May 29, 2009
It’s been a pretty interesting few weeks. Well, this last week in particular was pretty full of traveling. I’m loving traveling in Morocco, because every experience is different in some new/strange way. I went to a town an hour and a half to the east on Monday to try to find a tiny stamp for my carte sejour, which is the document that foreigners in Morocco must have if they stay in country longer than 3 months straight without leaving. This particular town had the stamp that I needed, but to buy it I would have to buy a stamp that cost 3 times as much. So I then had to travel 45 minutes south from there to a bigger city that I’m becoming more and more familiar with. This city is not in the mountains, and therefore is oppressively hot. This is me talking about the weather in the spring. I’m so very glad that my town is high up in the mountains. My Alaskan pigmentation and constitution can’t handle extreme heat. Anyway, I only stayed in the town for about an hour and then got back in a taxi to head back home. All toll, 5 hours in 4 very hot taxis for a tiny, expensive stamp. That adventure was very tiring, and I vowed to stay in my town for at least a week before traveling again. Well, needless to say, that didn’t happen. On Wednesday Peace Corps practiced the Part of their evacuation plan for the country and told me to head to my consolidation point, which is about 25 km south of the hot city. I was supposed to get a text message on my phone telling me to consolidate at 7:30 in the morning. I, unfortunately, did not receive any notification until around noon. I hurriedly got my bag ready to go and went to inform my host father and the local police where I’d be going. Around 1:30 I finally got on the road, and then realized that I had lost about 10% of my monthly living allowance. Damn my shallow pockets, it must have fallen out when I was getting my phone out of my pocket. That made the first hour and a half taxi ride no fun. 3 total taxi rides and about 3 and a half hours later I made it to the hotel where we’re supposed to meet if we have to evacuate the country. I was the last one of my group to arrive, and I realized that I wouldn’t be able to get back to my town before dark. Peace Corps had reserved one room at the very nice 4 star hotel, and I kind of lucked out that I wouldn’t be able to get back home, because I got to stay at said nice hotel. It was a very relaxing evening I’d say. I took full advantage of the wireless connection and was able to talk to a lot of family via skype. I got to swim in a pretty sweet swimming pool, and took not one, but two showers! The next day I made my way back to my town, and made a pit stop in the hot city to find some big sheets of paper for my artist-tutor. I saw an old man carrying a big bladder of water get struck by a car. He stepped out into the road from between two parked cars and the car nailed him. There was water everywhere, and the man looked like he was definitely in shock. I think the water bladder actually did a good job of protecting him from the impact. While struggling to ask people where a certain bookstore was (people in the city speak Moroccan Arabic, not Tamazight), a nice Moroccan guy with a cockney English accent helped me locate the store, which ended up being closed. We had coffee across the street and chatted while we waited for the store to open. It never did, but I really enjoyed talking to my new friend. Every other statement out of his mouth seemed to end with a “F’in Hewll”. He apparently lived and worked in London for 9 years, which explains the accent. I had no problems getting back the rest of the way.
Today some people in town cut down this huge tree in the middle of town that was dropping a lot of cotton-like pollen all over the place. I think this particular tree has been the cause of my allergies. I was kind of sad to see the thing cut down, but also happy that I’ll be able to breathe easily again. After asking about the tree (I wanted to know if it did the same thing every year), I learned that it was planted a long time ago by the French military people who lived and worked in the town.
At dinner my host mother and I watched a camel auction in a middle eastern country (I think it was Saudi Arabia, but neither my host mother and I could understand what the people were saying to confirm where it was held). I have no idea still what makes a good camel. Pardon me for being specist here, but all camels look the same to me. This might be because I might have watched the same two camels being paraded around, but it looked like 4 sales were made, so I’m thinking it was two pairs. Watching this auction reinforced something I’ve noticed about watching tv here. I am enjoying not being able to understand what is said, because it gives me the chance to try to guess what is going on by body language. I tend to think things are funny that shouldn’t be when we watch crappy B Bollywood movies. I also get to make up my own storylines, it’s kind of like watching Mystery Science Theater 3000, but only without anyone around to understand my tasteless jokes. That’s all for now.
May 31, 2009
Today was another day of travel, sort of. I hiked with one of my tutors to the town where he is a teacher (about 4 km away). I had been invited by a friend of his to watch his sheep being sheered. He paid a group of professional sheep sheerers to give all of his sheep haircuts for the summer. It was a pretty big event, everyone in the area came to watch. I guess I was sort of a side attraction, and I was able to impress them a little bit with my Tam. I watched a couple hours of the sheering and then was invited inside for lunch. What a feast. Skewers of sheep meat followed by tajine with the most meat I’ve seen stuffed inside a tajine. Pretty delicious, but there was a lot of oil involved, so I feared for my stomach’s safety. I turned down their offer to stay the night and headed back in the afternoon with my tutor. We ended up catching a ride into town with a group of people on mule-back (is that even a correct way to say that, they say horse-back, so why not mule-back?) Well, I got the honor of riding the one donkey up the mountain and down the road back to my town. I tell ya, what a way to travel. It wasn’t time efficient, I probably could have walked faster than my poor little donkey (I named him Eeor). It was the first time I’ve ever ridden for a far distance on an animal. I figured my legs would thank me for not having to hike the whole way back, but I found out that my rear end does not have sufficient padding to comfortably ride 4 km. I guess I can blame my ass for being sore right now (you decide which ass I’m talking about). It was a bumpy ride. Now I am tired, and the people I’ve told about my ride back to town think it is hilarious. If I had a little more money, I think I’d buy a donkey and ride it around town. Pretty fun, and I think my body would get used to it. I’ve loaded some pictures of the day.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Friday, May 22, 2009
May 21, 2009
Today was one of those days where I had no idea what was going to happen, in retrospect. I took up my counterpart’s (with the Department of Water and Forests) offer to ride along with some of the foresters to see what sort of work they do. I thought I’d ride around with them for the morning, and then go back to town, so I planned on doing a bunch of things in the afternoon. Well, the day started off bright and early at 7am, and I rode with 4 other guys in their truck to meet up with about 4 other guys from other W&F offices in the area. It was tricky from the get-go, because most of the guys spoke darija (Moroccan Arabic) and French, and a few words of English. I thought to myself “great, my limited Tamazight knowledge is sure going to help me out today.” I found out later in the day that most of the guys also spoke Tamazight, so it was just fine. The task for the day was to locate points on a map with GPS units. These points were supposed to be forested areas, problem was, they were incorrect, so we ended up in a couple fields. They measured the distance to an actual forested area, and then they marked and described 20 trees close to the GPS points. I actually comprehended the task when they explained it, which amazed me. Every year after this a W&F specialist will visit the spots to see if the trees are still there and in good condition. After doing two such plots, I was feeling kind of hungry and figured we’d head back to town and that would be that. Boy was I wrong, and I’m glad I was wrong. We stopped in a small village and picked up another W&F guy and had lunch at his neighbor’s (or family member’s, I’m not quite sure) house. What a feast. We had tajine AND cous cous, followed up with a plate of bananas (you can guess how I reacted to that) and delicious honeydew melons. The guys quizzed me on the basics of Tamazight (what is: table, tea, tajine, house. Yeah, I got it).
After lunch we headed in the opposite direction of my town for about 30km to what I guessed was our last plot point. I guessed right on that one, finally. The area we were in was absolutely gorgeous. I’m happy I felt that way, because we spent the next 4 hours hiking up and around a mountain range, trying to locate that damn point. That was some of the steepest hiking I’ve ever done, and several times I thought I was going to slip and tumble to my disfigurement or death. Some of the "trails" were about half as wide as the width of my foot. It was so much fun. I was pretty tired afterward, but I think the day went swimmingly well, and I came away with some nice new acquaintances/friends. It was nice to come back to town and be able to kinda/sorta communicate with my friends in Tamazight. Well, I’ve got pictures up from my first three weeks in town, including today’s hiking.
Today was one of those days where I had no idea what was going to happen, in retrospect. I took up my counterpart’s (with the Department of Water and Forests) offer to ride along with some of the foresters to see what sort of work they do. I thought I’d ride around with them for the morning, and then go back to town, so I planned on doing a bunch of things in the afternoon. Well, the day started off bright and early at 7am, and I rode with 4 other guys in their truck to meet up with about 4 other guys from other W&F offices in the area. It was tricky from the get-go, because most of the guys spoke darija (Moroccan Arabic) and French, and a few words of English. I thought to myself “great, my limited Tamazight knowledge is sure going to help me out today.” I found out later in the day that most of the guys also spoke Tamazight, so it was just fine. The task for the day was to locate points on a map with GPS units. These points were supposed to be forested areas, problem was, they were incorrect, so we ended up in a couple fields. They measured the distance to an actual forested area, and then they marked and described 20 trees close to the GPS points. I actually comprehended the task when they explained it, which amazed me. Every year after this a W&F specialist will visit the spots to see if the trees are still there and in good condition. After doing two such plots, I was feeling kind of hungry and figured we’d head back to town and that would be that. Boy was I wrong, and I’m glad I was wrong. We stopped in a small village and picked up another W&F guy and had lunch at his neighbor’s (or family member’s, I’m not quite sure) house. What a feast. We had tajine AND cous cous, followed up with a plate of bananas (you can guess how I reacted to that) and delicious honeydew melons. The guys quizzed me on the basics of Tamazight (what is: table, tea, tajine, house. Yeah, I got it).
After lunch we headed in the opposite direction of my town for about 30km to what I guessed was our last plot point. I guessed right on that one, finally. The area we were in was absolutely gorgeous. I’m happy I felt that way, because we spent the next 4 hours hiking up and around a mountain range, trying to locate that damn point. That was some of the steepest hiking I’ve ever done, and several times I thought I was going to slip and tumble to my disfigurement or death. Some of the "trails" were about half as wide as the width of my foot. It was so much fun. I was pretty tired afterward, but I think the day went swimmingly well, and I came away with some nice new acquaintances/friends. It was nice to come back to town and be able to kinda/sorta communicate with my friends in Tamazight. Well, I’ve got pictures up from my first three weeks in town, including today’s hiking.
Friday, May 15, 2009
relaxation not at it's finest
May 15, 2009
I had quite the experience today. First, let me explain what the hammam is. My town has 3 that I know of. It is the communal bathhouse. You go in, strip to your underwear, grab your soap, shampoo, a sock-like loofa thingy that can range from a smooth fabric to fabric that is almost like a brillo pad (this is used to scrub off dead skin), and a bucket or two that are provided at the entrance. You then go into the first of three rooms. This room is slightly warmer than the changing room temperature. You proceed through a second, warmer room, and finally enter the hottest of the rooms. This room is almost unbearably hot at first, but you must stay to fill your buckets water. There is a hot water tap (read: scalding hot), and a cold water tap. I prefer to go with 2 parts hot, one part cold. This is about all I can handle. Ok, second of all, let me explain that I have never had a full body massage, and that I have not been washed by another person since I was a very small child. I never thought that my first full body massage would be from a 250 pound guy who’s only wearing underwear. Now, when people go to the hammam their neighbors help them stretch and help scrub their back. It’s very normal for Morocco, but I just wasn’t prepared for it. A nice older guy (aforementioned 250 pound man in underwear) approached me in the second, warmer room and asked me a question. I said yes to whatever he asked, and he started to mime out what is customary in the hammam. I thought he was just being generous and helping the out-of-place foreigner. My language skills are apparently not as good as I thought. He then took my sock-like loofa thingy and started to scrub my back. No problem there, I have seen other people doing it, so I figured I could try to fit in. It ended up being a painful massage/scrub down. I swear you could make a little figurine of me out of all the dead skin that was scrubbed off my body (mind you, a very grey, ghastly looking figurine). 20 minutes later, I did feel relaxed, but decided that was probably the last time I’m going to have that done. It’s just not for me. Let me be clear, this is very normal and cathartic for people here. I’m not judging, but I’ll stick with a good old fashioned self-washing from now on. I’ve hit my two week anniversary of coming to my site. I felt like I’ve been in Morocco for a long time, but it’s only been 2 and a half months. Should have new pictures of my town and the surrounding areas soon. I’m going on a hike up the nearest mountain tomorrow with a nice store owner in town. He will identify all the surrounding areas for me, which should help me decide which area I want to explore first on what I hope will be one of many future hikes.
I had quite the experience today. First, let me explain what the hammam is. My town has 3 that I know of. It is the communal bathhouse. You go in, strip to your underwear, grab your soap, shampoo, a sock-like loofa thingy that can range from a smooth fabric to fabric that is almost like a brillo pad (this is used to scrub off dead skin), and a bucket or two that are provided at the entrance. You then go into the first of three rooms. This room is slightly warmer than the changing room temperature. You proceed through a second, warmer room, and finally enter the hottest of the rooms. This room is almost unbearably hot at first, but you must stay to fill your buckets water. There is a hot water tap (read: scalding hot), and a cold water tap. I prefer to go with 2 parts hot, one part cold. This is about all I can handle. Ok, second of all, let me explain that I have never had a full body massage, and that I have not been washed by another person since I was a very small child. I never thought that my first full body massage would be from a 250 pound guy who’s only wearing underwear. Now, when people go to the hammam their neighbors help them stretch and help scrub their back. It’s very normal for Morocco, but I just wasn’t prepared for it. A nice older guy (aforementioned 250 pound man in underwear) approached me in the second, warmer room and asked me a question. I said yes to whatever he asked, and he started to mime out what is customary in the hammam. I thought he was just being generous and helping the out-of-place foreigner. My language skills are apparently not as good as I thought. He then took my sock-like loofa thingy and started to scrub my back. No problem there, I have seen other people doing it, so I figured I could try to fit in. It ended up being a painful massage/scrub down. I swear you could make a little figurine of me out of all the dead skin that was scrubbed off my body (mind you, a very grey, ghastly looking figurine). 20 minutes later, I did feel relaxed, but decided that was probably the last time I’m going to have that done. It’s just not for me. Let me be clear, this is very normal and cathartic for people here. I’m not judging, but I’ll stick with a good old fashioned self-washing from now on. I’ve hit my two week anniversary of coming to my site. I felt like I’ve been in Morocco for a long time, but it’s only been 2 and a half months. Should have new pictures of my town and the surrounding areas soon. I’m going on a hike up the nearest mountain tomorrow with a nice store owner in town. He will identify all the surrounding areas for me, which should help me decide which area I want to explore first on what I hope will be one of many future hikes.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
finally, I have time to post again
May 11, 2009
Well, it’s been a long time since I’ve last posted, but for good reasons. I was pretty busy. Let’s see if I can remember what I have been doing the last month or so. I found out where I’ll be living about 3 or 4 weeks ago, and I received a new site (no other American had been placed there before), so I received about 5 pages of information on the town, compared to the 15-20 pages other trainees received who are going to replace other volunteers. About 10 of us in the environment sector received new sites. It was kind of daunting, not knowing what to expect for the next two years. A week after getting the news on site placement, I took an oral test on my language skills. I think I’ve determined that I am a pretty horrible test taker. I am especially bad at oral exams. I thought I knew a lot, but found out I got the minimum needed. I’m fine with that, because it showed me what I needed to work on, namely everything. I’ve got the greeting down, sort of, but I only was comfortable using about 5 verbs. That day I was filled in on what my project would be. What a relief that was, because apparently there are a lot of possible projects in my new town. The following week we had a party for our host families, which was fun, and my wonderful family got me what my fellow trainee dubbed a “muscle djalaba”. It’s really awesome, it’s a djalaba with no hood and no sleeves. Basically I will wear it when I want to flash the pythons: or at weddings and special events. Kif Kif (same, same in Tamazight). Leaving the training town and my host family was hard, because in a short period of time I really grew to love them a lot. We spent 4 days in a bigger town at a hotel before swearing in as volunteers. The swearing in was fun, and I got to show off my muscle djalaba and my tagia, which is the berber skull cap (another present from my wonderful host family), and of course, my pointy yellow elf shoe-slipper thingies.
The day we all headed off to our new sites was again, pretty sad. I was one of three new volunteers that were within 2 or 3 hours of our new sites, so I got to see everyone off. I thought I new the quickest way to get to my site: catch a ride from Peace Corps to the nearest grand taxi stand, ride 45 minutes north, catch another cab east an hour and a half, safi (enough), mashi mushily (no problem). It didn’t work out quite like that. I caught a ride to the taxi stand, but found out it was only for taxis going south, so a nice teenage boy helped me carry one of my bags about 4 kilometers to the other taxi stand. Oh yeah, I had everything I will need for the next two years with me at that time. I don’t think I would have made it if it weren’t for that kid, or I could have caught a city taxi and told the driver where I wanted to go (North!!!!! Allah(move fast)). In retrospect, the latter would have been the better idea, but I guess the kid wanted some exercise, or to torture me, I have no idea. I waited for a bus north, which is what the kid told me was the best option, in the sweltering afternoon heat, before I decided to look for a taxi. Once I found a taxi, I had no problems. Once I got to my new town, I was instantly surprised about the size of it. It’s a pretty decent sized town, and puts my training town to shame. I called my new host family, who I will be staying with for 2 months, at least (more on that later), and told them I was at the taxi stand near the mosque. I then waited for about an hour before calling again. It was a Thursday, and I realized that I had made a little mistake when calling them the first time. The word for Friday is very similar to the word for Mosque, so when I mispronounced the word, they thought I was saying that I was near the Friday. The word for Friday and Mosque is also really close to the words for university and association. It’s probably a good thing I said Friday instead of the others, because they probably would have thought I was crazy. After sorting out the problem, my host father came down to greet me.
My host family is pretty great. My host father owns and operates a café in the center of town, so I hang out there every day and people come in to talk with me and help me learn the language. My host aunt lives right behind the café, so I go there often for lunch or a nap. These first few months I am going to try to learn as much Tam as I can. I found two tutors that are teachers of Tamazight at the local primary schools. They are pretty awesome guys. One speaks English fluently, and the other knows enough to help explain things to me. My host father is pretty well known around town, so he introduced me to many of the people that will be a huge part of my life the next two years. There is a group of 5 guys that escorts me everywhere and that show me around town. Everyone is very helpful and welcoming. There are also an alarmingly large number of people that speak English. Someone at the local government office was nice enough to translate for me when I went to talk to my counterpart at the local Water and Forest Department. About 3 or 4 days in I met a Spanish PhD student who has lived here for about a year now, and will be staying for another year and a half possibly. He speaks 5 languages, English being one of his better languages, so we have had many long conversations. It helps that he’s studying wildlife, which was my undergrad degree.
So now that I have been here for a week and a half, I’m really looking forward to the next two years. I’ve visited with 4 volunteers that are within 2 hours of me, and I finally got to eat a meal without bread!!!!!! Oh yeah, I’ve learned the Tamazight alphabet, which is about 33 letters long. It has only taken me about 4 days to do it. There are several letters that are the same as English. I, Q, X, N (which is backwards, and is actually an L sound), and L (which is actually an N sound), are in the alphabet. It makes complete sense, since Tamazight is a very, very old language, and it spread north to Europe. There are 29 consonants and 4 vowels.
I will have to break the news to my host family that I will need to move out on my own at the end of June. I don’t think they want me to leave, but I need some privacy. It’s pretty exhausting to be constantly bombarded with new words and phrases. I’m eager to learn, though, and think I am doing a decent job of improving every day. I want to learn how to cook, which I feel I can only do if I’m forced to cook for myself or starve. I also feel bad that I am taking up one of the two main rooms as my bedroom, which forces the 7 year old daughter to stay at my host father’s sister’s house. I’m probably going to have to have someone translate for me that I love it at their house, but to get the full Moroccan experience I will need to live on my own. I need to learn how to deal with the lack of running water, washing my own clothes by hand, cleaning my own house, and how to cook with butane gas. I think they may be disappointed at first, but they should get over it. Other volunteers have told me their host families got over it when they moved out, eventually. I will still probably see them every day.
You all can look forward to more regular posts from now on. There are 5 cyber cafes in my town, and I’ve already found the one I’ll use for the next two years. I’m going to try to figure out how to post more pictures on Picasaweb, so I promise to post some more pictures soon.
Well, it’s been a long time since I’ve last posted, but for good reasons. I was pretty busy. Let’s see if I can remember what I have been doing the last month or so. I found out where I’ll be living about 3 or 4 weeks ago, and I received a new site (no other American had been placed there before), so I received about 5 pages of information on the town, compared to the 15-20 pages other trainees received who are going to replace other volunteers. About 10 of us in the environment sector received new sites. It was kind of daunting, not knowing what to expect for the next two years. A week after getting the news on site placement, I took an oral test on my language skills. I think I’ve determined that I am a pretty horrible test taker. I am especially bad at oral exams. I thought I knew a lot, but found out I got the minimum needed. I’m fine with that, because it showed me what I needed to work on, namely everything. I’ve got the greeting down, sort of, but I only was comfortable using about 5 verbs. That day I was filled in on what my project would be. What a relief that was, because apparently there are a lot of possible projects in my new town. The following week we had a party for our host families, which was fun, and my wonderful family got me what my fellow trainee dubbed a “muscle djalaba”. It’s really awesome, it’s a djalaba with no hood and no sleeves. Basically I will wear it when I want to flash the pythons: or at weddings and special events. Kif Kif (same, same in Tamazight). Leaving the training town and my host family was hard, because in a short period of time I really grew to love them a lot. We spent 4 days in a bigger town at a hotel before swearing in as volunteers. The swearing in was fun, and I got to show off my muscle djalaba and my tagia, which is the berber skull cap (another present from my wonderful host family), and of course, my pointy yellow elf shoe-slipper thingies.
The day we all headed off to our new sites was again, pretty sad. I was one of three new volunteers that were within 2 or 3 hours of our new sites, so I got to see everyone off. I thought I new the quickest way to get to my site: catch a ride from Peace Corps to the nearest grand taxi stand, ride 45 minutes north, catch another cab east an hour and a half, safi (enough), mashi mushily (no problem). It didn’t work out quite like that. I caught a ride to the taxi stand, but found out it was only for taxis going south, so a nice teenage boy helped me carry one of my bags about 4 kilometers to the other taxi stand. Oh yeah, I had everything I will need for the next two years with me at that time. I don’t think I would have made it if it weren’t for that kid, or I could have caught a city taxi and told the driver where I wanted to go (North!!!!! Allah(move fast)). In retrospect, the latter would have been the better idea, but I guess the kid wanted some exercise, or to torture me, I have no idea. I waited for a bus north, which is what the kid told me was the best option, in the sweltering afternoon heat, before I decided to look for a taxi. Once I found a taxi, I had no problems. Once I got to my new town, I was instantly surprised about the size of it. It’s a pretty decent sized town, and puts my training town to shame. I called my new host family, who I will be staying with for 2 months, at least (more on that later), and told them I was at the taxi stand near the mosque. I then waited for about an hour before calling again. It was a Thursday, and I realized that I had made a little mistake when calling them the first time. The word for Friday is very similar to the word for Mosque, so when I mispronounced the word, they thought I was saying that I was near the Friday. The word for Friday and Mosque is also really close to the words for university and association. It’s probably a good thing I said Friday instead of the others, because they probably would have thought I was crazy. After sorting out the problem, my host father came down to greet me.
My host family is pretty great. My host father owns and operates a café in the center of town, so I hang out there every day and people come in to talk with me and help me learn the language. My host aunt lives right behind the café, so I go there often for lunch or a nap. These first few months I am going to try to learn as much Tam as I can. I found two tutors that are teachers of Tamazight at the local primary schools. They are pretty awesome guys. One speaks English fluently, and the other knows enough to help explain things to me. My host father is pretty well known around town, so he introduced me to many of the people that will be a huge part of my life the next two years. There is a group of 5 guys that escorts me everywhere and that show me around town. Everyone is very helpful and welcoming. There are also an alarmingly large number of people that speak English. Someone at the local government office was nice enough to translate for me when I went to talk to my counterpart at the local Water and Forest Department. About 3 or 4 days in I met a Spanish PhD student who has lived here for about a year now, and will be staying for another year and a half possibly. He speaks 5 languages, English being one of his better languages, so we have had many long conversations. It helps that he’s studying wildlife, which was my undergrad degree.
So now that I have been here for a week and a half, I’m really looking forward to the next two years. I’ve visited with 4 volunteers that are within 2 hours of me, and I finally got to eat a meal without bread!!!!!! Oh yeah, I’ve learned the Tamazight alphabet, which is about 33 letters long. It has only taken me about 4 days to do it. There are several letters that are the same as English. I, Q, X, N (which is backwards, and is actually an L sound), and L (which is actually an N sound), are in the alphabet. It makes complete sense, since Tamazight is a very, very old language, and it spread north to Europe. There are 29 consonants and 4 vowels.
I will have to break the news to my host family that I will need to move out on my own at the end of June. I don’t think they want me to leave, but I need some privacy. It’s pretty exhausting to be constantly bombarded with new words and phrases. I’m eager to learn, though, and think I am doing a decent job of improving every day. I want to learn how to cook, which I feel I can only do if I’m forced to cook for myself or starve. I also feel bad that I am taking up one of the two main rooms as my bedroom, which forces the 7 year old daughter to stay at my host father’s sister’s house. I’m probably going to have to have someone translate for me that I love it at their house, but to get the full Moroccan experience I will need to live on my own. I need to learn how to deal with the lack of running water, washing my own clothes by hand, cleaning my own house, and how to cook with butane gas. I think they may be disappointed at first, but they should get over it. Other volunteers have told me their host families got over it when they moved out, eventually. I will still probably see them every day.
You all can look forward to more regular posts from now on. There are 5 cyber cafes in my town, and I’ve already found the one I’ll use for the next two years. I’m going to try to figure out how to post more pictures on Picasaweb, so I promise to post some more pictures soon.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
