Last Friday, I went to the home of one of my favorite families here in Morocco. They live in the town where I live down in the Sahara. If you don't know people well here in Morocco, it's proper etiquette not to show up at their home unannounced. On the other hand, if you've established a warm, familiar connection, it's acceptable to arrive at their home without having been invited on a specific day when you arrive at their home. Indeed, it almost seems that it's expected that you'll show up unannounced. With this particular family, in the past when I hadn't shown up to dine at their home for weeks, and then when I ran into them while out and about in town, they asked me where I had been and when I would be coming over to their home.
Accordingly, as it had been a few weeks since I had been at their home due to my recent travels, last Friday I went to their home for lunch. Given that it was Friday, they served couscous for lunch. Moroccans usually eat couscous for lunch on Fridays. Thus when it was time to eat, around 2:30 p.m., one of the daughters in the family brought out a large tajine filled with couscous. The word "tajine" refers either to the stew-like culinary creation bearing that name, or to the actual clay pottery in which either the tajine stew, or, instead in this particular case, couscous, is served. To keep the meal warm, the high, pointed clay pottery tajine lid is kept on top of the tajine dish until the meal is served. In the large tajine dish which was about 18 inches wide, on this particular day the couscous was topped with well-cooked carrot and pumpkin.
When she brought the couscous, she brought a few spoons for us to use in eating the couscous directly out of the communal tajine dish. Her sister, however, as usual, ate the couscous without a spoon, as some Moroccans do. She gathered some couscous from the tajine dish and rolled it into a ball in her hand and brought it to her mouth in her hand.
After we had finished with the couscous, we had some muskmelon for dessert, which I always enjoy. I find the muskmelon quite refreshing during warm weather such as we're having in the Sahara now.
As I rapidly approach my COS (Completion Of Service, or Close Of Service) date, which, at this point, is now less than a month away, I'm beginning to note in a fresher, almost urgent kind of way, what I have been appreciating during my time here in Morocco. I certainly include the hospitality I've experienced here, including at lunch last Friday, amongst the aspects of my experience here for which I've been most grateful to God.
Showing posts with label muskmelon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label muskmelon. Show all posts
Monday, September 17, 2012
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Summer Camp 2012 Part One
For the last couple of weeks, I was in northern Morocco working at a summer camp. Moroccan kids have been out of school since June, so some of them have been attending camps all over Morocco to learn more English and to engage in various extracurricular activities. At this particular camp where I was, the youths ranged in age from 11 to 17. The kids who attended this camp live in, and thus traveled to this camp from, various locations in Morocco.
While it was a camp, it was located in a city. Taxis run regularly on the street where the camp was held. Hanoots (Darija, or Moroccan Arabic, for "grocery stores") are within a block of where the camp was held. So, the camp was held in an urban area.
The camps are run by the Moroccan Ministry of Youth and Sports. As PCVs (Peace Corps Volunteers) we help to conduct activities at the camps. In addition to me, there were three other PCVs working at the camp: Cassandra, Rachel and Josh. All of them are also Youth Development PCVs. They're all in their first year of their Peace Corps service. We all traveled to this summer camp from the different towns where we live in various parts of Morocco. For the duration of the camp, we slept in our own room, in the same building in which the youths were sleeping.
At Camp, the kids wake up between 7am and 8am. We, the PCVs, the kids and the Moroccan staff, ate breakfast together at the camp a little after 8am. Typically it's tea and coffee, milk, croissants, some bread, either baguettes and/or the usual round, flat Moroccan bread, perhaps accompanied by butter and apricot jam.
For a couple of hours in the morning, the kids attend English class. At this camp, two PCVs taught beginner level English classes. I taught an intermediate level English class. Another PCV taught a more advanced level English class.
Not only did I know that I would be teaching an intermediate level English class, but since three of us PCVs interviewed the campers on the first day of camp to assess their English speaking abilities, I had a sense of what the students in my class both knew, and also found confusing, in the English language. I was entering the classroom aware that I could help by clarifying when to use the simple present verb tense and when to use the present continuous verb tense. So, I was helping them to determine when to say "I swim" and when to say "I am swimming."
While teaching English during this summer camp, I encountered difficulties in teaching which I usually face while teaching here in Morocco. Often there are students who aren't particularly focused on the lesson and who don't seem motivated to learn. During this summer camp, I decided to move such sluggish students so that they were no longer sitting next to each other, but instead were sitting between bright, motivated students. It seemed to help. The previously lethargic and uninterested students started taking more notes and following along more than they had been.
After English class, in the early afternoon, we PCVs, the kids and the Moroccan staff ate lunch together. For lunch, we often ate salad, followed by a tajine, which is somewhat like a Moroccan stew.
After lunch, there was free time. Some of the kids used the time to nap.
In the late afternoon, sometimes we PCVs ran activities for the kids. One day a couple of the other PCVs taught yoga to the kids. On the 4th of July, a couple of the other PCVs made chocolate chip cookies, which were delicious! The kids seemed to enjoy them too. On the 4th of July, I led a discussion with the kids about the 4th of July, why and how US citizens celebrate it as a holiday, and how the USA declared its independence on July 4. From there I explained that the 13 stripes on the US flag represent the 13 original states, and that the 50 stars represent the current 50 states. The other PCVs and I then explained where we come from in the USA, pointing out our geographical origins on a map of the USA which one of us PCVs had made. He'd also made a map of Morocco. We had each of the campers come to the front of the room and say where he or she is from, and write his or her name and city on the map. We left the maps taped up to help campers get to know each other and us, and to implicitly reinforce the cross-cultural exchange we had been trying to promote.
In the late afternoon, the kids also participated in activities run by some of the Moroccan staff running the camp. Typically the Moroccan staff ran activities involving song and dance for the kids.
After these late afternoon and early evening activities, we, the PCVs, the kids and the Moroccan staff, ate dinner together. For dinner, first we always ate harira, which is a type of Moroccan soup which contains chickpeas, and sometimes also lentils, among other things. Sometimes after the harira, we ate spaghetti covered with powdered sugar and ground nuts, or meatballs in a red pasta sauce with some bread. On some nights after dinner, we ate yogurt for dessert. On other nights, we ate fruit, such as muskmelon, for dessert.
On the final night of the camp, some of the youths performed in a talent show. Some of them sang or danced. Others acted in a skit, which they performed in Darija.
When the kids were leaving the camp, some of them were crying. I noticed that one girl, who had seemed to be uninterested in English class and other activities, was crying when the time had come to leave. I noted to one of my fellow PCVs that it seemed counterintuitive that she was crying because camp was over, after it hadn't seemed like she had enjoyed the camp. Then it occurred to me that perhaps she was sad because previously she had been unhappy due to a lack of connections and emotional closeness in her life. Perhaps she found such nourishment at the camp, and was sad because she was leaving what she had been craving and had finally found.
While it was a camp, it was located in a city. Taxis run regularly on the street where the camp was held. Hanoots (Darija, or Moroccan Arabic, for "grocery stores") are within a block of where the camp was held. So, the camp was held in an urban area.
The camps are run by the Moroccan Ministry of Youth and Sports. As PCVs (Peace Corps Volunteers) we help to conduct activities at the camps. In addition to me, there were three other PCVs working at the camp: Cassandra, Rachel and Josh. All of them are also Youth Development PCVs. They're all in their first year of their Peace Corps service. We all traveled to this summer camp from the different towns where we live in various parts of Morocco. For the duration of the camp, we slept in our own room, in the same building in which the youths were sleeping.
At Camp, the kids wake up between 7am and 8am. We, the PCVs, the kids and the Moroccan staff, ate breakfast together at the camp a little after 8am. Typically it's tea and coffee, milk, croissants, some bread, either baguettes and/or the usual round, flat Moroccan bread, perhaps accompanied by butter and apricot jam.
For a couple of hours in the morning, the kids attend English class. At this camp, two PCVs taught beginner level English classes. I taught an intermediate level English class. Another PCV taught a more advanced level English class.
Not only did I know that I would be teaching an intermediate level English class, but since three of us PCVs interviewed the campers on the first day of camp to assess their English speaking abilities, I had a sense of what the students in my class both knew, and also found confusing, in the English language. I was entering the classroom aware that I could help by clarifying when to use the simple present verb tense and when to use the present continuous verb tense. So, I was helping them to determine when to say "I swim" and when to say "I am swimming."
While teaching English during this summer camp, I encountered difficulties in teaching which I usually face while teaching here in Morocco. Often there are students who aren't particularly focused on the lesson and who don't seem motivated to learn. During this summer camp, I decided to move such sluggish students so that they were no longer sitting next to each other, but instead were sitting between bright, motivated students. It seemed to help. The previously lethargic and uninterested students started taking more notes and following along more than they had been.
After English class, in the early afternoon, we PCVs, the kids and the Moroccan staff ate lunch together. For lunch, we often ate salad, followed by a tajine, which is somewhat like a Moroccan stew.
After lunch, there was free time. Some of the kids used the time to nap.
In the late afternoon, sometimes we PCVs ran activities for the kids. One day a couple of the other PCVs taught yoga to the kids. On the 4th of July, a couple of the other PCVs made chocolate chip cookies, which were delicious! The kids seemed to enjoy them too. On the 4th of July, I led a discussion with the kids about the 4th of July, why and how US citizens celebrate it as a holiday, and how the USA declared its independence on July 4. From there I explained that the 13 stripes on the US flag represent the 13 original states, and that the 50 stars represent the current 50 states. The other PCVs and I then explained where we come from in the USA, pointing out our geographical origins on a map of the USA which one of us PCVs had made. He'd also made a map of Morocco. We had each of the campers come to the front of the room and say where he or she is from, and write his or her name and city on the map. We left the maps taped up to help campers get to know each other and us, and to implicitly reinforce the cross-cultural exchange we had been trying to promote.
In the late afternoon, the kids also participated in activities run by some of the Moroccan staff running the camp. Typically the Moroccan staff ran activities involving song and dance for the kids.
After these late afternoon and early evening activities, we, the PCVs, the kids and the Moroccan staff, ate dinner together. For dinner, first we always ate harira, which is a type of Moroccan soup which contains chickpeas, and sometimes also lentils, among other things. Sometimes after the harira, we ate spaghetti covered with powdered sugar and ground nuts, or meatballs in a red pasta sauce with some bread. On some nights after dinner, we ate yogurt for dessert. On other nights, we ate fruit, such as muskmelon, for dessert.
On the final night of the camp, some of the youths performed in a talent show. Some of them sang or danced. Others acted in a skit, which they performed in Darija.
When the kids were leaving the camp, some of them were crying. I noticed that one girl, who had seemed to be uninterested in English class and other activities, was crying when the time had come to leave. I noted to one of my fellow PCVs that it seemed counterintuitive that she was crying because camp was over, after it hadn't seemed like she had enjoyed the camp. Then it occurred to me that perhaps she was sad because previously she had been unhappy due to a lack of connections and emotional closeness in her life. Perhaps she found such nourishment at the camp, and was sad because she was leaving what she had been craving and had finally found.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
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.
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.
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