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...  

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.

Spring Camp 2012

For the last couple of weeks, I've been very far north in Morocco working at Spring Camp.  Moroccan kids had two weeks off from school, so some of them attended camps all over Morocco to learn more English and to engage in various extracurricular activities.  Some of them only attended camp for one week; others attended camp for both of the two weeks.  At this particular camp where I was, the youths ranged in age from 10 to 18.  The vast majority of kids who attended this camp came from the city in which this camp was held, or from the immediately surrounding area.

While it was a camp, it was located in a city.  Taxis run regularly on the street where the camp was held.  Grocery stores are within a block of where the camp was held.  So, the camp was held in an urban area.

The camps are run by the Moroccan Ministry of Youth and Sports.  As PCVs (Peace Corps Volunteers) we help to conduct activities at the camps.  In addition to me, there was another PCV, Stephen, working at the camp.  He too is a Youth Development PCV.  He's in his first year of his Peace Corps service.  He lives in the city where our Spring Camp was held. For the duration of the camp, he and I both slept in our own room, in the same building in which the youths were sleeping.

At Spring Camp, the kids wake up between 7am and 8am.  We, the PCVs, the kids and the Moroccan staff, ate breakfast together at the camp a little after 8am.  Typically it's tea and coffee, milk, croissants, some bread, either baguettes and/or the usual round, flat Moroccan bread, perhaps accompanied by butter, apricot jam, and sometimes hard-boiled eggs and Vache Qui Rit (French for "Laughing Cow") cheese.

For an hour or two in the morning, the kids attend English class.  At this camp, since only one other PCV and I were teaching English, there were only two different levels of English classes.  I taught the beginners' class.  In this class, some of these kids knew no English, whereas others knew more English.  As I usually do when I teach an English class with multiple levels of students, I took the approach of teaching the basics while simultaneously throwing in words and phrases closely related to the topic which even the more knowledgeable students would not have been likely to know.  For example, one day I was teaching the students how to tell the time in English.  While I taught them how to say "2:15," I also explained the phrase "a quarter after."

While teaching English during Spring Camp, I encountered the classroom misbehavior of students which I usually face while teaching here in Morocco.  Usually they're just unruly by talking nearly non-stop during class.  During Spring Camp this year, I dealt with their rowdiness partly by splitting them into teams and having them compete against each other to see who best knew English.  I was pleased to see that it often worked well.  On the first day of English class, as we were nearing the end of our almost two-hour-long class, some students were standing up, asking if they could go.  Right after they stood up, asking if they could leave, I figured that the time was ripe to start a game, so the game immediately commenced. About a minute after starting the game to see which team could correctly spell the numbers I was saying, it seemed like they had completely forgotten that they had wanted to leave the classroom.  Each time their team scored a point, the students on that side of the room erupted into cheers.  Moroccan kids love to compete!

However, I also had the kids play games in English class to practice speaking their English, and to get them to be social and get to know each other.  On the days when I was teaching them about greeting each other, and learning others' names and ages, first I taught them the grammar and vocabulary needed to have such conversations.  Then I had them practice such dialogues in English, performed in front of the class.  Then I had them get up and mingle and try to meet as many of their peers as possible.  Then I split them into teams.  During each round of the game, I had a student from each team at the front of the class, asking each one what the other student's name and age were.  I was a little surprised that the kids didn't know more of each others' names, so it seemed that the game helped them not only to practice their English, but that it also helped them to get to know each other.

After English class, the kids played sports and did aerobics and gymnastics for an hour or so.  The other PCV and I sometimes played sports with the kids.  One day I played soccer with the kids, which I enjoyed.  (Moroccans, like much of the rest of the world, understandably call soccer "football."  They say "American football" for what people in the US call "football.")

In the early afternoon, we PCVs, the kids and the Moroccan staff ate lunch together.  For lunch, we often ate salad, followed by a tajine, which is somewhat like a Moroccan stew, as usual, out of one large serving dish.  We tear off pieces of bread and use the pieces of bread to dip into the tajine sauce, and to get vegetables or meat from the communal dish.

After lunch, there was a little over an hour of free time.  Some of the kids used the time to nap.

In the middle of the afternoon, we PCVs ran clubs for the kids.  The other PCV ran a club of team building activities.  I held a club on the culture, weather and topography of the US.  One day I spoke with some of the kids about New York City and New York State.  On another day we talked about California.  I tried to spend our club time with all of us having a conversation, rather than me giving a lecture, about these places in the US.  I asked them what they knew about these places.

When I asked them what they knew about New York, they said the New York Yankees.  One girl who seemed to know more about New York than the other youths mentioned the Empire State Building, Broadway and New York University.  I shared pictures of the Empire State Building, the Chrysler Building and the Statue of Liberty with them.  I also told them how one can eat great pizza in New York City.  I tried to get them to grasp how good the pizza in New York is by analogizing it to tajines in Morocco. I noted that one can eat a great tajine here in Morocco, but one is hard pressed to find an outstanding tajine in the US.  I then explained that similarly, one can eat fantastic pizza in New York City, since there are so many Italian immigrants there, but one can't find pizza that's that exceptional here in Morocco.

On the day we discussed California, when I asked them what they think of when they think of California, they said, "Hollywood."  We talked a little bit about how movies are made there.  I told them that while there are palm trees in California, there are many more palm trees in southern Morocco.  We also talked a little about San Francisco.  I showed them a photo of the Golden Gate Bridge.  On the map I'd drawn on the dry erase board, below the US, I drew Mexico, and asked them to identify that country. One of them answered that it's Mexico. I explained that many Mexicans go to the US, including California, to work, especially to harvest fruits and vegetables grown in California. During club time each day, after our discussion, they made posters, on the one day depicting New York, and on the other day representing California.  I taped up their posters in the dining room, to reinforce their artistic tendencies, to try to instill a sense of their artistic skill in them, to remind them of what they'd learned about these places and the culture there and the people who live there, and to implicitly encourage their interest in cross-cultural exchange.

In the late afternoon, the kids also participated in activities run by some of the Moroccan staff running the camp.  Typically the Moroccan staff ran activities involving art, song and dance for the kids.

On another day, a gentleman came to the camp and gave a presentation on the spread of HIV in Morocco. Given how touchy a topic HIV is here, I suspect that he provided some very helpful education to the youths that day.

After these late afternoon and early evening activities, we, the PCVs, the kids and the Moroccan staff, ate dinner together.  For dinner, first we always ate harira, which is a type of Moroccan soup which contains chickpeas, and sometimes also lentils, among other things.  Sometimes after the harira, we ate spaghetti and meatballs.  On some nights after dinner, we ate yogurt for dessert.  On other nights, we ate fruit, such as bananas, for dessert.

One night after dinner, the other PCV and I held a trivia contest for the kids.  We had written questions in the categories of US culture and Moroccan culture.

For example, we asked them, "Which country gave the Statue of Liberty to the US as a gift?"  One of the teams knew that France had given it to the US.  We also asked them which US President had founded the Peace Corps.  One team correctly answered that President John F. Kennedy had founded the Peace Corps.

In the category of Moroccan culture, we asked one team which mountain was the tallest in Morocco. They correctly answered that it's Jbel Toubkal. That team also knew that Volubilis is the site of ancient Roman ruins which once served as Roman baths.

On another night, as on many of the nights of Spring Camp, some of the youths performed in talent shows.  Usually they sang or danced.  Sometimes they acted in skits, which they performed in Darija.  On one night, one Moroccan teenager performed live rap in Darija.  That same night, the Moroccan staff insisted that I sing into the microphone, so I sang "And I Love Her" by The Beatles, editing out lyrics which I thought might be culturally inappropriate, given the relatively conservative relations between the genders here in Morocco.

During each of the weeks of Spring Camp, we went on field trips to beautiful spots in the local area, where we took short hikes.  In the first week of camp, we visited a forest.  In the second week, we took a trip to a river.

To get to the forest, there were so many of us that we took both a bus and a mini-bus to get there.  I was riding in the mini-bus with some of the Moroccan staff and some of the campers.  As we headed out on our way down the street, away from the complex where the camp was being held, and toward the forest, a petit taxi began to pull out in front of us just as we were about to pass him.  The man driving our mini-bus exclaimed, "Hmar!"  Strictly speaking, that word means "donkey."  In this particular context, however, he was calling the other driver an idiot.  I don't hear people using that epithet that often here in Morocco.  Parents use it in addressing their kids when they're behaving especially poorly, but, it seems, usually in private.  In any case, each of the vehicles was moving quite slowly, probably more slowly than 10 miles per hour, so they didn't touch.  After our driver was done berating the other driver, we were continuing on our way to the forest.

We went on a pleasant walk in the forest despite the rain which steadily increased during our excursion.  Since that locale is home to some beautiful landscape, and thus is a tourist destination, we crossed paths with some cars and camper vehicles with license plates from European countries.  Most of the time here in Morocco, when I see a vehicle from Europe, it's from France.  I often see vehicles with an "E" for "Espana," or "Spain," or a "D" for "Deutschland," or "Germany." From time to time I also see vehicles from Belgium and the Netherlands.

As we were looping back on our hike toward the vehicles which had brought us to the forest, the rain was falling down upon us and made an unexpectedly pleasant melody.  One of the boys enrolled in the camp was carrying a drum, and he stopped playing it so we could listen to the song which the raindrops made by pattering on top of the drum.  Amidst language difficulties here in Morocco, I often muse that certain kinds of communication are universal.  I believe that nature, through its beauty, serenity and subtlety, is one of them. I also believe that music is another one of them.

I think that humor is another.  Of course one slowly learns about what one can acceptably joke in certain cultures, as well as what natives of that culture are likely to find amusing.  When we had finished our hike, we ate our lunch comprised of the food which the camp cooks had prepared early enough for us to take with us when we left the camp facilities that morning.  As I was eating lunch, a tajine of chicken and potatoes, with some of the girl campers, I noticed that one of them had some potato in the several strands of hair which had escaped from underneath her headscarf.  I pointed this out to her. She started laughing, and it took her a while to recover from the case of the giggles which she developed.  In the end, her friend helped her to remove the little bit of potato from her hair.  And she tucked the few strands of hair back under her headscarf.

At the end of camp, the kids shed many tears. I too was sad to part ways with them and the wonderful Moroccan staff with whom we worked at camp this year. Once again this year at camp, I'd enjoyed working with some remarkably talented youths. One girl who was at camp sings incredibly well. Amidst the tearful goodbyes between campers at the conclusion of the first session of Spring Camp, I said in Darija to this Moroccan teenager who had been belting out stunningly beautiful melodies during camp, "One day I'm going to see you on 'Arabs Got Talent,' and then I'm going to say, 'I met her when she was only 14 years old!'"

Yet I felt even more encouraged by their humility and by their desire and inclination to serve each other. After we ate our meals, some youths cleaned up the tables, not just removing the used silverware, glassware and dishes, but additionally wiping the tables free of crumbs and other food. I was glad to see that they did not see this work as being below them, or as unworthy of them, or as an imprudent use of their time. I tried to clear tables after our meals, and was directed multiple times not to do so. There's a tendency in Morocco to see certain work as being inappropriate for particular people to do since it doesn't match up with those persons' social standing. However, I prefer to see actions in our lives as opportunities to serve each other. When we have chances to serve each other, we have opportunities to give to each other, and thus to love each other. I was pleased that these youths are humble enough that they value service and what it represents. Approaching life with such a generous and nourishing spirit, they're going to not just help others, but in the process simultaneously grow as individuals in some of the most profound ways possible.

Likely To Succeed

Last week, when I was in Fes, I met some of the new PCTs (Peace Corps Trainees) who arrived here in Morocco last month. They're in the thick of their PST (Pre-Service Training), living with Moroccan host families, learning Darija (Moroccan Arabic), and learning about the culture and customs of Morocco.

While I was speaking with them, I was glad to hear that they are prone to employ coping strategies which will serve them well in the long run. One trainee was happily showing her fellow trainees and me a greeting card which a friend had sent her in the postal mail. She was gushing about how she loves sending and receiving correspondence in the postal mail. I too greatly enjoy using the postal mail, including sending and receiving postcards, letters and care packages.

As I've mentioned in a previous blog entry ("Tips For PCVs and PCTs" in August 2011), I certainly recommend using the postal mail. I encourage people to use the postal mail for multiple reasons.

One can find it therapeutic to put pen to paper. When you write, you're communicating how you're feeling. Often when you express your feelings, you'll feel better.

Also, by using the postal mail, years from now you'll have mementoes of your Peace Corps service. Like a diary or a journal, written correspondence can help you preserve your memories for posterity. Electronic communications tend to be more transitory, and either have no record, as with chat histories, or can be deleted with merely the click of a mouse. It's harder to lose a handwritten letter or other written correspondence.

And in the short term, you and others will probably enjoy your correspondence more if it's written. People stick postcards they receive on their fridges. You can tack a letter up on your wall, so you can see it everyday, thus bringing warmth and comfort to your living space.

In utilizing the postal mail, you can also make your communications more special and personalized. You can include things in an envelope which you can't send in an e-mail message, like magazine articles and newspaper articles which you can't find online. You can also make handwritten letters more personalized by using more distinctive envelopes, stationery and postage stamps.

While we were talking about using the postal mail, I shared with them my appreciation of stamps. While living here in Morocco, I've retained my philatelic tendencies which I developed in the states. I enjoy looking for various postage stamps to use when I send postcards and letters to family and friends. I not only want to make what I'm sending more interesting for certain people who are inclined to enjoy such reflections of the culture of Morocco, but I'm also continuing to pursue my hobby of collecting and using a variety of stamps. I do recommend keeping your hobbies, especially those of you who are PCVs (Peace Corps Volunteers). Surely you've been expecting to make adjustments, and have been making adjustments to life in your host country. Sometimes in making adjustments, you might not be able to do everything you'd like to do in your free time while living in your host country. Sometimes you can continue some of your hobbies. If you can, then definitely do so. It's one way to maintain your emotional resilience amidst the emotional and spiritual challenges you face while in the Peace Corps. While you might think that I'm sharing obvious advice here, some PCVs develop tunnel vision. They focus on what they don't have, or don't like, rather than on what they do have, or they can do, under the circumstances. Do what you can, and what nourishes you and others.

I was also glad that the trainees asked for advice about how to deal with rowdy kids in the classroom. As Youth Development PCVs here in Morocco, we spend a lot of our time teaching and tutoring youths in English in dar shebabs (Darija for "youth centers"). And oftentimes the students are indeed disruptive in the classroom, mostly by talking out of turn--and not just occasionally, or frequently, but rather nearly non-stop--during the lessons. I shared with the trainees that sometimes I use humor as a means of refocusing students' attention on the lesson before them. I was glad not only that the trainees asked for ideas on how to handle classroom misbehavior, but I also was happy to share my experience with them, and I was further pleased that they seemed receptive to my suggestions.

After speaking with the PCTs, I reflected that they are prudent to use such healthy coping strategies and that they're humble and open-minded to ask for guidance. Having such qualities and taking such approaches, they're much more likely to succeed, especially in giving the love to others which they came here to give.

The Best Way To Deal With Misbehavior In The Classroom Is Through The Heart

Often when I'm teaching English at the dar chebab (Darija, or Moroccan Arabic, for "youth center") here in town, kids are unruly. Usually they divert other students' attention by talking to them in class. However, sometimes they engage in other, more disruptive classroom misbehavior.

I've gone so far as to kick talkative or otherwise distracting kids out of the classroom. While I prefer not to resort to such extreme measures, after expelling multiple misbehaving students out of the classroom, I have found that the remaining students, who are more serious about learning, are more able to focus on the lesson. Consequently, we have more efficient and productive lessons.

However, at times I've also called upon the moudir (Darija for "director") of the dar chebab to help me with especially disruptive kids. For example, on one recent night, I was teaching an English class. Given that it has started getting warmer, the moudir had left the windows of this particular classroom open before I started teaching this class. Thus, the students in the classroom and I quite clearly heard the ear-piercing whistle which a child made right outside the window. I purposely kept teaching for a few more moments to avoid acknowledging, and thus to avoid drawing attention to, his misbehavior, which, I suspected, was exactly what he wanted. However, after a few moments, I left the classroom and spoke with the moudir about the loud whistle. He went outside the dar chebab and took the boys outside the window by surprise. Later that night he told me that he had decided that they would be banned from the dar chebab.

He's also mentioned to me the idea of bringing rebellious kids to the gendarmes, who are the law enforcement officers here in town. Generally, although I imagine that doing so would tend to be highly effective in reining in kids' unruly behavior, it seems to me that doing so might be an extreme measure. However, at least some of the time, I would definitely encourage such a course of action. With the very loud, screeching whistle, one is starting to consider noise complaints, which, at least in the US, law enforcement officers handle. However, I also recognize that Moroccans might call upon law enforcement here in Morocco for additional and different reasons other than those which lead people to utilize law enforcement agencies in the US. Furthermore, I completely respect the moudir's authority and his decisions to ban certain youths from the dar chebab and/or to bring them to the gendarmerie.

In managing misbehavior while I'm teaching and/or tutoring kids in English, I've also been reminded of certain cultural phenomena here in Morocco. Youths, as well as adults, sometimes expect me to become violent when I attempt to deal with disruptive kids. In addressing classroom misbehavior, I also try to get kids to respect each other.

A specific example comes to mind. Last week, I was tutoring a student in English. He told me that he was going to give a presentation in school about how youths drop out of school. He's one of the most devoted students who comes to the dar chebab for help in learning English. He often asks me questions about English. He's also relatively quiet, gentle, modest and soft-spoken. As I was helping him with words and phrases in English related to his presentation topic, he was making a good number of mistakes, sometimes by misspelling words, and sometimes by using the wrong verb tense. Other kids were in the room, and a couple of them were watching and listening as I was tutoring this student. One of the ones who was watching was laughing as my tutee was incorrectly composing sentences. I became angry and told him and another youth who also was distracting us to leave the room. I was especially incensed in this case because not only were they making it more difficult for my tutee to concentrate, and thus to learn, but the one kid was implicitly mocking his attempts to learn. I was especially agitated because potentially, given his seemingly sensitive nature, my tutee seems particularly susceptible to the destructive effects which such mockery can have on one's psyche.

I thus followed the two youths out of the dar chebab, in an attempt to explain to them why they must not laugh at students who are trying to learn. However, when they saw me coming, they ran away. I believe that they assumed that I would hurt them, or at least grab them, if I got close enough to them to do so. I returned to the classroom and finished tutoring my student. The two students who had sped away had returned and were lingering just outside the front doors of the dar chebab. I again tried to speak with the disrespectful students, and again they fled; this pattern recurred a few times. Each time I looked outside to see if they were still there so I could talk with them, they became scarce.

Finally at one point, I was standing outside of the dar chebab when I saw the youth who had been laughing at my tutee. From afar, I strongly stated to him in Darija that he must not laugh at another student who is trying to learn. In English, he said, "I am sorry." I responded in Darija that he had to say that to the student at whom he had been laughing.

Having addressed his disrespectful behavior, I re-entered the dar chebab, where the moudir, as well as the moudir of another dar chebab in a nearby village were conversing. I began speaking with them about this situation which had just occurred while I had been tutoring. I explained to them that the reason I had been so irritated was because if a kid laughs at another kid when he's trying to learn, that youth who's trying to learn might later have psychological problems. The moudir of the dar chebab here in town indicated that he understood.

A short time later, he told me that the moudir of the dar chebab from the nearby town would walk with me to my apartment. I headed out from the dar chebab with him. After walking with him for about a minute, I began to wonder why he was walking me home. It occurred to me that perhaps it was because I had berated the one youth in public. Moroccans tend to observe the rule of praising others in public, and reprimanding them in private. However, I'd kept trying to take the two disruptive youths aside to privately counsel them, but hadn't been able to do so. Given the potentially damaging effects of his mockery, I felt it might have been urgent immediately to address his misbehavior. Further, during some periods, I have not seen this particular youth, the one who had been laughing at my tutee, for months on end. Still further, I'd seen the moudir of the dar chebab here in town chide students while others were watching and/or within earshot. Nevertheless, as I was walking home with the moudir of the dar chebab of the nearby town, I asked him if I should not have chastised the student in public, and if I should have waited until I was able to privately speak with him. He responded that there hadn't been a problem with how I had handled the situation.

As we continued walking, once we were much closer to my apartment, it occurred to me that maybe he wanted to come into my apartment, perhaps to counsel me in private about this situation. Accordingly, when we reached the front door of the apartment building in which I live, I asked him if he wanted to come inside. He declined, which not only seemed to be a genuine reply given the look on his face and his general demeanor, but also seemed to make sense since he hasn't been feeling that well.

Once I had gotten inside my apartment, I finally realized why he had walked me home. He had done so because Moroccan men and boys often make sure that other men or boys in a physical altercation actually part ways, and often accompany them on their way to make sure that they're not going to go back to find the other--or each other--to restart the dispute or fight. However, I'd had no intention of harming, grabbing or even touching either of these youths. During physical confrontations, Moroccan men and boys exchange harsh words and threats, shove each other, and, at times, put their hands to the throat of the other male, as if they are about to strangle him. They rarely use weapons while fighting, and nearly no private Moroccan citizens own guns. Given how Moroccan men and boys sometimes interact with each other, certainly I understand why Moroccans tend to expect me to become violent with youths who are disruptive while I'm trying to teach and/or tutor.

However, I don't become violent. I have hoped that the next day I communicated that I follow this behavioral aspiration. I was at the dar chebab when both of the youths who I had ejected from the classroom the previous day walked right up to me. I calmly said to them in Darija, "Look: you have to respect other kids. It's very important to respect them when they're trying to learn. That's all." I was glad to see that they seemed to be serious and attentive to the message I was trying to communicate to them. It occurred to me that they might have become so meek because they were concerned that the moudir was going to ban them from the dar chebab, and/or take other punitive measures against them. I figured that I was probably correct in my suspicion when the student who had laughed at my tutee seemed concerned a little while later as he asked the moudir whether he could attend Spring Camp. However, I hope that these two students are not just changing their behavior out of self-interest. I hope and pray that they truly are repentant, and that they have reached such a psychological and spiritual place out of compassion for their fellow student. I know that if they feel and believe so, they will have benefited infinitely more than from having gained any knowledge of, or skill in, English.

Giving Credit Where Credit Is Due

Yesterday I went to the store of a man here in town where I frequently buy food. When he saw me, he got up, asking me if I wanted to buy food. I told him that I didn't come there to buy food.

Instead I went to his shop to thank him for his son's good behavior in the English classes I teach at the dar chebab (Darija, or Moroccan Arabic, for "youth center"), where I do most of my volunteering as a Youth Development PCV (Peace Corps Volunteer) here in Morocco. While teaching at the dar chebab, so often--indeed, far more often than not--I'm faced with a classroom of mostly unruly children. Thus, I especially appreciate when students behave well rather than encourage classroom misbehavior. Not only are they making my job easier, but also, and far more importantly, they're helping to foster a productive learning environment, by not distracting others through disruptive behavior.

I said to him, "Sir, thank you. In the classroom, your son is serious. He is quiet. When he has something to say, he raises his hand. He respects other people."

I believe that it was out of modesty that the shopkeeper denied that his son behaves particularly well. He claimed that at home, his son doesn't act the way I had described. However, I find it hard to believe that someone's behavior would be so different at home than at school.

Instead, I think it not only far more likely that his son is generally respectful and well-behaved, but also that he behaves so well because his father, this shopkeeper, has been raising him well. And that's why I went to his shop, to thank him, to let him know that I have noticed his son's outstanding behavior and that I appreciate it.

Classroom Management Strategies

Now that the Moroccan academic year is in full swing, kids are coming to the dar chebab (Darija, or Moroccan Arabic, for "youth center") often, and in large groups, for a variety of classes, including French, math, philosophy and computer science. They also come to the dar chebab to attend English classes, some of which I teach. Being kids, they tend to be fairly restless in class. For the most part, disruptive kids mostly just talk during class.

I alternately employ a variety of strategies to try to keep them in line and to manage classroom misbehavior. They work to varying degrees.

I think I best like letting the kids police each other. I have them do this in various ways.

One, I ask the kids who I know to be studious and attentive to help me keep the other students to be quiet. Then, during class, those kids I have enlisted to help me tell the talkative ones to be quiet.

Two, and perhaps even better than the first way of getting students to police each other, when students start to talk too much, I simply stop talking. I just stand in front of the class until the talking subsides, a result helped along by the more studious children, who want the lesson to continue, and thus get the more talkative ones to be more quiet.

Sometimes if a student is talking quite obliviously to how I have noticed that he or she is talking, I demonstrate a teaching point with that student. I draw attention to the student. For example, during a recent class I was teaching the students some verbs. I had gotten to the verb "to throw." A student in the front row was talking and seemed completely unaware that I was looking right at her as she was talking. So I demonstrated the verb "to throw" as I tossed my magic marker at her. When it landed on her, she seemed embarrassed at being caught in the act of talking during class.

Sometimes I just loudly tap the end of my magic marker on the table in front of me, especially if the students at that table are talking. If they're unaware that I've noticed that they're talking, they're usually startled by the tap and thus immediately stop talking.

And sometimes I resort to an even more common approach. Sometimes I just utter a quick "Shh!"

Efficiency With A Snap of the Fingers

On my way back from my mid-service medical exam in Rabat this week, I visited my friend and fellow PCV, Jack, who lives and works relatively close to Marrakech. I arrived in his town when he was still at his dar chebab (Darija, or Moroccan Arabic, for "youth center"), where we, as Youth Development PCVs here in Morocco, generally do most of our volunteering.

He was finishing up teaching an English class when I arrived. I stuck around not only for the rest of that class, but for all of the next two classes he was teaching.

I got a good tip from him on dealing with classroom misbehavior. At one point, some of the students in his class were talking amongst themselves. He responded to their chatter, by keeping his cool, but also by snapping his finger. Immediately his students fell silent. I thought, "Now, that's one that I've got to remember!"