Transitions

Hello from southern Morocco! This is my first post coming to you from my final site - and boy, is there a lot to tell. The last few weeks have been full of changes and adjustments – we’ve said goodbye to our first host families, left the first cities we called home, and returned to the first place we knew in Morocco: the good ol’ hotel in Rabat. After site announcements on our first afternoon there – and the subsequent gabbing with other volunteers, pointing at the big map of all of our sites, obsessively googling the names of our sites (even when they wouldn’t show because they’re too small) and writing to family about our new homes – we had 5 days to spend in Rabat with each other before going our separate ways. During those 5 days, I…

• Spent tons and tons of time with my closest volunteer friends 
• Attended the Mawazine music festival next to the river, and danced my heart out with friends

• Visited the ocean, sat near a lighthouse, and watched the sunset

• Attended some training sessions
• Ate delicious Lebanese and Chinese food, plus some of the best ice cream I’ve had since Egypt

• Walked around the big city wearing a t-shirt, since it’s more or less okay to wear such things there
• Returned to the shop in the old medina we visited during our first trip to Rabat, where the shop owner had invited us for tea and talked to us in our very limited Darija – this time, we were able to say hello, ask how he’d been, and have a little bit more of a conversation with him 
• Reminisced about training and freaked out a bit about us all leaving for our final sites 
• Took a shower every day! 
• Swore in as an official Peace Corps Volunteer! Details below 
• Visited the Peace Corps library and, after finding out that they would SHIP whatever books we wanted to our final sites, exhibited my typical complete lack of self-control when it comes to books, along with a few friends who did the same (I will be receiving an embarrassingly large box next week). 
• Packed up all my things 
• Wondered how the hell I was going to make it to site with so much stuff 
• Received MORE stuff from Peace Corps 
• Seriously considered the possibility that I was never going to be able to make it with all of my crap 
• (Somehow) fit all of my things into 3 bags and departed Thursday morning for the train station with a group of other volunteers 

Swearing in was Wednesday morning, the day before we left for our final sites. We dressed in our best – some of us in newly-acquired Moroccan outfits – and headed to the office of Youth and Sports, in the part of the city where all of the government buildings are housed. It was a lot like a graduation ceremony - except instead of that free-spirited, school’s-out type atmosphere, there was an excitement/fear combination looming over all of us at the prospect of setting out on our own the next day. A member of the cabinet in charge of the Ministry of Youth and Sports was in attendance, as well as the US Ambassador to Morocco, his wife, and all of the Peace Corps Morocco staff. We were also lucky enough to have in attendance 2 members of the first group of volunteers to come to Morocco, 50 years ago this year. After some speeches and a few video slideshows with pictures from training (which made more than a few of us tear up), we stood up to take our oath of service. We raised our right hands, repeated the oath, and were suddenly no longer PCTs, but real, official PCVS. 

                                                                          

After the ceremony, we enjoyed some snacks and juice in the lobby (and by enjoyed, I mean devoured - perhaps due to the crazy range of emotions we were all feeling, we went crazy with the snacks. The juice, cookies, snacks, everything went so quickly it was comical!), and then took a walk over to the Peace Corps Headquarters. The headquarters is a absolutely beautiful compound of buildings, complete with offices, a medical unit, some temporary living quarters, and the library. We had a picnic lunch, looked around, and went hog-wild in the library. I think for some of us, the trip to the library was almost as exciting as swearing-in itself – so many books, and so much time for reading coming up during Ramadan, when everything will be closed.

Thursday morning came bright and early. In the hotel lobby, standing between suitcases and backpacks galore, we hugged and said goodbye to the folks we’d become so close with during training, and promised to visit each-others’ sites as soon as possible. A huge group of us heading south boarded a 9:45am train to Marrakesh together, and overwhelmed the poor train with all of our stuff. I again seriously wondered how I was going to make it to my final site with all of my bags – how did they suddenly get so heavy?? 

From there, everyone in Region 5 hopped on a bus to Agadir, and we were met by a group of current volunteers from the region at the bus station when we arrived. Though some of us are only an hour away from Agadir, we all stayed the night at a hotel in the city, in order to give ourselves a chance to rest, talk, and meet some current volunteers in the region before heading to meet our new host families in the morning. Agadir is a beautiful city on the coast, and we treated ourselves to an awesome dinner at an Indian restaurant on the beach that night! 

The view from the train

First glimpse of the beach in Agadir

Friday morning, I headed to my new site with Hannah, the volunteer currently in site whom I’ll be replacing. She’ll be here with me for about 10 days, until she closes her service and heads back to the US for graduate school. In many ways, it’s really nice having her here – she’s been able to show me around, introduce me to people, and help me adjust a little. Plus, I’ll have her apartment to move into! Most volunteers have to hunt for an apartment on their own, and furnish it from the bottom up – a task that isn’t easy in America, let alone in a new country, culture, and community. I feel so incredibly lucky to have that daunting task taken care of – it’s at least one thing I won’t have to worry too much about!

The last few days have been a whirlwind – and even with Hannah to help me get acclimated, it’s been overwhelming. Unlike training, there's no language-culture facilitator (read: teacher/translator), no support group of 5 other Americans around all the time, and no schedule of classes and activities all nicely planned out. It's just me, my community, and my toolkit of past experiences to guide me. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared out of my pants and freaking out a little bit – but shwiya b shwiya, I'm making some progress. Over the past 4 days, I’ve:

• Met my new host family 
• Begun to learn the ways in which the Darija here is different than in the north 
• Met the Mudir (director) of the Dar Chebab (youth center)
• Played soccer with a group of girls from the Dar Chebab 
• Gone into a few of the local haunts (shops)
• Went for a walk through town all by myself, through streets full of people staring and wondering who the hell I am, and struck up a conversation with a group of women in the park. I’m going to be real with you – it was pretty awkward, and my Darija wasn’t as good as I’d hoped due to the dialect difference. At more than one point in the conversation, it was me standing in front of a huge group of women, smiling awkwardly and making small talk about how pretty the park is, wondering what in the hell to say next. Still, it was good to feel that I was meeting people and at least making my presence known in the community. One of the women works at the Nedi Neswi (women’s center), so I’ll hopefully be working with her sometime in the future.

Truth: this is unfamiliar, difficult, scary, overwhelming, and altogether far different from anything I’ve experienced in my entire life. I’m not sure where to begin, who to talk to, or whether or not any of my ideas will be successful. And that’s okay. I’m reminding myself to take things step by step, shwiya b shwiya, and to laugh along the way. For the past 50 years, volunteers have been doing this in communities across the country, and have felt lost and confused when entering their new sites. And yet, for the past 50 years, volunteers have adjusted over time, and found success in ways big and small. We are all part of that legacy – and that’s something to remember each day.

After 1 year and 8 months of waiting...

10 months of waiting to find out which country I'd be assigned to for Peace Corps
8 months of waiting to leave for Morocco after receiving my placement
2 months of waiting for my final site announcement during pre-service training

...All leading up to one announcement, received two days ago in a hotel in Rabat. After saying goodbye to our training cities and teary-eyed host families on a cloudy Saturday morning, we lugged our bags to Fes and boarded the buses taking us back to Rabat, where we had stayed during our first 9 days in Morocco. Reunited with all 100+ trainees again, some of whom we hadn't seen in over two months, we hugged, laughed, and gabbed about our differing training experiences - the good, the bad, the hilarious, and the challenging. After only a few hours' time, we found ourselves sitting in the huge conference room on the top floor of our hotel, literally on the edges of our seats, waiting to finally find out where we'd be living for the next 2 years of our lives.

They announced the regions first, splitting us up into smaller groups and giving us just the knowledge of where in the country we'd be headed. The anticipation was palpable - each region was announced in front of the entire group, and slowly but surely we watched as the group became smaller and smaller until we were all divided by region.

Finally, in our smaller regional groups, we were shown our final sites one by one - and after 20 months of waiting, I can actually tell you where I will be living, working, and integrating for the next 2 years!!


My site: A small town about 1 hour east of the beautiful coastal city of Agadir! It’s in the Souss region in the southwestern portion of Morocco, in the Taroudannt province.

We received a folder of information about our sites; here are a few things I’ve learned so far:
- The population is difficult to pinpoint, but small. There are a lot of smaller villages surrounding the town, which is on a main road to Agadir
- The area is known for its orange groves and for good produce in general. Almond and argon trees are also common
- The climate is HOT! In the summer, it can range anywhere from 100-120 degrees Fahrenheit! Most things close down in July and August because of the heat
- Most people speak Darija (Moroccan Arabic). Some people, especially older women, speak Tashelheit, a dialect of an Amazigh (Berber) language
- There is both a Dar Chebab (youth center) and a Nadi Neswi (women’s center). I think a big reason I got placed here is that the Nadi Neswi recently lost their Mudir (director) and is in need of someone to help keep things running and add some more activities. There are also a good number of gender-related organizations in the area that could be potential partners on projects. It sounds like there’s a lot of great work to be done there!
- I’ll be replacing a current volunteer there who is finishing her service about 2 weeks after I arrive


My initial thoughts:
     I was surprised at first by my placement in a smaller site. I had requested a larger site because of my interest and skill set in bringing together multiple organizations working on similar issues, and that sort of work is usually done in more urban environments. After learning more about my site, though it seems to really be a great fit for me – especially because of the need for leadership assistance in the Nadi Neswi and the presence of lots of different gender-related organizations in surrounding cities. Plus, the rural areas are, in a lot of respects, the places where the most GAD (Gender and development) work can be done, and where there are fewer people already filling that need.
     I hadn't requested any particular region or climate in my site placement interview, because what I cared most about was being able to do the kind of work I’m passionate about and good at. Because of that, I didn’t really have any expectations, and was pleasantly surprised by my placement way down in the south. Though I experienced it for a short time in Egypt, I’ve never lived in that type of climate, and it should be a good experience! Plus, being so close to the coast and Agadir itself will be amazing – Agadir is known for its miles and miles of beautiful beaches.


All of us trainees are here in Rabat for now doing some transition-related training, and on Thursday morning we leave for our new homes! A group of us heading to the Souss will be taking a train and then a bus down to Agadir, and the whole trip will take somewhere around 8 hours. We’ll live with new host families for a minimum of 2 weeks or until we find our own houses/apartments, and then we’ll be on our own!


The next update will come from my final site - I can’t believe this is actually happening!!

The things that make it worthwhile

Yes, another post! It may seem like I suddenly have a lot of time on my hands to type all of this, but that’s definitely not the case! I’ve had a lot of assorted thoughts typed out for some time, but hadn’t gotten around to refining them to posts – and since our training is coming to a close soon (eek!), I’m trying to gather most of the training-related thoughts and turn them into posts now! This is a long one, but full of good stuff!

I've told you a bit about the intensive language component of our training in a previous post, but haven't written as much about the other things we've been doing! In addition to the language, we've had some hands-on training we've gotten for the kind of work we’re going to be doing in the Dar Chebabs (youth centers) once we get to our final sites. There’s a vast array of projects a volunteer might work on over the course of their service, but for training purposes we've gotten some practice with basic things all of us will do at some point: teaching some English classes, community analysis (PACA!) and planning activities for youth.

English teaching

Though it isn’t intended to be the focus of our work, almost all of us will start out teaching English to students at the Dar Chebab, for two reasons. First, there is a real need for English tutoring, especially at the high school level – in order to pass the Bac (the exam used both for earning a high school diploma and college entrance), students must demonstrate a certain proficiency in English. Second, teaching English is a good way to gain trust and build relationships in the community, especially amongst the youth. It would be difficult to hit the ground running with youth development activities like starting new clubs, doing leadership workshops, etc. without being known and trusted in some familiar capacity – like teaching. 

  

Spring camp:

Only a few weeks into training, we had the opportunity to help out with the day camp held at the Dar Chebab during students’ spring break. It was open to all ages, but the majority of the kids were in the 10-16 age range. Each day of camp was full of classes, games, songs, and countless other activities, but we helped out mainly during the morning sessions by leading beginners’ English classes. I was frankly pretty nervous about the classes – I’d never done any teaching for English as a second language before, and even my general teaching experience had been with much older students (mostly adults, in fact). After all my worrying, though, I’m happy to say that the classes ended up going really well! We focused on a content-based method, which means teaching English by way of teaching about another important topic – health, arts, environment, etc, rather than just giving a traditional lesson. Each day had a different content theme – Greetings, food/nutrition, exercise/fitness, and empowerment. The first half of the morning was always dedicated to the content-based lesson, and the second half was a game, usually based off of the content learned earlier that morning.

Each of the days seemed like a great success, and I was so blown away by the enthusiasm of the youth. Though we did try to make the lessons interesting and fun, I was still a little bit concerned that they wouldn’t be interested in sitting in “class” during their spring break. To my pleasant surprise, quite the opposite was true! Not only did they pay attention, but they seemed genuinely interested and excited to be learning – and that was truly an inspiration. Most of the kids picked up on things very quickly, and we were able to teach a lot more than we planned for on a few of the days.

My favorite, as you might have guessed, was “empowerment day.” We taught vocabulary and expressions related to “What are you good at?” “When I grow up, I want to be,” and various hobbies and professions. The kids were all so excited to talk about their skills, interests, and aspirations – seeing them light up like that when talking about their passions made my whole week. Their aspirations were incredibly diverse, too – including doctors, teachers, rap artists, writers, and policewomen! We had each student draw a picture of “what they want to be,” and then guided them through writing down some steps needed to reach that goal (studying, finishing high school, saving money, etc.) on the back of the drawing. By the end of the activity, each student had a beautiful picture of their future self and at least 3 steps that they could start taking to realize that goal. Awesome! Of all the great drawings, there is one in particular that I will never forget: One student drew herself as a teacher, and her future students in the picture had a speech bubble that said, “I want to be…” – she made an effort to explain it to me, too, saying that she wanted to teach like we were, and get her students to imagine all that they can be, too. That moment, that testament to the lasting impact that can be sparked by just one short class, is something I’ll think of anytime the going gets tough. If I ever begin to doubt myself and question if my work is making any difference, I’ll remember that drawing, and all that it represents.

We hung all of their drawings on the wall as reminders of their goals!

The drawing I referenced about the future teacher of empowerment

Policewoman!

Engineer!

English classes:

We also taught three days of after-school English classes for the youth towards the end of training. There were more kids in attendance compared with spring camp, and the ages (and levels of English skills) varied a lot more. A few volunteers worked with the high school students who were relatively advanced in their English, and the rest of us worked on basics with the younger kids. The classes went well, but we noticed that the kids were definitely more rowdy during these after-school classes than they were during spring camp. It could have been that they were less able to focus after being in school all day, or just that the sheer number of them made it difficult for everyone to stay on task. In any case, we got some great hands-on practice with managing a large, diverse group of students like what we might find in our final sites. Plus, it was awesome to see so many students come out for something like extra classes after school – so much enthusiasm!

The biggest game of duck-duck-goose I have ever witnessed!

PACA!

Participatory Analysis:

I explained all about PACA (Participatory Analysis for Community Action) in a previous post, and we’ve done a lot more with it since then. There were a few bumps in the road, but all in all I’ve really come to appreciate the PACA process as a whole. We’ve gained some valuable insight into our community, regarding such a wide range of aspects – positives, negatives, resources, needs, organization, history, daily schedules, lifestyles, and perhaps most importantly, how each of these differs for various communities within Merja (eg. youth, adults, men, women, those working, those not working, etc.).

After the community mapping activity, which I referenced in my first PACA post, we gathered information about the daily schedules and seasonal calendar of people in the community. For the daily schedules, we had various members of our host families provide a picture of their typical day through some simple questions – when do you wake up and go to bed? What do you do in the morning, afternoon, evening? When are you most busy? If you work, what are your working hours? What do you do over the weekend? The responses obviously vary for each person, but taken together, they can provide a general picture of what people are typically doing at a given time of day. Being aware of this will prove to be very useful when planning potential meetings, clubs, or any other projects – if you try to plan something at the time when most people are going to the souk (market), eating dinner, etc., attendance will probably be an issue.

For the seasonal calendar information, we gathered some family members and a local mul hanut (shop owner) for a general discussion about the year. We talked about things like Ramadan (and how people’s daily schedule changes during that month), other holidays, the seasons, and when the busy times of year are for different people – shop owners, students, etc. This is beneficial for similar reasons as the daily schedule – if you want to plan a leadership camp for students, you need to be aware of when they’re busy, when they’re out of school, and when a holiday might prevent them from attending. Our conversation also turned again to what people like about Merja as well as what they think needs to be done to improve the community. Related to what we discussed during community mapping, the people in attendance referenced a need for leisure spaces several times – particularly a need for a safe place for women to get together and/or play sports. Merja used to be known for its natural beauty – there’s a river that runs through one side of town, and people used to spend a lot of time near the river or just outdoors in general, enjoying the scenery or playing sports. This was especially true for women: since it’s not socially acceptable for them to sit in the local cafes that are filled with men, they would spend their social time sitting in the natural park setting that the outdoors provided. With all of the new development going on, however, most of the natural spaces have disappeared, leaving nowhere for people to pass their time outdoors aside from in the streets or in empty lots between partially-built apartment complexes. The participants also mentioned a need for a soccer team or field dedicated to girls, since many girls love to play soccer but often feel uncomfortable playing on the field dominated by boys.

Activities with youth: Turning the PA (participatory analysis) into the CA (community action):

This whole process of community analysis would be useless unless we actually followed through to the next steps: sharing the data gathered with our community and implementing projects based on the analysis. This is where things really started to get fun! Last week, we gathered a large group of youth (about sixty kids on average each day!) in the Dar Chebab for three days of activities based on Merja’s PACA information. The overall goal for the week was to engage the youth in some critical analysis about their community and guide them through the process of identifying needs, planning next steps, and implementing an idea. Though we’re pretty sure the youth hadn’t done many, if any, activities like these before, the week was a great success, and the kids seemed to really enjoy the chance to speak up about what matters to them.

The first day, we presented a poster we’d made of the information we’d gathered during the community mapping, daily schedule, and seasonal calendar activities. It was summarized into “assets,” “setbacks,” “needs,” and “next steps” – but the “next steps” category was left blank, open for the youth’s ideas about how to address some of the needs in their community. After talking with them about the poster, we all went on a community walk around Merja, asking the kids to think about what they saw – what’s good? What’s not so good? What’s missing? Who uses which resources and why? We were a little bit worried that some of the kids would get distracted on the walk and not focus on the task, but it went well for the most part. Most of the kids were focused on the goal of the walk, and some of the girls walking near me were pointing out really interesting things that I’d never noticed before. When we got back to the Dar Chebab, we facilitated a conversation about what we’d seen and, with some translation help from our LCF, made lists on the board of their thoughts regarding positives, negatives, and needs of the community. I was so blown away by the enthusiasm of the kids during the conversation – everywhere I looked, students were raising their hands high, visibly excited to have their voices heard. Though I couldn’t understand everything that was said until our LCF helped translate, I could hear the passion in their voices and see the excitement in their faces. They made long lists in each column, and we were so amazed by what we saw on the board at the end of the evening! The youth had made observations that none of the adults we’d talked to had mentioned, and it was clear that there was a lot they wanted to see for their community.

The next day, we continued with a goal-setting workshop, specifically focused on the needs they had identified the night before. We wanted to give the kids the skills and experience needed to take an identified need and create long, medium, and short-term goals in order to meet the larger goal. This is so important for everyone, but especially for kids, who often are bursting with good ideas but feel that it’s impossible because they don’t know where to start. We first reviewed all the needs they had identified, and then helped them select one to focus on based on what seemed to be both important and achievable. They chose to focus on creating more space outdoors for leisure, such as parks and football fields. We then split them up into small groups, and each group thought about 6 possible steps to attaining the larger goal. They were free to write whatever kinds of steps they could think of – short-term or long-term, small or large. They wrote each step on a separate sheet of paper, and afterwards we came back as a large group to discus. We had a long timeline on the wall, with marks indicating 1 week, 1 month, 6 months, 1 year, and 5 years, and asked them to place each step somewhere on the timeline, based on when it would take place in the larger picture. I was a bit nervous going into this activity, because I had only done it with college students during strategic planning for an organization on campus (thanks Kappa Kapps Psi, for the experience needed to do this!), so I didn’t know how it would transfer with younger kids. There were some in the room who didn’t seem to be very interested in the activity, and that could have been because the room was kind-of loud and crazy at some points during the group work, or because of age differences (there were a few kids there who were probably too young for something as demanding as this). Overall, though, the activity was awesome – a lot of the kids were super interested in the goal-setting process, and it was truly inspiring to see them so invested in their goal. When we were finished, the entire wall was filled with steps along the way to making their vision a reality, and I saw steps on the wall that I hadn’t even thought of myself!

Working in groups

The finished goals timeline

On the last day, we reviewed the goals timeline briefly and then got started on one of the first steps listed: cleaning up the trash and rocks in an already-available space for a park. There’s a makeshift soccer field in an empty lot behind the Dar Chebab, but there’s usually trash, rocks, a big weeds with thorns scattered about, making it a bit unsafe for the kids to play in. We took the kids out to the field and we all picked up trash, rocks, and some of the weeds in order to turn the makeshift park into a real safe place for leisure. We anticipated that a few kids might not be interested in the activity, both because it’s not entirely fun to pick up trash and rocks, and also because it was a really hot day. The vast majority of the kids participated, though, and did it with an energy and vigor that was really awesome! We sang songs, talked, and laughed while we cleaned, and by the end of the afternoon there was a difference in the field that everyone could see. We finished off the evening by playing some games in our newly-cleaned play area, and it seemed like the kids left feeling really accomplished with the work we’d done for the week.

To top the week off, I had a visit from a family friend of ours whom I’d met a few weeks before. She’s an awesome woman about my age, full of ambition and great ideas. Since we share similar interests in feminism, culture, and working for social change, I was already excited to see her – and little did I know that she was about to make my week! She asked about the activities we’d been doing with youth at the Dar Chebab, and after I told her all about it, she said that she wanted to take up the project after we go!! She said it was really important work, and that she wanted to take the initiative to hold meetings and continue with the work the youth had started. I was so excited that I could have cried – this is exactly why we do what we do! We’re not here to be the ones starting projects and finishing projects alone, only to leave after 2 years. We’re here to provide capacity-building skills, to help initiate positive change that’s led by community members and sustainable for years after we leave. This young woman’s desire to take what we’d started with the youth and run with it perfectly embodies that goal, and it reminds me why I came to Morocco in the first place. It is truly an inspiration that I’ll hold onto and remember during my entire service.

Whew! There was so much to tell, and I’m grateful for that! All of our experiences at the Dar Chebab during training have been wonderful, and I feel [at least somewhat] ready to start working with another group in my final site. Part of me wishes that we had more time to work with these kids, though, especially on their awesome timeline of goals. There’ve been rumors that a volunteer might get placed in Merja, and if that’s the case he or she will be able to hit the ground running with continuing this project and starting many others – especially given the opportunity to work with my friend as a counterpart! Our work here hasn’t been perfect by any means, but I can say that we’ve done at least some good, and, most importantly, that we may have started something that can continue long after we’re gone…and that’s something to write home about.

Community Integration

Almost two months of integration into a new community and culture is hard to summarize. I could write on and on about the challenges in integrating into a new community and culture, but it really is something best understood through experience, or perhaps a super long, in-depth post, both of which I’m presently unable to provide. I’ll do my best to give you a decent picture of how things have progressed, though. When we first got here, it was of course difficult – we were the new, unknown foreigners (we are still the foreigners, but at least now we feel somewhat known and understood), and we had no idea where anything was located, what might be acceptable, behavior, etc. Shwiya b shwiya (little by little), however, I’ve begun to feel more comfortable, both with my family and with the community in general.

With my family:
        Though it was awkward at first, my time spent with my family has been wonderful. Since my first week with them, they've made every effort to help me feel accepted as part of the family – my sisters even refer to me as “xti” (my sister). I constantly feel as though I can’t thank them enough for their incredible hospitality – it is at a level that I’ve never experienced in my life. From the moment I arrived, I’ve heard them talking about what I seem to like and don’t like as much, and they’re always trying to prepare foods I like Even though Moroccan families have a much different sense of privacy and personal space than families in America, they've been super respectful of my privacy when I need time to study, relax, etc. I had a hard time at first knowing what the boundaries were, especially regarding spending time with fellow trainees at the café, traveling on the weekends, and the like, but they’ve been very flexible and understanding with my (sometimes crazy) training schedule. Even though they may call to check up on me and will be concerned if I’m late without letting them know, I know it’s because they genuinely care about me and want me to be alright. After essentially living on my own for the past 4 and a half years, it was an adjustment not only because of the culture, but also because of the loss of the personal freedom to just come and go as I please, like I did in Grand Rapids (due to always having to update my family, time things around their meal times, etc.). Plus, let’s be honest – it can be kind of awkward living with another family, the cultural differences aside. With the added challenges of cultural differences and a language barrier, it was an interesting first few weeks!
        While some things were really hard to communicate at first, I’ve found that a surprising number of things can be communicated without words – especially humor. I laughed a lot with every member of my family in those first few weeks, and it really helped me to feel comfortable. I have 4 host sisters, 2 of which are married and live elsewhere, and 1 host brother. The two sisters who still live at home are 17 and 27, and my brother is 16, so it makes for a great dynamic at home. Small children are fun, but there’s a special kind of bond that I’ve been able to make with my host siblings who are at least somewhat close to my age. The two married sisters are 24 and 28, so it’s like a party in our house when they come to visit and we’re all together. I also have a host cousin who is 24, and she’s an absolute riot. She lives just across the street, and whenever she comes over we always end up dancing, joking, and laughing all night. As you might expect, my sisters and I have a fun messing with our brother – a lot of jokes have started with them telling me to call him “troublemaker” or some other silly word in Arabic, or with us calling him something like “crazy” in English, and then telling him that it means “nice” or “handsome.” Priceless. My host mom and dad are also both incredibly kind; I get the sense that my host dad knows absolutely everybody in the community and sort of uses that to watch out for me and the other volunteers when he can. The extended family is huge – I’m pretty sure I haven’t met all of them yet – but they have all been wonderful.
        Though it was difficult at first having a family that speaks no English, I’ve come to consider it a huge blessing in the long run. My Darija has progressed so much more quickly than I think it would have if I’d had a family member that spoke English. In order to be understood, even about basic day-to-day needs, I’ve had to constantly speak with them only in Darija. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t frustrating from time to time, especially early on, but all in all I am so grateful for the amazing opportunities to learn and practice that it’s given me!

In the community:
        The very first thing I think anyone would notice upon coming to Morocco is the unbelievable hospitality of Moroccans. I experienced it for the first time in Rabat, when a shop keeper in the old Medina invited a group of us to sit and drink tea with him, just to be welcoming and hospitable; my appreciation for it has only grown during my time here in Merja. In addition to my host family’s warm welcome, the rest of the community has shown a hospitality that seems to grow rather than wane with time. We’ve been invited to countless lunches (always cous cous – they know how much we love it!), kaskrots (snack times), and teas – so many that I don’t think we’ll be able to make it to all the houses we’ve been invited into by the time we leave next week! I’ve also learned that anytime you are invited into someone’s home, you’d better be ready to a) drink lots of tea, and b) eat lots of delicious food! It goes without saying that these are two concepts I have not had a hard time getting used to. J Who doesn’t love some famous Moroccan tea with some equally famous and delicious Moroccan cuisine?? When you are full, though, you need to be firm – many Moroccans, in their effort to be hospitable and help you to feel welcome, will try to keep feeding and feeding you until you insist that you are, in fact, very full!

        As with any community, there is a mix of the good and the bad. Along with the wonderful hospitality of the majority of Moroccans, we’ve also experienced some street harassment, both by men and by young children. The harassment from men is somewhat similar to what I experienced from time to time in Egypt – a lot of stares, greetings in many different languages, and guys telling you that you’re beautiful in one language or another, depending on which they think you’ll respond to. It’s more annoying than anything, and I haven’t felt physically threatened or endangered by any of them. The key, I’ve found, is to simply look straight ahead and ignore them, or else offer some kind of short, snarky remark in Darija that will take them by surprise and shut them up for at least a minute or two. It also really helps to befriend the owners of the various shops that you pass on your typical routes, and make it clear that you know them – I’ve gotten to know many kind mul haunts (shop owners) here in Merja, and I’ve noticed that after people see me talking with them, the harassment decreases drastically within the vicinity of their shops. The same strategies applied in Egypt, and I was more or less prepared to handle that kind of harassment from men. What continues to catch me off guard, though, is the occasional harassment from small children in the area, particularly as night falls. When it gets late, especially in the area close to the souq (market) groups of children seem to spring from the walls and go wild! They’ll run around you, shout things, tug on your coat or backpack to get your attention, or even throw things! It’s a small minority of the kids in the community, and it’s of course never been any of the kids that we’ve worked with in the dar chebab, but it is still baffling and a bit unnerving when it happens. It all comes down to a desire for attention and a lot of boredom – there’s not a whole lot for kids to do to entertain themselves here, and most of them have likely never seen someone from another country (or another city, for that matter) walking through their town. 

        Still, even after feeling a bit flustered from children making trouble, I seem to find little gems everywhere. I was riding a grand taxi alone for my first time and feeling just a bit nervous, since I was squeezed in with 5 others, none of whom I knew – or so I thought. The woman sitting next to me struck up a conversation with me, and I was surprised to find that she knew who I was and which family I was living with in Merja! Word travels fast in Morocco, especially about something like this – and she had heard all about me from my host family. We talked a bit about Peace Corps and its goals, and she made sure that I knew where to get out for my stop. It might sound creepy or something, but it didn’t feel that way at all – it was nice to run into somebody who knew my family, was interested in Peace Corps’ work, and who could sort of watch out for me on my first solo ride into Fes. In addition to being struck by her kindness, I was amazed with how quickly I was able to feel like a part of the community in that way, even if it was just one taxi ride.
        An experience I had recently truly illustrated for me just how much we have integrated into our community. I had traveled to the gorgeous cities of Ifrane and Azrou for the weekend with some fellow trainees who live on the other side of Fes, and was returning to Merja on my own on Sunday evening. On the short walk from the taxi stand to my house, I was flagged town by several different people – a young student from the dar chebab, a hanut (shop) owner, and a member of my extended family – all asking how I’d been, where I was returning from, and whether I enjoyed my weekend traveling. I realized then that Merja is, in many small yet significant ways, becoming a sort of home: I see people I know on my walks around town, I’m welcomed back after a weekend away by people in the community, and I’ve forged meaningful relationships with a good number of people here. Granted, there are a lot of people I’ve yet to get to know, and it’s not perfect – but if this is how I feel after less than 2 months in our training site, I can only imagine what it will be like living somewhere for 2 whole years! It can be scary getting to know a new community, but my experience here in Merja has shown me how exciting, welcoming, and fun it can also be – and I can’t wait to integrate into my final site.

In many ways, it’s sad to think about leaving Merja – we’ve come to know the various hanut owners, families, leaders in the dar chebab, and so much more, and now we are going to essentially peace out for our new cities. The reasons for it make sense: Peace Corps wants to give trainees a chance to learn Darija and get our feet wet a bit in communities with other volunteers and with the help of a language-cultural facilitator, and the best way to do that is through these group training sites. Since we’re spread out for our final sites (1-2 volunteers per city), the majority of us unfortunately have to leave our training sites and move elsewhere for our final sites. Though it will be sad to leave Merja, I’m excited to finally settle into the community in which I’ll live for 2 years and get to work – wherever that may be!


The next two weeks are going to be a whirlwind: 

- Wednesday the 16th: Language proficiency interviews – the big interviews that will test our level of proficiency in Darija – eek!
- Saturday the 19th: Leave in the morning for Rabat, no doubt amid tears when saying goodbye to our host families! We will also likely find out our final sites on this day! Ahh!
- Saturday the 19th – Wednesday the 23rd: Time in Rabat with our whole staging class, debriefing from training, finding out about our final sites, preparing to depart, etc. We’ll have our Swearing In ceremony on the 23rd, making us official Peace Corps volunteers!
- Thursday the 24th – Depart for our final sites!! Whoa!


Hold onto your hats!

Kantkllm Darija, shwiya b shwiya! - I speak Darija, little by little!

Kansaken f Merja – Merja hiya medina qrib mn Fes, f lmghrib. Kulyum, ana u mutataw3in xurin kanmshiu l dar shebab u kanqrau darija m3a ustad dyalna, smitu Omar. Kangul ‘shwyia b shwiya,’ Hit Mra Mra nas kayfhamuni, u ana kanfhamhum, welakin mra mra, meli kaytkllmu bzrba mafhamsh. Darija s3iba shwiya, welakin kan3rrf bzaff, Hit hadi gir 7 simanat u ana f mghrib! Inshallah, gadi kantkllm darija mzyan! f 24 shur 5, gadi nmshi l medina jdida dyali, u gadi nxdam m3a lwizarat dyal chebab besh ndir anshita l chebab f l dar chebab. Bgit ndir anshita u muxayam xas b bnat u niswi, inshaallah.

Translation: I live in Merja – Merja is a city close to Fes in Morocco. Everyday, my colleagues and I go to the Dar Chebab and study Darija with our teacher, whose name is Omar. I say, ‘little by little,’ because sometimes, people understand me and I understand them, but sometimes, when they speak quickly, I don’t understand. Darija is a little bit difficult, but I know a lot, since I’ve only been in Morocco for 7 weeks! God willing, I will speak Darija well! On May 25^th, I will go to my new city and work with the Ministry of Youth to do activities for youth in the Dar Chebab. I would like to do actvities and camps specifically for girls and women.

As you can see, my Darija (Moroccan dialect of Arabic) is coming along, shwiya b shwiya! With less than two weeks left of training (ah!), I've started doing some reflection about the training experience - cultural integration, living with a host family, technical preparation for youth development work, and of course, language. A friend of mine and fellow PCT, Eugene, made the very apt observation that learning a language is like looking at a picture that’s slowly coming into focus: first you can’t make out much – maybe a few colors, basic shapes - then some details start to appear, and later the larger picture as a whole begins to take shape. At that point, it becomes easier and easier to locate details within the larger framework, until it begins to feel like understanding, rather than merely searching through the fog for something that makes sense.

I’m happy to say that I finally feel as though I’ve reached something close to that point - I can see the larger picture, and I can place new words, verbs, grammar, etc. into my understanding fairly well. I am by no means fluent, or anywhere close to it, but the language feels less and less like a mystery, and my understanding seems to be increasing exponentially with each passing day. Even with all this, it still feels like a challenge, and from time to time it gets exhausting having to constantly translate for myself – especially on those days when it feels like everyone decided to use words I don’t know yet (some days are just off!). I try to always remind myself about how far we’ve all come with our language in such a short amount of time. I know more Darija now, after studying for two months, than I ever knew of German, which I studied for 3 years – and that’s pretty amazing! 

I've also noticed myself using certain Darija phrases in my own personal thoughts, which is awesome and pretty funny. Things like, "mashi mushkil" (no problem), "mzyan bezef" (very good), and a few other phrases/terms are used so often, both by Moroccans and in my everyday speech, that they've become part of my regular vocabulary, sometimes even when talking with Americans back home who don't know any Darija (sorry about that in advance!).

We had some informal language progress checks at the end of last week, and I was able to talk about myself, recount what I’d done in the past day, past week, past year, etc., discuss what my interests are, what I’m doing in Morocco, and much more – I even told a funny story about the time my host cousin, Zynab, accidentally called herself a potato when I was helping her with English! I also feel fairly confident in articulating the Peace Corps mission and 3 goals in Darija [finally!], as well as in describing the kind of work I’d like to do in my final site. I’m so glad to know how to express those ideas, not only because it’s exciting to express complex ideas, but also because there have been so many times in the past when I’ve wanted to explain to a Moroccan about Peace Corps, why we are learning Darja, and what we will be doing for two whole years (they often assume we are just here to teach English, and while we will be doing that from time to time, it’s not at all our main purpose).

I still have a long way to go, but I’m relieved to finally feel as though I’m prepared to leave for my final site and be on my own. In only a little more than 2 weeks, I’ll be speaking Darija with people in my final site, and may or may not have anyone working with me who speaks English. It’s going to be a challenge, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous as all get out – but I’m looking forward to more and more every day! 

Wellspring

Working for global gender justice is complex, even when working in one's home country - and it only becomes more so when living and working in a culture different than one's own. In addition to the challenges always present when dealing with issues of gender, race, class, and all other power dynamics, there is an added element of cultural difference thrown into the mix, making every issue that much more complex - and, above all, making it that much more important to be aware of our biases, attitudes, and ways in which we might be privileged. 

I've been thinking a lot lately about privilege, agency, and discursive spaces - by that I mean the areas, both physical and conceptual, in which ideas are communicated. A discursive space could be a place, such as a classroom, street, internet forum, etc.; an event/activity, such as a meeting, daily conversation, news conference, etc.; or anything in-between. If people are communicating and ideas are being exchanged, its some type of discursive space. I've specifically been concerned with questions like: Who is allowed into which discursive spaces? Who is left out? Who controls which spaces, and how? How are discursive spaces regulated by social norms?

I wrote following poem while reflecting about these types of questions. Like all poems, it is meant to be spoken aloud - and I think this might actually be my first experience writing what some might term "slam poetry." I'm still sort of working on it a bit, but I thought I'd share! If you'd like some more background about what I'm addressing in the piece, I'd love to talk more about it - just shoot me an email!

Wellspring

Clinking of glasses

Long sips of tea

Students meet, old friends greet

It’s more than leisure

Deeper than a cup of coffee

The discursive space is alive

New voices are heard

Fresh ideas spring forth

A wellspring of songs

Of knowledge and change

But smoke clouds the air

Shields things yet unspoken

A closer look: a sinister shadow

Persistent as death and visible as the wind

It remains at each table

Lurks behind each group of students

It brews at the bottom of each cup of coffee

Stirs within each glass of tea

It screeches from tires of taxis long gone

Screams with the children beyond

A wellspring of songs

Of absence and silence

Access to space, restricted

The entrance is guarded

By assumptions, half-truths

All agency stripped

From those most urgent

Identity reformed

For any who dare cross

A closer look: a sinister truth

Even when the wheels of change turn

In the minds of those thoughtful

One voice, systematically left out

Purposefully unheard, and once again

In a reprise of a song sung for so long,

It seems older that time

Change moves forward while some are forgotten

Some are left behind

One truth, blaring louder than a thousand voices

Yet buried behind a thousand more justifications

A truth denied by too many and sung by too few

So bold it shocks yet so simple it can soothe

A truth both static and fluid

Both reactive and reflexive

A truth both overdue and perfectly present

Only when this scream is heard

When walls fall to the power

Of a thousand voices as one and many

Only then can we call this a discursive space

Only when absence turns to presence

When each and every last coffee cup rings

With a song sung by too few

Only then can we call ourselves progressives

Only when agency is realized

When smoke yields to a space free

For a truth older than time

Only then can we call this change