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.  

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.  

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! 

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.

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.

Some Tasty Treats

During my recent travels, I was happy to get to enjoy some b'ghrir, as well as milwi, which is also known as missimen. B'ghrir and milwi are a couple of tasty treats often enjoyed at breakfast here in Morocco. B'ghrir is like a small, round pancake with a light, spongy texture which contains a lot of little holes in it. Milwi, or missimen, is also flat, but is flakier and heavier than b'ghrir. Milwi is cooked in roughly square shapes with rounded edges. Moroccans sometimes eat b'ghrir and milwi plain, with no toppings of any kind. But sometimes they eat b'ghrir and milwi with honey or jam, which is how I prefer to eat milwi and b'ghrir, unless I'm eating the savory kind of milwi, which I prefer to eat plain. When I've eaten the savory kind of milwi, it has seemed to have tiny pieces of vegetables woven into it.

While I often see folks cooking b'ghrir and milwi at shops on the street, that is, at shops with grills actually on the sidewalk, I tend to avoid street food. Invariably I develop some sort of digestive difficulties if and when I eat street food. Given that I thus often pass up opportunities to eat b'ghrir and milwi, I was happy to get to eat some b'ghrir and milwi in the last couple of weeks. When I was in Rabat for my COS (Completion Of Service, or Close Of Service) Conference, the hotel served b'ghrir and milwi for breakfast on certain mornings. More recently, when I was in Marrakech, I happily enjoyed some savory milwi at a rather nice bakery there.

When I was in Rabat, I also picked up some amlou, which is essentially Moroccan organic peanut butter. While I've found amlou here in the town where I live down here in the Sahara, I haven't bought any here in town. While I want to support smaller, more local vendors whenever I can, here in town I only found amlou which is bottled in used plastic water bottles. I'd wondered how many people had drank out of the bottle before the amlou had been added to the bottle. I'd also imagined that a lot of plastic might have leeched out of the bottle. I do think it's great that Moroccans reuse plastic bottles, but I also suspect that they might use them too long, considering health concerns. Anyway, when I was in Rabat, I bought some amlou in jars in a supermarket. I've been enjoying it on what are essentially peanut butter and jam sandwiches. On some bread I spread some amlou, then add some Aicha brand jam, which is my favorite jam here in Morocco, I believe since it contains pectin, which I think helps the jam hold together well and have a firm consistency.

As I rapidly approach my COS date, which, at this point, is less than one month away, I'm continuing to enjoy some tasty treats here. I've been thankful to God that I've been able to enjoy some tasty treats while I've been living here in Morocco!

COS (Completion of Service) Conference

This week I was in Rabat for my COS (Completion Of Service, or Close Of Service) Conference. Although my COS date, when I'll return to Peace Corps Headquarters in Rabat to officially stop being a PCV (Peace Corps Volunteer), won't be until next month, Peace Corps holds the COS Conference a little bit before PCVs actually close their service. At the COS Conference, Peace Corps helps PCVs prepare to complete their service.

During the COS Conference this week, Peace Corps held sessions on a variety of topics. We've got tasks to do in multiple areas, and we're processing and reflecting on our experiences in various ways, so this week Peace Corps helped us to get these tasks done and to consider our time here.

Near the beginning of the COS Conference, Peace Corps held a session on medical concerns, during which they gave us an overview of the medical attention we would receive during the COS Conference. During that session, medical staff instructed us about the medical samples we would have to provide during the COS Conference. They also reminded us how our COS physical examinations and dental cleanings would be done, which also occurred this week. They looked ahead and explained how we'll be able to receive medical care once we stop being PCVs, that is, once we're RPCVs (Returned Peace Corps Volunteers).

During another session, Peace Corps staff gave us printed copies of our aspiration statements, which we had authored before coming here to Morocco. In our aspiration statements, we had written about professional attributes we had planned to use, and the aspirations we had hoped to fulfill, during our Peace Corps service. In these statements, we had also described strategies we had had about working effectively with Moroccans, and strategies for adapting to a new culture. In the aspiration statements, we had also noted skills and knowledge we had hoped to gain during PST (Pre-Service Training). In these statements, we had imagined how our Peace Corps service would influence our personal and professional goals. In re-reading our aspiration statements, we reflected on whence we had come and what we had hoped to do during our Peace Corps service, and where we had arrived through our cultural odyssey here in Morocco, what we had done along the way, and how we got to this point in our service. We considered our accomplishments over the last couple of years in light of what we had hoped to do while here in Morocco.

Peace Corps staff also ran a session on readjusting to life in the US. Some of the staff working for Peace Corps in Morocco have lived for extensive periods, as in a dozen years, in the US. Thus they've been readjusting to life here in Morocco after living in the US for so long. During the session on readjustment, Peace Corps staff shared their experiences, including their frustration they've felt here in Morocco, as they try to readjust to life here in Morocco.

During another session, Peace Corps staff had us PCVs discuss questions which RPCVs are commonly asked once they've finished their Peace Corps service and have moved back to the US. It seems that once RPCVs arrive back in the US, they experience frustration when asked certain types of questions, particularly those which generalize or are otherwise insensitive, so Peace Corps staff tries to prepare PCVs for such questions.

A panel of a half dozen RPCVs spoke to us during one session. Some of them served here in Morocco, but most of them served as PCVs in other countries. They served as PCVs at various points in the past, one as recently as within the last year, and others more than fifteen years ago. They spoke to us about readjusting to life in the US. They also shared their thoughts on what to do after Peace Corps service, which included thoughts on job hunting as well as on graduate school.

We also had a session on services which Peace Corps provides to RPCVs, including once they're back in the US. We learned about help which Peace Corps provides in finding jobs. We also got some pointers on how to describe our Peace Corps service on our resumes.

Peace Corps staff gave us some guidance on writing the DOS (Description Of Service) which every PCV must write about himself or herself. In the DOS, a PCV describes when he or she arrived in his or her country of service, the training he or she received there, where he or she lived during his or her service, and the work he or she did as a PCV in his or her country of service. The DOS goes on file with Peace Corps and is the official record of the PCV's service. Each of us had time during the week of the COS Conference to write a DOS. Thus by the time the COS Conference had ended, each of us was able to e-mail a final draft of our DOS to Peace Corps staff here, who will review it before signing it and making it official.

Peace Corps staff also administered LPIs (Language Proficiency Interviews) during the COS Conference. That is, they tested our proficiency in whatever language we've been speaking for the last two years, whether it has been Darija, which is Moroccan Arabic, or whether it has been one of the Berber languages, which, for PCVs here in Morocco, is either Tashelheit or Tamazight.

During an administrative session, Peace Corps staff listed the numerous tasks we should be sure to complete before our COS dates. They reviewed how we will have to close our bank accounts. They added that we should inform the post office and the gendarmes, who are our local law enforcement officers, as well as our local government officials in the towns in which we live, of our impending departures.

Peace Corps staff also held a session on safety and security matters. We were asked why we thought they were addressing safety and security at this late stage of our service. Perhaps some of us thought that we've been here so long that there's no need for us to discuss safety and security concerns. But I agree with Peace Corps staff that we needed such a session precisely because many of us may have become lax and careless about safety and security here. We've been here so long that we think that we know how things work here. It's possible that at this point, some PCVs have stopped being vigilant and alert, and are thus more at risk to become crime victims. Or if some PCVs have become more and more frustrated over the course of their service, they might lash out against someone and escalate a tense or otherwise dangerous situation, thereby increasing a risk of harm to themselves. Hence I felt that the time was well-spent talking about safety and security concerns.

The Ambassador to Morocco and his spouse visited us during our COS Conference. I was struck by how they spent most of their time with us in asking us questions about Morocco. They wanted to know what we had observed, what we had learned during our Peace Corps service here. I was very impressed that, despite the Ambassador's position of significant stature and authority, that he and his spouse acted with much notable humility in asking us questions, since, in doing so, they showed that they felt that they had something to learn from us.

We also had a session in which we were able to provide programming feedback. Thus, those of us PCVs completing our service in the next couple of months, being Youth Development PCVs and Small Business Development PCVs, provided feedback to Peace Corps staff about how Peace Corps has run its Youth Development and Small Business Development volunteering programs for PCVs. We offered suggestions on how various programming operations could be improved.

Each of us also had a chance to speak with the Country Director of the Peace Corps here in Morocco. During these individual exit interviews, which provided ample time to speak with her, she asked us how we feel about our Peace Corps service as we prepare to COS. She inquired about challenges and successes we've faced here. I was glad not only that she asked us for our feedback, but that she seemed to respond appropriately to different types of feedback. I felt that she was honestly listening and that she would deal appropriately with various matters.

I left the COS Conference feeling fairly well-prepared for what lies ahead in certain ways. I feel well-equipped to handle administrative tasks and other matters I have to handle in the days ahead.

As the week progressed, I was feeling a bit anxious, since there was much to get done in an effort to get things squared away as instructed. As I got more done, I became a bit calmer.

However, I also realized that I was feeling a good deal of separation anxiety this week. Many of us PCVs who are about to complete our service here acknowledged to each other that some of us probably won't ever see each other again. We're all going to actually officially stop being PCVs on different dates, so we won't all be at Peace Corps Headquarters here in Morocco for the last time at the same time. As the time neared for me to leave Rabat, I got to say goodbye to my fellow PCVs. In just getting to say goodbye, I felt better. In saying our farewells, I felt that we had one last chance to connect, that is, to say proper goodbyes, which seemed to help.

And as I move forward, I'm facing a great deal of uncertainty about what is going to come next. While I've been looking forward to discerning what's going to happen next in my life, I'm more curious, eager, and hungry to know, more than concerned. Multiple times while I've been here in Morocco, including this summer, I've revisited Matthew 6:34, with its guidance "Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." Therefore, I've been increasingly endeavoring to go forward in the faith I have that God is guiding me toward the next steps in my life. As I take each step, the next one subsequently will become clear to me. Thus I feel that I've also been internalizing what I heard a while ago: do not be concerned about tomorrow; God is already there.

A Marvelous Day

I had a marvelous day today. This morning, I got up early and read the Bible. Then I headed out from the hotel room in Casablanca where I stayed last night. I caught a petit taxi to the Catholic monastery, where I attended Mass at 9:00 a.m. Mexican nuns live in the monastery. Thus, the nun who read one of the Scripture readings spoke in Spanish. However, the parishioner who read the other of the first two Scripture readings spoke in French. The priest spoke in French, so most of the Mass was in French.

Before the Mass had begun, I had been feeling a bit unsettled. Thus I appreciated the nuns' prayers before Mass. By the time Mass had started, I was feeling calmer, more at peace, and more focused on being in the chapel.

After Mass ended, I took a petit taxi to Cathedral Notre Dame de Lourdes for the 11:00 a.m. Mass there. When I arrived, I saw tourists with cameras exiting the church and getting back onto tour buses. Upon entering the church grounds, I discovered a grotto honoring the Virgin Mary. Once I got a better look at the cathedral, I realized that it was quite tall. Yet only upon entering the cathedral did I learn that this cathedral houses an amazing set of stained-glass windows. On both sides of the cathedral is stained glass, continuously stretching, uninterrupted, from the rear of the cathedral all the way to its front, depicting God, angels and believers. Above these scenes depicted on the stained glass, many long thin shafts of stained glass stretched up to the high ceiling. It was certainly fine and beautiful artwork.

In addition to the magnificent stained glass, I once again enjoyed the song during Mass today. I enjoyed how, in the absence of a choir at the cathedral, before Mass had begun, a young woman was leading all of the congregants in practicing the song of the day. It made the experience of attending Mass seem even more communal than it normally already feels. I get so much support and nourishment out of attending Mass, especially here in Morocco, where I am not in the physical presence of other Christians on a regular basis. I'm grateful for the presence of other Christians, who share my faith and encourage me in it. I have much for which I am thankful, and that certainly includes them.

Summer Camp 2012 Part Two

For the last ten days or so, I worked at a summer camp in northern Morocco. Moroccan kids ended their school year in June, so they've been going to camps to learn English and do extracurricular activities, sometimes in their own towns, and sometimes far from where they live. At this particular summer camp where I was, the vast majority of the kids did not live in the area where the camp was held. The kids who attended this summer camp, who were in their early and intermediate teenage years, traveled from various parts of Morocco to attend this particular Summer Camp. They stayed overnight at the camp for the full duration of the camp, roughly ten days.

At this specific Summer Camp location, we were both north of the town where I live in the Sahara, and we were on the coast, so it wasn't hot at our Summer Camp location. I was glad that I was rarely sweating during this Summer Camp, given how hot it has been in the town where I live in the Sahara. In addition to it not being as hot as it has been where I live in the Sahara, I was also happy whenever we got a cool ocean breeze there at camp.

At this specific Summer Camp, we were working in a city. Taxis run on and near the street on which the camp was located, and grocery stores are within a block.

The Moroccan Ministry of Youth and Sport runs this particular Summer Camp, just like it runs Spring Camp. PCVs (Peace Corps Volunteers) help to conduct activities at Summer Camp, just like at Spring Camp. PCVs serving in various regions of Morocco worked at this particular Summer Camp. As PCVs, we slept at the same facility as the campers. However, we slept in a different building from the campers.

On the day that our Summer Camp started, I was one of the PCVs conducting LPIs (language proficiency interviews) in English of the campers who were arriving at camp that day. I began to interview some campers who, I quickly learned, did not know much English.

Once we had the results of the LPIs, the two PCVs (one first-year PCV and a second-year PCV) who were coordinating our activities as PCVs at the camp, divided up the students into six levels of English classes according to their ability to speak English. About half of us PCVs then taught English for the next six days of camp.

During the time slot for English class on the last full day of the camp, we PCVs held an English Olympiad in which the campers participated. We PCVs ran stations at which we quizzed campers on what had been taught during the English classes.

During all of this Summer Camp, we operated under an altered schedule because all of the days of this camp fell during Ramadan. Many campers and Moroccan staff were fasting, so that they were not eating or drinking between sunrise and sunset. As a result, we started our days at camp during Ramadan at around 12 noon. Breakfast and lunch were not served.

After teaching the students English from 12:30 p.m. to 2:00 p.m., the campers had time to read in the library. We PCVs listened to the campers as they told us about the books they had read.

In addition to teaching English, as PCVs, we were also trying to monitor and direct the campers' behavior by assigning them to five different teams named after foreign countries. We assigned the campers to Teams Australia, Brazil, Brunei, Czech Republic, Djibouti, and Indonesia. Campers lost and won points for their teams based on whether they behaved well or poorly. Campers lost points for their team if they threw trash on the ground, fought with each other, and otherwise disruptively behaved. Campers won points for their teams if they picked up trash, correctly answered questions in class, read a book and summarized it for us, and otherwise constructively behaved. Campers had one such opportunity to earn points in the afternoon, during library time, when they sat and read books in the library and then summarized them for us, sometimes orally, and sometimes in writing; sometimes in Arabic, and sometimes in English.

In the afternoons, after library time, we PCVs met with the campers assigned to their country teams. We educated them a little about the countries after which their teams were named. We also ran arts and crafts projects during this team time in the afternoons. We made masks with the campers one day during team time. On another day, we made pinatas with the campers during team time.

In the late afternoon, Moroccan staff ran activities for the kids. Sometimes they ran sports activities with the kids. On another day, they took the campers swimming. On another day, they took the kids to the nearby beach, which is on the Atlantic coast. I was very impressed with the Moroccan staff at this camp, who worked with great attention to the proper behavior of the campers.

At around 7:30pm, when those fasting broke fast, all of us ate together in the dining room at the facility where we were all staying. This meal, "ftur," in Darija, consisted of harira, which is a Moroccan soup containing chickpeas and lentils and noodles, dates, "helwa shbakiya," which is Darija, or Moroccan Arabic, for a specific Moroccan sweet served during Ramadan, hard-boiled eggs, orange juice, tea, coffee, milk, bread and jam.

After ftur, about half of us PCVs ran clubs for the campers. I ran a creative writing club for some of the campers who speak at a more advanced level of English. While I was calling it a creative writing club, it probably should have been called a critical thinking club, since I was primarily trying to get the campers in this club to analyze and think critically about different scenarios.

Partly I got the kids in this club to imagine, compare and evaluate different explanations for the same event. For example, on the first day on which this club met, I mentioned to these campers the idea of an apple falling and hitting someone on the head. I asked why the apple might have fallen from the tree. Then I suggested a few different explanations. It fell out of the tree because the branch broke since it's old. His sister threw it at him. He threw it in the air and didn't catch it. A bird broke the apple off of the tree. I gave them another theoretical scenario and suggested more potential explanations. Then I gave them a third scenario but told them to think of, and write about, possible explanations for what had happened in the hypothetical situation.

Later during the week I had the kids in this club consider hypothetical situations which led them to consider how they should treat others. We talked about how youths perceive and should treat their peers who are different from them. We also addressed a variety of other questions, including the importance of listening to others.

After club time, we PCVs and the Moroccan staff ran late evening activities for the campers. One night, the kids competed in a trivia competition. On another night, we PCVs ran Halloween-themed activities for the kids, including a haunted house, face painting, and pin-the-nose-on-the-pumpkin. On a couple of other nights, the kids performed in talent shows. Typically the kids danced and sang in the talent shows.

A little after midnight, we ate a meal just before turning in for the night which closely resembles what one eats for lunch here in Morocco, namely a variety of cold vegetables, including cucumber, beets, and carrots, and a stew of either beef or chicken with some bread, with a piece of fruit for dessert. When the kitchen staff served us this midnight meal, they also gave us bags containing yogurt, cookies, and fruit, all of which was for those fasting to eat just before dawn.

I feel that I should state here that I am not fasting during Ramadan because I don't want people to think I'm Muslim. I don't want people to think I'm considering becoming a Muslim. And I don't want to implicitly encourage others to be Muslim; if I were to fast during Ramadan, probably at least some, if not all, people would think that I'm Muslim, and that I want others to be Muslim. I do not want any of these things to happen, for many reasons.

Among these reasons is one which was expressed to the founder of Islam by one of his wives. He claimed to have had a revelation that one could marry two wives, after which he married a second wife; he then claimed to have had a revelation that one could marry a third wife, after which he married a third wife; then he claimed to have had a revelation that one could marry a fourth wife, after which he married a fourth wife. One of his wives thus criticized him for conveniently delivering prophecies by which he benefited.

The founder of Islam also looked at his adopted son's wife; his adopted son then divorced his wife; the founder of Islam then married his adopted son's former wife. I'm extremely disinclined to follow the suggestions of the founder of Islam for these reasons and for many other reasons. Although as a Christian I believe in God, for the reasons above as well as for other reasons, I don't want people to think I'm Muslim, I don't want people to think I'm considering becoming Muslim, and I don't want to implicitly encourage others to become Muslim. For these reasons, I am not fasting during Ramadan.

Enter

Today I returned to the Catholic church here in the city on the coast where I've been working with other PCVs (Peace Corps Volunteers) for the last ten days or so. When I'd been there this past weekend, I'd learned that there was going to be Mass celebrated there today in honor of the Assumption of the Virgin Mary. So I made sure to get up early enough this morning to walk to the church for Mass. Once I had nearly arrived at the church, as I was walking down the block on which the church was located, I heard the choir practicing their song, which came at least partially from the Congo. In retrospect, I considered that it was as if their song was like an invitation into the church, to enter and worship.

After Mass, the congregants gathered in the church building for refreshments, including coffee, soda, croissants and cookies. I joined in for their fellowship and conversation with them. I spoke with some Kenyan, French and Italian folks who were very friendly. I was also happy that I found out the national origin of some of the other parishioners. Some of them came from the Ivory Coast, Guinea-Bissau, Togo, Benin, and Cameroon. I was glad that I got to speak with at least some of them at least a little bit, partly because I'd enjoyed their singing so much, and because I felt that in a way, they invited me in, encouraged me as fellow Christians in my faith in God, and welcomed me into the church.

Accepting Transformation

When the Peace Corps recruiter interviewed me nearly three years ago, he asked me many discerning questions about whether I'd be able to cope with life in a country served by the Peace Corps. Amongst his questions, he asked me how I'd feel about not being able to attend religious services of my faith. I replied that I'd prefer not to be in such a situation, but that I would do it if invited to a post in the Peace Corps where I wouldn't be able to attend services. It's important to me to attend church services as a Christian.

As it turned out, I was invited to serve here in Morocco, where relatively few people are Christian. While some PCVs (Peace Corps Volunteers) live in sites with churches, I live in a town here in Morocco where there's no church. However, I live about an hour from a church, so I've attended Mass there. More often in that city, I've attended Bible study sessions with other expats there.

When I travel, I attend Mass in the various cities I visit. For the past ten days or so, I've been working with other PCVs in a city on the coast here in Morocco. On Sunday morning, a few other PCVs and I attended Mass at the Catholic church here in this city. As usual, the service was in French. I understood a bit more of the service, including the sermon, than I usually do, perhaps because the priest was speaking more slowly. My fellow volunteers and I also appreciated the large mural behind the altar, which seemed to include a representation of Adam and Eve and the serpent, and various parts of creation, including the globe and many animals, especially fishes of the sea. We also got treated to some of the glorious sub-Saharan African song which is often heard in churches here in Morocco. It truly felt like a blessing to attend Mass there, as it always is to attend Mass here in Morocco.

I've pondered that while being unable to attend Mass while serving in the Peace Corps seemed daunting when I was applying to the Peace Corps, there was an opportunity for spiritual growth even in simply being willing to serve without being able to attend Mass. When one accepts the challenge, one transforms oneself. And sometimes perhaps God just wants to see us exhibit that willingness. Maybe once we've shown that we're willing to make the sacrifice, as Abraham showed, then perhaps God has seen enough and doesn't always demand the extreme sacrifice which we had initially anticipated. And if we are called to make that full sacrifice, the sacrifice that we're called to make doesn't end up being that intimidating, because we've transformed our outlook. It's no longer burdensome, but liberating. It's no longer a tiresome chore, nor a heavy task, but a wonderful expression of love, and joyous service. As we realize that we are one with our experience, which defines us, our choices fill out our personality, and complete our Identity.

Keeping Cool In The Sahara

Here in Morocco, people tend to keep their front doors and street-level front windows shuttered most of the time for privacy. Since the Sahara summer heat set in, I can't help but get the impression that a few people have started opening their front doors and front windows, presumably to give a little relief from the heat.

During the summer I always keep my windows open when I'm in town. Since it's always darker in my front room than it is outside, people can never see into my apartment, even at night. There's a floodlight directly over the front door of my apartment, so even at night people can't see into my apartment, since it's still brighter outside than it is inside my apartment.

I'll deal with the dust which blows into the apartment, because it really is much more comfortable in the apartment when the windows are open. Moroccans often throw water onto the dirt in front of their homes, to prevent it from blowing into their homes. That's one way to try to prevent the dust and dirt from coming inside.

In addition to keeping the windows open, I've also been keeping cool by taking slightly cool showers. I'm certainly grateful that I have a shower in my apartment! Given how feebly the water trickles out of it, I don't feel bad about taking as many showers as I take, since I'm not using a lot of water when I shower! And at the meager rate of 2.37 dirhams per cubic meter (about 19 cents per cubic meter), after taxes and fees, my water bill runs around 50 dirhams, or around 6 dollars, for each three-month period. Usually I've split the water bill with whatever neighbor I've had in the apartment building. My most recent neighbor, who had been teaching French at the local primary school, got his transfer approved to a school out west on the coast, and he moved there, so I'm back to living in the building by myself. Even paying the water bill by myself, it's still easily a manageable expense! So I'm certainly thankful to God that I have running water and can take cool showers in this heat!

I Don't Believe In Riches, But You Should See Where I Live

This afternoon I was in the bus station in Ouarzazate. As I was waiting for my bus to arrive, I saw a dog looking up eagerly and expectantly at a fellow who apparently was its owner, because he was holding a leash. I was surprised to see a dog which appeared to be a pet. One doesn't see many pets here in Morocco, and that includes dogs. When someone has a dog here, it always seems to be an expat who has the dog as a pet, and even then, most expats don't have dogs as pets here. Then I was even more surprised to see that the man holding the leash appeared to be a Moroccan. It was the first time I'd seen someone who seemed to be Moroccan with a pet dog.

I was waiting in the main bus station in Ouarzazate, where one catches older buses. These buses tend not to be in as good condition as the buses of the SupraTours and CTM bus companies. We PCVs here in Morocco tend to call these older buses "souq buses," since they'll let you off wherever you want to get out, and since you can therefore take one to the souq, or farmer's market, unlike the CTM and SupraTours buses, which won't stop at the souq for you.

Since I was on a souq bus, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the bus was air-conditioned! I'm inclined to agree with another PCV, who'd theorized that these air-conditioned buses used to be SupraTours buses, perhaps until SupraTours sold them. I also figured that this particular bus had just gotten so old that SupraTours had sold it. When we stopped for a break, as I was getting off the bus to walk around a bit, I looked down at the odometer, and saw that the bus had 995,703 kilometers on it! That means it had over 617,335 miles on it!

I certainly appreciated the air conditioning, given how it's the summer here, and how it's been hot in the town where I live down in the Sahara. I enjoyed pleasant temperatures when the bus was moving, but only partly due to the air conditioning. Combined with how it wasn't very hot through the territory in which the bus was traveling, which was surprising especially considering that it's June, and how we were at a higher elevation, and how the roof vents were open, I often felt cool during the trip north through the High Atlas mountains. At one point, I looked down at my arm, and saw that I had goosebumps!
 
As I rode on the bus, I was listening to music through my headphones. Soon after going over the Tichka Pass in the High Atlas mountains, at the moment I caught a glimpse of the first wide open expansive magnificent priceless view, I found it very appropriate as I heard Bono of the band U2 sing the lyrics, "I don't believe in riches but you should see where I live."

I've certainly been grateful for the gorgeous landscape here in Morocco. During that highest stretch of road through the High Atlas mountains, I was glad to see a waterfall, which was strongly flowing. Later, once we'd descended a considerable elevation, I was enjoying seeing many bushes with pink flowers and densely packed evergreen trees. I've enjoyed much other beautiful scenery during my time here in Morocco. Honestly I haven't missed having as much money as I used to have. I've felt constantly blessed by God with other types of riches which, I feel, are more enduring, more profound, and which nourish me in healthier ways.

Traveling As A PCV In Morocco

I still have a couple of weeks of vacation time left. Given that I'm nearing the end of my Peace Corps service, I've got to use my vacation time now, if I'm going to use it. Therefore, I've been traveling this week. At the beginning of the week, I visited a friend, Bill, who lives north of my town. He showed me around his town. Since he's a PCV (Peace Corps Volunteer) who works in small business development, he was introducing me to women who have been learning how to make shoes, weave rugs and baskets, and make keftans (long Moroccan women's robes) and handkerchiefs. In addition to giving me the tour of his town, he also hosted me in his apartment until the next day. I was grateful for his hospitality and generosity. Since it's been getting hot, I especially appreciated how he served another PCV and me cold watermelon and green cantaloupe.

Later in the week, I was happy to visit a Franciscan monastery. I managed to make it there for a service at 7:15 a.m. It was all in French, so I understood very little of it. I'd previously attended masses in French here in Morocco, but for some reason I seemed to encounter a particular difficulty which I don't recall experiencing on prior occasions. I found singing hymns in French more difficult than I'd expected. Later I considered that when singing in English, I'm not only reading the words, I'm also looking to see if the notes go up or down in the songs. Then I realized that when trying to sing in French, I'm struggling with words I don't know in French as an added element on top of trying to read and seeing whether the notes go up or down. But I was glad to be worshipping God with other Christians, since I don't get to do so with other Christians much here.

After the service, I spoke with the expatriate Franciscan monks and nuns who live in the monastery. They were very warm and friendly. I told them that I've benefited considerably from having a lot of time to read while living here. Consequently I've devoted much time to opening the door for God, to trying to place myself before God, so as to be receptive to what God is saying to me. I often think of Revelation 3:20 as a reminder to approach my relationship with God in this way. I was grateful to these monks and nuns for their implicit support of me and other Christians in our walk of faith and path in trying to emulate Jesus.

A couple of the elderly nuns were especially sweet, continuing to clasp my hand as they spoke with me. As I spoke with one of them, I was finding it difficult to speak in French, since I've been infrequently speaking French. She told me to speak in Darija, which was much easier!

After not too long, I was parting ways with the monks and nuns. As I was saying goodbye to them, one of the elderly nuns called me "Xuya," which is Darija, or Moroccan Arabic, for "my brother," as she next further noted that we're all brothers and sisters.

After I bid adieu to the monks and nuns, I caught a bus so I could continue further north on my journey. I was happy to be able to take a bus with the CTM bus company. CTM buses are nicer, and newer, than most other buses here in Morocco. In addition to also being more reliable than a lot of other buses, they're also air-conditioned, unlike many other buses here in Morocco. As I traveled north, I enjoyed more beautiful scenery, including green meadows giving way to hills covered with evergreen trees. In this area of Morocco, snow covers the ground in winter. But this month, there was no snow on the ground there, unlike when I traveled the same route on my way to PPST (Post-Pre-Service Training) back in February 2011.

This time as I approached Azrou, although I didn't see any snow, in addition to the green meadows, I also saw purple and yellow flowers. At one point, the bus slowed down since sheep were running into the road. Their shepherd, protective of his sheep, got them back off of the road. I saw other flocks of sheep later before arriving in Azrou.

Once I arrived in Azrou, I caught another bus to the town of Ifrane. I'd heard that Ifrane seemed different from the rest of Morocco. The French built Ifrane in the 1930s. Thus it has architecture different from rest of Morocco, namely houses with pointed roofs. However, I must admit that I was disappointed once I arrived in Ifrane, given how people had told me that Ifrane was very different. It didn't seem significantly different from the rest of Morocco. Ifrane is also known for its gardens, some of which are quite pleasant and pretty, with trimmed grass and flower beds with purple, lavender, orange and yellow flowers.

After visiting Ifrane, next I headed to the city of Meknes, where I stayed for the night. In the morning, I headed further north, to the ancient Roman ruins at the site of Volubilis, or Oualili in Arabic. Volubilis is still being excavated, but there's much interesting already to see there. A massive arch, built by local residents out of gratitude for being exempt from taxes, still stands there. The ancient baths remain. I was most impressed by the mosaics. In addition to enjoying the skill of the artists, I marvelled at how well they've endured against the elements for nearly two millenia.

After exploring at Volubilis, I continued north up here to Chefchaouen. I'd been wanting to come to Chefchaouen for a while, and I'm glad I finally did. I'd heard that a planned visit to Chefchaouen of a few days often easily turns into a stay of a week or more, since it has such a mellow, relaxed atmosphere, which I'm now glad to be feeling myself. I've also been appreciating the scenic beauty here. Chefchaouen is nestled at the foot of the Rif mountains. Its medina, that is, the old part of the city, is whitewashed and also covered in various shades of blue. I also tend to especially enjoy a medina when its streets slope more steeply, as they do here.

I'm thankful to be a PCV here in Morocco. There's so much to do and see here, and, more importantly, I'm grateful to be having mutually supportive relationships and interactions with such warm and generous people here, which is, after all, why I came here in the first place.

Is It Really Necessary?

This morning I met up with a fellow PCV (Peace Corps Volunteer), Jim, who happened to be passing through the town where I live down here in the Sahara. I mentioned to him that earlier that morning, I had been recalling how I'd recently been in the Moroccan city of Errachidia. I related how I showed up to catch an early morning bus there and was told that it had departed a half hour before it was scheduled to depart. I explained to him that because it had occurred to me early this morning that that might have happened to him this morning, I'd sent him a text message asking him to appraise me about how his trip was going. He arrived here when he'd planned. Similarly, on that recent morning in Errachidia, I got on a bus leaving a couple of hours later than the one I'd originally been planning on catching.

Considering both of these journeys, that of my friend this morning, and my recent trip out of Errachidia, and how neither of us were all that much delayed, since we both got to our destinations when we wanted to arrive, I pondered that sometimes we can make things into a bigger deal than they really are. We can think that things matter more than they really do.

I got confirmation of this realization in another way today. When I finished washing my bedsheets this morning, I began to wring the water out of the sheets, since the spin compartment of my washing machine recently stopped working.

First, I acknowledge that I am fortunate even to have a washing machine at all. I am conscious of, and often note, how most PCVs around the world don't have a washing machine at their disposal. I thank God for this and the many other blessings in my life.

To further explain, once I had squeezed the water out of my bedsheets, had hung them, and then retrieved the sheets from the clotheslines on my roof this afternoon, I noted that it didn't matter that the spin function no longer works in the washing machine. The sheets dried in just as much time as they would have dried had I still had the spin function to use. I had despaired when it stopped working, partly because of issues I have in gripping things. But it turns out, now that it's gone, that it doesn't really matter that I don't have it to use anymore. It leads once again to the question, which can apply to so many things in our lives, "Is it really necessary?"

I Am Not Fine

While I was at Spring Camp up in northeastern Morocco earlier this month, one of the Moroccan staff members sometimes would ask me in English, "Are you fine?" After I had replied, I would ask him if he was fine. Sometimes he would answer, "I am not fine. Because: I am very, very, very good."

I've been in high spirits since Spring Camp, and especially since returning to the town where I live down here in the Sahara. So when some kids here in town have asked me how I'm doing, I've said to them, "I am not fine, because I am very, very, very well."

I'm in such good spirits because in general, Spring Camp went well. I was glad to be working with such talented kids who are interested in developing themselves. I worked with some fantastic Moroccan staff, who are energetic, attentive and good at what they do. I learned some things about helping people, and about teaching, and even more specifically, about dealing with classroom misbehavior. I saw more of Morocco on my way back south. I definitely enjoyed visiting some friends who are fellow PCVs on my way back down here. I'm glad to be done traveling; I'm glad to be sleeping in my own bed again, to be back in my own apartment. I'm very grateful that when I went to the post office upon arriving back here in town, I was greeted by five care packages and two letters which family and friends had sent to me.

I'm also happy to be at this relatively late stage in my Peace Corps service. I've been enjoying helping and serving people here, and thus trying to do what God wants me to do. In this latter period of my service, I'm enjoying considering what I've been doing. I'm looking forward to doing more.

I've enjoyed the simpler, mellower, slower pace of life here. While I miss my family and friends in the US and elsewhere outside of Morocco, and the culture in the US, and therefore am looking forward to returning to the US, I am certainly enjoying the simplicity and calm of life here. I'm glad that I made the change to move here so I could experience this life. I do think that I'm feeling so great this week because I'm back here in town enjoying the pace of life here.

So at this point, I'm looking both back and looking forward. I'm feeling happy about having come here, about what this life has had to offer, and about doing this work. And since I'm enjoying it right now, I'm looking forward to the rest of my time here.

In addition to feeling as if I made a good choice to come here, I'm also feeling grateful once I ponder how happy I am with that choice. So, I am not fine. Because: I am very, very, very well.