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.

You Must Be The Change You Want To See In The World

Last week, I was walking down a street with a couple of boys who frequent the dar chebab (youth center) where I do most of my volunteering as a PCV. One of the boys had ripped up sheets of paper into tiny scraps. He began to let them go, so that they fluttered away in the wind. I asked him in Darija, that is, Moroccan Arabic, "Why are you doing that?" as I ran to pick up the scraps of paper.

When I rejoined them, the one who had dropped the pieces of paper asked me where he should put the scraps of paper he was holding. He motioned as if he should put them in his pocket. I told him that that was a good idea, and put the scraps I was holding into my own pockets.

In recalling this interaction, I am reminded of another instance in which I was picking up scraps of paper which had scattered in the wind here in my town. A few weeks ago, I was walking down a street. A motorized vehicle with a tarp tied over the sides and the top of the vehicle, but not over the back of it, passed me. As it passed me, numerous small sheets of paper flew out of the back of the vehicle. As I bent to pick up the pieces of paper, I saw that others were yet flying out of the vehicle.

Once I got further down the street, some young children, perhaps five, six and seven years old, saw me picking up the pieces of paper. They began to scurry around and pick up the pieces of paper and bring them to me.

Are those kids going to pick up litter, or things which end up becoming garbage, when I'm not doing so in front of them? I don't know. Ultimately they're responsible for their actions, just like I'm responsible for mine. I can, and should, model the behavior that I would like to see in the world. Otherwise I'll just end up complaining about what I don't like. Rather than actually doing something about it.

Summer Camp 2011

For ten days spread between the end of last month and the beginning of this month, I was at Summer Camp here in Morocco. Moroccan kids end their academic year in June, and they're off from school until September, so during the summer, Moroccan kids go 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 in which 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.

At this specific Summer Camp location, we were both north of my town, 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 Summer Camp, given how hot it has been in my town. In addition to it not being as hot as it has been in my town, 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 ran on and near the street on which the camp was located, and grocery stores were within a block.

The Moroccan Ministry of Youth and Sport runs 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.

On the day 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 any English. I asked them basic questions like "How are you?" and "Where are you from?" but some of them could not answer them. I also held up some of my fingers a few times and asked them what numbers they were, but they didn't know. However, I also interviewed students at many other levels of English speaking proficiency, including one exceptional student who was probably just one stage or two shy of being fluent in 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. Some of us PCVs then taught English for the next six days of camp. I was assigned with another PCV to teach the second lowest level English class. However, we taught much of our class time teaching the present continuous tense. So, we taught the students in our class how to form and say sentences like "I am studying English."

After having a modest breakfast of coffee, milk, bread and jam with the campers, and then teaching the students English for an hour and a half in the morning, on some of the earlier days of camp, some of the other PCVs and the Moroccan staff took the campers to the beach in the late morning and returned in the early afternoon. The camp was so close to the beach that they walked to the beach.

On each day of the camp, we PCVs ate lunch with the campers at the facility where the camp was being held. At lunch, we usually ate salad, some meat which was usually chicken or beef, and, of course, bread. There's always bread at a Moroccan meal.

In the afternoons, we PCVs we also ran clubs for the campers. Other PCVs ran a theatre club, a music and dance club, a sports club, and a country club, where campers learned about foreign countries.

Another PCV, Kristen, and I ran a creative writing club, where we taught campers basic writing activities like writing letters, brief biographical descriptions of people, and poetry. One day during the creative writing club, I discussed humor with the campers in the club and what makes jokes funny in the USA. I was impressed at the jokes which the students wrote.

In addition to teaching English and running clubs, as PCVs, we were also trying to monitor and direct the campers' behavior by assigning them to five different teams named after foreign countries. Campers lost and won points for their teams based on what they did. Campers lost points for their team if they threw trash on the ground, swore, talked to each other in class, and otherwise disruptively behaved. Campers won points for their teams if they picked up garbage, 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. At the end of the camp, the team with the most points won prize bags containing short books and food.

Later in the day after club time, we PCVs also ate dinner with the campers. At camp, dinner usually consisted first of harira, Darija for "soup," followed by some kind of meat and bread. For dessert after dinner, sometimes we ate fruit, and sometimes we ate yogurt.

After dinner, each night, the campers performed in talent shows. Typically the kids danced and sang in the talent shows.

After each evening's talent show, we turned in for the night. As PCVs, we slept at the same facility as the campers. However, we slept in a different building from the campers.

One afternoon, some of us PCVs and the Moroccan staff took the kids to a nearby town and walked through the medina, or the old part of the town, with its narrow, winding streets. Given that some of the students at camp were poor and thus had probably not traveled much, I was glad that we showed them a little more of the region in which camp was held, since some of them had likely never previously been to that region of Morocco.

On the second to the last full day of camp, those of us PCVs who had conducted LPIs (language proficiency interviews) at the beginning of camp again interviewed campers to re-assess their proficiency in understanding and speaking English. I was pleased to see that a significant percentage of campers had improved in understanding and speaking English. Almost all of the ones I interviewed on the first day of camp who didn't understand any English had clearly become able to understand and speak basic phrases. Although I wasn't one of the teachers who had instructed them, I nevertheless found it hugely fulfilling and satisfying to be interviewing those students, and witnessing their progress in learning English.

On the last full day of the camp, we PCVs held an English Olympiad in which the campers participated. Each pair of PCVs who taught English class together over the previous six days ran a station at which we quizzed campers on what we taught during our particular English class. However, each camper only attended the same English class over the previous six days, so some campers were much more likely to be able to answer particular questions during the English Olympiad than other campers who had not attended the English classes in which particular material had been taught.

During the second half of this Summer Camp, we operated under an altered schedule because Ramadan started halfway through our camp. 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 12:30pm. Breakfast and lunch were not served. 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, dates, "helwa shbakiya," Darija for a specific Moroccan sweet served during Ramadan, hard-boiled eggs, orange juice, coffee, milk, bread and jam. Around midnight, we ate a meal just before turning in for the night which closely resembled what we had been eating for lunch before Ramadan started. When the kitchen staff served us this midnight meal, they also gave us bags containing yogurt, bread, cheese, and sometimes cookies, 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, 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, because I do not agree with basic statements in Islam. Islam states that Jesus did not die on the cross. Since I disagree strongly with this statement in Islam, 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.

Garbage

In my town there are garbage men who come to pick up trash, usually every week, and usually more than once a week. However, they don't always come on the same day of the week.

In light of how people here rummage through the trash cans and bags of trash which people leave outside their homes, often spilling trash onto the street, I don't leave my trash out in front of my apartment overnight. I don't care whether people know what's in my trash; indeed, there is nothing remarkable or embarrassing about my trash. Rather, I want to do what I can to avoid trash being scattered on the street. I've seen someone on my street sifting through trash, causing it to spill onto the street, even just within the fairly narrow window of time in which the garbage men here in my town usually arrive, between 7:00 a.m. and 9:00 a.m.

So, I don't even leave it outside in the morning. Instead I wait to hear the garbage truck approaching, usually honking its horn to help announce its presence, then I get up and take the trash outside. However, sometimes they collect all of the garbage on my street before I can make it outside in time to catch them. So it can be a tricky matter, just trying to get rid of garbage!

This morning the garbage men came. They had already left my street by the time I got outside. However, this morning my garbage bag had a lot of food scraps in it, including onion skin, a few bad olives, and residue of pasta sauce, and I didn't want to keep it in my apartment as it would have continued causing odors which likely would have attracted various bugs. So I went off in search of the garbage men. First I walked to the end of my street, and immediately found the garbage men on the street perpendicular to mine, and handed my bag of refuse to them.

I'm certainly thankful that my town has garbage pickup. Not all PCVs in Morocco live in towns where their garbage is picked up. I'm also thankful that my town has garbage pickup given how many Moroccans often deal with trash.

Many Moroccans just drop articles of trash as they are walking outside. For this reason, I am glad that in addition to the pickup of household trash by the men with the garbage truck, there are also municipal employees who walk around the city with wheelbarrows collecting trash.

However, it has also occurred to me that perhaps people drop trash outside since they expect these municipal employees to pick it up. One day I thought that perhaps because the city provides that service, that that is why I once saw a girl discard a juice carton by placing it on top of a small pile of trash by the side of the road. That is, perhaps she left it there because she knew that someone was going to come along and take it away while picking up trash with a wheelbarrow.  

An Unexpected Role Model

I've been exceptionally busy the last couple of weeks. A couple of weeks ago, some other PCVs and I helped some Moroccans who were doing some health education at an event in a town a couple of hours from where I live.

More recently, over a series of a few days, I helped coordinate the activities of a half dozen other PCVs who were here in my town. Some of them were here to help educate about health and environmental issues.

During the same few days, in a park here in my town, many members of my community were performing, including by dancing and singing. A friend of mine who's a PCV sang and played his guitar in the park here on one of those nights.

At the same time, kids here in my site were painting murals around town. We were also doing other community beautification projects. As we were planting some trees one day, this one boy, who honestly looks rather haggard, and who actually is an orphan, started picking up candy wrappers and other trash, and started throwing it in a plastic bag. Keep in mind that youths here, as in many places in the world, often discard their trash by simply dropping it on the ground. So, knowing what youths often do with their garbage here, and that this boy has no parents to guide him and correct his behavior, I was especially taken aback when I saw him picking up trash and throwing it in a plastic bag.