Tag Archives: Moroccan Arabic

Hiding or Fitting In?

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Swearing In Ceremony

It’s been a while since I’ve updated.  The end of Peace Corps training is rather intense.  The studying mixes with the goodbye.  The goodbyes mix with finding out where you are going to spend the next two years of your life.  Anticipation mixes with anxiety.  Anxiety mixes with insanity.  Because every time I find myself realizing that I’m in Africa…I think to myself, “This is insane.”  Whether I’m frustrated or genuinely enjoying myself, being a part of Peace Corps is crazy.

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I’ve been in my final site for 36 hours.  It’s already been more than I could ever have anticipated.  As I walked toward my Host Family’s house, a random man started walking with me.  His English was pretty good so we started talking.  It took less than a minute before he asked me if I was Muslim.   I stumbled.  I knew this question was coming.  So few people in my training site knew English that I never had to deal with the question.  Suddenly I was dealing with it.  I said no, which brought up the inevitable follow-up question: “Are you Christian.”  Unsure of how to respond, I said, “Yes.  In America.”

 

It was my first act of hiding myself.  Many of my encounters involves simply not talking about certain aspects of myself that wouldn’t be culturally appropriate—like a dating life.  But this is different.  I will get this question a lot.  I have been advised by Peace Corps Volunteers to simple state that I am Christian.  Although I’ve been Agnostic all my life, now I have to hide it in a way that I’ve never had to in America.  Sure, it wasn’t always something openly accepted in America….but I never felt like I had to hide it.  Now I’m not entirely sure.

 

After by encounter with the stranger, I stopped at a park and tried to figure out the map I’d been given.  A few minutes later, my nine year old host brother found me and brought me back to my house.  It’s quite a nice house.  The older brother speaks English.  The mother is an amazing cook.  The father is a Headmaster at a private primary school.  All this in a beautiful mountainside town.

 

I spent yesterday exploring Bhalil.  I found the place that I’ll be teaching English.  I explored random road and forced myself to get lost.  In a town of 15,000 or so, I feel the need to explore every side road—it shouldn’t be too hard.  The town is amazing and I’ve already had plenty of random coversations with strangers—in broken English and broken Moroccan Arabic.

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Conversation Recap:
Stranger: What is your name.
Me: My name is Rachid.  What is your name?
Stranger: My name is yours.
Me: Your name is Rachid?
Stranger: No.  My name is Isyers.
Me: Oooooo

 

I’ve been in country for 75 days.  I’m already starting to feel comfortable in my own skin here.  A lot has changed on the homefront.  I’m having a hard time staying in contact with my friends.  Relationships are changing with those I felt closest too.  It’s all a very complicated process.  I don’t that will change.  With time, however, I’ll feel like 800 days is doable.   Right now, 2015 feels like a long way off.  Which could be a good thing or a bad thing.  I’m doing my best to turn it into a good thing.

 

A Week into PCT

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Blog Update for Fes Training One (January 29th)

So my training site has zero internet.  Period.  Even with an internet stick, it would take about an hour to load Google.  So my updates will be few and long until late March when training ends and we are sworn in—finally changing from Peace Corps Trainees to Peace Corps Volunteers.  We have to two months until then.  That time with be jam-packed with Darisha (Moroccan Arabic) lessons, culture lessons, working with kids at the Dalshabob, and the like.

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Our adventure truly started when we left Oscar Hotel in Rabat.  After a week of training, we were truly on our way.  Three bushes took us from Rabat to Fes.  This two hour drive included a 20 minute break in which I got to experience Moroccan candy and impatient Bus drivers who wanted to leave even though there were people going to the bathroom (lucky for us, Peace Corps facilitators are amazing).

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The drive was beautiful.  I became very close with Carrie and Amanda during the drive.  We spent most of our time talking about TV shows (Doctor Who and Breaking Bad).  We frequently stopped to ohh and ahh at the changing scenery.

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We got to the Dalshabob in Fes in the afternoon.  We went out for a nice lunch (I got cheeseburger).  Then we all went back and started saying our goodbyes.  There are so many Peace Corps volunteers in our group that we won’t see a lot of people that we got close too until we are sworn in two months from now.  Our group was the last to leave because it’s hard to get a Taxi on Mohammed’s anniversary—especially when you are going to the middle of nowhere.

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The taxi drive was very exciting.  Apparently the name of my town is the name of a neighborhood in a large town nearby.  The driver thought we were going to neighborhood.  When we got there, our facilitator told him we needed to go to the town.  They all got out of the car and argued for nearly ten minutes.  Lucky for us, our personal facilitator is amazing.  She made it so we weren’t left on the side of the road.  We got into town, divided, up, went with our families, and were shown to our rooms.

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The first few days in this town have been all over the place.  In the end, however, I have become very comfortable.  In just three days I went from feeling like a guest to feeling like a part of a family.  I still can’t speak with them very well (no one knows English).  I live in a house with a father (Hadima), a mother (Fatima), two sons (Sofian and Mstaffa), Mstaffa’s wife (Miriam), and their four month old child (Aness).

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I was not among the lucky PCTs who receives a Western toilet.  Luckily I stocked up on toilet paper in Rabat (I just can’t do the left hand thing…………I just can’t).

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We have language lessons every day at the Dalshabob (and anywhere else we go).  My brain in saturated with Darisha.  I am taking it a little at a time.  The sun even came out a bit the last two days…which allowed us to come out from our classroom for our Saturday lesson).

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On Sunday we explored the village and its surrounding area.  The snow-capped mountains were finally visible.  I honestly feel like I’m back in the Rocky Mountain.  There is no indoor heating, so that does mean these months will be cold.  But I came prepared.  I wear three layers days and night and sleep under four wool blankets.  It is worth it to be somewhere so beautiful.

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I am now 2% done with my Peace Corps service.  I hard to think I was still in America only two weeks ago.  This had already been the experience of a lifetime.  I will keep you—my faithful readers—updated as often as I can.  Make sure to subscribe so you can see every time I update.  If all goes well, there should be 26 months of experience ahead of me.