back to the "old time" for a few hours that day. I'm back to "new time" and probably the only person in town who finds this whole thing amusing. Ask a person for the time nowadays and they will respond with the following, "Oh, it's 6 pm old time, 7 pm new time."

The problem with all this, is that time doesn't really matter here. Especially now that school is over and it is summer. Time is dispensable here and as an American, that is a strange idea to wrap your brain around. Luckily, my work is winding down for the summer and I now have no reason to ever mind the time. But, don't worry mom and dad, I will be at the airport on Tuesday at the correct time! Only three days!

Booooooring

2008-05-31T06:17:00.000-07:00

Not too many new posts lately and if I could think of anything interesting to write about, I would post it. But, things have been very sloooow lately and a little boring. Just doing the routine. Go to Dar Chebab. Play ping pong. Go home. Usually, I'd be content with the slow pace of things, but I think knowing that my parents are going to be here soon is making me a little stir crazy.

So, tomorrow I'm going to the beach. Going to get some sun and eat a cheeseburger. Maybe even a milkshake. My friends Chase and Dan are both entertaining family from home, so we're all going to meet up tomorrow night. I'm really looking forward to meeting their families. It'll be nice to have a little American time, too.

Well, I gotta get back to the kitchen. I'm making some chili and it smells like the bomb. I hope it tastes as good as it smells!

Response to Comment

2008-05-21T01:47:00.000-07:00

The following comment was made on my blog and I'd like to respond to it:

"why should anyone who smokes, drinks and brings women home, with the women's consent of course, why should he be a bad man? Harassing you is another matter, but smoking, drinking, womanizing..
Also, why this language? I thought only American generals and politicians used to label people good and bad. People are seldom all good and all bad.
Are you sure you are grown up enough to be a peace corps volunteer?"

First of all, yes, I am grown up enough to be a Peace Corps volunteer. Secondly, I want to make clear my circumstances here. I am a woman living alone in a Muslim country. If you have any idea what Muslim societies can be like, you would understand that it is not easy for me. In Muslim culture, smoking, drinking and womanizing is "haram" or forbidden. So, it is totally appropriate and not at all judgmental of me to label men who participate in those activities "bad." Another reason for simplifying things into categories of "good" and "bad" is because the Darija dialect of Arabic is simpler and has fewer words than English used to describe things. Things are either "good" or "bad." There's only "beautiful" and "ugly." You're either "hungry" or you're "full." Sometimes when writing this blog, I am translating things from Arabic into English and some of the meaning might get lost along the way.

And believe me, I realize people are seldom all good and bad. I see this contradiction every day here. There are people who pray five times a day here. There are people who never pray. There are people who drink. There are people who smoke. There are people who steal. There are people who respect their parents. There are people so kind and generous it could make your heart break. If there's one thing I have learned during my time in the Peace Corps, it is that there are contradictions everywhere, but this is a part of life. Once you accept these contradictions, you can see and appreciate the human experience of life. Life can be so varied and diverse on earth and I am thankful I was given this opportunity to open my eyes to the rich diversity of life.

Oopsies! I have a blog!

2008-05-15T01:49:00.000-07:00

Sorry to all my loyal readers! I haven't been very attentive to your blogging needs. If it makes you feel any better, not much is going on anyway. After the English Olympiad, I did some traveling, got my nose checked out, caught up with some old Peace Corps friends, and now it's back to regular life.

I started Operation Humidity this week here at home. I've been having bloody noses for the past month, and that along with not being able to breath through my nose, got me a trip to Rabat to get my nose checked out. The diagnosis: allergies. I don't know if I quite agree with that. I've never heard of allergies giving people bloody noses. But, thanks to my mom's great idea, I've been feeling better lately. Her idea: boil water in my kitchen. So, every day, I fill up a pot of water and let it boil down, filling the air with a little moisture. And, I've noticed a small difference in my nose already.

So, other than boiling water and going to Dar Chebab, not too much is going on. I'm still doing my exercise regime every morning. I think I've lost some weight, but I'm not sure because my scale is broken. I got a sweet package in the mail yesterday from Sara which included both a lemon poppyseed cake mix and fudge brownie mix.

Let me rant for a second about the dentist next door. Just now he sprayed the hallway with his air freshener that reeks. He does this only about twenty times a day. And I'm almost positive that he sprays it into my open windows. Do I smell that bad? It's soooo obnoxious! One day I went out and told him I hated the air freshener and what did he do? He laughed at me and sprayed it directly at me. I was not pleased. I just have to keep reminding myself that this living situation is only temporary and that his mental disorder is probably permanent.

Today I'm going to organize my house a bit. Squeegee the floors (we squeegee here, rather than mop and my favorite house chore is squeegeeing) and do some laundry. Then, for lunch, I'm going to make corn on the cob! I got some from the farm this morning and I can't wait to taste it!

We are the champions, my friends...

2008-04-28T12:19:00.001-07:00

Yesterday the Youth Olympiad at the Dar Chebab was a success! I couldn't be happier with how well everything went and how smoothly it all seemed to come together. I was so proud of my boys and how hard they worked planning this event. Two months ago, we started talking about it and it feels good to see an idea actualize into something concrete!

I woke up early to fill water balloons in my house and gather all the materials we would need for the activities. One of my boys came over at exactly 8:00 am (he is never late and would no problem fitting into American society) and I sent him to the hanut to get my half a kilo of bananas and four cantaloupes. I gave him 20 durhams and he returned shortly asking for more money. He thought I had said 4 kilos of bananas and that would have been rather expensive. Three other boys soon joined us and we hauled the tub of water balloons and other odds and ends to the Dar Chebab.

On the way to Dar Chebab, we met up with a fellow PC volunteer, Shanna, who had brought 9 youth with her to the event. The kids were riding on a donkey cart and singing the wedding song, very excited to be there. When we arrived at the Dar Chebab, we weren't shocked to find the moudir MIA so we got things started on our own. The kids made name tags and started singing songs. Soon, Ian, another PC volunteer, showed up with his youth. I had a good chuckle when he walked in wearing his bicycle helmet on his head! I had asked him to bring it over for an activity and he wore it throughout the day as a joke.

Dan showed up a little late and due to my poor instructions on how to get to the Dar Chebab, he got lost in my town and ended up wandering around by a mosque on the edge of town. I told him to "walk toward the mosque" and he did. Just, not the right one. I went out looking for him, found a kid I recognized on the street and asked him to go look for a lost American and bring him to the Dar Chebab. The boy immediately took off in search of Dan.

Somehow Dan made it to the Dar Chebab on his own and we started the opening ceremony. I had prepared my list of rules written in Arabic so I wouldn't forget anything and of course, I forgot that piece of paper at my house! So, I winged it and the kids helped me when I couldn't remember certain words. After splitting the kids up into groups, each group created a group name and chant. One group called themselves "the Farmers." The next group's name was "Infinity," then there was "Dragons" and finally the team "Adventure," which was my team.

Our first round of activities were sports-related. We started with an egg relay and surprisingly, no eggs broke at all. Then, we had a banana relay which consisted of the kids putting a banana under their arm and hopping on one foot. Even after telling the kids that they should jump carefully, they took off in a mad dash and within seconds all the bananas had been smashed. A lot of the kids had banana stains on their armpits! We also bowled with cantaloupes, had a three-legged race and water balloon toss. I made sure to fill up extra water balloons so the kids could play around a little. I got bombed in the back of the head with two large balloons! But, it felt really good because it was so hot.

The next round was an English competition. The first activity was a word scramble and then we played Hangman. I had also prepared pictionary and charades but the time was running down, so we had to cut a few things.

After English, we moved on to GGLOW activities. GGLOW means Guys and Girls Leading Our World and encourages youth to learn good leadership skills. We played blindfolded tag, which required one person from each team to wear a blindfold and play tag. The blinded person would listen to the directions given to them by their teammates. It was hysterical. We made the kids wear our bike helmets in case one of them ran into a wall or fell down. Then we played a game where we pretended we needed to cross a river and only had five pieces of paper to walk on to cross the river. The kids had to work together to get across the river without "falling in."

After tallying up the points, each team sang their chants again and then the results were given. My team "Adventure" actually came in first place and they were all very happy. But, the most important thing was that all of the kids had fun and even the kids in last place had smiles on their faces.

By this time we were all starving, so we all had lunch together. We ate fish and bread and drank pop. Then, the kids with Shanna left. And some time later, the kids with Ian left. Ian and Dan stuck around, helped me carry my stuff back to my house and then stayed over. We made pizza and played "catchphrase music" which was hilarious! It's like catchphrase, except you have to guess songs and we played it for a few hours, sitting on my balcony, trying to keep cool.

Today Ian stuck around for a while and then Leslie came over for lunch. We ate some really yummy watermelon and then just rested and listened to music because it was too hot to move. I checked the temperature at 6:30 and it was 96 degrees. Two hours have passed, but it stills the same. I might take a shower now and continue "resting" until tomorrow!

Make sure to check out the pictures I posted.

MMMM TOASTY?

2008-04-25T13:34:00.001-07:00

Summer has arrived it seems. h-o-t. Yesterday was extremely hot and today was no better. With my acute weather temperature guessing abilities, I would wager any number between 95 and 100. I could be way off, but I doubt it.

I've been doing exercise in the mornings outside of town for the past few weeks and I knew I was in store for a little what I like to call "blastissimo" when already at 6:30 am I was sweating from the sun. The worst part of the day is definitely after lunch between the hours of noon and oh, let's say sunset. I left my house at four to walk to the Dar Chebab and basically dragged myself there. Once there, we played ping pong inside the big room or "incinerator" for many hours. After a while I started to feel really silly and started acting weird. The kids seemed to like it though, so whatever.

With the heat, it seems things stop working properly. Water. Internet. People. My Bicycle. Electricity. This year I've yet to encounter a power outage or lack of water, but it'll happen sometime this summer. The past week my boys and I have been trying to get a hold of the ex-president of our town and he has been really difficult to track down. Both my ex-moudir and current moudir seem to be absent as well. At least I have my kids.

So, yesterday the kids came over to my house and we made tie-dyed t-shirts that we plan to wear this Sunday. Sunday, if you haven't heard, is going to be a "youth olympiad" at my Dar Chebab, put together by yours truly. Today things really started coming together and I was quite pleased! I have four Peace Corps volunteers coming to the event and three of them are brining youth with them to participate! Should be an awesome time, sun permitting. We are, however, still trying to find a meal ticket for the day. We're hoping the ex-president will donate us a lunch or money for a lunch, but we have a back-up plan that involves the kids brining tajines prepared by their mothers. I feel bad that this is our back-up plan, but the kids seem to believe that their moms would be happy to cook for us. Nothing like a steaming tajine for lunch on a 100 degree day!

I posted some pictures on flickr of the tie-dying and plan on posting more after the big event on Sunday! Stay tuned!

Broken, busted, on the fritz, kaput

2008-04-21T03:38:00.000-07:00

Not to wallow in my own misery, but I need to complain about my bad luck! Last night and this morning it seems everything has gone wrong that could go wrong. In order of occurrence:

Broken door
Lazy Landlord
Bloody Noses
Perpetually clogged sink
Busted USB drive
Large cockroach hunt & kill
Crazy man at night

Broken door: more on this later, when I've cooled off a bit.

Lazy Landlord: Gave the ol' Peace Corps a call this morning and our fearless Safety & Security Advisor gave the guy something to think about. If this doesn't work, the next step is to tell him I'll leave the town if he doesn't act responsibly. That should get him moving.

Bloody Noses: Five in the past week. One happened in public and was a little embarrassing and involved me quickly walking home with a piece of paper and blood on my face! Luckily, I was right outside my door, so only a few people noticed. Got some medication at the pharmacy today to help with that problem.

Perpetually Clogged Sink: Last night after boiling water and pouring it down the bathroom sink four times, I gave up and went to bed. This morning, I bought some vinegar and baking soda and tried to blast it open, but that failed. I tried unscrewing the basket strainer but it seems stuck. I might have to call a plumber or somebody, because it's a foregone conclusion that the landlord ain't comin'.

Busted USB drive: Two nights ago I bumped my USB drive against a door frame and lucky me, it cracked right open! All my photos I've ever taken in Morocco were on that little flash drive, so I'm hoping that some knowledgeable person can take that little chip and work some kind of miracle with it. Anybody with any ideas about that, please let me know. For now, it's awaiting its fate safe inside a ziploc baggie.

Large cockroach hunt & kill: Last night while making dinner, I heard some rustling over in the corner of the kitchen. I grabbed a broom and investigated. Worried I would find a mouse, I was at first relieved but then terrified to find a cockroach the size of a cigarette lighter running towards me. I screamed, squashed it and swept it out the door.

Crazy man at night: After eating dinner and boiling water for hours, I went to bed, fell dead asleep and woke up two hours later to the sound of a crazy man outside my window. I think I wrote about a crazy man coming out at night before. I'm pretty sure it's the same dude. He likes to pick up things, hold them over his head, and throw them into the road. When he threw a rock at my house, I woke up. I watched him turn over a large dumpster and steal my neighbor's sign advertising his dentist office. Then, he entertained the entire neighborhood with his half an hour drum solo on a garbage can. After that either he passed out or found something new to throw and walked away.

Now, I do recognize I've got a few things going in my favor. The Safety & Security Advisor. Today's my day off from work. And, hmmm, is that it? Let me see.... Oh, I had a really good day yesterday.

Four of my best boys from Dar Chebab traveled with me to the next town over to meet with the Peace Corps volunteer and his boys. We planned a "Youth Olympiad" which the kids of my town are hosting with my help this Sunday. We will have a sports competition, English competition, and a leadership activity. This week my boys and I are going to tie-dye t-shirts to wear for the event. Also, we are going to meet with the president of the town on Tuesday and ask if he'll donate a lunch for the youth on Sunday. I'll write more about this later, but I'm very happy with how my work is going, despite all my personal problems!

Back to reality now. I need to find a bigger screwdriver.

settling in again

2008-04-15T03:43:00.000-07:00

I didn't do anything at all this weekend. I needed a day or two to relax after Sara's visit/Spring camp. I did some exercise, laundry and studied my Arabic a little. Every once in a while I need a day where I don't leave my house and just sort of store up energy until the next time when I can have a day of quiet time again.

I'm feeling really integrated and content in my town. When I came back from camp, everyone was so happy to see me and were asking me, "Where have you been hiding?" I remember when I left my town for camp, the taxi driver gave me this concerned look and asked, "You'll come back, right? You're not yet finished with your work!" And I laughed, and reassured him I would return. When I walked into Dar Chebab, my boys were sitting there, waiting for me. I love my boys. This month our Friends Club is going to plan a field day for the youth from our town and the next town over. We will have sports and English competitions and leadership activities. I'm really excited and can't wait to see how it turns out!

I started an exercise "regime" as we say it here when I got back from camp. I've been getting up at 6:30 every day, riding my bike to Nadia's house in the village, and the two of us walk to a farm where we walk laps. Then, I ride my bike back to town. It's great because it's early and nobody is at the farm, so it's just the two of us, no harassment. It makes me feel like a normal person again. And I don't really mind getting up that early. I think it makes me more productive in my day anyway.

I've been listening to a lot of Arabic music lately. It's fun trying to listen for the words and see how much I can understand. Guess I'm a dork! I'll try and see if I can get on the songs on the blog. There has to be a way to do that!

Mini Update...More to Come!

2008-04-09T01:54:00.000-07:00

Hello Everyone!

I have returned from Spring Camp! What a whirlwind of a week, that's for sure. The day Sara left, I woke up at 2:50 am to get to the airport for Sara's flight home...returned to the hotel alone (sad) and slept until 8:00, got up, and started my journey to Spring Camp. Of course, transportation was horrible and it seemed like the never-ending day of travel. I finally arrived at the camp center around 8:00 pm. Exhausted.

This year, I coordinated the camp in El Jadida. It was my first time coordinating, and I was really pleased with how well things went. There were five other Peace Corps volunteers under my guidance, and a Moroccan staff of eight, plus our camp director. I only have good things to say about the camp, except for one thing. The director. He was awful. His one job was to get us supplies for our English classes and clubs, and he had a difficult time managing that. Also, at the end of camp he required us to write a report for him, and ended up censoring every negative comment we mentioned. Don't worry, I intend on sending a follow up report to my programming staff in Rabat.

Anyway, camp was awesome. I had a great group of PCVs who were really excited to be there and eager to work with the kids. There is a tendency for PCVs to slack off and only work when forced to, but this was not the case in El Jadida. Also, I was blown away by the Moroccan staff. I have worked at three camps during my time in Morocco, and this staff was by far the best group I have ever worked with. The reason why: they were all young people. All of us, PCVs and Moroccans, were under the age of 30. It makes a huge difference. We all bonded and quite a bit of fun working together. I hope to get the chance to work with some of them again in the future!

After camp, I met my friend Rebecca in Casablanca for a night of rest and relaxation. We dined at only the finest of establishments...the KFC. Dis-ap-point-ment. We had heard a TGIFridays was open in Casa, but when we got there, we found it still under construction. Big bummer. So, we settled for what we thought would be the next best thing: chicken. Wrong. This was probably the worst experience I've ever had in any restaurant ever. Incompetence. We entered the restaurant and found a crowd of people corralling into a big blob around the counter. We noticed a few posts trying to force people to form lines, but that didn't seem to help much. We then waited in line for 45 minutes...as each minute ticked by, we grew closer to the point of leaving, but never did. So, we ordered our meal, elbowed our way out of the crowd with our tray and fountain drinks, and found outdoor seating with a view of the ocean. Also, a view of the "children's play land" or grassy area with one small plastic playhouse. I think the kids happy meal must have included a toy horn because all the kids had one and were breaking in their new toy ceremoniously. There was no line between where children's play land ended and the regular seating began. Balls flying everywhere, horns blowing, and crying everywhere. As we ate, we had prime seats for watching the custodial help "clean up." This involved scooping up trash into a dustpan and smashing it into an already overflowing trash can. After we finished eating, we had instant stomachaches and went back to the hotel to rest. (I think we're not accustomed to American fast food anymore)

We each took a long hot bath in the hotel and read the People magazines that my grandparents had sent me in the mail. Then we ordered Pizza Hut delivery. When asked on the phone if I wanted a side of potatoes with the pizza, I specifically said, in arabic, "No Batata" but alas, we were charged for and delivered one order of potatoes. Oh, well.

The next day we stayed in bed absorbing as much tv time as we could before we had to check-out at noon. At noon, exactly, we checked out, boarded a train and traveled to Marrakech. I spent the night at Rebecca's house and yesterday made my way back to my town. I arrived last night, tired, and found my house a disaster!

The outside door is broken. Somebody (probably the dentist) broke the lock (again). I heard while I was gone there were five men living and smoking a lot next door, but now they are apparently moving out. Humdullah. I talked to one guy who I had never seen before about the door. He didn't seem concerned or interested in fixing it. I will talk to the dentist today. I would prefer if the MulDar (landlord) would buy an entirely new door, but I'll settle for a new lock. Also, I forgot a bunch of bananas in my kitchen and over the week at least 50 fruit flies spawned and took over my kitchen. One dead cockroach. Lots of dust. All posters had fallen off walls And near-death plants. Must have been hot and dusty here.

Today I will do laundry, clean house, try to get rid of gross banana smell, and go to Dar Chebab. Take a look at the new pictures I posted on Flickr! Take care and write me!

chutes and ladders

2008-03-25T14:47:00.000-07:00

Salaam! This is Sara. I just thought I would update you all on what Jenny and I have been up to. My trip has been a life experience that I will never forget. I arrived a little bit late in Agadir, but seeing a smiling Jenny was well worth the long trip. Miraculously the luggage came, bizzare. Fahrid, a Moroccan who lives in U.S., befriended me and gave us a ride from the airport to our hotel (Hotel Argana) where we then unloaded our things and went out for dinner at Little Italy.

The next day we traveled by grand taxi to Essaouira which was beautiful. We drove along the coast most of the way and arrived in the afternoon. After checking into our hotel called Hotel Smara, we basically shopped the day away. A word that I repeated over and over throughout the day was; overwhelming. There are so many vendors and so many choices. Especially shoes. At the end of the day I wasn't sure of what I liked anymore.

On Easter Sunday, I woke up Jenny to a pre-planned Easter surprise. I hid plastic easter eggs filled with American chocolate and jelly beans all over the hotel for her to find. We then grabbed a quick breakfast of freshly squeezed orange juice and cookies and took another grand taxi to Marrakech. Long taxi ride, but also worth it.

Marrakech is an amazing place. It is very busy with lots of people (Moroccans and tourists), millions of vendors, snake charmers, orange juice stands, monkeys, crazy people zooming around on mopeds, and horse and buggies. We checked into our hotel called Sindi Sud which was very cute! Jenny planned for us to meet her friend and fellow Peace Corps volunteer, Rebecca with whom we were sharing our hotel room with.

Shopping was very successful in both Essaouira and Marrakech, but I found that the people in Essaouira are much nicer and the vendors in Marrakech just want your money and were very rude. Most of the day in Marrakech I pretended I could only speak Spanish so men that harrassed me would leave me alone. Once we entered the souk I really felt like I was in Morocco: I had no idea which way was out!

During the afternoon Jenny and I took a break from shopping and paid a man 150 durheim to take us on a horse and buggy ride around town. I loved this! The driver took us through the souk honking his horn so everyone would move and I could take as many pictures as I liked without getting hassled for money.

On Monday we woke up pretty early and left for Jenny's site! The taxi ride was very long and we stopped half way for lunch. The journey to her town takes you through a big range of mountains with lots of twists and turns and the a pretty quick decline into the valley. Jenny had sent her luggage to a nearby town so we stopped on our way to pick it up and it was there waiting for us!

Currently I am in Jenny's house! We made it safely to her site and I met Kabira right after we got out of the taxi. She is so beautiful and very smiley. It's nice to know that Jenny is well taken care of here. Today we had lunch at her host family's house where I met Nadia, lots of family, the twins, and Abdella - the cutest little Moroccan 4-year-old boy ever. He remembered 'Megan" and wants me to tell her that he says hi! "Lunch" was a 6 hour affair. We also had a 'fashion show' where they dressed me up like a doll in four different traditional Moroccan wedding outfits. I was very sleepy and tired of being fussed over.

We left the host family around 5pm and came back to Jenny's house to grab Chutes and Ladders to play at the Dar Chebab. Then we had to go right away to the Dar Chebab. Jenny's boys are so cute. The LOVE her. Everyone is constantly saying "Jeeeenie" to get her attention. They all want to be near her and one, Salah, left early because she wasn't paying enough attention to him! I think about 20 to 25 boys came. We played connect-four, chess, and chutes and ladders. They LOVED chutes and ladders. I won twice! And Morwan won the other time. Morwan is my favorite so far. He constantly says Jenny's name, which is cute, and he also walked us home and even helped us buy cilantro. Jenny says her boys always walk her home at night because it is dark. I have no idea what they are saying, but I do know that the all talk her ear off!

Tomorrow we might play Monopoly in the morning and then we're going to the farm for lunch! I am having a blast here and don't want to leave on Friday. I wish I could stay at least another week with Jenny!

Lastly, I just want you all to know how proud I am of Jenny. She is fluent in Arabic, a master chef, and established a great youth program here all by herself! Also, I know some of you are worried about Jenny but I want you all to know that she is well taken care of. Her host family, her boys, Kabira, and so many others care a lot about her and look out for her well being and safety!

Busy Happy Busy

2008-03-18T15:17:00.000-07:00

Last Tuesday I left town for a meeting in Rabat and just got back today. I'm coordinating a spring camp this year and met with the moudir of the camp. We talked about both our expectations, planned the schedule, and I got a chance to ask a lot of questions. (All in arabic) Then, the moudir peaced-out. I thought he was kind of rushing through all my questions, and then when he asked "safi?" as in "are we finished here?" and when I nodded yes he got up from his chair and quickly walked out of the room (underwear sticking out from above pants) and drove away. Everybody else's moudirs stayed for the rest of the afternoon, so come time for the presentations I had to give ours alone.

If you forgot from last year, I'll remind you what a spring camp actually entails. All students in Morocco have a spring break from March 31-April 5 and there are many national camps all over the country. A handful of these camps work with the US Peace Corps to provide language immersion camps for 13-17 year olds. I worked at the spring camp in Agadir last year and this year I will be coordinating the spring camp in El Jadida. Also, during the summer there are four two-week long Peace Corps language camps offered in El Jadida. I worked two of these camps last July.

This spring, I will be responsible for coordinating the schedules and activities of the PCVs working the camp. At my camp, we will have two Youth Development volunteers (including myself), two Health volunteers, and two Small-business Development volunteers. And 100 youth attending. There will also be around 8 Moroccan staff and the moudir. Each volunteer will teach an English class in the morning and lead a club in the afternoon. I am going to be teaching a beginner's class and leading Science Club. Some other clubs volunteers are putting together are theater, art, Guys and Girls Leading Our World, and geography. Us volunteers will also be expected to lead two of the evening activities. One night I plan on showing an American movie and the other night we'll throw an un-birthday party. Moroccans don't celebrate birthdays, so it will be a chance to share a little bit of American culture with the kids. We're going to make party hats, play games, have a pinata (which I might fill with toothbrushes and toothpaste to encourage kids to brush their teeth), and eat birthday cake and sing "Happy Birthday."

Because I've been so busy this week planning the camp and then stopping by my friend Rebecca's house on my way home, I've had little time to prepare for Sara's visit this week! I got home today around 3 o'clock and went to the Dar Chebab where I found all of my boys waiting around for me. I was really surprised because normally they don't show up until around 6pm, but I guess they missed me. I got them all hyped up for Sara's visit. She can expect to play a lot of ping pong!

Tomorrow will be a busy day for me! On my list of to-do's is clean house, do laundry, and buy mattress. After the bed bug disaster, I ended up getting rid of my bed (aka throwing on top of roof) and since then have been sleeping on a small mat on the floor. So, if I want to be a good hostess I should probably go buy a similar mat for Sara to sleep on! And if I get lucky, I'll buy a pillow, too!

Hopefully next time I post I will have lots of new photos of Sara in Morocco!

New Pictures on Flickr!

2008-03-11T16:44:00.000-07:00

It's about time I got some new pictures up online! I'm some problems with my camera right now, so I haven't been able to take pictures of anything, but I managed to get some photos from my host family of my birthday!

New Neighbors Again

2008-03-11T02:47:00.000-07:00

Last night around 8 pm I heard the door opening downstairs and some men come upstairs to the room next door. Annoyed that my landlord didn't mention to me that strange men would be coming to my house at night, I ignored them. Until I started hearing moving sounds. I went out ot investigate and found some men moving furniture into one of the vacant apartments. I probably reacted a bit unfavorably, but I was annoyed that nobody told me about this. So, I asked them who would be living there and they said, "us." I asked if they were married and they said no and asked why. So, I told them I was uncomfortable living alone next to unmarried men and went back inside my house.

I've gotten over it a little now, but I'm still mad at my landlord. He is so immature and irresponsible. I know he is afraid of me and that's why he didn't come over to tell me about this. But, I've told him many, many times that it is daori (necessary) for him to always inform me of what is going on, especially at night, because I am a woman living alone.

I wonder what their story is. It is very unusual for any person to live alone in this country, and especially two young men. Normally, they should still be living at home with their family until they get married. They probably work somewhere in town. My biggest concern now is if they're good men or bad men. Good men wouldn't be bad to live next to. They would make it safer for me to live here, look out for me, and mind their own business. Bad men would smoke, drink, and have women over at night, and probably harass me. So, we will see. I also am concerned about the roof situation. Normally, in Morocco, the roof belongs to the women. But, I assume they will need to wash their clothes at some point and I'd rather not have them looking at my underwear and bras. Maybe we can make some kind of arrangement for times they are allowed upstairs.

This is so typical of my life here. It's always when I get a little more comfortable, happy, that something big happens and I have to start readjusting to the new thing. By the time I am done with Peace Corps, I am going to be the most patient, adaptable person I know.

lists, lists, lists

2008-03-07T15:30:00.001-08:00

I'm obsessed with making lists lately. It doesn't help that I keep losing the lists and need to make new ones. But, I found a list from last week and was pleased to find I had accomplished some of my goals.

- Start journaling in notebook. check!
- Is key needed to open roof door from the outside? no!
- Submit my monthly report to PC. oops.
- Prepare site visit report. check!
- Send out spring camp email. check! (I'm coordinating a spring camp next month. There will be six volunteers and 100 kids...)
- Submit paperwork for vacation days: Sara's visit and the Gnawa festival. half-check!
- Plan visit to Rebecca's site. check!
- Sunbathe. too hot, napping instead.
- Spring cleaning. check!
- Cook lasagna. not yet.
- Bake chocolate chip cookies and distribute to friends. nope.
- Talk to my Dar Chebab kids about the following: music club, art club, friends club, advertising, library club, sports club, and a world mural project. check! check! check!

I don't know if this is interesting or not, so I'll just forge on!

Things I need (or want) to do tomorrow (as in today March 7) or accomplish this week:

- Go to post office. check!
- Go to host family's for couscous. oops.
- Ride bike to farm on Saturday. well, I rode bike past family's house in town and discussed going to farm on Sunday for baby shower, so that's half way there!
- Plan lesson for high school class. check, but nobody showed up.
- Advertise classes at high school. next Tuesday, god willing.
- Organize books, games, etc at Dar Chebab. check!
- Do laundry. noooo.
- Wash floors. noooo.
- Get dirt for plants. hmm, not yet.
- Get birthday photos from Nadia's camera. nope.
- Think about planning a girls leadership camp this summer in my town. maybe a 1/4 check.
- Plan English lessons and club for Spring camp. not yet.
- Get moudir's signature for vacation days requested. check!
- Plan activity for Youth Cafe - egg drop? still working on that one.
- Get digital camera fixed - where? how? no check.
- Email friends and family. check.
- Email dad about ping pong paddles. Dad, can you send my boys two ping pong paddles? check!
- Plan bike trip with boys this Sunday. check!

Things not ever added to list but thought about often:

- exercise more
- write letters to family back home
- do more crafty projects at home
- never leave dishes unwashed in sink
- read more books
- actually read the Newsweeks PC sends to me
- study my Arabic
- shower daily
- shave legs

I love my job!

2008-03-06T13:08:00.000-08:00

Today started off great, with a site visit from my Peace Corps program manager. Once a year, a volunteer's program manager comes to visit them at their site: talk to them about their work, meet their counterpart (in my case, my moudir), and see their house. Once a year, which equals only two times during one's service.

There are two program managers for the Youth Development sector and Abdelghani came this year. First of all, he got lost on his way to my town and called me on his cell phone from the jail nearby. That was pretty funny. When he finally arrived, we spent two hours talking about my work. He had all really positive and nice things to say - a real confidence boost. Then, he slipped on my child-size spiderman house sandals and because they were so small, he had to tiptoe to the bathroom. It didn't bother me at all (somebody besides me wearing my shoes to go to the turkish toilet would have bothered me a year ago) but I laughed out loud.

Most importantly, Abdelghani saved the day! He talked to all the important people and assured me that the Dar Chebab will never close. Because there is a new president in my town, the local mayor's office has been restructuring everything (the last guy was pretty corrupt) and that effects the Dar Chebab, but not me or my job. Good news! And, to top it all off, we might be delegated a new moudir. That could be either awesome or a disaster, depending on the new guy's competence and motivation.

So, after my awesome visit with Abdelghani, I carried on with my usual daily activities. Went shopping, cooked lunch, took a nap, and prepared my English lesson for the afternoon. When I got to the Neddi Niswi (women's center) I found out one of the girl (we say "girl" to any unmarried woman, even if she is 40 years old, like this "girl") was absent because her father had died. So, we cancelled English class and walked out of town to a nearby douar (village) to pay our respects. It was my first Moroccan funeral.

The family of the deceased sat on the floor by the door. I made sure I had the right God phrase in mind before greeting the family. (In this case, "baraka frask" was used, meaning "may god grant you grace") The house was full of Moroccan women. There was one woman wearing all white, who was the widow of the man who died. I didn't know who to say the god phrase to after a while. And I have no idea where all the men were sitting. That's not unusual though. We were seated in a room where we were served mint tea and cookies. Then, a woman lead us in prayer. When the prayer ended, we got up and left. On my way out a weird thing (but actually quite normal in my life here) happened. The widow grabbed my arm and begged me to stay longer with her. I had never met her before and was touched but also freaked out by all the people, so I politely told her I had to get to work.

At the Dar Chebab, we had our first successful Music Club. It was determined that the keyboard had a broken plug. But, we were allowed to use the guitar and drum and I brought in my harmonica. We had a fun jam session and it reminded me of how much I love music. I miss playing music and singing. I decided I am going to teach the kids how to read and write music. They want to learn and it is actually something I know quite a bit about, so it should be both fun and educational. It was pretty fun, except that the most obnoxious kid ever came. He knew a little bit more English than the other kids who are much younger than him and any chance he had to show-off his English, he would do it. Or he would lecture me about American English, as if he were the expert. We played a game about American geography and I had to ask him not to play the game because he was ruining it for the whole group.

After dominating the entire group in Connect Four, I called it a night and the kids walked me home. Salah, one of my favorite students, said his mom had a present for me and returned to my door half an hour later with a huge sack full of navel oranges.

How could I not love this job? Every day is unique and different, but all the while, reassuring in its likeness.

PS My camera is broken and that is why there haven't been any new pictures in a while. I am trying to get it fixed, so hopefully you'll have some new photos soon!

Birthday Awesomeness!

2008-03-03T01:39:00.000-08:00

I am 25 years old! And because yesterday fell on a Sunday (my weekend here) I was able to spend the day with all the people I love! I woke up early at 8:00 to take a taxi to Agadir and first went dvd shopping. I got a lot of good ones, including Into the Wild, which I'm stoked to watch. Then instead of taking a petit taxi like I usually do, I walked to the beach. And I decided to take a different route. Instead of walking by hotels and touristy-storefronts, I strolled through the Moroccan neighborhoods and walked by swinging slabs of meat, dumpsters, and a mosque. I actually didn't intend on taking this new route, but I was daydreaming and missed a turn and so just navigated my way back.

Once I made my way back toward the beach, I met up with some of my Peace Corps friends at a beach side restaurant. Chase, Dan, Leslie, Ian and Julia came. We ate fried calamari and Chase brought along a carrot cake she baked. We didn't have candles, so we improvised with waving fingers. Then, while the rest of them strolled along the beach, I hopped in a taxi and hurried back to my town. I gathered my overnight backpack, hopped on my bike, and rode out to my host family's village. On the way, a group of giggling boys raced me.

At the douar, or village, I told my family we would be having American birthday night. I baked a chocolate cake with coconut cream frosting, cut up veggies and made a ranch dip that mom sent to me in the mail shHal hadi (a long time ago), and made spaghetti. While waiting for the cake to bake, the twin girls (my host mom's cousins, but they are only four years old) were trying to drag me into the salon and kept asking me, "have you seen it yet?" Everyone in the room was ignoring them, until their mom said finally, "ok, fine, take her to the room" and the girls ran me over to the salon, giggling. Inside, my family had decorated the room for my birthday! With garland, they wrote on the wall "Jenny" and "Houda," another cousin whose birthday is the same as mine, but who didn't make it to the party.

It was a night of surprises. After we ate our spaghetti, I began sticking candles in my cake, when they brought out two store bought cakes! Three cakes! We lit the candles and then somebody decided the "mood" wasn't right and went off in search of "music." Half an hour later, they were blasting Jennifer Lopez (in honor of me) and singing loudly over the music "Happy Birthday." They were really obsessed with taking pictures of me cutting the cakes, so I must ask about the cultural significance of that. As we were eating the cake and drinking coca cola, they surprised me again with presents! I was not expecting presents at all! They gave me chocolate, slippers, a mirror, and oddly, a fireplace bellows.

After presents, I pulled out Pin the Tail on the Donkey. I was nervous using "donkey" might be a little inappropriate (because of cultural reasons) but they thought it was hilarious. So, we played and took lots of pictures. Then, we played Connect Four and Old Maid. They loved all the games. We played until 1 am! Now, comes the cheesy party! I am so thankful that I was able to share yesterday with so many kind people.

Best/Worst Day Ever

2008-02-27T13:54:00.000-08:00

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

2008-02-20T11:39:00.000-08:00

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

2008-02-18T02:45:00.001-08:00

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

2008-02-18T02:20:00.000-08:00

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

2008-02-18T02:17:00.000-08:00

Zucchini Smoothie

one zucchini
one flavored yogurt
splash of any flavor of juice

Blend. Drink. Enjoy.

I have a crush on every boy!*

2008-02-16T15:00:00.000-08:00

*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

2008-02-15T11:55:00.000-08:00

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

2008-02-14T01:19:00.000-08:00

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

2008-02-12T02:00:00.001-08:00

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

2008-02-09T15:12:00.000-08:00

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!!

2008-02-06T01:33:00.001-08:00

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

2008-02-03T01:57:00.000-08:00

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.

I Got Rabbits!

2008-01-29T13:22:00.000-08:00

So, boredom and loneliness have brought me rabbits. My new pets are currently busy nibbling their carrots and recovering from what I'm sure was a terrifying day.

They spent most the day spent cramped up in a small cardboard box alongside four others. I think they traveled pretty far that way. And it was a hot day, so they looked pretty gross when we first met. But, within the last three hours that we've been together, they seem to be adjusting and they're even looking cleaner. I still need to take a close look at them and pick out any bugs stuck in their fur.

The rabbits gave me many errands to busy myself with today. I tracked down a future home for them and found a good plastic orange crate, but my host cousin fell through on his promise of bringing it over this evening. So, their current residence is inside a cardboard box. He also helped me gather some weeds to feed them (we discovered a basil plant together and I forced him to take a bite out of one the leaves...people don't use basil here!), but most of them had these tiny thistles in them, which all got stuck to my clothes, and then I got into a heated discussion with some people outside my house about weeds. I guess rabbits hate weeds. They prefer carrot and mint leaves.

After picking all the thistles off my shirt and pants, I visited the vegetable man to get some carrots. When I asked him if rabbits eat the tops of green onions, he and his son laughed at me for a good five minutes. Apparently, everyone knows what rabbits eat and so it was hilarious that the American girl was asking about this. He then grabbed a handful of carrot tops to give me, but when I got home I discovered he also threw in some garbage as well.

This whole rabbit endeavor was the doing of my friend Kabira. I had been complaining to her earlier today about how I am lonely and will probably end up an old maid, and I guess her solution to this problem was rabbits. This afternoon, her mother arrived with a box full of rabbits and they decided they would make a good gift for me. One would be too cruel, best not to be lonely like me, so two were given to me. I'm not sure if baby bunnies are someday in this pair's future, but I think once they get a little bigger, it should be more clear.

Down Time

2008-01-27T06:33:00.001-08:00

So, it seems the entire month of January has been one long vacation for students in Morocco. There was the new year, the Muslim new year, and independence day; all national holidays with no school or work. Then, there was a few days of school, but shortly after came the week-long exams. No school during exam week. The following week the students had off as well, waiting for teachers to correct the exams. Then, yesterday began the 11-day long mid-winter holiday break. Needless to say, when there is no school, there are no kids at Dar Chebab.

Even though I know this is true, I still find myself going to the Dar Chebab every day, hoping that maybe one stray kid will show up and want to hang out with me. I feel so desperate. Yesterday, I waited alone for over an hour, watching a cat clean itself, when a student happened to pass by and I guilted him into playing ping pong with me.

This coming week I won't even bother going to work, because there is no chance of anybody showing up. (Well, I say that now, but I know I will go...hoping...) I'm getting pretty bored. A few days ago I made the mistake of cooking enough flour tortillas and taco meat to last me a week. So, even though I am crazy about tacos, I hit my limit. I baked and ate an entire chocolate cake. I entertained friends. Visited my friends. Visited the farm. Bought some plants. Colored with crayons. Watched the entire season 4 of Gilmore Girls. Reorganized my kitchen. STUDIED MY ARABIC TEXTBOOK. This is how bored I am...I haven't picked up that book since before summer. It's probably not bad to review and learn some new verbs, though.

Today, I colored again and now I am trying to motivate myself to do some laundry. I would even consider going on a bike ride. Bike riding in my town is a joke. I can walk to the edge of town and back in ten minutes, so with a bike, that cuts the time down considerably.

Oh, my god, I just reread this and realized how whiny and pathetic I sound! I'm sorry if you read this post, it was even boring to write!

Recipe Corner in Jenny's Kuzina: Lesson 4

2008-01-27T06:21:00.000-08:00

Quiche Florentine

You will need:

1 9" piecrust
3-4 eggs
1 3/4 c. milk
1/2 t salt
1 c. cheese, grated
1/2 c. chopped, drained spinach
pinch of nutmeg and/or cayenne

To prepare:

Bring milk to almost-boiling and let cool. Beat together eggs, spinach, and seasonings. Sprinkle bottom of piecrust with cheese and pour egg mixture on top. Bake for 1 hour or until the egg mixture is set.

Use your own pie crust recipe, or mine:

1 1/4 c. flour
1 T sugar
1/4 t salt
1/2 c butter
1 egg yolk
1/4 c milk

In a med bowl, stir together flour, sugar and salt. Cut in shortening until mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Combine the egg yolks and milk; stir into the flour mixture. On a lightly floured surface, roll dough out to the size of pan. Bake according to quiche recipe instructions.

Age

2008-01-22T12:44:00.000-08:00

Today I was sitting in the bakery, visiting with my friend Kabira when her mother walked in. Her mother is Berber and much more conservative than her children. She wears what we call a "milhaf," which is like a long sheet that women wrap themselves in from head to foot. Most women cover their faces, too. In my town, I'd say about half the women here wear milhafs, the other half wear jilabas (like a long pajama gown with a hood). Almost all the women wear head scarves. And the school-aged girls wear Western clothes with a white school pinafore over them. And then, there's me...I don't quite fit in with any of them with my loose fitting Western clothes, but that's another story.

Anyway, back to today. In walked, Kabira's mom. Mother of three daughters, oldest daugher around 26 years old. Sick with leg, back, and teeth pain. Walks slowly. Wrinkled. Her age: I'd guess close to 65 or older. All three of my grandparents in America are older than what I assumed to be her age and all three of them look younger and are much healthier.

WRONG! So, so very wrong. Age came up today when she asked if my parents were well, if they weren't sick, if they still had their youth. I said, yes, still young. She asked how old and I told her their ages. She laughed and said, no, they are OLD! She then told me she was 38 years old. I was shocked.

Okay, sidenote: most people in Morocco don't exactly know their age, but more or less guess. Birthdays aren't celebrated here.

I did the math. If Kabira is 25-26 and her mother says she is 38 that means....she was 12 when she gave birth??? No way, I thought. So, later, after her mother had left, I asked Kabira how old her mother was when she married her father. She said 14 years old. And a year later Kabira was born, so that would mean her mother had to have been around 15+26=41 years old now.

I'm not sure what my point is here. I guess, it's that women here age faster than in America. When you get married and have children so young, work outdoors on the farm, tend to the animals, do all the laundry by hand, kill the animals, cook the food, it puts some years on you.

Yesterday I watched the movie "Volunteers" with a group of fellow volunteers here in Morocco. The movie is from 1985 starring Tom Hanks and John Candy who sign up for the Peace Corps and are basically dropped off from a helicopter in Thailand without training, and get into all kinds of trouble. One scene shows Tom Hanks meeting the town elder who looks about 100, but John Candy says to him, "He's probably 30 years old." We all got that joke.

English for Fun

2008-01-19T06:40:00.000-08:00

Here is a funny video clip of my friend Kabira, reading an English dialogue.

Recipe Corner in Jenny's Kuzina: Lesson 3

2008-01-17T05:54:00.000-08:00

Ok, I decided to branch out from the traditional Moroccan dishes and will now include some of my personal favorites. This next one is super easy to make and really yummy!

Tuna Curry Salad

You will need:

1 can tuna fish
3 T nuts, chopped
2 T mayonnaise
3 T golden raisins
1/2 apple, chopped
4 T plain yogurt
1 T onion, minced
1/2 t curry powder
basil

To prepare:

Mix all ingredients together.

To eat:

On top of a bed of lettuce, on crackers, as a sandwich, or just by itself! Enjoy! I made this one for lunch today!

Recipe Corner in Jenny's Kuzina: Lesson 2

2008-01-16T11:38:00.000-08:00

Lemon Chicken

You will need:

1 whole chicken, cleaned
2 cloves garlic
1 T parsley
1 t coriander
1/2 t ginger
1/2 t pepper
1 T butter
1 onion, chopped
1/8 t saffron
1/2 t salt
handful of green or purple olives
1-2 preserved lemons, quartered
4 T oil

To prepare:

Put the chicken in a stewing pan (or tajine if you are lucky) with all other ingredients except for lemons and olives. Heat slightly and coat chicken evenly with ingredients. Add water so chicken is half-covered. Simmer over med flame, turning chicken from time to time to baste it. When chicken is tender, remove and continue cooking sauce until smooth and thick. Return chicken to pan and add olives and lemon wedges and cook for 10 more minutes.

To eat:

Again, usually eaten with the hands. Just tear the meat off the bones and throw the steaming meat into your mouth! Or, carve meat off with knife and eat with fork.

Note: Gone are the days when I could recall what was available at the local HyVee, so its quite possible that preserved lemons are hard to come by. If so, here is a recipe to preserve them yourself:

Preserved Lemons

3 lemons, scrubbed, patted dry, and each cut lengthwise into 6 wedges
1/2 c kosher salt
1/2 c fresh lemon juice
olive oil

In a bowl, toss together lemon wedges and salt, transfer to Mason jar with plastic coated lid, and add lemon juice. Cover jar tightly with lid and let stand in a warm place, shaking jar once a day for 7 days. The lemons may be kept, covered with a layer of oil and the lid, chilled, for up to 6 months. And by chilled, the definition here would be, in the shade.

New York Times Op-ed on Peace Corps

2008-01-14T02:05:00.000-08:00

Something to think about:

New York Times
January 9, 2008
Op-Ed Contributor
Too Many Innocents Abroad
By ROBERT L. STRAUSS
Antananarivo, Madagascar

THE Peace Corps recently began a laudable initiative to increase the number of volunteers who are 50 and older. As the Peace Corps’ country director in Cameroon from 2002 until last February, I observed how many older volunteers brought something to their service that most young volunteers could not: extensive professional and life experience and the ability to mentor younger volunteers.

However, even if the Peace Corps reaches its goal of having 15 percent of its volunteers over 50, the overwhelming majority will remain recently minted college graduates. And too often these young volunteers lack the maturity and professional experience to be effective development workers in the 21st century.

This wasn’t the case in 1961 when the Peace Corps sent its first volunteers overseas. Back then, enthusiastic young Americans offered something that many newly independent nations counted in double and even single digits: college graduates. But today, those same nations have millions of well-educated citizens of their own desperately in need of work. So it’s much less clear what inexperienced Americans have to offer.

The Peace Corps has long shipped out well-meaning young people possessing little more than good intentions and a college diploma. What the agency should begin doing is recruiting only the best of recent graduates — as the top professional schools do — and only those older people whose skills and personal characteristics are a solid fit for the needs of the host country.

The Peace Corps has resisted doing this for fear that it would cause the number of volunteers to plummet. The name of the game has been getting volunteers into the field, qualified or not.

In Cameroon, we had many volunteers sent to serve in the agriculture program whose only experience was puttering around in their mom and dad’s backyard during high school. I wrote to our headquarters in Washington to ask if anyone had considered how an American farmer would feel if a fresh-out-of-college Cameroonian with a liberal arts degree who had occasionally visited Grandma’s cassava plot were sent to Iowa to consult on pig-raising techniques learned in a three-month crash course. I’m pretty sure the American farmer would see it as a publicity stunt and a bunch of hooey, but I never heard back from headquarters.

For the Peace Corps, the number of volunteers has always trumped the quality of their work, perhaps because the agency fears that an objective assessment of its impact would reveal that while volunteers generate good will for the United States, they do little or nothing to actually aid development in poor countries. The agency has no comprehensive system for self-evaluation, but rather relies heavily on personal anecdote to demonstrate its worth.

Every few years, the agency polls its volunteers, but in my experience it does not systematically ask the people it is supposedly helping what they think the volunteers have achieved. This is a clear indication of how the Peace Corps neglects its customers; as long as the volunteers are enjoying themselves, it doesn’t matter whether they improve the quality of life in the host countries. Any well-run organization must know what its customers want and then deliver the goods, but this is something the Peace Corps has never learned.

This lack of organizational introspection allows the agency to continue sending, for example, unqualified volunteers to teach English when nearly every developing country could easily find high-caliber English teachers among its own population. Even after Cameroonian teachers and education officials ranked English instruction as their lowest priority (after help with computer literacy, math and science, for example), headquarters in Washington continued to send trainees with little or no classroom experience to teach English in Cameroonian schools. One volunteer told me that the only possible reason he could think of for having been selected was that he was a native English speaker.

The Peace Corps was born during the glory days of the early Kennedy administration. Since then, its leaders and many of the more than 190,000 volunteers who have served have mythologized the agency into something that can never be questioned or improved. The result is an organization that finds itself less and less able to provide what the people of developing countries need — at a time when the United States has never had a greater need for their good will.

Robert L. Strauss has been a Peace Corps volunteer, recruiter and country director. He now heads a management consulting company.

Letters to the Editor:

Who Helps Whom in the Peace Corps?

To the Editor:

In “Too Many Innocents Abroad” (Op-Ed, Jan. 9), Robert L. Strauss criticizes the Peace Corps, saying that often its “young volunteers lack the maturity and professional experience to be effective development workers in the 21st century.”

The agency, he says, “neglects its customers.” In fact, volunteers are trained to integrate into their host communities and listen carefully.

As a volunteer, I spent more than a year in direct dialogue with my Chinese counterparts before helping to set up a weekend program for children. My “customers” — peasant farmers and their children — were immensely grateful.

Mr. Strauss also suggests that the Peace Corps is satisfied if “volunteers are enjoying themselves.” This is, quite frankly, an insult to those who work tirelessly — at great sacrifice and, at times, with little enjoyment — to fulfill their missions.

In applying the metrics of management consulting to the Peace Corps, Mr. Strauss ignores the essence of this marvelous organization: its humanity.

If he wants to deal with “customers,” his matrix for analysis makes sense. The Peace Corps, however, deals with people.

Michael Levy
Northampton, Mass., Jan. 9, 2008

•

To the Editor:

I served in Cameroon as just the kind of agricultural volunteer Robert L. Strauss mentions. As a 20-year-old journalism graduate, I’d grown nary a houseplant before trying to teach farmers how to improve their crops.

The audacity of my arrogance in assuming that this time abroad would do Cameroon any good was apparent on Day 1. I lasted just five months before returning home, frustrated, confused and annoyed that I had put so much thought into a system that failed both the host country and a volunteer with the best of intentions.

The Peace Corps is a great program in true need of reorganization.

Kelli M. Donley
Tempe, Ariz., Jan. 9, 2008

•

To the Editor:

My wife and I were Peace Corps volunteers in India in the 1960s. Since becoming director, I have seen volunteers in action in more than 30 countries, including Cameroon. The quality of the volunteer experience has not changed, nor has the quality of the volunteers who serve. The Peace Corps remains true to President John F. Kennedy’s vision articulated in 1961.

The Peace Corps recruits the best and brightest, and only one out of every three applicants becomes a volunteer. Volunteers provide trained skills at the grass-roots level and promote a better understanding of Americans and our culture. Government officials throughout the world praise the work of volunteers, and the list of countries requesting new programs continues to grow.

The agency’s success is more than anecdotal. Ninety-one percent of volunteers say they feel integrated into their communities, and we have created evaluation plans to better quantify the volunteers’ impact.

We can all be proud of the volunteers serving today. I encourage Americans of all ages and backgrounds to consider serving.

Ronald A. Tschetter
Peace Corps Director
Washington, Jan. 9, 2008

•

To the Editor:

In 2000, when I was a 23-year-old straight out of graduate school, I had very little to offer the Senegalese village I was sent to by the Peace Corps.

Sure, I was the only one in my village with a college degree, but I was in no position to tell the villagers how to run their businesses. Sure, I taught them a little about accounting and some basic math, but my real value was being one extra person to hold a shovel.

The reality was that I was the one who learned the most and got the most from the experience. The Peace Corps is really more of a cultural-exchange program than an international development organization.

Benjamin Y. Clark
Athens, Ga., Jan. 9, 2008

•

To the Editor:

Today, a friend and fellow returned Peace Corps volunteer is being buried in Orchard Park, N.Y. He was murdered while working to end the violence in Sudan.

John Granville was nothing like the ill-prepared young people Robert L. Strauss describes. During his Peace Corps service in Cameroon from 1997 to 1999, he was so successful and well loved by the community that he was given an honorary title by the chief of the village.

He returned to Cameroon as a Fulbright scholar to research culturally appropriate approaches to H.I.V. prevention. When I visited him that year, we took many walks through “his” village. It could take hours — every few houses or so, neighbors waved us over to exchange greetings and news. He was welcomed because he understood something about living and working internationally that Mr. Strauss seems not to have grasped — the value of human relationships and the importance of being willing to learn.

The Peace Corps is not just about what “fresh out of college” Americans can teach citizens of other countries. It is an opportunity for Americans to prove to the world that hubris is not the defining characteristic of our country.

While Mr. Strauss worries about how America can fix other nations, former Peace Corps volunteers like me will be putting to good use the skills we learned during our service. We will be listening, learning and sharing anywhere in the world we’re still welcome.

Karen Greiner
Athens, Ohio, Jan. 9, 2008

•

To the Editor:

Maybe Robert L. Strauss should talk to the average person in the countries the Peace Corps serves. In my work outside the United States, I am always surprised when people ask me questions about things that are taken for granted by Americans.

Why, I’ve been asked, do Americans wear shoes in their houses? What is the Dow Jones (or who is Dow Jones and why is he average)? And is root beer alcoholic?

The value of the Peace Corps is that people in other countries who may never have seen a foreigner are happy for the opportunity to ask questions directly to an American.

Robert Wong
Khartoum, Sudan, Jan. 9, 2008

The writer is deputy political counselor at the United States Embassy in Khartoum.

My response:

I think that Robert L. Strauss greatly underestimates the young people of our time. It's true, volunteers such as he described "fresh-out-of-college" do exist and I fit nicely into that category. But, to label us all as "lacking maturity and professional experience" is a naive generalization at best.

College graduates these days have much more to offer than simply a degree in their chosen fields. Many universities require students to gain work or volunteer experience before graduation. Graduating from college no longer promises a good-paying job. Graduates are finding more employers are looking for something extra in addition to a college degree. Every year, graduates become more competitive as they add more to their resumes in hopes of landing a job.

There's something else that volunteers of today can offer that volunteers of Kennedy's 1961 could not. Diversity. I'm guessing the demographics of volunteers serving in 1961 were fairly uniform. Volunteers today are constantly trying to disprove the stereotype that all Americans are white. The volunteers of the 21st century physically look a lot different then the original volunteers of 1961.

Although I, too, agree with the Peace Corps' initiative to increase its over-50 crowd, there is something to be said for young volunteers. We're fresh, we're enthusiastic, we're willing to take risks, and most importantly, we're eager to find an outlet to meaningfully serve.

-Jenny

Now You Too Can Cook Moroccan Cuisine!

2008-01-13T06:21:00.001-08:00

Yes, for those of you who have ever paused and thought to yourselves, "What WILL I make for dinner tonight?" Here's your answer! This January you will get the chance to try out Moroccan recipes in your own homes. You know how most months have national themes, like "Aids Month" or "Black History Month"....well, this month I have decided my blog theme will be "Recipe Corner in Jenny's Kuzina." Or as you call it, The Kitchen.

Today's lesson can be prepared for breakfast, lunch or dinner! How convenient, you might be thinking! And not to worry if you don't have the proper "Moroccan cookware" or "tajine" as they are called here. You can make do with a regular baking dish!

Jenny's Egg Tajine

You will need:

3-4 tomatoes, skin peeled and chopped
4 eggs
olive oil or argan oil (mom and dad, that is the liquid inside the peanut butter jar that is sitting on your kitchen countertop)
3-4 cloves of garlic, chopped
cilantro, chopped finely
cumin
coriander
salt and pepper
peas: optional

To prepare:

Don't forget to peel the skin off and chop the tomatoes on a plate so the juices are retained. Chop the cilantro, or if you prefer, parsley. Chop the garlic and saute it briefly in a fair-sized pool of olive or argan oil. Add the tomatoes, cilantro or parsley, coriander, cumin, salt and pepper. I usually just grab a few pinchfuls of the spices, so don't be shy. Cook until thickened but still saucelike. (Optional: add a handful of peas before adding the eggs.) Carefully break the eggs into the sauce, each egg in its own "corner" of the dish. They might seem to stay liquid a long time, but that's how it cooks. The eggs will be done when the yolks are gelled on the bottom and a little runny on top. Sprinkle the eggs with more cumin and serve!

To eat:

Either with hands or forks. I break up bread and scoop up the food onto the bread, but you could eat it with a fork and have break on the side. Or, figure something else out!

Let me know how this one turns out for you and good luck! Stay tuned for next recipe.

Explaining Santa Claus

2008-01-08T15:20:00.000-08:00

**Spoiler Alert: Anyone under 10....this is a fantasy story with no factual basis.

I worked at the Dar Chebab Saturday night and about fifteen kids showed up for Youth Cafe. The new Connect 4 from America was well-received. After the Youth Cafe I went out to Nadia's (my 21 year-old host mom) village. Everyone was really excited to see me and we had a good time looking at my pictures from home. They thought the snow looked beautiful and asked a lot of questions about why my dad drives a pick-up truck. (Apparently only farmers drive them here and that's why there are so many of them in town)

One of the pictures I brought back was of the three stockings hanging by the fireplace. This picture started a very interesting conversation about Santa Claus. Only Nadia knew about Santa Claus because last year when I was living at her house I gave her Christmas stockings and told her about Santa. At the time, she told me maybe Santa would make a stop in Morocco...the next morning there were chocolates in the stockings! Surprise!

This year, as I started talking about Santa, everyone else in the family actually thought that Santa was a REAL MAN who came into people's homes to deliver presents! Nadia's sister was relentless in asking me HOW this man got into everyone's houses? Did he have keys? Did he break-in? How did this work? Then, when I told them he climbed down through the chimney they were SHOCKED. My host grandma kept saying, "Jeenee, don't lie. Are you lying? How does he do that?" I told them all about the cookies and milk and was leading them on for a while, but finally I had to stop and admitted that Santa wasn't a real man, but rather the parents pretended he was and did his dirty work. My grandma was the most shocked and scolded me for lying. But they all laughed and admitted it was a good idea to keep children from misbehaving at Christmastime. Then, like ten minutes later Nadia's brother came into the room and the whole thing was repeated again. His sister tricked him into believing that Santa Claus was real. His mom tried to set him straight, but since he missed the entire explanation I think he still might be a little confused about the whole thing. They really liked the part about how if you're bad you get coal in your stocking. They asked if I'd ever gotten coal, to which I said, "No, I was always a good girl." And they thought that was really funny for some reason.

Happy New Year from Morocco!

2008-01-05T07:20:00.000-08:00

How does that olde lange syne long go? "Should old acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind ?" Well, that sums up life pretty well. The last time I posted I was anxiously awaiting my trip home to America. Looking forward to meeting up with those old acquaintances, enjoying all things American, and basically living the good life. And live the good life, I did. Here’s a quick list of things I accomplished while home:

· Spending loads of time with my family

· Eating/drinking the following: Snacks. Mexican food: enchiladas, burritos, Spanish rice, refried beans, chips and salsa. Mom’s cooking: anything. Sandwiches: meat, cheese and veggies on bread, Subway sandwiches. Drinks: lattes, margaritas, pop, cider, wine, beer. Cereal. Ice cream. String cheese. Chocolate chip cookies. Christmas goodies. Buffalo wings. Ham. Salad. (Note: salad almost added as an afterthought)

· Meeting with friends.

· Seeing movies: The Golden Compass and Charlie Wilson’s War.

· Playing games

· Enjoying central heating

· Enjoying cable television with American programs

· Sleeping in my old bed

· Reading newspapers in English

· Driving cars

· Visiting Jane Addams School

· Wearing any clothes I felt like wearing

· Looking at the snow (while enjoying the central heating, of course)

· Christmas with all the family

· Seeing Brayden, Owen, and Otto

· Going to a Christmas play

· Speaking at a women’s group and elementary school about Morocco

· Strolling the aisles of Target and Walmart

· Cooking a Moroccan meal for my family

· Scheming travel plans with friends and family

· Visiting Sara at Gustavus

· Visiting Megan in St. Paul

· Going out at night

I probably forgot a lot of other important things, but you get the point. Now, moving on to things I missed most right away:

· My family

· Central heating

· My luggage (still waiting…..)

· Convenience

Not bad. Excluding a few friends I didn’t get to see, I pretty much accomplished everything on my list of to-dos while home. Coming back “home” to Morocco was easier than I thought. The hardest part has been adjusting to the time difference. The first day I came home, I napped for four hours in the afternoon, woke up, walked outside my house, and was whisked away to a birthday party for some girl in the town garden. We sat outdoors under a tent and waited a long time. There were many cakes and bottles of pop and somebody was working on getting music playing. Then, a wire caught on fire and everybody was screaming and jumping around. Luckily, somebody had the idea to wrap the wire in scotch tape (good idea? Not sure) and soon the dangerous wire was quickly forgotten. I sat for a good three hours and then returned home.

Sleeping and not sleeping for the past two days is all a blur. I slept about twelve hours the first night and the second night I didn’t fall asleep until 4 am (11 pm in Minnesota) and woke up today around 1 pm. Tonight, I plan to take some Benadryl before going to bed.

Waking up this morning still without my luggage and now with my cell phone battery dead, I was determined to find somebody to bring me to the airport to pick up my luggage. Of course, this plan failed. Without any phone numbers, I had to walk around a lot ask around for phone numbers. I had two leads this afternoon but neither panned out. I think tomorrow I will maybe have a chance at going in the morning. For some reason, the weather is a major factor in all this. Today it rained and people were more reluctant to travel. I really could use my luggage about now. I have no warm clothes at my house. Not many toiletries. Not much money. One pair of shoes. And none of my American goodies. And no internet. I need to renew my internet but have been too busy with this luggage debacle to get the recharge card.

It’s cooled off considerably here. Very chilly. I have one blanket in my house that travels with me wherever I go in my house. I make a lot of tea.

In between my sleeping and not-sleeping during the day, I’ve been busy going around town and talking with people. As usual, the whole town knew I had been in America, and was happy to receive me back into the community.

Here is a usual exchange:

Person in my town: May peace be upon you

Me: And peace upon you, too

Person in my town: With God you arrived

Me: God arrived me

Person in my town: How did America find you?

Me: It found me beautiful.

Person in my town: Really?

Me: Yes, really. It was very beautiful.

Person in my town: How is your family? Is everything good to them?

Me: Everything is good to them. Thank God.

Person in my town: Thank God. You didn’t bring them with you?

Me: No, but God willing they will come.

Person in my town: God willing.

Me: May God help you.

Person in my town: May God help you, too.

Me: Goodbye

Person in my town: Goodbye now (just kidding, they don’t have the equivelant of “goodbye now” here, but I may try and introduce it)

And as expected, everyone in town, including the taxi man and strangers, want to know if I brought them back a gift. I laugh, and say to them “God willing.”

18 Days!

2007-11-29T04:00:00.000-08:00

Just gotta get this out first - I'll be home in 18 days!!

Now for the update. Since my last post, I've been a busy busy bee with all my English teaching. Today is one of my busier days: the morning is open, but this afternoon I play with the toddlers at the Neddi Niswi (women's center) for an hour (we played duck, duck, grey duck last week and they loved it!) then teach English to the women, then lead women's exercise at the Dar Chebab (youth center), and lastly run over to the Dar Talib and Dar Taliba (House of Boys and House of Girls) and teach English or fun activities for an hour. Phew!

The Dar Talib and Dar Taliba are similar to boarding schools, except the kids only live and eat there and attend school in town. The kids who stay there, are usually from villages very far away with no transportation, so they stay at the center during the week and return home for the weekend. The Dar Talib is home to 69 boys, ages 11-20. I always have fun there, but they can get kind of wild. It's hard to teach them English because they are all at different learning levels, so I usually lead some kind of game or activity. Their favorite game is "heads up, seven up" which we renamed "Good Morning." The Dar Taliba, on the other hand, is home to only 31 girls, and much more calmer and manageable. The girls are younger than the boys, ages 11-16, because around 15-16 girls begin dropping out of school. This is due to a lot of societal pressures, like helping around the house, getting a job, getting married, or sometimes because the education of girls is valued less than boys. One thing I have noticed about the girls, is that there is a definite hierarchy to the group. Where the boys just kind of mill around, playing or laughing, the girls seem to each have their position in the group. There are the older girls who are like mothers and protectors for the younger girls. And the younger girls hardly ever talk out of fear of being laughed at by the older girls. The older girls are actually a bit scary to me because they are very bossy and take-charge kind of people. Sometimes during the middle of a game, the alpha female will yell at me "NEW GAME." I usually don't stand for that kind of behavior though, and have asked her if she knew what the world "rude" meant. But, on the whole, the girls are very well-behaved and fun to teach.

After finishing up at the Dar Talib or Taliba its usually too late for a girl to be out alone at night, so a very nice man walks me home. He lives with the girls at the Dar Taliba and is probably around 60 years old. He is a bit unusual for Moroccans, because he has a pet dog. I can't remember the dog's name, but its something like Oscar. As we slowly walk to my house, the dog follows us and we talk about, what else, dogs. He seems convinced that American dogs are much more beautiful than Moroccan dogs, and I agree. The dogs here are are wild and I don't blame Moroccans for being so frightened of them. They run around in packs of twenty, looking for food and I would never want to be caught in their path, especially at night. When I first moved into my house, I would wake up in the middle of the night to the sounds of dogs fighting over the contents of my trash can. The next morning, all my trash, and I mean ALL my trash, would be scattered all over the road. Embarrassing. So, I learned to only take my trash out at the exact time the trash man comes. Also, I have seen people rummaging through my trash as well...so I figure the fewer animals and humans to come in contact with my garbage, the better.

It's been cooling down lately and at first it was a welcome change from the smoldering heat of summer. But, now, it's just too darn cold. I have been wearing long underwear and scarves INSIDE my house to keep warm. Also, making a lot of soup and tea. I have to wonder if it's really that cold or if I've just acclimated to the Moroccan climate. I remember being cold during my homestay a year ago and it was a bit ridiculous then because I was a guest in somebody's home and couldn't just walk around in layers of clothes with hats and scarves. But, now, in the comfort of my own home, I can do whatever I like! Wear blankets! Have tea whenever I want, not just at tea-time! Lay in bed!

Anyway, I hope the Minnesota winter isn't too much of a shock! I'll be home December 16-31. Any friends interested in getting a burrito or a margarita, let me know! I hope to make it back to Jane Addams School for a night, too.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2007-11-20T03:55:00.001-08:00

On Sunday, I celebrated Thanksgiving with a group of fellow volunteers. Since the actual holiday falls on a Thursday and is (duh) not celebrated in Morocco, we had to meet on the weekend. I woke up early in my town, got ready, and left by 8 am. I traveled about 2 1/2 hours by taxi to my friend Mandy's house and helped out in the kitchen. I worked on the garlic mashed potatoes, while others pitched in on the salad, green beans, stuffing, and the turkey. The turkey was purchased by Mandy from her host family. They delivered it to her, dead, but not as you buy yours from the supermarket. After spending a night alone with the dead bird, Mandy requested her family help her out a bit. They chopped off its head and feet and de-feathered it for her. Mandy had a pile of feathers in her kitchen when we arrived and we all festively wore them (after a good washing with bleach).

Mandy put the turkey in her tiny little electric oven around noon and basted it with chicken broth. We decided not to stuff the turkey with the stuffing because Chase is a vegetarian, so we made the stuffing later. Since there was only one oven, the pies and dinner rolls were made the day before and the stuffing was made last. I brought lemon bars that went with the pumpkin pie and chocolate pie. Everyone helped out in the kitchen and those who didn't, did the dishes later.

We ate dinner around 5 or 5:30 and after digesting for a while, we all went up to the roof for the ceremonial "tossing of turkey carcass over the roof." Everyone had been drinking wine so it seemed like a good idea at the time. Gavin heaved the carcass over the roof as we all watched. The pack of stray dogs in town must have ate well that night.

Returning downstairs, I pulled out my "pin the tail on the turkey" game and we sat around discussing the rules. With twelve people and only ten tails, we had to make a tough decision. Some of us thought it a good idea to vote two people out of the game, Survivor style. But, others thought it best if we all partnered up. In the end, we made two extra tails so everyone had a chance to play. We set up one room for the game and announced the rules. "Blindfolded. Five spins. NO SHAKING. Audience in the "gallery" may shout out directions to player, but wrong directions may be given, so think about who you trust." The first player was the hostess, Mandy, who went the wrong way down a hallway and ended up losing the game. We all had a really good time playing that game.

We also played card games and Mafia. Mafia is where you pass out cards and depending on which card you receive, you have to play out a certain character. There is Mafia, who "kill" people in the game, the Sheriff, who investigates, and the Doctor who can save lives. All the others are townspeople who are trying to win the game before the Mafia kill them all off.

All in all, it was a great Thanksgiving and I am thankful I was able to celebrate the holiday with such a fun group of volunteers. We had good food and good company. I will be thinking of you all back home on Thursday as I am leading my women's group in exercise and teaching English.

Have a Happy Thanksgiving and check out my new photos. See you all in less than a month!

A life of convenience

2007-10-27T02:53:00.000-07:00

Last night was an important milestone in my life here. The supermarche opened downstairs. It is directly downstairs from my house. I can smell that familiar Moroccan hanut smell and Tide laundry detergent wafting up. I saw that is was open yesterday, walked in and when I did, the store owner said, "Jin! Say to me "Bismillah!" So, I said "Bismillah" which means "in the name of God" and we shook hands. It's like I gave him my blessing for his new store. Then, I walked slowly through the store, taking it all in. All the important food items in my life are there: diet coke, popcorn, pistachio yogurt, and the fake cheese. They don't have real cheese yet, and that's the one thing that would make me happier. I asked about it. I am also going to ask them for granola, red beans, and American chocolate. Then, I will never have reason to leave my town. This morning I woke up, walked downstairs in basically my pajamas along with my red Spiderman plastic house slippers and bought yogurt for breakfast. That was cool.

What was totally unexpected and weird was the girl who was working behind the counter asked me (albeit in French) if I worked for the Peace Corps. I was so surprised because nobody in my town understands what the Peace Corps is, not even my boss, so for somebody to ask me about it was really shocking. Apparently, she had worked for Peace Corps a few years ago in Ouarzazate and asked me if I knew a girl named "Stacy." This happens to me all the time. As if I would know all foreigners in this country because I am one myself. She said Stacy left Morocco a few years ago, so no, I don't know her.

After all, tomorrow is another day.

2007-10-20T15:03:00.000-07:00

I cut my finger while doing the dishes tonight. Last week I had broken a glass in the sink and thought I had collected all the shards of glass, but one still remained stuck inside the drain. It was a pretty deep cut and after wrapping it in toilet paper I hurried to the town hospital to see if stitches were needed. Of course when I arrived, the hospital was closed. I took note of a group of men drinking tea outside the hospital and, as I suspected, one of the men sauntered into the hospital a little while later. That was the doctor.

Here begins my experience with the health care system in Morocco. Besides the hospital being closed when I arrived, I would give my experience there an overall high rating. I wasn’t sure if the hospital would even be open at 6:30 pm on a Saturday evening, but I had a feeling it would be open. I wasn’t asked my name or if I had insurance. (Not that that would matter here because everyone who lives here has free health insurance!) I showed the doctor my finger and mumbled in my pathetic Arabic that “I did something to myself.” He brought me into another room and told me to sit on the bed. I ignored what looked like droplets of blood and sat down. He put on plastic gloves and rubbed iodine on my cut. He still didn’t ask for my name, but he did ask me where I lived. He asked me if I could speak French and laughed when I told him I only spoke Arabic. He then quizzed me on my knowledge of the Berber language. I told him I didn’t know anything, but when I produced the right answer for the word “bread” he said I was already practically fluent. He put some mystery cream that looked like peanut butter on my cut, wrapped it up, and that was it. When I asked him if I needed to pay him, he laughed at me and said, “For a little bandage? No, I didn’t do anything.” Thanking him, I left feeling bewildered. How different that was than anything I’ve ever experienced at home.

I had another little surprise earlier in the day, too. There have been two men knocking down the wall in the apartment next door. I had just adjusted to the idea of the dentist working next door to me and now this? After two days of constant hammering and pounding and jumping over piles of concrete, I asked them what they were building. Where there had been one big apartment, they were making a wall to divide the apartment into two apartments. I asked if they knew who would be living there and the first guy didn’t know, but the second guy was pretty certain a gendarme (policeman) would be moving in. (nooooooooo!!!) Feeling forlorn, I walked downstairs to bitch to my friend in the bakery. Before I made it there, I ran into my muldar (landlord) who had no idea what the other guy was talking about and assured me that nobody would be moving in any time soon. He said the other guy was just “talking.” Hmmm, a common phenomenon here. I have learned to not always put stalk in all the things people tell me here. It’s about saving face. Rather than giving somebody a potentially wrong answer, or admitting you don’t know, you make something up.

I them made it to the bakery, watched the Addams Family with my friend and was about to leave when an old Berber woman walked in. She yelled to nobody in particular, “A Christian! That’s a Christian!” (Calling somebody a Christian is just an old-fashioned way of pointing out a white person) I was a little annoyed because it was the market day, which meant that the town was full of people who liked pointing and laughing at the American girl. I smiled at her and greeted her in Arabic to which she exclaimed to, again nobody in particular, “She speaks Arabic!” Then I’m pretty sure she was making fun of me when she asked if I could send her to France. I told her it wasn’t possible for me to send her to France and she asked me why. I told her I didn’t even have enough money to send myself to France, so she’d have to find another way. She then asked me if I prayed. Since Ramadan, I have been asked this question a lot. Especially when people learned I was fasting, their next question would always be about praying. When they ask this, they don’t mean just praying to God, they mean praying 5 times a day with prostration. I usually respond to this by saying, “I pray, just not like how you do.” Usually people respect this and move on. Today was a different story. The woman in the bakery did not understand why I wouldn’t want to be a Muslim. I finally told her that I believe in one God and that it’s the same God she believes in. This seemed to appease her. At this point, it should have been pretty clear to her that I could speak Arabic fairly well, so when she turned to her friend and called me “ugly” I got a little mad. I asked her why I was ugly and she laughed and said I was beautiful. Whatever. She then pointed at my clothes and said I was a good dresser. This comment really caught me off guard because if any of you know a thing about dressing in Morocco, you’d know that it’s not easy for me and it’s one of the things that stresses me out the most. Also, she had just called me ugly. I was dressed pretty conservatively that day with a baggy long-sleeved top and flowy pants. I think she was making fun of me the entire time we were talking, but I can’t be sure. Today was just one of those days, I guess. Some days are harder than others and this definitely was a day that tested my patience.

After all, tomorrow is another day! As Scarlett said in Gone with the Wind, and as my friend Jackie reminded me the other day.

It's Called Common Sense!

2007-10-11T14:05:00.000-07:00

So, big news in the neighborhood. I'm getting a new neighbor. When I first learned this, I was very disappointed and hoped it wasn't true. I like my little sanctuary here. I can escape here and enjoy the small pleasures my life here allows, like listening to American music, exercising on my roof, or walking around in a tank top and shorts. My landlord told me it would be a man and his wife.

Then, a few days later as I was talking to the man who owns the bakery downstairs, I found out that it wasn't a man and his wife, but rather a dentist, or "doctor of teeth" as we say here. So, instead of gaining two neighbors who would be infiltrating my world, I am instead getting a man, his professional place of business, and his entire clientèle. Great. There is one door downstairs that opens up to a flight of stairs and three apartments. Basically, from now on, anybody off the street will be able to gain access to my house.

If this totally upsets my way of life here, I will move. Moving would have its perks. I would find a house located on a less-frequented road. Find a little peace and quiet. But, hauling all my stuff across town and readjusting to a new house sounds unappealing.

So, today I was feeling a little better about the situation. I had a good talk with the tooth man, who told me not to worry or be scared. Then, immediately following this conversation, he left and locked me inside of my house. Prior to this, I had told him to be gentle with the lock to the outside door. I had finally perfected the right touch to opening and closing it and had warned him many times about how tricky it could be. A few times I would catch him jamming his key in and jiggling it around. Then, today he broke the lock, locked me inside and ignored me when I told him that jamming the key inside wasn't going to solve the problem. Together, me on the inside and him on the outside, we finally opened the door. He said right there and then he was going to buy us a new lock. I went back upstairs and half an hour later returned to check on his work progress. He was gone and the door had been left wide open. I closed the door, probably locking myself inside again, went back upstairs and waited and three hours later am still waiting.....

Back in time for Ramadan

2007-09-29T15:20:00.000-07:00

After some work-related traveling, I'm back in my site with two more weeks of Ramadan to go! I tried fasting and lasted about five days. It's hard! No food or water from 5 am until 6:30 pm! It was a good experience because I learned what it must be like to go hungry all day and also understand better how the Moroccans must feel during this month. I wish I could have stuck it out longer, but I couldn't.

The first day of Ramadan I spent fasting with my extended host family. I rode my bike out to their douar (village) the night before Ramadan began. We ate spaghetti for dinner and went to bed around 11:30 pm because we would be waking up very early the next day. Around 3:30 am a siren went off to wake everyone. The women got up and started preparing the last meal before the official fasting began. Everyone else, including myself, woke up around 4:00 am to eat a tajine. It was very strange eating a heavy meal at 4 in the morning. I drank as much water as I could and brushed my teeth before crawling back into bed. At 5:00 am we heard the first call to prayer (there are five each day) and the first day of Ramadan began. While my family prayed together, I was trying to fall asleep, but found it hard with the full tummy and all the thoughts spinning through my mind: would I be able to last all day? What was I getting myself into?

I finally fell asleep and slept in until 10:30 am. Usually the first thing I do in the morning as part of my daily routine is drink a big glass of water, but not that day! I basically spent my day lazily counting down until breakfast at 6:30 pm. I watched arabic television, tried reading Harry Potter, took a two hour nap, played with my two host twin cousins, and helped prepare the breakfast. Around 5:00 I couldn't even stand anymore without feeling light-headed, so I sat and waited. At that point, I felt no hunger or thirst, mainly just emptiness.

At the call to prayer signifying the end of fasting, I ran into the salon where my host cousin stood smiling and handed me a date. It is tradition to break the fast with dates, so I ate three. Then I chugged a ton of water. My host grandma yelled at me and said I shouldn't drink too much water because it would fill me up and leave no room for food. Ha! The first thing I ate/drank was hirara. Hirara is my favorite soup in Morocco! It is only served during Ramadan and is so delicious. Its a tomato-based soup with lentils, chickpeas, cilantro, lemon, and pieces of meat. I had one and half bowls. Then I ate a hard-boiled egg, which I seasoned with salt and cumin. After that, shebekia. Shebekia is another Ramadan special, and another favorite of mine. It is a cookie that is very very sweet and made with tons of honey and sprinkled with sesame seeds. After all this wonderful food, I was feeling full, but that was not the end of our meal. Next, they brought out a giant platter of baked and fried fish. I tried to eat as much as I could, but I was so full! After being scolded by my host grandma for not eating enough fish, they brought a heavy yellow cake. Then, we all drank a coffee.

While everyone was munching happily on Ramadan goodness, we watched the Moroccan tv channel. Besides the food, this is another favorite Ramadan past-time of mine! During Ramadan this channel shows special Moroccan shows that I can actually understand because they are speaking Moroccan arabic. Normally, most shows are in French or Standard Arabic, so this as a language-learner, this is an exciting time to see if all those tutoring hours are paying off! Last year, my favorite show was "Multaxi." The word Multaxi means taxi driver, so the show featured a Moroccan taxi driver and all his crazy adventures. Unfortunately, this show was canceled this year. Probably the best show this year is one called "L3awni" which means God help me. It is a show about a man whose name is "God help me" and his family and each episode they cook up some scheme that ultimately fails or surprisingly succeeds. There is another show about a woman police officer who specializes in forensics, its kind of like CSI, and probably the only Moroccan show that somewhat resembles an American sitcom. They talk fast and use a forensics-themed vocabulary, so that show is harder to follow.

Once everyone was good and full, almost everyone went to the mosque to pray. They were probably gone for two hours and when they returned I went home. I was exhausted and wanted to get back to my house because the next morning I would be leaving early for Fes. Around 10:30, 11 or midnight, depending on the family, dinner is eaten and then everyone goes to sleep and the whole process is continued! Talk about a total change in your sleeping/eating/working pattern! My first day of Ramadan, I didn't eat dinner because I was still too full from breakfast.

The next morning I began my two-day journey to Fes, where I gave a presentation for the newly arrived group of volunteers. They had only been in country for one week and still seemed to be adjusting to the shock of being in Morocco. (Which I still am, to this day!) After my presentation I had a meeting in Rabat. I'm the representative for my training group in the Volunteer Support Network, so I sat in on a few meetings and now find myself back in my town, looking forward to getting back to work with my kids at the Dar Chebab!

Guest Post from Megan

2007-09-16T15:52:00.001-07:00

Safely back in Minnesota after an incredible 2 1/2 week vacation with her in Morocco, I'm writing this guest post for Jenny. The purpose of the post is to let you all know what we did on our adventure and to give you my impression I got of Jenny's life over there.

After arriving in Agadir, I walked across the tarmac to enter the airport and go through immigration. I passed onto the baggage claim, where I needed to collect my backpack and the suitcase of presents for Jenny, before I could dash out to hug Jenny. My backpack showed up quickly and then I waited anxiously for the suitcase. All I wanted to do was run out to where Jenny was waiting to greet her but I needed the luggage first. It then became apparent that there were no more suitcases coming. I should say that I know NO French or Arabic, the languages that makes things go in Morocco. Someone pointed me towards an office where I was ignored as everyone else with the appropriate language skills were helped first.

My first lesson about Morocco began here: there is no concept of a line. Whoever is the pushiest (elbows are allowed) and most assertive will be served first, according to Jenny. After everyone cleared out, it was me and one man remaining. He knew a very little bit of English so I wrote down my address in the US and gave him the baggage ticket. I kept trying to tell him that my sister was just a few feet away and could speak Arabic, but he did not understand. Frustrated, I took a piece of paper from him and hurried out to FINALLY greet Jenny. After a good hug, I told her what happened.

My second lesson about Morocco followed: Jenny knows an amazing amount of Arabic and this helps make things happen. She marched up to the security guard and before I knew it we went the wrong way through customs and security back to the little office and the man who helped me. Jenny and him talked and she got the whole story. Lesson two continued when Jenny translated for me and said that before he explained things, she first had to have "the conversation." Even though I know no Arabic, throughout the trip I began to recognize this conversation that Jenny had with, oh, maybe, 8,000 people. The Moroccan would be shocked and amazed at Jenny's Arabic and ask any combination of the following questions: "Where did you learn arabic?" "Do you live here?" "Where do you live? Then followed by a name-nearby-Moroccan-cities game. "What's your name?" "Who's that? She doesn't know any Arabic? (pointing at me) "What are you doing here?" And the occasional, "I have a relative in 'insert US state here' comment." When this conversation happened at various market stalls or hotels, Jenny was frequently told she was getting a better price because she spoke Arabic so well. So I was able to tell my dad that we were really saving a lot of money on the trip :)

Jenny and I spent the first few days on our trip at her site. This was probably my favorite part of the trip because I got to see Jenny's apartment, where she works, where she buys her chicken, meet her host family, and the people in her life there. Her town was actually a little bigger than I expected, even though it is still very small. There is a large road that goes through it directly to an airport so there is a lot of traffic and that makes it seem busier and bigger than it really is. Her apartment is really nice and she's made it very homey. She made me a neat welcome sign that made me feel at home right away. Even though Jenny told me she's a bit of a celebrity in her town, I only truly believed her upon arrival. So many people approached her on the street to greet her and I quickly learned lesson number three.

Lesson number three: Jenny is well taken care of in Morocco. She has many host family members, Peace Corps friends and Moroccan friends that were constantly checking up on her. One time the police in her town even called her because they didn't know for sure where we went. Even though we had told them a day or two before that we were leaving to travel around. It was very reassuring to see so many people caring about Jenny. I was able to help my mom relax when I came home and told her all of that.

After time in Jenny's site, we began our travels through Morocco. We hit the following cities: Agadir, Marrakech, Essaouira, Marrakech again to get to Rabat, Tangier, and finally Chefchouen. My favorite cites, and I think Jenny's too, were Essaouira and Chefchouen, in case anyone is still hoping to visit Jenny. I liked Essaouira a lot because it was on the ocean and was a smaller city that was really laid back. There is a type of music called Ganoua music that comes out of Essaouira that is a fusion of jazz, reggae, and Moroccan, that attracts a lot of hippies. There was a mini Ganouwa festival there while we were there that we got to see and hear. Chefchouen is way in the north of Morocco in the Rif Mountians. This city was also a really laid back small city that didn't attract a lot of tourist, but a lot of travelers.

Jenny and I talked about the difference between a tourist and a traveler. Tourists tend to come in large groups, wear stickers with their tour company name on it, talk loudly in a foreign language not spoken in Morocco, and they don't go off the beaten track or try anything that's not in the Lonely Planet book. Travelers however are generally younger people who don't stay in one city during their vacation but rather travel to see unique places in a country that are maybe lesser known. Anyhow, both Essaouira and Chefchouen had awesome shopping opportunities, another reason I liked them so much. A lot of buildings and sidewalks are painted this bright blue color in Chefchouen that gives it a clean, fun look.

I could go on forever about our trip as I have two and a half weeks of great memories to share. If anyone would like to hear more, just ask because I'd love an audience to share everything with. I will also try and post some photos from the trip to help Jenny out.

One Year in Country!

2007-09-03T10:48:00.001-07:00

September 12 marks the day I first arrived in Morocco! I can hardly believe that a year has passed by so quickly! Time passes in funny increments here. Long moments, long days, and long nights, followed by quick weeks, quick months, and quick travels. Summer as a whole, just flew by. I spent a month at the summer youth camp, returned to my town for a few days, and then spent the next two weeks traveling with my sister Megan.

The trip with Megan was a blast. There were many times when I was reminded of my first impressions of Morocco a year ago. Megan helped me remember how quickly things happen in the United States. Here, time is a minor detail. An invitation for lunch may mean sitting around for three or four hours. Getting people organized to do something can take an entire week. Going to the “chicken man” may mean waiting for him to butcher the chicken, clean it, and chop it up for you. Running errands can take hours if you stop to talk to everyone you meet on the street. Washing laundry is an entire day of work. Cooking everything from scratch is the evening’s meal and entertainment.

Being here for a year now, it really is the amount of free time I enjoy the most. Because cannot leave my house past sundown (for cultural reasons only) every night is my special time to do whatever I feel like. I have a crafts corner in my house now. I try new recipes. I read books for fun. I clean my house for fun. I sit and think about my life here. I sit and think about my future and where my life will lead me next. I daydream stories, travel plans, work ideas. I think when I return to the United States, it will be these moments of complete solitude I will miss most. Of course, the quantity of complete solitude is one of the most challenging things to deal with as a Peace Corps volunteer.

These contradicting blessings and burdens are the most important lessons being a Peace Corps volunteer has taught me. The things I find the most difficult are usually the very same things that reward me most. Learning Darija (Moroccan Arabic) has been probably the most challenging thing I have ever done in my 24 years of life. But, at the same time, the most rewarding thing I have ever accomplished. The greatest compliment I can receive here in Morocco, is when a Moroccan congratulates me on learning Darija. Understanding and finding my place in my community has also been testing, but those moments when my hard work brings forth rewards, I couldn’t be happier. One day as I walked past the taxi stand in my town I overheard a Moroccan man say to another, “Who is that?” To which the other guy replied, almost bored, “Oh, her? She’s one of us.” I walked with a smile on my face that day. Finding work in my community continues to be both easy and tough at the same time. Teaching myself how to cook by trial and error has been both tiring and satisfying. I have grown so much this past year and still have so much growing ahead of me – fifteen more months of service to complete.

Of course, Megan brought with her a little bit of a reality check! She was never slow to remind me of how my living alone has made me a lot more chill. And let’s face it, probably more weird! But, still the same Jenny. Our trip together was one of those times you will never forget as long as you live. Showing Megan my world here almost verified it for me as, indeed, my life. She met the everyday people in my life: the chicken man, the taxi man, the garden man, the people at the Dar Chebab (youth center), my host family, my friends. She experienced the routine details of my life: She ate the food I eat, she heard the language I speak, she suffered through the heat, she ate with her hands, and yes, she squatted on my Turkish toilet.

Megan has promised to write a guest entry on my blog recapping our adventures together from her perspective, so I won’t go into much detail about our trip in this letter. She took most of the pictures on her camera, so you all might have to wait a while to see them posted online. Maybe I can convince her to post them for me, as my internet is much slower than the DSL you all are used to!

As I reflect back on my first year in Morocco, I am happy with what I have accomplished and eager to do even more work this coming year. I understand now why Peace Corps is a 27-month commitment. There is no way a person could learn the language, cultural norms, and do development work in their community within a year’s limit. The first year really is about settling in, learning the language, and learning your place in the community. This next year I feel finally equipped with the knowledge necessary to begin my real work here: youth development.

Thanks to all of you for your support. Thanks for the emails, the cards, the care packages, and prayers. Just to reassure you all, I am doing great here. I have a nice house, I cook good meals, and I have friends and people who look out for me in my community. Also, for those of you who want to visit, I urge you to start making your travel plans! You only have one year left to come to Morocco in order to experience something totally unique! Marhaba bikum f Dar 3ndi! (You are all welcome at my house!)

Also, if you haven’t heard from my parents, I am planning on coming home for Christmas this year. I should be around for two weeks, but don’t know the exact dates yet. So, definitely plan on treating me to an iced frappacino or burrito!

Peace to you all,

Jenny

Getting Ready!

2007-08-11T02:35:00.000-07:00

Last weekend I left camp and did a little sight-seeing on my way back home. I traveled through Essaouira, another coastal town between Casablanca and Agadir. I think Essaouira is my favorite city in Morocco. The city has a truly unique feeling to it, unlike any other Moroccan city. It's a port city, so there are old ramparts to go exploring around with a great view of the Purples Isles. While looking at the islands, I talked to a Moroccan man who was selling his paintings. I actually remembered the word for island and he told me about the islands. One of them has an old prison and mosque He also said the island was conquered by both the Phoenicians and Portuguese. Nowadays, it is home to a large falcon population. I was really surprised by how much of this conversation I understood.

I also enjoyed strolling through the souk area. The majority of the city is contained within its ancient medina walls. It is kind of cool to think about a time when people only lived within the walls, a time when people were fighting and protecting their land from the conquest of outsiders. The souk had some fabulous shopping opportunities. Because Essaouira is home to one of the world's largest music festivals, Gnawa, there is a huge artistic influence and tons of great little shops. I bought a new shirt, tote bag, and pair of Amazigh (berber) earrings.

Supposedly, there is an excellent fish market, but because of my poor little volunteer budget, I had to stick to the common man's food. One night while eating a falafel sandwich, the electricity in the medina went out. I was eating with three other volunteers and we sat there for a while in the dark, but then we realized that the chances of the lights coming back on were slim. We were imagining the souk would be very dangerous in complete darkness: people ransacking the shops, stealing pastries from the bakery, pickpocketing, etc. So, we came up with a plan: we would all walk in a line, holding on to the person's shoulders in front of us. If any stranger tried touching us, we would just punch our arms into the darkness. "Just punch!" So, we paid for our sandwiches and headed out into the darkness. What we found was a slightly less chaotic than we imagined, but still a functioning dark souk. So, the "just punch" idea went out the window. However, I guess the darkness gave Moroccan men more confidence, because I was verbally harassed more than usual.

I spent two days in Essaouira, then traveled by souk bus (big mistake!) to Agadir. I traveled with my friend Chase. Our first mistake was deciding to travel by souk bus, the second mistake was the seats we chose to sit in. On the sunny side of the bus, I was constantly battling with the curtain, wanting to see the fantastic views we were passing, but not wanting to die from the heat. Along the way, the bus pulled over for a lunch break. It was a little town up in the mountains that probably never sees any tourists (as most tourists are smarter than us and do not choose to travel by souk bus-the problem with these buses are that they stop at every town along the way to drop off and pick up people.) and stepping off the bus we found the closest hanut (store) to buy some cold beverages. We were greeted by a small group of teenage boys who were very interested in talking to us. We talked with them a bit, got a marriage proposal from the Mulhanut (store owner), and when it was time to get back on the bus, the boys asked if they could take a picture with us. We laughed and posed with them alongside the road, "Peace and Love!" we said as we all held up peace symbols and the letter "L". The boys asked some random guy to take our picture but this man had obviously never used a camera before in his life. He just pointed it in any old direction, not even aware of the viewfinder, and took pictures of the sky, our feet, and the road. We said our goodbyes and then were surprised to find the boys follow us onto the bus! It turns out they were leaving their town to travel down to Agadir for vacation. It was fun watching them on the bus because they were so excited as we passed everything and taking pictures.

I've been back in my site now for five days. My house was very dusty and hot when I walked inside. Since I got back, I've been cleaning, washing clothes, and rearranging furniture. I want my house to look the best it ever has because in just three days I will be hosting my first guest from America! My sister Megan will be coming for a long visit! We will spend some time in my town, see "the sites," meaning my house, Dar Chebab, my host family's house, the farm, and maybe the souk. Then, we will embark on a long journey north. Our itinerary will take us from the steamy south to the coastal beauty of the Mediterranean. I will make sure Megan takes plenty (and I mean hundreds) of pictures to share with you all when she gets back! Thanks Megan, you'll be doing half of my job educating the good people of the United States about Morocco and its people!

So, next time I post it will be September, so stay tuned!
Thanks to everyone for their continuing support!
Jenny

Still at Camp!

2007-07-31T03:00:00.000-07:00

Hi Everyone!

It's been a while since my last post, but I have been extremely busy at the summer youth camp! I have been here for a month now and will be leaving in two days. In the past month, I have worked two camp sessions. The sessions take a lot out of us volunteers because we work very long, busy days.

Here is a normal day at camp for the volunteers: wake up for breakfast (bread and butter with coffee) at 8am, prepare for morning announcements at 8:45, English classes from 9-10:30, go to beach from 11-12:30. Lunch (tajine with bread) at 1:30. Free time (hanging out with kids, reading with them, making friendship bracelets, playing music, sports) 2-3:30. 3:30-5 American Club time (I taught arts and crafts both sessions), 5:00 snack (mint tea and crackers or piece of bread), 5:45-7 Moroccan activities (usually sports), 8:00 Dinner (the worst meal, consisting of soup (sometimes made out of flour and water) and usually weiners in tomato sauce. Or pasta. And usually served with a mini-cup of yogurt). 9-11 Evening activity (Moroccan or American led) 11:00 BEDTIME!

Last night was probably the best evening activity I've seen at either of the camps. We put together an American Halloween Night. Everyone wore costumes, we made a haunted house, and had activities like bob for apples, face painting, and trick-or-treating. The kids had a blast! I worked in the haunted house and scared kids. I hid behind a sheet that looked like a wall and grabbed people and screamed at them. The best part of the night was when the grounds keeper, an old man who lives at the camp and sees to its upkeep, was prowling around the exit to the haunted house and when he poked his head in to look around I grabbed him through the sheet and screamed at him. He stumbled backward with his mouth open, and quickly walked away. Then later on, the Moroccan camp coordinator walked through the exit and I scared him as well. This didn't go over as well. He glared at me and then another Moroccan counselor said, "Hshuma 3lik" which means shame on you. C'mon, it's Halloween!

Today and tomorrow are the last days of camp. We will have a final spectacular tomorrow night and then Thursday morning the kids will all leave. I will be leaving as well. My friend Chase and I plan on doing some traveling together on our way back home. We haven't decided where to go yet, but it will definitely be a beach town.

When I get back to my site, I'll be busy unpacking, cleaning, and getting ready for Megan! My sister Megan will be visiting me for two weeks in August! Yippie! If any of you back home would like to send something along with her to give to me, now is your chance! I posted a wish list a few months ago and recently I gave my parents an updated list.

Please check out my online photos! I have posted some from camp! Sorry I have not been very good about my blog posts or sending emails. Once I get back to my site, after Megan's trip is over, I plan on being much better about sending real snail mail. This first year has been so busy, and I really wish I had sent out more real mail. This second year I will do better!

Keep me updated on everything on the homefront! Happy Birthday, Owen! Hope everyone is having a great summer! See you soon, Megan!

summer update

2007-06-22T10:32:00.000-07:00

Hello Everyone!

It's late afternoon and 85 degrees inside my house, with all the windows closed. It's hot, but not hot yet. A few weeks ago we experienced a heat wave with temps around 105, but it's cooled off since then. Sometimes it will be late at night, like 11 pm and my house is still so hot there's sweat rolling down my back, face, legs, arms. But, seriously, it's not so bad yet. Every time I complain to a Moroccan, they laugh at me and respond with, "it's not even summer yet."

So, I spent the last week and a half in Agadir at a training seminar for volunteers. I was happy to be reunited with the volunteers I trained in with back in September. We hadn't seen each other for six months, so there was a lot of catching up to do. Unfortunately, I got sick, so spent most of the time in my hotel room asleep.

I'm back at my site now and and still fighting off bacteria or stress or whatever it is that has taken control of my body. I will be here for another week working, or not-working if kids don't show up, and then it's off to the Summer Youth Camp! I am so excited to be working the youth camp. I get to escape the heat of summer and spend one month on the coast playing with kids on the beach. It's going to be great. It's probably going to be exhausting, too, but I got a taste of the camp experience at Spring Camp, so I am better prepared this time around.

I will work two camps, each fifteen days, for a total of one month. Then, Inshallah, my sister Megan will be visiting me during the month of August! I am already dreaming of the things we'll do together! Hopefully, traveling won't be so uncomfortable during the hottest month of the year, but we'll have to be prepared for anything.

Right now, I gotta do something about the fly situation in my house. It's a constant battle, but right now there are like eight tiny flies, I'm thinking newborns, and I need to find some orange peels to scare them away. I'll write more later!

Thanks to everyone for the packages, letters, emails, and support!
Love,
Jenny

New Pictures

2007-05-26T16:59:00.000-07:00

Check out the new pictures I posted. Yesterday I threw an end of the year party for my students at the Dar Chebab. About 12 showed up. Lately, the numbers have been dwindling, so it didn't surprise me. Besides, they are my best and favorite students, so we had a good time together.

Jack Chirac

2007-05-22T16:22:00.000-07:00

Today Jack Chirac drove through my town. It was a pretty big deal for all of us. I first noticed something different around 2:30 this afternoon. The usual hustle and bustle of the street below had died down to just a lone whistle being blown. I looked out the window to find the local "police" redirecting traffic, or rather, waving them over to the side of the road and asking them to please wait there. I hurried downstairs to ask my friend what was going on. She said Jack Chirac would be driving through today. So, we pulled up two plastic chairs and sat on the curb, waiting. So did the rest of the town. People lined the streets, looking to the west. After a while, a few gendarmes flew by on their cop-cycles, followed by some SUVs, a few Mercedes, and then one black limousine. I'd like to say that we all cheered as he quickly passed by, but it was more anti-climatic than that. After he passed, the guy next to us at the chicken store asked us, "daz?" meaning, "he passed?" to which, I replied, "iyea, daz."

the beast

2007-05-22T16:15:00.000-07:00

For Jenny, the other night was the same as every Saturday night. Quiet. She did all her usual Saturday night activities, which sadly just include popping popcorn and eating it while reading a book. Nothing too out of the ordinary. She got ready for bed and just as she sat down on her bed, she heard the most unsettling noise coming from inside her house.

Meeeeoooow.

Not being a cat-loving person or owning one of her own, Jenny bolted into action. She raced out of her room, threw on her plastic house slippers and grabbed what she thought would be her best defense against this intruder. The broom. She quickly raced out the front door and into the hallway, rapping the broom against the walls.

Meeeeoooow.

This time it came from the stairway. She flicked on the light switch and sprinted up the stairs, still rapping the broom against the walls. As she made her ascent to the roof, she heard its cry once more from above. It sounded like a very old, dejected cat. When she placed her first step onto the roof, fear caught in her throat as she finally laid her eyes upon the beast. Obese and filthy, its haunted eyes looked directly at Jenny.

Both beast and woman recognized one another from their initial stumble upon earlier in the week. (On that particular morning, the beast had startled Jenny as she had hung her clothes. Both terrified of each other, the beast jumped from the roof onto a neighbor’s window and departed.) As they stared into each other’s eyes, cat and human were stuck in some kind of inter-species face-off.

Finally, breaking from the cat’s eerie hold on her, Jenny ever-so-slowly glanced down towards the cat’s paws and saw it. The dead cat head. Ever since moving into her house, Jenny had been working up the nerve to dispose of the disgusting vestiges of this cat skull. Its skeleton had long since departed, but somehow only its old lifeless cranium remained. Attempts had been made at removing it, but each time some odd occurrence would unfold. The first attempt Jenny was unable to locate the skull. The wind seemed to blow it all over the rooftop and sometimes, the skull would be missing for days at a time. And for this reason, Jenny feared the skull and chose to ignore it from that day on.

However, it seemed the beast had other plans for its fellow deceased feline friend. Scooping the skull into its jaws, the beast took one last look at Jenny with its yellow eyes and jumped from the roof onto an old television antenna and scaled its way up to the adjacent roof. Then with a flick of its, tail, the beast departed into the night.

Still clutching her broom, Jenny took a deep breath, closed the door to the roof and headed off to bed. Exhausted from this freak encounter, she quickly fell to sleep.

Days later, Jenny once again made her way up the stairs with a load of wet clothes ready to be dried. With her arms full, she struggled to open the door without dropping any of the clothing. Making her way over to the clothesline, Jenny tripped but kept walking and turned her head around to get a look at what had caused her to trip. Probably a clothespin. Panic jolted her as she looked down and saw it: the dead cat head.

It had returned.

???Questions???

2007-05-20T03:10:00.000-07:00

This week marks six months at my site and eight months in country. With all this knowledge and wisdom, I am giving you all a chance to ask me questions! Ask me anything at all, and I will answer it. Questions about Morocco, the people, the religion, the food, the language, etc. No question is a stupid one. For example, "Jenny, I heard people do not use toilet paper there. Is that true?" Yes, that is true and on a number of occasions I have been forced to do the same due to my own lack of planning and being at others' homes. So, I am sure you all have loads of questions stored up, so get busy!

Marriage Proposals and Converting to Islam

2007-05-16T03:46:00.000-07:00

Just a quick post today before I run over to the Dar Chebab to teach!

Yesterday at my adult english class we had some extra time so spent the remainder of class speaking in Arabic, so I could get some extra practice. This class is all men, mostly thirty to forty years old. They made it very clear that they do not want me to ever leave this town. They said when I try to leave in 2008 they will go on a hunger strike in protest! Then, they told me that I should live the rest of my life here and should marry somebody here. They asked if there was anybody I liked, and when I said no, they said they will just put their names in a hat and I will draw a name and the winner will get the prize of me as a bride! Haha, funny, but I think they were partially serious because they told me to think about it and get back to them. Not so funny!

Then, after class I sat with the girl who works in the bakery downstairs and she tried convincing me to marry a Moroccan man AND convert to Islam. She said I am more than welcome to join Islam and she would be worried about me when I die if I don't convert.

Okay, that's it for today - I have five minutes to get to the Dar Chebab! I will write more later, and I might be getting internet at my house...maybe today! Cross your fingers!

MEGA UPDATE!

2007-05-06T04:23:00.000-07:00

It’s been way too long and some of you are starting to harass me with emails asking if I am still walking amongst the living. Time has been speeding by, and the months of March and April have come and gone already. Here is what I have been up to the past two months:

Spring Camp

New Program at Dar Chebab

Trip to Spain!

I was at Spring Camp for almost two weeks from the last week in March to the second week in April. There are spring camps all over Morocco for youth and the camp I participated in was an English immersion camp. It was collaboration between a Moroccan and American staff. The PC Volunteers were responsible for teaching English and leading clubs. I taught the advanced English class and my students were brilliant! We talked about utopia! Most of my students were between the ages of 11-15 and they really impressed me with their command of the English language. I also helped out with both the yoga club and the arts and crafts club.

The best part of camp was that 24 kids from my town attended. Only one of the campers was a student of mine from my English classes; the rest of the campers were new to me and it was a great opportunity to get to know them and get them excited about coming to the Dar Chebab in our town.

Now, because of the new friends I made at camp, I have a new program starting at the Dar Chebab. My weeks are going to be really busy from now on, which is great, and I am excited to get started. I am offering my English classes, as usual, but in addition to that, I am starting a fashion club, game club, jewelry club, girls’ aerobics, and music and dance club. The fashion club had its first official meeting last week. In attendance were four boys and five girls and we made designs for outfits by cutting up pieces of paper and gluing them together. There is one boy in the fashion club who I like to call my little diva because he is the reason the club exists. I am not sure where this fashion club will take us, but the kids have tons of ideas and I have a few as well, so it should keep us busy. I am a little nervous about dance club, because the kids want me to teach them "how to dance like hip hop" and I am not sure what that entails. But, I figure, I convinced myself that I am a skilled aerobics instructor, so why not dance, too? Eeek!

After less than a week spent at my site, I packed up my backpack again and took eight days of vacation! As a volunteer I accrue two days of vacation for every month serves, so I took almost all of my days and met my friend Jackie in Spain. We met in Madrid and traveled to Barcelona together. It was great to see Jackie after such a long time! It was my first time to Spain as well, and I was really impressed with Barcelona. Madrid was okay, but I thought Barcelona had more to offer.

Now, I have been back at my site for about a week and a half and am keeping busy with the new clubs. When I returned from camp, I found my Dar Chebab was under construction! My classroom had been torn down and in its place a newer and bigger classroom is being built. I am really happy about this, but currently, it is causing some problems because I no longer have a classroom to teach in and have been holding classes in a nearby Diabetes Association. Hopefully, the construction will end shortly, but it is hard to tell. People give me all kinds of answers and usually they involve the phrase "Inshallah" meaning "if god wills it." So, god willing, we will have a new classroom open next month! I am crossing my fingers! Come on, Allah!

Today was just an ordinary day in my town. I went to the Dar Chebab for fashion club and nobody showed up. Very typical. I stood outside waiting for about half an hour and then gave up and walked to the store. I love shopping in my town. There are hanuts (stores) on every block, but I have my favorite hanut that I visit weekly. It is my favorite because of the people who work there and also there is a really good selection there. I can find cereal, real cheese, tri-color pasta, and skim milk there. But, even if the selection was less, I would still go there, because the people are so friendly. When I enter, the man behind the counter happily greets me and as I make my way through the store, I am greeted by two or three other workers. Walking the ten feet to the back of the store, I am closely followed and handed a shopping basket, which is kind of special. No other hanut hands out shopping baskets. Then, as I stand in front of any of the four shelves, I ponder what I should buy while the workers stand loyally nearby. Today I stood in front of the tea selection and within 30 seconds, and was asked, “Do you want tea?” To which I responded, “Yes, but which one is zwin?” I know which one I want to buy, but I still like talking to the workers about the tea and which one they like best. Today I bought yogurt, cheese, tea, milk, tomato sauce, tuna and spaghetti. While the counter-worker totaled my expenses by hand on a piece of paper, another worker told me there was another kind of spaghetti that was much better and went back to retrieve the other kind. The grand total: 65 Durhams, or $6.50 US Dollars. Another great thing about shopping in Morocco is if for some reason I didn’t have enough money to pay for my groceries, they will just write down my total in a small notebook and whenever I want I can return and pay them. Some people only pay once a month or so.

On my way home from the store, I heard my name being called and turned to find a girl running towards me. I couldn’t remember where I had seen her before, but it soon came back to me. A long time ago I went for lunch at a girl’s house who lived an hour walk outside of town and this was her friend. After that day, every time I ran into Fahida, she would try to shanghai me into going to her house. Usually, I accept invitations for lunch, but bad timing has always made me decline her invitations. One time she got me as far as her front door and begged me to come inside, but I absolutely had to go to work. So, today was the day for lunch at Fahida’s house. She latched on tightly to my arm, not wanting to lose me this time, and we walked to her house.

At the house I was greeted by her mom, and realized I was in for a treat. I am still and probably always will be a bit of a novelty here and people are just amazed and thrilled when they learn I can speak and understand Arabic. Such was the case today. Fahida’s mom expressed her delight by petting my head, slapping me on the back, and poking my stomach like the Pillsbury Doughboy. After finishing lunch, she insisted that I didn’t eat enough and told me that I must have a smaller stomach than Moroccan people. I assured her, that I had a healthy appetite. Then, we got into talking about oranges, which is what everybody talks about here. My town is known for its oranges. Apparently, she works at the orange factory in town and ran out of the room to grab her hair net and sticker gun. She demonstrated on a bowl of oranges on how she wears her hat and how she puts the Maroc stickers on the oranges. She insisted I take a few of the oranges home with me. No matter how many oranges I have in my house, it is never enough! After the orange demonstration, she grabbed a photo album. This part I never understand: showing a perfect stranger all six of your photo albums. Every time there was a picture of her, she would grab the photo and put it right under my nose and laugh as she said, “that’s me!” It was kind of funny, but weird because she was a grown woman wearing a hair net with Maroc stickers stuck to her shirt. After picture hour, we sat on the floor and watched Fahida’s mom whip a towel at the flies. Now that the focus was off of the pictures, I once again became the center of attention. My stomach was poked again. Then my zits were pointed at and I was asked why I had them. Then my freckles on my arms were pointed at and asked why I had those. Then the hairs on my toes were commented on because they are blonde. Time for freak-show Jenny to get on home, I thought.

Trying to leave, I was adorned with oranges, bread, a ring, and a necklace. On the way down the stairs, Fahida’s mom grabbed her breasts and pretty much flung them over her shoulders. She is a very fat woman with very large and seemingly, noisome breasts.

After safely making inside my house, I retired to my salon for a post-lunch nap and was interrupted by somebody knocking on my door. I grudgingly make my way downstairs and found three little girls who wanted to bring me to their house and do henna on my hands. I had to politely decline because I needed to go to work in an hour. They are very sad and begged me for a drink of water. So, I let them in, they drank their water, and then they left. Back to the nap, I was twice interrupted by text messages and finally it was time to get up and go to the Dar Chebab to teach English.

This is just half of what an average day is like for me.

New Care Package Ideas

2007-03-12T06:35:00.000-07:00

Flip-flops from Old Navy size Small 5-6
Cami tank tops with the built in bra
Wife beaters white or grey
The cheese packs from Mac & Cheese (I can get noodles, but cheese is sooo expensive)
Spices: dill weed, lemon grass, tarragon, cayenne, curry powder
Vanilla extract
Peanut butter
Posters for my classroom
Anything you come across that you think I could use to teach English.
Magazines: People, US, Cosmo, The Economist, ANYTHING, just not Newsweek because PC sends it to me for free.
Books! Anything.
DVDs! Again, anything.
Maps: US, World
Whiteboard markers
Podcasts! If you don’t know how these work, ask Megan. NPR or anything you come across. I am really out of touch with world events, so even a podcast from a month ago would be a current event for me.
Music! I did not bring enough music to this country. I have no television, so music is how I fill the quiet in my house. Send me anything. Mix CDs or just burn me copies of CDs you have and like. I am not picky.
Fun pens, markers, tape, paper, anything I could get creative with.
Aloe Vera gel
Haircutting scissors and haircutting razor, Hairstyles magazine
Scented candles, or tea lights
Facial scrub (the kind that deep cleans pores)
Facial masks
Guitar music for Dixie Chicks songs

Umm, and as much as I love receiving candy in your packages, I really shouldn’t be eating that stuff. I am getting really fat here and it doesn’t help to have massive quantities of candy scattered throughout my house. Healthy snacks like dried fruit would be a good substitute if you want to send me snacks. And believe it or not, Morocco has candy, too.

The Man in the Mirror

2007-03-12T06:14:00.000-07:00

Hey Everyone! I can’t believe how long it has been since my last post! I will try to be better about that, but for the most part, my life is pretty much the same every day. That being said, I had quite the adventure this past week. Last Thursday I left my site and traveled across the country to the city Ouarzazate. I took a souk bus, which was a new experience for me. A souk bus is a bus that goes across the country, but stops at every and any little town along the way. The bus itself was really old and stuffy. Moroccans have this thing about not opening windows when it’s hot outside. Babies, beggars, animals, and just about anything is allowed on a souk bus. I had a guy try to sell me a watch.

On the way to Ouarzazate I realized half way there that there was another white person sitting on the bus. I stared at her trying to figure out where she was from. Most tourists here are European, but she looked different. The hooded sweatshirt is usually a giveaway that the person is American. And since there are practically no American tourists here, I usually assume the American is a Peace Corps volunteer. So, I asked her, and sure enough, she was a PCV and on her way to the same training session I was going to! So we chatted a little bit and before we knew it we had arrived in Ouarzazate.

If you have ever seen the movie Babel, then you know what Ouarzazate looks like because it was filmed there. Brad Pitt actually went to a volunteer’s site near Oz while he was filming and asked a hotel owner if the PCV was in town, but she had left her site for some reason and she missed him! The PCV that lives there now says she will be sure not to ever leave her site in case Brad Pitt ever shows up again!

When I got to Oz, I met up with Elly, another YD volunteer and she showed me around the city. Then we went back to her house and talked forever. The next morning (My birthday!) I went with her to her English class and then met up with Whitney, yet another YD volunteer, and the two of us went back to Oz while Elly ate couscous with one of her students. We sat at a café and talked and waited for Elly to join us. After a while, two SBD volunteers met up with us and the five of us took a taxi to the training site.

The training I completed is through the PC Volunteer Support Network. Basically, I am a counselor for other volunteers. I learned how to listen with a trained ear. If ever a volunteer has a problem, they can call me up and talk about it. It was a great training session and we had a fun group of people. When we weren’t training, we would go on walks through the palmery (it was a beautiful site) or lounge around reading magazines, talking, or watching DVDs. It was great to be around Americans. The host was an amazing cook and all our meals were incredible.

When we arrived at the training site, I had a little surprise! The girls had baked me a cake and we celebrated my birthday! It was really yummy, too. I feel really good about turning 24. I like to think that this year is going to be my best year. I just have so many adventures ahead of me that I am looking forward to experiencing!

The night after my birthday we experienced a lunar eclipse! It happened around 10-11 at night, so I doubt it was visible in America at that time. I heard that Africa has a better positioning for seeing a lunar eclipse, but I’m not sure why. Anyway, the eclipse was amazing. We all sat up on the roof and waited around for it to happen, singing songs and just watching the stars. We are PCVs, so it takes very little to amuse us! During the eclipse, I was amazed by how many more stars that became visible in the absence of the moon’s light. I could see stars right next to the moon that I had never seen before. And we saw so many shooting stars! It really was beautiful.

When we finished training, we piled back into a taxi to head back to Oz. The road was just beautiful, winding through the mountains, but I got so sick on the way there! I had to ride with my head in between my legs and I had a few close calls, but I made it safely without any incidents. The rest of the day, I felt pretty nauseous and had a few other close calls throughout the day. I spend the night at Elly’s and yesterday morning hopped on a returning souk bus. This time, I got a window seat, which was both a bonus and a problem. I could see the scenery better (and it is a beautiful road) but I had the sun to deal with. It was so incredibly hot! I don’t know how I am going to handle the summer. I really am dreading it. Everyone tells me that it slowly creeps up on you, so once it gets to 130 degrees it doesn’t feel any different than 100. We’ll see about that theory.

A Deluxe Apartment in the Sky

2007-01-31T08:57:00.000-08:00

I am just days away from moving into my new dar! Today a woman from Peace Corps came and gave me the go-ahead to move in. Before that happens, the water needs to be turned on and the sink needs to be reattached to the wall in the bathroom. I also need to buy a fridge if I intend on eating when I move in. Right now I don't care if I have to live off of crackers and water, I'll do whatever it takes!

The house is exactly what I imagined myself living in. It is very centrally located on the main road and only a few steps away from the taxi stand. It is on the second floor above a bakery. The smell of cookies is not too overpowering - more like one of those cookie-scented candles. And a warm croissant breakfast will only be a trip down the stairs! Inside the house there are two rooms, a kitchen and a bathroom. The entire house has beautiful Moroccan tiling on the walls. The bathroom has a Turkish toilet, but I can overlook that because my MulDar (House Owner) installed a shower for me and will soon install a sink. Because of this, I splurged and made a very expensive purchase: an electric water heater. And that of course means HOT SHOWERS! The kitchen is average-sized with plenty of countertop space, but only one electrical outlet, so the MulDar is rerouting another one into the room. Both the bedroom and the salon (living room) have balconies! This is really uncommon and I couldn’t be happier because that means I will have plenty of sunshine lighting up my house. The balcony in the bedroom is smaller with only a guardrail. The bedroom also has a window. The salon has the big balcony with double doors and enough space to place a few chairs, plants, and a grill on. I plan on grilling out a lot. Also, I am going to start gardening and maybe grow some herbs. Standing on the balcony, I can look directly across the street to the Neddi Niswi, the women’s center I work at. I joked around with my Moudir that if there’s ever a time I’m not felling well, I could just wave at them and yell, “I’m too sick today!”

There is a staircase to the roof, which is huge and completely private. I told Megan I am going to buy some hand weights and run laps around the roof pumping my arms above my head while listening to my music…and I’ll add while wearing a swimsuit. That’s how private it is.

So, this week I will slowly move my things into the house and on Sunday I will buy my fridge. I was planning on buying a fridge in town but there are not any smaller ones available and the price is much too high. So, that means I need to go out of town to find a better deal, but because I can only travel on Sunday-Monday I need to wait until Sunday. Do-able. That’s only five days away.

I can’t believe how incredibly lucky I have been finding things to furnish my house with. I need to give a huge thank you to Reema, a former PCV who donated most of her belongings to me. From her, I got an oven/stove, three couches, a table, pillows, and tons of kitchenware. Thank you, Reema! My host mom is giving me some of her old plates and things and the rest I needed I bought last weekend at the souk. The only thing I can think of needing now is a dresser or something to keep my clothes in. And maybe a bookshelf.

So, think of me on Sunday and know that I will be dancing around my OWN house with the biggest smile on my face. Frhana Bzaf!!

30 January 2007

On Becoming the World's Strongest Woman

2007-01-17T06:28:00.000-08:00

So, I need to fill you in on Becoming the World’s Strongest Woman. Basically, its tough to be a woman in Morocco. I am stuck somewhere between a woman, a tourist, a baby and a man. Because I’m a woman I am hissed at, men yell crude things at me, and sometimes throw rocks. I am told by the women in my community that this happens to all women, but I’m not sure if I entirely believe that. Because I’m a white woman, they think I am the most beautiful person ever created, which can feel great, but mostly just sucks because it makes the men do and say ridiculous things. Or I just look like a freak and people laugh at me with their mouths hanging open. This, I can handle. When some stranger points and laughs at me, I usually just laugh too, because I know I must look ridiculous to them and it probably is funny. Because I am white, people think I am French and yell things at me in French like “Bonjour Madame.” When I go to the store, I am often spoken to in French, which I don’t understand, and even after asking for a price in Arabic, the storeowner may still talk to me in French. It’s frustrating. I don’t speak or understand French! I only know Arabic!

I have only been living in my town for a little over a month, so many of the people think I am a tourist and wonder what on earth I am doing here and when I will be leaving. I am the first non-Moroccan to live in this town. In time, they should get used to me. And, because my language skills are very basic, I am treated somewhat like an infant. Don’t let the American walk alone today! I saw the American today and her hair was wet in the sun, so that must explain why she got sick! But, the one benefit (I think) of being a white foreign woman here is that I do have more freedom than the woman of this town. So, that makes me a little more like a man. I can leave my house, number one. I can wear whatever I want (but no tank tops, shorts, or any low-cut tops) and talk to whomever I want. And I do not have to wear a veil.

Okay, so back to the regime I’ve started. A lot of the women volunteers I have met have become very jaded and I refuse to let that happen to me. Instead, I will focus on Becoming the World’s Strongest Woman. This is the new mantra I repeat in my head whenever something irritating happens or I feel like I have no control. I think to myself, “This will make me stronger.” And then it doesn’t feel so bad, it feels good, like I am improving myself. So, that is the mental aspect of the regime. The physical aspect is to get into shape so I can feel more confident. If I can walk every day, eat good food, and stay well-rested, I think this will help. And the good news is that I am not harassed all the time. Normally, I can laugh about it and just walk away. Sometimes a few days or even a week go by without harassment and I feel great, but sometimes there will be many instances crammed together in a short amount of time and that’s when I feel frustrated. And that’s when the mantra comes in handy. Please don’t feel bad for me or think poorly of my town. Harassment is a fact of life here for women and it is not specific to my town or people. It exists for cultural reasons that I am only beginning to understand, so please be patient as I figure these things out. I just want you all to know that I have a very positive attitude about this and the other volunteers are very supportive of each other regarding this aspect of service, so please don't worry!

Engagements, Weddings, and the Haj

2007-01-17T06:20:00.000-08:00

During and after the holiday L-Eid, many families also celebrate engagements, weddings, and the returning of the Hajja. I hit it big because I got to attend one of each of these events. Backtracking a few weeks before L-Eid, there was a huge party at the farm because there were four family members going to Haj. Haj is what Muslims call Mecca and to make the pilgrimage to Haj is the most meaningful event that could happen in the life of a Muslim. It’s like a Christian visiting Jeruselem, but not really. Although I think it would be a big deal in the States, I don’t think it could equate what I saw and experienced here. Before the people left, a huge party was thrown in their honor and it seemed hundreds of people were in attendance. An honored guest trained in leading prayers was there, but unfortunately I was unable to see him because he was in the men’s room and I being a woman was not allowed to take a peak.

Before the Hajjaj (the plural of people who have gone to Haj. The singular for a man being Haj and a woman Haja) returned, we were at the farm waiting. It was very late and a weeknight and so I was nervous about getting enough sleep so I could teach the next day. Around 9:30 pm somebody got a phone call and said the Hajjaj were on their way to the farm, so everybody quickly got dressed into their fanciest clothes and went outside to wait on the stairs. When the cars rolled into the farm, everyone started singing this song that they sing at weddings and started clapping. As soon as the car doors opened, everyone went running to the cars and hugged and kissed the returning family members. The Hajjaj were wearing white from head to toe.There was a woman throwing perfumed oil on everyone’s clothes and heads and another woman with special incense, throwing the smoke onto your clothes. Other women held platters of fake plastic flowers and dates above their heads. Everyone was crying and it was very emotional and unlike any religious experience I have ever witnessed.

While the Hajjaj were in Haj, there was an engagement party in the family. One young man of the family was to be engaged to a young woman who lived in town. The whole family put on their fanciest clothes and the women loaded platters of gifts above their head and sang the traditional wedding song while walking to the cars. The platters included gifts for the bride: clothes, shoes, bath items, cookies, candy, lots of stuff I can’t remember, and the special platter with the dates and two chalices of milk. With all the gifts, we loaded into the cars and one woman rode in the bed of a pick-up truck with all the platters. We drove into town honking our horns to the bride’s house (which turned out being only a block away from my family’s house in town) and unloaded the platters, started singing the song again, and walked into the house. We were anointed with the special oils again and were seated in this really small room, where we laid the gifts out and waited for the bride to come. Only the women sat in this room. The men were somewhere else with the groom. While we waited, we listened to music and danced a little. We mostly sat, drank tea and ate cookies. When the engaged couple entered, we sang the song again and then we all took turns getting our picture taken with the bride and groom. This went on for a very long time. Most people didn’t have a camera there, so I ended up taking a lot of pictures for the people who wanted to stand with the couple but had nobody to photograph them. I’m not sure why I took all those pictures. After the picture taking, we ate dinner and the bride and groom left and I’m not sure where they ate. Then after dinner they returned and we watched the groom and bride feed each other a date and a sip of milk. This is really symbolic and I have to admit, I’m not entirely sure why this is done. Then, they exchanged rings and the groom gave the bride many gifts like a necklace, bracelet, watch and earrings. After this exchange was over, the couple threw candy at us women and I have to admit, I only got half a stick of gum because the women were pushing each other around trying to get their hands on that candy, so I just kind of backed away, trying not to get knocked over. There were some men peaking in threw a window, so the groom threw some candy out the window for the men. Then, with our fists full of goodies, we loaded back up into the cars and drove back to the farm. Only, I think I went home to the house in town. I had to teach in the morning and it was something like one in the morning, so I was tired.

The day the Hajjaj returned, the bride’s family had a wedding at their house. This time, we only brought one gift for the bride: a suitcase. One woman carried it above her head and presented it to the bride by placing it in front of her feet. There were many people inside this tent off the side of the bride’s house and music playing from a cd player. We showed up, took more pictures, and danced a little. Then, we left. It was a weird night, but I do know the purpose of that wedding was to bring the bride home with us to the farm. The bride disappeared with the suitcase and came back with it filled and also five other suitcases, said goodbye to her family, and got into a car with her new husband to move to her new home at the farm.

The next day I spent almost all day at the farm. There was a huge lunch in honor of the Hajjaj and the wedding. It was a catered event and probably one hundred women were present in the women’s room. I don’t know where the men’s room was, but it’s safe to assume there were just as many men if not more present. Throughout the whole day, the bride sat in her bedroom and waited for women to come inside to greet her. I walked inside, and while greeting one of her attendants, accidentally kissed her on the mouth because we both moved our heads at the same time while trying to kiss cheeks, so that was kind of embarrassing, but I’m guessing it’s not the first time that has ever happened in the history of Morocco. I greeted the bride and she gave me an assorted handful of goodies: an almond, a half a stick of gum, a date, a taffy, and a piece of straw. I didn’t know what to do with the straw, so I threw it on the ground later on when nobody was looking.

I returned to town to teach an English class, and came back to the farm for the wedding at the groom’s house. I got dressed into the fanciest outfit yet and walked into the wedding tent. Two hundred women, at least turned their eyes to look at the funny-looking blonde girl wearing Moroccan clothes. I sat with the women of my family and watched a group of women drumming, singing, and dancing. Almost immediately, the women started asking me to dance. This always happens to me at any event! They are really curious and excited to see me dance. This time I was a little shy because of the size of the group and said no. They persisted. An older woman asked me, “What is your father’s name?” I said my dad’s name in America is Brian. She tried to pronounce it, but couldn’t so she exclaimed, “Brahim!” and I said, “Yeah, Brahim.” Then, I watched her whisper something to a woman drumming and sure enough, after the song finished, this woman YELLED to the room “Jamila bnt d Brahim! Aji! Shtah!” Which means, “Jenny daughter of Brian come dance!” I was really embarrassed and all the women were looking at me and smiling and nodding their heads. I said no, I can’t dance and they insisted I must because that is the traditional way to ask somebody to dance and it would be rude to say no. So, I stood up, and pulled a few girls along with me and we danced. It was fun, and I tried to forget that all the eyes on the room were watching me. This is something I guess I will have to get used to.

After lots of dancing and clapping, we ate dinner around 11 pm and as soon as dinner was over, everyone went home. I spent the night at the farm and in the morning I returned to town to work. Then this past weekend, I met up with some volunteers in Agadir, enjoyed the beautiful beach weather and spent the night at another volunteer’s house in a town not too far from mine.

L-Eid Kbir

2007-01-17T06:14:00.000-08:00

L-Eid Kbir was the craziest holiday I have ever experienced. Let me first give you a little background on this holiday. In Morocco, “L-Eid Kbir” means the “Big Feast.” All the Islamic world celebrates this day by sacrificing a sheep. The sheep is sacrificed for all the sins made during the last year. Every family must have its own sheep and those who can’t afford one can buy a lamb or sometimes an animal is donated to the poor families. On the morning of L-Eid the men rise early, dress in their best clothes and go pray at the mosque. Then they come home, eat breakfast, and wait until the King has killed his sheep. When the King’s sheep is dead, the head of the family kills the sheep. Then the sheep is eaten in a way determined by local tradition.

Leading up to the holiday, I had a little miscommunication with my Moudir about when I was supposed to work. He told me that nobody would be coming before the week of L-Eid or during so I could take a holiday break. The next day I didn’t show up and the other Moudir called me to ask where I was and that I had thirty students waiting for me in my classroom. I ran to the Dar Chebab, quickly pulled a lesson out of my ass, and taught my class. Turns out, I was supposed to work that week. Two days before L-Eid the students stopped showing up and I also noticed he taxi stand in our town had never been busier. People were hitchhiking, hopping into pick-up trucks, orange trucks, the back of mopeds, pretty much anything to get them to where they needed to go.

Saturday December 29 (the day before L-Eid) I went with my family to the farm and waited for the big day to arrive. Sunday was probably one of the strangest, but memorable days of my life. I witnessed a sheep slaughter, ate lung kebabs, and just saw a lot of blood and animal parts being tossed around. I was at the farm where close to thirty people live. Since the family is so large and because they are one of the wealthier families around these parts, we slaughtered three sheep. I did not witness the first slaughter because I was eating breakfast with the women, but I did see a young boy walk by carrying a decapitated head dripping with blood, so that quickly ended breakfast for me. Because of the weird gender roles here that I'm still trying to figure out, the women were not allowed to participate in the slaughter, but that did not stop me from watching from the rooftop. Most families in Morocco allow everyone in the family to participate in the slaughter, but things are different at the farm where the women work very hard all day long cleaning and preparing meals for the men.

Back to the slaughter: after the sheep's throat was slit, I watched it struggle for what seemed a very long time. It was a slow death and there was a lot of blood. The sheep didn't really die until its head was fully decapitated. Then, the men took the dead body and hung it from its hooves with a rope. What they did next still puzzles me, and maybe some of you hunters out there can shed some light on the reason why this was done, but the men took a hose that is used for filling air in tires and crammed in the sheep's butt and blew the body up like a balloon. Next, they skinned it, so maybe the air was used to get the skin loose? Anyway, after it was skinned, they hacked it up into a lot of pieces and after a while I stopped watching.

For the rest of the day I sat with the women outside and watched them prepare the meat. The first thing they did was make the lung kebabs. These were not my favorite, but I ate one. After the kebabs, it was really fascinating to watch my host aunt prepare the heads to eat. She threw them on a fire to burn off the hair and then she took this giant axe and hacked off the horns. Then she fried them a bit more in the fire and told me she would put them in the refrigerator to wait until they cooked them. For the rest of the day I worried about those heads and what would become of them but at dinner we had a regular tajine (kind of like a meaty stew) without head.

That night was pretty boring. I taught some of the kids how to play Uno and so we played until we noticed the movie Titanic was on tv. Let me tell you something about Moroccans: they have a very strange obsession with Celine Dion. I hear her music everywhere! At the cyber, at the store, and always on tv. So, it seemed quite fitting that at exactly midnight, as I was silently celebrating the new year, the movie ended and the song My Heart Will Go On played. Everyone in the room got very serious and starting singing along, trying to get the words right, and I found this all really funny, so I started pretending I was serious about this song too, and pretended to sing into a microphone with my eyes closed, but nobody laughed. After the song ended, I went to bed. Kind of an anticlimatic new year.

At breakfast the next morning, I was a little nervous when I saw that we were eating tajine. Tajine is not usually served at breakfast. My instincts were correct when I saw what was inside the tajine. Some unrecognizable sheep parts mixed together with what I could recognize as the sheep's private parts. I was offered some sheep testicles and politely declined, so some other woman snatched them up and devoured them. I was brave enough to dip my bread into the meat juice, but even then I felt a little ill. One of my fellow volunteers here said to me the other day on the phone, "You'd think eating all that sheep stomach would digest nicely in my own stomach, but for some reason the two stomachs just don't seem to be getting along in there." I agree with him completely.

I have pictures posted of this day.

Hello! I'm Back!

2007-01-17T06:13:00.000-08:00

Sorry I have been AWOL lately, but the last few weeks have been filled with holiday gatherings at the family farm, teaching and not teaching at the Dar Chebab, and lastly being sick and lazy for a while.

Things that you need to be updated on:

L-Eid Kbir
The Wedding
Becoming the World’s Strongest Woman

Santa Claus ... in Morocco?

2006-12-26T03:54:00.000-08:00

Last night when I got back from Agadir, I gave each of the girls in my host family a Christmas stocking. At first they smiled and said, “oh, cute!” but then they looked confused and one girl asked me, “why do you give me this small sock?” So, I then explained to them the mysterious wonder that is Santa Claus. They thought that was a great idea. As I was going to bed, my host mom asked me, “where is your stocking?” I said I had one up in my room and she told me I should bring it down just in case Santa Claus would come. I laughed and said okay. This morning when I woke up I came down for breakfast and found that Santa Claus had delivered four small pieces of candy. Sukran, Santa! Later on, Rabyaa, my host cousin, said to me, “I really don’t think there is a Santa Claus. How did he get into our house last night?” I laughed and asked her, “Did you hear him last night?” She said no, she hadn’t heard him and walked off, looking perplexed. That Saint Nicholas and his tricky ways!

Make Sure you check out the new photos I posted! Click on the link "my pictures"

Mass Chaos with Chase

2006-12-13T05:26:00.000-08:00

Sunday afternoon I met up with Chase in Agadir for what we thought would be a totally chill weekend. What we experienced was more like mass chaos. Things started off quite normally. We met up with Dan at Souk l-Hdd in Agadir, did a little bit of shopping and afterward enjoyed ourselves at a nice little Danish pub. Up until this point, everything was mellow. Dan wanted to catch a soccer game on the tv, so we left him there to hit up the Marjan before leaving Agadir.

After Marjan, the cosmos began spinning out of control. We arrived at the taxi stand in Inezgane and waited forever to get a taxi to Chase's site. I was planning on spending the night at Chase’s site, so I was traveling with her. There was one man in our taxi was absolutely insane. He was practically sitting on my lap and was really irritating me because he kept trying to talk really close to my face and it was making me super uncomfortable. Later on, Chase opened a bag of chips while we were waiting and he helped himself to a big handful. We ignored him for most of the ride, although that did not stop him from trying to talk to us.

When we arrived at Chase's site, we got out of the cab and it was shortly after this point that I realized my cell phone was missing. I searched through my backpack and could not find it anywhere. Now, I am not blaming that man in the taxi, but I am pretty sure I had the phone when we got into the taxi, and he definitely had a few screws loose, so I would bet money that he is the person who stole my phone.

For the evening, I decided to forget my troubles and enjoy a nice time at the house of Mandy, Chase's sitemate. We tried calling my phone, but nobody answered and I feared the batteries would soon be dead. We decided to try to track down the lost cell phone the next morning.

The next day started off slowly, but by the end of the day, had spun out of control. After we awoke, Mandy and I walked to the taxi stand to ask about my phone. The multaxi had not seen or heard of a lost cell phone.

At this point, I gave up on finding my cell phone and decided I would need to buy a new one that day. So, Chase and I decided to head back to Agadir. First, we both needed to stop by the post office. I exchanged some American dollars to floos, Chase checked her mail hoping to find a check from Peace Corps. Leaving the post office, a European-looking elderly man in a very fancy car rolled down his window and asked in English if we needed a lift somewhere. He took him up on his offer and got a ride to the taxi stand. He was a 75 year old man from France who drove fast. Next, we flagged down a taxi and away we went to Inezgane. From Inezgane, we taxied to Agadir. In Agadir, we decided to find some pizza for lunch and thought Pizza Hut sounded like a good idea. We got in a petit taxi and told him to take us to the Pizza Hut on the beach. The man did not have a clue, drove us in a big circle and dropped us off one block away from where he picked us up because we saw the Pizza Hut. We decided we weren’t going to pay him the full amount and he was really nice and refused our money.

Lunch was heavenly. I think I might write a letter to Pizza Hut and thank them for bringing their chain to this country. We had pepperoni pizza! Pepperoni! That is major Hshuma (shame) here because it is a Muslim country and people are forbidden from eating pork products. After the Hut, we splurged on a gelato. Then, we did something really silly and paid to take a tour of Agadir on this incredibly cheesy looking train. While sitting on the train, waiting to depart, a man from across the street waved at me and said, “hello, teacher!” It was one of my new students from the Dar Chebab. Great, now he will probably tell my entire community that he saw me in Agadir riding that stupid tourist train. The tour was okay at best. We saw some gorgeous hotels that we will remember for when our families visit.

After the tour, we hailed a taxi to take us to the area near the taxi stand so I could buy a phone. Coincidentally, the taxi driver remembered us from the day before when he took us to Marjan. He was very helpful and drove us to a cell phone store owned by his friend and waited for me to buy a phone and then would take us to the taxi stand. I bought a very nice phone and while we were walking out of the store, Chase’s cell phone rang. It was somebody asking to speak to Jennifer. Chase said, "who is Jennifer?" And I said, "me, Jenny!" I got on her phone and it was my host mom! She said she had called my cell phone and a strange man had answered it. She said she was in Agadir and had my cell phone. Chase went to meet my host mom while I returned to the store to try and return the newly purchased phone. Luckily, the man was very forgiving and let me exchange the phone for the full amount. I doubt a store owner in America would do the same for a foreigner who could barely speak English.

When I met up with Chase and my mom, I found out she did not have the phone yet, but she said the man said he would get off work soon and then we could meet him. She was in Agadir with her parents and sister for a doctor’s appointment. Chase and I decided to tag along to the clinic and kill time until we could meet the man. When we arrived at the clinic, we decided to find some water and walked to the nearest hanut. We sat on the curb, drinking water and eating Skittles (yes, the hanut had Skittles, so of course we had to buy them!) then returned to the clinic. At the clinic, Chase realized she had misplaced her cell phone. This became quite hysterical to us (or maybe just me). I ran outside to look for the cell phone and asked the hanut owner if she had seen it. Nope. I even checked our garbage bag and then returned to the clinic and by that time Chase was really starting to freak out, so she went outside to look for the cell phone a second time. She found a man holding it close to where we had been sitting on the curb. Phew.

By this time, it was time to meet the man who had my cell phone. We called my phone about ten times before he answered it. I told him in my broken Darija, “I want my phone now. Where are you?” He laughed at me and told me he would not give it back to me. I was so mad! My host mom called him and he hung up on her. Then, my host mom’s dad called the guy, tried talking him into giving me my phone back, and he hung up on him too! I guess he said he would give me my chip from inside the phone, but not the phone. Here is what I do not understand. The phone I bought is ugly. It was the cheapest phone I could find. The only thing that I can think of is that last week I recharged the minutes on my phone (it was double recharge, so I bought 100 minutes and received 200) and he found out the phone was full of minutes and wanted to keep it.

So, today I will buy a new cell phone. I will email you with the new number as soon as I get it. Also, I am buying some kind of key chain so I can hook the phone to my backpack or purse. Nobody is ever getting their hands on this new phone. Inshaallah.

Lhumdullah for Chase. Thank you, Chase, for helping me and putting up with my mushkils!

100 New Chairs

2006-12-12T03:49:00.000-08:00

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

For Carolyn

2006-12-06T09:19:00.000-08:00

Just for you, Carolyn, here are some fabulous pictures of your very fabulous daughter!

Happy Birthday, Sara!

2006-12-06T09:08:00.000-08:00

I have been at my site for over a week now! Last Sunday was one of the craziest days here! It was my “day off” but really there is never a day off here because every day that I have to think and speak Darija is a day of hard work! Anyway, I slept in and ate a nice breakfast of scrambled eggs and bread. Always bread. Right after breakfast my host mom (who’s more like a sister because she is only 20 years old!) and I went to a village in the countryside to visit her aunt. We were dropped off on some dusty road where we met about ten other women. We joined them to walk to the aunt’s house. It was a really hot day and most of the women were really fat (and some of them really old) so it took us a long time to walk to the house. We would walk a little ways, and the women would stop for a rest, then we would walk some more.

When we got to the house there were probably a total of thirty women there and all of their children. Where the men were is a mystery to me. Social events are usual segregated, so even if men and women attend, they eat and socialize in separate areas of the house. We sat on the floor in one room and drank mint tea and ate roasted almonds. After a while, it was time for lunch so we all crammed around a table close to the ground. We were served a delicious chicken flavored with something sweet. The way you eat a chicken here is simple. You just take your hand and tear the meat off a bone and put it in your mouth! I have eaten a few chickens here before, so I was accustomed to that. After I ate my fair share of chicken, I thought the meal was over. But, just at that moment, another dish was brought out that was filled with roast beef! So, not to be rude, I had to eat the roast beef, too. After that, I was really full. But as is the custom here, last came the fruit. A huge dish was brought out piled high with apples, bananas, oranges, and grapes. I ate half a banana and half an orange and called it quits. Finally, after we had cleared the table of all the bread crumbs and discarded meat bones, everybody curled up with a pillow and the lights were turned off. Some of the women took a nap.

I was whisked out of the room and taken to another room where a woman was doing henna. Henna is that herb that you can mix with water and with it dye the skin. I think the woman was a professional because the designs she gave me on both my hands and feet were amazing. I will take a picture to show you. During the henna ordeal, we drank more mint tea and were served a snack! Can you guess what we ate? That’s right – more meat. We each had a shish kabob. I was offered a second kabob but I had to say no. After the henna dried and was taken off, it was time to say goodbye. By this point, it was nearing six o’clock and my mom and I had ANOTHER dinner invitation to attend to.

I was exhausted as we drove to our second destination: another farm in the countryside. We got there around 7:30 or so and the festivities started all over again. Mint tea followed by dinner. This time we were served a roast beef dish first and afterwards couscous. I was getting major stomach cramps from all that food! I didn’t eat anything more than a few nibbles, but it was all too much for one day. We left around 10:30 and returned home around 11pm. I went straight to bed, after brushing my teeth of course. All that mint tea makes my teeth feel gross.

Anyway, on Monday I felt entitled to a day without Darija and forced-feeding. So, I took a taxi to Inezgane and met up with a fellow volunteer. He and I walked around the market, ate a light lunch and talked a lot! It is nice to feel like a normally functioning adult, if only for a few hours! Sometimes I feel a little like a lost child here. Because I can only communicate basic things, I don’t really feel like the people here know me, the real me. It is really difficult to be funny or to make a joke when you don’t know the language! Anyways, it is nice to be with an American for a while because you can just be yourself.

The other night, I was telling my host family about Christmas and they seem to think it is a beautiful holiday. They say they think Christmas trees are wonderful and maybe they will get one for me. I was embarrassed and told them I didn’t need one. I think they will probably get one anyway, but I hope not.

Today has been a very good day so far. I went to the Dar Chebab in the morning and talked with the Moudir. He told me some very good news! He is going to the Delegation today to meet with the Delegue (the people who oversee the work of the Dar Chebab) to ask them for both a phone line and internet at the Dar Chebab. He is almost certain he will get what he is asking for. Wouldn’t that be awesome? He said if we get it, I will have my own office with a phone and internet! I doubt there is any other volunteer with those amenities. So, basically, I have the best site and Dar Chebab ever.

I also met with the Moudira of the Dar Taliba. This literally means the House of Female Students. These girls come to town to study at the high school and because they come from villages or farms in the countryside, they live in the Dar Taliba during the week. The Moudir wants me to teach her girls English. This is good news, but a bit overwhelming! I think every person in this town wants me to teach them English!

I will be teaching a class of adults at the Dar Chebab. They are teachers in the schools who do not know English. On Friday, I am giving a test to any youth interested in English classes and depending on how many show up, I could have a very busy schedule. Also, I met with the Moudira of the Neddy Niswi. The Neddy Niswi is an organization that serves women. These women work on handicrafts, like knitting, crocheting, embroidery, sewing, etc. They are interested in learning English as well, so that is another place I will be working at. And I am excited to learn some new skills like embroidery! Also, I have met one woman who is the aunt of my host mom and she is very interested in learning English, but she is not allowed to leave her house, so I think I will plan to visit her weekly.

So, as you can see, I have a full plate here! I am excited to get to work, but a little worried, because I was not trained as a teacher and do not have a lot of the skills a teacher needs. I am worried I will run out of ideas after a month of teaching! I really want to start planning activities, but maybe I can incorporate them into my English lessons.

I am asking everyone I meet if they know of a place to live. I think my host dad might own a house that he would rent to me. I cannot wait to move into my own house! I am so sick of not having any control over my life! I want to cook the food I like to eat and that means NO MORE BREAD! I want to exercise, I want to relax, I want to walk around in a T-shirt and shorts when it’s hot, and I want to decorate it so it will be a comfortable little refuge for myself. I love my host family, but they eat so much food! And as a woman, I don’t really have the freedom to just go for a walk. It’s weird. My host mom worries a lot about my safety, even though I think this is the safest town ever. So, once I am on my own, I won’t have that feeling of guilt whenever I live the house to do things in my free time. And I can’t wait to have the other volunteers and my family (that means you guys!) come visit me!

PCV...That's me.

2006-11-28T04:47:00.000-08:00

27 November 2006

Okay, I realize it has been a long time since my last update and I’m sorry but I have been so busy lately! First of all, I want to give a few shout-outs to all the awesome people who have been sending me mail! Thanks to Mom, Dad, Megan, Sara, Grandma B, Grandma and Grandpa, Aunt Barb, Aunt Brenda, Mike Cook, D’Ann, Mim, and Jana! I know a few of you wanted to be the first ones to send me mail, so I’ll have you all know that Megan won that contest! Grandma B takes the cake for most letters, mom has sent the most newspaper clippings and dad has sent the most Hallmark cards. Sukran to everyone!

Today was just another hectic day in the life of a Peace Corps Volunteer…it’s finally official. I am a volunteer. Last Friday I swore in at the most beautiful hotel I have ever seen and spent the day celebrating with the other volunteers and our CBT host families. The next morning I awoke early to begin my travels south. I traveled with a group of eight to Marrakech and there, we spent the night at a hotel. The next morning we shopped around a bit and decided rather than take the bus to Agadir like we did during site visit, we would take a taxi. The five of us piled into a grand taxi and headed south. Along the way, the taxi driver pulled over at a gas station and got out. We all used the restroom, bought a snack, and returned to the taxi. We waited, but there was no sign of the taxi driver anywhere. Chase took initiative and went searching for the multaxi. She found him, in the middle of what she called “a five course meal” and asked him, “What are you doing?” To which he naturally replied, “Eating. Want to join me?” She said no and came back to the taxi, where we waited for another ten minutes. When the multaxi finally returned, he had brought along his coffee to-go. Only in Morocco, there is no such thing as coffee to-go, so he just taken the glass from the café with him in the car. Maybe forty-five minutes later on the road he offered Dan a drink, but gently, Dan declined.

When we arrived in Inezgane, we were stunned to find that the never-ending taxi stand had vanished from its previous spot. You have to understand why we found this so puzzling: Inezgane is known for its taxi stand. It is the largest of its kind in the country, so for it to disappear and relocate was hard to grasp. We walked skeptically to what we thought might be the direction of the new taxi stand. We found taxis, maybe it was a taxi stand, but to be honest with you, I still am not sure what that place was. I had a difficult time finding a taxi to my site, but with the help of a creepy one-eyed man who later petitioned for money, I got in a taxi heading to a town I had never heard of. I have to admit, I was a little nervous, but I thought to myself, “Wherever I end up, just ask for a taxi going to my town and eventually I will get there.” And that’s exactly what I did. Luckily, the town I ended up in is only a short fifteen-minute drive away from my site.

Coming back to my town felt so comfortable. I was glad to see my new host family and they were so happy to see me again. I socialized a bit, ate dinner and went up to bed, exhausted. Then, this morning I headed back to the dreaded Inezgane. Last week I shipped two pieces of luggage via the bus shipping service and decided yesterday it would be much easier to return to Inezgane at another time, rather than try to haul all my belongings back to my town at one time. Coincidentally, I met up with the other volunteers there and we embarked on \what became a string of mini-adventures. First, we took the bus into Agadir to find a place that sells these tiny stamps that are needed for the carte de sejour we are required to get. Of course, the store was not open, so we walked down to the ocean. I felt like I had walked into somebody else’s life…certainly not the life of a Peace Corps volunteer. I look forward to spending some quality time sunbathing on that beach.

Now, I am back at my site and starting to think of all the things I need to do during these first few weeks. Tomorrow I will find one of those stamps, meet with the local authorities, visit the dar chebab and stop by one of the cybers. That, without doubt should amount to a busy day. I apologize for my lack of correspondence and blog updates as of late, but I can safely assure you that I will have nothing but time on my hands now. Stay tuned.

Ramadan Spectacular

2006-10-22T08:34:00.000-07:00

21 October 2006

Last night was the best time I’ve had in Morocco yet! I went to the Ramadan Spectacular at the Dar Chebab which was a celebration of the month of Ramadan. As you can see from my pictures, I got the opportunity to dress up in traditional Moroccan clothes. The Friendship Club we started at the Dar Chebab organized a fashion show for the Spectacular and so the Americans got to dress in Moroccan clothes and the Moroccans got to dress in American clothes. I felt bad because the only clothes I had to offer the Moroccans weren’t very “cool” because all the clothes I brought to Morocco are pretty conservative. But, the kids were really creative and wore hooded sweatshirts, backward baseball caps and baggy jeans. They wanted to look “hip hop.”

The day before the Spectacular I had told Mama that I would be dressing up Moroccan and what I thought she had said was that she would give me a head scarf to wear. I guess I totally misunderstood her because that night as I was getting ready to leave, she pulled out this bag filled with beautiful clothes. My family is Amazig (the politically correct term for Berber) and she had the most amazing tkshita (two-piece dress) that she dressed me in. I also wore this really fancy gold belt and another black sparkly belt that they tied around my arms. Chase, another volunteer, came over to my house and did my make-up to look like the kohl that the Moroccan women put around their eyes. When I finally looked in the mirror, I did not recognize myself!

When Chase and I arrived at the Dar Chebab there were already so many people there! We changed back into our plain clothes so it would be more of a surprise for the fashion show. Then, we sat down in the makeshift theater and waited for the show to begin. And we waited. The thing about Moroccan is, that time doesn’t really matter here. So, we waited a long time and then maybe an hour later the show began. There were a lot of singing performances by young children dressed traditionally. There was one group of young kids that marched around while pretending to shoot guns and I’m not sure what that was about, but whatever. Chase and I sat next to the door, which turned out to be a huge mistake. For some reason, there was this wall of fifty kids pushing against the door trying to get in while two or three people held the door closed. The kids were banging on the door, throwing rocks, and yelling really loudly. At one point the doormen let a rush of kids in and it got really crowded, like fire-hazard crowded.

The fashion show went really well and afterward everyone treated us Americans like celebrities! I had a lot of young girls take my picture and made a few new friends. My new friends were two sisters who both sat on my lap for like an hour during the show. Personal space is pretty much nonexistent here in Morocco, so I was sharing half a plastic chair with this older woman and on my lap was an 18 year old girl and her 10 year old sister both on a knee! The younger one was really cute, but she she kind of went a little overboard with petting my face and hair and giving me a lot of neck hugs. Oh, well...

The Night of Power

2006-10-22T08:32:00.000-07:00

18 October 2006

Tonight is laylatu l-qadr, which means the Night of Power. It is said that on this night, the Koran was sent down and revealed to the Prophet. From sundown to daybreak, the imam (the prayer leader) reads the Koran and I definitely can hear him right now at one a.m. Tonight everyone stays awake praying because it is believed that their wishes will ascend directly to Allah and be granted. I think it’s kind of cool. I’m not sure if everyone in my family will stay awake the entire night, but I do know my host dad is at the mosque. I plan on going to bed as soon as I finish typing this. Some of us have Darija class in the morning!

Next week is the end of Ramadan and the big festival called l-عid. On the last day of Ramadan everyone will stay up very late until they hear the announcement that the new moon has been sighted and Ramadan and fasting are over. As soon as people see the moon, they start celebrating…..for three days. I’m not entirely sure what will happen, but I’ll bet there will be tons of food.

My four-year-old host brother Walid said something really cute the other day. When I went to Fez he asked his mom if they could start eating again during the day. Because the first day I came to stay with the family was also the first day of Ramadan, he thought I had brought the fasting to his town! He said he was tired of fasting and asked if I could stay at the neighbors so they could fast for a while instead.

Fez

2006-10-19T08:10:00.000-07:00

Warning: this post is really long!

16 October 2006

Fès

Yesterday and today were two of the craziest days I’ve had here in Morocco. I went to Fez yesterday, which was really cool. The city is the oldest in Morocco and if you have heard anything about the city or if you can remember the movie Aladdin, it’s everything you’ve ever imagined. I got to visit Fès el-Bali, which is the old part of the city that has the narrow streets that are crowded with people, donkeys, lots of shops, and mosques. It was a little overwhelming at times, especially when we first entered the “labyrinth” because there are these faux guides who want to show you around the medina for a fee. We had this old guy who spoke really good English start giving us this historical spiel about the medina and we just had to walk away. Later on, there were these young boys who would follow right behind you whispering in your ear about all the places they could show you. They were kind of cute and harmless, especially since they usually chose to follow my friend Heather and not me.

At one point, I really needed to use a bathroom and starting panicking about finding one in the maze. Because it’s a cultural no-no for a woman to ask a man where a restroom is, I had to have my friend Dan ask for me. This old guy pointed at the museum that we hadn’t even noticed right next to us and said we’d have to pay 20 Durham just to go inside. While we talked about how that sounded ridiculous and we’d have to ask somebody else about a bathroom, a boy nearby overheard and said he could show us to a bathroom. So, we walked through this giant warehouse where these fancy silver and gold thrones were being made for weddings (I think) and as we walked through he started talking about showing us a rooftop view of the medina. Of course, we followed him blindly and ended up at some guy’s rug shop who took us up an endless flight of the narrowest steps known to mankind. At the top was an okay view of the medina. He talked a lot about how his name was included in the last Lonely Planet guidebook and then brought us downstairs to his rug store. Inside, he insisted on showing us at least fifteen different rugs and after a while we started feeling nervous because it was a really expensive store and he was really informative and nice but none of us had any intention of buying anything. So, my friend Annie, being brave, interrupted his rug lecture and asked if he had a bathroom. It was a little embarrassing because it was pretty much five feet away from where we were standing and the door wouldn’t close, but I managed. What a hassle.

Backtracking a bit prior to the medina adventure, we went to McDonald’s for lunch and it was heaven. Since its Ramadan and taboo to eat in public, all the restaurants in Fez are closed until after l-ftur (when the fast is broken). Well, almost every restaurant… all but McDonald’s. It was so funny when we decided to go there, we got in a taxi and it turned out to be like ten blocks away. We laughed about this and then ran like a bunch of fools toward those golden arches. At first I thought maybe we shouldn’t be eating there because there were only two old American ladies binging on burgers. Well, I guess we were there kind of early at 11 am but by the time we started eating there were other people starting to filter in.

We also got a chance to check out the Walmart of Morocco, called Marjan. It was both beautiful and overwhelming at the same time. I finally got to buy a fingernail clippers (believe me, I was in need) and other stuff, including oreos. At this point, everybody was really thirsty and tired so we headed back to the hotel to chill for a while. When we got there, we found the biggest cockroach waiting for us in the room…later on, we found its life partner searching for the corpse. The really disturbing thing is that the next morning the corpse was gone…where it went, we’re not sure, but we have a few guesses. Maybe a family member carried its dead body off for proper burial, or an army of ants could have enjoyed a cockroach feast, or maybe it wasn’t really dead and dragged its broken and mangled self away. Either way, it was disturbing.

Leaving Fès:

Before I get into the craziest part of my journey from Fès, I must include our last morning there. That morning the training group visited institutions in Fès where juvenile delinquents are sent for rehabilitation. The site I visited was an all-boys facility on the outskirts of the city. Traveling to the facility was easy, but leaving proved to be much more difficult when trying to find six petit taxis in the middle of nowhere. It didn’t pan out so well for us. So, we walked down a deserted road, waiting around for a while and then walked a bit further to a dusty intersection. No taxis anywhere. Finally, we saw a bus coming down the road and all 16 of us volunteers hopped on. The driver was impatient and almost drove off with two of the volunteers on the side of the road, but we managed to grab a hold of them and away we went! The bus dropped us off only a few feet away from our hotel, so that was a bonus. With an hour for lunch break, Annie, Jen, and I hailed a petit taxi and zoomed off to the McDonald’s (yes, again). Returning to the hotel, we had a quick debriefing of our institution visits and then it was time to head back to our CBT sites.

Floyd and I got a taxi and almost lost it to a pushy little Moroccan woman, but we compromised, and the three of us all rode together. Once we got dropped off at the grand taxi stand, the fun really began. My CBT group includes Floyd, Chase, Jeff, Alicia, our facilitator Fatima and me. In the past, the six of us have traveled easily in one taxi with all of our luggage. (Don’t ask me how we’ve managed this, but cramming bodies and luggage in the trunk, on laps, and on the roof seems to work) Today was a different story. The l-Kurti (person who organizes the trips for the taxi drivers) was very stubborn and would not allow the six of us to travel together. He insisted that we had too many suitcases and would be charging us extra for the “inconvenience.” He also wanted three of us to go in one taxi with three random Moroccans also traveling to Safrou and the other three would have to wait at the taxi stand for three more random Moroccans to show up. Fatima was giving the l-Kurti a hard time and trying to convince him to let us all travel together, and at one point she had about eight angry Moroccan taxi drivers yelling and waving their arms in her face. It gets worse. After Floyd, Jeff and Chase had loaded their belongings into the trunk of one taxi and paid their fare, the driver tried to charge them 10 Durham extra for their baggage. Jeff got mad and the driver kicked the three of them out of the cab, threw their suitcases on the ground and drove off. Eventually the six of us made it to Safrou, but in separate taxis.

When we arrived in Safrou, it was nearing l-ftur (breaking of the fast) and there were no taxi drivers willing to take us to Boulmane because of the timing. Keep in mind; it is Peace Corps policy that volunteers do not travel after dark, so we basically were preparing to spend the night in Safrou. Finally, one taxi driver offered to take us to Boulmane for double the price. After a quick call to Peace Corps to see if we could get reimbursed for the extra cost, we took him up on his offer and wrapped up the final leg of our crazy journey to Boulmane. Lahumdullah! (praise allah!)

The Dar Chebab

2006-10-08T08:08:00.000-07:00

8 October 2006

After spending four brief days in Immouzer catching up with the other volunteers and getting more vaccinations, I am back with my host family in Boulmane. I could not believe how happy everyone in my family was to see me. My host brother barreled down the hallway and latched on to my neck when I came into the house. It feels good to be back.

This CBT phase we have a packed schedule at the Dar Chebab. The Dar Chebab literally means the House of Youth and it is where I will be working over the next two years. During CBT, we have a chance to work at the Dar Chebab in Boulmane. So, far it has been fantastic. The Mudir (manager) is really organized and open to new ideas and the youth are never in short supply. We have formed a Friendship Club between the volunteers and the Moroccan youth. Within the club, we have formed subcommittees that have started planning future events. I am on the Spectacle Committee. At the end of Ramadan, the D.C. will host a variety show called the Spectacle that will celebrate the end of Ramadan and showcase the talents of the youth. Our Friendship Club decided to contribute to the event by planning a comedy sketch and a fashion show. One of the girls had already written a sketch that is about an American woman coming to Morocco to marry a Moroccan man and the humorous problems that arise. For the fashion show, we decided to have the Americans dress up in the Moroccan clothing, while the Moroccans model the American clothes. It should be a fun time.

Yesterday the youth planned an outdoor game and invited us volunteers to come play. The game was kind of like a scavenger hunt, but much more difficult and tiring. One of the youths had cut out tiny pieces of paper and hidden them around the perimeter of the soccer field and it was our task to find the papers. We broke off into teams and started searching. The easiest papers we found were pinned up in trees, but the more difficult papers were discovered under rocks and crammed into cracks in a stone wall. There are a lot of stray animals around town, so the game became more interesting as we had to watch our every step, as to avoid the droppings. My team named “Team Speedy,” actually tied for first place with another group.

Today is my day off and I couldn’t be happier. I have been really tired the past few days, with all the traveling, busy days of training, and the intermittent bouts of intestinal problems. I planned on doing laundry this morning, but my host sister-in-law beat me to it. There are only so many clothespins, so I will have to wait until later today after her laundry has dried. I also need a bath. I would like to walk around town and explore a little more.

Next weekend all of us Youth Development volunteers are going to Fez! I’m really excited about this. I think we are going to visit a few institutions there designed for youth. I don’t know if we’ll have much free time, but it will be fun to see a new city!

A Note to Everyone:

Please check out the link on the right titled “My Pictures.” I uploaded a lot of photos there for you to enjoy!

Farewell, Turkish Toilet!

2006-10-03T12:46:00.000-07:00

30 September 2006

Today something miraculous happened. My day started normally; I went to class in the morning at 10:00 and returned to my host family’s house around 3:00. Normally when I come home, I greet Mama and Somiya and either go up to my room to rest or leave for the cyber or souk. Today, Mama and Somiya began talking to me excitedly about something. They were pointing a lot at the bathroom on the main floor and pointing upstairs saying “n-douche.” I had no clue. I asked them if they thought I needed a shower and they laughed. Then, they walked with me upstairs and opened the door to my bathroom.

In my bathroom, there was a man actually standing inside the Turkish toilet with a huge pile of rubble next to him. Mama and Somiya said some more things and I thought I got the point. Okay, I thought, so I can’t use the upstairs bathroom anymore. To be honest with you, I wasn’t even aware that there were two bathrooms on the main floor. I had thought it was odd that there was a sink on the wall at the bottom on the stairs and thought the small door next to it was probably a closet.

Then, I left to go to the cyber to check email and the souk to buy some food. When I returned home, I walked upstairs and there, believe it or not, was an actual flush toilet sitting where the man had been digging before! What a strange place Morocco is!

At breakfast tonight I will try to ask Mama if I can use this new household technology. I am really excited about the toilet, but I am feeling kind of spoiled. I know none of the other volunteers here in Boulmane have either a shower or a flushing toilet.

1 October 2006

The toilet situation got a little bit stranger today, if you can believe that. I entered the bathroom to find that a long hose had been hooked up to the faucet on the wall and was draped across the toilet seat. I had no idea what the purpose of this hose was, so I continued to use the downstairs Turkish toilet. After dinner tonight I asked my family about the toilet and the hose. Mama said that they had bought the toilet three years ago because her knees had been giving her trouble and they had only recently decided to install it. The purpose of the hose wasn’t as clear. I think we were supposed to use the hose to flush to toilet, but the hose has a hole in it and sprays water everywhere, so we removed the hose tonight. Now, to flush, I will fill the old bucket with water and pour it into the toilet. It’s basically like the Turkish toilet, but now I get to sit down!

Today was our first day without language instruction, so I had the whole day to spend with my host family, relax, and do whatever. It was great. I slept in late, took a bath (sitting on a teeny tiny stool on the floor next to the new toilet pouring buckets of water over my head) packed my bag, visited with other volunteers, played Frisbee with the neighbor kids, and best of all, got to talk with mom, dad, Megan and Sara!

Tomorrow we will leave Boulmane and travel back to Immouzer for more shots and technical training. I look forward to seeing my friends and sharing stories about our CBT sites and families. There are six of us, including our teacher, and I think we are taking only one grand taxi. This should be interesting. The grand taxis are just an average sized Mercedes (why they are all Mercedes, I’m not sure) with no seat belts and drivers who defy the definition of FAST. How will seven people plus luggage fit into one car? I guess tomorrow only knows.

Ramadan

2006-09-25T09:29:00.000-07:00

24 September 2006

Right now I am sitting in my new bedroom above the home of my new host family. I have my own room on top of the roof and believe it or not, it is right next to the sheep. As I look out my tiny window, I can see them in their pen. I am also within clear range of their constant bleating, which has stopped because I think they might be sleeping now. The house is very nice and I think I am very lucky to have my own private bedroom and it seems I have my own bathroom as well, but it has a Turkish toilet and I don’t plan on showering tomorrow because my host mom’s instructions on how to use “l-douche” were in Arabic and involved pointing at this air duct as well as a gas can in a little box. There are four pictures hanging on the walls: two of the father of the household, one of the King of Morocco and his baby son, and the other of two babies dressed up very formally sitting on a fancy gold chair. Also on the roof is a separate apartment where my language teacher is living. This is both great and weird. It’s great because she literally lives two steps away and probably will eat most her meals with my family. It’s weird because she’s right there and I will be seeing her all the time!

My host mom introduced herself to me as Mama, so since I’m not sure what her real name is, I’ve been calling her Mama and she seems to be really happy whenever I do. Mama and I watched tv in the salon for probably six hours today…sometimes trying to talk, but mostly Mama napped on the couch. I have also met my host sister-in-law whose name is Samiya and her son Walid. Walid is four years old and adorable. He’s my little buddy now ever since we played cards this afternoon. We made up a game similar to slap jack, except we were using a Moroccan deck of cards so we hit the ones and yelled “Wahid!” (Wahid means one) He loved it and after a while the game just became slamming the cards as hard as possible on the table and laughing.

Oh, and my new name here is Jamila. Mama and Samiya had a hard time saying my name (every time they tried it sounded a lot like Jelly) so they changed it to something easier! They also told me Jamila means beautiful in Arabic. Sometimes when we have problems communicating (basically all the time) they look at me and say “Smitk Jamila!” and we laugh. (“Your name is Jamila!”)

Today was also the first day of Ramadan, which is the holiest month of the year for Muslims. During Ramadan, Muslims fast during the day, which means no food, water, gum, cigarettes or sex until the sun sets. I kind of fasted today. When I woke up I ate a piece of bread and around 5 pm I ate a few cookies that I found in my purse. We broke the fast around 6:30 and had the sweetest meal ever. It consisted of mint tea, mesumen (which are like pancakes, but much bigger and flatter and tasting nothing like a pancake), sugary dates, bread dipped in honey, and this sugary dessert that was like dough pretzels, kind of. I guess after fasting all day the first thing you want to eat is something that tastes really really good. After breakfast, my language teacher Fatima and I walked to another PC volunteer’s house. Floyd wasn’t there because he was out at a cafe with his host brother, but we visited with his host parents and sisters. One of the sisters was getting henna done on her hands and I was invited back to get henna on my hands sometime soon. I am really excited about this!

So, after visiting with the family for about two hours, Fatima and I walked back to our house. I watched tv (The Last Samurai dubbed in French) with Mama, Ba (my host dad), and Samiya until it was time for dinner. We ate dinner around 10:30 and had some kind of beef stew with vegetables that was really tasty. Keep in mind, there is no silverware here, so everything is eaten with your hands. Usually I will break off pieces of bread to scoop up vegetables or pieces of meat. Also, I can only use my right hand to eat, because it is culturally and religiously unclean to use the left hand while eating. Surprisingly, I am doing okay with this.

After dinner I said my first real sentence of the day “Jamila brigt nes” which means “Jenny needs sleep,” and walked up to bed. Mama asked if I wanted to wake up at 4:00 am to eat the last meal of the night before sunrise. I decided that sleep sounded like a better idea, but I think tomorrow night I will try waking up early just to see what happens at this last meal.

Tomorrow is another big day. My training group of 5 volunteers begins our training at the Dar Chebab. The Dar Chebab literally means the House of Youth and is where we will have our language and culture classes and next week we will begin teaching the youth there. I have to walk all but twenty seconds to get to the Dar Chebab, as it is right across the street. Very convenient.

So far, all the Moroccans I have met have been so incredibly nice. I feel very welcome here and every person has been very patient with my lack of language skills, especially my host family. This town seems very safe and today I met the gendarmes (police) who will be looking out for me while I’m here. But, I’m not too worried about this town, because I have noticed all the households let their children run free in the streets without supervision.

So, I hope this message finds all of you well and I will write more soon! Remember, I’d love to get mail!

Love,
Jenny

The T.T.

2006-09-25T09:26:00.000-07:00

This little acronym has become all too familiar to us PC volunteers since arriving in l-Mgrib. The turkish toilet. Picture a small hole in the ground with two small grooves on either side for your feet. That’s about all there is to it. To use the T.T. you have to squat over the hole and pretty much hope for the best. I’ve had some pretty ridiculous episodes on that thing! To flush you fill a bucket of water from the tap on the wall and pour it down the hole. To wipe, you just splash some of the water on yourself and you’re ready to go! Megan, thank god for all that hand sanitizer I brought along! As I’ve found out, you can never have enough of that stuff here. Also, I have decided to save my cherished stash of Kleenexes for the really dire times. Oh, and I almost forgot the best part. The T.T. here at my host family’s house has this rock with a handle that you put in the hole when you’re done. Kind of gross to touch, but much appreciated when considering the smell that sometimes wafts out.

Immouzer

2006-09-19T11:59:00.000-07:00

19 September 2006

Hello everyone!

So much has happened since I posted last. I am now in the town of Immouzer for training. We are learning the language Darija, which is the Moroccan dialect of Arabic. I have learned basic greetings, numbers, and a few other helpful phrases. My friends and I enjoy trying out what we’ve learned on the locals in town. We have become friends with the local Bolhanut (shopowner) where we buy bottled water, Coca, and regretfully, candy bars.

We are all adjusting to the food here. Most of us have been sick at some point, so we all are in this together! Where I am staying, there are nine girls sharing one flush toilet and two Turkish toilets. There is no escaping the sights, sounds, and smells of sickness. There is also a major scarcity of toilet paper here. The training group split up into two groups yesterday and the girls had a demonstration by the Moroccan women on how to use the Turkish toilet. The previous day I had tried the toilet and the results were hilarious. Now, I am getting better, but it will take some practice before I master it.

Back to the food: there is some food here that I have really liked. We had couscous our first day in Immouzer and it was very delicious. There was a tasty soup the other night that had rice and vegetables in it, that is traditionally served during Ramadan. Of course, there’s been food that immediately you realize was a big mistake as you run for the Turkish toilet. We were all delighted to see the mini pizzas the other day, but the combination of tuna and olives didn’t go over so well. Last night was the most exciting by far. Chicken nuggets. Why? I’m not sure, but I gobbled down five of them.

Communicating with people back home has really been a problem for everyone here. We are in training all day until 6:00 pm. At this point we have free time, but we have an 8:00 curfew, so it is a busy time trying to run errands and visit the cyber café. Some of the volunteers have bought cell phones and so they have an easier time talking with their families back home. I have not bought one yet, but I plan to as soon as I can. Most of the volunteers have not actually spoken with their families yet, me included. Hopefully, by this weekend, I will have a cell phone and you all with have the number.

This weekend we will break off into language learning communities and leave Immouzer to begin our homestay with a Moroccan family. We will be in small groups of 5-6 volunteers and each group will drive with their Language Coach to their new village. We will stay there for I think nine days and then all the groups will come back to Immouzer for more technical training. Until our swearing in ceremony at the end of November, our time will be broken up into language learning/homestay and technical training in Immouzer. I am anxious to see who will be in my small group.

Today we were given our third shot total, and second shot in the Rabies series. There are a lot of stray dogs and cats around here with that glazed over look in their eyes, so I’m willing and happy to have this vaccination. I think by the end of training I will have had nine shots total. This morning we have had self-directed learning while the doctor administered the shots and after lunch we will begin more language learning. Actually, looking at the clock, I think it is almost time for lunch! So, with that, I hope you all are doing well and I must mention this again, please don’t be shy and send me an email or letter!

Love,
Jenny

Hello from Rabat!

2006-09-14T12:04:00.000-07:00

12 September 2006

Dear Family & Friends,

I made it! I am writing you from Rabat, the capital city of Morocco. I think at this point I have been awake for over 43 hours (including the short 30 minute nap I took before dinner). Yesterday morning I awoke early in Philadelphia to prepare for the big trip to Morocco. Peace Corps had planned on leaving Philly by noon, but due to some misunderstanding, the buses did not arrive until 1:30pm. No big deal, as we had ample time to get to JFK airport in NYC. However, we did not foresee the major delay along the turnpike en route to New York. Lucky for us we had a very back road savvy bus driver who got us to the airport with only 45 minutes until boarding time. Somehow, all 56 of us volunteers made it through security in time and we were on our way.

The plane ride was uneventful as it was very boring and I could not sleep, but fortunately it was only a six hour flight. We arrived in Casablanca at 7:00 am, Morocco time and began our second day of travel. The funniest sight had to have been all 56 of us Americans, each with a luggage cart, wheeling our way through the airport. Many heads were turning! Next, we loaded everybody’s belongings into a very large double-decker coach bus. Because there was not room for the entirety of the group, some of us got to ride in a mini van on our way to Rabat. It was a great way of seeing the Moroccan countryside. I couldn’t believe how many people were just out walking around in the middle of nowhere! It’s the desert and far from any city, and there were people, sometimes families, walking not along roads, but just out there. Also, a lot of donkeys, wild dogs, and sheep scattered the rural landscape.

Once we got to Rabat we quickly settled ourselves into our rooms and made our way downstairs for our welcome session. We met almost the entire Morocco Peace Corps staff and got some information about the program here in general, safety, and communicating with people at home. It was a little rough because all of us were sleep-deprived, but somehow we all made it through the day! We had a nice meal on the rooftop of the hotel overlooking one of the city’s mosques. While eating, the muezzin, the person who calls the Muslims to prayer at the appropriate times, called out to the city and at that moment I thought to myself, yes, I am in Morocco.

I am meeting so many wonderful people and I couldn’t be happier to know I will be spending the next two years side by side these amazing, dedicated individuals. I already have pinpointed a few people who have really clicked with me. I am wishing and hoping that at least one of them ends up in my small training group (5-6 people). It really makes a difference knowing that there will be a group of peers experiencing the same things I will be going through. Already, we are starting to become a very close-knit group. We have traveled so far, we are all a little anxious to begin living with our host families this Friday, and along with that, try and communicate with them with the language we will be learning at the same time. Wow! We sure are being pushed to learn as much as possible, as fast as possible.

So, with that, I have some medical paperwork to complete tonight before training begins again in the early morning. Tomorrow I will get to meet the US Ambassador for Morocco. He is a very close friend to President George W. Bush, but as I have been told, he is different than other Ambassadors because he really does care about this country and especially the Peace Corps. So, with a big day ahead of me, I will say goodnight and take care! I am in good hands here, so try not to worry!

Love,
Jenny

Where in the world is Morocco?

2006-09-01T23:10:00.000-07:00

My mailing address!

2006-08-23T13:33:00.000-07:00

This will be my mailing address during training:

Jennifer Bentley
s/c Corps de la Paix
2 Rue Abou Marouane Essaadi
Rabat 10100, MOROCCO

This will be my address during my first three months of training. I will post my future permanent address when I find out what it will be! Please send me lots and lots of letters!

The mail delivery will probably be quite sporadic, so don't worry if you do not receive my letters regularly. Also, please do not send cash through the mail, as it will probably never reach me.

If you want to send me a package, the brown padded envelopes work the best. Also, I have heard that if you use red ink and label the packages with religious symbols, the package may stand a better chance at remaining unopened. But, who knows! Make sure they have the green customs label and are marked as gifts, otherwise I may have to pay a fee to receive the package.

Square One.

2006-08-03T21:01:00.000-07:00

Hello to everyone who I hope will check in with my adventures in Morocco over the next two years! I will be leaving September 9th for Philadelphia and on the 11th will fly into Casablanca, Morocco. Upon arriving in Morocco, I will participate in a 3 month training program. During training, I'll live with a host family, learn Arabic or Berber, learn Moroccan history and culture, learn more about the Peace Corps, and train for the work I will be doing for the next two years. That work will be youth development. After training, I will be sworn in officially as a PC Volunteer and then I will move to the site I will be assigned to.

At this point I am one month away from my departure date and feel like I'm finally starting to take some steps in the direction of actually leaving. Courtesy of LL Bean, I received my shortwave radio today in the mail. I sat on my bed fiddling with that thing and was amazed to find so many world-wide frequencies, like BBC. So, at least I'll have the BBC if no internet, tv, or phone. But, who knows, I may have all those amenities!

Access to those amenities will also control how often I will be able to post on this blog. It could be weekly, monthly, or few and far between. I am new to the world of blogging, so bear with me as I figure things out. With that, I hope you all tune in sometime in September to hear what new stories I have as I blunder through a different country, culture, and way of life!