Category Archives: Personal

The Fishbowl Effect

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Sad T-Rex

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

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Amazon Kindle

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

Market day in Sefrou, Maroc (Photo credit: See Wah)

 

 

Cultural Misunderstandings & Moroccan Integration

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English: Extension of Moroccan Arabic (Darija).

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.

Making a Life-Long Project Better

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I’ve been doing the Everyday Project for six and a half years now.  I knew joining the Peace Corps would add a unique spice to my project.  Two years of projects with weird landscaped and veiled women in the background?  I loved the idea.  It will make my project stand out.  When I started getting used to being here in Morocco, however, I realized there was another advantage to being in the Peace Corps.  Time.

There is a lot to do in the Peace Corps.  I spend a lot of time hanging out with my Host Family, eating, and teaching kids.   But, inevitably, there is a lot of free time.  I knew this would happen.  As a result, I made a nice long list of personal goals I wanted to accomplish during my 27 months here.  Most of them were writing goals.  But there were a few random ones.  Genealogy was one.  Another, however, involved my Everyday Project.

I’ve seen a couple projects that aligned the eyes in their pictures.  They are some of my favorite projects.  If you can find a way to align the eyes of the pictures, you can go as fast or as slow as you want.  For me—without aligned eyes—I dare not go faster than ten pictures per second.  Even at that rate, my face bounces around enough that it is slightly disorienting.  So I put it on my list: Align the eyes in my Everyday Project.

I knew it was an ambitious project from the get-go.  To start, I wasn’t sure how to do it.  I tried several different projects over a week in February.  Finally, I realized the best way to do it was with the Ruler option in Powerpoint.  I did three months that week.  Later I realized I was making the pictures too large.  I started again.  It takes about half an hour to do a month—a little less than a minute per picture.  I’ve been doing this for six and half years.  That’s about 2,200 pictures.  Like I said…it’s an ambitious project.

When I started working, I thought it would be a rather monotonous project.  It is, at times.  But, more and more, I find that that is not the case.  I see my face and realize things.  I have a slight tilt to my head.  My eyes look better in the sunlight than in the faux light of the indoors.  I can see when I had been crying—eyes still red.  I can tell when I just got out of the hot tub—hair still wet.

More importantly, I look to the background.  This is the part that brings back memeories.  I like it when I am not home in the pictures.  It’s great to try to figure out where I was…and why?  Who was I dating at that point?  How long till we break up?  Who was I hanging out with?  What did we do?  These pictures hold my life in their pixels.  I’m loving this “monotonous” part of this fantastic project.

Here’s a quick look at what I am doing.  I am currently 300 pictures in.  If you are looking to start your own project (which I strongest suggest you do) or need any advice on aligning eyes, feel free to contact me.  I love spreading this project.

A Month in Tacoma

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As of right now, I am 55 days out from my 27 month Peace Corps commitment in Morocco.  All that is on my mind, however, is how I just spent the last 30 days…With 55 days left to my own devices, I can think of no better way of using my time than writing.  These final two months will be spent with friends and movies, yes.

But, in the end, these 55 days will be used to write about the last 30 days…

 

Crossroads #42

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After more than three weeks in Washington State, I am finding myself at yet another crossroads.  This one is rather large.  I know I have choices.  Big ones.  I know that I’ve find someone.  I know I want to stay.  I know I want the Peace Corps.  I know I want the career that the Peace Corps provides.  I know I can’t have both…at least not now.

Meanwhile, my dog died.  I grew up with Cassidy from my preteen years on.  It was a great loss…and very difficult to experience from so far away.  I’m having a hard time focusing right now.  So here is the poem I have prepared.

Cassidy

A Week for the Record Books

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The past week has been jam-packed with so much emotion and change.  It’s difficult to even begin the process of understanding what has happened.  It all started this past weekend with a 60-hour trip to Seattle to surprise a friend for her 21st birthday.  While there, I became a part of a 26-hour relationship that has since upended my understanding on what I want for myself in the months and years ahead.

Upon returning to Colorado, I started the process of moving back to my hometown.  The central idea was to be closer to my family for the final holiday season before I leave for the Peace Corps.  It’s been a strange transition.  Now, as of a few hours ago, my father was just laid off.  My God…it’s been one hell of a week.  Here’s the first piece of writing to come of it.  I pounding it out this morning after hearing the news about my father.

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