Second Visit Back to the USA, First Visitor From the USA

For the last nine days of December, I was back in the USA to celebrate Christmas with my family. It felt great; in fact, it was a relief to be there, in many ways, for various reasons.

For one thing, I've found being a Christian in Morocco to be more challenging than I would've expected it to be. During my conversations with Moroccans, sometimes they ask me if I'm Muslim. I reply that I'm Christian, and often they reply that I should be Muslim, or with some equivalent sentiment. In this context, I often feel like they're not interested in learning why I'm Christian. Indeed, I had one such conversation on my way to this cyber today, which underscores the very feeling I am trying to express in this paragraph. Being around people who don't share my faith, and who aren't interested in learning about it, consequently I feel like I'm not part of a faith community in the town in which I live. Consequently, when I'm in the town, I don't feel supported in my faith by the other people in the town.

It was in this context that I was quite emotional at Christmas Mass on Christmas morning. I was beyond relieved to be around other Christians. People, I'm sure, often say and do things, and think that in doing those things, that they have no effect on others. And I suspect that some of the people singing in that church on Christmas morning didn't think that their song could have been as supportive as it was. But just listening to others singing Christmas hymns on Christmas morning, I felt so supported and nourished, as a result of knowing that I was surrounded by people who share my faith in Jesus Christ. I was reminded, in an immediate sense, that I am part of a Christian community, even though while living in my current residence in Morocco, I am geographically removed from it.

I also was as emotional as I was on this visit because of other restrictions in my life here in Morocco. Life here in Morocco is challenging for women. How, you might ask, does that affect me, since I am a man?

For one thing, insofar as Moroccan women are expected not to interact with men in the same ways that American women interact with men, I have altered how I interact with women here in Morocco, from how I interact with women in the USA. I interact with women differently here in Morocco than I did in the states, but that doesn't mean that I'm used to the restrictions--or that I endorse them. In the states, many women supported me emotionally in ways which women cannot do so here. In the states, I would meet up with female friends for coffee or meals. Here in the conservative town in which I live, Moroccan women are rarely seen in cafes. In fact, unless they're going to someone else's house, going shopping, or to the hammam, they're generally not going out, but instead staying home. In the states, I was used to female friends greeting me with hugs, and I was used to greeting them with hugs. Here in Morocco, men are expected to wait to see if a Moroccan woman extends her hand to shake hands, a gesture short of a hug. In this context, I certainly don't have the type of conversations with Moroccan women, with the attendant emotional trust, confiding and support, which I enjoyed in the states.

In another sense, I'm affected emotionally by how women here are treated. I don't enjoy hearing about women being harassed. Usually when I hear about a woman being harassed in Morocco, it's a female PCV who has been harassed. Female PCVs are called "gazelles" and other demeaning terms by men who catcall them. One female PCV was treated like a prostitute: a car would roll up next to her and she was asked to get into the car. Not only am I disturbed just hearing about what is said to these women; I'm also disturbed by how they're affected by being treated in these ways. At least one female PCV left Morocco because of such harassment; another confided to me that she is considering leaving Morocco, and ending her Peace Corps service early, partly because of such harassment. While I listen and try to lend support, I feel that there is little I can do to actually make the situation better. Accordingly, at times PCVs deal with frustration over such treatment.

Add in the homesickness. Yes, I still get homesick, homesickness which is brought on in large part by living in a culture which feels as foreign as it does, homesickness which is brought on also by not being able to communicate that well in one of the languages here in Morocco, and which is brought on also by being the only American living here in this town. I feel that no one else living here in my town can really understand my situation.

Consequently, I don't have the emotional support here in my town which I feel that I need. And in addition to the challenge of a lack of emotional support, it's also culturally inappropriate for me to show my grief or sadness around Moroccans when those emotions arise in me.

Thus during my visit back to the USA for Christmas, I was emotional at times. I was letting out a lot which had been pent up in me, even though when I am alone in my apartment here in Morocco, I cry whenever I feel that I have to cry.

I have thought about why this visit was so much more emotional for me than my visit back to the USA in July last year, when I returned to the USA for my friend Rob's wedding. I've thought that just before that visit, I'd had about a month where work was slowing down at the dar chebab, or youth center, where I do most of my volunteering as a PCV. Thus, when I returned to the USA in July last year, I had had a dry spell of work which lasted only one month. However, when I returned to the USA five months later, in December, for Christmas, I'd had a long, slow patch workwise: except for Summer Camp, which lasted about ten days in the end of July and the beginning of August, I had very little work to do for a period of five months. For that reason, I think that this visit was more challenging. Just before this visit, insofar as I had been less busy, I had been facing the challenges in a more direct, and less distracted way, since I hadn't been working as much as earlier in the year.

I've also thought about how I have been living here in Morocco for 15 months. Despite how I have been living here that long, I still feel conscious of how foreign and different life here feels to me. I still feel so challenged by it for the reasons I've mentioned above. Perhaps it is as hard as it is because I know that it is still challenging, because I know that it hasn't gotten as smooth and easy as I would have liked it to be.

Given that I have been experiencing these challenges, I am all the more grateful to have gone back to the USA twice during my Peace Corps service. Some PCVs don't go back to the USA for a visit at all during their 27 months in the Peace Corps.

I think that because of all these challenges here in Morocco for me, my visit back to the USA at Christmas flew by. The time with my folks and my sister down south went quickly. Then my time up in New York with more family members also sped by.

Before long, I was back on planes flying back here to Morocco. I was glad to have a long layover in Zurich. I left the airport and walked around the city, taking in the wonderful sights of architecture there in the city, including some magnificently constructed churches. After four flights, I landed back here in Morocco.

I was very glad that when I landed, my friend Melanie from the USA was here in Morocco, where she had already been vacationing for several days. She drove us south in a rental car she was renting, and we visited Cascades d'Ouzoud, a spectacular series of falls northeast of Marrakech. She drove us down to the town in which I live, and she stayed here in town for one night, at a hotel I had helped her to find some weeks ago. Then she drove us up to Marrakech, and we parted ways the next morning, as she drove north to continue her vacation, and I headed back down south to the town in which I live.

In retrospect, I think that her visit brought into sharper relief many of the aspects of life here in Morocco which I find challenging. Hearing about how she was treated during her travels before I met up with her, I was reminded of ways in which I find life challenging here in Morocco. She told me of how, rather than speaking with her, Moroccan men would speak to her traveling companion, who was a man with whom she had been traveling before I met up with her when I landed back in Morocco. She also related how some Moroccans had been very aggressive with her in asking her for money: one woman in Marrakech, who had drawn henna on my friend's hand, pushed her body into my friend when my friend didn't want to give her more money for the henna. For one thing, I didn't enjoy hearing about how my friend had been treated. But also, listening to her, I was reminded of much of what I don't like about life in Morocco.

How have I been reacting to feeling these emotions? I've been taking my own advice, partly as I set out in a previous blog post, entitled "Tips for PCVs and PCTs," which I wrote in August 2011. In that blog entry, among other things, I wrote about how I deem it important to immediately acknowledge one's feelings. So, once my friend and I parted ways and I returned to town here, when I was feeling down, I thought about how I was feeling. I thought, "I am feeling homesick and sad." Next I thought, "It is completely normal for me to be experiencing these feelings." And after that, I thought, "Literally thousands of other PCVs around the world are either feeling this way right now, or they have felt this way at other points during their Peace Corps service." Once I had evaluated my situation in these ways, immediately I felt better.

And then I thought, "OK, this is great that I feel better; but what am I going to do about going forward? From where am I acquiring my strength as I move forward? How am I going to derive meaning in my daily life amidst these challenges?" And when I asked myself these questions, I was reminded that even though I may not see entirely why I am here, there are reasons why I am here which I cannot see. I thought of a Scripture passage which I especially like, 2 Corinthians 4:18, which advises, "So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen..." There are so many ways in which we, as PCVs, just like everyone else in life, can have positive effects on others' lives. Yet we won't see all of those beneficial effects. Thus there is all the more reason to go forward in faith. We have our own ideas about how we can be helpful, and productive, and good; and then God has God's own ideas about what we can do, how we can help others. As Abraham Lincoln noted, "The Almighty has His own purposes." So I remind myself that events sometimes might not unfold in my life exactly as I had envisioned or hoped they would occur. I also remind myself that there are beneficial reasons, often unknown to me, why events happen the way that they do.

Come, Sit, Eat Again

My first full day back in my town here down south, I went to the home of a wonderful family. While I always enjoy going to their home to visit them, on this particular visit, I went there to introduce myself to Stan, another PCV (Peace Corps Volunteer) who arrived here and started staying with them during my recent travels.

He was an Environment PCV before coming to live here in my town. However, when they transferred Stan to my town, they transferred him into the YD (Youth Development) sector, so now he's a YD PCV, just like me. But, having done extensive environmental work back in the states, he'll likely do a good deal of environmental work here in our town.

I'm happy that Stan is here. He is a very nice guy, very soft-spoken, and very considerate. He's an elderly fellow; in fact, I often joke around with him and other PCVs that he resembles the elderly Obi-Wan Kenobi, as portrayed by Sir Alec Guinness, from the first three Star Wars films which were made.

So, I went to his host family's home to meet him. I wanted to show him where I live, so that he would be able to stop by whenever he wanted. Conscious of how it was then very late in the afternoon, and thus getting very close to when the family would be eating "ftur," or the meal which Moroccans eat at dusk to break their fast, I told his host sister, "He'll be back in time to eat ftur with all of you." She responded with what could best be described as unrestrained incredulity. In total disbelief and confusion, she didn't hesitate as she instantly asked, shocked, "And you?! You're coming back to eat ftur with us, right?!" In her reaction, she showed how, once you are invited to a Moroccan's home, they are very hospitable, in contrast to how when you are in public and you encounter a Moroccan you don't know. And, in this case, even though I just happened to drop by unannounced, and even though I was about to leave, I was expected to come back to eat with them.

So, I brought Stan to my apartment so he would know where to find me. We didn't hang out at my place very long, though, because ftur was going to be very soon. So we turned around and made the short walk, perhaps 5 minutes, back to his host family's home.

At some point after having the light meal, which we ate just after 7 p.m., I got up to leave. Stan's host mother was surprised. She told me, "You're not leaving; you have to stay for dinner." So I sat back down and continued watching TV with them.

Significantly later in the evening, certainly after 10 p.m., they brought out a tajine (a word in Darija which stands not only for a Moroccan stew, but also the clay container which holds it). The tajine consists of vegetables on top of any of various kinds of meat. In the last week or so, at their house, we've been eating tajine with goat meat in it. Stan told me that they recently slaughtered a goat. One eats the tajine by breaking off pieces of bread (large, round, flat bread) and using the bread to grab pieces of vegetable and meat for oneself out of the communal tajine. After eating the tajine, we've been eating fruit for dessert, which is common to have for dessert after dinner in Morocco. One night, we ate some muskmelon, which I especially enjoy. Other nights, we've had grapes for dessert.

So, it has been nice to experience their hospitality, as always. It's also been nice that the heat has started to abate since I arrived back in town. It has only helped, in terms of the heat, that we have been getting some rain in the last week or so. Sometimes it's only been a few brief drops. However, the other day when I was here in the cyber on the Internet, it started raining pretty hard, complete with thunder, and presumably lightning, but I didn't see it, since I was inside.

The other day I took Stan to the top of this hill here in town to show him this amazing view of a mountain here in my town, with the palmerie, the massive grove of palm trees, in the foreground. Soon after we started walking down the road from the top of the hill, it started raining, and not lightly, either. We started walking more quickly. Remembering the substantial downpour we had recently had, and looking up at the ominous color of the sky, I opined, "I don't think that this is going to be one of those extremely brief showers. We started walking even more quickly, only to observe a few seconds later that the rain was lessening. And then a few seconds later, we started chuckling as the rain had petered out to a few isolated drops. And then very soon thereafter, it stopped altogether.

While I've been grateful for Stan's company, I must admit that I started feeling down in the last week, from missing my family and my friends and life back in the USA. And a couple of days before I started feeling a little down, I really had honestly told my mom that I was feeling pretty good, considering how there is little work to do right now since the Dar Chebab (youth center) is closed right now over the summer. I've been reading a lot during the copious spare time I've had lately. But in the midst of all the spare time, despite my enjoying the huge amount of reading I've been doing, a little undercurrent of homesickness had crept up within me since I had sent that e-mail to her.

Faced with this most recent wave of challenging emotion, I thought it only appropriate to follow my own advice. Consequently, I acknowledged my feelings to myself at the time, and almost immediately I felt better about it. Just in deciding to be conscious about how I felt, and to confront how I was feeling, I took a small, yet nevertheless major, significant, and powerful step in favor of my own well-being. In essence, I was glad that I had taken care of myself! And knowing that I have to be consciously strategic and mindful of how I respond to my own personal challenges, and how I should follow my own advice, I decided to air my feelings by blogging about my recent emotional challenge. And, it also seemed appropriate to respond to this challenge by blogging about it, since in doing so, I am sharing with others how I had dealt effectively with it, which might, in turn, help them to cope with challenges.

In that vein, of trying to help, I had also come to a similar conclusion in the preceding several weeks. It had occurred to me that it may appear like I've been complaining about various aspects of my life here in Morocco since I arrived back here in Morocco from my trip to the states last month. I decided at some point in the last few months that I had to start being more expansive than I had been in my blog, that I had to stop censoring myself as much as I had been in my previous blog entries.

Why, you might ask, had I been censoring myself somewhat? Because I didn't want to be focusing on the aspects of life here in Morocco which are not my favorite parts of my experience here. I dealt with them without blogging about them, so as to try to remain positive on the blog.

And then at a certain point, I thought, "I am not giving people back in the USA an accurate, true picture of Morocco. In fact, I might potentially be misleading people who are currently applying to the Peace Corps, and who might end up as PCVs in Morocco." So, I am now consciously writing about aspects of life in Morocco which may seem to irritate me. While they may at times seem to be things which had not previously been problematic for me, oftentimes I am writing about phenomena which at times have irked me for much of the time I've been living here.

When I choose to let them irritate me, that is. I've been trying to not let things annoy me, and instead to remind myself that God wants us to love each other, and not focus on petty things which are ultimately not important in any way whatsoever.

I thus hope to share a helpful perspective by blogging about such challenges. Over time, I have been learning to deal with such challenges. And in dealing with them, and in sharing how I deal with them, perhaps I can help other PCVs.

Tips for PCVs and PCTs

I've been compiling a list of tips, or insights, which I feel that I gained when I was a PCT (Peace Corps Trainee) and thus far while I've been a PCV (Peace Corps Volunteer), and which RPCVs (Returned Peace Corps Volunteers) and current PCVs have either explicitly or implicitly suggested to me. I thought it could be helpful to some people if I posted them here. While I have written them with PCVs and PCTs in mind, I think that they could be helpful generally in life, so even if you're not a PCT or a PCV, you might find these to be helpful.

***Take one day at a time. If you find yourself looking forward, only look forward to the next thing that's going to happen in a few weeks or less.

***Acknowledge your feelings. This is another one that is very important. If you try to squelch, smother, or ignore your feelings, such as homesickness, and despair arising out of homesickness, it is likely to get much, much worse. By contrast, by acknowledging your feelings, you are then set to take the next step and deal with them.

***Keep in mind that how you feel is most certainly going to change. This is another huge one. Oftentimes PCVs can feel as if the state in which they currently find themselves is going to continue for the rest of their service. In fact, that is usually not the case, as you continue to adjust.

***Remember that you're not alone. Remember that right now, there are literally thousands of other PCTs/PCVs experiencing challenges in the Peace Corps.

Remember that over 200,000 people have served as PCVs.

Try to maintain perspective.

Upon arriving in your final site, set yourself definitely achievable tasks which will at the same time help you progress in many larger ways, namely:
Learn five new words each day in the host country language;
Meet five new people each day.

Take the time, in fact, make it a part of your routine, to do things each day which nourish your soul, namely:
Write down some things every day for which you are grateful. Be sure that at least some of them are things about your present situation (i.e., great specific people you have met, specific activities you have done in your work, things you get to do in your free time, a new food you have gotten to try, etc.)

Make it part of your daily routine to do something each day which is important to you. For me, that has been reading a few pages of the Bible every morning when I wake up.

Value all of your accomplishments, no matter what size they seem to be.

Remind yourself that you are never going to see all of the positive effects you are having as a PCT and as a PCV.

Try to be flexible. Remember, you're living in a foreign culture, and many things, from transportation, to food, and plenty of other things aren't going to pan out exactly the way you would like them to. Similarly, people are likely not to operate just as you would like them to; host country nationals are likely to be different from you, potentially including in their work habits. Keep all this in mind if you start to become frustrated.

Try to be patient. With others. With yourself. With time. Things probably will not happen when you want them to happen; it might take longer for certain things to happen than you originally hope.

Get some exercise multiple times every week.

Even when the purpose is not to get exercise, just going for a walk can help, including to clear your head, and/or to shift your perspective.

Appreciate the natural beauty and landscape around you.

Try to maintain a sense of humor.

Develop friendships with host country nationals as well as PCVs.

Find the right balance between spending time with host country nationals, spending time with other PCVs, and spending time alone. All of these are important for different reasons, including but not limited to learning about where you are and developing as a person and as a PCV and as a citizen of the USA; getting time with those who understand you; and resting and recharging.

Talk about how you feel. When trouble hits, share your feelings, whether it be with another PCV, a host country national, or friends and family back home, whether by e-mail, through the postal mail, the telephone, Skype or gmail chat.

Keep in touch with folks at home, but don't rely too much on the net.

Use the postal mail. Putting physical pen to paper can be therapeutic. Also, later in life, you'll have more mementos of your Peace Corps experience in the paper letters and other correspondence written with a pen.

Send your postal mailing address to people you love, and ask them to write to you in the postal mail.

Reward yourself.

Take care of yourself.

Ask for help when you need it.

Remind yourself why you're doing this.

Remind yourself of what your values are.

Lights Out: My Darkest Hours as a PCV

Over the rest of the weekend on which I wrote my last blog entry, I went on a great hike to the top of a butte, with my friend and fellow Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV) Ben, in his site, less than 100 kilometers from my town. Our hike was similar to the hike I did in my site earlier this month, which I mentioned in my last blog entry. When we did the hike in his site, we had panoramic views of his town and the surrounding palmeries, or groves of palm trees there. Of course it was a good weekend, as we shared organic Oreos and discussed traveling each of us hopes to do in the future. I always enjoy the camaraderie of fellow PCVs. The next day, before I left, we had lunch in the palmerie. Like me, he lives just a couple blocks from a palmerie, which is essentially the equivalent of a huge, serene park.

The following weekend, which is now last weekend, I enjoyed the company of a dozen other PCVs for sessions in which we discussed future volunteer activities. And, of course, we had some time for fun, too! That night in that city, we went dancing at a nightclub. I delighted in dancing to songs by Michael Jackson and James Brown. As we were tearing up the dance floor, I asked my fellow PCVs, "Are we really in the Peace Corps???"

Then most of us, me included, left the city on Sunday last weekend. And while I anticipated a dip in my mood after such a fun--and social--weekend, I did not guard sufficiently against such a challenging decline in my spirits. Consequently, as the week wore on, despair crept into my being, and began to grow like a tumor.

As early as Wednesday the 28th, I was in dire emotional straits. One of my best friends in the U.S. had coincidentally just told me over e-mail that she wanted to talk with me on the phone. So, we spoke that night. Unsurprisingly, I felt better after I had talked with her about my feelings. Lesson learned: talk with a family member or friend, perhaps in the U.S., during my darkest spells during my Peace Corps service.

Yet the tenacious, merciless, relentless homesickness wouldn't leave me alone. Which leads me to share some of my spiritual beliefs. My mom has repeatedly suggested over the years that I read "The Screwtape Letters" by C.S. Lewis. She had even given me multiple copies of the book over the years. I believe it is not a coincidence that, after years of having that book on my various bookshelves, I finally started reading it last week. In the book, C.S. Lewis presents a series of advisory and didactic letters written by an important Under Secretary in Hell named Screwtape, to his nephew Wormwood, who has been charged with malevolently misguiding the soul of his particular "patient." I have long believed in guardian angels, as well as in the existence of those spirits who aim to derail us on our paths of, and toward, spiritual growth.

Consequently, I was not only enjoying, but, far more importantly, was finding spiritual nourishment in reading this particular book. And I do believe Lewis' words helped me to start to realize how this counterproductive construction, or overfocusing on, and lamenting, my homesickness, had been erected, and fortified in my mind. Early in the day on the 28th, I read how Lewis, writing from the point-of-view of Screwtape, described how God allows disappointment to occur at the beginning of all human undertakings. He wrote, it happens when a young boy, enthralled by ancient Greek tales, hunkers down to actually learn Greek. And when newlyweds begin the actual activity of learning to live together. In all areas of life, it is present at the shift from imagining to the task of actually doing. God takes this chance on us because God dreams of us freely serving God. God wants us to be free, so God will not carry us, instead allowing us to do it ourselves. And then Screwtape whispers to Wormwood, in effect, "And that's where we come in..." But perhaps not as destructively as they would like, as Screwtape then warns Wormwood, because if humans successfully navigate these early difficulties, they become far less emotional and thus much more immune to temptation...

With these words, implicitly deconstructing the spiritual morass into which I had fallen, which had been percolating through my consciousness, I continued through my day, not yet having realized their perfect applicability to my present situation. That night, I noticed that an object in my apartment, which had previously appeared to me to be a fan, now seemed like it potentially could be a heater. Given that I sleep in multiple layers of clothing and under multiple blankets each night, I was obviously interested in testing my new perception. Plugging it in and turning it on, I realized it was a fan--and a heater--which blows hot air out of it. Soon after making this discovery, the lights went off--as did all of the power in my apartment. I wasn't able to remedy the situation by visiting the fuse box, since I needed my neighbor's help to do that, and he wasn't home.

I laid back down in bed. As I lay in bed with the lights out, I first thought of Chris Martin of the band Coldplay when he sings the song "Fix You," asking in one of the lyrics if it could be worse. But what that lyric made me realize was that during the time that I had been previously lamenting my situation, it could have been worse--and indeed, DID turn worse, once I became unable to turn the lights back on.

And yet, at the time, I didn't realize how appropriate it was that I had thought of a lyric from that song. In that song, he sings that when you try as best as you can, but you're still not where you want to be, then tears gush down your face. Earlier that day, in the midst of feeling like I couldn't cope with my overwhelming homesickness, and thus couldn't possibly envision myself being here in Morocco for the rest of my term of Peace Corps service, I felt like a failure. I crumpled; I wilted, unable to stand emotionally. In my frantic desperation, I wept tears of powerlessness, helplessness, as I cried out in agony, feeling trapped, feeling that somehow I had to continue, yet feeling totally unable to continue.

But again, it was very appropriate that I thought of that song, because, in retrospect, I feel that what the song describes is what then happened: the Light will show you the way. It was as if someone had said to me, "I'm going to try to mend your soul."

I thought that if I ended my Peace Corps service early, I would regret it for the rest of my life. Upon arriving in Philadelphia last September for Staging, the orientation just before flying here to Morocco, I saw a poster advertising the Peace Corps. It advised, "Never have to start sentences with "I should've..." Of course the ad aims to get people to join the Peace Corps, telling them not to regret never having gone into the Peace Corps. But during my most recent emotionally trying period, I approached the message in that ad from a new angle. I thought that I didn't want to have to say sentences such as "I should've finished my Peace Corps service." And I thought of the lyric in that same Coldplay song, "Fix You," in which Chris Martin sings that if you don't try, you will never know who you were, who you could've been.

And I also thought of a particular part of the Gospel of Matthew. In Matthew 25:40, 42-45, in the afterlife,

The King will say,
"I was hungry but you would not feed Me,
thirsty but you would not give Me a drink;
I was a stranger but you would not welcome Me in your homes,
naked but you would not clothe Me;
I was sick and in prison but you would not take care of Me."

Then they will answer Him,
"When, Lord, did we ever see You hungry or thirsty
or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison,
and we would not help You?"

The King will reply:
"I tell you,
whenever you refused to help one of these least important ones,
you refused to help Me."

And so I thought that if I ended my Peace Corps service early, and stopped helping people here who are in such dire need, Jesus would ask me, "Why did you abandon Me?" I decided that I didn't want to be asked that question.

And so my angst and torment was quite easily extinguished. In an instant, as I considered Jesus' words, my mental state had been drastically transformed for the better.

And I thought it a very good idea to devote some thought to how I had gotten to such an unfortunate state. Listening to Bono of the band U2 sing the song "Stuck in a Moment You Can't Get Out Of," I gained some insight into what had happened. In that song, Bono sings that he was not conscious, was partly asleep. He then sings that sinking down can be comfortable, that is, until you discover how deep you can sink.

I had not been paying attention to the functioning of my own mind. Tiny bits of an unhealthy type of longing, a clinging variety of homesickness, had slowly crept and advanced further and further into my mind that week. When it revisited me that night, after listening to that U2 song, I immediately responded with a force and clarity of mind I had been lacking during its previous visits. I thought, quite purposefully, strongly, and with conviction and fierce love, that I am here in Morocco to help people who want my help. The unhealthy, clinging, selfish type of homesickness immediately evaporated. While it revisited me with a vengeance, repeatedly, and in rapid succession, I responded the same way each time, finally forcing it out on its way.

Not that there is anything wrong or unnatural with feeling homesick. In fact, a certain type of homesickness IS natural. But not when it comes to dominate and dictate my actions, preventing me from helping others. Then it has grown into something which has to be dismantled, reined in. But better yet, prevent it from even getting to that point by being present, aware, conscious, deliberate and purposeful, and living with love. Lesson learned: Love is an extremely effective antidote to fear, loneliness and an unhealthy type of homesickness.

And in fact, the next day, I was very happy to spend time with those people here in my town who I have come to consider as my new host family, the family I mentioned in my last blog entry. As before, yesterday I was very happy to spend time with them, this time having a delicious lunch with them, which included a tasty vegetable tajine. Sharing their company, I was reminded of why I am here, to be making wonderful, loving connections with others.