Instincts

I don’t want to tell you this story to scare or worry you. But you have to take the bad with the good and this story would be an illustration of the bad. All in all it is a story about instincts.
My neighbor had taken me out to a store to help me talk with the clerk there and after we were finished we started walking towards home. When we reached the bakery I told him I wanted to stop there and he told me he was going to the nearby café to meet a friend. I really was in the mood for something to satisfy my sweet tooth. I didn’t find anything I wanted at the bakery so I proceeded to look in a couple other shops to find exactly what would hit the spot. After not finding what I wanted I left the main street and walked around the backside of my block to look in the stores there. I had been looking for a small basket to keep my makeup in and I found one at a nearby shop. After leaving there I stopped in a clothing shop to look at a sweater. All this time I am within 1 minute of my apartment. After walking out of the clothing shop, now I am 20 seconds from my door, I felt my purse, which was strapped over my shoulder, pulled up and over my head. All that could come out of my mouth was “hey-stop” and the word stop turned into a long horror movie-like scream. This person had a hold my purse from one end and I had my hand around the strap at the other end. I held onto it for dear life and I hit the thief with the basket I just had bought. I don’t think that scream came from fright-it came from anger. I have found that in situations like this anger is a good defense. If you are angry enough you will be prepared to do what it takes to save yourself.
The thief did not get my purse. If they would have gotten it I would have lost my cell phone, all of my keys, my Moroccan bank card, my American bank card, my Peace Corps ID, my insurance card, and a little money. There were some men nearby at a carpentry shop and one of them immediately sprinted after the thief as they ran off. Two others followed. I stood there distraught for a moment, wondering if anyone would come see if I was ok. No one did so I decided to just go inside. The men who chased after the thief came back and asked if I had all my things. I told them yes and thanked them. This was an unfortunate situation and there were lots of lessons to be learned from it.
1. I should never walk alone in areas that are not well lit.
2. I shouldn’t be out alone after dark.
3. I should carry all my important things on my body in a zipped pocket.
4. El Gara, even though small, can have danger.
5. I must understand that my personal safety is a lot more important than my pride.
So I told you this was a story about instincts. In daily mundane life it is easy to forget that we have these wonderful things inside of us called instincts. Screaming when you feel scared, listening for traffic, and protecting your head if you see something coming at you are all examples of instinctual behavior. These things are so common they happen everyday. But when put in a situation of real danger it’s nice to have proven that those instincts are there and that they will work for you. It only took the thief about 1 second to pull my purse up and over my head and I don’t even remember grabbing onto it, but somehow my hand was around that strap, able to pull it away from them. I didn’t even think about screaming, I just did it. My body just reacted and I hit them with my other hand. If you can remember from a while back I wrote an entry about when I thought my friend Yorda was in danger of being grabbed by someone on the street I put my body between hers and the unknown assailant. The “assailant” turned out to be another friend playing a joke on us, but I thought it was a real situation. In that case I didn’t even think either, I just reacted. Most of us say that if presented with a dangerous situation we might not know what to do. However, here in Morocco it has been proven to me multiple times that I do have what it takes to confront danger.

Just to complete the story and give you peace of mind, the next day I went to my local authorities and told them what had happened. They told me that they would try to find out who this person was and to let them know that they better never try anything like that again. Also in telling just a few people, I have told the whole town. I’m sure more people will be watching out for me from now on.

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I am finally home

The day I have been waiting for since September has finally come. I am the proud owner of my very own apartment and I am all moved in! I can happily say that all my clothes are finally now in all their very own spots in my built in closet and I feel so much more freedom due to this fact. Little by little I am making purchases to make this place my own. It is the first time I have had to buy myself all sorts of household goods and it is a lot of fun. I know I am going to be very happy here because I feel so much peace. I am always at ease. There is not a lot of noise and I feel I can finally relax. I will no longer hear a knock at my bedroom door at 10:00 pm being told it’s time for dinner or be asked to go places I don’t really want to go. Now I can eat my breakfast, lunch, and dinner whenever I feel hungry and make what pleases me. I can come and go as I please and not have to constantly inform someone of my whereabouts. I love the freedom of being able to express myself here. I have already put up large maps of Morocco, the world, Michigan State University, and the greater Lansing area. I even have a framed picture of my beloved president and an American flag beneath him.
A part of being a Peace Corps volunteer that you don’t exactly think about is learning the skill of being self-sufficient. Back home for the past 3 years I lived away from my parents. I lived in an apartment for 1 year, having to pay bills and cook for myself but it really doesn’t come close to this. Here in Morocco I have rented an apartment, picked out things I need for it, and made it my home all in another culture and language. Aside from any work I do here, I already feel accomplished having done this. It feels good to finally be on my own because I feel so much more responsibility for myself and I feel like my life in finally back in my control. Things are going to be different from here on out. I already feel so much more stability and strength. Doing my job effectively will now be easier because I have such a wonderful place to prepare myself and to distress when I need it.

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Sleigh Bells ring...are you listening?

Take something away and you want it more than ever. That’s the case this year for me with Christmas. The past few years I was having a hard time seeing past the endless trips to the mall and the endless supply of money spent on material things just to supposedly, show love. I have been irritated by the amount of cash flying on things that we all can really live without. But right now I would give anything to be making 14 laps around the mall parking lot in order to get the best parking spot. I can hear the constant bell ringing of the Salvation Army volunteers. I can taste the delightfully sugary frosting that tops sugar Christmas cookies if I concentrate hard enough. I luckily have gotten to the chance to watch a few Christmas movies here in Morocco and they surely got my spirit revved up. When you are submerged in your own culture year after year you find bits of culture hard to identify. But Christmastime is a huge culture all of it own. And being away from it is what has made me notice and appreciate it the most.

Christmas is tiny lights strung on a string. It’s songs by Nat King Cole and Bing Crosby. Christmas is watching Ralphy get his Red Rider BB gun over and over again for 24 hours straight. It’s driving around town looking at all the spectacular displays of shapes and designs of light people work so hard to create. Christmas is watching “It’s a Wonderful Life” and learning how important your life actually is. It’s being able to recite all the names of Santa’s reindeer, usually leaving out one. It is swimming in piles of used wrapping paper wondering where in hell you are going to put all this new stuff. Christmas is hard work all day in the kitchen. It is watching the men do the dishes when the meal is through.

I know you can’t see from my perspective over here but I hope to at least inspire you to get in my frame of mind. It’s easy to get annoyed with the constant traffic and the endless gift wrapping but please take just a minute to see the perfect beauty that is Christmas and soak in it for a moment. It is part of who we are as Americans. I am finding out so much more about who I am by looking at where I have come from.

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Adventures in Transit: Sheep in my face, squatting between cactus plants, and a need for Depends

Part of being a Peace Corps volunteer is having the opportunity to travel to other parts of the country in order to collaborate with fellow volunteers. I recently was invited by Tyson, an environment volunteer in my region, to help him with the health workshop that he had organized for his community. My fellow youth development volunteer Christopher and I headed off for Tyson’s site in hopes be of some help as well as have a learning experience for ourselves. I must say that every experience for me here in Morocco is a learning one. I get the opportunity to learn about the country and learn about myself.

Early in the morning I caught a taxi to a city where I was meeting with Christopher. After which we hopped into a taxi together with an unexpected friend included. We rode in the back seat of a station wagon with 2 other women and their cargo was loaded in the hatchback behind us. Their cargo happened to be a sheep. First his butt was in my face. Then when he got restless he turned around to put his face next to mine. I was hoping that this sheep wasn’t hungry and wouldn’t want to eat my hair as an early morning snack. Meanwhile the woman next to me, from behind her Coke-bottle classes, found it necessary to stare and me from time to time.

Tyson’s site is far different from any I have ever been to before. In Peace Corps Morocco youth development and small business development volunteers are usually placed in urban cities while health and environment volunteers are normally placed in rural communities. Driving into “the middle of nowhere” is a beautiful thing. There is so much open space to explore and natural wonder to admire. It is so clean because there aren’t enough people around to mess it up.

Christopher and I met up with Tyson as well as 3 health volunteers. Within a couple minutes of meeting other Peace Corps volunteers you become fast friends. Just the fact that you have already shared so many similar experiences you have a glue that binds you automatically. It always helps when you have other things in common, like state of origin. One of the volunteers present, Nicole, is from Michigan like me and attended University of Michigan. We even had mutual friends in back home so we hit it off immediately.

Tyson had organized a venue for members of his community to get inexpensive eyesight exams and diabetes screenings by area medical professionals. The health volunteers wanted to participate by doing dental health demonstrations. The problem was these 3 volunteers all speak Berber languages in their sites and the members of this community all speak Moroccan Arabic. Tyson had invited Christopher and I to help with translation.

Me translate? After only 3 months of learning a new language. It’s been proven to me that sometimes you don’t have the guts to do something until you are forced into doing it. This was the case here. Another volunteer Meagan wanted me to ask the people gathered around our table when you would brush your teeth, how to brush your teeth well, and also bring up how much sugar is healthy. I was really glad that I got the opportunity to be put in this position because when faced with the challenge I can safely say I stepped up to the plate. I truly enjoyed talking to these new and different people about dental health and they clearly enjoyed meeting me as well. By the end of a couple hours I had multiple women telling me I was their new friend and were begging me to come to their houses for tea

Work travel is not always about work. It is such a nice opportunity to see different places and meet different people, both American and Moroccan. One of Tyson’s Moroccan coworkers invited us all to his house to meet his family and most likely be talked into some dinner. On our way to this man’s home I became overwhelmed with the feeling of having to use the restroom (not number 1). I thought I was in a very small town so I figured the drive would be short so I just kept quiet, suffering in silence. When the trek got longer and longer I had to ask Tyson just how long it was that we had to go. He said it wasn’t far. Being me I was trying to be as lady-like about the whole thing as possible but as I already know bathroom stories are never a taboo subject among PCVs. Seeing as bathroom facilities are so different here in Morocco we all need moral support using them. After a couple minutes my fellow PCVs understood what was happening to me. Tyson’s friend was having a really fun time driving us, singing songs and showing off his English skills, he seemed in no hurry to get home. I didn’t want to be rude but I finally had to just tell him that I was sick and everyone helped me reinforce that. When this man finally understood my urgency he proceeded to pull over and gave me some tissues in order to go outside. I left the car but just couldn’t do it. I already had gone beyond myself earlier that day by taking a wiz outside because I had no other options. Them most private place being wedged between 2 cactus plants. I had to be quite careful. 

I told him to just get home as soon as possible. He found it necessary to call his wife ahead of time and tell her that he was bringing someone home that was sick in order to prepare for my arrival. When we pulled up I made a b-line from the car to this man’s bathroom. I was surprised and thrilled to see it was a Western style toilet so it made riding myself of this terrible sickness that much more comfortable. But what happened afterward was I wouldn’t figure out how to flush it. In fact I broke it while trying to flush. I had to call someone in to help me because this flushing mechanism was different that any I had been used to using. 

After my date with the bathroom I knew Tyson’s friend was going to do everything in his power to make me better. He was attempting to feed me this mystery liquid medication when I had to actively refuse. I wasn’t sure what it was so I wanted to be safe and not sorry. But later gave me hot water with herbs in it for settling of the stomach and I drank it willingly figuring it could do no harm. 

We were all looking forward to getting back to Tyson’s place because Meagan had promised to lead us in making her family’s Christmas chicken soup. I was glad to have this to help me feel better. The 3 of us girls and Christopher worked until the middle of the night preparing thick noodles from scratch and chopping veggies for this delicious soup. It was midnight before we were able to eat it but it was surely worth the wait. It was so delicious and tasted even better because it was made with so much love. While eating the soup we all watched A Charlie Brown Christmas on Tyson’s computer. 

The rest of that night and the following day I was experiencing stomach cramps so I tried to take it easy. It’s really hard to tell what sent my digestive system into frenzy, but it is a good excuse to get people to take care of you!

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Self-Reliance

Before I came to Morocco I relied on my wonderful parents, Tom and Sara , for so much. Even though I am 23 years old I still don’t feel comfortable about making a big decision without talking it over with them first. They are always there for me willing to give any support necessary. They know that I worry about money a lot and they always try to alleviate that stress by making it known that I will always be taken are of. Nothing about this makes me feel immature or childish, it just shows that I place so much value in my parents opinions. But when I knew my Peace Corps service was coming near I tried to stop going to them for everything, knowing that I would have to be self reliant in the Peace Corps.
During my 9 week training program I was basically a child in the way that I had to learn to talk, eat, use the restroom, and so much more all over again. My language teacher, Lahcen, during that time became my surrogate parent. With the tools Lahcen gave me to survive in a new country and the confidence instilled in me by my mom and dad, when it came time to be alone in my site I was ready.
A couple weeks after arriving I was blessed to have met a female English teacher from the local high school in my town. Her name is Aziza. In only 10 minutes after meeting me she had become my tutor, mentor, and most of all friend. She is a very modern and forward looking woman so she is absolutely perfect for me. She and her husband are both happy to help me get settled in my new apartment.
After a couple of weeks I realized that I was planning on being totally reliant on Aziza. She lives and works in my town during the week and on the weekends her husband and her go to Casablanca, an hour away from me, where their “real” home is. On school holidays she is gone for even longer. This leaves me in a difficult position. Should I sit around and wait for her help or be confident in myself? Earlier this week I woke up with a can do attitude. I had some business to take care of in finalizing my apartment, like signing the contract, installing a new lock, and installing a private electricity meter. All of these things, I was planning on doing with Aziza’s help. But I realized that if I keep telling myself that I cant do something on my own then I never will. The truth is I can do anything I put my mind to, and that has been proven to me time and time again in my first 3 months in Morocco. Never in my life has this point been more clear to me. Peace Corps service is all about taking baby steps. Believe me the first time I bought toilet paper by myself was a very proud moment. I was even more proud when I sent my first package home by myself. And I was so happy with myself after I walked away from signing the contract for my apartment on my own. You don’t realize how truly independent you can be until you are forced into it. I can’t constantly grab for my cell phone and call my mom and dad whenever I have a tiny problem. I have to work it out on my own and it is making me stronger.
Don’t take this as me becoming person who is afraid to as for help because that is far from the truth. My mom and dad and I talk very often and I want them to know everything that is going on in my life here. Just because we are far apart geographically doesn’t mean we have to be far apart emotionally. Mom my can remember the night I had to call her to ask her for “boy” advice. I will always be reliant on her for that. But what is happening now is that I am finding a balance between self-reliance and asking for help.

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The Photos Screamed at Me

Tonight my photos screamed at me.
But of course they didn’t make a sound.
They told me things over and over that I already knew.
So many messages contained in such a simple image.
They told me how lucky I was, how downright blessed I am.
They grabbed me and held me so tight I had to struggle to break free.
But I didn’t want to break free.
I wanted to stay attached to the memories of my past moments.
I wanted to stay lost in the images of the faces.
The faces that are perfect and could have no flaw.
I will always hold tight and never let go.
Never let go with my heart.
There’s a glue that bonds my heart to yours.
And it’s the strongest substance in the world.
It’s name is friendship.
Friends are family that you chose yourself.
The choices are always made carefully.
The time within the friendship happens without effort.
It’s the easiest thing imaginable to give.
The time is given willingly.
It is so meaningful.
It is given without strategy, agenda, or desire.
It’s love.

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Video of my new apartment

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Video of Engagament Party

This is old, but i just got the chance to put it up with fast internet! Enjoy.

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Your a line jumper

You fill up your basket with items in the grocery store. Ok now what’s next? You scan the checkout lanes to discover the shortest or quickest line. You join the other members of the queue and even though sometimes frustrating, you wait your turn with patience.
You take a trip to Cedar Point. You can’t wait to ride the Raptor. You join the line and again, wait your turn.
Lines work. Lines, however frustrating, are fair. If you’ve ever seen one specific Cici’s Pizza commercial your familiar with the term “line jumper”. “You’re a line jumper,” the woman shouts. Nothing is more irking than a line jumper. If your gutsy enough to take cuts you deserve what’s coming to you. Shouts or looks of death from surrounding people. This concept is as normal to us Americans as sliced bread. Little things like this we don’t really see as part of a culture. Well the fact that we respect a queue and wait our turn is a huge part of our culture. The only way I figured this out was to be elsewhere, where this concept is not as firm.
The other day I entered a mobile wireless provider branch that also sold office supplies and also provided copy services. All I wanted was a small notebook to start writing lesson plans in. When I entered the situation I was second in “line” so I stood quietly waiting “my turn” while the man in front of me was waited on. As I stood more people entered the small store behind me. The woman clerk of the store had met me before but wasn’t the friendliest of all women. I had thought that she noticed my presence and she would ask me what I wanted but I was far from correct. Well I was right, she saw me there, but my mere presence wasn’t enough to get service. Three people behind me moved themselves up to the counter and stood horizontally across it. They pushed their business to the middle of the counter. As this point I knew I had to prepare for battle. As an American I feel a social obligation to respect a line. I had to suppress this feeling and put myself at the level of the other customers. When I saw a break in the clerk’s work I said “excuse me please.” I’m sure you can imagine my little voice. I said “I need a notebook please.”
I got my notebook and the woman didn’t even tell me the price. She went back to waiting on the other customers. Again when I saw a free moment I asked “how much.” Then I threw my money down trying to get out of there quickly. Through this entire ordeal my body language and facial expressions were expressing discomfort, annoyance, and frustration. Either these signals don’t translate across languages or the people around me are so used to this they wouldn’t even have the idea that someone could dislike this process.
I’m not a person who enjoys being rude. I will save my rudeness up for when it is absolutely necessary but I don’t feel comfortable doing it on a daily basis. I feel that by pushing my way towards the counter, getting in the clerks face, and overwhelming them that I am being very rude. But if I continue with this mindset it may take me 20 minutes just to get one item and I will get walked on over and over again. I am not tall and I don’t look threatening but I desire to put out an outward image of strength. This is something that I have always struggled with. I don’t want people preserving me as a door mat. So again, as much as my inner sirens are going off and as loud as my conscience is screaming “wait your turn, wait your turn”, I must ignore it. When in Morocco do as the Moroccans do.

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