The Urgency Of Dinner

In the town in the Sahara where I'll be living for the two years of my Peace Corps service.  In my bedroom with the door closed. 

I heard a knock on the door.  I turned the handle.  The door wouldn't open.  I turned the key; no luck. 

I heard, in Darija, that is, in Moroccan Arabic, "Etini saroot," meaning "Give me the key."  I slipped it under the door.  Someone tried the key, then shook the door, then repeatedly pounded on it. 

The next thing I knew, shards of wood flew at me as the door burst open.  My host mother entered with my dinner.  Now I love to eat, but they didn't have to break through the door to feed me right away.

This is. My life. Right now.

We started teaching English classes at the Dar Chebab (Darija for "youth center") here in town last week. I've been enjoying it. It feels great to be sharing with Moroccans. I say Moroccans, and not Moroccan youth, because although the vast majority of the people we teach are youths aged 6 to 18, anyone can come to the Dar Chebab for English lessons. Some of the kids have already started learning English in school, whereas others don't know any English when they come to the Dar Chebab. So, I've taught lessons on counting in English, as well as on the passive voice.

So this is my life right now. It feels good, and I'm glad that I'm here helping people right now. I'm trying to focus on right now. At some point in the last few weeks, I was feeling a bit overwhelmed by the prospect of living here, in a new and foreign land, where I don't know many people, for the next two years. I was feeling challenged by the reality that I'm only going to see family and friends back in the USA a few times over the next couple of years. Then I began to apply myself simply to today, the day in which I am living at any particular moment. Suddenly my life in the Peace Corps became not only much more manageable, but also much more enjoyable.

And by not worrying about tomorrow, I'm also integrating into Moroccan society. Moroccans are more concerned with building a relationship with someone than they are with timetables. So, in effect, by relaxing, and not worrying about tomorrow, I'm implicitly embracing, and learning about Moroccan culture. Now viewing and approaching my own life differently, less concerned about time than I was before I came here, with the insight I am gaining while living in Morocco, I better understand Moroccans, one of the reasons I came here. By not worrying about time, much as Moroccans are unconcerned with it, I FEEL a different approach to life. Since I am being transformed, I will more easily help citizens of the USA understand Moroccans, one of the reasons why the Peace Corps sent me and other Peace Corps trainees here to Morocco.

Foibles In Food Preparation

This morning I was helping cook a very delicious lunch with Liz, Tory, Katy and Margo, who are the other PCTs (Peace Corps Trainees) in the town where we've been training during PST (Pre-Service Training).  My friend, that is, my fellow PCT, handed me peeled garlic.  I placed a piece of garlic on the plate.  I put the knife on top of the garlic, parallel with the table.  Next I wanted to crush the garlic under the knife.  I slammed my fist down on the side of the knife, and that piece of garlic flew out the window.

Who's The Crazy One Here?

A couple of days ago, I explained to a petit taxi driver in Fes that "Daffy Duck" was the name of the stuffed animal hanging from his rear view mirror.  Actually, at first, it seemed that the chap didn't even realize that I was pointing to the looney tune.  He was looking in the other direction, out his driver's side window.  I had to redirect him to the rear view mirror.  Then, at first, I asked him in Darija, that is, in Moroccan Arabic, "Shnoo smeetoo?" meaning "What's his name?"  He looked quite confused.  Then I said, "En francais, il s'appelle 'le canard fou.'  En anglais, il s'appelle 'Daffy Duck.'"  

Then it occurred to me that this fellow probably had never seen our fearless cartoon character in action.  Then it also occurred to me that Moroccan taxi drivers probably don't name stuffed animals hanging in their taxis.  So, then I thought, "This guy is probably thinking, 'That duck isn't crazy; you are!'"

Then I quickly explained, "Ce canard est dans les bandes dessinees aux Etats-Unis!"  Once I had explained that Daffy is in cartoons, the cab driver said, "Ah, oui!  Les bandes dessinees!"

A Little More About PST (Pre-Service Training)

It recently occurred to me that there are probably gaps in what many of you know about my experience thus far here in Morocco. So, I figured that I should write a new blog entry.

First, keep in mind that I am not yet a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV). I am still a Peace Corps Trainee (PCT). After a few days of initial training with all of the other Youth Development (YD) and also the Small Business Development (SBD) PCTs, I and the other YD PCTs headed to Fes, while the SBD PCTs headed to a different place. Then we split into groups of five and six and headed to our small Community-Based Training (CBT) sites, where we have been spending most of our time. Every couple of weeks, we leave our smaller CBT sites and all of us YD PCTs meet for a couple of days of training together, then head back to our local CBT sites.

At our CBT sites, Monday to Friday, we spend a few hours each morning learning Darija, or Moroccan Arabic. Saturdays, we only meet in the morning to learn more Darija. Each day that we meet, we eat lunch together, after sometimes going out and buying our food at the weekly souq, or farmer's market, which is in our town. After lunch, sometimes our LCF (Language and Culture Facilitator, which is Peace Corps' name for our teacher) gives us a lesson about Moroccan culture. In the afternoons, we also go out and meet members of the community, including at the town's Dar Chebab, or Youth Center. During these interactions, we have tried to assess the state of youth in our community, what resources they have available, what they could use, and how they spend their time. By trying to find these answers, we hope to be better able to help the youth in our communities. Also, by gathering this information, and practicing this approach of gathering information, we hope to be better prepared to learn about our communities at our final sites.

That is, once we finish the nine weeks of training next month, we will leave our CBT sites and head to our final sites, where we will live over the next two years. At the end of this month, we will find out where in Morocco our final sites will be.

Actually, by the end of PST, a PCT has to pass tests, including on safety and security in Morocco, and on Peace Corps procedures and policies, as well as an LPI (Language Proficiency Interview). If a PCT passes all of these tests, then a PCT is sworn in as a PCV. We current PCTs here in Morocco will be sworn in as PCVs in mid-November.

In the meantime, our focus in the afternoon has been shifting somewhat, such that for part of the afternoons, we are learning about teaching English classes to youths. When we arrive at our final sites, we will begin by teaching English to youths. Later, we may also begin working on involving youth in a broader range of extracurricular activities, which may involve teaching English within the context of those extracurricular activities, which may be civics or geography lessons, sports, theatre, health or environmental education, or other activities.

When we arrive at our final sites, we will again be living with host families, as we have been doing during training. Then, soon after arriving at our final sites, we will likely find our own housing. It surely will be even more of an adventure when we head to our final sites!

After A Couple Of Weeks

So I've been in Morocco for a couple of weeks now. The first week, it was hitting me pretty hard being here in light of having left everyone I knew before entering the Peace Corps. By the end of the second week here, I was less in withdrawal. The whole time I've been here, though, I've been glad to be here, to be doing what I've wanted to do for so long, being in the Peace Corps.

It feels right. So much so that I somehow don't feel all that much like I'm in a foreign country. Sure, I notice what's different from the US. I've been following cultural norms, like eating with the right hand, wearing long pants in public, even when it's humid, and speaking Darija, or Moroccan Arabic, even if just a little at this early stage.

I think that I feel as comfortable as I do here because I'm doing what I've wanted to do for so long. But I also think that a big part of it is that people are very welcoming here. I feel like I am developing a friendship with my host brother who is hosting me in his house. A worker at the cafe very near home is very welcoming. I thanked him in French for being so welcoming. He responded, "J'aime que tu soies ici," or "I like that you are here." He then taught me a somewhat complicated handshake, which I appreciated.

I came here hoping to form these kinds of connections, and I'm glad to be developing relationships like these. I feel strengthened by them. And in becoming closer to Moroccans, I feel validated in my decision to enter the Peace Corps, as beginning confirmation of part of why I chose to go into the Peace Corps. I'm looking forward to what else can develop over the next two years.

Feared Evacuation From Morocco

Text message sent to a fellow PCT (Peace Corps Trainee) during PST (Pre-Service Training):

I was already awake at 3:30 today when I heard a rooster which sounded like it was being brutally tortured. Or sounded like it was frantically urging me to get up.  Milliseconds later, I heard what sounded like a small convoy of trucks roll up nearby.  I half expected Peace Corps staff to burst into my bedroom and tell me to grab a bag because we were being evacuated.  Alas, it was just another morning in small town Morocco.  

Staging, Arrival, and The First Few Days

My first post from Morocco!

To take things in order:

The day I left the USA, my folks graciously drove me to the airport at 3:45 am. Towards the end of my first flight, there was low visibility at Washington Dulles, so we couldn't land right away, then didn't have enough gas to keep circling. So we landed in Harrisburg, Penn., refueled, and went to Dulles. By then I had missed my connection to Philadelphia. I got on the next flight.

Arriving in Philadelphia, I made it to the hotel, where I found that I had missed the first session at Staging, or the within-the-USA orientation. At Staging, the Peace Corps was telling us what to expect. As soon-to-be Peace Corps Trainees, we were also discussing what we were expecting. It was great to finally start meeting other Peace Corps Trainees.

I had a brief freakout toward the end of Staging, thinking about how I'm moving to a place where I don't know anyone. And I was thinking about only knowing minimal Arabic. Soon after that, at dinner with other Peace Corps Trainees, I was feeling camaraderie with them, and I felt much better. I reminded myself that I'm not in this alone. Have to remember to call upon others for help and support.

The next day, we boarded a couple of buses to JFK. That night, we flew non-stop to Casablanca. The customs officials in Casablanca were the nicest I've ever encountered. Maybe it was because we're in the Peace Corps.

Then we boarded a couple of buses and headed for our initial training site on the coast. On the bus, we met the Peace Corps Director for Morocco. The Peace Corps Director for Morocco is impressive in how familiar he is with who we are. He remembered so much about us from what he had read about us.

Arriving at our first training site, staff went over some basic paperwork and guidelines with us. When we were done, that humid first day, I loved taking a dip in the ocean. It was just slightly cool. Small waves, so even body surfing was a bit of a stretch. Nevertheless, the ocean was delightful.

We've been learning some basic Moroccan Arabic. I was glad I had spent time learning some basic Moroccan Arabic before arriving in Morocco.

This week, the US Ambassador to Morocco visited us, and spoke with us. I appreciated him pointing out the distinctions between what he does and what we do.

We've also had some sessions on health, safety and security, as well as on adapting to the culture. And we've gotten some shots, too.

Everyone here, including staff, and other Peace Corps Trainees, has been great and friendly and encouraging. It feels great knowing that I'm supported, and that I am supporting others on this path.

A foreshadowing of emotional ups and downs to come...

Since my last blog entry, I’ve felt like I’ve had emotional ups and downs connected with going into the Peace Corps. I've thought that, in a way, it has foreshadowed how I’m going to be on an emotional roller coaster during my service as a Peace Corps Volunteer.

To give a full recap since my last blog entry, I had my last day at my now previous job on July 7. When I left my job, I stopped working with a lot of wonderful people. I also stopped doing work which I felt it was time for me to leave behind. But my last day at work was also another reminder of how much time it takes to wrap things up. That day, I was at work late sifting through things, figuring out what to keep, what to discard, what to leave behind. So, if you're a future Peace Corps Volunteer reading this blog entry, I suggest that you start sorting through your belongings long before you need to do so.

After my last day at work, it took me a while to move out of my apartment. Even though I had started sorting through my papers and property months earlier, I still wasn't ready to move out the day after my last day at work, which had been my original plan. And, even with all of the extensive and generous help of my friend Darcie, helping me pack and clean and move, I still wasn't ready to leave San Francisco until several days after July 8. So, again, if you're planning on going into the Peace Corps, I recommend starting to sift through your things far in advance.

On July 13, I left San Francisco. In the early morning, before morning rush hour, I drove my car over the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge, packed to the hilt with many of my possessions. Then, heading east on Interstate 580, I drove over the crest of the Altamont Pass, which I consider one of the outer edges of the San Francisco Bay Area. Near the area of the pass, I lost the transmissions of Bay Area radio stations. So, at that point, I put on some music of my own, choosing to listen to the band Coldplay. Once I reached the bottom of the far side of the pass, I entered the Central Valley of California, having left the San Francisco Bay Area behind. At that point, I was listening to Chris Martin sing the song entitled “What If,” about making life choices which lead certain people to not be next to you. And then I lost it. I started sobbing. More than that. As I was sobbing, I was literally gasping for air. I had left so much behind in the San Francisco Bay Area: people who love me, including friends from college, friends I made on political campaigns, friends I made through other friends, friends where I had just stopped working, friends I made at church; so much else which had become familiar, and thus comforting, to me, including neighborhoods, parks, and all the many other amazing offerings and opportunities which San Francisco, the Bay Area, and California have to offer. And, I didn’t know when I would be back, if ever, since who knows what the future holds.

And then Chris Martin started singing about choices you make in your life, and whether they’re mistakes. And then he sang the encouragement to take the leap. To be bold, and courageous, and jump into what lies there waiting for you. And that helped me transform my deep sorrow, over having left so much behind, into renewed commitment to make the change of entering the Peace Corps.

As I drove across the country toward the east coast, I got used to the idea that I would no longer be living in California. During my cross-country road trip, I also got more used to the idea that I will be going away.

Toward the end of my three-and-a-half week long road trip, I coincidentally drove through towns and areas where I spent a lot of time when I was growing up. When I was a high school student, I was a member of an improvisational theatre troupe, in which I had helped write and act in short plays addressing social issues affecting teens, including drug abuse, HIV and teen pregnancy. Years later, when I was on my cross-country road trip last month, as I was driving through certain towns, I remembered how I had performed in those plays in those particular towns with my high school peers. Driving through those towns, I thought of how I had told the Peace Corps of that theatre experience, since it could be relevant to my job as a Youth Developer in the Peace Corps. Then I thought that I started gaining experience relevant to my upcoming position in the Peace Corps back when I was in high school. And that made me think that I have made a wise decision to go into the Peace Corps, because long ago I started gaining experience relevant to serving in the Peace Corps.

And then, not too long after that, it became a little more real and unavoidable. As I finished my road trip and since I've started spending time with family members, it has hit me, in a more urgent and thus undeniable way, that I'm going to move outside the country. Don't get me wrong; I'm not reconsidering my decision. I know for certain that I'm going into the Peace Corps. I'm just starting to realize in a more immediate, and inescapable, way, that my life is going to change in some major ways. Ways which I had previously realized, but now it's just hitting me more, and it’s being brought to my attention more.

And then, with a little more time, I have begun to feel that, yes, I’ll be leaving everyone I know, but that I’m OK with that. On the flip side of being deprived of the company of, and frequent communication with, so many people I now know and love, I’ll be welcoming so many new people and experiences into my life, and my life will be forever transformed. In ways that it would not be shaped if I had not made the very recent and major changes that I’ve made.

So, it was with great gratitude for the love of many wonderful people I now know, as well as with confidence that I’m making the right decision, and that all will be well, that I recently celebrated with my extended family. Less than a week ago, my dad threw a fantastic celebratory going away dinner for me, mostly with our extended family, and also with some friends. It was wonderful to see so many loving and caring people, who are all so supportive of me entering the Peace Corps. In a way, I think that the “bon voyage” send-off message I received this past weekend will be mirrored by the “bienvenue” greeting I will receive when I arrive in Morocco. Both characterized by genuine love, support and encouragement. Which is why, in the end, I’m not all that worried about going into the Peace Corps: because there’s love where I’m leaving, as well as where I’m going.