A push for reading

In my adult life reading has been a source of comfort, education, entertainment, and accomplishment for me. I look to books to teach me a wide range of things about almost anything I want to know. Many times I have sought comfort in books by reading the stories, whether true or not, written in their pages. Each time I close a book for the final time I feel accomplished and view the book as a trophy of that.

In our culture reading is taken at great importance. Children often have a shelf of books in their room from birth and eagerly chose a new story for their parents to read each night at bedtime. I think we all can identify a few of our favorite childhood stories. Reading is a part of schooling from elementary school to college and most students do a lot of reading as part of their education. Some people find this reading to be enough, but many others take up reading as a leisure activity as well.

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I did lots of leisure reading in college on top of my requirements for classes, but not nearly enough as I wanted to. I looked forward to the day where required readings would be in my past and I would get to choose everything I wanted to read for myself. I was looking forward to having time to read many books. Now as a Peace Corps volunteer I have that time and I enjoy reading more than ever.

I have found that the children of my small town in Morocco don’t share the same hobby. In their free time the kids of today like to be on the Web talking to their friends or play video games at Internet cafes. My new hope is to instill a love for reading into at least some of the youth in my town. I will be starting a new library program at my local youth center, encouraging kids to read. When I first came to this town I was struck by how many books were in the youth center and how I had never seen them touched. I thought that was a terrible thing. All those wonderful stories, stacked there collecting dust. Every Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday I will hold library time at the youth center from 6-8 where kids of any age can come in and read the books that are available there. There are many books in French and Arabic, for children and young adults. I am also trying to build up a small collection of children’s books in English for those learning the language.


I know that to get kids to read that never do I must offer some kind of incentive. So that’s why I have established the point system. For each hour of reading the child will earn one point. For 10 points earned they will get candy and cookies, for 20 points earned they will win a larger prize, and for 40 points earned -well I haven’t gotten that far yet. Also to encourage the kids to work together I am going to offer the incentive of throwing a small party at the youth center when 100 points collectively have been earned.

If reading is something that you also love and you believe it is important to a child’s growth and development you could be a big help to me. If you have any used children’s books that you no longer need you may mail them to me here in Morocco. I also could use small toys or prizes for children that could be picked up at the dollar store or even be kids meal toys. I am trying to build up a treasure box of prizes so the winners may choose something for reading. Any donations would be greatly appreciated!

My address in Morocco:

Alex Cash
B. P. 64
El Gara 26.300
MOROCCO

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I go to parties like it's my job

I go to parties like it’s my job.

Well it kind of is. Going to parties is actually part of my job. It may not be in the job description but going to Moroccan parties is fulfilling goals two and three of Peace Corps, cultural exchange. By going to parties and living within the cultural norms of Moroccans I can in turn share my experiences with friends and family in America, and through me they learn more about the Moroccan culture. And being the only American at the party people get the chance to know an American intimately, and hopefully realize that Americans are not always as them seem in movies.

Even though parties can be extremely awkward situations for me I somewhat enjoy going to them because they show a lot about Moroccan culture. This week I got invited to an “engagement party” of the daughter of a friend of my Moroccan mother. I had met some members of that family before so they welcomed me with open arms. Traditionally and usually most Moroccan parties are segregated. Men and women branch off into different rooms immediately upon crossing the threshold. I was lucky that my sister Rababe attended this party with me so for the first time I would have someone to talk to and ask questions about what was going on. First about 10 women, myself included, we sitting in a small room doing not much more than staring at the floor and twiddling our thumbs. I asked Rababe why women are always so quiet at this parties and she told me it’s because usually most people don’t know each other. I began to think “this is sooommme party.” What happened next was a complete change in atmosphere. Someone brought out a soft metal serving tray that I quickly learned was going to be used as a drum. Four other small hand drums came out and the table became an object to bang on as well. Quickly the room filled with percussion and chanting. Some women got up to dance. I put them in or around their 40s and 50s but they danced as if they were 20-year-olds.

A little bit later the couple arrived. Two people around age 30 give or take a couple years. Once they arrived the women went to a larger, more beautiful sitting room, where lots of pictures were taken, and the exchanging of rings happened. Also a tradition much like our one of feeding each other wedding cake took place here. The man and woman feed each other a date and milk and they rest of the guests eat this too. Because I had Rababe with me I learned that this is the actual ceremony of marriage. At this party the bride and groom are actually married. Here I thought it was just a party celebrating the engagement. The actual “wedding” if you will takes place months later, but the new couple can not live together until that event takes place. I bet you are confused, but the thing is so am I. I still don’t understand Moroccan marriage ceremonies because they are nothing like American ones. I just smile and laugh and enjoy it for what it is. Speaking of laughing I loved how young and modern this new couple seemed. There are many posed pictures taken at these events and the pair of them had a hard time getting through them straight faced. For instance there is always the same picture with the man fake kissing the woman’s forehead. They had to keep a straight face long enough for someone to snap a photo. Also the two of them met at work, where they both are employed in the medical field. I asked Rababe if the bride would continue to work once she is married and she said yes, which shocked and thrilled me. A modern couple in a modern time.

Going to parties is also a good way for me to connect with my fellow community members and to make them and myself feel like I am a member of this town. As well as strengthen connections it helps to make connections too. I have found that on many occasions of venturing to a new place or meeting a new person it almost always leads to more positive connections made. I met my best friend here in town by to going to a party. I went to a party with my Moroccan mother and one of her friends who were in attendance asked me if I could tutor her 15-year-old daughter in English. I agreed and our meetings took place at her 22-year-old sisters house, because it was near mine. Her sister very quickly and easily began using the high school English she had learned five years previously in order to help our lessons go smoother. Pretty soon after a couple of weeks Imane and I struck up a friendship. And soon in addition to my weekly English lesson I was going to her house just to hang out. Now after five months Imane and I have a strong relationship and we can easily tell each other a lot of things. The chain of events that led me to her started with that party.

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A year in the life

Me, in my first week in Morocco

Looking back on the last year of my life it is unbelievable how much has happened and how much has been packed into 12 short months. In 12 months I have gone from a child to an adult all over again and learned how to survive in a new country and culture.

When I first got to Morocco I was a toddler in many ways. I had to learn how to eat differently, use the toilet, bathe myself, dress, speak, understand, read, and buy things. I had many people helping me with that process between Peace Corps supportive staff and my fellow trainees going through the same things. I remember talking to current volunteers during that time and not being able to believe that I was going to get to the point they were at someday. And someday soon. Only having two years total here, I was going to have to re-grow up, very fast.

I remember talking about things like traveling alone, finding a place to live, and paying bills. Again I didn’t believe for a second that I was going to be doing it. How was I going to look for an apartment in a place where I barely understood the language let alone how local real estate works.

The day after I swore in as a volunteer and graduated from the training program was probably the strangest day of my life. I woke up that morning to say goodbye to all of my fellow trainees, who had become my new family, and to see them off across the entire country of Morocco. And I was going to have to set off alone to my new site, not sure what to expect or who I would meet. It was quite possibly the hardest thing I have ever done. Even harder than leaving my parents because I knew I was going off completely on my own. No staff would be there to greet me and there would be no Americans in close range to seek safety from.

In the first few months in my site things went fast. Unbelievably, in that time I found an apartment, applied for my Moroccan identity card, met some nice people, paid bills, and started work. All those things that I couldn’t see myself doing just a few months prior, I was doing successfully. As time continued to roll on many other firsts and accomplishments were taking place. The first time I traveled very far alone was frightening at first but once it was over I had proven to myself that I could do it. Now every time since I always have the confidence to know that I can tackle this challenge.

Sometimes staring down the 14 months I still have left in my service leaves me feeling a little lonely and homesick. But looking back at the 12 that I already have under my belt I am astonished. In retrospect the events of the last 12 months of my life have transpired so quickly I know the next 14 will probably do the same. When 14 months feels intimidating I just remember to get through one day at a time. Peace Corps, to me, has been like being on a moving treadmill. Things keep going on and I keep walking with some force driving me forward. I’ve got no choice but to keep going.

The things that I’ve seen , the people that I’ve met, and the experiences that I have had in these past 12 months make this experience seem like a dream. It’s hard to believe that me, Alex Cash, can call myself the sister of a lovely Moroccan teenager who looks up to me, and the best friend of a welcoming Moroccan woman who feels she can tell me anything. I’ve been blessed to be a part of people’s lives here. When all this is behind me and all I have are memories I’m not going to remember the struggles, the English classes that I taught, or attempts at working against a preconceived system, I am going to remember the moments that I spent with the people who cared about me most. The people who loved me for what I am, even if I was different.

My mission here is simple. Be someone that people can say what they need to say to. Be someone’s support. Make someone realize they can be who they are with me, even if it goes against what they were taught. If I have an effect on just one person’s life then my service has been worth my while.


PS I just noticed that this is my 100th entry. Pretty fitting for my year anniversary.



Me, at summer camp

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Tonight We See the Same Moon

Miles may be between us,
an ocean may separate our hearts.
Two different lands may we stand upon,
but tonight we see the same moon.

Our typography may differ,
the words we speak may vary,
the stars we see may be diversely aligned,
but tonight we see the same moon.


An opposite routine we may face,
an opposing normalcy we may endure,
a day full of differences we may experience,
but tonight we see the same moon.

No distance changes it shape,
changes its light,
or it’s allure.


Strange as I may feel, alone in my day,
I get though to the evening to look the moon in the face.
The face that looks down upon me is the same that looks down upon you.
The face that remains the same.

Tonight look to the moon and think of me.
As I am doing the same.

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