Enjoying Just Walking In The Park

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

Cross-Cultural Exchange About Pets

Currently the kids who attend public school here in Morocco have a two-week break. Consequently there are fewer kids coming to the dar chebab (Darija, or Moroccan Arabic, for "youth center") where I do most of my volunteering as a PCV. Thus I also have fewer kids asking me questions about English.

When I've been going to the dar chebab for the last week or so, I've played some games of pool. The kids are so good at pool, though, that even when I play one of my best games, I still just barely lose!

Once the dar chebab had closed last night, I was walking home, incidentally with the boy who had bested me in our game of pool. We saw a dog at the side of the street, sniffing some sacks piled on the ground. The student asked me if people have dogs as pets in the US. I told him that many people keep dogs as pets in the US. In contrast, far fewer Moroccans keep dogs as pets. In fact, many Moroccans don't treat dogs well. I added that many people in the US keep cats as pets. When Moroccans have cats, the cats don't seem to live at the homes so much as they tend to be frequent visitors. The cats show up often and the people feed them.

I added that some people in the US keep fish as pets. My walking companion noted that people don't have fish as pets in Morocco. Later I considered why he had said that, and I thought that here in town, most people are impoverished. Thus it probably doesn't make sense to buy, in addition to the fish, a fish tank and special food for the fish. Also, they would also likely pay for the additional expense of the electricity for the fish tank.

Then we spoke a little bit about the animals which people here in town often have at their homes. I noted that people sometimes have pigeons, sheep and goats at their homes. However, I often think about how people don't have them so much as pets; rather, these animals help them to survive, since these people often live off of them; that is, they eat them!

Gone, But Not Forgotten

When I was in Rabat at the end of last month for my mid-service medical exam, I sent a letter to my folks in the states. It sounds like they received it about a week after I'd sent it. If I've got a letter to send to the states, if I'm about to travel to a major city here in Morocco, I usually wait until I get to the big city to mail it. That way, it will likely arrive sooner than if I mail it from the town in which I live. Once I mailed a letter to the states from the town in which I live, and it took six weeks to arrive!

Anyway, soon after my folks had received my letter, I received an e-mail message from my mom, in which, among other things, she acknowledged that they had received the letter. She also described how, when my dad was reading the letter, their dog, Star, walked over to my dad and started sniffing the letter! As Star was sniffing the letter, she started wagging her tail! It seems as though she picked up my scent on the letter!

Epiphany

This morning I got a phone call from Stan, my site mate (that is, the other PCV, or Peace Corps Volunteer, who also lives in my site, or town), asking me to meet him and his host father at an apartment they were visiting to see if perhaps Stan might move into it. Stan had previously said to me that he felt that I could help in translating for him when he goes to look at apartments, since I know more Darija than he does. So I got up and went to meet Stan and his host father. Given that the apartment was only a few blocks away from my apartment, I didn't have to walk far to meet them.

The apparent owner showed us into the apartment. First he brought us into a carpeted room with many pillows on the floor, common in Morocco. We all removed our shoes, as one typically does when stepping into a carpeted room in a Moroccan home. He offered tea and pastries to Stan and me. I appreciated that he asked if I wanted tea with or without sugar. Given that Moroccans typically sweeten their tea more than I like, I asked for tea without sugar.

Moroccans typically sit down with the person with whom they might potentially do business, and have tea and something accompanying it, like pastries in this case, or perhaps peanuts, before getting down to business. So, once I had had some tea and a pastry, we stood up and left that room, and went to see and discuss the rest of the apartment.

Though at this point, I must clarify that it turned out to not be an apartment, but rather two rooms in the apparent owner's home, unseparated from the rest of the house. In one of the rooms, a doorway with no door in it, and the shape of a window, with no window in it, led from the space which the owner wanted to rent, into the space which would not be rented. He said he would complete the wall so that the doorway and the window would be closed up and filled up by a wall.

Although this arrangement seemed a bit sketchy to me, Stan requested that I ask the apparent owner how much he wanted to charge for rent. The apparent owner replied with a rate that was more than twice the usual amount of rent for an apartment here in town. Given that the Peace Corps sets a ceiling for the amount of rent money they'll give us PCVs to pay our rent, and that this proposed rent amount was well above that ceiling, a counter-bargain clearly had to be forthcoming if Stan was going to rent this space. So he asked me to tell the apparent owner that because I rent an apartment with four rooms, that he would pay a certain amount he suggested, which was less than what I pay for my apartment. I can't say that I was surprised that this particular logic was not successful with this particular man who was showing us this space for rent, because he initially proposed such a high amount of rent. Essentially I felt that today provided another instance of how some Moroccans try to charge more for something when they are interacting with someone from the USA.

So, in the end, we left the building without having found someplace for Stan to rent. We walked along until we reached the main road, where we ran into a Moroccan teacher I had met a few months ago. He organized the festival of student talent, which I had briefly mentioned in my first blog entry in June of this year, with a PCV who lives in the town where he lives. It was good to see him. Notably, he speaks English fairly well. So, the vast majority of our conversation with him was in English. We spoke about a variety of topics, including some projects involving youth on which he has worked. At one point, when we were discussing development work, he said that he feels that it is more important for students to develop skills and abilities than it is for a community to receive gifts of money and property. I thanked him for acknowledging the value of developing oneself as compared with receiving cash and goods. It encourages me when I interact with Moroccans, certainly including Moroccan teachers, who recognize and express this principle.

I also enjoyed his easygoing, welcoming, familiar and jocular manner. At one point, he said to Stan and me that you don't see a lot of dogs in Morocco. He said that Moroccans are not fond of dogs, so that they don't treat them that well.

Then he said to us,

"OK, I'm going to tell you a joke.

So there was this exchange program between Morocco and the USA. A Moroccan dog went to the USA for a year, and an American dog came to Morocco for a year. After the year was over, the two dogs met in the airport in Casablanca.

The American dog asked the Moroccan dog, 'So, what did you think of the US?'

The Moroccan dog replied, 'It's a great place. There is a lot of beautiful scenery; there is a lot of diversity, people of many different origins, like Japanese, Mexican, Irish. So, yes, it was very interesting.' The Moroccan dog then asked the American dog, 'So, what did you think of Morocco?'

The American dog replied, 'You know, I never realized that I was a dog until I came to Morocco.'"

Moroccan Hospitality to the Rescue

Recently I headed out in the late morning, as I usually do, to buy some bread to make a sandwich for myself for lunch, and to go to a cyber. However, given that Ramadan had just ended in the last couple of days, all of the shops were closed.

Though there were a few people milling about, there were far fewer people out and about than usual. Given that I had very little food at home, and definitely no bread, I figured that I was probably going to be missing lunch. I tried to shrug it off, and, thinking that I could at least try to do something, I started off toward an apartment building I know to try to find out if there were any available apartments in it on behalf of Stan, the new PCV living in my town.

Soon after I turned onto the road toward that apartment building, I saw a fellow who lives here in town who is always friendly and welcoming to me. He invited me to come to his home for lunch. I was glad to accept, not only because I was hungry and didn't have much to eat at home, but also because he had invited me to his home months earlier, at times which weren't convenient for me.

So, I was happy to finally accept one of his invitations, and I turned around and started walking with him to his home. Right after we crossed one of the main streets here in town, he walked up to a group of men, some of whom were sitting on the curb, others in a car next to the curb, who were there talking. Given that typically in Morocco, if as a guy you're walking with another guy, and he starts talking with people, he shakes the hand of every guy there, and you do the same, even if you don't know them, even if he doesn't introduce you, and even if you think you're never going to see them again. So, once he had started shaking their hands, I did the same. After his very brief conversation with them, we continued on to his home.

We completed the short walk to his home very quickly, and proceeded up to the top floor, the third floor of the building. He immediately brought out some tea (which, here in Morocco, typically contains a lot of sugar) and removed the knit towel which was resting over the large plate holding a variety of cookies in front of us. When I finished my glass of tea, he asked me if I wanted more, which I did. More than once he told me to eat more cookies. He again offered me more tea, but I declined more tea at that point. Moroccans always encourage their house guests to eat and drink!

After we had had some tea and cookies, we continued watching TV. At one point, we were watching either a TV show or a movie which featured an actress who, I'm pretty sure, was Jennifer Lopez. They hadn't dubbed over the original English dialogue; rather, it had Arabic subtitles. So, I understood when I heard J. Lo's character tell her fellow character, "Change your shirt; you smell like dog," whereas my host laughed and repeated to me in Darija what she had just said, because he had just read it. I responded to him, in Darija, "Yeah, she didn't like that." When the two characters started slow dancing with their arms draped over each other in a bar in the next scene, my host changed the channel, about which I felt little regret.

Then I was more excited to get to see a little of a special on National Geographic Abu Dhabi which was set in Yosemite National Park. Although I understood very little of what was being said in that program, which was in Arabic, of course I could tell that they were observing small frogs in the water there in the park. And, toward the end of the program, I enjoyed seeing some footage showing some wide vistas in the park, which I especially appreciated having visited there and hiked there over a dozen times.

After my host and I had been watching TV for a while, he brought a large teapot and a type of water basin into the room. As typically done right before a meal in someone's home in Morocco, I placed my hands over the basin and he poured slightly warm water over my hands. When I told him "safi," meaning that he had poured enough water over my hands, he then handed me a towel to dry my hands.

He then brought in a tajine of chicken and olives, sitting in the juice of the chicken, and covered with French fries. He had also just brought in some bread (large, round, flat bread), from which we broke off small pieces, and which we used to dip in the juices of the tajine, and also used to grab olives, pieces of chicken, and French fries. We also used just our fingers to pick fries off the top of the chicken, which, incidentally, was a whole chicken, as is usual in a chicken tajine. (Each of us ate with the right hand; in Morocco, it is understood that the left hand is reserved for hygienic uses). Towards the end of the meal, he encouraged me to keep eating, but I didn't want to make myself uncomfortably full, so I told him I had had enough.

Also, I saw a plate of fruit which was waiting for us, so I left some room for that dessert. We enjoyed some melon and grapes for dessert.

Soon after we had finished dessert, he brought the teapot of warm water and the basin back into the room, and I again washed my hands. Soon thereafter, I then happily left his home, thanking him repeatedly, grateful for his generosity and hospitality which had saved me from being hungry for the afternoon.