Rejected By The Peace Corps

On February 19, four months and two weeks after I submitted my online application to the Peace Corps, I received an e-mail message from the Peace Corps entitled "Peace Corps Application Decision."  It said that the Peace Corps regrets to inform that they cannot offer me a position at this time.  It went on to say that they receive more applications than there are available positions.  They strongly encouraged me to reapply.  

As a practical matter, it doesn't make sense for me, even as an RPCV (Returned Peace Corps Volunteer) and as a former teacher here in the states, to reapply to the Peace Corps now.  As I mentioned in a previous recent blog post, I've also been looking at applying to domestic volunteer programs through www.catholicvolunteernetwork.org.  It behooves me to submit those applications as soon as possible.  I can't really wait until I would hear from the Peace Corps about a new application that I would submit.  So it seems that my course is clear.  

Of course I was disappointed.  Yet I also realize that I don't know what God's plan is.  I pray that God's will be done in my life.  When events take a turn in a direction I hadn't been hoping, I need to be flexible.  I want to accept all that comes my way; any set of circumstances can serve to sanctify any of us, if only we take the proper attitude.  And so I breathe, and try to be patient as I move forward into the unknown.  God, may Your will be done in my life.  Amen.  

Be Patient

It's been nearly four months since I submitted my online application to the Peace Corps.  I still haven't had an interview.  

Peace Corps says that patience and flexibility are two of the qualities that are helpful both as an applicant and once one becomes a PCV (Peace Corps Volunteer).  Having previously been both an applicant and a PCV, I agree.  Besides, were I to become impatient, it wouldn't get me an interview sooner!  

More to the point, patience reflects the state of the heart.  The second reading at Mass today was from 1 Corinthians 13.  Love is patient.  By being patient, you show love.  Let us be patient, and thus love.  Amen.  

Alternatives to the Peace Corps

When I was applying to the Peace Corps in 2009 and 2010, someone asked me something like, "What are you going to do if you don't get into the Peace Corps?"  I responded something like, "I don't know."  As it turned out, I got into the Peace Corps, and served as a PCV (Peace Corps Volunteer) in Morocco from 2010 to 2012, so I never ended up considering the question of what else I'd do.  

This time around as I again apply to the Peace Corps, I am thinking about what I'll do if I don't become a PCV again.  In considering various courses of action, I've been drawn to seek various elements in my life.  I've been driven to serve impoverished persons while living simply, and I particularly enjoyed a simple life of service abroad as a PCV.  I've craved spiritual community, including while worshipping and celebrating God's many blessings at Mass and otherwise in church.  I've also greatly enjoyed solitude, along with the frequently attendant silence and stillness, which, I feel, helps me to try to listen to what God is saying to me.  I've sought to live a life in which I practice these and other spiritual disciplines.  

Seeking to follow these spiritual practices, I've also applied to Franciscan Mission Service.  Through their program, volunteers live abroad for at least two years while serving poor people.  
It seems likely I might also apply for service programs in which I would serve poor persons here in the states.  I've found some such volunteer programs which interest me through the website www.catholicvolunteernetwork.org.  

It's also possible I might again be a Catholic Worker.  For a few months in the latter half of last year, I lived and worked at a Catholic Worker House here in California.  There we housed, fed and otherwise cared for women and children who probably otherwise would have been homeless.  

I don't know what I'll do next.  I can say, though, that I am excited about what lies ahead.  I am looking forward to returning to active ministry, spending more time serving impoverished people.  I am eager to do so, in whatever framework it takes place.  

How Long To Wait For An Interview

A couple of days ago I got an e-mail from a Peace Corps Placement Officer.  She was not the Placement Officer I mentioned in my last post.  This second Placement Officer acknowledged that I had indicated that I wanted to be considered for work in the sectors of Youth Development, Health and Environment.  She asked me whether nevertheless I would like to be considered for an Education Sector position in the country of South Africa.  In other words, she asked me if I would like to be considered for being a full-time teacher in South Africa.  In her e-mail, she included a couple of links.  One link was to a description of the specific volunteer position.  The other link was to a more general description of the Peace Corps' presence in South Africa.

I clicked on the link which described the particular volunteer position.  It indicated that the position required strong classroom management skills.  I called the Placement Officer and told her that I did not want to be considered for the teaching position.  She asked me why.  I explained that my ability to manage classroom misbehavior is the weakest link in my teaching skill set.

I capitalized on the opportunity to ask her some questions about the application process in general.  I asked her if there was any way to know how long it would take to have an interview.  She told me that there isn't really any way to know how long one will have to wait for an interview; she added that I might have to wait two more weeks for an interview, or I might have to wait two more months for an interview.  Given that I submitted my application on October 5, if I wait two more months for an interview, until mid-January, then it will have been three and a half months from submitting the application to interviewing.  However, she also told me that they are now just getting around to starting to deal with applications for positions which are scheduled to depart the US in July, August and September of next year.  Given that as of right now, the Peace Corps is considering me for a Health Advisor position in Benin, to depart the US in September 2016, I may be hearing soon about interviewing for that position...  

First Steps After Submitting Application

I'm excited to report that I've submitted a new application to once again be a Peace Corps Volunteer!  I've already detailed elsewhere how I've felt drawn back again to being a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV).  I shared those thoughts on one of my other blogs, the one which has been describing life in the monastic community in which I've been living, and in which I was scheduled to become a monk early next year before I discerned that I am not going to become a monk.  Since I've already shared there why I'm not going to become a monk, and why I've felt drawn for quite a while to re-enlist in the Peace Corps, I won't redescribe those thoughts here.

I write at this particular point to let people know that I'm again applying to the Peace Corps.  I also write so I can share with others how my application process has been going.

To get more specific, I submitted my online application on October 5.  Within moments I received an autogenerated response from Peace Corps, in which they provided me with the information I had provided to them in my application.  They also informed me that I would soon be receiving another e-mail with a link where I would have to complete my Health History Form, in which an applicant tells the Peace Corps about medical and psychological conditions that he or she has had.  Indeed, within a couple of minutes, I received that e-mail.  That same night, I completed my Health History Form within a few minutes. 

The next day, October 6, I received another e-mail from Peace Corps, informing me that based on the information I had provided on the Health History Form, they had determined that they could potentially consider me for service in about 30 countries which they listed in that e-mail message.  In that e-mail, they asked me to click on a link and tell them my service preferences.

In the form I accessed through the link, I was able to select three specific countries.  As I started to think about specific countries I would list, I stopped.  I thought that if I wanted to go where God most wants me to go, I should mark that I would go where I was most needed, so that's what I marked.  These days applicants can apply to be a PCV in a specific country.  When I last applied to the Peace Corps, in 2009 and 2010, applicants could not apply to serve in specific countries.  They applied to the Peace Corps, and told Peace Corps where they would prefer to serve, but Peace Corps picked the country to which each applicant was invited. 

In that same form, they also asked me what kind of work I would like to do.  I told them I'd like to work in the sector of youth development, health or environment.

In the e-mail in which they asked me to tell them my service preferences, they also asked me to fill out a soft skills questionnaire.  In that form, they asked me to describe my personality in terms of what qualities and traits were most important to me.  In my upcoming Peace Corps service, how important was it to me to have experiences in which various parts of my personality were fed?  Peace Corps asks applicants to rank these traits to help get a better sense of a certain applicant's work style, and to determine in what type of environment a particular applicant will excel.

Then after that quick succession of e-mails between Peace Corps and myself, I didn't hear anything for a couple of weeks.  Then, on October 21, I got an e-mail from the Peace Corps Placement Office informing me that they are considering me for the group departing for the country of Benin in September 2016.

I became a little bit curious.  The next day, on October 22, I e-mailed the Placement Office and asked them if they were considering me for a specific sector of work in Benin, or if their consideration of my application had not yet become that specific.  Within a few hours, a Placement Specialist had e-mailed me back, telling me that I'm being considered for the position of Community Health Advisor in Benin. 

Here is another difference from the last time I applied to the Peace Corps: back in 2010, the Placement Office only contacted me after I had gotten my medical, dental and legal clearances.  That is, the Placement Office contacted me only after Peace Corps had ascertained that I didn't have any medical or dental conditions that doctors wouldn't be able to accommodate in the countries where PCVs serve.  Back then, the Placement Office only contacted me after Peace Corps had determined that there were no legal impediments to my serving as a PCV; a person can't become a PCV if he or she is a party to a lawsuit, or has been convicted of certain offenses.  Now, at this point in my application process, I haven't even had an interview yet, and therefore haven't even begun going to a doctor or a dentist to get the forms filled out which will be used in processing my medical clearance and my dental clearance. 

And so... I wait for an interview.  In the meantime, please feel free to ask me questions.  I'm excited at the prospect of being a PCV again, so I am happy to talk about the Peace Corps! 

Reflecting On Nearly Two Years Of Peace Corps Service

I just finished my Peace Corps service earlier this afternoon, as today is my COS (Completion Of Service, or Close Of Service) date.  About nine other PCVs (Peace Corps Volunteers) and I spent yesterday afternoon and this morning and this afternoon completing various administrative tasks.  In the last day or two, we've signed a lot of forms.  We also visited various offices at Peace Corps Headquarters here in Rabat, getting signatures of various Peace Corps staff members documenting that we've complied with various reporting requirements.  We had them verify that we've complied with assorted administrative requirements, including returning Peace Corps property, such as our medical kits and smoke detectors, and any books we took out from the Peace Corps library here at Peace Corps Headquarters in Rabat.

It feels good to have just finished my Peace Corps service.  Though I'm not sure how much I've helped here, at least I tried to help.  As a PCV, you'll never know the full effects you've had.

Although I won't know much about how I've helped here, there will be some interactions from my time here in Morocco and from the application process, and from the decision process to apply to the Peace Corps that I think I'll never forget.  Among them are:

* Sitting in church in August 2009 and listening to the pastor say that when we set out to help others and are worried about being lonely, that Jesus reassures us that He will be there with us.  That was the moment when I decided that I was definitely applying to the Peace Corps.

* Standing on the Sundial Bridge in Redding, California, in November 2009 and being approached by three middle-aged men who told me that they were on a treasure hunt.  They told me that they were looking for people who needed their prayers.  Immediately I responded that I needed their prayers, since I was applying to the Peace Corps to teach English in a foreign country, and was studying for the CLEP (College Level Examination Program) test to show my proficiency level in French to the Peace Corps.  We stood on the bridge, with our arms on each others' shoulders, praying, asking God to help me. 

* Driving north on Interstate 280 from San Jose to San Francisco on one particular afternoon in June 2010, knowing that the big blue envelope with the invitation from the Peace Corps was waiting for me at home in San Francisco.  As I drove home that day, I remember thinking that I was on my way to find out where I would be living for the next two years of my life.

* Driving north on 19th Avenue in San Francisco on that same day in June 2010, and, as I was only a few minutes from home, listening to the classical radio station play "Palladio" by Karl Jenkins.  I felt, and still feel, that its urgent, charged tempo and rhythm was apropos, as I only had a few more minutes to wait to find out to where I would be moving and serving in the Peace Corps. 

* Driving east on Interstate 580 right after I left the San Francisco Bay Area in July 2010 and sobbing as I left behind so many loved ones and the life I had lived there for years.  As I was sobbing, gasping for air, I was listening to the band Coldplay perform the song "What If."  As I listened to its message of being bold and taking the leap to live bravely, I reaffirmed my commitment to enter the Peace Corps. 

* Freaking out in early September 2010 as the time imminently approached for me to move out of the United States, in the only culture I had ever known. 

* Walking through the airport in Philadelphia where the other PCVs and I were meeting for our Staging date, when we had our orientation in the US preparing us to leave the US and fly here to Morocco.  As I neared the exit of the airport, I saw a poster advertising the Peace Corps which said, "Never have to start sentences with 'I should have...'"

* Speaking with my host brother, in whose home I lived during the first two months I lived here in Morocco.  In particular, I especially recall one conversation I had with him in which he was persistently apologizing for the attacks made in the US on September 11, 2001.  Despite my protests that he didn't have a responsibility to apologize for those attacks, he continued to apologize for them.

* Meeting a courageous young Moroccan Christian woman on the train between Marrakech and Fes in November 2010.  After she stated that it's illegal to be Christian in Morocco, she nevertheless shared her story of how she converted to Christianity despite the initial opposition of her family, who at first ostracized her and shunned her for deciding to be a Christian. 

* Leaving the cyber one day in November or December 2010 in the town in the Sahara where I lived for the better part of two years.  As I walked out into the Sahara sun, I despaired at how I felt that no one in the town would be able to understand how I felt, with the homesickness and culture shock I was feeling. 

* Crumpling emotionally in late January 2011 as I felt like I didn't have the strength to continue as a PCV, yet simultaneously feeling as if I had no choice but to continue with my Peace Corps service.  Feeling trapped, I cried out.  Soon after feeling so emotional, I found renewed fortitude as I thought of Jesus' words in Matthew 25:42-43.  I recalled His words there, how He reminds us that when we help the disempowered and disadvantaged, we are respecting Him.  Reminding myself of this teaching, I realized that I wouldn't be going anywhere, and that I would be finishing my Peace Corps service as scheduled, so as to help the people who I came here to Morocco to help. 

* Talking with a particular student at Spring Camp in 2011.  I was so glad to be discussing with him how God wants us to help each other.  I so enjoyed discussing the meaning of life with him, and even more knowing that he had been trying to live his life in a way to infuse it with meaning. 

* Meeting other expat Christians here in Morocco and attending Bible study sessions with them.  As I experienced spiritual community and fellowship with them, which I cherished very much, we supported each other as we tended to each others' spiritual growth.  Along with much of the spiritual reading I've done while here in Morocco, I felt like I benefited enormously from their support.

* Helping youths here in Morocco develop their critical thinking skills.  In the process, I feel that they articulated their ideals, what is most important to them, and how they want to live their lives.  In such creative writing exercises, they seemed to be describing the kind of people they admire and the type of people they aspire to be.  I hope that I helped them to be more conscious in how they choose to live their lives.

* Enjoying the magnanimous hospitality of Moroccans so many times.  I've been reminded that it is so important to be generous towards others and to take care of others.

Rather than bringing back a lot of new material possessions from Morocco, I'll be returning to the US with the insight gained from having lived in a markedly different culture.  I've learned, from different cultural norms, how I can benefit from approaching life in different ways.  I feel that I've learned how to be a better person.  I feel that during my Peace Corps service, God has taught, guided and directed me.  I'm so glad that I made the major changes in my life which were necessary to come here, since I feel that I am a much better person as a result of having so drastically changed my life. 

Whistling In The Dark

Recently one night when I was in bed, trying to fall asleep in the Sahara, my post during my Peace Corps service here in Morocco, I was reminded of a certain superstition which supposedly some Moroccans have.  As I was resting there in bed in the dark, I barely heard a television playing somewhere.  On the TV was a commercial which sometimes plays here which includes whistling.  For some reason, even though I'd heard this commercial numerous times before, only as I heard it then in the dark did it remind me of the superstition here that if you whistle in your house, you're going to let a djinn, that is, a genie, into your home.  However, just as in the US, here in Morocco certainly not everyone subscribes to superstitions.  I was so reminded during a recent visit to the home of a family I know in town.

Perhaps a few days after I heard that commercial when I was trying to fall asleep, I was at the home of this particular family in town, visiting them for dinner.  As usual when one visits the home of a Moroccan family here in Morocco, the TV was playing.  As I sat there with the family, that same commercial which features whistling started playing on their TV.  I mentioned the superstition that if you whistle in your house, you'll let in a djinn. Some of the family members nearly seemed to chuckle, apparently unconcerned.  As an added expression of their lack of concern, one of them noted that the pressure cooker on the stove was starting to whistle!

A New Friendship Between A PCV And A Moroccan

Today I joined my friend David, who's also my site mate, that is, my fellow PCV (Peace Corps Volunteer) who also lives here in town, when he went to his host family's house for lunch.  I invited our fellow PCV Ariana, a young woman who lives about five kilometers south, to join us at their home for lunch.  I was glad that she joined us.  I'd been wanting to introduce her especially to the younger daughter of the family for a while.

Before she arrived, David and I were admiring the keftans, or Moroccan women's robes, which the younger daughter of the family had made in the course of her occupation as a seamstress.  One was yellow and the other was purple.  Both were embroidered with intricate weaving down the front middle seam.  The yellow one had a rust-colored vest which went over it.  The purple one had matching loose pants which accompanied it.  As a side note, most Moroccan women's clothing, and especially keftans, tend to be loose-fitting, unlike, for example, Malaysian women's clothing which is a bit more form-fitting.  My site mate predicted that our fellow PCV would thoroughly enjoy such colorful, decorative keftans.

When our fellow PCV Ariana arrived, she was absolutely thrilled with the beautiful handiwork of the younger daughter of the family.  She was all smiles, and thoroughly enjoyed trying on the keftan which the daughter put on her.

Normally when one goes to a Moroccan home, the food is a primary, prominent part of the visit.  During this particular visit, the family had to redirect us, from the clothing, and the new friendship which my fellow PCV had struck up with the younger daughter of the family, back to the tea and cookies which had been sitting waiting for us on the low round table.

Also, normally the hosts pour the tea for the guests.  For some reason, the father of the family repeatedly directed me to pour the tea, so I poured the tea.  I forgot to pour the tea in the typical Moroccan fashion of drawing the teapot high above the glass, so that the tea falls in a long arc from the teapot which is high above the glass.  Accordingly, the younger daughter reminded me to do so when she took the teapot and demonstrated the customary way to pour tea here in Morocco.

After the tea and cookies, we enjoyed our lunch, a tajine, which is essentially the Moroccan equivalent of a type of stew.  The tajine we enjoyed today was one of chicken, potatoes and green olives.  We sat on the floor around a low round table, each of us grabbing morsels from the part of the communal dish which was nearest to us with pieces of bread--which the family baked themselves--which we ripped from large, flat, round loaves.  Here in Morocco, it's customary to only take food out of the communal dish with one's right hand, as it's understood that the left hand is reserved for performing private sanitary functions.  One also uses the bread to soak up some of the tajine oil which sits at the bottom of the large communal dish.

But, again, the food today played a supporting role.  In one way, the food was secondary to the sartorial creations we admired.

However, the food also was upstaged by the new friendship forged between my one fellow PCV and my other fellow PCV's host sister, that is, the younger daughter in his host family.  After the meal, my site mate soon left since he had to meet some community members regarding some upcoming work he hopes to do here in town.  My other fellow PCV kept asking the younger daughter how to say certain words in Tashelheit, which is one of the Berber languages, and which is spoken in this southern region of Morocco where we live, here in the Sahara.  As when my fellow PCV was trying on and was wearing the beautiful yellow keftan and accompanying rust-colored vest, she and the younger daughter of the family were sharing much laughter and smiles as they discussed Berber vocabulary.

While I was sad to be saying goodbye to the family, and while they looked rather sad to be seeing me leave their home, since I won't be seeing them again before I leave town so soon from now, I was very pleased to see my fellow PCV having such a good time at their home.  I left their home with a warm, satisfying feeling, because, despite saying farewells with them, they had made a new friend whose company they seemed to enjoy so much.

Be Like The Children

Last week as I was walking back to the apartment where I've been living here in the Sahara, I passed a few different groups of children. I was struck by how carefree they were, apparently not caring about their surroundings.

First I crossed paths with three little ones, perhaps three, four and five years old, who were snaking their way down the sidewalk, as they trotted along. The one all the way in back had his hands on the hips of the middle one, who had his hands on the hips of the front one. They were pretending to be some sort of motorized vehicle, making beeping sounds as they navigated their way around people and items being sold on the dusty sidewalk.

Later I saw a little boy, maybe five or six years old, who was rolling a bicycle tire down a dirt road. One often sees kids here in town setting a tire rolling and then running after it, keeping it rolling by pushing it along with a stick.  They find amusement and opportunities for play in what they happen to find around them.

During this walk back to the apartment, I was greeted by other little children. As is so often the case when I am greeted by little children here in Morocco, they cheerfully greeted me in French by declaring, "Bonjour!"

Soon after I had seen all these little children, playing and otherwise seeming to be so happy, despite the poverty in which they are residing, unbothered to be living so simply, without many material comforts, I thought of a particular teaching of Jesus. In considering how joyous these children seem to be in such circumstances, I pondered that such an approach to life perhaps is at least part of what Jesus meant, at Matthew 18:4, when he counseled, "Whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven."

My Peace Corps Service As An Investment That Has Been Paying Off

With less than two weeks of my Peace Corps service left, I've given away most of the things which had been in the apartment I've been renting. Yesterday a couple of my fellow PCVs (Peace Corps Volunteers), who are much earlier in their service than I am, came here to town and took away some of the last few remaining items. One of them got a grand taxi to drive her to my residence, where the refrigerator I've been using got loaded on top of the taxi and tied down with rope. Another PCV got a grand taxi to come to my place. She took away the ponj, the lightweight foam rectangular cube-like sofa on which I'd been sleeping for the last three months while I've been here in town.

Later in the day yesterday, I emptied the bedroom and swept it. Then I set up a sleeping space in the bedroom, composed of a heavy winter blanket as padding on the floor, covered by a fitted sheet, with a heavy winter blanket to cover me in the slight overnight chill which has started to descend upon us here in the Sahara. In light of how I've been recently enjoying giving away more and more possessions, I viewed this new, simple sleeping arrangement in a satisfying manner, and thought, "All right, now we're really starting to get somewhere!"

Having given away the fridge, now I need to drink all of the milk I buy in one sitting. Thus, I stopped buying one-liter boxes of milk, since I normally wouldn't drink that much milk all at once. Although a one-liter box of milk only costs 9 dirhams, which is equivalent to a little more than one US dollar, since I got rid of my fridge, I've started buying small cold bags of milk which cost 3 dirhams each. Thus, yesterday after my friend and fellow PCV took away the fridge, I went and bought a small bag of cold milk. I was bringing it back to the apartment to eat with an amlou and strawberry jam sandwich. I recently blogged about amlou, which is essentially Moroccan peanut butter. However, I don't think that that amlou I'd previously bought contained argan oil. The amlou I'm currently using contains argan oil, almonds, sugar, salt, fennel, and vegetable oil. So I suppose that it's really like almond butter rather than peanut butter.

In any case, I was arriving back at the apartment to enjoy an amlou and strawberry jam sandwich with some cold milk when I noticed that my neighbor, a Moroccan fellow who teaches French here in town, was also arriving at the apartment building with some of his friends, who are also teachers here in town. My neighbor invited me into his apartment to have tea with them. It was in the late afternoon, or perhaps already the early evening, at that hour of day when Moroccans have kaskroute, which is like an afternoon snack.

I joined them for kaskroute. We sat on the floor around a low, round table in my neighbor's living room, drinking tea and eating dates and peanuts. When I finished my tea, my host filled my tea glass. When I finished the second glass of tea, I kept my tea glass by my side. I didn't want him to fill it again. The teapot was rather small and no one else had yet enjoyed a second glass. Despite keeping my glass at my side, nevertheless my host noted that I had again drained it. He asked me if I wanted more tea. I politely declined.

After we had finished having kaskroute, we were standing in the hallway of his apartment. Two of his friends started wrestling with each other. Moroccan males sometimes wrestle standing up, seeing which of them can best the other in the friendly contest. Soon after the brief wrestling match, I took my leave of them, glad that I had snacked with them.

Today I made sure to visit a family here in town whom I've visited from time to time while I've lived here. I wanted to be sure to see them again before I leave town. First we had tea and peanuts. A little while later, we had lunch, sitting on the floor around a low, square table. For lunch we had lentils and beef, each of us ripping apart pieces of bread to grab lentils and beef from the part of the communal dish which was closest to each of us. For dessert, we enjoyed grapes and apples.

After we had had dessert, I bid adieu to most of them. As I was walking back to my apartment, their son was walking with me for part of the way. At one point he asked me if I go to church. I told him that whenever I can go to church, I do indeed go to church, since it's important to me to do so. Then I added that at times, it's been hard living here in Morocco, because I haven't always been able to go to church here; there's no church here in town, and I'm not otherwise always near a church. However, I shared with him that we learn more when we're having a difficult time than we learn when we're comfortable. I suggested to him that I believe that God allows us to face trials and tribulations because in such trying circumstances, we learn and grow and develop. I've been grateful for such opportunities to learn and grow while I've been a PCV. Indeed, I became a PCV so that I would learn through facing difficulties. I'm glad to say that I feel like I have benefited from living in certain trying circumstances here. For that reason and for others, I feel like my decision to enter the Peace Corps has been an investment which has been paying off.

Enjoying Just Walking In The Park

As I rapidly approach my COS (Completion Of Service, or Close Of Service) date, I've been appreciating in a new light various elements of my experience here in Morocco.  Of course, with less than two weeks left until I finish my Peace Corps service, I'm conscious that I don't have a lot of time left to experience in person the benefits of life here. 

In this town where I live here in the Sahara, I've enjoyed walking through the palmerie, which is the massive grove of palm trees which stretches in, through, and out of this town on both ends.  It's so extensive that you can't see the ends of it even when you're on top of the mountains near the town.  I feel a serenity and calming influence there amongst the quiet of the palms.

In addition to the tranquility of the palmerie, it also teems with a variety of life.  I most often have seen dates hanging from the palms, and have been very happy to savor the sweetness of many dates plucked from the palmerie.  However, I've also seen apples, apricots, and pomegranates growing in the palmerie. 

We often enjoy fantastic weather here in town.  On many days, the sky beams blue.  It rarely rains here in town.  In any case, I've always been able to see the nearby mountains when I've gone for walks in the palmerie here.

For quite a while, I'd been wanting to go for a moonlit stroll through the palmerie.  After noticing over a period of a few days that the moon had been getting fuller and fuller, I found out that the moon would be rising around the hour of sunset.  In yet another fortunate turn, the weather had been clear day after day as the moon was becoming more and more full.  Accordingly, a couple of nights ago, I headed out for a moonlit walk through the palmerie.

I purposely chose a route which took me, for the most part, on wider paths so that my way would be less likely to be darkened by moon shadows being cast by mud walls or palm trees.  Consequently, for most of my walk, I was able to see where I was stepping.  By the light of the moon, I also enjoyed seeing across fields there in the palmerie. 

During my nighttime excursion through the palmerie, I not only was glad to experience the palmerie under a different type and amount of light, but I was also pleased to be experiencing its beauty and serenity in an even more quiet setting than usual.  Although I heard some dogs barking far away, usually I only heard a chorus of crickets as I walked under the palms. 

I also was glad to be walking through the palmerie at such a late and unusual hour since I was alone.  Discounting the three toads I saw hopping along at a few different points, I didn't see anyone else the entire time I was on my nighttime stroll through the palmerie.  When I walk in the palmerie during the day, usually I pass someone at some point.  So while I typically walk through the palmerie mostly alone, I appreciated the experience of walking there even more when I was doing so late at night, in complete solitude. 

On my moonlit stroll, I spent about 40 minutes in the palmerie, exiting it a few minutes after midnight.  I was glad that despite feeling fatigued, I had made myself get up and go out for the late night visit to the palmerie.  On that trip, I got to experience a place I very much enjoy, but from a new perspective, which has helped me to appreciate it in new ways.

Since the palmerie is so huge, there are so many trails to explore that I've probably only hiked a tiny percentage of the palmerie's paths.  It certainly has been a tremendous blessing from God to have what is essentially such an immense park here in the town where I have been living, and for one which I have been extremely grateful to God.

The Sun Is Setting On My Peace Corps Service

I'm getting so close to the end of my Peace Corps service that when I do a lot of things now, it's the last time that I'm going to do them here in Morocco.  Today I went to the city that's near my town, making the last round-trip journey during my Peace Corps service to that city.

Very early this morning, here in Morocco, we shifted our clocks one hour back, so that we're once again on "old time," as folks here sometimes put it, or in the time zone of GMT (Greenwich Mean Time).  However, not everyone alters their schedule to conform to the time change.  So, just to be safe, I showed up at the bus station as if the time change hadn't occurred.  Sure enough, the bus was there at the bus station as if the time change hadn't happened.  I was glad that I got up an hour early to catch the bus!

When I got to the city, I made my way to a cafe I've frequented there in that city.  I was enjoying the glorious day, the brilliant blue sky and the temperate weather as I savored a "nuss-nuss," (Darija, or Moroccan Arabic, for "half-half"), which, in the context of going to a cafe, is a cup filled half with coffee and half with milk.  Moroccan coffee tends to be pretty strong, so usually I order a nuss-nuss, rather than follow my practice in the US of ordering a cup filled mostly with coffee and a little milk.  Even so, a nuss-nuss often still gives me a minor case of the jitters!

As I was sitting outside, basking in the sunshine and enjoying my hot beverage, I saw a girl, perhaps in her late teens, ride a bicycle around the roundabout, her head covered in a hijab, that is, a headscarf.  Upon seeing her exercise her freedom of movement, I was reminded of the words of a young friend of mine, another Moroccan teenage girl.  While traveling outside Morocco, she had recently met Muslim girls from other nations and realized that she and other Moroccan girls enjoy freedoms which Muslim girls in certain other countries don't have.  I was glad to hear my friend's thoughts, her realizations about her life and the world.  I was happy that her realm of experience had been widened such that she had altered her perceptions of herself, her life, other girls, and the world around her.  Observing the Moroccan girl on the bicycle this morning, I once again began to wonder how I'm going to process my cultural observations from Morocco once I'm back in the US and have the changed perspective of being back in the states.

After my visit to the cafe, there in the city I attended Bible study with some of my Christian expat friends who live here in Morocco.  I've been so thankful to God for the fellowship and spiritual community I've shared with them, getting to worship God and celebrate His blessings with them.  I certainly didn't expect to live in a location here in Morocco where I would be able to commune regularly with other Christians, so I've been very grateful for their presence, care, warmth and support of me in my Christian faith.  After Bible study, we had a lovely outdoor barbeque, with grilled chicken and sausages, potato casserole, cake and cookies, among other delicious food.  I felt better after getting to say goodbye to my Christian brothers and sisters there, as well as to some fellow PCVs (Peace Corps Volunteers) who were there in the city today.  I feel like I get more of a proper sense of closure, putting me more at ease, when, in person and with sufficient time, I get to properly say goodbye to people. And, in this particular context of completing my Peace Corps service, when I get to say proper goodbyes, I feel like I'm appropriately preparing to leave this country where I have lived for two years.

On the bus ride back here to the town where I live here in the Sahara, I consciously looked at this town as we approached it, realizing that surely it was the last time I would view it from that location and angle during my Peace Corps service, and, quite probably, for the last time at all.  Returning here to town so late in the day, admiring the sun setting on the mountains near this town, I considered an analogy of the scope of the sun today to my Peace Corps service.  As the sun set today, so the sun is setting on my Peace Corps service.

Mixing US Culture And Host Country Culture

Among the many culinary creations I enjoy are jelly doughnuts.  I've been looking forward to having some when I get back to the states.

In the meantime, while I've been living here in Morocco, from time to time I enjoy "shfinj," which are Moroccan fried doughnuts.  I've been glad that one shop here in the town where I live in the Sahara sells shfinj.

I'd been thinking for a while of buying not only shfinj again, but also some strawberry jelly and making some shfinj into jelly doughnuts.  Accordingly, yesterday some of us at the dar shebab (Darija, or Moroccan Arabic, for "youth center"), where I do most of my volunteering as a PCV (Peace Corps Volunteer), went and got some shfinj, strawberry jelly and granulated sugar.  Although the shfinj they sell here in town have holes in the middle, we cut open the sides and stuffed them with strawberry jelly.  Then we sprinkled some granulated sugar on top of them.

I explained to the dar shebab moudir (Darija for "director") and some of the kids there that some of the doughnuts in the US resemble the creations we were eating.  Thus we took a little bit of the culture here in Morocco, added in some elements used in similar cultural offerings in the US, and had a bit of cross-cultural exchange--in the form of some tasty treats!

Losing Fluency In English Redux

My COS (Completion Of Service, or Close Of Service) date is two weeks from today.  Consequently, I've been working on transitioning out of my service.  I've been preparing to leave the town where I've been living here in the Sahara for the better part of two years.  I've been looking ahead to the adjustments I'll be making once I finish my Peace Corps service.

Of course I'll be adjusting to life after Morocco as a result of how I've been living here in Morocco.  While I've lived here in Morocco, I've gotten used to operating in certain ways.  For one thing, I've been speaking English less than I did in the states.  It is true that many people here in Morocco know enough English that a good deal of the time, people speak with me in English, and, consequently, I speak with them in English.  Nevertheless, much of the time I'm speaking Darija, that is, Moroccan Arabic, or French.  Thus I've been speaking less English than I did in the states.

As a result of speaking English less often, PCVs (Peace Corps Volunteers) sometimes stumble when they try to speak English.  Yesterday I had exactly such trouble, as I was on my way back from this cyber, when I crossed paths with one of the students who often comes to the dar shebab (Darija for "youth center"), where I've done most of my volunteering as a PCV here in Morocco.

He asked me, "You was in the cyber?"

I corrected him, "You were in the cyber."

He posed his question rephrased, "You were in the cyber?"

I replied, "I was in the cyber," but then I immediately doubted whether I had correctly conjugated the verb "to be"!  Hopefully I'm not going to have trouble speaking English once I'm back in the US!

Some Snapshots Of Morocco Right Now

Since loved ones back home always ask me how I'm doing here in Morocco, I thought I would simply provide some slices of life here in Morocco from the last few days. I thought people might appreciate some narrative snapshots, that is, some brief descriptions, of what I've recently experienced.

As I mentioned in my last blog entry, I was in Marrakech this past weekend. While walking down the street, I saw everyone simply going about their usual business. I often enjoy seeing women on motorcycles in Marrakech. I saw a woman, with her head completely uncovered, who was riding a motorcycle. I saw another woman who was wearing a hijab, or headscarf, who was riding a motorcycle. I saw a man riding a motorcycle with a completely veiled woman as his passenger. I looked down the street and saw it filled with the same traffic I always see. People were just going around the city as usual.

Despite my visit to Marrakech happening on typical days there, I had an unusual visit there, since I met up with a good number of my fellow PCVs to say goodbye to them. I knew that I wasn't going to get to say goodbye to them if I didn't see them there in Marrakech that weekend, so I went up to the city to spend some time with them and bid adieu to them in person. I felt calmer, and less separation anxiety, about parting ways with them once I had said proper goodbyes with them.

Once I had gotten back here to the town where I live down here in the Sahara, again I saw people simply going about their business. I was struck by one very brief slice from my day yesterday. In the space of literally one minute yesterday, a man who I'd recently met stopped and chatted with me for a moment or two, grinning from ear to ear. In that same minute, I exchanged waves with a city hall employee who was passing me on his motorcycle. And in that brief span of time, I stopped and shook hands with one of the kids who lives on the block where I live, which made me smile.

So, in case you've been wondering, this is what my world looks like. This has been my recent experience here.

Being Content Despite The Circumstances

Not only can you have valuable and insightful self-realizations in humbling and austere circumstances, but, I would contend, you're actually more likely to have such realizations under such conditions. I feel like I had such helpful musings today during a stop on my return trip south from Marrakech, after I went there for the weekend.

Soon before I left Marrakech, I was sweating since it has been hot there. Hence I was happy that I was taking a CTM bus back south to the Sahara. CTM buses are newer, cleaner, brighter, and safer than most other buses here in Morocco. Given that CTM buses are nicer than most other buses here, the air conditioning was on in full force on the bus. I had both of the vents above me completely open, and with the cold air blasting down on me, it felt downright chilly despite the heat outside the bus.

I spent much of the trip south from Marrakech admiring the landscape. While we were riding through the High Atlas mountains, I pointed out a waterfall to a couple of friendly, pleasant French tourists sitting across the aisle from me. Soon after that, we went over the Tichka Pass, at an elevation of 2260 meters, or 7414 feet, above sea level.

When the bus stopped for a lunch break in the small town of Agouim, about one hour north of Ouarzazate, I got off the bus and looked across the street, at the line of shops there. I walked across the street to find some shade. In small Moroccan towns, most shops, including hanoots (Darija, or Moroccan Arabic, for "grocery stores"), close at lunchtime, starting between 12:00 p.m. and 1:00 p.m., and re-open in the latter half of the afternoon. Given that it was nearly 2:00 p.m., I had no trouble finding a closed shop, where I sat on some unused steps.

I pulled out the round bread and the can of tuna in tomato sauce which I'd bought this morning in Marrakech. When I know that I'm going to be traveling during lunchtime, I try to bring a sandwich, or at least what I need to make a sandwich. A lot of the time when buses make these pit stops, they stop in towns where folks sell street food, that is, food that's cooked on the sidewalk. When I eat street food here, I get sick; thus, usually I don't eat it. Consequently, I was glad that I had brought along this food; I was happy to be packing the tuna into the bread and eating it.

After a little while, I became conscious that I was happy to be sitting there eating my lunch amidst discarded tires and scattered garbage. I wondered what had happened to me. Earlier in my Peace Corps service, I had been disgusted and irritated to be constantly surrounded by trash. I wondered if people would think me radically different when I arrive back in the states.

Then I considered how, before I'd started making and eating my sandwich, I'd disinfected my hands with hand sanitizer. I still have some of the same outwardly visible habits I'd had before I came here to Morocco. I figured that people back home wouldn't think I'd become a completely different person. I came to a similar conclusion again after I'd finished eating, when I cleaned my hands with a sanitizing hand wipe.

It's not that I haven't changed in significant ways. I have changed in a variety of ways. Yet I've also retained certain habits. As I noted above, I've changed how I approach the phenomenon of garbage on the ground here. It's not that I no longer care about it; I certainly do still care about it. I just don't let it irritate me. I do what I can about it. I've done environmental lessons about properly disposing of trash and respecting the environment, and I've otherwise tried to instruct youths about properly getting rid of garbage. Knowing that I've been doing something about it, I'm less prone to get angry about it.

Yet it's not just about doing something about it. Yes, if you care, you're going to do something about it. But I'm not less bothered by trash on the ground simply because I've been trying to address it. I'm also increasingly more at peace with my surroundings, because I've been endeavoring to value what's most important in life. Thus I try to focus on what nourishes me, and especially what is most essential, namely treasuring how God feeds my spirit, and I try to ignore what ultimately are more trivial matters.

I've always strived to live as simply as possible. I've always tried to value most highly those gifts of each day which have been most supportive and nourishing of my mind, body and spirit.

Thus, I realized, as I was sitting on that concrete stoop, eating my lunch amidst scraps of garbage, that I was content merely because I had food to eat. I found irrelevant the circumstances in which I was eating it. I try to focus on what's important. I thank God for my daily bread.

Friday Lunch In Morocco

Last Friday, I went to the home of one of my favorite families here in Morocco. They live in the town where I live down in the Sahara. If you don't know people well here in Morocco, it's proper etiquette not to show up at their home unannounced. On the other hand, if you've established a warm, familiar connection, it's acceptable to arrive at their home without having been invited on a specific day when you arrive at their home. Indeed, it almost seems that it's expected that you'll show up unannounced. With this particular family, in the past when I hadn't shown up to dine at their home for weeks, and then when I ran into them while out and about in town, they asked me where I had been and when I would be coming over to their home.

Accordingly, as it had been a few weeks since I had been at their home due to my recent travels, last Friday I went to their home for lunch. Given that it was Friday, they served couscous for lunch. Moroccans usually eat couscous for lunch on Fridays. Thus when it was time to eat, around 2:30 p.m., one of the daughters in the family brought out a large tajine filled with couscous. The word "tajine" refers either to the stew-like culinary creation bearing that name, or to the actual clay pottery in which either the tajine stew, or, instead in this particular case, couscous, is served. To keep the meal warm, the high, pointed clay pottery tajine lid is kept on top of the tajine dish until the meal is served. In the large tajine dish which was about 18 inches wide, on this particular day the couscous was topped with well-cooked carrot and pumpkin.

When she brought the couscous, she brought a few spoons for us to use in eating the couscous directly out of the communal tajine dish. Her sister, however, as usual, ate the couscous without a spoon, as some Moroccans do. She gathered some couscous from the tajine dish and rolled it into a ball in her hand and brought it to her mouth in her hand.

After we had finished with the couscous, we had some muskmelon for dessert, which I always enjoy. I find the muskmelon quite refreshing during warm weather such as we're having in the Sahara now.

As I rapidly approach my COS (Completion Of Service, or Close Of Service) date, which, at this point, is now less than a month away, I'm beginning to note in a fresher, almost urgent kind of way, what I have been appreciating during my time here in Morocco. I certainly include the hospitality I've experienced here, including at lunch last Friday, amongst the aspects of my experience here for which I've been most grateful to God.

Twilight: My Two-Year Anniversary In Morocco

Today is my two-year anniversary of my arrival here in Morocco. I arrived in Morocco as a PCT (Peace Corps Trainee) on September 15, 2010. My COS (Completion Of Service, or Close Of Service) date is less than a month away. Thus I am in the twilight of my Peace Corps service. People have been asking me how I feel about my Peace Corps service, now that it is about to end. I feel pretty good.

When I started applying to the Peace Corps, initially in 2008, at that point already for at least a dozen years I'd already wanted to be in the Peace Corps. I wanted to live in a foreign country, and more specifically in Africa. I'd always envisioned my Peace Corps service being in the Sahara. I'd been wanting to live somewhere where I'd be speaking a foreign language. I'd already been wanting to teach for well over a dozen years. And it had long been important to me to help impoverished persons, as the Bible instructs. Thus, I supposed that teaching English classes in the Peace Corps would be a fine way to do all of these things.

Indeed, I've enjoyed teaching English, and I've enjoyed doing the other work I've done here in Morocco as a PCV (Peace Corps Volunteer). While teaching, I've mostly taught English, though I've also taught lessons about geography, health and the environment during my service. During the process of teaching here, I've learned how to teach better, learning for which I have been grateful.

I've come to see how, just as the Peace Corps encourages PCVs to conceptualize, teaching English can be a vehicle, a means, to other, more significant, ends. I've taught English as a means of addressing gender issues and as a way of leading youths to develop further their logical reasoning and critical thinking abilities.

While teaching English, I've sought to catalyze boys to consider their responsibility to respect the human rights of girls and women. I've tried to spur them to evaluate how they may support women and girls and promote their human rights by the seemingly mundane choices they make in what seem to be their everyday, routine lives. As I've taught English, I've sought to empower girls by encouraging them in the classroom. I've had them consider their own perceptions of themselves, and I've suggested to boys that they be more conscious of how they perceive girls.

I've introduced logical reasoning and critical thinking elements into English lessons to suggest to youths that they might want to question their own assumptions. I've tried to help them to be more objective. I've hoped that perhaps they've expanded their minds. I've hoped that in taking these reasoning approaches, they've realized things about themselves and their world.

In addition to this work I've done, I've made new friends. I've established connections here, both with Moroccans and with other PCVs, which I value.

However, I can't help but think that I might have benefited more than the students and others I've taught and tutored here. I feel that I have gained enormously during my time here in terms of my own personal journey.

On a relatively superficial level, I have indeed been living in a foreign country, and more specifically in Africa, and even more specifically in the Sahara, as I had wanted to do for so long. I've admired some beautiful landscape in this country, and while I've been here in town, I've often enjoyed taking walks in a calm, serene palmerie, the massive grove of palm trees which stretches through this town where I've been living.

But more deeply, while I've lived here in Morocco, I have enjoyed a simple lifestyle. I haven't missed the money and property I had back in the states. Indeed, as I've neared my COS date, and have come to shed more and more property, I've been yearning to jettison more and more physical possessions from my life.

I've greatly enjoyed the solitude I've had here. I've used it to read the entire Bible and re-read a significant portion of it. I've used my free time, with its peace and quiet, to pray and meditate, and to study the Word of God.

I've been very grateful to God for the spiritual community I've experienced with other expat Christians here in Morocco. I've cherished the opportunities I've had to worship God and celebrate God's many blessings with them. I've come to appreciate much more the ability to go to church, since, while I've been living here in Morocco, I've not always been in a location here where there is a church.

As a PCV, I've been grateful for the camaraderie and support I've experienced with and from my fellow PCVs. I've also been glad to live in this community where I've been living here in the Sahara. I've felt satisfaction and fulfillment in serving the community here, teaching and doing other work while I've lived here.

While serving here, I've often felt challenged by this culture. I haven't felt like my personality meshes well with Moroccan culture. Indeed, I've often thought that, in placing me here, the Peace Corps was doing something akin to trying to mix oil and water. However, in experiencing the challenges I've encountered here, I've realized that such difficulties present opportunities to grow and to learn, not just about another culture and the people who are native to it, but also to learn about oneself.

I've experienced the most emotionally challenging period in my life during my Peace Corps service, largely as I struggled to deal with culture shock and adjusted to life in a culture significantly different than in the culture in which I had been accustomed to living previously during all of my life. In grappling with these circumstances, I've been reminded of how Francis Collins, in his book "The Language Of God: A Scientist Presents Evidence For Belief," muses, "Hard though it is to accept, a complete absence of suffering may not be in the best interest of our spiritual growth." Indeed, one would do well to ponder the question, Do we learn more from a comfortable situation, or from trying circumstances?

Ultimately such metamorphosis, painful and unpleasant though it has often been, due to its attendant growth and learning, has been one of the more profound reasons why I have valued my time here so much. Learning, growing, becoming more than one had been, while serving and giving to others, this is part of the meaning of life.

Thus when circumstances not only seem less than ideal, when not only do we not get what we desire, but events are additionally incredibly trying and stressful, and seem to stretch us to our limits, something better, something more, something deeply and wonderfully transformative lies waiting for us on the other side, as described in Hebrews 11:39-40:

These were all commended for their faith,
yet none of them received what had been promised,
since God had planned something better for us
so that only together with us would they be made perfect.

Squeaky Wheel Gets The Grease

Yesterday my Regional Manager, who is a Peace Corps staff member, came to my site, that is, the town in which I live down here in the Sahara. She was here to do a site visit for my site mate David, the other PCV (Peace Corps Volunteer) who also lives here in town. She also visited the site of another my fellow PCVs, Ariana, who lives in a village about five kilometers south of here. She came here to help each of them as they adjust to living in their sites.

My fellow PCV in the nearby village called me and let me know that our Regional Manager would be driving her up here into town. I went and met them at the post office, since I have been holding the key to the post office box which I have been sharing with each of these two other nearby PCVs. I retrieved the envelope from the post office box which had arrived for my fellow PCV.

Then our Regional Manager went with us to the electricity company office. My fellow PCV still hasn't received an electricity bill, even though she's been living in her apartment for a few months. I also asked the electricity company employee behind the counter when the bills would be delivered since I hadn't yet received one, and since usually I have already received one by this point in the month. The electricity company told us that the electricity bills would be delivered soon. He asked me where I lived here in town, trying to confirm his belief about where I lived. I confirmed his perception of where I lived.

Today I received my electricity bill under my door. I didn't intend to try to get my bill delivered more quickly, but I suspect that it might have arrived more quickly because I was in the office and asked when it would be arriving!

A Bus Ride In Morocco

Recently on my way back to the town where I live here in the Sahara, I was trying to catch a bus south from Marrakech. I went to the CTM bus station, but found that both of the CTM buses out of Marrakech which would be headed down here were already full. I walked to the SupraTours bus station, but soon learned that the SupraTours bus south to the Sahara was also full. Accordingly, I went to the main bus station there in Marrakech, where I was able to get on a bus back south. At the main bus station, one catches buses less fancy than CTM buses and SupraTours buses. The buses are older and generally less comfortable. PCVs (Peace Corps Volunteers) refer to these buses as "souq buses," because the driver will let you off wherever you like; thus you can take these buses to the souq, or the farmer's market, whereas CTM buses and SupraTours buses generally won't make special stops for you such as at the farmer's market. 

Once I'd gotten my bus ticket, I found my bus and boarded it. When I ride buses here in Morocco, if I can, I always sit in the row furthest back. On the route I travel south from Marrakech back to the town where I live here in the Sahara, the buses go through the High Atlas mountains, and over the Tichka Pass. The buses make many turns on this curvy route. Consequently many people get motion sickness and become nauseous and end up vomiting. Given that I both don't get motion sickness, and given that I also don't want anyone sitting behind me potentially vomiting on me, I always sit in the row furthest back if there's an empty seat there for me. Thus on this particular day, I was sitting all the way in the back of the bus. Admittedly the spot where I was sitting didn't look that comfortable. Thus the Moroccan man sitting across the aisle from me asked me if I was sitting in a good seat. I replied in Darija, that is, in Moroccan Arabic, that it wasn't a good seat, but that I was a little insane. One is always likely to elicit a laugh if one insinuates that one is crazy. Accordingly, the man laughed, and, as people here do when they think that someone has made a good joke, he shook my hand.

Soon after we had this laugh, we were visited by some folks on the bus who did not end up traveling with us. Moroccans who are not traveling walk onto these less fancy buses and peddle different things, most commonly bottles of water, snacks, shoes and jewelry. Moroccans also walk onto the buses asking for alms. After I'd boarded this bus, there was quite a while until we were going to leave. Thus multiple people boarded the bus trying to sell their various items.

At one point the Moroccan man sitting across the aisle from me was surrounded by four kids, seemingly about eight to twelve years old. They were trying to sell him different things, which I believe included water and gum. Noting the little gathering around him, I suggested to him in Darija, "It's a little market here on the bus." Later, after the kids had left, I joked with him that if someone has to go shopping, he or she doesn't have to go to a hanoot, which is Darija for "grocery store." Rather, all someone has to do is board a souq bus and sit there for a little while before it leaves, and someone can do all of his or her shopping there on the bus. Of course, I exaggerate. One can't buy anything and everything from the folks who board trying to peddle their goods. For example, after my comment that being aboard a souq bus just before it leaves is like being at the market, that fellow sitting across the aisle from me noted that no one had come aboard the bus trying to sell vegetables.

And indeed, people are limited in how many different types of things they can sell on the buses partly due to time constraints. After a while, we were off on our way south from Marrakech and on to the High Atlas mountains. When we were passing through some of the highest spots on that road, I was pleased to yet again spot a waterfall, despite it being so long since the winter, thus with presumably less melting snow to feed a waterfall. Thus I was happy that day not only to get in some good laughs, sharing some humor with one of my fellow passengers, but I was also glad to get to enjoy some natural beauty on my way back south to the Sahara.