I will try to do some more writing updates soon. I am currently way too busy with unpacking and lesson planning. I hope this is a good replacement for now.
Monthly Archives: April 2013
Peace Corps Introvert: Episode 7
I definitely think I’m going to turn this into a regular thing.
Peace Corps Morocco: Episode Six
I am going to make more of an effort into doing vlogs more often. I hope you enjoy.
My New Apartment
100 Days Into My Peace Corps Experience
100 Days In
100 Days Down. 700 to go. The past week has changed everything for me. It started with Spring Camp. That gave me the first experience of interacting with kids in Bhalil. Once camp concluded, I got to work on some of the most important aspects of my time here. First, getting a house of my own. As of yesterday, I have the key to my very own beautiful apartment. I will be spending the week ahead furnishing it and moving in. Secondly, I am filling my schedule with classes. I already have three English Classes scheduled in the week ahead. I am likely to get a couple more over the next couple days. Most of them will be reoccurring. This will be the core of my service. All of my projects will branch out from the kids that I teach.
Starting to be successful is changing a lot. There have also be recent changes back in America. It has all brought me to a strange understanding. I now know what I am doing in Morocco. I now know the full extent of the sacrifice I made by leaving America. The combination is strange. On the up side, my feet are planted firmly in Morocco and my service will benefit from that. On the down side, there is no going back to the way things used to be. I knew Peace Corps would change my life. But what surprises me is how it changed me.
The emotional roller coaster that was 100 days of homestay is over. It made me realize how many emotions can be active at the same time. There was one point when I almost exhausted my vocabulary for emotions and honestly felt all of them simultaneously. It is exhausting. However, considering I was an anxious wreck only six months ago, this is a great change for me.
The other aspect is Love. I have come to realize the true meaning of love here. In all forms. I have never truly understood how much I love my family…because I have never had to miss them this much. It is a great thing to realize. The same happens for friends. I coming to realize who I was close to because they were around…and who is honestly a good friend (and how I can be a better friend). As for romantic love, that is a whole other can of worms.
I am ready for the second 100 days. I know that I do not know what they hold. That is clear. I barely understand what tomorrow holds. But that is part of the beauty of Morocco and Peace Corps. You never know what is going to happen…but is usually turns out for the best.
Like being ushered into a random house and given cake, peanuts, and tea.
Morocco is awesome.
The World of 2015
I will be back in the United States in 2015. I’m not really sure when, but it will be 2015. There are some early Close of Services in March. Then again, I want to travel. It’s all too far away to think about with any precision. I will be back in the United States between March and July of 2015. When I do, the country will be mostly the same. It’ll be the small things that will have changed. That’s what I spend a lot of time thinking about.
Family
-My dad will be 58 and getting closer to retirement.
-My mom will be 57 and about to start her last year of teaching.
-My sister will be turning 30 around the time I get back.
-Dasia will be 15 and probably have a Driver’s Permit.
-Jade will be 13 and getting ready for High School.
-Kyra will be 10 and starting Middle School.
-Sidenote: My parents will likely have a new dog!
Technology
-IPhone 7 will probably be the big thing.
-The PS3, the XBOX 720, and independent game systems will be on the market (I want one).
-The new technology will likely be “flexible tablets.”
-Google Glasses will be on the Market.
-Supermarkets will have more “do it yourself” checkouts than human checkouts
-Space Tourism will allow civilians to orbit the moon in a “Lunar Hotel”
-Self-driving cars will be on the road, but not ready for general sale.
-Personal Computers will have up to 100 TB hard drives.
Politics/News
-The New World Trade Center in New York will be open
-The first Presidential Candidates for 2016 will already have announced their candidacy.
-The Defense of Marriage Act will be overturned.
-3D Printing will render gun control obsolete.
-For the first time since I was 12, the United States will not be at war.
It’s strange to think about a lot of these things. Everything moves so quickly in the world nowadays, that a lot really does change in the course of two years. It’s all very exciting and scary. By the way, if you find this stuff as fascinating as I do, I get most of it off a single website. Check it out.
How to Buy Meat in Morocco
Meat hooks at a butcher. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
The local butcher has a shop just down the street. His tactics for increasing sales are obvious—and appear to be working. On the outside door to the shop hangs a cow head. Every day, a cow head will be there. It’ll look very much alive except for the vacancy in its eyes and the tongue hanging slightly out of its mouth. This the butcher’s way of telling his customers that this meat is fresh.
The rest of the cow hangs behind the butcher. You walk into his store and ask for a certain number of kilos. The butcher will go to the dead cow and cut off a slab for you—nice and fresh. He’ll weigh it. Once he has the right amount, he’ll grind the meat up for you right there. He puts the slab in the top of the grinder. Out the side comes ground meat. This cow won’t even be 24 hours dead by the time his meat is in your stomach.
But that is nothing compared to the chicken vender. I have only gone once. With my remaining 700 days in Morocco, I have no intention of returning. For one thing, I don’t like chicken very much. For another, I prefer not to see my meal slaughtered. The chicken vender has a simple setup. You walk up to his window and ask for a certain number of kilos. He will walk to the back of his store, where ten chickens are in a pen.
These chickens are always hiding in a corner. They are able to see what happens to the chickens that get “picked.” They push each other to hide in the furthest corner, not wanting to die. The chicken vender picks out a chicken for you and brings it up to the window. He weighs the live chicken right in front of you. If the weight is correct, he puts the chicken on the ground, holds its head upward, and cuts its throat. The chickens in the pen huddle closer together.
After that, the chicken is sent through a defeathering machine. After a few minutes, you have your meat ready. The one night that I witnessed this, we ate chicken. It’s strange to think that the meat you are eating was alive just a couple hours ago—trying not to be the winner of some reaping. But that’s how it works here.
In America, we hide the process of killing. When we go to buy our meals for the day, we see processed meat, not living animals. It makes it easier for us to stomach. As for me, I’m tending towards the side of America. Once I’m on my own and cooking on my own…I can’t see myself buying meat. I don’t know how to be a vegetarian…but I may have to figure it out.
It’s that or learn how to be okay with reaping a chicken every few nights.
The Fishbowl Effect
Sad T-Rex (Photo credit: iJammin)
There’s a pain that comes with Peace Corps service. At least it accompanies the first 100 days of service. I can’t pretend that it won’t also be a part of the next 700 days, but it will be less intense. It’s something that Peace Corps warned us about. When they told us about it, I didn’t understand. How could I? Now I’ve been through it. Now I understand. Now…how do I explain it?
Peace Corps’ description: You are always “on.” In the Peace Corps manual, you will find a list of Core Expectations. I have number five circled: “Recognize that you are responsible 24 hours a day, 7 days a week for your personal conduct and professional performance.” Add that on top of the reality that you are the only American in town, and you’ve got yourself quite the fish bowl.
This hit me hard today. I wanted to do some writing. I needed some inspiration, so I looked through some old pictures. The pictures stabbed me with memories. Beautiful memories of a time that feels so long ago. Whenever I get like this, I like to go for a walk. It clears my head. But I can’t go for a walk. My host family will ask where I am going. I’ll tell them I want to walk. They’ll tell me it’s not safe with all the dogs out at night.
How do you deal with this? My host family has a puppy. I thought I would love it. The thing is, that little dog reminds me of my two dogs—who died within two months of each other right before I left for the Peace Corps. But I can’t be sad. I can sneak into my room—because that comes across as antisocial. And I can’t cry. Having someone ask questions would only complicate the situation.
But…I move into my own apartment in 13 days or so. That’s the small light at the end of the tunnel. It’ll be nice to have a whole apartment rather than a small room. It’ll be great to control my diet. It’ll be nice to not be expected home at a certain hour. Most of all, I can go for walks whenever I want. It’s this beginning part—these first 100 days of service that have worn on me.
I know there’s a part of me that will always be “on.” That part of me will either learn to adjust or sigh a long awaited sigh of relief when I finally hit American soil in 2015. That’s such a strange thought. The idea of being here two years is realistic now. The thought of returning home is so…surreal. All the food. The flat sidewalks. Movie theaters. Strong Internet. Not having trouble understanding someone in a basic conversation.
I feel like I’m in a constant state of over-alertness.
I need a vacation.
The Signs That Guide Us
Amazon Kindle (Photo credit: agirregabiria)
I believe in signs. I’m not entirely sure when this started. The change was gradual. I used to laugh when people talked about a sign guiding them to their purpose. Now, those signs are what guide me. It is this belief in signs that makes me agnostic. I could never be an atheist. The more I live, the more I see that chaos is not in the cards. Although my jump to religion will likely never take place, I take a great comfort in the signs that I decipher from time to time.
Yesterday started off fuzzy. After almost two weeks in Final Site, I felt useless. I was making progress on certain things—like finding a house and integrating. But tangible things were not happening. I do not have a daily routine that gives all humans a sense of purpose. So, when I woke up to a text message from a new friend, I jumped at it. The moment I left the house, someone called my name. After a five minute conversation, I suddenly had a second place to teach youth in my community. The sign was a good one. I was right to get up and do something this morning.
I got in a cab and headed to Sefrou. For more than an hour, we walked on a website. The hope is that this website can be a place where youth submit their written work. But, yesterday, it was something to fill the endless hours in the day. It filled the hole. In return for the help, my new friend helped me find a cord to my Kindle. I don’t think he realizes how grateful I am for this cord. Without the cord, I was down to 3 physical books to read. With the cord, my Kindle opens a world with more than a thousand books. I will be able to read to my heart’s content during my time here because of a single cord.
I also got pooped on by a bird. I’m not sure how to interpret that sign.
By getting an early start to the day, I was ready for anything. I spent the afternoon at my youth center—starting the process to sign up students for my English Classes. I signed up five kids and left the signup sheet on the wall. To be honest, it doesn’t matter how many people sign up. The sheet has two purposes. First, it lets me figure when the best time to hold classes is. Second, it gets students excited about the class. They will talk to their friends and word of mouth will fill up my classes. Most of them will not come regularly…but some will.
That’s all that matters.
Market day in Sefrou, Maroc (Photo credit: See Wah)
Cultural Misunderstandings & Moroccan Integration
English: Extension of Moroccan Arabic (Darija). (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
I need to talk about yesterday. Out of nowhere, yesterday became my biggest step forward with regards to integration. At the same time, I made a mistake that will likely come back to bite me. All in all, the day was busy and worthwhile. I went to sleep unsure of how to interpret everything…but that is happening more and more here in Morocco.
The day started normal. I woke up late. I walked around town. I read at the park. That part of my routine is set. It’s perfect for what I want to accomplish here. I need to integrate, so walking around daily is a must. I meet at least one new person a day. The reading in the park is something that came out of nowhere. After being told that “I’ve never seen a person in Bhalil read in public,” I decided to do it every day.
When I got back, my family whisked me off to lunch at my mother’s parents’ house. I’m starting to get to know everyone in the family. More importantly, my Host Uncle has taken a liking to me. He tries harder to communicate with me than anyone I have met here in Morocco. After lunch, he took me to his barbershop. At first, I thought I was going to be forced to get my hair cut.
Turns out I was wrong. The barbershop is kind of a local hangout. A dozen people came and went throughout my three hours there. I met several friends of the family. We had conversations about language, indoor heating, money, and clean energy. It was fantastic. Later, the English teacher at the local high school dropped by. We had a long conversation and suddenly I have another counterpart in my work here. Those three hours at the barbershop integrated me as much as a week’s worth of walking around town.
I headed back to my family’s house. As we ate, the conversations somehow turned to how long I’m spending in Morocco (two years). That quickly turned into whether or not I would marry while in Morocco. This isn’t the first time a conversation has started about me being single. Back in Bouderham, it was an ongoing joke between the postman and I. So when the topic came up, I gave an overenthusiastic, “No, no, no, no.”
This is the first time the subject came up with my host family. They were confused why I was so adamant. It’s not that I’m adamant against it…it’s more that I can’t see it. Back in America, I really wanted to have a house and a good job and be more like 30 when I started a family. If my ideals play into it—religion, writing, etc..—I just don’t see marriage anywhere in the picture during my two years here.
Problem: How do you translate that into a language you’ve been studying for two months?
I missed my opportunity to explain myself. Instead, my host mother asked me if there was a girl back home. I said no. My mother decided my “no” was a little sheepish and interrupted it as a “YES I DO!” Before I could do anything about it, the conversation flew by me. I was only asked one more question, “Is she still studying at University in America?” Unsure of what else to say, I just said yes.
So my host family things I’m halfway to engaged. This being on the heels of me suddenly feeling single again. I want to set the record straight with my family…but bringing it up would be inappropriate. The best I can do is set the record straight if they bring the subject again. But what am I supposed to say?
Back in America I would explain it eloquently, “We never officially dated, but we were defiantly together. We never officially broke up, but we are definitely not together anymore.” In Darija, I will inevitably sound like a bubbling idiot. I live in a culture where dating is considered inappropriate. I quickly discovered that it’s not as much of a big deal as I was led to believe. Still, it is quite a strange situation.
Every day here is unexpected.
I love that.
But it’s exhausting.
Richard T. Reilly 