Condensation

NEW BLOG ADDRESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2010-02-16T12:29:00.001-05:00

NEW BLOG ADDRESS IS :

http://ericobryant.wordpress.com/

PLEASE READ IT TO KEEP UPDATED, AND GIVE ME SUGGESTIONS. SOON I REFLECT ON A WHOLE YEAR! IN MOROCCO!!!!!!

MUCH LOVE,
ERIC

The Muskil on the Mountains

2010-01-06T07:17:00.002-05:00

Note to Readers: I am in the process of changing my blog to wordpress. No more of this Blogspot shenanigans. So just beware, and it should be switched over in the next few weeks, and you will find a link when it is finished!

The season is winter here. Temperatures have started dipping, the sunlight has reached an all time low for the year. We have had a little bit of rain, a couple of nasty weeks of weather, and probably enough rain.

However, the mountains near my town sit at about 10,500 and 11,000 ft respectively. As of right now, they only have a dusting of snow. From what I understand, this is the way the mountains usually look in November or in May. However, this is January. The heart of winter should be upon us. Instead, unseasonably warm temperatures have resulted in only rain in the surrounding areas, and just a little bit of snow at high elevations.

Yay for me though. Winter gives me the blues, and so these warm temperatures have kind of kept my sanity. When we have a sunny day, it is absolutely gorgeous, and the temperature gets up to around 50-55 Fahrenheit.

Talking to the local people and hearing the stories from other volunteers, last winter was excruciatingly brutal. Temperatures were bitter cold, and the amount of snow and precipitation we had was the most in about 30 years. It seems that this year is the opposite, and I hear about these 5 year cycles, where you have one or two "normal" years, and one "wet" year, and the other two or three years are "dry."

This region, and most of Morocco, have been in a drought over the past 20 years. Recently there has been a period of normalcy, but still, not enough to make up for the lack of precipitation over the long period of time.

The lack of snow on the nearby mountains worries me, and worries the people in the villages. This region relies heavily on Apple production, so much in fact that it is a export monoculture (other than wheat and corn for self). The snow on the mountains provides water into the dry months of summer, and allows for trees to maintain growth, and apples for ripen as they should. Apples also tend to be water intensive crops. Also, people in some villages have periods of dry wells and streams in the summer. In fact, most streams are dry as you get further away from their source.

So hopefully by now you can realize what problems this region might face in the summer. I worry about this, and worry that the lack of below freezing weather and snow on the mountains will crush the income generation of the region, and leave some villages without water for months on end during the summer.

Recently, over the past 30 years or so, this muskil (problem in Darija) has become worse due to two reasons, and potentially three. I will lay out these reasons, and let you come to your own decisions on if you choose to believe them.

The first reason is development. This is a good reason. As the region I live became accessible to farming, to consumerism, and more developed, the amount of resources used per person has increased. People are striving to have a better life, and build better communities for their families. You certainly cannot slight people for this. The people everywhere in developing countries deserve all of this.

The second reason is population growth. This region has doubled in population over the past 10 years. It is due to the development, and increase in living standards (health care, electricity, potable water). You also take the increase in resource use per person, and this exacerbates the problem even more when it comes to specifically water use. More farmers growing more apples equals more water needed and used. It also adds to more environmental degradation, in terms of pollution and wood use, the two major issues environmentally speaking.

The final reason is the sensitive, debatable issue. This issue is climate change. Now, before you naysayers get all uptight, just listen. Trends, whether it is just a long term cycle loop, or actual global climate change, it has hurt this country, and this region of the country. On the issue of global climate change, there are winners and losers in terms of countries. Morocco is repeatedly a loser, as the already dry regions become dryer, and the sahara/sahel regions encroach on the land here, and desertification becomes and issue. Because once an area loses its green (usually what little green it has) there is no way to return.

These trends in Morocco over the past thirty years have the potential to affect everyone. Morocco is the breadbasket of Europe, and a large majority of Europes food imports come from Morocco. So it becomes not only Morocco's problem, but Europe's problem as well. Whether you want to buy into the fact that this is due to global warming or just another cycle, that is your choice. BUT, looking at the data, Morocco has been a loser over the past 30 years or so in terms of lack of precipitation in the rainy season and increased temperatures.

I encourage you to read the book "Collapse" by Jared Diamond, who is an utmost expert on the issue of environmental degradation and cultures. I would call it Environmental Anthropology. Diamond puts all the evidence out there for the ways civlizations both now and in the past has collapsed. Probably one of the best books on this topic I have ever read.

Much Love, and Hope that you are doing well! Happy New Year and Happy Belated Holidays for those of you that were celebrating!

It Gets Serious Now

2009-12-19T16:30:00.002-05:00

Note to Readers:
Up until now, I tended to blog under the umbrella of the subject "cultural points." Today this changes, to an extent. I am going to begin focusing on work, some controversial issues, and trying to be more reflective and critical.

Second Note to Readers:
My apologies for not posting as frequently as I had hoped. I am attempting to change this nasty neglectfulness regarding my blog, and my outlet to you all.

Now on with the rest.

Lakefront Village

I just returned home today after traveling all day on a combination of transits, cars, taxis, and buses. The only type of transit (available in Morocco) that I was lacking was a train. I am sitting here writing, armed with a warm cup of Lipton Green Tea, and a bowl of some sort of Red Beans and Rice that my loving parents shipped (thank you!). I give you this set up, not because it is important to the story, but because in my 3 hours back from my trip, I have not yet had enough time to reflect on my previous five days away. So I may prolong and procrastinate in the entry, as my thoughts change, and as my fingers go in and out of being numb from the cold in my house.

This past week, I spent traveling, in order to work/help out on another volunteer's project. This project was a event based around health and wellness. Specifically, an association from El Jadida offered to come to this PCV's village and give up to 500 free diabetes tests, along with free eye exams. If you needed glasses, you could get them at the cheap rate of 100 DHs (13 USDs). I must also add that while the El Jadida association was heading this up, there were 2 other outside associations that combined forces.

So in all, here are the partners for this event.
- Three Associations outside of the village
- One Association within the village
- The Department of Water and Forests (In Name only)
- Three more than willing PCVs
- One PCV organizing all of the above into a great event

So myself, and 2 other PCV's traveled to my buddy's village (4 of us in all) to assist in this wonderful event. Our initial plan was to connect on the theme of wellness and healthy living for a community that was motivated and identified this as a need and want. We would conduct tooth brushing demonstrations, and also do a sort of recommended daily guidance of sugar. We were armed with toothbrushes, ready to shoot them out into the mouths of those willing to accept. We also had plans to play a little soccer, and potentially Frisbee.

We met up on Tuesday, so we had a few days to plan the event well, get ready for it all, and relax a little. About the setting: My buddy's village lies on the shores of the second biggest lake in Morocco, in the middle of the wheat belt. It is still warm in his site (like spring or fall-like), and so this provided a break from the cold, and a new part of the country to see and experience.

It is a rural village (as most environment PCV's are in rural locations), and there are no cafes and people hang out in various spots throughout the village just "shootin' the shit." I must add here that I was in an area of the country where ONLY Darija was spoken. This meant I was unable to communicate well with townspeople. BUT, this changed, and I realized I could use my context cues and non-verbals along with the verbals I knew to get by just fine. It was great getting to learn/practice Darija, and I feel like I learned a good amount.

So during this time we hung out and relaxed, and got all our work done. The dynamic we had as a group was nice, as we were all very relaxed, and it seemed as if nothing stressed us out on the surface. This created an atmosphere allowing for success. On a personal note, it also allowed for a break from some difficult times recently, and was very fulfilling.

The event itself went phenomenally, with about 200 people being tested for diabetes, and 27 people ordering glasses to be picked up at a later date. The group of us PCV's spent the day helping out, getting things when needed, and doing a tooth brushing demonstration, along with playing soccer with some of the boys (we wanted to have a girls game, but decided to not approach that idea.)

In addition to the actual event, we tried to use this event to publicize Peace Corps within the local area. My buddy (sorry I am not mentioning names) is the first volunteer in his area, and so Peace Corps is not well known. He has made some big strides since being there, and this was another sort of jump. EVERYONE of importance in the area showed up for the day. The gendarmes were there for security and order (including the boss), the Kaid was there, the Commune President as well, and the Water and Forest counterpart of my buddy. They were great, and while seeing what Peace Corps is all about, they were able to see other Americans, and have a slightly different perspective. (Side Note: My friend has long hair, as do I... I now think everyone in the village will think all American Men in their 20's has long hair)

Seeing how motivated the association within the village and in the Dept. of Water and Forests made me happy for my fellow PCV. They love him in their village, and rightfully so, as he has already done so much for them.

As the day went on, I was able to do some networking, and hopefully this sort of testing can be done in my community. I had some wonderful conversations, and one of the doctors who was volunteering himself came over, and the two of us conversed for a bit. At one point in the conversation we were thanking each other, and when he told me, "thank you," he added that "It makes me happy and is so great of you to come and help the people of my country."

It is comments like that that make my day, and I think I almost teared up. With the recent hard times, those sorts of comments re-energize me, and get me re-focused on what I am doing here.

I leave you all with this quote, by one of my favorite authors, that I have been pondering lately:

"But who can say what's best? That's why you need to grab whatever chance you have of happiness where you find it, and not worry about other people too much. My experience tells me that we get no more than two or three such chances in a life time, and if we let them go, we regret it for the rest of our lives." -Haruki Murakami (From "Norwegian Wood")

Much Love, and Happy Holidays!

Snow-Capped Mountains...

2009-12-03T13:22:00.002-05:00

Winter solitude--
in a world of one color
the sound of wind.
-Matsuo Basho

Ah yes, the return of winter. I came across this poem (a haiku, really) the other day. I enjoy it immensely.

For those of my readers that are unaware, I live at an elevation of 6200 ft... or 1950 meters, whichever you prefer to use. Many people think that "Oh yeah, Morocco is that desert country." When you live at elevation, at this latitude, you still get snow. The other day we got what I will call "the first snow on the mountain."

We have generally had gorgeous weather recently. It gets down near freezing at night, and during the day up to 60F (15 C). As long as the sun is out and beating on you, you feel quite warm. The other day this all changed (just for a brief couple of days).

We had a day of strong wind, a day of changing weather. I could tell (due to the wind) that it was going to get cloudy, and I knew this meant potentially getting rain or snow. It rained off and on for the better part of two days. The clouds were low enough that I knew once they cleared that there was a good chance of snow on the nearby mountain-top, which sits about 10,500 feet. I definitely was in anticipation, because the top of this mountain is brown and lacking in any color. When I first came to my village in May, I found snow-capped mountains. Absolutely striking in color and appearance.

Sure enough, when I awoke the next morning, I went outside (after bundling up) and checked it out. White tops and sun reflecting. I dislike cold (absolutely hate cold weather), but I figure if it is cold, we should have some snow to glance at.

One thing I am not exited for is trying to stay warm. As of right now, I am still wood-stove-less. I need to get on that. It is not super cold in my house yet, probably hovers around 55 degrees. Yes, I know that seems cold, but I just layer and sleep under numerous blankets and a sleeping-bag. However, the temperature in my house will continue to drop, and become unbearable.

In terms of the wood I will be using, I will be burning a combination of cedar and oak wood. This wood is likely harvested illegally, and it tells the story of the people here in this area, and country. Wood is necessary, but the regulation of wood-harvesting is difficult. The burning of wood, in addition to the lack of re-planting, and rapid population growth in the past 10 years (doubling) has contributed to the biggest environmental issue here... deforestation. In reality, I am now a part of this problem. But I need to stay warm, and this is the cheapest and safest way to stay warm in the coming winter. It is one of the moral issues that I face dealing with the environment here (the other being personal trash disposal...more later).

But, back to the return of winter!

It is cold here now, and while very serene and nice to have a fire going (unable to do this yet), it is going to be a long couple of months. People here tend to layer up and stay inside, so work becomes slow, and sometimes my road in/out of town becomes blocked with snow. It should be super-interesting, and eventually, I will post pictures.

With all of this said, I am glad to see the picturesque snow return to my village.

Much love to my readers (and anyone who reads this!) and hope your Thanksgiving was fantastic.

-Me!

In Memory of So-Youn Kim

2009-11-23T09:45:00.005-05:00

This past week (a week ago today), Peace Corps Morocco lost one of our fantastic volunteers unexpectedly. Her name was So-Youn Kim, and she was a Youth Development Volunteer. She was 23, and while I certainly will not go into details, it was an unexpected illness.

While I certainly did not know her as well as some of my colleagues, we are a tight knit family, and I knew her as she was my post-buddy (a sort of pen-pals sort of thing we do here with fellow PCV's) and I met her just once, at a volunteer gathering.

Her kindness and her intensity were awesome. She did some amazing work in her year here as a volunteer, not just teaching English to youth, but also working with a local pottery co-op. I recently learned that she was teaching German (she was fluent in that as well.) It is just a testament of her wanting to help and assist the people where she lived. It is so sad losing someone that was just an amazing person, and so young at 23. This past Saturday we held a memorial service in the Rabat, and many people came to this to remember her and give our respects.

Here is an article about So-Youn, some of her fantastic work, and some memories via other blogs from PCVs. While I knew So-Youn a little, I knew many of her close friends well, and knowing how many lives she touched just within her year of being here makes it that much harder to lose such a vibrant, caring, an fantastic person.

http://globalvoicesonline.org/2009/11/22/morocco-peace-corps-community-honors-so-youn-kim/

Her Family and friends are in our thoughts and prayers.

Marrakech Madness

2009-11-23T08:22:00.003-05:00

A few weeks ago I went to Marrakesh for a training. I was able to see Hilary Clinton, as well as stop a would-be pickpocket. Those you already know about. Now it is time to just tell you about the experience that is the tourist mecca of Morocco, the city called Marrakesh.

The way that I will break this down is based on the five senses. That seems a good way to do it, as the city is a sensual overload (well, the touristy Medina portion).

SIGHT:
Why chose sight to discuss first? I see it fitting as you see, well before you are able to do anything else (unless you have super other senses, or happen to be visually impaired).

I will first start with the bus station. A crazy mess of people running around, trying to get you to come over and talk, buses coming and going all over the country. Seeing traffic and all the different people. Different in the way they dress, more liberally dressed women, more cosmopolitan both male and female. Somewhat European dress I suppose is the best way to describe it. Groups of individuals congregated talking or playing a game of chess. Old men and women beggars standing and sitting waiting for people to drop a Dirham or two.

The Medina is up next. Old Marrakesh... Pulling up on the city bus at the Jemaa El Fna (mosque marking the area and entrance to the Medina), you see buses of tourists, and off in the distance a mass quantity of lights. This is the entrance to the Medina, the square of all squares. Chances are you have seen this in pictures before. From a distance, you can see the stalls, and see the people, so many of them just crawling around. As you get closer still you make out the different kinds of people. Snake charmers, Henna artists, fortune tellers, balloon sellers, and of course, the food stalls.

You want snails, they are here for you. Juices... step right up. Orange or Grapefruit??? Maybe you are looking to buy fresh spices for your meal making endeavor later. Paprika, curry, red pepper, cumin, salt, saffron (fake and real), rosemary, oregano, cinnamon, ginger, etc. etc. You want some dried fruits, step right up and see the dates, apricots, raisins, prunes. If none of that suits your fancy you can see all the other fine fresh foods.

Salads, Soups, Potatoes, Chicken, Beef, Lamb, Goat. Heads, legs, breasts, brain, eyes, stomach, liver, hearts, testicles?. Organs, organs, organs. You want it, you got it. Just take a seat on one of the many benches that fill the square and have your pick.

Stall owners wave to you and try to get you to come over. Sometimes you even see them reach out to grab you.

As that was just the outside of the medina, I still must discuss the inside. You enter and immediately see covered tight streets, with all of the shops. Carpets, wood, shoes, djellabas, metals, fruits, incense, leather. So many and so many more. It is a maze, and if you like to follow a map, good luck. My favorite thing to do was to just wander around aimlessly, seeing whatever was around. I saw a fight as well, but not a fist-fight. People here seem to be too cowardly for that, and just yell at each other, over seemingly little things.

Smell:
You get off the bus into the city, and you smell the fumes of cars and buses. I am not used to this, and I have come to enjoy my fairly pure mountain air. Lots of cars unregulated means lots of nasty fumes.

You get to the medina after being on a tightly packed bus, with the normal smell of the people around, which may or may not be okay. You instantly smell the food from far away. As you creep closer it becomes more intense. Until finally, you are in the mix. You want to everything, as smell and taste go hand in hand. But there is never enough time for it, and you have to be choosy as to not fill up your stomach. Smells in the square are intense, all sorts of the above mentioned foods being grilled and cooked. Smelling so appetizing.

Inside the Medina, not so many smells, but some new smells every once in a while. Smells of butcher shops and grilling foods. Smells of urine and musty old things. Carpet shops sometimes smell of old, as they hold onto carpets for what seems to be forever. After a while you kind of get used to the smells, unless something crazy strikes your senses. Like incense or something of that nature.

Taste:
So intimately related to smell, I must discuss it now. I suppose I have to discuss the things I ate, the things I did. I ate soup. It was a traditional Harira, a fantastic tomato based soup with small pasta, chick peas, lentils, and some beef? maybe it was goat or sheep. I am awful at distinguishing between those three. I enjoyed the snails. They were cooked in this broth, and it was so fantastic and not overpoweringly seafood-like. I recommend them, and they are cheap too. I drank a glass of OJ, for only 3DH it was worth it, and even though there was a lot of sugar in it, it was tasty. I also drank tea, which has a special assortment of spices in it. It was not at all good, and I had trouble drinking it all. I also got offered a date... the fruit... and gladly accepted, telling the man I would taste it, but I wasn't buying any. Also the taste of cigarettes, as people were smoking, and I would have one as well, just because. It was nasty, as it usually is for me. By the way, the brand, called Marquise, is awful, and tastes and feels like you are burning your mouth and throat. Mmm.

I ate gelato, wow was that good. I miss ice cream being readily available for me.

Sound:
This was another sense that was overloaded quickly. I am used to my quiet mountain town. In the city, you get honking, and traffic, and yelling, and talking, and new languages. People come up to you and hassle you. OH THE HASSLING. I kind of liked it though. Guys that would come up to you and offer you drugs, or offer you a place to stay. This is just the bus station (it really is not that bad though I promise). Then you add trying to get around where your language is not really spoken, you feel a bit off. But, luckily somebody understood me, and helped me out (thank you bus attendant guy).

You get to the Medina, and the low-sound of a mass quantity of people talking just fills and pollutes the air. Maybe pollute is too strong of a word. I find it somewhat appealing, but it pollutes the silence. Either way, people abound. I hear all sorts of things, French, Spanish, German, English, Arabic. People wanting me to come to eat their food, me to stay at their place, me to buy their goods, or go to their shops, buy the drugs (I have said this a lot, and it probably has to do with my appearance (Dad, I know, I should really get a hair cut), but yes, I get offered drugs a fair bit.) Potentially these are all people who are out to get a penny, make money and take advantage of me with their words.

Street food vendors telling me to come eat at their place, and then calling me names or other nasty things when I refuse. I got called a "bed-wetter." I found that humorous that he chose to use those words. Women have it hard, I felt somewhat lucky. Women get harassed in all sorts of ways with the words people speak. It is a sad fact of life in the Medina, and can be quite annoying or frustrating.

I luck out in Morocco, and I always meet people that speak the sounds I know, the languages I speak. I was called over by the snake-charmers. Rather than refusing (more on this later) I accepted, and came and spoke instantly in my Berber Language. Luckily, they were from near where I live, and we spoke, and they wanted me to sit down. I was listening to the snake-charming music with a two rattlesnakes and a cobra not more than five feet away, having a conversation with these folks about life here in Morocco, and what I am doing here. While I am going into sights again, I could see the tourists walking by and just looking at me as if to say "what the heck is that white-dude with long hair doing over there." I enjoyed that.

I had a similar conversation with some carpet shop and trinket owners. One group was super-welcoming. Another carpet shop owner, after telling him I was just looking, and not planning to buy, got upset and asked me to leave. Oh well, he was a jerk.

Touch
I did not touch a lot of things. I got grabbed by some folks and tried to get to buy a few things in stores and eat some food. Generally I dislike this, and it crosses any line. I touched some of the wool carpets, and the food I was eating, and the hot bowls of soup and cold glasses of juice. That really is about all that is worth discussing with touch.

Overall:
The Medina was crazy, and certainly is not for everyone. But I absolutely loved it. The Medina was super-intense, probably one of the most sensually overloading things I have experienced. OH yeah, and by the way, I act super-different, or probably "react" is the way to put it. I walk around like I know where I am going, what I am doing, and I speak the language, almost never speaking in English. I wear sunglasses a lot in the day, and walk around with a cigarette in my ear, and have no backpack on (not safe to do really). When people try to talk to me, I welcome it, give them my quick attention, and then they stop. They know that I am not worried or am uncomfortable with this. I go into a number of shops, and instantly tell owners I live here and will not be buying anything and will just look. They say "okay." and just leave me be to look around without trying to get me to buy buy buy. If I want to know a price, I ask, and often times I always say "too much, I am not a tourist, I live here." This helps a bunch in the bargaining process. Often times knowing the language gets me better initial prices.

I enjoy Marrakech, and even though I had a sad pick-pocketing experience, and there is abundant hassling and craziness in the Medina, it is so intense and if you want intensity, at least for a day, do it up. But my advice to you is go with the flow and not get too irritated at the people there (yes sometimes they go too far.) They are just doing what they do. If you want a laid-back medina experience, go to Fez, it is also intense, but no where near Marrakech.

Much Love!

On the List for Hillary Clinton

2009-11-11T11:14:00.003-05:00

Not writing for a span of a month does not mean that times were boring. In fact, times were busy, and tiring. I recently got over being sick... what I sum up to being a day that my body decided I was able to get sick and fully recover without missing anything big. I had been fighting it for about a week I think, but whatever. That is not important so much anymore. What IS important is that I was able to do a whole lot of things, including meeting (kind of) Secretary of State Hillary Clinton.

It just so happened that my training coincided with Sec. Clinton's visit for the "Forum of the Future" conference. This conference had representatives from all the G-8 countries as well as many Middle East and North African Countries, and was co-sponsored by the governments of Morocco and The United States.

Rumors about Sec. Clinton's visit abounded in the weeks preceding my recent training in Marrakesh. I had heard via a PCV who had heard via our training manager that they were trying to co-ordinate a visit from the Secretary or vice-versa, that we would go to see her. But as all rumor mills go, you take it with a grain of salt...potentially a bag of salt.

When I got to training, I found out from our Country Director that yes indeed, it was in the works, and would be Monday or Tuesday. Sec. Clinton arrived in Morocco from Israel/Palestine on Sunday, and would be leaving for Egypt on Wednesday.

The schedule changed about 15 times I believe, and what originally was supposed to be Monday, turned into Tuesday. We found out Tuesday morning that we were going to visit the Forum, and meet with Sec. Clinton. Everything that followed was kind of surreal, and a taste of what truly being "on the list" means. By the way, I have been on the list before, but never for one of the most important figures in the political world.

All 70 of us PCVs and staff loaded onto two buses, and headed off to the forum. When we got close, we saw the super increase in security, we saw the golf course surrounding the hotel, and then the hotel itself. It was an absolutely gorgeous place (naturally, right?...) We sat on the buses for a few minutes, while a group photo was finished of many of the attendees. When we got off the buses, we were met by US Embassy security staff, and we stood there for a few. They were super-kind, and it was nice to chat it up in kind of a "we both are serving our country" sort of way. We were then ushered into the hotel grounds, where we were put into two lines as to be orderly. We also had a security person checking our names off of the list provided by our Country Director (we all had passports as well).

We were led inside the conference center, where we passed all of these big shots dresses in suits and various business formal wear (think middle east business wear.) We went down inside this conference room, and there we sat and waited. While we were waiting a number of things happened:

1. Sec. Clinton's schedule changed five more times.
2. The new US Ambassador to Morocco spoke (We had met him on Sunday at our hotel)
3. A few PCV's spoke (including the now famous Muriel Johnson See CNN ARTICLE )
4. Then we got the procedures for when Hillary Clinton comes through the doors

Secretary Clinton came in, said a few words ( Transcript found HERE ) and then shook some hands of PCVs sitting on the rows, as well as the US Embassy staff and guests. The Secretary then bustled out the door, onto her next lunch or other meeting. We then waited about 45 minutes for her to leave the conference center, as no one was aloud to go near the motorcade (tight tight security eh?). BUT, this gave us a chance to once again talk with US Embassy staff about their jobs, and see what it is like for them to do what they do so so well. Also, they were interested to hear about what we did, and it was kind of humorous to think that some of them have no idea about the life we live as Peace Corps Volunteers.

So this is the story. Now my reaction to it all. Even while writing this now, It all seems pretty surreal. Initially I really did not think I would be impressed. But instead, I was floored with all the security, and the craziness of it all. I felt very privileged not only to have been a guest for a Embassy meet and greet (150 people i think) with the Secretary of State Clinton, but also that I had met and talked to the Ambassador to Morocco not just once, but twice in the span of three days.

I think what I am trying to say is that I felt special (wow that is cheesy eh?), but not in that stuck up "I am on the list" sort of way (yeah I know, it is the title of this post right.) INSTEAD, I felt that sort of camaraderie about being somewhere and serving your country, and that there are so many of us here just in Morocco doing that, where it be within Embassy posts, PCVs, Fullbrighters, USAID people, and so many others that I probably forgot or do not even know.

Sometimes, just going through the day to day basics of being in the same place, I tend to forget how privileged I am to be actually representing my country. This is not to say I take it for granted. I feel lucky everyday to be able to be in this amazing place, doing this amazing work, and meeting and learning some amazing things. There are just times that because of what I am doing here I get to meet some pretty amazing people, and it is a sort of "reality check." Hopefully you understand what I mean by this all.

Caught Red-Handed

2009-11-09T05:27:00.002-05:00

So it has been a good month since I posted anything, and a few things have happened since then. I have been swamped with work, and had a training this past week in Marrakesh. While I certainly will write about other topics, I wanted to address this topic first. Mainly because it is super-fresh in my mind.

I like to think that people are generally good people. But, sometimes, I know that there are crappy people that look to harass you or try to swindle you out of your money or things.

The past week I spent in Marrakesh for a training and was fortunate to meet up and hang out and catch up with other volunteers from around Morocco. It was also a chance for me to experience a new place, probably the most touristy in all of Morocco.

I had heard from others who had gone previously that I would not like Marrakesh, due to the harassment of guides, vendors, and random street folks. Kind of sad, but I would expect that in a place so touristy.

While all of those things were present, I absolutely enjoyed the city, and all of the various people watching that came along with it. Sure, I got harassed, was asked to leave a store because I was just "looking" and not "buying", and was called a "bed-wetter" (I am still wondering how he knew!!! hehe) when I would not let a guy help us find somewhere. In a future post I will tell you of my adventures in this touristy place, but in fact, I do thoroughly enjoy 'Kech, just as much as I enjoy Fes (for different reasons of course). But I have a story that trumps it all, and needs to be shared.

One night, I was making my way to the train station, to see what times trains were leaving the next day. I was carrying a backpack, and had a plastic bag and a plant in one hand (right hand), and the other hand (left hand) was free. I happened to be at a place called Jemaa El Fna. If you have never heard of such a place, you have certainly seen pictures. This is the place where all the food vendors set up shop, selling everything from OJ, to dates, to snails, to brains, to soup. It is a hustle and bustle of a place, probably the most touristy in Morocco, and the place happened to be full of people. It was a holiday, the Green March, celebrating Morocco's march into the Western Sahara region.

Having finished indulging on the food and people watching, I was waiting at the nearby bus hub for bus number 8, that would take me to the train station. The bus area was full of people. So when my bus pulled up, everyone crowded around the one door. Moroccans have difficulties in waiting their turn and lining up, and this situation was no different. While I hate doing it, I had no choice but to join them, and to kind of push my way towards the door. The only problem was that my hand was full, and I did not want to drop anything.

As I started to push to the door, I thought to myself "this is the perfect time to be pickpocketed, your hands are full and you are in a crowd with almost no space between people." So being kind of vigilant, I recalled a little boy unzipping my bag a few months back. It just so happened that during this time, a little boy (maybe 5) was fidgeting with my backpack. I kept giving him looks and tried to separate distance. But then I saw he was messing with a book, and I thought, "little boy, you can take my book if you wish."

At the same time I was paying attention to this boy, the group of us were still pushing for the door. The next set of events still are kind of blurry (at least the first few), but it got crazy.

I turned my head around, and swore that I felt something rubbing against my pocket. I looked down, and did not really see anything. I looked back up, and instantly realized that in fact I DID see something going on underneath my shirt that was hanging over my left pocket. I looked down again, and this time saw fidgeting in my pocket, and felt it. I instantly (kind of instinctively) looked up to see the guy next to me peering down towards my pocket, and his arm extended the same direction. I knew instantly this guy was in my pocket. (Remember, this is all within a few seconds)

I, like many of you, dislike when someone reaches into my pocket without invitation. So I then pulled his arm out. I did not let go, and was able to get an arm bar so he could not quickly bolt. I held on, and once again, instinctively, began yelling as loud as I could "Thief", in Moroccan Arabic. About as instantly as I yelled this two things happened.

The first thing was that the guy gave me my money back. He had in his hand my change purse. If you know my change purse, it is a cute Winnie the Pooh purse. In it, I had about 7 DH in change. Not much, the equivalent of about .90 Cents. His reaction in my opinion was priceless and ludicrous. He just handed it back, as if to say "You caught me, you win, here is your money back." I continued to hold onto his arm and then feel my pocket to make sure I had my camera and cell phone, both of which were in that same pocket.

The second thing that happened almost instantly after I started yelling, was that everyone stepped back, and basically created a circle around me and the thief. This allowed the thief no where to bolt through, and after I finally realized I had all of my belongings, I let go of his arm. The circle aloud me to face the guy, where I got in his face and shamed him in front of all the people. He then kind of walked off, and I think took his jacket off so he looked different.

I was glad my hand was full, because I really think I would have punched and or tackled him and held him to the ground until the police came. But I realized that would not have been smart, as he may have been working with other people, or he may have had a knife. But yes, I really wanted to hit him, and decided just to get on the bus instead.

I got on the bus, and talked to a guy who told me my knowledge of Moroccan Arabic saved me. After telling him I spoke no Darija, I spoke a berber language, he asked if I was a PCV. He told me I did the right thing (which I knew I did). The adrenaline rush continued for a few minutes, and eventually it wore off.

Afterward, I have replayed the situation over and over. I know I did everything right, and for that I am proud of myself for reacting so fast the way that I did. It is never comfortable to have that happen, but I know that hopefully in these situations I am prepared.

Lastly, if you do ever travel into places that are swarming with tourists, be on guard. I have had too many friends be pick-pocketed or held-up at knife-point in places like Rome or Paris.

Imilchil Wedding Festival

2009-09-30T03:36:00.004-05:00

So we rode into the Wedding Festival, tent and poles in tow, hoping to get a good spot. We were riding in the cab of a dumptruck, with a group of locals that we knew from another PCV. Along in our dump-truck were some other people riding in the back, and two steers and a calf. It was a slow ride up winding hills as the cameo was full, so the ride took longer than if we were in a transit van.

When we arrived, the general picture we saw was the above shot. A multitude of trucks, tents, animals and people. It was a super windy day, and due to the lack of trees or other flora, there was a pseudo-duststorm. It was nasty, and I was earning to get into a tent away from the blowing dust that was caking my face, eyes, hair, and teeth (yes! you can feel the layer of grit on your teeth).

The cameo parked, and my fellow PCV Liz went to go and find out where we were going to be stationed. I agreed to stay with the bulky stuff, as it was pointless to carry it anywhere. As I stood there, the guys with the cameo truck began to unload their cargo... the steers and calf. They had tied ropes onto the horns of the steers, one proper on the horns, the other around the nose area. They were tugging on the ropes trying to get the steers to get out of the trucks. They were stubborn, and wanted nothing to do with it. I was standing there, so I decided to help pull.

We finally got the first steer out. I help onto the rope, in order to keep it there and not run off. The steer was bulky, naturally, because they had fattened him up in order to sell him at the souq. He also was difficult. There were two of us to the steer, me on one rope, and another guy on the other. We were pulling in opposite directions, so the steer could not budge. But, the stubborn, husky steer resisted, and yanked and pulled us around. Another guy had a stick to hit the steer, but it was just like a fly, and barely phased the steer. He continued to wait for an opportune moment, trying to get free. He lowered his head and tried to get his horns into me (they were small horns) in order to get me to the ground and stamp on me. He also tried to lever his body into mine. My reaction was to do the same, which seems funny because I was certainly no match for the steer's immense size. This steer was difficult, but I knew if I let go the steer would go crazy.

After a few minutes of this, while the calf and the steer were being unloaded, I finally was relieved of my duty. I watched as they led the group of cows to the area they needed to go. From afar, I saw the difficult steer pulling two of the guys. I found this humorous, yet obviously a steer in a crowd is dangerous. As far as I know, all ended well.

That was just the introduction to the Imilchil Wedding Festival. The festival is due to a story. Basically, a very Romeo and Juliet story. A man and women fall in love, but are from rival tribes. They are forbidden from each other, and wept. Their tears created two lakes (Tislit and Isli), which means bride and groom. They then committed suicide in the lakes via drowning, and the tribes became friends, allowing marriage. That is the concise version (Go here to see the story)

So the festival exists for two reasons. One is so that to-be brides can choose their groom. Usually the brides are widows or divorcees, but there are also young women as well. They walk around the souq, covered completely except for their eyes. They wear the traditional colors, so they stand out. They walk around the souq and talk to people, or just eye people. The other reason for the festival in the fall, is that traditionally, winter here is hard, and it is difficult to get out. So the souq provides a way to stock up for the winter on all the good you need. Now, this part of Morocco is not as isolated as it was as little as 5 years ago, so it is no longer as full as it used to be. Regardless, it was still packed!

The point of my going to the festival was two-sided. Naturally, this is one of the most well known festivals in Morocco, and one of the largest and most traditional. I live close, so I really wanted to go and see it. In addition, some other volunteers in the area and I decided to have an informational tent about the nearby Eastern High Atlas National Park. Working with our counterparts from the Department of Water and Forests, we had a tent with informational panels and pamphlets about the EHANP, and the natural environment. We talked to local people at the festival about various environmental concerns in the area, including deforestation.

The festival was three days, and in the evenings, there were concerts in nearby Imilchil. The weather was chilly and rainy for the last two days, but that really did not put a damper on things.

As for the souq itself, it was huge (see picture). There were all sorts of fruits and vegetables, along with other random goods. In addition, there were used clothes tents and artisanal products like rugs and scarves. There were butchers to buy all kinds of chicken, sheep, goat, turkey, and beef. You could then take the meat to a griller who would cook your food, and you could eat super fresh meat!

There were also animal vendors, where you could buy various farm animals. Animals included were cattle, sheep, goats, mules, donkeys, horses, AND... CAMELS! I have never seen so many camels, and so I snapped a number of pictures.

During the souq, I happened to talk to a number of people. One of the groups I talked to were a group of want to-be brides. I was standing with another female PCV, and she was talking to them. I said hello, and they asked the women if I was her husband. She said no, and I jumped in and said that I was not married. This was followed by one of the women (I say women, but they were more than likely under 18) asking me to marry her. I had no idea what to say, so I went into my normal routine of saying that I was still too young, etc. This always gets a laugh, as I am 27, and of prime marrying age here in Morocco. Luckily for me, Men should be established with job and income, something I do not have. But this would probably be overlooked due to the fact I am American. Even still, it was really humorous.

I also bought my first touristy item, a small half wool/half cotton carpet made by artisans. The origin of the carpet is from near Meknes. It is nice and red, with very nice traditional patterns. What I love about living here is the fact I can ask where something is made, and know where it is located. I also have learned much about carpets here, and it is quite fascinating.

Overall, the Wedding fest was a great experience. If you want to see more pictures, become friends with me on facebook, or shoot me an email and i can send you the links for the pictures. I hope to be posting more in the future, and hope to be posting more controversial topics (about environment etc.). I am reading books at the moment which relate to this topic, and I wish to discuss them with you all!

Much Love, and email to say hello or come visit!
Eric

Book of the Time: Guns, Germs, and Steel - Jarod Diamond
Album of the Time: Kings of Convenience - Declaration of Dependence

Fasting, and Breaking Fast (Part 3)

2009-09-17T05:07:00.001-05:00

This is my third and final post in the series dealing with Ramadan. The first two posts dealt with the daily schedule, and the food of Ramadan, respectively. For this final post I will discuss Ramadan as an experience, and how I feel going through it.

For those of you who did not already know, I have been fasting completely during the month. No food and no water until the evening call to prayer. The no food thing has been easy after about the first week, your body just gets used to it. However, the no water situation can get to be tricky, especially if one is travelling, or in a hot location etc. Luckily for me, my village is in the mountains, and the hottest it gets here maybe 95 degrees. That is few and far between, and with very little humidity. So traveling was the difficult situation, which I will touch on in a minute.

There are different interpretations of the Koran, just as there are for the Bible. When it comes to Ramadan, this can make things tricky. Let me give you an example. One interpretation for Ramadan is that nothing is to pass your mouth during the fast. This includes rinsing a dry mouth with water, or brushing your teeth. I brush my teeth everyday twice (I should do it three times I know). Technically, some people view this as breaking fast. But I am not swallowing anything (water/toothpaste), so what does this actually mean. Other people say that it is okay to brush teeth or rinse mouth out and spit. The confusion also goes for traveling, as some believe if you are a certain distance away from your home you do not need to fast (you do however HAVE to make it up after Ramadan is over). Others feel that travelers should fast as well. In my travel experiences, most everyone fasts. I mean, I live in a country where people can be arrested if they are seen breaking fast in public (Moroccan citizens that is.)

As an overall experience, I was happy to fast during Ramadan, in order to see and feel what it is like. Generally, fasting helps your integration into a community. People on the street ask me all the time if I am fasting. They then confirm by saying “no water too.” They then give me a little pat on the back. We then have a little discussion about how Ramadan is a “difficult time.” Sometimes people will pick up on the lack of energy I had some days, and just pick up on the fact that I was fasting.

Health-wise, Ramadan is not good for your general health. In my case, I would fast all day, and then breaking fast, I would gorge myself, as it was my one meal of the day. Not good for the system to be deprived of food, then given everything at once. Also, most of the food I ate was carbohydrate intensive, so I was not getting my daily amount of fruits and vegetables. So to supplement, I would buy fruit like figs and just eat them at my house. Most Moroccans eat a midnight dinner as well, just before going to sleep. Eating before sleeping is also unhealthy, as your body does not digest the food as well when you are sleeping.

When it comes to water, not drinking it during the day is certainly not good for the body. Your body needs to flush out toxins and needs water to break down food. I found that the lack of water was the most trying thing at times, especially on the days where I had to travel or do work outside. One of the first days of Ramadan, I had to travel through Fes, on a day where it was 110 degrees easily. It was difficult. I can only imagine what Ramadan is like for the people in the south of the country, where it reaches 120+ degree temperatures during the day.

Overall for me, my health was pretty good. I tried to take care of myself supplementing fruits, and making sure to drink water and juices to get vitamins. I got sick one day during Ramadan, and I lost any water I had, and just became weak. I also found that in general, my focus was lacking. Maybe it was my body telling me I needed to give it important things, but I found that I could not concentrate on things for very long. So doing things like reading for extended periods, or writing emails or blogs became difficult.

I do not think that generally, most Moroccans are educated on the issues of health during Ramadan. I heard a number of times that fasting is good for your health. Maybe it is good due to the added assistance of the guy above. But certainly, Ramadan is a very unhealthy month.

There were some really great experiences during Ramadan as well. I mentioned above that people would ask me if I was fasting. I enjoyed being asked this question, as I sometimes would get the follow-up question of “why?” I would tell people that I was fasting because everyone in Morocco does it, and it is just the culture, and I respect the culture and the religion. It was a good opportunity to help integrate myself a bit more.

Also, the feeling of solidarity that I had was great (especially in the beginning.) Everyone is fasting, and so you are all in this together. I would meet people for the first time, and they would ask me about fasting, and then instantly we would have that bond. Knowing that millions of people not only in the country but around the world were fasting created this solidarity. Religions everywhere have things that create solidarity and a support network, but it was a greater extent than I had experienced before.

While most everyone was happy and fine during Ramadan, there were some situations where this was not the case. I saw fights and arguments almost everyday during Ramadan. Seemingly little things got blown out of proportion. There was a lot of yelling. People had very little patience, and would not care if people were ahead of them waiting to buy food at a store or a ticket at a bus station (generally, Moroccans are not known for their line standing skills, but during Ramadan this is exacerbated). There were times I felt like people were just using Ramadan as an excuse to blow up on each other. I mean, I was fasting, and while I felt impatient at times and irritated at times at people, I still controlled myself. So I felt the contradiction that people were fasting for religious purpose, yet they seemed to be using it as an excuse to get aggravated and relieve frustrations.

I think that is all I wanted to discuss. If you have questions about Ramadan, let me know (email me or skype, I have internet now). I learned so much in the past month about Ramadan and the religion itself. It was a great experience to be in an Islamic country during the holy month.

Much Love,
Me

Current Book: 1491 – Charles Mann
Current Music: Kid Cudi – Man on the Moon at the End of the Day

Fasting, and Breaking Fast (Part 2)

2009-09-02T11:26:00.000-05:00

The food of Ramadan is completely different then I have had before coming to Morocco. While I had technically had eaten everything that is served during Ramadan while I have been in Morocco, I had yet to eat them all at the same meal. So here are the typical foods and drinks for breaking fast.

Coffee/Tea – Drank throughout the meal. Coffee basically is hot milk topped off with a bit of coffee. Tea (and coffee) is typical for Moroccan breakfasts and tea times.

Water – Self-explanatory; after fasting all day, it is important to drink water. However, common misinformation in Morocco has it that you need to drink tea/coffee first. Not sure exactly the story behind this bit.

Dates – Usually, dates are the first thing eaten when the call to prayer goes off in the evening. Morocco is famous for dates, and they are quite good.

Shabekiya – These are the cookies/pastries eaten during Ramadan. It is a mix of almond, anise, butter, and flour and sugar (probably other things as well, but I forget off hand). Cut out and folded, and then fried. After frying, it is dipped immediately into a pot of honey. Then it is taken out, sprinkled with sesame seeds, and cooled. The honey soaks into some of the pastry, making it super sweet.

Eggs – Hard Boiled eggs, either eaten on their own with a pinch of cumin and salt, or else mixed in with the Harira (soup).

Harira – Traditional Ramadan soup, a semi-spicy tomato based soup with small bits of meat, pasta, chick peas, lentils added for some good protein. Usually 2-3 bowls are eaten by people while breaking fast.

Smeeta – This is a dry almond blend, similar to what is in Shabekiya (other than flour and butter). Also eaten at the various celebrations in Morocco and during tea times.

Fat Bread – Yes, it is what is sounds like… I am not sure exactly how it is made, but basically bread that is stuffed with a mix of fat, vegetables, and spices. Reminds me of what a calzone would be like minus the sauce and the meat. Even though it sounds odd, it is fantastic.
Desert – This is the American’s addition to breaking fast. I typically eat with my site-mate, and she makes a mean desert. So sometimes she/we will cook things like apple turnovers, or a pineapple upside down cake, and bring them along. The host family enjoys them, and it is a good way to show them typical American dishes.

So overall, it may seem like a lot of little things, but you basically stuff your face and stomach. After your stomach has contracted all day and you are dehydrated, you stuff yourself until you are uncomfortable. You have a lack of calories and nutrients, and all of the sudden your body is forced to digest. It basically results in a food coma that leaves you feeling out of it for a while, and uncomfortable. I will add that typically, Moroccans also eat a dinner around 1-2am (typical Tajine type dish), before going off to sleep. I pass on that, and just break fast, and then later eat some fruit before I go off to bed. Recently grapes and figs have been the fruits of choice.

I think that basically covers the food potion of Ramadan. In my last part of this Ramadan series, I am going to discuss my thoughts about Ramadan, and the sorts of things that I see and hear around my village.

Much Love,
Me!

Fasting, and Breaking Fast (Part 1)

2009-08-31T08:37:00.000-05:00

I hope that this post finds you doing very well, and enjoying the lovely end of summer, wherever you may be. I miss you all, and hope that I will hear from you soon. Life here for me is going well, with work, with my house, AND my new kitten! She is 10 weeks old, and is gray with black tiger stripes, and white patches here and there. I will post pictures at some point, probably when I can get internet at my house (soon I hope). But onto the subject!

Right now it is the holy month of Ramadan. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Ramadan, it is the 9th month of the Islamic calendar (Islamic calendar is based upon Lunar cycles). In the religion of Islam, this month is considered the holiest, and from sunrise to sunset, all believers fast on everything. Foods, water/drinks, and sex, are all things that believers fast from.

The reason for fasting is that it is a way to purify oneself from any sin committed during the previous 11 months. It is also a way for a person to feel and know what it is like to be a needy person, who does not have access to food and water, and is suffering. There are certain exceptions to fasting, such as children, sick/diabetic, and pregnant or new mothers. However, technically, any day not fasted needs to be made up a time later if that is possible (like pregnant women and not permanently sick).

Life in Morocco (and any Islamic country) changes during the holy month. Let me take you through a typical day for me during Ramadan. In my next post, I will discuss the different foods that I eat on a typical day breaking fast.

I usually wake up 4am each day, and drink a glass of water. The reason for this is that fast begins at sunrise, which for me is 4:25am. So I need to have any food or water for the day at this time. Then I go back to sleep for a few more hours.

Around 8 or 9am, I wake up for the day. Since I am not eating or drinking, I brush my teeth, making sure not to swallow any water and break my fast. I then spend my morning reading, writing, or just relaxing. Around town, everyone is still asleep, and all the cafes and stores are closed.

I continue to relax, get some work done, watch a show or play cards on my computer until about 2pm. This is the time when stores start to open, and I can go to the cyber-café to check-email. Most stores are still closed, and most people stay indoors. Remember folks, it is August, and it is pretty hot and dry here. Being outside and walking through town during the day drains you and you become thirsty, and not having any calories leaves you in a haze as the day goes on. So relaxing is key.

After I spent some time at the cyber (2-3 times a week), I walk home, and see more and more stores that are opening. Venders are selling fruits and juices and cookies and dates on the street, and the town is starting to get lively. I stop and talk to a few people, and buy some eggs to boil for later. I go home and relax for a bit, before hard-boiling eggs.

At about 6:15pm, I walk with my site-mate to a host family in the village, and we are going to break fast here after the evening call to prayer. Around 7pm, the call to prayer goes off (sunset), and we can break fast. I will discuss foods in depth later. During this time, we watch television from Mecca, and watch the thousands of people praying after making the pilgrimage to Mecca. It is fascinating to watch all of the people, and luckily there are subtitles of the prayers in English, so I can read what is being said. I sit and break fast with a host family, and they are so great company and so nice. We talk, and at about 8:15, my site mate and I leave to go back home, saying hello to friends and other townsfolk along the way.

After getting home, I am completely full of food. I feel like I am in a food coma, after not eating all day and then gorging myself. Sometimes I watch a show with my site-mate, other times I just relax and continue to rehydrate. Rehydrating is difficult, because you are also full of food. I spend the rest of my evening relaxing, and eating some fruits and rehydrating. At about midnight, I go to sleep for 4 hours, where I then wake up and do it all again. This routine can switch a little bit, depending on if friends are in town or I have to meet a friend for tea or coffee.

In my next post, I will discuss the culture of food associated with Ramadan, and how people typically break their fast. In the third post, I will discuss my thoughts on Ramadan as a whole, and the culture of people during Ramadan. So keep reading, and let me know if you have any questions.

Book of the Moment: “1491” Charles Mann
Album of the Moment: Simian Mobile Disco - “Temporary Pleasures”

Much Love,
Me!

Finally Back Home! After one whole month!

2009-08-26T08:48:00.000-05:00

So I spent the last month out of my site, and finally, I am home again. To recap, I spent the first two weeks at a training in order to learn more about our Environmental Sector’s framework, and some guidance on ways we can get assistance and grants. I also spent the two weeks catching up with faces that I had not seen since we swore in at the end of April. Most importantly, the training allowed me to get some clarity on the projects that I intend to be focusing on during my time here in Morocco.

After training was over, I spend the better part of two weeks teaching at a summer camp for kids between the ages of 6-14. There were 6 of us PCVs that were involved in the summer camp, and we taught environmental education, geography, and English. I was teaching English, along with another PCV. Teaching went well, even though it is difficult to teach to a vast age difference (they did not group by age), and then teaching English to some kids who had not been to primary school yet, or had just spent a year at primary school.

In English, we taught all sorts of things like greetings, body parts, the alphabet, and seasons, along with other random environmental terms (like tree, air, sun etc.) It was Basic English, and it was kind of crazy to be teaching English in Tamazight and Darija, but also using my French as guidance.

Our job as PCVs was to teach. In addition, we helped out with activities, and bonded with the kids. The kids were so great, and made everything worth it. It was a good chance to use our languages we had learned both in teaching, and just interacting with the kids. I had initially expected all the kids to know my language, Tamazight, but this was not the case. So I learned some good Darija words and phrases over the time, and this was also a good way to bond with the kids.

Overall, the camp was a success. The most important thing was that the kids had a good time. In addition to the classes that they were doing for 2 hours each day, the kids were doing arts and crafts, various environmental activities, and various group activities and games.

While there were some hitches and miscommunications between the way the PCVs thought things should be and the way the directors of the camp had wanted it to be, this was kept mainly in the background, so that the kids could not see it.

The camp was a good learning experience as well for me. I was able to see the planning stages of the camp, and see how this actually played out. All of the PCVs learned ways that we could improve the camp for next year, and have a better oversight of the camp, so that the things discussed in planning could actually be implemented in the camp. In addition, I am probably going to be trying to start a small day camp next year myself, and so this information is even more valuable.

Camp and training were both really draining, and so after camp was over I took advantage of a 4 day weekend (due to Moroccan Holidays) and took off with a group of friends to the city of Chefchouen, in the northern part of the country, and in the Rif Mountains. The goal was to have a relaxing trip, just hanging out in the city. That is exactly what happened.

I will attempt to describe Chefchouen Medina (old city). Picture a maze of small narrow streets (more like alleys) with all sorts of shops lining each side. Artisanal shops, general stores, clothing stores, restaurants, and fruit stands. Now picture all the buildings and doors painted a fantastic glacial blue color, with hints of purple. This is Chefchouen, at least the old part of the city. It is a gorgeous place, and sits on the side of the mountain. Luckily, the place we stayed had a rooftop terrace, and you could go and look up at the mountains, or look over the city of blue.

In terms of people, it is quite a touristy city, and sadly I got hassled more than I have been hassled (even in Fes!!!) in Morocco. But it is high tourist season, and there were so many tourists, from all over the world. The people watching was incredible, and a lot of the time we sat at cafes in the main square playing cards (a sweet game called judgment) and just having coffee or soda, and watched the people. Chefchouen has a reputation as a hippie town (due to its location in the Rif Mountains, and what is associated with the Rif), so we saw multiples of dreadlocks, and hippies. In addition though, we saw everyday people, and even families that came to Chefchouen. It is a great place for all. I really urge you to look up pictures of Chefchouen, so that you can see the stunning blue that I am talking about.

Other than relaxing at cafes, and eating good food (goat cheese in particular), I did some shopping, and Chefchouen is known for wool goods like hats, socks, and hooded wool sweaters. I bought some wool socks and a scarf for the winter, at a good price. The artisanal goods were very beautiful as well.

At the end of our time in Chefchouen, the holy month of Ramadan began. So on Sunday, I fasted while I was returning to my site. I am now back in my village, and will be discussing Ramadan hopefully in depth soon. I am glad to be experiencing the Holy Month of Ramadan in an Islamic country, and it has given me insights into the culture of the people and the religion of the people. I shall be posting regularly now again!

Book of the Time: John Steinbeck –“The Winter of our Discontent”
Album of the Time: Calvin Harris – “Ready for the Weekend” (New album from Calvin Harris, and definitely worth a listen if you are into dance type music)

Much Love!
Eric

A Bit of Culture… eh?

2009-07-19T07:25:00.001-05:00

I have told you many personal stories, that is fine and dandy. I have so many more, but I wanted to write about some culture type stuff as well, and I feel I have neglected you by not discussing this aspect.

Specifically, I wanted to talk about celebrations and ceremonies that take place for a family. I will try to be as organized as possible about this, and keep it simple. In Morocco, there are really generally four (maybe five) occasions that are celebrated. I will first discuss each individual occasion, and then I will discuss how and what occurs during the celebration. Luckily, the “what occurs during” is generally the same for all the occasions. So this allows me to break-out into really specific details.

Using the timeline of an individual life, I can break the events down pretty easy, so lets kick it:

Birth: This event is supposed to (according to tradition) take place 7 days after the birth of a child. The time varies, especially when a child is born early, and family has to travel from far around to the celebration. (I have also seen three weeks as well). This is a one or two day event.

Circumcision: For boys, obviously (maybe not so obvious, but I do know that Morocco is a country that does not have an issue with female circumcision, which is completely inhumane.) This event occurs at varying times, I am still not sure, generally around 4 years old. As I said, it varies depending on the family, and probably the money to have the celebration. This is a one day event.

Engagement/Marriage: I broke this off into a separate category (hence the four or five). I do not think that every family has separate engagement and marriage celebrations, but it does occur, especially when family is spread apart, and marriage does not take place during the typical marriage season (my host family for instance has done this recently.) Marriage Season usually is in the summer, between late May and August. This is a multi-day event.

Funeral: This is the final stage in life, and there is a mourning/celebration for the family. While much more somber than those above, it is still a gathering of relatives and family. A few points comparing between the states: A body is typically buried the day of or day after the death. While this is cultural, I think this stems from decomposition and health issues arising with dead/decaying bodies. Generally in rural areas, the family can be there within a day, so they can take part as well (*unlike in the states, where arrangements have to be made and it can be a week sometimes.)

So those are the four/five occasions that are celebrated within families. Now I will discuss the general setup of the celebrations, and what takes place. There are a few variables to keep in mind as I delve into this:

1.Conservative vs. Liberal – Conservative families separate the men and the women for celebrations, liberal families may have some or all of it together.

2.Close Family vs. Friends - Depending on the people are close family, they may keep it all together. If many friends and towns-people are attending, they may separate the sexes.

Guests at a celebration bring gifts. The most typical gift is a cone of sugar, or a bag of sugar. Money is also a typical and accepted gift. For a baby, some baby clothes can be typical as well.

When you arrive at the party, you (like anytime going into a house) greet the family, and tell them congrats for the event (maybe not the funeral…). You give them your gift, and then they show you into your respective room. I will discuss each of those rooms now.

If you are showed into the men’s room, you usually are in a nice communal room, and you sit down, and just talk with those around you. As more and more people show up, there is more and more talking. When the family deems the room is full, they start with the drinks/food.

I will step back for a minute to make some very important observations. In a communal room of men, depending on the size of the village, you may know all of the men, or just some of the men. There are religious Imams that attend (to lead the prayers), and there are important townspeople as well. With the men (As it is many times) this is very political. This is an opportunity to discuss important town events, gossip, and to “be seen.” So as people are coming into the room, they are invited or just sit by their friends, or they invite important people to sit by them. It truly is very political.

So now that everyone is in the room, the family designates one or two people (depending on the size of the party) to be tea pourers/makers for the men. These are ALWAYS respected and/or important people in the community. Usually there is a refusal at first, and other people are suggested. People try to be humble about it, but it is an honor to be asked to make and pour tea. Then before tea is poured for everyone, the Imams lead the group in a blessing.

After this, there are two rounds of tea. Same person pours, and blessings are said again. Then, it is time to eat. Tables are brought in, and then there are usually two or three courses, followed by a fruit dessert.

The first dish usually consists of mostly meat, usually the sheep that was slaughtered for the event. After this dish (sometimes two meat dishes) couscous is served as the final dish. There are variations of all of the dishes (how meat is prepared, how couscous it served.) but this is the general layout. There is a dessert of melon, which is in season during the summer months. Oh yeah, and this is another HUGE point. The men ALWAYS eat first before the women. The women are not allowed to eat before the men. Another point, the family does all of the serving the guests. Depending on how big the celebration is, the extended family does as well (and men serve the men, and both men and women serve the women). If it is close family, usually just the women serve and clean. After this is finished, there is another round of prayers/blessings for the event, and then tea is served. After the final tea, men are free to go.

If you are ushered into the woman’s room, you usually enter to loud music and dancing. Women dress up in their nicest djellabas (men do not usually.) There is a drum music, and sometimes pipe music as well. The women who wish to dance (At first, all of them) dance in a circle, and they chant various verses that are made up by the leader (maybe a hired musician, or family members). Women also let their hair down and twirl it around, and belly-dance as well. As I said, men are not typically aloud, as this is very risqué for the culture. This dancing goes on for hours sometimes (the men are eating). After the men finish eating, the women may or may not have tea, and then they are aloud to eat. They eat the same types of foods as the men. After eating, the women sometimes can go, or sometimes they get back together and dance some more. Sometimes, it is all of the family and super close friends dancing and celebrating, and non-family men have left. This can go on for hours (sometimes all night.) Then at some point, people get tired, or just stop.

This is the general way that everything is celebrated here. The only variation is the marriage celebration, where there is a procession of the bride and groom, and there are all sorts of gifts that are given and celebrated by the family. Typically, dates (the fruits) and various candies and foods are given for the husband/wife. Also, they drink from a glass of milk (and each serves the other by putting the glass to the lips of the other.) There is no kissing (that would be shameful), nor hand holding. The Bride and the Groom wear white outfits. Also, the tradition of the “morning after” blood on the sheet still occurs sometimes. Sometimes, it is just chicken blood. Henna is also used in most occasions, for the women. I have known of celebrations for marriage that have occurred for five days, where the first nights are for family, and the last two nights being first for men from outside the family, then the final night for mostly women (some men too), and the final night also having the large processional parade (of walking, then driving cars and honking horns).

I believe this covers the general types of celebrations and what occurs at the celebrations. I have been to all so far but a funeral, and it is really interesting to observe so many social and political aspects of the men’s side, and then the fun of the women’s side. Sometimes, the drum beats and chants gets too repetitive (it can last like 5 hours), but it is still great to see and interact with the family. I also must point this out. As a foreigner, myself and other volunteers get treated more like family then just friends. We usually are free to be with the men (unless you are a woman) and also with the family dancing (we are not viewed as preying upon the women). If there are many volunteers present (only occurs in training settings) we can eat together (men and women volunteers) at our own table. We sort of get special treatment in these situations, party because usually a volunteer is in the family. Sometimes we also help serve the men and the women, and help with the set-up. This is appreciated by the family (usually a host family).

I hope this gives you an insight on the celebrations of the culture, and you can use it to compare with the way we celebrate various occasions in certain religions or cultural settings. If you have questions or need more clarification, email me or comment on the post. Hope that you are all doing well, and talk to you soon!

Book of the Moment: Jared Diamond – “Collapse”
Album of the Moment: Eddie Vedder – “Into the Wild” Sountrack

Much Love!
Eric

The Good Things about Life

2009-07-12T11:29:00.000-05:00

I promise that there are good things that happen here. I most certainly do not wish my blog to be a receptacle of sad and frustrating stories. So I am going to tell you now about a good day, a series of events that make me happy that I am here in Morocco, and talk about the good side of the people that I live near. This story is from a week ago, and I will try to recall the events with the same reflective nature that I initially felt.

I woke up feeling happy and refreshed. I was somewhat sad to be leaving my fellow friends. I had just spent a weekend visiting some other PCVs on the other side of the park that I live near. We had been celebrating a number of things. First, there were the birthdays, one actual birthday, and a half-birthday. I mean, Yes, it needed to be celebrated. Also we were celebrating the birthday of our country, and celebrating the Fourth of July. I firmly believe that holidays are best celebrated outside of the country for which they are held. You have a firm belief in them, and you certainly cherish the celebration and the comradery. I mean, we technically are all employed by the government, so this is a reason we are able to come here.

The celebration consisted of making pizza, and garlic sticks. I was pleased that my year of employment at Papa Johns gave me incredible pizza making skills. After we ate lemon bars, apple pie, and carrot cake to top it all off. There were about 11 of us there, and we just hung out and chatted. But I am digressing from the day I wish to discuss.

SO, as I said, I woke up happy, but wishing that I could stay in my bed. But I had a long trip ahead of me, and I needed to go out to the road early in order to take transit that could leave at anytime. I headed out, and went to the road to wait. I sat there for a while, and some other folks were waiting there for the transit as well.

Two hours pass, and about this time, it is beginning to get hot, and I am trying to stay in the shade. I start talking to a guy, and we go through the typical conversation, where are you from, what do you do here, where do you live, where are you going, and the always present question… are you married??? It was a good conversation, and as I said, very typical. It was nice to chat with someone, but at this point I have to use the bathroom (I think I have a parasite by the way), so I do that business. I come back out to the road and the man is gone, and there are more people waiting for the same transit that I am.

Two more hours pass, and it is noon (you probably are wondering why this is a happy story). I am getting impatient, and my decision on route of getting home is being questioned over and over in my mind. But it was too late, I had committed, so I was in it for better or worse. I then talk to the same guy again, and he tells me to come and have some tea with him and another man. He introduces me to the man, who is waiting as well for this transit.

During this time, a car (looks like a taxi) pulls up, and people ask the guy where he is going, and he says no where (I think… maybe he said, not for a while). But as I sitting there having tea, the car owner gets red paint, and paints a taxi ID on the back of his car (all taxis have to have them or they are illegal). But I found this humorous, but knew this guy was going somewhere soon. The guy I am sitting with calls the driver over, and basically reserves me and the other guy at our table a place in the taxi. This is a good thing, as about this time there were 15 people trying to get 6 spots. So I lucked out, probably because I was a foreigner, and spoke the language (it happens sometimes here, it is what we refer to as “rock star status”).

So luckily (or not) I get a spot in the taxi. The trip is a few hours, and I now know I can make it back to my site and my own home. I originally wanted to be back by noon, in order to make it to my weekly souq and buy the vegetables and fruits that I would need.

I enjoy the ride in the taxi immensely. I am driving through incredible mountain scenery. I know a fair bit about geology and forms, and the mountains have all sorts of textbook examples of thrust faults, layers, and folding. It is barren, so it just sticks out everywhere. Very few trees exist (maybe 1-2 per square mile IF that), so I am able to just take in the curvy rugged mountains, and really appreciate the geology that they contain.

In addition to the pretty sites, we drive through flocks of sheep and shepherds just lying on the ground napping. Sheep take care of themselves here, and the shepherds have to watch their flocks, but not so closely. There are not any big predators (they were all killed off over the past 100 years… think cats and lions and jackals and hyenas) so the sheep just graze. The shepherd gets them in at the end of the day. There are flocks of sheep in the road, and we have to stop for a minute because the sheep are refusing to move.

We go through several mountain villages, and people outside working their fields look up to see if they know who is in the taxi. I can only imagine how isolated yet amazing living in a place like this would be. We finally get to our destination, and rather than just go on my own, the friend I made before the taxi ride wants to have a drink (coffee/coke). I am kind of in a hurry, so he shows me/helps me to see if there are any taxis, and there are not. I have to go from this town to the main road and catch a bus. I have no idea how far the main road is (remember this!!) and he suggests that I take a transit to the main road. However, I do not wish to wait the one hour for this transit. So I start off on my own.

I walk up the hill, and in the distance there is thunder and rain. I hope that this rain is not intended for me. I run into a few people, and talk to them, and they ask where I am going. I tell them I am going to the main road to catch a bus. They say to me “It is far!! to the road.” I ask how far, and the man says 5-6km. I think to myself that this is not too far, and so I will walk it. So I begin on my way. As I go, a car passes, and half-heartedly I wave it down, so I could ask the guy a question. We talk for a minute, he seems like a good guy, and tells me he will take me. So I get in, and we are off.

We have a great conversation, and my new friend speaks English as well as Spanish. He actually mistakes me for being Spanish (I get this often, almost daily, probably because of my hair). He tells me he has lived in Spain working, and due to the economic situation, he is unemployed. Like a said, great guy, nice, and we have a great conversation. We talk about family, what I am doing here, and what he does in Spain and back here. He is around my age, a few years older actually, so we relate pretty well (except I am not married with a child!)

As I get into the car first, I take note of the odometer to see how many kilometers it is to the main road. In fact, it is not 5-6km, it is 25km. I would have walked all day and not made it, and I met a really nice guy. He tells me he will drop me off at the main road, he has to take care of some business in Khenifra, the big city nearby. We get to the main road, and the guy wants to have tea, which I definitely say yes to. He apologizes to me for not being able to take me further, and if he did not have business, he would take me. He promises to call me to make sure I have made it home okay. He goes on his way. I am certainly grateful for this man.

One of the conversations we have is about the friendly, open, welcoming nature of Moroccans. Having lived in Spain, this guy knows that people are cold to strangers, and will not be willing to help out. He says that I am welcome and he should give me a lift. He also invites me to tell him if I am around his area, and he will have me for dinner and to meet his family. This is Moroccan hospitality right here, and it is one of the things I hope to bring back with me. I have grown to dislike “business first” mentality, and it actually turns me off. I want to know about people first, about their family, about their interesting lives, before I get down to business. I reciprocate this man’s offer by telling him he is more than welcome to come and visit, and hang out. I do not do it just to be nice, I truly mean it, and actually hope he comes and visits. I can only hope to give him the same welcome and hospitality as he has given me.

So now I wait for a bus to come. I spill my water on me, and chuckle about it. I am sitting at a basic bus/thru stop, with a few cafes and a few stores. A bus finally comes, and the man who gets out asks me where I am going. I tell him, and he tells me there are no seats. I get worried for a minute, as some busses will not let you stand. I tell the guy I do not care, I just need to go. He is happy, and very friendly. My good string of luck continues, and I stand on the bus for a while until the next stop, and then grab a newly opened seat. I complete my journey by catching my final taxi back to my site. I am happy to be home, but extremely happy with the events of the day.

In every place there are good people, and in every place there are a few bad ones. But days like this where I feel welcome as a visitor, and people try to help me and talk to me just make me happy. I am sure part of it has to do with the fact I feel totally accustomed to living here, getting around, and talking to complete strangers. To be honest, there are people of high importance (sheiks, moqqadems, council people) that I see daily, that would easily pass for homeless and poor in the states. If appearance is everything so often in the states, this is almost the exact opposite. I am not saying that it is okay to have poor hygiene, but being here gives one a new perspective on the way people “appear” to be like.

Current Book - "The Red Pony" John Steinbeck
Current Album - Elvis Costello - "10 years" (kind of like greatest hits)

Much Love,
Me!

Oh Kids, and Cats, and Houses

2009-07-06T06:25:00.000-05:00

Hello Again Everyone

I hope that everyone back home is doing well. Despite what you read and may think in this post, I am doing quite well. I just had a not great thing happen, and it was not fun at the time, but it was a good learning experience. What is that you ask?? Here is the story, I will try to be as succinct as I can be.

I was standing the other day talking with a local guy that I usually talk with. He owns a chicken shop, and I was talking with him, and there were about 4 other people there with us. I was facing the back of the shop, and there were two people in front of me. There were two people behind me.

So as I am having this conversation, I feel something on my back-pack (on my back) moving. I quickly turn around, and find that the small compartment has been opened. At the same time I turn around, the kid (12-13 years old) turns and runs away. I walk out of the shop to see where he goes, and then I make sure that I have everything… which luckily I did.

I am pretty flustered by now, and I don’t totally know what to do. I want to find this bonehead kid, but know he is long gone. So I leave, and go to see my site-mate, to see if she is around for her advice. She is not home, so I text her and go back towards the chicken-shop. I stop and talk to a few people, trying to be as normal as possible, and then from the corner of my eye I see the kid back in the chicken shop. I sneak up behind him, so he does not see me, and then when he turns around, I start talking to him.

Now a lot happened in a short time. About the time I start talking to him (actually I was being firm and probably yelling) he is kind of cowering in this corner that I backed him into, as if I am going to lay into him and beat him up (which crossed my mind, but I know better.) I am yelling at him “Where are your parents?!?!?” repeatedly. I get this out about three times, and the chicken-shop owner, afraid that I was going to hit him, tries to get in the middle to make sure this does not happen. The kid/boy/thief took the opportunity and ran away again.

I then told the other people there that I was not going to hit him, and talked to them for a little. I left, walked around, talked to my site-mate, who then gave me a bit of advice, and I went back to the shop and had a few questions for people.

I mainly wanted to know where this kid’s parents lived, and also I wanted to ask if any of them saw anything happen. So I go back to the chicken-shop, and ask what they saw. All four of the people tell me they saw nothing happen. I understand the two people in front of me, one talking to me, the other working on getting a chicken ready. The two behind me also claimed they saw nothing. I completely did not believe them however, and so I told a couple of them that “God sees everything” and “may God cover your sins.” The reason I used these phrases is that the chicken-shop owner is very-religious, and has tried on occasion to discuss religion, something I do very rarely, even back home. I could tell by his reaction that he was hiding something, and this was frustrating.

I begin to ask the two people left in the shop where the kid’s parents were at, and told them that I needed to talk to them. I was told by one of them that it was no problem, and they would talk to the parents. I told him that would not work, and I was the one that needed to talk to them, and now. He said okay, and we would go sometime. I said that we needed to go now, and his response was again that he would go and talk to them. I could tell I was getting the run-around at this point. I then said that I either needed to see his parents right now, or else I had to go discuss the matter with the Gendarmes (Police). They both then asked what I was going to tell the parents (because they did not want to be viewed as an accessory), and I knew I was beat. My language, while good enough to this point, is not good enough to pick out the exact words I would need for the situation. I was frustrated, but then decided that I would get my host brother to come and help, since he is also fluent in English. Like I said I was getting the run-around big time.

So I get my host brother, and we get back to the shop, and this time the kid is there. I approach him and start asking him “why?!?” The kid looks like he wants to cry and scared all at the same time. He tells me he was “just playing,” and he is sorry. I explain to him that I will never trust him again and that I will always view him as a thief. He tells me he is not a thief, and apologizes again. I also ask him why he ran both times earlier, and did not apologize at those times. He tell me he was scared, and thought I would hit him. I tell him that I came to Morocco to help people, and told him “why should I help people here if they do things like this to me?” The kid just looked down at the ground and apologized again. I told him it was finished, but I would not trust him again, and we parted. I them talked to the chicken-shop owner via translation about how no-one saw anything happen. So that is the story. In the end I was glad I talked face to face with the kid, because if I had talked to his parents or the Gendarmes he would have been beaten. I did not want that to happen.

The most frustrating parts for me are the following:
1. How everyone said they saw nothing happen.
2. How no-one seemed to want to help me, and instead gave me the run around.

If you look back at my post about the sheep, once again, people tend to just turn away and pretend to be blind to things that occur. They feel that it is better for them to stay out of peoples business than to get involved, even though they should help out other people. There is a sad learned helplessness that seems to be prevalent here, and it is frustrating to deal with, whether it is about safety, or whether it is about the environment.
After all was over, I talked with my host brother, who tried to explain to me that this is the way that people here in Morocco can be. I already knew what he was talking about, due to the sheep situation, and also another similar story from another volunteer. My host brother said that people are like that here, and that it is bad. To me it is so frustrating that people can be like this, whether it is here or in America (yes this can happen in some places in America as well). I learned a fair bit from the experience, more about people here than anything. It was not so much the actual kid opening my back that was the worst part, it was everything in the middle that made it ultra-frustrating and annoying.

I will leave you with some happy stuff. I have now moved into my own house, and this is exciting. I am now looking for another cat, as I was told (not to my surprise) that the cat is now accustomed to the place where it has been. But I have a cat in mind, and so I will have a cat within a few days. I also had a great weekend, saw some other volunteers, and am excited about work prospects. Much love to you all and I hope to hear from you soon. Despite this not so happy story, I am incredibly happy and love the people here. I just understand that like all people, they have their shortcomings once in a while.

Album of Choice – Ratatat - “Classics”
Book currently reading - “Life of Pi” – Yann Martel

Much Love! (Expect pictures soon)

The Sheep Distribution

2009-06-24T06:08:00.001-05:00

I continue on my animal postings, but this time with a slightly more serious topic. This is also my first touchy subject that I have dealt with in my writings and keeping people informed. As I have stated before, this blog is my own opinion, and not the opinion of Peace Corps in any way. I do not believe I will offend people, nor do I want to give a one sided opinion. So I will try as always to show the whole picture (Wow I sound like a news agency or something).

So recently in my village, there have been sheep being distributed for local residents. This sheep distribution has been backed by an agency which may be governmental or may be non-governmental. Basically the agency deals with farming, and farm animals. So, this agency has been given funding to purchase sheep, and give them to local people. Each family is supposed to receive three sheep. Altogether, after talking with the person in charge, there were 5000 sheep given out to the families. If I do the quick math, my village has 8000 men, women and children. So basically 5000 sheep means 1667 families were receiving three sheep. So who knows if each and every family received sheep, that is debatable, especially with the reactions that I witnessed. More on this later…

So you wonder about the purpose of this distribution. I believe that is fairly simple to figure out. A man here told me that having sheep is like a bank investment. When you need money, you sell a sheep to get that money. If you do not need money, you keep the sheep, raise it, potentially have more sheep, and then sell if, potentially making profit. So receiving three sheep really helps a family out. In fact, on the surface, this is a great thing. Basically it is akin to getting money passed out, or getting a government surplus check right into your pocket. This year is also a good year for sheep, due to ample grass and weeds to eat, and sheep are more expensive. So if families will sell these sheep, they would make more money in a drought year where sheep are inexpensive. However, I repeat and emphasize the words “on the surface.”

I am an environment volunteer, this is true. One of the goals of Peace Corps is to provide technical assistance to the people with whom I work. Environmentally the area I live suffers from a number of environmental problems. Two of these problems, deforestation and overgrazing, go hand in hand, and basically walk down the street holding hands (which is a “Schuma” or shame in this culture to do).

Deforestation is an issue for many reasons, and also a touchy issue. Wood is used as fuel for heat in the winters, and cooking as well. So cutting down trees needs to occur, and even I purchase fuel wood for the harsh winters that apparently occur in my village. The key word here is sustainable use of wood. Currently, the rate at which the local wood is being used is not equal to the rate at which the wood is being replenished. Even now some villages run out of wood in the winter. Also illegal cutting of protected wood still occurs, and is difficult if impossible to really enforce. Altogether, wood prices go through the roof in the winter… so buy your wood now kids.

Overgrazing is also a problem. One reason is that Morocco is public lands, so grazing occurs anywhere that food is available. Sheep really enjoy eating grasses and weeds, and also tree limbs, when they get cut down. In addition, saplings (baby trees) make an incredible food source. But, when all the public land saplings get eaten, no trees become replenished, and you add to the problem of deforestation. This is already occurring in portions of the area.

The short-sightedness of this sheep distribution is what bothers me. There are many implications of this distribution. Five years or ten years down the line, there may be very little wood, and it will be very expensive. So what looks to be a great investment by having free sheep given to you (basically money in the pocket), will come back and take all of your profits away in the long term, and may even make you poorer, and certainly will not help to replenish the environment. Sadly, in the discussions I have had with locals, they do not totally understand this, and are confused as to why I would ever be against a free sheep distribution. In fact, people jokingly asked me why I did not get free sheep, and my reply was that I did not want them, because they eat all of the weeds and trees. Faces were funny to see. (Oh and an aside, the reason I was at this distribution is that I was helping my host family get their sheep. So I was carrying a few sheep, and making sure they did not get away.)

Sure the agency was an agricultural agency. That may not mean much to you, so let me explain. In Morocco, the government has ministries, basically departments. One of these is The Ministry of Agriculture. There is no ministry of environment, just an agency that does not have the same power as the Ministry of Agriculture and certainly these two bodies do not work much with each other, as Agriculture is about the money, not protecting the environment. So I am assuming this agency did not have any sort of foresight into potential harm of giving sheep out. But hey, what the issue in giving only 5000 sheep out to further degrade the land… people here already complain enough about lack of wood, and blowing dust (due to no plants holding the soil). Sorry, this was my sarcasm creeping into my writing.

While 5000 sheep can be pretty rough, I think the worst part about the distribution was the “Free-for-all” mentality that occurred. Moroccans have a very difficult time standing in lines and waiting their turn (this is an extreme understatement.) In fact, when sheep distributions were occurring earlier this week for other parts of the village, people felt slighted, and wondered why those people got their sheep first. So when it was time to get the sheep, I saw the bad side of human nature. There was arguing, shoving, fighting, people climbing on the trucks and helping themselves, and maybe other occurrences that I will not name here. It would have been so orderly and faster to wait. In fact the local police came to make sure things were sorted out right. It was hot, and tempers were firing. I could not believe it, and really you would think that this was a water truck going to a community that did not have clean water. But it was sheep. It was money. People do crazy things for a few bucks (even if in the end it makes them poorer.)

During the moment I had some conversations with local people that I know well enough. At one point, a man came up to me and asked, “What do you say?” In my reply I said, “I don’t know.” He them changed to English, which he knows very little, and stated “This is Morocco.” It is a cliché statement, but so profound. It makes me realize that helping people with environmental issues will be a large battle. I knew that it would be, but this was kind of a wake up call, and a show that people can be downright nasty in situations such as this.

I suppose that is all I have on this. I hope this was informative, and not too dry. Word.

Album of the Moment – Radiohead - “Kid A”
Book of the moment – John Steinbeck - “East of Eden

Much Love,
Me!

PS. If you want to send me mail, ask me or my parents for my address. And if you have more topics for me to cover, let me know. Also you can email me by taking part of this web address (my name) @hotmail.com . Sorry for being cryptic about it, but spam happens, and this is a way not to get spam so people cannot copy and paste.

The Running of the Cows

2009-06-22T06:15:00.001-05:00

For some strange reason, this is my favorite part of the day. That is, when I am able to witness the occurrence.

The first time I witnessed these shenanigans was while I was sitting outside my host-brothers shop. I was about to walk home, and along the main street plodded two large heifers (sorry if that is an incorrect usage of the word). I was kind of dumbfounded that would just go along there merry way, not bothering anyone, and with no owner in sight. I figured that they had to be loose (as I have seen animals get here) and were just going to find greener pastures. I continue watching as the cow proceeds to turn down MY row, and continue on its confident way. All the while she is mooing as she goes. This cow has horns, and could easily take out a child or two along the way, maybe knock a guy off a bike, or dent a few cars. But nothing happens, no problems. I mean, the cars tend to slow down to stay out of the way, but generally the cow could care less.

Another day I was walking home from a hike with some fellow volunteers, and there were about seven of them in front of us, just wandering down the street. Some were turning off at random other streets, as if they knew the exact way home (I am not sure though). Some cows decided to get distracted by some tugwa (weeds/wildflowers) that had been gathered for other barn animals to eat, and stopped off for a snack. I knew this was wrong, so I stepped in and scared the cow away. While I am glad that the cow did not realize she was quite capable of charging me and mini-goring me (these cows have small horns), she just nonchalantly went on her way, and realized that she could not eat it.

I am utterly (Wow that is bad) amazed that the saying “Until the cows come home” actually exists in real life. It is my favorite part of the day, and it usually occurs between 5-7pm, when the sun is starting to go down. I am not of the farming background, but even though I have spend a bit of time of cattle farms, I have never seen cows parading everyday down a main street, and people just going about their business. I can now tell people (other Americans) here that I cannot meet “until the cows come home.”

I just had to share this will all of you folks and I only wish that you could see this occurring on the main street in the town where you live. Maybe for some of you country raised folks (my parents,) you can shed some light on this saying for me, and tell me if you have experienced it yourself.

Album of Choice: Karate- “Some Boots”
Book Currently Reading – “On the Road” –Jack Kerouac

Much Love,
Me!

Rain

2009-06-16T05:36:00.000-05:00

I had no idea what to title this post. Really, I tried to come up with something creative, but not too-cheesy. But I couldn’t, so I kept it simple.

Today was a prime example of a rainy day. Sometimes (today for instance), I cherish the rainy days. During my time here thus far, I have seen a few rainy days (think literal, however there have been some figurative ones as well). While they have been few, I believe that I will never view rain the same way. Here is my rationale:

In the states, I have grown up in the Midwest, and even the few times I have lived away from Ohio, I have lived I Europe (Luxembourg, Belgium), I have lived in spots that are blessed with an abundance of rain. I have come to take rain for granted, and at times (mainly in cold rainy Belgium winters) I have loathed it. There was always enough rain in the Midwest. Sometimes there was not enough rain; sometimes there was too much rain. But from what I understand, in my view of things, there was enough rain to meet my needs.

I have never lived out west, and I have never lived anywhere where shortage of water was an issue due to lack of rain (I have lived in places where overuse of water would eventually lead to problems.)

I now live in a semi-arid climate, where there is a rainy season from October-March. This rain/snow provides the ground, irrigation, and the drinking water for the summer dry season. While this past winter was exceptionally wet, there was a fairly severe drought up until this year (technically there is a drought still). While the rains and snow were severe and mud houses collapsed and there were floods (both of which sadly killed people), generally the rain was still a much appreciated and wanted gift. *Note, I will live in a mud house, and this is why I should and will shovel my roof in the event of show, which will occur in my winter.

Water is a precious resource. The abundance (or lack of) influences the way that the people operate. Some villages have had years of bad crops, no substantial water for drinking/bathing/washing clothes. In years of country wide droughts (see above) food prices increase due to economic principles of supply and demand. The people who are at the very core, the local farmers, having bad crops, cannot sell, and thus have no money to buy. It influences the amount of sheep that herders can purchase, because if there is no rain, there is no grass for your little sheep. So once again economics take over and the price of sheep increases because demand is up.

So think that in June, we have had an entire day of rain. In fact, we have had two days of at least some rain. While the temperature is cold today (think near the cloud base), and people still complain about the cold or the heat (everyone here is never the perfect temperature hehe,) people do not complain about the rain that comes with it. I hope in fact that this allows the harvests to go well, and for the fall crops of fruits and vegetables to be abundant, cheap, and of good quality. Really they already are cheap; they just will stay that way. It is good for everyone around.

Oh yeah, and here is a tidbit of information for you. Morocco, due to its unique location near Europe, and the varying climates it contains, is considered Europe’s “Bread Basket.” It produces 1/3 of the fruits/vegs that go to market throughout Europe. That is like saying that the country the size of the state of California produces 1/3 of the fruits/vegs for the rest of the US. So this increases the importance of the rain.

**While Morocco is that size, that includes the area known as Western Sahara, which for all intent and purpose is a desert, and produces very little. That is all I will say about Western Sahara region of Morocco**

Album of Choice: Phoenix -“Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix”

Cheers,
Me!

The Mountain Climb

2009-06-11T10:10:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, I decided that I wanted to climb one of the nearby mountains. I really wish I could just give you the name, but I cannot. The mountain is just south of my village. The peak is 3265 meters, and what that translates to into feet, I have no idea. Basically I think it is roughly 10500, though I may be off in either direction. My village sits about 1950 meters, or roughly 6000 feet. So I am going to describe the climb, and try to break it down into sections. I am not sure how long or far I hiked, but basically I started at 5am and got back at 12:30 in the afternoon.

Section 1 – The Road
Leaving at 5am in the morning, it was still dark. As dark as it can be with streetlights still on, and a pseudo full-moon hovering above like a parent hovering over a baby. There were people out on the streets, much more than I had expected, and some of them were noticeably intoxicated. I was still extremely groggy and so speaking and thinking in another language was difficult. However, I only had to exchange a few greetings with people, and I continued onwards. I had my doubts about leaving so early, as we have many pseudo wild-dogs that come out at night, hoping to find food. They tend to stay away from people, but then again, they are wild, and some may be sick. So dog bites are no uncommon. But luckily, no run in with dogs today, but I was loaded with a rock in hand just in case. I left the main section of town and all was quiet, no people, no dogs barking, just me. In fact it was eerily quiet. As I left town, there was a hint of dawn peeking around the horizon, just the type of light that makes it a lighter blue. The road continued onward for a little while, and I passed fields or wheat, and crossed over irrigation streams. Having only been this way once before in the daylight, I had difficulty finding the trail that I needed to take. I looked around, and for about 5 minutes thought I was following the road too long. I tip-toed across the stream and finally found the trail.

Section 2 – The Trail to the Cave
Happy that I had not wasted too much time trying to find the trail, I continued onward. The trail, like the road, was mainly flat; however it was uphill, but in a most gradual sort of way. The substrate was mainly a slate like gravel, as most of the land around is exposed and there is little topsoil. There were no large trees around, just shrubs and bushes and thorns. The trail winded along the path of a stream-bed, the stream having gone somewhere else to spend the summer. By now the sun light was creeping over the small mountain to the east, and things were a bit easier to see, and the light to the east was an orange-yellow. There were no clouds in the sky, and the stars were all but gone, having spent the night illuminating the sky and dancing with each other. About this time, I came into the flat lands; a valley of sorts between the mountains, and the trail met a road, and they continued together for a while. Along the path, fields of wheat were waving in the morning wind, and interspersed were pockets of yellow wildflowers and the occasional red poppy flower. I stopped for a few pictures of the sunrise, as it was quite nice, and continued along the way. I reached a small house, a family that I know from my town, and the man was outside in the fields doing some irrigation work. I stopped briefly and greeted him. Naturally he asked me if I wanted to have tea, and I told him that I would return later for tea (and of course I did!). It was at this point the road ended, and the trail began to go uphill. At this point you are at the edge of the foothills, and the mountain is breathing the wind of the morning from around. I followed the trail over a small series of cascades, until I reached the cave, and the pass and gateway to the mountain. On my left side the cave, a nice opening in the side of a cliff. While it is not very deep, it provides sleeping grounds to some shepherds, and the rare hiker. However, most local people believe spirits live in these caves, so they stay away. It is a good place to relax, see a good view, and take it all in.

Section 3 – The Ascent Part 1
At this point things have been relatively flat, gradual, and happy. That quickly changes though. At the point of the cave you are at about 7200 feet, so you do the math and quickly realize it is extremely uphill. While the tree line is probably 8500 feet, there are very few trees here, just small shrubs. The substrate changes from a fine slate rocky topsoil to bigger rocks of slate. I started to walk up, and quickly realized I need to follow the shrubs as much as possibly, because as I would step on barren places, I would be slipping on all of the slate rocks, and every step meant sliding back a little bit. I would see the occasional lizard wandering around as well, as the sun was fully on my back. It is a hot sun here in Morocco, and even though the breeze kept me cool, my head was baking due to my thick bunch of hair. I continued on this line, until I came to a point where the shrubs stopped, and there was just slate pieces blanketing the side of the mountain. At this point I was even with the little bit of snow left on portions of the mountain, and above the tree line. I found myself getting super-tired, and trying to catch my breath. I could tell the elevation was not allowing my body to get the oxygen it needed. So I took more breaks. I reached a cliff, and took a break, finishing this portion, and readied myself for the final ascent. I was at 9200 feet at this point.

Section 4 – Final Ascent
So from this point I had two choices, I could go straight up the bare face of the mountain, and struggle to keep my footing, sliding back down with each step, or I could go up the side, with the very small shrubs, and more stable rocks. I chose the latter. While this made each step more productive and conserved energy, the slope was a bit steeper for a while, and generally at that point you are at least at a 45 degree angle. I would take more frequent breaks, and play little games in my head as my legs (calves especially) were starting to rebel against me due to lacking normal oxygen. I would take 100 steps, and then stop to catch my breath. I kept looking back, and I was blessed with an amazing view. I could see for miles to the north, across the plateau and see the middle atlas range. I could see all the nearby villages, including my own, and it was crystal clear. The only this that was around me at this point were ravens, as they nested on some of the cliffs around. I was now into the shade again, and out of the wind. It was quite comfortable. I reached the ridge, and the slope decreased slightly, a hint that I was close to the top. I couldn’t see the other side, but the every so often the wind would whip around me. I made a last push to the top, and all of the sudden everything changed.

Section 5 – The Top
It was morning still, about 10am, and I believe this is what accounted for the wind being so fierce. I don’t think I have ever been in a wind that was so sustained. It was cold at the top, and the wind made it even colder. I quickly put on my gloves and fleece shirt. While I was at the top, I was not at the highest point yet. I would have to follow the ridge to the next peak, and the stack of rocks that every climber knows means “This is it: the very top”. I could see the extreme mountains to the south, and the even bigger peak to the east. I could see little towns to the south nestled in valleys between mammoth mountains. I climbed to the stack of rocks, and sat down behind it for a few minutes just eating some peanuts and drinking some water. I felt content with having accomplished my goal (after failing due to cold temps and no gloves before. I have bad circulation, so at high elevation there is greater effect, and I could not feel to climb, so it was unsafe I thought). It was so gorgeous at the top, and I could see sheep grazing near the cave, and the shepherds were shouting to them. At night shepherds sleep on the mountains, and you can see their fires alit in the dead of the night. I sat for about half an hour at the top before getting too cold to stay, but the feeling of serenity and peacefulness was great. Even though I had just climbed a large mountain, you feel so small when you see the world or a portion of the world from so high up. Descending was a bit tricky, as you kind of had to ski down the slate. It was also incredibly fun.

Adaptation

2009-05-31T10:19:00.000-05:00

As humans, we are incredibly complex. Everyone knows this, but I still must point this out. We have a very unique gift. While the word “gift” is not the word that my science and logical mind wants to use, I will still use it…but I will explain. Humans have evolved over time, as all species have, and naturally have adaptability to the various environments we choose to inhabit, to a point. The reason I use the word “gift” is because I feel privileged to be a human, and feel that this evolution has given us the gift of adaptability. Some people may say there is a higher power that has “blessed” us with that gift. That is perfectly alright if you wish to have that belief. I am just talking through my science and logical mind.

For example, I came to Morocco having no language except a small, mostly unusable piece of French. Almost immediately, I was placed into surroundings that were completely new: A new way of eating and drinking communal style, and new bathroom type and style, and a different climate. These are in addition of course to the language, religion, gestures, and everything else that goes into making a culture unique, which some could argue everything.

While I consider myself more adaptable than average, this may not accurately be the case. I feel that there is a direct correlation between the experiences I have had previously, and my ability to adapt. In short, I am saying that I believe I am more adaptable than the average due to these learned adaptability moments. So the flaw in the logic and accuracy of the statement is that I have had experiences to learn from and use as background knowledge for these adaptability moments, and probably more than the average person. (I also apologize if I just completely confused anyone, hope it made sense.)

You may wonder where exactly I am going with this. I can’t say I totally know where it is heading myself. It all stems from a movie I was watching.

I sat down for breakfast this morning after watching a portion of “Into the Wild.” If you have not seen this movie, watch it. It has everything to do with adaptation to environment (yes I know the end is lack of adaptation). It is based on a true story, and that is all I will say without giving it away. The music is quite fantastic, and Eddie Vedder could not have done a better job in creating the pieces to go along with the movie… But back to what I was I was saying.

So I sat down for breakfast with the movie going in my head, music and all. I began to think about my current situation, and adaptability. I was using my new acquired language to speak, and I was eating in a manner that is only a few months new to me. But, I felt entirely comfortable with my surroundings. There was a natural sort of feeling about it that struck me, and thinking about the movie it just clicked. I am adaptable. I am adaptable enough to learn entirely new things in a matter of a few months. True, I have had the help of those around me, my fellow humans around me who can teach me and know the basic essentials of humanity. Even though the people around share almost zero common history, and there are few common experiences, my fellow human beings have aided me in learning how to live the way that they live, because they are humans as well.

Sure, that is deep, or something. But it is true. The adaptive nature of humans has allowed us to dominate portions of the world. This is not a new and revolutionary thought. We have learned, and we have helped each other learn.

Think about it. Think about other animals you know. Think about teaching in every aspect, and think about domestic dogs and cats. Why dogs and cats???

Well, domestic dogs and cats look very different on the surface. You have various breeds, and those breeds are large, small, brown, black, yellow, spotted etc. All of these traits are different. Yet deep down, they have the same set of genetic DNA that allows them to intermingle and breed, creating new offspring. Stay with me here.

Humans are similar in that aspect. On the surface, we look very different, but we have the same genetic make-up that allows us to breed with someone who is quite different from us on the surface as far as traits go.

But compare dogs and cats and humans. As humans, we are the only species that can teach the others around us from entirely different languages, places, and experiences. This enables me to be taught everything in order to survive here in Morocco.

Yes, I understand that in many animal species, offspring are taught how to do various tasks by family members. But think of the scale difference going on here, and the fact that a group of people I have never met before has taught me the things I know. Dogs do not do this, birds do not do this. I am completely fascinated by this, if you couldn’t tell.

So the main point of this is that humans are incredibly adaptable to the environments in which they choose to inhabit. This has allowed us to live everywhere in the world, and to become the most abundant animal (size wise) on the planet. Of course there are some habitats that humans cannot even live for very long in without extreme adaptability (think Everest here.)

I apologize for the stream-of-consciousness style of writing I sometimes use, and if I have confused anyone, or bored anyone in the process of this entry.

With that said, if you followed me to this point, thanks. I have been extremely busy the past few days, having had to go to the big city of Meknes for a meeting, and then helping the current PCVs get moved out of their place. I have also been meeting and discussing work and potential projects, and all of this is going as well as I think it can go.

I recently made a playlist for the PCVs that are leaving, as a sort of parting gift. They have done incredible work here, and I can only hope to build off of that. Once again, they have taught me the things they know about life and work here, and allowed me to adapt more easily than I would on my own. While I have only known them a short time period, I certainly will not forget everything they have given me here, and I hope for them the best as they re-adapt back into America.

So here is the playlist:
Homesick - Kings of Convenience
Car Song - Woody Guthrie
Last Year’s Man - Leonard Cohen
#41 (Live at Luther College) - Dave Matthews/ Tim Reynolds
Do You Remember Walter? - The Kinks
Livin Thing - Electric Light Orchestra
Jogging Gorgeous Summer - Islands
Goby - Kaki King
Neighborhood - David Byrne
Lisboa A Noite - Theivery Corporation
Les Champs-Elysees – Darjeering Limited Soundtrack
Knoxville Girl – Charlie Louvin
Tianchi Lake – The Mountain Goats
Winners – K’s Choice

I have also been reading more. Here is a good quote that hit me in a good way the other day.

“That’s the way the mind works: the human brain is genetically disposed towards organization, yet if not tightly controlled, will link one imperial fragment to another on the flimsiest pretense and in the most freewheeling manner, as if it takes a kind of organic pleasure in creative association, without regard for logic or chronological sequence.”
- Tom Robbins “Fierce Invalids Home from Hot Climates”

This is my exact sort of thoughts on thinking (maybe you could tell that in the above writing). Much Love.

Word.

Houses and Chicken Shop Cats

2009-05-29T05:19:00.002-05:00

So I ordered a cat the other day at the chicken shop. It sounds strange I know, but literally that is what I did. The story goes like this: At the local chicken shops here, there are animals that hang out around these shops hoping for some tasty treats. My city has many cats, and only a few dogs. The cats keep away mice, and get a little chicken. At one place in particular, there is gorgeous calico cat. It just so happens that the cat is pregnant with a kitten or more. So after seeing this pregnant cat, I asked if it would be possible if there is a kitten like the mother if I could have it when it is time to be weaned. Of course he said yes. So hopefully this means that in a few months time I will have a calico kitten, and of course this means pictures will be up.

This brings me into my next topic, which is house hunting. Right now, in my village it is difficult to find a place to stay. This is because outside of town about 20km there is a large dam that is being built. So workers need to have a place to stay, and my town is the biggest town in the area. I finish my home-stay with my family in just over a month, and so the past few days have been spent going out and looking at potential places to rent. Yesterday alone I looked at about eight places. This is much more than I anticipated, and gave me a good feel for what I wanted or should expect in a place.

I saw a variety of places, some close to the center of town, some really far away from the center. I saw some places that were too small, and a place that was so nice and extremely too large for me. I saw some places that were super dirty and needed a lot of work, and I saw places that were in very good shape.

So after a long day of searching, I think that I may have found my new home for the next 22 months. It is a nice house, with a large communal room and 2 bedrooms, and a kitchen and Turkish toilet. There is also a shed for storing my fuel-wood for the winter, and if I want I can get some farm animals.

OH, and the last thing is this... My address has changed slightly. So those of you that had my address, the postal code has changed. The last digit changed from a zero to a two... so 0 changes to 2.

Promise there will be more posts soon.
Cheers!
Me!

Music Of Choice: Radiohead - "Kid A" album

The Long Road Ahead...and the Bled

2009-05-18T12:04:00.002-05:00

First, The Bled.

This past week, some volunteers and I went hiking and camping. While it surely was fun, it was also for work. I am replacing two volunteers (a couple), and they needed to show me the route to take when I will be working in the large park in my site.

We spent three days in total hiking and two nights camping. The first day and the last day we hiked 25 km to/from the place we camped. The middle day we spent exploring, and showing me the correct routes to follow when I do this on my own. So here are some more details, and I will try to be succinct and organized.

The hike we took is not super technical, on the way there it tends to be more downhill than uphill, but there are three large uphill portions. There are a couple of roads (think hard dirt) that we followed as well. Along the way we passed through two small villages, and by a couple of random houses. To me, these villages and houses represent a style of isolation that is very unimaginable to me. While the two villages are accessible via cameo ride when the weather is good (dump truck ride with 20 or so people and goods in the bed), many of the individual houses are only accessible via mule or donkey or horse. I know that back in the states, some people have cabins in the wilderness only accessible (by car) for part of the year. I suppose this is the same… but the people here are there all year round.

In Morocco, there is a specific term for the country. This phrase is called “The Bled”, and basically stands for the country, the middle of nowhere… you get the point. Mud houses are the only structures in these villages, and from afar, it blends in somewhat with the landscape around, and looked very serene and natural. It is this isolation that I had envisioned when I first came to Morocco.

The middle day of hiking was, as I said, very much exploring, but also showing me some of the technical portions of the trail. The campsite we chose is near a natural spring, and the water is cold and fantastic. No need to treat it. The site also is at the mouth of a gorge. The gorge consists of cliffs on either side around 1000 feet at least, maybe more. I am a bad judge at heights. In some portions the gorge is wide, like a quarter mile. Other portions are only as wide as the length of a car, or the width of a normal bedroom. In periods of heavy rain, naturally there are flooding issues. The weather we had was gorgeous and clear, so the stream was at a normal level.

Some of the exploring we did consisted of free-climbing, as the rock faces were perfect for it. There was also a small pool of water that was good for cooling off and swimming. The end of the gorge opened up to a valley (this gorge is THE pass through the mountains) and there were some more houses and trees. Once again, it was absolutely gorgeous.

The volunteers pointed out the way from there over another pass (A pass is a route through/between the mountains) and into the park. From my town, the park is two days hiking away, just to get there. Basically that is roughly 50km or so of hiking in two days. This is in fact the bled.

Naturally, there were a number of people we met along the way. Most of them are curious, yet friendly. There were some shy characters who gave us odd looks, others who talked with us and were happy we knew their language. There were also people along the way who asked us for things. The main things were medicine and candy.

Apparently, whatever foreigner had visited these places in the past must have been a doctor or a candy dealer, or both. There were some adults who would come up to us and ask if we had medicine to give them, or if we had pills to help various ailments. I suppose it is odd for a person to be backpacking through their town, and naturally they may have thought we were all doctors, coming to help the sick and give medicine.

There were also the children. Many of the kids would ask us for candy. They would say hello (after we said hello to them) and then ask for candy. The word for candy in Tam is “l’Hlwa” (basically pronounced Hull-uh-wah). In one particular village, things got crazy. Kids were coming from all around the village, not even saying hello, and just saying as fast as they could “Hlwa Hlwa Hlwa!” They did this in a very high pitched sort of sound. It was both hilarious, and also sad. At some point these kids have been trained in some manner to react this way to foreigners. Maybe some candy fairy foreigner (or doctor) gave them candy, but even so, it was crazy. So we decided that the name of the village should change to “Ait Hlwa.” The word “Ait” means tribe. So Ait Hlwa means “tribe of candy.” It was fitting.

“The Long Road Ahead”
Being at my final site, I have seen some amazing things. I have also seen things that make me sad, and wonder how people can just dump trash and deforest without replanting, and how the environment is not taken care of in any sense.

I had a conversation with my host mom the other day about if I was lonely, or missed my family back home. I told her that of course I missed my family and friends, but at the same time I did choose to come here and do this work.

It is a long road, and definitely an uphill battle in many ways. It has been a great time, but there have also been times since I have been here that have been difficult. Sometimes it gets quite lonely, and due to the fact my language is not yet strong, I cannot just go out and talk to people about intellectually stimulating things. I have to stick to the basics. It is still difficult to describe exactly how I feel to people. There are really good days with language, and then days where talking just is not happening, and the frustration is beyond belief.

As a disclaimer, please do not read this and think that I am having trouble, or am having a hard time. With anything, it is natural to have ups and downs, especially when you are singled out and stick out everywhere you go. This is just a bit of the realistic side of it all.

Of course I want to be at the point where language is perfectly understandable and easy, and the environmental work is going well. But, I definitely have to keep telling myself that while this point will come… and I know that it will… that the whole process should not be forgotten in the meantime, and that the process is maybe more important than the product.

I know that experiencing the ups and downs on my own (yes, I know that people support me), will help me in the end to become a stronger person, and be able to deal with hard issues and events. No matter how ready I ever thought I could be, or how strong I thought I was before coming here, I know that when my time here is up, I will have grown so much more and will see the world in a different way. Sometimes, I just realize that it definitely will be a long road, at times awesome, at times difficult, but it will be rewarding. (That all sounds really cheesy when I re-read it.)

Once again… give me topics to write about if you have questions. Thanks for the already suggestions!

Here are some future topics (I came up with these):
- Biggest problems of my Village (that townspeople tell me)
- Funny Language translations, and the way people talk (including my nickname)
- Moroccan Hospitality
- One Plate, One Cup (Communal dinner at its finest)

That’s all I have for now. I love you all, and if you want to send me things, I have an address. I want to mention that you should be smart about shipping in many ways. But the first thing is this… THE US POST OFFICE SELLS BOXES AT A FLAT RATE TO GO OVERSEAS. YOU CAN PUT UP TO A CERTAIN AMOUNT OF WEIGHT IN THE BOX. THIS IS THE CHEAPEST WAY TO GO PROBABLY, BECAUSE IF YOU SEND ME PACKAGES, YOU MIGHT AS WELL SEND FULL PACKAGES.

Some hints for packages again:
- Label the box “Educational Materials”
- Sending money or electronics = bad idea… things get opened and taken here, this is not the USPS usually good system
- Sending religious materials = see above. I do not want to be viewed as a missionary by anyone in the government here, because it is illegal, and probably would not be helpful for work purposes.
- I like surprises.

Im not saying I expect everyone to send packages… but don’t you like mail too?! If you want to send me packages, and do not have my address, e-mail me or my parents. If you want a list of things to send, I can give make a list up, and post it here on my blog.

I love you, happy summer, and Oh yeah, I saw my first scorpion the other day out hiking. It was cute.

Loves,
Me!

Some thoughts I have had...

2009-05-13T10:39:00.002-05:00

I hope that everything is going well for you back at home. I wrote this a few days ago, and I decided to post it. I probably will post more threads like this, along with other cultural points. PLEASE give me suggestions of topics to write about, or any questions that you have for me. I need suggestions too, because I sometimes don't know what to post about!! :-)

Alright, so here it goes...

I am looking out the door of my cyber. It is open about halfway, and I can hear the sound of a large cameo (think dump truck) purring out the door. I am next door to my brother's Hanut (think small small small store), and the cameo is picking up the empty butagas (propane tanks) containers and delivering a fresh load of new ones, that way families can cook their foods and have cous-cous today... because in fact every friday tends to me a cous-cous friday for some reason.

I see a little girl about 7, cute as a button, walking and talking to a boy down the row. I know this little girl by her face, and the fact she stops at the Hanut a few times a day, in order to pick up some sort of candy items, maybe a gummi treat, or flavored marshmellows (LHlwa n Lponj... which translates literally into candy of the sofa). She sometimes giggles when I talk to her, or just looks at me in silence and a bit of awe.

The sun is shining now somewhere through the newly formed clouds. It is probably a bit hot in the sunlight, but when the shade returns it is a bit chilly. This morning it was all sun, but the weather report last night said we would be getting 34 degrees today but also rain and thunderstorms possibly. So at the day goes on, the mountains in the distance uplift the air pockets and cools them, forming the clouds I am currently seeing. It probably will rain this afternoon, I hope it is thunderstorms.

I see the north face of the mountains (Jebel Masker) in the distance topped by pockets of snow. They will probably be there until June or so, and it looks like it may be raining on the mountain top. It is a great site, and I feel lucky to be here... all the while donkeys and horses with carts come by, along with cars or trucks. It is mix of old and new.

I see the mosque, it's tower painted a light yellow, and trimmed with sea green. It is this very mosque that sometimes wakes me up at 5 in the morning, as the call to prayer is being said, or a portion of the Koran is read. The five times a day of loudspeakers blaring is a constant reminder of where I am, and the beliefs of the people and or the country.

I see people walking by wearing Jellabas, and headwraps, and women carrying weeds for their animals. Little boys are playing some sort of card game, maybe dealing with soccer type cards that my Hanut sells. The humorous part is that like many things at the Hanut, they are old, and in fact these cards are from EURO CUP 1996. Many of the children with them were not even born at the time let alone remember any of the players. I remember watching the Euro Cup and rooting for the Netherlands, in the comfort of my own home for 18 years, sitting in front of a large TV wasting my summer away. There were probably dreams of playing soccer in Europe, of traveling to Europe, at least I hope that is what was being thought.

A few girls walk by, on their way to school I presume, and stare at me. This is common, and I still don't know what sort of way to feel about girls who are of marrying age (15 or so) here staring at me in this sort of way. Sometimes they will talk to me, say Bonjour, and I will speak in Tam to them back. Sometimes they are surprised, sometimes they just laugh and say nothing else. The reaction that I get kind of reminds me of some of the Korean ESL students, and the sorts of giggles and looks that they gave me.

The Little girl is back again, with her hooded red shirt and her blue jeans and little light blue plaid type shoes. She dashes off, and seems very happy with the world around her. Innocence like this is seen everywhere here, and sometimes this lack of world knowledge, this ignorance is what makes people content and happy. Sometimes, I envy for this feeling, as I know that there are better ways of living than the way some live here.

FINISHED

Hope you enjoy.

Much Love,
ME!

Welcome to the Mountains

2009-05-06T07:40:00.001-05:00

So as I said before, I am near the mountains. I have arrived at my final site, and been spending the past few days trying to take care of some business like residency card and also a PO box. Both of which I have, and if you would like my address to send me a letter, card, package, surprise, just e-mail me and ask and I will probably give it to you.

The town I live in and the area around me is very contradictory. The town is quite large, and a center of local commerce. It is around 8000 people, and I really have most everything here that I need like stores, souks, and cyber-cafes. The town itself is quite windy at times, and there is a lot of dust that gets blown around. Also, one of the huge environmental problems of the area is the trash issue. I will talk more about this later, but basically people dump their trash in the river beds, and on the street. So littering is prevalent. In the people’s defense, there is no trash collection system in place, so the trash that can be burned sometimes is burned for heat. But, the biggest problems are the plastic bags. Every little store gives them out with a purchase, even the smallest items. The bags end up like modern-day tumbleweed, and it is not surprising to see them blowing by you in the street, or in a plastic bag whirlwind, or hung up on some tree somewhere. It is quite depressing to see, but really, this is part of the reason I am here. Even I have trouble disposing of trash, as I said there is no adequate collection system. SO, if you send anything to me, please make it something I can burn that is not plastic or Styrofoam, so I do not have trouble disposing.

So in general, this is my town. It is not unique, but the area around it is unique and also breathtaking. I have two large peaks nearby, one at 11000 ft, and the other at 12500. The latter is the third highest peak in North Africa. I hope to climb both of these once the snow is gone in June. There are a number of other peaks around as well. Generally, there are very few trees, partly due to the semi-arid conditions, and party due to the overharvesting and not replanting trees. This allows for great hiking (minus the wind) and I plan to get out and do a lot of hiking. It is actually part of my job, and the park I will work in is a two day hike away (2 days of 8 hours hiking) and camping in the middle.

There is not a lot in the way of big wildlife. Most of the large mammals were gone a while ago. This leaves hares, boars, wild dogs, and some grazing animals as the mammals. There are a few snakes present, and also a number of skinks and lizards. There are also a number of small birds, and some large birds or prey present. The trees around are pine, oak, and cedar. Cedar is the most native here, and is also the most threatened by overharvesting. People here are not replacing the trees much at all, and this is the problem. People here need the wood to stay warm in the bitter cold winters, as electricity is way too expensive. So once again, this will be part of my work.

Since being here, my schedule has changed immensely from being super busy to now having not a whole lot to do. I am trying to integrate into my community, and I continue studying language, talk to community members, and learn about the community from the volunteers that are leaving. I try to make myself present and visible, so that people become accustomed to seeing me.
Even still, I have a lot of down time, and so I study languages, and also read books and play a few games or watch a quick bit of BBC news. Things tend to get accomplished at a slower pace here; it is just a fact of life.

I will try to keep a list of books I read in one of the side columns. I am definitely open to suggestions as well. Peace Corps here has a decent library in Rabat, and I can have books sent to me.

Also, if you have any questions, please e-mail me, and if they are topics I can write about here on this blog, then I will definitely do so. I have access to cyber-cafes all the time, and I go a couple times a week. Eventually, after I move into my own place, I will look into getting internet (not sure if it is possible). It will be much easier to get work done (a lot of work forms for Peace Corps are done via computer) and also condense my time staying in contact with people for the two times a week I plan on doing so. I also am already thinking about the cold winter, and how I do not want to have to leave my place to a cold cyber-café.

I hope that this post finds everyone safe and sound, and enjoying spring wherever you may be living.

Much Love!
Me!