Dancing in the living room

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Peace Corps Goals

I wanted to tell you all about the Peace Corps mission and goals so you can all be on the same page about what my role is here in Morocco.

Mission: To promote world peace and friendship.

Three goals of Peace Corps:
1. To help the people of other countries in meeting their needs for trained personnel.
2. To help Moroccans better understand American people, customs, and culture.
3. To help other Americans better understand Moroccan people, customs, and culture.

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More about site

So when I wrote that last entry I completely forgot to mention the part where Amina, youth development programming assistant, brought out a small duffle bag. She joked and said that there are sites written on pieces of paper in there and that we would draw for them. But when she unzipped it everyone went into a frenzy. She started throwing bags of fun size Snickers, Twix, and gummy bears at us. One actually hit me straight in the head, but it was worth it. We all screamed like it was Christmas morning. Amina is one of the most kind hearted and sweet women I have met here so far. Every time you see her she most likely has candy for you and anything you have to say she will understand. The other part of the “A-Team” as we call them is a man named Abdelghani. (Say it with me Ab-del-gan-ee). The two of them are a riot together. They are the ones responsible for developing the sites we go to and placing us in them. They are really like our first supervisors and if we have any troubles with our work we go to them.
So like I said before this is a new Peace Corps site. I will have a lot of challenges being the first one there. I know very, very little about this site so I am going in almost blind. There was a time when this would have scared me. But since joining Peace Corps I have quickly learned to deal with and even embrace the unknown. Almost everything with Peace Corps is unknown until you actually have the experience. So in these last two weeks of training I could be losing sleep and driving myself crazy with so many “what ifs” but I know it will do no good. I want to enjoy my last couple of weeks in Lakbab, with my friends and my host family. And there will be no way to answer my questions until I arrive in my site. Everything here is subjective. Meaning everyone has their own opinion about everything and everything is what you make it. I have perfected my skill of living in the moment here and “we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it” is a phrase I frequently use. Honestly at this point I am so excited to explore the potential of my site, my new situation, and the potential that is within myself.

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Site Placement

So it was a big day for everyone! We got our final site placements today. Everyone was so excited and anxious to hear where they would be placed. Our programming staff slowly handed out envelopes to everyone in the room. They told everyone to wait until all had been handed out to open them. I was the last to get mine so I was freaking out that they had forgotten mine! But on the count of three we all tore into our envelopes. It was really anti-climatic because not many of us even recognized any of the city names. But then the pulled out the map and we all ran to it to look where all the pins were stuck. Seeing where the pins were in relation to others really helped put everything in perspective. I will be living and working for the next two years in El Gara, Morocco! You will find El Gara about 50 km east of Casablanca. It is also really close to Rabat, Morocco’s capitol. I have a few people near me. One married couple, Chris and Jolie, are about 20 minutes from me and Alli is probably 30 minutes. I am not near any of my friends in the Small Business Development sector which makes me sad. We have 2 weeks of pre-service training left then on November 9th we will go back to Mehdia, where we first started for some more group training. On November 12th we will travel to Rabat for our swearing in ceremony and a night in the capitol! The following morning we will all split up and go to our final sites. At this point we will be little birds leaving the nest and can hopefully survive.

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Kla-to eat

By joining the Peace Corps in Morocco I agreed to live like the average member of my community in which I am placed in. Peace Corps generally only serves in low income communities. Which this means I live a low income life. This being said I have never gone hungry. I can tell my family does not have a money tree growing in their backyard, but our table is never shy for food. Malika must always be assured that I have had enough to eat and that I am full.
In my house my family eats in front of the t.v. (same and I do at home in the US J ) We eat at a small, short, round table while sitting on pillows on the ground. Typically for breakfast Moroccans eat bread, with maybe some cheese and/or jam spread on. Lunch, typically served at 1pm, is the big meal of the day. It usually includes a tajine. A tajine is a type of “pot” if you will, that you cook food in on the stove. Usually the contents of a tajine are called “tajine” as well. In a tajine there is usually a type of meat, like beef or chicken, and cooked vegetables, like carrots, potatoes, and green beans. Silverware is not use on every occasion. Bread is a part of every single meal. Bread becomes silverware. To get at the food in the tajine you break off pieces of bread and use it to scoop it up. The food in the tajine is communal. You must respect your “triangle.” That is the food that is in the dish directly in front of you. And if you are wondering about eating with your left hand allow me to clear up your confusion. In Islam the right hand is the hand that is used for shaking hands, offering money, or food. The left hand is used for “personal business.” Meaning it is the one you clean yourself with after using the restroom. You see where this is going.
The meat is usually buried at the bottom of the vegetables. This is a signal that you eat it last. When it is time to eat the meat someone, usually mom, will break it up into portions for everyone. Then the meat is eaten with your fingers and you don’t have a plate. As an American this practice seems somewhat rude and sometimes even gross but hey “when in Rome” right? After the main meal we usually have some fruit for dessert. Apples, grapes, and melon are quite common. Dinner is a small meal, and is saved until 8pm or after. Sometimes the leftovers from lunch are fashioned into something new for dinner. For me it’s usually a nice snack to have before bed to assure I am not hungry in the night or starving in the morning. All these things are typical of my family but generally speaking they are true to many other families. Feeding those who are hungry is something that Moroccans do gladly. If I am visiting a friends house around dinnertime I am always invited to join, even if I didn’t give notice or it’s last minute. I have found that even strangers will invite you into their homes to eat with them with pleasure.

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My First Moroccan Party

This is the story my first real Moroccan party. I didn’t know what was going on from the beginning and the picture just got less and less clear as the night went on. However, I found myself always wondering what was coming next just like a kid on Christmas morning.

I was invited to go to a party at a one of my neighbors houses. Malika dressed me in one of her dresses and we got all dolled up to go. This house was big and beautiful. We first went into a sitting room full of only women where we ate tiny cookies and drank tea. We stayed there for about and hour and a half and I was wondering when we were going to leave because I was already so tired. But at about 9:30 some women began serving lots and lots of delicious food. First a gigantic plate of chicken came out for each table. We ate chicken and bread and drank Coke, and by that time I was completely full. THEN a gigantic plate of beef topped with prunes came out for each table. I should have expected this, but I was still shocked. After dinner was finished Malika took me upstairs and we went into the bedroom of one of the daughters in the house. I saw a girl with pale makeup on, a pretty updo, and a shiny green dress. At this moment I was convinced I was at a wedding. (I will just say now that I found out the next day that this was indeed just an engagement party.-not yet a wedding.) This beautiful girl and her sisters were chatting and primping and I got to be a part of it. The bride-to -be was such a sweet girl and kept calling me beautiful, when I kept repeating the same to her. Finally we moved into the upstairs sitting room which was bigger and more beautiful. We sat and socialized for a while then the bride and groom-to-be came into the room hand in hand while all the women chanted and made some crazy cool sounds. They sat down at the head of the room where people preceded to take many pictures of them. At this time the groom presented the bride with her gifts of jewelry, which is customary of all Moroccan arranged marriages. Basically the groom buys the bride with jewelry.
Even though the bride-to-be was in her own home with her own family she was still very quiet and shy. She was so sweet, excited, and talkative in her room among her sisters and friends. I could tell she was probably nervous and scared as she is only 19 years old and her groom is probably at least several years older than her. The groom seemed like a very nice and charming man from what I could understand. The tables were full with more cookies, candies and cups of tea. The bride and groom-to-be fed each other dates as some kind of ritual that I could compare to a newlywed couple shoving wedding cake in one another’s mouths. Then everyone in the room got a small glass of milk and the couple fed each other milk just like they did with the dates.
The couple left the room apparently to change into other clothes, for what I don’t know why. While they were gone some of the younger girls started dancing, including myself. We tied scarves around our hips to give our bodies some shape in a shapeless dress. A good portion of the people in my town are Berbers so the women were singing traditional Berber wedding songs. It was really cool, the energy was high and everyone was having fun. Some women were playing a small hand drum and calling out chants in order to get a response. We were dancing Moroccan style which involved a lot of hip shaking and flowing arm movements. I hope I was good at it, I could tell most of the women liked me. I was glad to make a good impression on them without having to speak.
The couple came back in with different clothes on and I’m not sure why they changed or what they represent. We danced some more and I enjoyed hanging out with the bride-to-be’s 3 younger sisters, who are all very sweet. When we were in her room the bride spoke to me a little bit in English so I already felt we had a little bond. At certain times in the night I caught eye contact with her and tried to give her a supportive and reassuring smile to try to help her get though this night. At times just wanted to hold her hand and tell her that everything would be ok.
We did not leave until 2:30am and I had to get up in 4 hours. I will say I was tired the following day but it was incredibly worth it in order to be a part of a family celebration in Morocco.

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What do I do here?

I got the question of “what will you be doing exactly” a lot before I left the US. I still get it now. Up until this point I truly couldn’t give a very detailed answer because, in Peace Corps a lot of things are uncertain. However, after spending just over a month in country I feel I am getting a better handle on how the next two years of my life are going to play out. I would like to take the time to answer the most common question for all of you now.

So as you already know I am a youth development volunteer. Meaning my main role in this sector is to implement programs that will advance the youth of this country. In the case of Morocco the term youth describes individuals up to the age of 25, usually all those who are not yet married. The way I will do this is through English classes mostly. However I have the freedom to implement programs that I feel can help my specific community. My focus is to provide programs that are in the best interest in the community, not my own. When I get to my final site I will have to begin work to identify just what it is the youth of that community wants to learn. But at this point I have a few ideas of my own, that I would like to bounce off them when I get there. I would like to teach a Pilates or ballet class to women and girls. Create a mentor match program which will essentially match youth with adults that have similar interests so they can receive guidance in that subject. For example match a teenager who dreams of opening a shop with a current shop owner. Create a girls empowerment club to empower the girls of the community. Start an essay writing contest. Create a health club to teach youth about healthy eating and the importance of exercise. I will be doing most of these activities in a local dar chebab (house of youth). But dar chebabs are sometimes a sore subject to some families. Dar chebabs are a place where young people, both boys and girls, freely mix. Since dating is forbidden in Islam some families forbid their children to go to them. Young boys and girls are not permitted to mix in the eyes of some here. Also the dar chebab has its slow times and its busy times. Seeing as it is a place that kids go in their free time it’s schedule revolves around the school schedule. Kids wont come when they are busy at school. I have been told that my busy months will be January though May. This is the time when I will be implementing these wonderful programs that I have dreamt up. During the summer most dar chebabs are closed because families leave town to travel. Some volunteers use summer months for travel. However also during this time the Moroccan Ministry (like the president’s cabinet in America) funds summer camps for deserving kids. These camps usually focus on English learning with also some fun things involved. At this time I will travel to some pretty cool locations (usually on the coast) to work in a summer camp. They there are 12 two week sessions from July to September. I will be able to choose the weeks that I have available to work. Now during September through January I will probably experience a dry season. During this time I could do some things for myself as well as plan my project for the busy season.

Those are just the ideas that I have for now. I am excited to start to get them underway. Development is a very slow process. When I get to my final site my first step will be to integrate myself into that community. Develop relationships with people that can help me develop these programs and build a positive reputation for myself. The thing is what I am ultimately trying to do is create sustainable development. That means that I don’t exactly want to create programs that are totally dependent on me being here, because I am not going to be here forever. If I do my job correctly I will leave my community with the tools to continue the programs I have started. So I will also have to focus on transferring my skills to a person who is capable of continuing them when I am gone.

Even though I am here for the people of Morocco there are a few things I want to do for myself in my time here. I see living in Morocco as a huge source of inspiration for writing. Both creatively and informatively. Seeing as I studied journalism in college this is a priority for me. This blog is one thing that I am doing to keep my writing skills up to do date. I have approached the editor of The Jackson Citizen Patriot (my local newspaper) asking for any kind of space in print or online for me to write about my experience here. I specifically asked if it would be possible for me to do a guest column now and again, just for me to get some published work to help me in my future journalism career. I have already approached the leader of the VSN (Volunteer Support Network) to become a member when I begin my service. Members of the VSN are trained in active listening stills to become a person that volunteers and trainees can go to when they need support. They are essentially peer mentors. I think getting experience in this area would feed my skills as a reporter and help other volunteers at the same time. I have also approached the leader of PeaceWorks, a publication complied for and by volunteers. I would absolutely adore even more experience to use and perfect my writing and reporting skills. I have a few ideas for photojournalistic projects here too.

Aside from journalistic goals, I would also like to learn some French (on top of Moroccan Arabic) while I am here. I can see myself studying it on my own time as well as taking classes if I can find them. I want to do this because I see some time in France in my future after Peace Corps.

As for travel, I have goals but I think they are attainable. My cousin Anna is currently studying in Paris and I hope to visit her there before she leaves next June. I already have planned and look forward to my visit back to the US in July of next year. It will be the wedding of my best friend Kahley. I can’t wait to be a bridesmaid as well as see all my family and friends after 10 months apart. I also have hopes to get up to London to see my friend Davin and experience England. I think over 2 years these travel goals are attainable. These three right now are my only “must dos” as far as travel. I know I will be able to travel after my service is over in November 2011, so I will keep that in mind.

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A step foward with Darija

Today which is a Sunday I feel I took one step forward with my learning of Darija (Moroccan Arabic). Sunday’s are like gold to me. After I get over the sadness of not being able to watch Sunday Morning with dad on CBS I try my best to get to work. Sunday is a full day off and it is so useful to have a review session on what we have learned thus far. On this particular Sunday I slept til 9 then had breakfast with my family. Then I got on my computer and worked on a poem for myself after which I gave in to my desire to go back to sleep. I slept for about another hour then got down to business. I hooked up speakers to my computer and put on my own music in order to drown out the Moroccan music playing from the t.v. in the next room. I made a list of the material I feel I need to cover then I buried my nose in my book. Today for instance I have gone over telling time, buying things at a store, how to get a taxi, and how to make verbs past and present tense. After 4 weeks of daily language classes I feel I have a firm handle on most of the concepts we have covered. On paper everything makes sense. I am reminded now of my days in my high school German class were we would work for a half hour to put together a paragraph that a 2nd grader could write. But when we were done we were so proud of our work. The same is happening in Darija. I am able to express myself in the past and present tense-on paper at least. J When it comes time to come up with these things in real conversations, it’s not so easy. However, if this is as far as I can come in 4 weeks under this amount of stress I am happy.

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The Many Faces

Look life in its face.
Receive it’s rigidness but pursue it gentility
Take what looks back at you for what it is.
Face the present.
Face the silence when no words can be found.
Face volume when the unspoken messages shout.
Face the future.
Not as an ocean of unknowns but a possession to hold and protect.
Face the hope of betterment
Face defeat
Take comfort in its exposure of humanity.
Enjoy the relief that is lack of perfection.
Break down only to be reconstructed by unknown elements.
Use courage to face desires, to entertain them.
Face life that is not just motions, but gripping to the spirit.
Face what you are.
Face what you are not.
Face the hours.
For the hours are where we live.
To look life in the face.
To know at last, what it is.

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Doing Laundry

Last night was my first experience doing my laundry on my own. I was truly missing the modern convenience of the washing machine right about then. My family has a washing machine, but I don’t think it’s exactly what I am used to. I didn’t have a big enough load to use it and I had heard that even when using the washing machine the process is still long. So I returned home from a trip to the hub and got right down to business. I indicated to Malika that I wanted to do laundry by rubbing my hands on my shirt as if I were washing it. She got the picture. She helped me fill up two buckets with cold water and put powder detergent in one of them. I gathered about 15 pieces of clothes that were in need of a wash and she gave me a quick tutorial using hand motions and language that went in one ear and out the other. What I love about her is that she doesn’t try to baby me. If I want something I have to do it myself. She is helping me to continue my independence. I submerged my clothes in the soapy water bucket and used my little shoe brush to try to scrub them clean. I probably didn’t do very well but the soapy water itself helped to remove dirt. I was only at this for about 10 minutes and my back was in knots. Sitting on a tiny stool hunched over a bucket of clothes isn’t my idea of fun. After I thought they were clean enough I put them in the bucket of clear water to rinse. Then I used the multifunctional Turkish toilet to wring out all the water. I used another dry bucket as a laundry basket to take my clothes to the roof to hang them out to dry. I felt like a colonial woman. Certain things in this experience feel like fantasy to me. Last night I was able to live out my fantasy of being a woman who lived in a time where the washing machine was not even and idea in anyone’s mind. However this is the reality of the women here in Morocco. I definably have a new definition now of what is dirty and clean. Seeing as this is how I have to do my laundry I am very selective of what I have to go through this for. Delicates and socks are clearly top priority. But pants and shirts can be worn for a very long time before hitting the soap. Furthermore, hand washing and air drying is not kind to clothes so if I want to keep them in as best condition as possible I must baby them.

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Malika

Malika, my host mother- and angel. I had asked someone how much Peace Corps staff actually takes someone’s personality into account when placing them in a host family. My answer was “not much.” So this led me to believe that I was truly placed in this family by God’s will. Someone up there was looking out for me. The reason I say this is because my host family is perfect for me. Malika, my mother, has such a similar personality to mine, so I feel entirely comfortable with her. She is funny, playful, loving, compassionate, understanding, and she gives me my own freedom and independence. She hugs and kisses me several times daily, which I needed more than I thought seeing as I am away from my real mother for so long. She calls me “habiba” which means girlfriend. I’m her girl. She has one 11-year-old son named Taha, who is so sweet and funny. They have an adorable relationship because it is just the two of them. Malika’s father lives with us too, but I rarely see him outside of dinnertime. I come from a home that is for the most part quiet. And that’s what I walked into here in Morocco. It is normally very calm and soothing, (aside from the entirely annoying clock that plays a song and chimes for every hour of the day!) I have my own room with a couch, table, and full bed. When I am in my room with my door closed my family respects that. Since my alone time is so valuable and necessary to my sanity I appreciate this more than anything. I also appreciate Malika’s cooking seeing as it is fabulous. “Makla Bnina” is a phrase I use often because it means “delicious food.” But Malika always accepts the fact that I am full and I don’t want any more food. Malika and I can always joke and laugh with each other even though we can only verbally communicate 10% of the time. Most of our communication comes from charades and hand gestures. We both have become pretty good actors.
After about 3 weeks now with my family I think I am as comfortable as I will ever be with them. Which is good because I am very comfortable. Just now I was sitting on the living room floor with Malika, Taha, and a neighbor girl going over words in English and Arabic. Then Malika invited me into her bed to watch a little t.v. with her. I feel so honored that they love me so much and they barely know me at all. It makes me happy to know that my personality can shine though even without words.

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It's weird getting what you want so bad

Disclaimer: Entries like this are exactly the reason I didn’t want to have a blog. I didn’t want to bore my readers with story after story that comes from the pit of my heart. However on the flip side, I want you all to be with me. I want you to feel what I feel, see what I see, so we can have this experience together. I have so many feelings inside of me that I am dying to let out, and I can’t express myself fully to very many people here.

For most of my life I have always been a dreamer. I have been the type that believes, in theory, that dreams come true. As much of a dreamer as I am, I am also realistic. So I have always put a realistic spin on dreaming, if you will.
Being accepted to the Peace Corps is the very first thing in my life that I have worked for and gotten. Yes I know I worked hard through college to earn a degree, but graduating college didn’t feel like achieving a dream to me. It just felt like something that was already decided for me. I didn’t feel like I had a choice in getting a college degree, it was just something I had to do. But for the past three years I thought about Peace Corps almost daily. I tailored my life to achieving this dream. I fantasized about what my life could be like if I were a Peace Corps volunteer.
But it’s weird now having achieved my dream and I’m just not as happy as I feel I should be. Thinking about doing Peace Corps from the warmth and comfort of my bedroom in the USA felt so romantic. I can envision that talking about my Peace Corps experience after it is complete will be just as romantic. It’s just the time in between that is not so romantic. I’m not trying to say that being surrounded by landscape that looks like a painting and being able to watch children laugh and play in the streets is not wonderful. It’s just I am tested every on every level everyday. I come from a place where I am educated, respected, loved, and appreciated. Here my education means nothing. I speak as if I am 2 year old, and I can’t express myself farther than “I’m tired” or “I’m hungry”.
But achieving my Peace Corps dream has really taught me something great. Something that I never knew for sure until now. It has taught me that it is possible to get what you work for and dreams really do come true. I know it sounds pretty “Disney” but you don’t realize this fact until you actually get something that you want with all your heart and soul. Now I know that the rest of my dreams are possible and that once one dream is realized another is born.
I hope the phrase “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” holds true to me in this experience. I know now that anything I may face in my future will seem so much easier after getting though the challenges that I will get though here in Morocco. I understand fully the value of this experience and I look forward to seeing the person it shapes me into.

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My public bath experience

I just don't feel that is right that I don't share my public bath experience, since it is so specific to this culture and we really have no concept of it in the USA. Basically you pay for hot water and space. And to go to a place where there are many women sitting around in only underwear. I went with my host mother, Malika, and she knew exactly what she was doing. You take all your own products and buckets to pour water with. You enter the first room and remove your clothes and place them in a cubby hole. Next you walk into a room which is sort of hot, then you want into another room that is really hot. Think the steam room at the Y. You fill your buckets with water from the hot and cold fountains. Then you get yourself set up on a spot on a bench along the wall. Now you begin the long process of soaping yourself, scrubing yourself, and washing your hair which in theory should take multiple hours. I was there for about 20 minuntes and had already washed my body, washed my hair, and rinsed out my conditioner, when my mother was barely getting started. It's not something that I can see myself going to weekly, but I definatly can see it's value in the winter when I will probably never be warm.

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Kids are kids in Morocco

This is a video of my neighbor kids playing outside. The boy in the orange sleeves is my brother, Taha.

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What I miss right now

-Jogging on the Abbott Road path
-Curling up with Ellery in the chair in the Shawver’s living room
-Sitting on my front porch
-Watching Noah do all his tricks
-My bathroom at my apartment
-Watching Mythbusters with dad on the couch
-Watching reality t.v. with mom in her room
-Gossiping about celebs with Dawn
-The 30 minute drive between East Lansing and Jackson
-Going to Old Town Lansing

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Broken heart in October

Thursday marked the start of my favorite month. However, I have quickly found out that October is only my favorite month if I am in America. I feel like my heart is broken because I can not smell the dried leaves in the air and I can not feel the comforting chill of the fall season. I will be missing the repeating horror films on all cable channels that I look forward to watching all year. I will be sad not to see all the spooky decorations that slowly build up on houses. If I could, I would be going to the Michigan Theater only to scream my head off when someone jumps from behind a curtain. I would give anything to be walking through Halloween USA looking at the selection of things to turn you into something else for one night. I will be missing out on the annual trip that mom and I take to Ella Sharp Park for the fall festival. This event is quite often disappointing but I remain optimistic every year. I love walking thorough the park, touring Ella’s house, and eating lunch at the Grainery. If I am feeling brave enough I would join the kids and paint a pumpkin. For those of you who are able to do these things please do them and send a little thought my way.

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My Fight Responce

Just earlier this evening Donneill, Yorda, and I were walking back to our hotel from shopping after dark in Azrou, which is a pretty large city. Out of nowhere a man grabbed Yorda's arm and attempted to pull her away from us. The funny thing is this was Brenden, another member of our training group. He was just messing around but both Yorda and I didn't know it was him until after we looked closer. The whole thing happend in about a half a second but in that half second I put myself between this "mystery person" and Yorda. I sheilded Yorda from this person who I thought was trying to harm her. Even though it scared us and we wern't exactly happy that Brenden did this, I was pleased to find out that if that situation were real I would have defended myself or someone else close to me.

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The Value of Communication

You learn very quickly how much you take the ability to communicate for granted when you are taken to a place where you can't communicate. I never was particularly fond of English before, now I feel I am deeply in love with it. It's just so easy, right? Being able to talk without thinking. Put endings on verbs without even trying. And have access to a vocabulary with countless words. My vocabulary in Darija is so extremely limited right now and I talk as if I am a 3-year-old child. There is so much I want to say and so much I want to know, but I literally can't. I have found that I have two personalities here in Morocco. There is Layla, my personality in Darija. She is quite, reserved, keeps to herself. Gets frustrated easily when problems arrise with lauguage. She really doesn't say much of value. But on the other hand there is Alex, the girl who can talk to her hearts content. Joke and laugh whenever she wants. Say exactly what is on her mind and in her heart. The two cross a little bit once in a while. Sometimes I catch Layla laughing hysterically when Malika, my host mother, is playfully beating up Taha, my host brother.

One of the best lack of communication stories I have so far happened last weekend when we traveled to another town. Our taxi driver pulled up at the taxi stand and we were trying to tell him we would like him to take us to the "Auberge". We thought that was the name of our hotel. We were quite sure of ourselves. He kept trying to ask us "which one?" We had no idea how there could be more that one "Auberge" because we though it was the name of the hotel. We come to find out later that "auberge" means youth hostel. He was trying to ask us which youth hostel we wanted to go to because naturally there were multiple ones in the big city we were in. So if we were speaking English this is how we would sound:

Us: We want to go to the youth hostel.
Taxi driver: Which one?
Us: The YOUTH HOSTEL.
Taxi driver: There is more than one.
Us: No really the youth hostel, take us to the youth hostel.

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Faq!!!!

We are quickly finding way to swear without really swearing. The Darija (Moroccan Arabic) word for on is "fuq". That "q" is pronounced as a "k". The word for wake up is "faq". Well the two are different, but barely. In an effort to get us to hear the difference Lahcen, our language teacher, yelled "faq" much louder than necessary. Just say it out loud to yourself right now. Then you will be in the position I was in earlier today when I had to keep my snickering under control in class. I've basically thought about it all day, whenever I need a laugh. So now if we really feel the need to use the English F--- word, we just say "wake up" in Darija! We're not really swearing, right?

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