Reflecting On Nearly Two Years Of Peace Corps Service

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

What Are You Going To Bring Home?

This past weekend, I was up in the city that's about an hour north of the town where I live down here in the Sahara. In the morning, I was at Bible study with some friends who are also expats living here in Morocco. As our Bible study was starting, I sat down on a ponj, which is like a long sofa without a back. It appeared to me as if I had taken the last place in the room. A moment later, one of the young children entered the room and was looking for somewhere to sit. My friend, who was sitting next to me on the right, and I seemed to have the same idea at the same time. She called to the child as I scooted over to make some room for the youngster. A little while later, another of the kids entered and sat in the small space between me and my other friend who was on my left.

I was immediately reminded of how I've had to adjust my conceptions of space while I've been living here in Morocco, in different ways, at various times. We pile into grand taxis here, cramming them more full, with more people, than many US residents would expect to be in such a vehicle. I've considered that I should not be hostile to sharing space, for many reasons. For one thing, I made a conscious, voluntary decision to come here. Therefore, I decided to submit myself to the customs here, including those which demand that I handle space differently than I typically did in the USA. Insofar as I invited such external changes in how I conduct myself, implicitly I further chose to explore what internal transformations might occur. How am I going to allow these experiences here affect me? How am I going to change as a result of living here? Surely change is a necessary by-product of being here, including by aspects of life here which I've found uncomfortable and which I haven't liked. Otherwise I run the risk of merely complaining about what I haven't liked here, of not learning anything about myself and others. And if I go down that road, then I'm traveling down the road toward being the arrogant and closed-minded American who comes here, criticizes the people and the culture here, and leaves, not having gained anything, and consequently, likely not having given anything, of lasting value. So at this relatively late stage in my Peace Corps service, I've been thinking about what I can take back to the USA with me, not just in terms of physical, material goods, but also, and far more importantly, in terms of what can help me conduct myself better, what can help me be a better human being, and treat others better.

Time Speeds Up

Months ago, I noted to my friend and then fellow Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV) Ben, that it seemed like time was passing more quickly than when I had first arrived in Morocco. He responded, "Yeah... time speeds up."

Yesterday I was reminded of this phenomenon. I was sitting at a cafe here in town with some friends who are also expats, but who aren't PCVs. One of them asked me if there are any other PCVs living here in this town. I told him that there aren't any other PCVs here. I explained that there used to be another PCV living here during my service, but that he decided to put an early end to his service. Then I added that about 120 new PCTs (Peace Corps Trainees) will arrive here in Morocco in March. I said I figured that there's a good chance that another PCV from that stage, or group, will be assigned to start living here in late May or early June.

Then I noted to him that at this time last year, I was finding life here so much more challenging, and thus time seemed to be passing so much more slowly then. I thought of the blog post I had written in late January last year, and of how distraught I was then. I remembered how, at times, I would cope by asking myself if I could make it until the end of the day: of course the answer was always "yes." And then I said to my friend, "And now, I think about when the new PCTs are going to arrive in March, and I think, 'Wow, that's just right around the corner!'"

Thanksgiving in Morocco, Part One

Today here in my province, other PCVs and I got together to have an early Thanksgiving celebration. Given various other activities and commitments we all had coming up, we decided to celebrate Thanksgiving together the weekend before Thanksgiving. Most of us at our celebration were PCVs about halfway through our service as PCVs.

I was grateful that a few of the PCVs decided to cook dinner for all of us. Our host just asked us to contribute 50 dirhams each to help defray the cost of the ingredients which were used in cooking our delicious meal. Speaking of which, here is the menu of the delicious food we ate:

First Course (Appetizers):

pumpkin-apple soup
mixed salad with garlic herb vinaigrette

Second Course (Entrée):

turkey with bacon on top
squash cornbread stuffing
whole wheat lentil stuffing
sweet potato casserole
green beans seasoned with garlic and butter
twice baked potato casserole with bacon bits
cranberry sauce
freshly baked hard rolls

Third Course (Dessert!):

apple pie
pumpkin pie
banana bread
caramel apple cake

I didn't even think that I was eating that much, and after we had finished eating, my host (who knows that I love to eat) asked me if I had had enough. I thought about it for a moment, and replied that I was only slightly stuffed. I added that I was able to eat more, but then I would have been really stuffed. In retrospect, I suppose that it makes sense that even though I didn't think that I was eating that much, I still wound up being slightly stuffed. I was only eating the equivalent of one full plate, followed by a sampling of three of the four desserts (I didn't realize that there was any banana bread, or I would've tried that, too). But I rarely eat that much at once here in Morocco. So even though it was less than I usually ate on Thanksgiving Day in the US in past years, it was a greater quantity of food than I usually eat during any particular meal here in Morocco.

There was plenty of food! I certainly appreciated the delicious cooking. I thanked my friends for it. When I said grace before we chowed down in earnest, I thanked God for the delicious food. I also thanked God for the wonderful people who had prepared all of the food, and for the other wonderful people there with us. Immediately before our Thanksgiving celebration, I'd had a stretch of a few weeks where I didn't see any other PCVs (or any other expats at all), so it was nice to get to see them all.

That night, we settled down in beds and sleeping bags for our slumber. I was spending the night in a room that was maybe slightly smaller than 9 feet by 9 feet with 5 other PCVs. At one point, another PCV and I were reading as others were already dozing off. A few minutes after she finished reading and rolled over, I turned off the light and settled down for the night. By the dim light of a streetlamp filtering in through the small window high above us, I discerned the rough shapes of my fellow volunteers under landscapes of sleeping bags, sheets and blankets, as they unconsciously comforted me by reminding me of their presence through their sonorous respiration like bullfrogs croaking in a moonlit marsh, a pleasant chorus of reassurance which gradually lulled me to sleep.

PCV Doldrums Remedies

On one recent night in my apartment, I looked yet again at a box of macaroni and cheese which my brother and sister-in-law had sent to me more than a few months ago. I thought, "I should make that soon." I next thought, "Why not right now?" There's no time like the present. So I went ahead and made the mac and cheese. Then I ate it out of the pot while lying in bed in my pajamas, listening to Blondie songs. One remedy for the doldrums as a PCV is to do something nice for yourself.

I also have more to share on coming up out of the depths of despair, but on a deeper, spiritual level. I recently felt myself slipping into despair amidst this current slow work period and isolation from other expatriates, including other PCVs. I decided to take it to God. I prayed, "God, please take this pain away." Instantaneously I felt tremendously better: instantly I felt better than neutral; I felt wonderful. And then I thought, "I should blog about how God took my pain away."

And once I decided to blog about the restorative power of God's grace, I recalled some helpful words which I recently had heard about praying, and other helpful things to remember when one is experiencing trials which lead one to pray. And I realized that I had been previously receiving some of this guidance from various sources, and been trying to follow it, for a while now, which, I believe, is why my prayers were as effective as they were.

First, I have been getting reminded in various ways that trials, stressful events, occurrences which cause us grief, happen as a part of life! They happen in some form or another to everyone, whether they be deaths of loved ones, grave illnesses, job loss, becoming homeless, being sent to prison, being victimized, or misfortune befalling us in other forms.

However, when trouble strikes:

As I was recently reminded, I have seen that it has helped me to have previously established a relationship and a connection with God when I then seek God's help. I try to be in regular contact with God. I try to communicate with God frequently. Which means communicating with God about good things which happen. Giving thanks for benefits large and small. Giving thanks for positive events which happen once, and thus specially, and blessings which God gives to me everyday, and thus specially, because they are generous, sustaining, vital gifts from God in my life.

And then, when trouble strikes, as I have been advised, I turn to God. I seek God. I've been reminded by others that I need to declare to God that I trust God for the solution. That is, I must also acknowledge that to solve the problem at hand, I'm not relying on my own strength, but on God's strength. I have to admit to God that I'm not strong enough to handle the problem on my own. I have to tell God that I know that I don't have the resources to overcome the obstacles I face. That I know that unless God grants me the wisdom and grace to respond effectively to the challenges I face, I won't have those necessary qualities when I need them during crises.

I've also been reminded to try to keep my eyes and ears open for the messages which God sends to me. I read the Bible every day. I believe that it's true, how it says in Revelation 3:20, that Jesus stands at the door and knocks, and if I let Him in, He'll show me the way through my troubles. If I remain receptive to what He has been trying to tell me, then I will continue to see that He has been trying to show me the way.

And after seeking this help, those who support me have reminded me that I must then praise God. I thank God. God is in control of the situation, and in control of my life. I try to turn it over to God.

And, I must say, I'm invariably pleased with the results. While the obstacles are challenging, I also realize that they present opportunities to grow. And so I try to welcome the challenges, when they come.

Wormhole to the U.S.

A couple of weekends ago, I went to the city that's about an hour away from my town. I was very happy to attend a Bible study session with the Christians who I had met there earlier this year.

Later in the day after the Bible study session, I stayed overnight at one of their houses. While the Christians in this group, which meets for Bible study, are expats from various countries, the particular family, with whom I stayed overnight, is originally from the U.S. Consequently, when I was in their house with them, they were speaking nothing but English, except when they were on the phone with Moroccans, when they then spoke Darija, that is, Moroccan Arabic.

Also, they've been living here in Morocco so long that this is their home. They've adjusted quite well; they're comfortable. One of them commented to me that it takes months to adjust to life here in Morocco. I agree, and I can say from experience that it takes a while for Peace Corps Volunteers (PCVs) to adjust to life in their particular host countries.

During much of the time I spend with other PCVs, we end up talking about challenges of serving here in Morocco. However, these expats from the U.S. are so adjusted, that I felt like they were hosting me in a home of theirs in the U.S. Thus the conversation felt much like conversation I'd have in a home physically located in the U.S.

On a more mundane level, I also enjoyed listening to the music they were playing in their home. We listened to The Beatles and Michael Jackson.

When I arrived at their home, it appeared as if they had just finished eating breakfast. One of them told me to help myself to some pancakes... with maple syrup! As if that wasn't enough, once I had started eating some pancakes, he told me to have as many of them as I wanted, since otherwise they were probably just going to go to waste. I was thrilled, since I hadn't eaten pancakes with maple syrup in months!

Another way in which I felt that I had been transported to the U.S.: I used their toilet. Which meant, given that it has a toilet seat, that I sat down to use it! Being accustomed to using a squat toilet here in Morocco, it felt like I was in another country when I sat down to use a toilet!

For various reasons I felt like I was in the U.S. Sure, I felt like I was in the U.S. because I was seeing, touching, hearing and tasting things I don't often experience here in Morocco. But I think I also felt as if I was in the U.S. because my hosts that weekend were, and are, just so hospitable, generous, warm and caring. Why, you might ask, is that any different than when some Moroccans show me hospitality in their home? I was able to just relax and decompress. I wasn't serving as an ambassador of the U.S. like I usually am when I walk around in public here in Morocco, or even when I'm in the home of some Moroccans.

But, truth be told, there is more to it than that. I was so immensely comfortable because I knew I was with other Christians. I don't always have to be spending time with other Christians. Yet at a certain point after not having spent time with other Christians, I start to feel isolated if I'm not meeting in spiritual community with other Christians. In a certain way, I don't feel supported in my faith by others, because I'm not spending time with others who share my faith. While there are various ways of building and maintaining spiritual community, I believe that one gains it in a most helpful and supportive way by actually spending time with others.

When I was applying to join the Peace Corps, I had resigned myself to the reality that I would probably not be able to go to church regularly, and to the probability that I would not be living near other Christians. But God saw fit to have it otherwise. God takes care of me.

Balancing Community Interaction With Rest and Solitude

At the beginning of this week, I was in a city here in southern Morocco for a regional meeting with other Peace Corps Volunteers (PCVs) and Peace Corps staff. We were discussing upcoming work projects on which we might collaborate over the next several months. I was glad that we had that regional meeting, since during the summer, I have had less work. I left the meeting looking forward to more work on the horizon.

I actually arrived in the city the day before the meeting started. On the day I arrived in the city, I was happy to go to a Bible study session with the group of expatriate Christians I had met there in that same city during Easter weekend.

Since Easter, at times I tried to return there for Bible study with that same group, but they weren't meeting when I was able to go there. On other occasions when I would've gone there for Bible study with them, I've had work commitments, and travel, including to the U.S., which have prevented me from returning for Bible study. Also, the Peace Corps expects us PCVs to spend the majority of our time in our sites, in our towns where we live. Consequently, from time to time, I had also felt that I should refrain from returning out of a need to spend enough time here in my town.

Thus while it's important to find support through community, it's also important to strike a balance while doing so. As I mentioned in my post last month entitled "Tips for PCVs and PCTs," it's important to find an appropriate balance between spending time with host country nationals, spending time with other citizens of the U.S., who are usually PCVs, and spending time alone.

We feed different parts of ourselves depending on whose company we happen to be sharing. As PCVs, it's important for us to spend enough time with host country nationals in our towns, since we are here largely to engage in cultural exchange. And we can, and hopefully do, find a sense of community in our own villages and towns. Of course, we feel a different sense of community when we spend time with other citizens of the U.S., who are usually PCVs. And each of us has our own particular need for time alone, in which we can recharge and reflect. The key is finding a balance between spending time with host country nationals, other PCVs and time alone. Having found a healthy and appropriate balance, one is far more likely to be successful as a PCV.

Joyous Song of Expats Living in Morocco

I was happy to attend Mass today here in Rabat. It was almost all in French. A moment after I stepped into the church, I was glad I was there, just being in a silent church.

I arrived very early, perhaps an hour before Mass was scheduled to begin. A little after I had arrived, people started gathering in the front pews and started singing. I really enjoyed listening to them sing.

During the service, they sang a couple of songs in a language I didn't understand when I heard it and also when I tried to read it on the bulletin for today's Mass. After Mass had ended, I approached one of the young black women who had been animatedly and happily singing in this other language. I asked her in which language these songs were written and sung. She told me that they were in one of the languages of South Africa. It turns out that there is a South African expatriate community in Rabat.

So, I enjoyed visiting a church today, and enjoyed attending Mass today. I also enjoyed listening to joyous, buoyant South African song today, for which I was most grateful.