tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24684149234707457372024-03-13T12:31:53.834-04:00Meg Goes GlobalRead all about my adventures as a Peace Corps Volunteer in rural MoroccoMeganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06332979136566626081noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468414923470745737.post-35172073187488093382009-06-13T07:01:00.010-04:002009-06-13T07:22:30.116-04:00A Long Time Comin'Since I last wrote an entry my life in Peace Corps has completely changed. Where do I start? I live in a new site, I have new work, I have a new apartment, I am engaged to be married… tackling this task of reporting what has happened seems quite overwhelming. In this case I guess I just have to take it <span style="font-style:italic;">imik simik</span> [little by little].<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Ayyur Wissin (February)</span><br /><br />February can be described as such:<br /> <br />1. lots of rain<br />2. a flooded house (complete with ruined books, pictures and clothes)<br />3. more rain<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Ayyur Wiskrad (March)</span><br /><br />As the saying goes, March came in like a lion and went out like a lamb. At the beginning of the month I was overwhelmed with all kinds of challenges. I continued to face significant “roadblocks” in the work department, my house was literally falling apart at the seams since the flooding, I continued to be sick, and I was gripped with the growing sensation that my service was all for naught.<br />During that time I ended up taking two trips to Rabat. During the first visit one of the staff members asked me how work was going and I described to her the situation. She pointed out that I still had 8 months of service left, and perhaps a site change was in order. By the end of the impromptu meeting, I had come to realize that not only was it a good idea, but a site-change was in fact necessary for my own safety and sanity. <br /><br />Things moved fairly quickly after that. We worked hard to get the necessary paperwork completed, while I worked with my community to help them understand why the change was happening. Meanwhile, amidst all the chaos my cat did me a great favor by biting me, thus requiring me to return to Rabat to receive the rabies prophylaxis… on St. Patrick’s Day. I won’t spell it out, but suffice to say that was the best place for me to be to celebrate my favorite holiday. <span style="font-style:italic;">Tanmirt, Mr. Potato Bed!</span><br /><br />In the last few days of March I packed up my dusty, meager belongings and moved to my new site just over the mountains. It was only then it occurred to me that I was starting over completely, and the end of my service was going to be very different than what I had envisioned.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Ayyur Wiskoos (April)</span><br /><br />In April I visited the USA for the first time since I left in September 2007. My cousin got married and I was a bridesmaid, so not only was I going for a visit but I took part in a beautiful wedding that was quite the cultural experience. The timing couldn’t have been better, though. Not only was I able to see everyone in my immediate family, but I got to see my youngest brother play one of his last college baseball games, I ran a 5K with my sister, I spent a day with my World Wise Schools students talking about Peace Corps and Morocco, I ate many delicious foods, and I briefly saw a good many of my beloved co-workers and friends from my previous job. <br /><br />I was overjoyed to see so many people in such a short amount of time, but after being gone so long I became acutely aware of how I had changed and how my country had changed as well. I am so glad I had a chance to visit the States before COS (Close of Service); I think I am better prepared for some of the challenges I will face, especially in terms of reintegration and the economic crisis. But I must confess that by the end of my 2 ½ week stay, I was ready to come home.<br />When I returned from the States I got to work on setting up my new apartment. I had found a place to live before I left, but getting the utilities turned on was quite the arduous task. In fact, when all was said and done it took over three weeks for my apartment to be ready for move #2. In the mean time, I lived with my friend Brooke and we had a blast. In retrospect, as much as I love having a nice place to myself, I wonder if Peace Corps would have approved us living together for the rest of our service. We made quite the pair! <span style="font-style:italic;">Tanmirt, Brooke!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Ayyur Wissmoos (May</span>)<br /><br />I’m not entirely sure what happened to May. It started and it ended and I can’t account for what happened in between. As I recall, I spent most of the month moving in and unpacking, and also trying to establish a routine (and relationships) at my new work site.<br /><br />My work site is about 10 km by road, and 6 km on foot from where I am living. Unfortunately, as amazing as this new site is, it has one thing in common with my previous site: there are no houses available for rent. We’re hoping to rectify that before the next volunteer arrives, but for the time being the solution we found was the only solution. Anyhow, getting to site is quite the adventure. On Tuesdays and Wednesdays I can usually find transportation to and from work because those are souq [market] days. But any other day of the week there are no guarantees. Depending on the time of day, weather, my energy level, and the women’s work schedule I either walk (about 2 hours) back and forth, or bike it (about 1 hour). Getting there is almost all the battle.<br /><br />The work I am doing is completely different than before. I have been assigned to work with an argan co-operative run by women, most of which are married with children. Their product is lovely, but they currently only sell out of their workspace that is about 10 km from the main tourist center. Because my time with them will be short, I will probably only have time to assess their needs, establish some short-term and long-term goals, and perhaps work on some simple projects such as updating their business card, creating a brochure, and assessing new, local markets. They are a wonderful group of motivated, hardworking women, and I’m sure that the time will pass too quickly with them. In fact, it already is…<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Ayyur Wissdis (June)</span><br /><br />This is the first month since last fall that I have felt settled. Having some semblance of a routine and a place to call home is crucial in the life of a PCV, especially one nearing the end of service. In this month we became the most senior PCVs in country and it feels like it. The times they are a changin’…<br /><br />June has already proved to be a good month for me. I was finally diagnosed with a parasite. I’m sure that sounds like a strange thing to celebrate, but I’ve been sick off and on for 11 months and I was really, really tired of it. A diagnosis is good news indeed, and I’m diligently taking all my meds so that I can finish service a happy AND healthy Megan.<br /><br />Now that I don’t have to worry about having a roof over my head or a mystery illness I can spend the last 160 days focused on the things I’m supposed to as a PCV: work, community integration, and language acquisition. Between those things and planning a wedding, I have little time during the week to simply relax and reflect. But perhaps that’s the best way for a PCV’s service to conclude: we’re always learning, we’re always growing, life is always changing, and we’re just along for the ride. <br /><br />Peace.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">PHOTOS:</span><br /><br />St. Patrick's Day in the Rabat (I love cat bites!)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SjOLe-NOfgI/AAAAAAAAE2w/4l-0X9TbM6E/s1600-h/01+-+St.+Patrick%27s+Day.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SjOLe-NOfgI/AAAAAAAAE2w/4l-0X9TbM6E/s400/01+-+St.+Patrick%27s+Day.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346770546829721090" /></a><br /><br /><br />An amazing scene on the train from Rabat to Marrakech<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SjOLP7AusvI/AAAAAAAAE2o/SYGfe2Ti0NA/s1600-h/02+-+Rainbow+From+Train.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SjOLP7AusvI/AAAAAAAAE2o/SYGfe2Ti0NA/s400/02+-+Rainbow+From+Train.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346770288273961714" /></a><br /><br />Moving Day: all of my belongings fit in this truck, believe it or not. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SjOLJ-yOEWI/AAAAAAAAE2g/g6IRuuz6-v8/s1600-h/03+-+Moving+Day.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SjOLJ-yOEWI/AAAAAAAAE2g/g6IRuuz6-v8/s400/03+-+Moving+Day.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346770186207629666" /></a><br /><br /><br />Life on the other side of the mountain<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SjOKsV-gQKI/AAAAAAAAE2Y/5hfWYK4Img0/s1600-h/04+-+Other+Side+Of+The+Mountains.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SjOKsV-gQKI/AAAAAAAAE2Y/5hfWYK4Img0/s400/04+-+Other+Side+Of+The+Mountains.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346769677037093026" /></a><br /><br /><br />View of the valley from afar<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SjOKh8J9ZHI/AAAAAAAAE2Q/VoWD0OTSoRM/s1600-h/05+-+View+From+Afar.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SjOKh8J9ZHI/AAAAAAAAE2Q/VoWD0OTSoRM/s400/05+-+View+From+Afar.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346769498307126386" /></a><br /><br /><br />Lunch in one of the caves on the beach<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SjOKXLYu_HI/AAAAAAAAE2I/hmd7vWskvDQ/s1600-h/07+-+In+The+Cave.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SjOKXLYu_HI/AAAAAAAAE2I/hmd7vWskvDQ/s400/07+-+In+The+Cave.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346769313417067634" /></a><br /><br />A beautiful sunset in Morocco<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SjOKNmG2spI/AAAAAAAAE2A/dgMkz-x5IzA/s1600-h/08+-+At+The+Beach.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SjOKNmG2spI/AAAAAAAAE2A/dgMkz-x5IzA/s400/08+-+At+The+Beach.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346769148791141010" /></a><br /><br /><br />The bridesmaid in Washington<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SjOJ-o0F57I/AAAAAAAAE14/KwSwtfiqRRI/s1600-h/09+-+Wedding+in+Washington.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 288px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SjOJ-o0F57I/AAAAAAAAE14/KwSwtfiqRRI/s400/09+-+Wedding+in+Washington.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346768891819714482" /></a><br /><br />At Brendan's ballgame with the family<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SjOJvaAREfI/AAAAAAAAE1w/y8FfUOxRMWc/s1600-h/10+-+Ballgame+With+The+Family.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SjOJvaAREfI/AAAAAAAAE1w/y8FfUOxRMWc/s400/10+-+Ballgame+With+The+Family.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346768630146208242" /></a><br /><br /><br />Brendan pitching<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SjOJh-duE5I/AAAAAAAAE1o/pE3xdRTnHbw/s1600-h/11+-+Brendan+Pitching.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SjOJh-duE5I/AAAAAAAAE1o/pE3xdRTnHbw/s400/11+-+Brendan+Pitching.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346768399415251858" /></a><br /><br /><br />Teaching my World Wise Schools students. Thank you again!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SjOJRetp2JI/AAAAAAAAE1g/DaMHiRw2yLk/s1600-h/12+-+Teaching+WWS+Class.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SjOJRetp2JI/AAAAAAAAE1g/DaMHiRw2yLk/s400/12+-+Teaching+WWS+Class.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346768116014241938" /></a><br /><br /><br />Argan tree (indigenous to southern Morocco)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SjOI151LDcI/AAAAAAAAE1Y/auhS9K7khp4/s1600-h/13+-+Argan+Tree.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SjOI151LDcI/AAAAAAAAE1Y/auhS9K7khp4/s400/13+-+Argan+Tree.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346767642257198530" /></a><br /><br />Argan nut before being harvested, dried and processed.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SjOIuB5E9JI/AAAAAAAAE1Q/ZFZVeMN_mJg/s1600-h/14+-+Argan+Nut.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SjOIuB5E9JI/AAAAAAAAE1Q/ZFZVeMN_mJg/s400/14+-+Argan+Nut.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346767506982106258" /></a>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06332979136566626081noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468414923470745737.post-78792547028243918652009-01-21T13:32:00.001-05:002009-01-21T13:36:48.645-05:00UFOs, And Other Such NonsenseLast Monday I really thought “This is it; my toes are so frozen I’m going to have to amputate them myself.” I had this thought as I was trapped inside my sleeping bag, under a heavy blanket, clothed in two pairs of long johns (one of fleece), three pairs of socks, a bandana, a wool hat, a scarf, two hooded sweatshirts and three undershirts. The only part of me exposed to the balmy 31 degrees in my bedroom was my left eyeball, and for a moment I wondered if eyes could freeze, too.<br /><br />Getting out of bed these days takes a herculean effort that goes way beyond what it takes to hang laundry on the line in 130 degree heat. [I will read this in August to remind myself] But on Monday I forced myself into a standing position, literally yelped as I stepped out of my sleeping bag, and sprinted across the courtyard to the safety of my tiny kitchen. Let the winter morning ritual begin! The time was 5:30 am, and there was no indication that the sun intended on making an appearance.<br /><br />…Light the stove to heat up water for morning ablutions. Heat up yesterday’s coffee and milk, conveniently refrigerated on the counter. Cut up two bananas and cover them with plain yogurt. Stand as near to stove as possible without catching fleece outer layer on fire. Do small dance while waiting, to warm up the body and defrost the brain cells. Peek outside to see if the sun has started rising yet. Shoo away the cat that has stealthily run inside for warmth and is now staring at the wall (a new and bizarre habit of his). Close door and stand near stove again. What a morning!<br /><br />My Internet day schedule has been completely off ever since Ramadan. There was the GRE, Mid-Service Medicals, a few personal trips, the holidays, my family’s visit and our trip to Spain, and here I am in 2009 trying to finally reestablish some semblance of a routine. So last Monday, as I flew from room to room in the pre-dawn hours trying to prepare for my daytrip it occurred to me that I didn’t really know whether the bus that used to run at 7:30 am still did so. The way buses run around here the 7:30 am bus could come at 6:30 am, at 12:00 pm or not at all. I’ve waited up to 5 hours for a bus to never come, and that’s no exaggeration.<br /><br />While washing my face with the glorious warm water I reflected on my newfound patience for odd bus schedules, and also a long list of other things such as a marked lack of queues, tools that break after first use (or before use), the way in which my neighbors knock on my windows, leaky roofs, bugs in the flour and rice… I had to interrupt myself and move on to the next task so as not to miss the bus that may not come. [I often have to stop myself from indulging in trains of thought that manifest themselves as lists; when you have a lot of time on your hands it’s alarming how much of it you can devote to one subject if you’re not careful.]<br /><br />Remembering a month’s worth of laundry I had attempted the day before, I ran outside with a flashlight, naïve visions of it being dry floating about in my head. The line was underwear and socks from one end to the other, and as I got close I had to blink my eyes to make sure I wasn’t seeing things. My underwear was frozen solid to the line. As the winter sun’s rays made a weak attempt to stretch past the buttes to the east and kiss the jagged peaks to the west I found myself laughing aloud in my tiny garden and knocking on my rock-hard undies just like my neighbors at the windows. Quick check of the time: 6:15 am. No time for pictures. “I may have to try that again just for fun” I thought to myself as I ran to my bedroom with my stack of icy unmentionables and deposited them on the plastic lawn chair in the corner. Get dressed. Comb hair. Finish breakfast. Brush teeth. Slippers off. Shoes on. Off you go.<br /><br />At 6:45 am as the sun was finally making a convincing appearance I locked up the house and set out down the path to wait for the bus. Mr. Potato Bed decided to come along with me, and played his favorite game of Walk Betwixt Her Legs all the way to the road (a game that on more than one occasion has got me thinking that I’m going to be that PCV that gets sent home for medical complications after tripping over a pesky cat). Walking along watching the cat I was only able to glance up once or twice so as not to break my neck. Eyes up. Eyes down. Eyes up. Eyes down. Eyes up… What’s this? For the second time that morning I found myself blinking so as to be sure the vision was clear.<br /><br />Flying across the pale blue morning sky was… well, an unidentified flying object. As I quickly processed the speed and trajectory of the… well, the UFO, my thought pattern was as such: An airplane. We don’t see many of those. That airplane sure does move fast. That’s not an airplane. Moving entirely too fast to be an airplane. Holy cow! It’s on fire! Is it a rocket? It just split into 3 pieces! It’s on fire! Really on fire! It’s headed for the mountains! No. Wait. Over the mountain. What the heck was that?! Did anyone else see that? Oh my gosh, have I gone crazy?! I wonder what time the bus will come. It never comes on time.<br /><br />[Note: I did not make this up about the fiery object because I could think of nothing else to write. If I were to make something up it would probably be about how I was walking down the road and I found a beautiful Chipotle burrito, a tray of Arcaro’s white pizza, a hot shower, a copy of today’s New York Times and a working laptop with Internet. That’s how PCVs dream...]<br /><br />I looked around me. There was another person off in the distance, presumably waiting for the bus as well (but one can never assume). He didn’t seem at all like a person who had just seen a UFO. The cat stared up at me, not at all phased by the fiery object that had just flown across the sky either. Apparently in this here mountain village UFOs are no big deal.<br /><br />I stood still for a good 2 minutes calculating my next move. Do I get out the camera and hope it happens again? Do I text someone to see if something has happened? But who? And what do I think happened? Did I just see what I think I saw? What did I see? Should I talk to that man? What is the word for UFO in Tashlheit? Oh, the questions were making me quite tired for so early in the day. The cat shook me out of my alien daze by pouncing on an invisible something just to my left; I had better go find a good rock to sit on, think about this some more and wait for the bus.<br /><br />The rocks were entirely too cold to sit on, so I jumped in place and stared at the sky. My neck cramped and the cold air made my nose ache, but I kept that head tipped back. I didn’t know what I was waiting for, but I sure wasn’t going to miss it. The image of the UFO blazed across my mind as the sun itself finally peaked over the horizon. And then something TRULY unusual happened… the bus came trudging up that hill at 7:30 am sharp. Right on time.<br /><br />Frostbit toes, frozen underwear, UFOs, the bus keeping a schedule… mmm, and the warmth of the hand warmers I had stuck in my shoes. Now that’s a list! As I nestled into a seat by the window and put on my dilapidated headphones a thought occurred to me; if this morning is any indication of the year to come, 2009 certainly is going to be one for the books<br /><br />PEACEMeganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06332979136566626081noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468414923470745737.post-10763304183891480422008-12-17T09:21:00.031-05:002008-12-17T13:40:32.194-05:00Music and CakeHave my last few entries focused too much on the 16 months that have flown by? Because folks, I remain in complete shock that I am going into my final 11 months in service not to mention the impending landmark of 2009, the year I finally go home. Where has the time gone?<br /><br />It’s complete cliché, I know, but I really do feel as I’m just getting adjusted to my life here in Morocco. It’s only in the last month that my town appears to “get it” with regards to why I’m here and what I’m supposed to be doing. Only now are shop owners, taxi drivers and school kids treating me as if I’m just another community member and not the fish-in-a-fishbowl I felt that I was all throughout my first 14 months of service. Only now does the routine of market day come naturally. Only now do I feel completely comfortable inviting myself over to people’s houses.<br /><br />The odd thing is the sudden realization of this new “normal” occurred to me amidst two of the craziest months I’ve had here yet. October and November brought with them two trips to Rabat (GRE & Mid-Service Medicals), Halloween alone with gobs of candy, the election, a first-time visit to my friend Anny’s site, heavy rains and flooding, unseasonably cold weather (snow on the mountains twice, and sleet in my town once), a fantastic visit with our new Country Director, an unforgettable Thanksgiving, uncharacteristically productive meetings at the Nedi, and many successful English classes. No wonder I’m looking forward to the post lEid Kbir winter routine.<br /><br />So what’s been most notable? What am I itching to share with my dear readers? Actually, the two things that stand out the most during the whirlwind of fall are the following: the acquisition of a guitar and the purchase of an oven. Yes, those two things have improved the quality of my life in ways I didn’t think possible, even more than not having to study for the GRE anymore.<br /><br />I’ve been meaning to get a guitar since the moment I arrived in country. But as luck would have it as many of you know I inherited a “fixer-upper” of a house and most of my budget has gone towards making my humble abode livable. The second time I was up in Rabat I happened to be in a taxi with a friend when she got a text message asking if she knew anyone that wanted a guitar. A couple that was finishing their service and was in the throes of getting rid of everything was offering it for a more-than-reasonable price. I believe they call that serendipity, right? I jumped at the chance and a handful of hours later I was the proud owner of a Melody guitar, complete with a soft case and three picks. I was on my way straight to the top, as soon as I could learn how to play the thing…<br /><br />Now the oven is a similar story, in that I have been meaning to get one since I arrived at site. I kept telling myself “as soon as your butane tank runs out and you have to refill you can buy the oven”. I had my eye on the tiniest fire-in-a-box thing you could imagine, but for many moons the whopping $19 US seemed unjustifiable. Nobody NEEDS baked goods, and heaven knows I have no willpower up against sweets. But again I received a little nod from serendipity when simultaneously my butane tank gave out (9 months!) and the temperature dropped from pleasant to freezing in the blink of an eye. The day I broke down and bought the oven I baked the most delicious apple cake that I shared with my neighbors, not to mention I spent a glorious day basking in the warmth of my tiny kitchen. Life is indeed good!<br /><br />What I haven’t mentioned is that as a result of the flooding (i.e. my house) I was forced to rethink my living space once again. After much deliberation, and days of more hard labor, I changed the tiny storage room into the “salon”, changed the leaky salon into the storage room, hung some holiday decorations and voila!, I suddenly have a cozy space that I enjoy: a first in this house. Now my leisure hours are spent picking away at the guitar, eating baked goods, and wondering why I waited so long to do all these things. Necessity if the mother of all inventions…<br /><br />So after having found such happiness during the last number of weeks it may be hard to believe that anything could top any of this. I happen to know that without a doubt, though, the grand finale of 2008 is going to be better than all these things combined: my parents and two of my siblings are coming to visit. The day that I see Mom and Dad will mark 474 days since I have seen them. 474. Every day leading up to this visit I wake up reworking what I will feed them, or adding one more thing to my to do list in preparing the house, or think of one more thing I need to procure for the kitchen or the bathroom… the closer I get to the day, the less I am able to believe that it’s actually going to happen. But it will, and it will fly by just as all the rest of my time as a volunteer has.<br /><br />I don’t like do too much reflection at the end of the year; I suppose I’m usually too consumed with the next year to come. For me half the fun in life is wondering what’s going to happen next. But I can say with certainty that whether you prefer dreaming of the future or reflecting on the past, I truly hope you are all looking forward to such happy reunions. I hope you’re all enjoying good music, good food, warm and dry shelter, and the feeling of being part of some “community”. You don’t have to go halfway around the world to find those things, but I’m glad that I did. Here’s to 2008; it sure has been great.<br /><br /><br /><br /><strong>PHOTOS OF MY TRIP TO RABAT FOR MID-SERVICE MEDICALS</strong><br /><br />A group of us went to see the ruins in Rabat. Kate and I in front of the mineret<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUlGGRLKzII/AAAAAAAAEho/OjQnYhcK2ps/s1600-h/12+-+Ruins+in+Rabat.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUlGGRLKzII/AAAAAAAAEho/OjQnYhcK2ps/s400/12+-+Ruins+in+Rabat.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280829111572024450" /></a><br /><br /><br />Ruins at the ruins<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUlFhVFEZAI/AAAAAAAAEhg/scazgnj08V4/s1600-h/13+-+More+Ruins+in+Rabat.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUlFhVFEZAI/AAAAAAAAEhg/scazgnj08V4/s400/13+-+More+Ruins+in+Rabat.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280828476965020674" /></a><br /><br /><br />There was a Gnawan musical group outside of the ruins taking pictures. I had just seen them a few days before on TV!<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUlE11YZw7I/AAAAAAAAEhY/5crCqAz6xLk/s1600-h/14+-+Gnawa+Group+In+Front+of+Ruins.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUlE11YZw7I/AAAAAAAAEhY/5crCqAz6xLk/s400/14+-+Gnawa+Group+In+Front+of+Ruins.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280827729721803698" /></a><br /><br /><br />A protest in Rabat<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUlEKbo8XRI/AAAAAAAAEhQ/YYH642o9TqM/s1600-h/16+-+A+Protest+In+Rabat.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUlEKbo8XRI/AAAAAAAAEhQ/YYH642o9TqM/s400/16+-+A+Protest+In+Rabat.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280826984077483282" /></a><br /><br /><br />One of the main drags in Rabat (the road towards the medina)<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUlDak180pI/AAAAAAAAEhI/Y_2XLcPxKl0/s1600-h/17+-+Beautiful+Rabat.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUlDak180pI/AAAAAAAAEhI/Y_2XLcPxKl0/s400/17+-+Beautiful+Rabat.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280826161914237586" /></a><br /><br /><br />Staring longingly at the commissary that is off-limits to PCVs<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUlCy-pzYLI/AAAAAAAAEhA/Kkp-oSZIcb4/s1600-h/18+-+Staring+Longingly+At+The+Commissary.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUlCy-pzYLI/AAAAAAAAEhA/Kkp-oSZIcb4/s400/18+-+Staring+Longingly+At+The+Commissary.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280825481647841458" /></a><br /><br /><br />Good times at the American Club<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUlBo4gC3mI/AAAAAAAAEg4/rabFW8k6GDk/s1600-h/19+-+At+The+American+Club.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUlBo4gC3mI/AAAAAAAAEg4/rabFW8k6GDk/s400/19+-+At+The+American+Club.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280824208685981282" /></a><br /><br /><br />Happy PCVs after delicious toast and the end of Mid-Service Medicals<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUlBG4KFm3I/AAAAAAAAEgw/Og21gOuPEaY/s1600-h/20+-+Last+Morning+At+Toast.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUlBG4KFm3I/AAAAAAAAEgw/Og21gOuPEaY/s400/20+-+Last+Morning+At+Toast.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280823624478333810" /></a><br /><br /><br /><strong>PHOTOS OF MY VISIT TO ANNY'S SITE</strong><br /><br />Anny on the way to her weavers association<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUlAJChcyUI/AAAAAAAAEgo/Z0QwnrVby7o/s1600-h/21+-+Walking+To+Anny%27s+Assoc.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUlAJChcyUI/AAAAAAAAEgo/Z0QwnrVby7o/s400/21+-+Walking+To+Anny%27s+Assoc.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280822562108787010" /></a><br /><br /><br />Anny and the weavers busy at work<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUk-_VCcpPI/AAAAAAAAEgg/VLSw42bGKIo/s1600-h/22+-+At+Anny%27s+Assoc.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUk-_VCcpPI/AAAAAAAAEgg/VLSw42bGKIo/s400/22+-+At+Anny%27s+Assoc.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280821295768708338" /></a><br /><br /><br />Meg and Anny enjoying delicious tea and cookies<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUk-Ze9KE9I/AAAAAAAAEgY/sGy6OgJPDeg/s1600-h/24+-+Being+Fed+Tea+And+Cookies.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUk-Ze9KE9I/AAAAAAAAEgY/sGy6OgJPDeg/s400/24+-+Being+Fed+Tea+And+Cookies.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280820645595845586" /></a><br /><br /><br />Anny in front of her association building<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUk98ORv3fI/AAAAAAAAEgQ/LjgMH2ctI4Q/s1600-h/25+-+Anny+In+Front+Of+Her+Assoc.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUk98ORv3fI/AAAAAAAAEgQ/LjgMH2ctI4Q/s400/25+-+Anny+In+Front+Of+Her+Assoc.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280820142902599154" /></a><br /><br /><br />Meg and the beautiful carpet she bought from Anny's artists<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUk9QKLsS7I/AAAAAAAAEgI/8ks_56QeUQA/s1600-h/28+-+Meg+%26+The+Carpet.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUk9QKLsS7I/AAAAAAAAEgI/8ks_56QeUQA/s400/28+-+Meg+%26+The+Carpet.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280819385889213362" /></a><br /><br /><br />Anny and I walking back from her association<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUk8xPOsvlI/AAAAAAAAEgA/qOz0e-AE73M/s1600-h/29+-+Anny+%26+Meg+On+A+Stroll,+Green+Fields+Behind.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUk8xPOsvlI/AAAAAAAAEgA/qOz0e-AE73M/s400/29+-+Anny+%26+Meg+On+A+Stroll,+Green+Fields+Behind.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280818854668058194" /></a><br /><br /><br />Some turkeys that are probably really happy nobody in Morocco celebrates Thanksgiving<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUk7wbfocbI/AAAAAAAAEf4/2IqDCacC8gU/s1600-h/30+-+Turkeys.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUk7wbfocbI/AAAAAAAAEf4/2IqDCacC8gU/s400/30+-+Turkeys.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280817741268808114" /></a><br /><br /><br />A view of Anny's site from the top of the hill<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUk6ukIVRiI/AAAAAAAAEfw/DOnz-rTGIJI/s1600-h/31+-+Panoramic+View+Of+Anny%27s+Site.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUk6ukIVRiI/AAAAAAAAEfw/DOnz-rTGIJI/s400/31+-+Panoramic+View+Of+Anny%27s+Site.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280816609715635746" /></a><br /><br /><br /><strong>PHOTOS FROM THANKSGIVINGS 1 AND 2</strong><br /><br />Snow on our mountains on Thanksgiving Day... and that's the second time this fall.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUk5uD3kDBI/AAAAAAAAEfo/hyAJAsdxVEE/s1600-h/32+-+Snow+On+Our+Mountains.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUk5uD3kDBI/AAAAAAAAEfo/hyAJAsdxVEE/s400/32+-+Snow+On+Our+Mountains.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280815501543738386" /></a><br /><br /><br />Thanksgiving #1<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUk30sHiXsI/AAAAAAAAEfg/j_oFE1d7u7E/s1600-h/33+-+Thanksgiving+1.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUk30sHiXsI/AAAAAAAAEfg/j_oFE1d7u7E/s400/33+-+Thanksgiving+1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280813416404115138" /></a><br /><br /><br />As you can see I was working really hard to help Anny with her cooking and baking...<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUk3HOurWKI/AAAAAAAAEfY/8sRRHOB_JQI/s1600-h/34+-+Meg+Very+Excited+About+Thanksgiving+2.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUk3HOurWKI/AAAAAAAAEfY/8sRRHOB_JQI/s400/34+-+Meg+Very+Excited+About+Thanksgiving+2.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280812635421104290" /></a><br /><br /><br />Anny and Jessica play take a break from cooking to play a tune or two. It was indeed a holiday filled with great live music...<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUkP3cgggdI/AAAAAAAAEfQ/LygVJDQMajU/s1600-h/35+-+Anny+%26+Jessica+Sing+And+Play.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUkP3cgggdI/AAAAAAAAEfQ/LygVJDQMajU/s400/35+-+Anny+%26+Jessica+Sing+And+Play.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280769483288379858" /></a><br /><br /><br />Amelia and Matthew give Zonga the Thanksgiving turkey a "nip/tuck" job in order to make it fit in the neighbor's oven<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUkPPLlyeFI/AAAAAAAAEfI/rmf6DBfT_uI/s1600-h/36+-+Amelia+%26+Matthew+Wrestle+With+The+Turkey.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUkPPLlyeFI/AAAAAAAAEfI/rmf6DBfT_uI/s400/36+-+Amelia+%26+Matthew+Wrestle+With+The+Turkey.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280768791552358482" /></a><br /><br /><br />Mahri (a.k.a. Decorating Comittee) sets the mood in the garden<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUkOYAUvFOI/AAAAAAAAEfA/2QOPv90eJqk/s1600-h/37+-+Mahri+Sets+The+Mood.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUkOYAUvFOI/AAAAAAAAEfA/2QOPv90eJqk/s400/37+-+Mahri+Sets+The+Mood.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280767843635238114" /></a><br /><br /><br />Our amazing hostess (and dear friend) Amelia<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUkNywxWibI/AAAAAAAAEe4/B-Z88aZNzI8/s1600-h/38+-+Our+Kind+Hostess.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUkNywxWibI/AAAAAAAAEe4/B-Z88aZNzI8/s400/38+-+Our+Kind+Hostess.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280767203805137330" /></a><br /><br /><br />The beautiful Thanksgiving spread (and that doesn't include the dessert!)<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUkNR9SNLSI/AAAAAAAAEew/7WEe0qlKUWk/s1600-h/39+-+The+Spread.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUkNR9SNLSI/AAAAAAAAEew/7WEe0qlKUWk/s400/39+-+The+Spread.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280766640228478242" /></a><br /><br /><br />Meg and the beautiful turkey decor<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUkM57EHH2I/AAAAAAAAEeo/PV8yf_3JJpE/s1600-h/40+-+Happy+Thanksgiving+Indeed.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUkM57EHH2I/AAAAAAAAEeo/PV8yf_3JJpE/s400/40+-+Happy+Thanksgiving+Indeed.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280766227315629922" /></a><br /><br /><br />Thanksgiving plate #2.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUkMJZmbdhI/AAAAAAAAEeg/Se44kPyLkqM/s1600-h/41+-+Thanksgiving+2+Plate.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUkMJZmbdhI/AAAAAAAAEeg/Se44kPyLkqM/s400/41+-+Thanksgiving+2+Plate.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280765393699042834" /></a><br /><br /><br />Happy PCVs after a delicious Thanksgiving meal<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUkLksjPEAI/AAAAAAAAEeY/GSVHDhfG-sI/s1600-h/42+-+Happy+Crew.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SUkLksjPEAI/AAAAAAAAEeY/GSVHDhfG-sI/s400/42+-+Happy+Crew.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280764763130761218" /></a>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06332979136566626081noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468414923470745737.post-87047985780452767982008-10-18T12:48:00.000-04:002008-10-18T14:42:01.874-04:00It's Been Too LongOne year down and one year to go; I simply can’t believe that’s where I am in my Peace Corps service. Five years ago this adventure was just another item on my “list”, and to be honest with you I never really thought I’d get here. And yet, here I am, leading an everyday life in a tiny town in the Anti Atlas Mountains of Morocco as if this is exactly where I was meant to be. I have settled in and day-to-day life has become effortless.<br /><br />I told someone recently that I’m a little worried about this new level of comfort; the “abnormal” has now become the mundane. Over the course of my first few months in Morocco I was positively brimming with stories to share and oddities to recount. Even if I wasn’t physically in Maryland, my mind was still working as if I was there, my culture grounded in the United States. Now when I nearly get run over by a pair of amorous stray donkeys or I kill yet another scorpion, when young, hip teenagers blast Celine Dion or I down a glass of fresh buttermilk and ask for more it seems totally normal… nothing to write home about.<br /><br />This may all seem like fantastic progress. Perhaps you’re thinking “finally she has fully adjusted”. But as much as I’m enjoying that there’s so little left that’s unfamiliar or frightening, I think it’s sad that I’m noticing the “funny” things less and less. After all, those are what shape the stories; the quirks about this experience are what make it an adventure for everyone at home even if the events are a normal part of my life here now.<br /><br />So as I sat down to write the first blog entry in two months (!) I thought to myself “Nothing has really happened. What can I possibly write about?” But in all honesty, if I look at it from your point of view, that’s simply not true. In fact, in August I attempted to climb the tallest peak in North Africa but got sick at the refuge 11,000 feet up and had to admit defeat (I will go back and climb it, the mountain can’t win!). I also got to explore the beautiful High Atlas for the first time, saw the quaint town of Taroudant for the first time, was nursed back to health by my dear friend Anny, and enjoyed an amazing festival in my town during which I got to meet one of the most famous female Tashlheit singers in Morocco. <br /><br />In September I experienced my first Ramadan at site (the last one was in Ouarzazate). I fasted for the first week, but due to the persistent and mysterious mountain illness had to stop. Also, fall began and brought with it badly needed cooler weather, I signed up to take the GRE, I finally met my host mother and a great number of other host family members I had never met, incorporated Bingo! into my English lessons with overwhelming success, ate Pizza Hut and McDonalds for the first time in at least a year (pizza was delicious, but I could have done without the latter), got to go to the beach twice, and was able to visit with a number of dear friends. Life is pretty boring here, right?<br /><br />As I look at what went on in August and September I marvel at the fact that in my mind’s eye those were by far the two quietest months I’ve spent here. You’ll notice that there is very little work other than the English lessons incorporated into that time period: as the summer progressed the girls travelled to see family, and then when Ramadan hit it was simply too warm and too difficult for them to come to the women’s center. Perhaps I felt that so little happened because I no longer had somewhere to be on a daily basis. It was exactly for that reason that most of September was spent praying for October to come quick, and now that it has I feel as if I am on the downward slope of a rollercoaster.<br /><br />Only two weeks of October have passed and already we have had yet another festival, I winterized my bedroom and finally got to hang up some of my clothes, I had an amazing girls weekend at the beach complete with lots of coffee, conversation, used clothes shopping (I tripled my wardrobe for about $13 US), Indian, Chinese and Mexican food, I’ve begun corresponding with my WWS students in the US (thanks for the letters! I loved them!), am working on some new projects with my tutor, have started drawing again, and hosted some ladies from my cyber town for lunch and tea at my house. No wonder life seems to have dramatically increased in speed; and the next few months leave little time for R&R.<br /><br />One of my best friends who was a volunteer in Namibia has told me numerous times that the first year you spend wishing you could leave, and the second you spend wishing it wouldn’t end. I am now getting to understand what she meant, even if only two short weeks ago I couldn’t fathom that’s where I would be emotionally now. Folks, this experience is flying by, and I fear that I’ve already lost time to do all that I wanted. And even worse, I fear that the little things will no longer be noticed in the frenzy of the last year and so I will unconsciously allow the beauty of this experience to make less and less of an impression on me. Perhaps my new mantra should be: Let this new level of comfort not mask the beautiful moments to come in the next year.<br /><br />Below are some photos from the last few months. Enjoy!<br /><br />Peace,<br /><br />Megan<br /><br /><br /><strong>PHOTOS:</strong><br /><br />This was shot on a beach south of Agadir in July. It reminded me a lot of the Outer Banks on a grey day.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPOClXoMjkI/AAAAAAAADHk/n-TK2dY4hSU/s1600-h/IMG_3183.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPOClXoMjkI/AAAAAAAADHk/n-TK2dY4hSU/s400/IMG_3183.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256688768580881986" /></a><br /><br /><br />When I went to the High Atlas in August the blackberries were just perfect for eating. Perhaps this is when I picked up the mysterious illness? Totally worth it! They were delicious!<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPN-VAAxa4I/AAAAAAAADHE/WXjsKEkZuaA/s1600-h/IMG_3242.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPN-VAAxa4I/AAAAAAAADHE/WXjsKEkZuaA/s400/IMG_3242.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256684089317092226" /></a><br /><br /><br />Alex and Anny pick blackberries while I wait patiently to enjoy the fruits of their labor (ha ha ha)<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPN_09W9VLI/AAAAAAAADHM/7p--kWfvh0M/s1600-h/IMG_3243.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPN_09W9VLI/AAAAAAAADHM/7p--kWfvh0M/s400/IMG_3243.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256685737872282802" /></a><br /><br /><br />We went on a hike the first day we were in the mountains and ended up at the bottom of a beautiful waterfall where we all dipped out feet in. The water was freezing!<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPOBAcvdn9I/AAAAAAAADHU/nQpV1U5b2bc/s1600-h/IMG_3251.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPOBAcvdn9I/AAAAAAAADHU/nQpV1U5b2bc/s400/IMG_3251.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256687034786750418" /></a><br /><br /><br />No need for a fridge. The mountain water was cold enough for this shop owner to use as a cooler for the drinks he was selling.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPOB7vkH9MI/AAAAAAAADHc/LmHHM4qG-9k/s1600-h/IMG_3257.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPOB7vkH9MI/AAAAAAAADHc/LmHHM4qG-9k/s400/IMG_3257.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256688053451748546" /></a><br /><br /><br />In the High Atlas is the mountain Jebel Toubkal, that stands just under 14,000 feet. It is the tallest peak in North Africa and the third tallest peak in Africa. This is a picture taken in the first few hours of our day hike to the refuge. That's me in the pink with the red backpack.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPN9iEam4oI/AAAAAAAADG8/kOkI_LpiJOw/s1600-h/IMG_3272.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPN9iEam4oI/AAAAAAAADG8/kOkI_LpiJOw/s400/IMG_3272.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256683214325867138" /></a><br /><br /><br />It took us about nine hours to get to the refuge, and while the climb wasn't technically difficult as the day wore on I became really tired. At this point I was still smiling, though!<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPOHgCr17jI/AAAAAAAADIM/0u8BSYRPTHA/s1600-h/IMG_3277.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPOHgCr17jI/AAAAAAAADIM/0u8BSYRPTHA/s400/IMG_3277.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256694174617824818" /></a><br /><br /><br />We stopped for tea and coffee on the way up. It was about a third of the way into the hike and we were ready to sit and take a load off.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPOFhmebfCI/AAAAAAAADH8/tZEnOD0RF0Y/s1600-h/IMG_3294.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPOFhmebfCI/AAAAAAAADH8/tZEnOD0RF0Y/s400/IMG_3294.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256692002381855778" /></a><br /><br /><br />About an hour from the refuge we came upon this lovely patch of green, green grass. It was the most green I've seen since coming to this country.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPOGwy7VLoI/AAAAAAAADIE/LIzoBCPGkA8/s1600-h/IMG_3330.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPOGwy7VLoI/AAAAAAAADIE/LIzoBCPGkA8/s400/IMG_3330.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256693362933968514" /></a><br /><br /><br />Right when I got back from Toubkal they had a festival in my town. It was a cultural festival with Moroccan goods and music. These are all the decorative items the girls made to sell at the festival, all laid out the day before at the women's center.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPODYMYhnGI/AAAAAAAADHs/Djudq6L-x-4/s1600-h/Panorama+of+Festival+Items.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPODYMYhnGI/AAAAAAAADHs/Djudq6L-x-4/s400/Panorama+of+Festival+Items.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256689641735691362" /></a><br /><br /><br />This is a picture of the road through my town all dressed up for the festivities.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPokEwidHLI/AAAAAAAADLM/na7G9_KOETM/s1600-h/01+-+August+Festival.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPokEwidHLI/AAAAAAAADLM/na7G9_KOETM/s400/01+-+August+Festival.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258555179075968178" /></a><br /><br /><br />Here is the girls' tent at the festival. It reminded me a lot of my previous job!<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPojgu9fW7I/AAAAAAAADLE/RvwVzwqMYgc/s1600-h/02+-+The+Tent.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPojgu9fW7I/AAAAAAAADLE/RvwVzwqMYgc/s400/02+-+The+Tent.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258554560177200050" /></a><br /><br /><br />Here I am getting some free henna in a booth three over from ours. It was great fun and the woman couldn't get over that I spoke Tashlheit.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPoiQLYFWUI/AAAAAAAADK8/G-KjRi835P0/s1600-h/03+-+Getting+Henna.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPoiQLYFWUI/AAAAAAAADK8/G-KjRi835P0/s400/03+-+Getting+Henna.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258553176235530562" /></a><br /><br />Ah, yes. The women could not resist dressing me up in the traditional clothing and taking pictures. That's me.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPohCQSfAzI/AAAAAAAADK0/Bob8ivLEzO8/s1600-h/04+-+Traditional+Dress.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPohCQSfAzI/AAAAAAAADK0/Bob8ivLEzO8/s400/04+-+Traditional+Dress.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258551837524427570" /></a><br /><br /><br />One of the concerts was a woman named Raissa Fatima Tabaamrante, who is one of the most famous female Tashlheit singers in Morocco. She came on stage at 2:30 AM, by which time I was falling asleep unfortunately. But I did keep my head up and eyes open long enough to take some pictures.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPogGtCEiiI/AAAAAAAADKs/J9mTe7DQnkE/s1600-h/05+-+Raissa+Fatima+Tabaamrante+on+Stage.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPogGtCEiiI/AAAAAAAADKs/J9mTe7DQnkE/s400/05+-+Raissa+Fatima+Tabaamrante+on+Stage.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258550814448060962" /></a><br /><br /><br />Traditional tamazigt dancers<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPofOOLzs-I/AAAAAAAADKk/VEzhbRCtlYU/s1600-h/06+-+Traditional+Dancers+on+Stage.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPofOOLzs-I/AAAAAAAADKk/VEzhbRCtlYU/s400/06+-+Traditional+Dancers+on+Stage.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258549844094727138" /></a><br /><br />Here I am, bright eyed and bushy tailed at 4:15 AM meeting the famous singer. Again, she thought it was hilarious that I was speaking Tashlheit.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPn0BTMb56I/AAAAAAAADKc/kjcdlY5DeYM/s1600-h/07+-+Meeting+Raissa+Fatima+Tabaamrante.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPn0BTMb56I/AAAAAAAADKc/kjcdlY5DeYM/s400/07+-+Meeting+Raissa+Fatima+Tabaamrante.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258502343101245346" /></a><br /><br /><br />So as the cold weather settled in, along with it came the rain. My house seems to have sprung a few leaks, and this is my salon after a particularly ugly downpour. We needed the rain, just not inside my house.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPOEZf3AxPI/AAAAAAAADH0/DiKIQjlKCOc/s1600-h/IMG_3381.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPOEZf3AxPI/AAAAAAAADH0/DiKIQjlKCOc/s400/IMG_3381.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256690763655333106" /></a><br /><br /><br />Two of my fellow PCVs and I are working on making an instructional yoga video for volunteers to use at home. Here Amelia and I are prentending to be very engrossed in the filming. We actually took this after we were done...<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPnzRYyJxXI/AAAAAAAADKU/qJuhD6FFU4A/s1600-h/08+-+Yoga+Shoot+Posed+Camera+Shot.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPnzRYyJxXI/AAAAAAAADKU/qJuhD6FFU4A/s400/08+-+Yoga+Shoot+Posed+Camera+Shot.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258501519967896946" /></a><br /><br /><br />Here we are, the whole crew. Amelia, Mindy and myself. We had a great time and the weather was perfect. Now if I could just get my computer to work long enough to finish editing it...<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPnx_qnnaiI/AAAAAAAADKM/EmGbzOrF6PA/s1600-h/09+-+Yoga+Shoot+The+Crew.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPnx_qnnaiI/AAAAAAAADKM/EmGbzOrF6PA/s400/09+-+Yoga+Shoot+The+Crew.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258500116006267426" /></a><br /><br /><br />Meg enjoying delicious snacks after the shoot.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPnxMgVerOI/AAAAAAAADKE/Xa0qnJEdWj0/s1600-h/10+-+Yoga+Shoot+Snack+Time.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPnxMgVerOI/AAAAAAAADKE/Xa0qnJEdWj0/s400/10+-+Yoga+Shoot+Snack+Time.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258499237072514274" /></a><br /><br /><br />This is a pencil drawing I did for my parents of a woman wearing the white veil of my town. I've finally started drawing again after almost a 7 year hiatus.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPnwYRu0hlI/AAAAAAAADJ8/mti1c-WwbTI/s1600-h/11+-+Drawing+of+Tamazigt+Woman.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPnwYRu0hlI/AAAAAAAADJ8/mti1c-WwbTI/s400/11+-+Drawing+of+Tamazigt+Woman.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258498339799074386" /></a><br /><br /><br />I found this giant toad in my garden. Isn't it fantastic?<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPnv7MnG2nI/AAAAAAAADJ0/i3xw91lDDKo/s1600-h/12+-+Frog+in+the+Garden.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPnv7MnG2nI/AAAAAAAADJ0/i3xw91lDDKo/s400/12+-+Frog+in+the+Garden.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258497840208337522" /></a><br /><br /><br />I thought you may all be interested to see how I do things like dishes without running water. The perks are that I get to spend most of my time outside, and the sun heats up and dries them after I'm finished cleaning the dishes.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPnu76UWsXI/AAAAAAAADJs/6to-s0ENkw8/s1600-h/13+-+Washing+Dishes.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPnu76UWsXI/AAAAAAAADJs/6to-s0ENkw8/s400/13+-+Washing+Dishes.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258496752966087026" /></a><br /><br /><br />Mr. Potato Bed asleep under his old potato bed<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPnuRDe56yI/AAAAAAAADJk/ChfwjhI0Yrs/s1600-h/14+-+Mr.+Potato+Bed%27s+Bed.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPnuRDe56yI/AAAAAAAADJk/ChfwjhI0Yrs/s400/14+-+Mr.+Potato+Bed%27s+Bed.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258496016691882786" /></a><br /><br /><br />This is Mr. Potato Bed's girlfriend. At first she was very scared of me, but now she comes around begging just as he does. She doesn't have a name yet. Any suggestions?<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPntofJHQnI/AAAAAAAADJc/3I46TD6DO7A/s1600-h/15+-+Mr.+Potato+Bed%27s+Girlfriend.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPntofJHQnI/AAAAAAAADJc/3I46TD6DO7A/s400/15+-+Mr.+Potato+Bed%27s+Girlfriend.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258495319742038642" /></a><br /><br /><br />I love this picture of him!<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPnszp6021I/AAAAAAAADJU/c3yB41elRdA/s1600-h/16+-+Mr.+Potato+Bed+Closeup.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPnszp6021I/AAAAAAAADJU/c3yB41elRdA/s400/16+-+Mr.+Potato+Bed+Closeup.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258494412101835602" /></a><br /><br /><br />I usually have quite the black thumb, but here in Morocco I have been successful in growing basil. Now I have more of it than I know what to do! I've been eating a lot of pesto and pasta recently...<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPnsJrCT57I/AAAAAAAADJM/dI_wb3tkRyY/s1600-h/17+-+Basil.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPnsJrCT57I/AAAAAAAADJM/dI_wb3tkRyY/s400/17+-+Basil.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258493690847160242" /></a><br /><br /><br />Me, Mr. Potato Bed and the basil hangin' out on the front stoop on a particularly lovely evening.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPnrY1LhQDI/AAAAAAAADJE/MMht4pakPjM/s1600-h/18+-+Me,+Cat+%26+Basil.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPnrY1LhQDI/AAAAAAAADJE/MMht4pakPjM/s400/18+-+Me,+Cat+%26+Basil.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258492851756548146" /></a><br /><br /><br />I made this winter hat for my friend Matthew. Here he is modeling it.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPnqxazz2sI/AAAAAAAADI8/1fupb0HEaG0/s1600-h/19+-+Matthew+Wearing+Hat.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPnqxazz2sI/AAAAAAAADI8/1fupb0HEaG0/s400/19+-+Matthew+Wearing+Hat.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258492174662884034" /></a><br /><br /><br />In October we had yet another festival, although this one was more like a week long giant market and MANY more people came. This shot was actually taken the morning after it ended.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPnqLgtdiOI/AAAAAAAADI0/kSFOm41eCdM/s1600-h/20+-+Road+to+Festival.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPnqLgtdiOI/AAAAAAAADI0/kSFOm41eCdM/s400/20+-+Road+to+Festival.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258491523411839202" /></a><br /><br /><br />Here I am dressing for yet another midnight concert. We had a great time and everyone was amazed to see that I wore the traditional dress instead of my Western clothes. We had a great time and I didn't get to sleep until 5 AM!<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPnnuEGKOaI/AAAAAAAADIs/TOkCDKNYE5Q/s1600-h/21+-+Gettin+Fancy+for+Hawej.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SPnnuEGKOaI/AAAAAAAADIs/TOkCDKNYE5Q/s400/21+-+Gettin+Fancy+for+Hawej.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258488818491341218" /></a>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06332979136566626081noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468414923470745737.post-35445131078684596142008-08-11T10:20:00.036-04:002008-08-11T12:39:47.113-04:00August And Everything AfterWell, I've finally figured out why it's better to frequently update one's blog: I have so much to say I don't know where to start!<br /><br />Summer in Morocco is full of all sorts of surprises, and in fact it has kept me wondering if there will ever be a predictable part of my service. As I mentioned in my last entry, June was full of PCV reunions (otherwise known as "training" and some extracurricular trips to the beach), July saw me leave the country for the first time in almost 10 months and was a time of joyful reunion with family, and August has been like adjusting to a new country. <br /><br />In the rural areas of Morocco such as the one in which I live, most houses are left unoccupied until August when there is a flood of people returning from the likes of Rabat, Casablanca, Spain, Italy, France, etc. to visit "home" and relax a bit. As I'm sure you can imagine, this time is anything but relaxing for the people who are permanent residents in these towns. Travel is near impossible (I got stuck for over 24 hours in a town where they are usually begging people to reserve a seat in a taxi), the market is full of people simply people watching (I was welcomed by more than a number of people to the town I've been living in for nine months... not unpleasant, just funny), and prices for some of the most basic day-to-day things have crept up a bit.<br /><br />But, there are some upshots to August that I hadn't anticipated (almost enough to distract anyone from the stifling heat): there are festivals going on all over the place, every weekend brings another surprise wedding complete with super delicious food and hours upon hours of singing and dancing, and ice cream has arrived to many of the hanuts (although not in my town, but in my cyber town and that's enough for me!). I lived in fear of the Saharan summer for many months, and I'm now finding that the best surprise of all is that not only is it not so bad, but I actually kind of like it. As always, this experience leaves me thinking that I hardly ever know what I will like or dislike until I actually try it.<br /><br />That said, I am off to hike Jebel Toubkal quite soon (the tallest peak in North Africa at just under 14,000 feet) and I would be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to cold nights just above freezing and high temps during the day in the 70's. When I return home I will be greeted with a first-time festival under full swing in my site, during which time I expect to get very little sleep, eat lots of food (especially berkooks, my favorite, which is tiny pasta with honey, almond butter and melted butter drizzled over it - delicious!) and dance and clap my little feet and hands off into the wee hours. Ramadan starts the first week of September: something tells me this will be my first chance to recuperate from the frenzy of August.<br /><br />This leads me to my next topic, which is Ramadan. As you may or may not be aware, Muslims fast during Ramadan. Those fasting rise with the first call to prayer (before day break, will probably be about 4:30 am) to eat, and then do not eat or drink anything again until sunset (the second-to-last call to prayer). We arrived in country the day before Ramadan started last year, and this will be the first time I experience it on my own in my own site. People have already started asking me if I will fast, and so far I have not come up with a suitable answer because I do not know yet. If I were to continue my regular dietary habits, I would have to be very careful not to be seen eating, and not to cook anything during the day out of respect for my neighbors. As time goes on, though, I can see the benefits of fasting with my community. Not only will they be honored that I am trying to understand them in such a personal way, but it would help me gain a real perspective on the challenges posed by fasting during this month in relation to work and health and daily routine. I will let you know what I decide whenever I decide it.<br /><br />Meanwhile, here are some pictures I have compiled since the last time I posted some. I want to thank you all so much for reading my blog; it continues to astound me when I hear people referring to it. Who knew?<br /><br />I hope you are all well, and that none of you are living anywhere where in the shade it's a cool 117...<br /><br /><strong>PHOTOS</strong><br /><br />A great kick-off to summer; all the CBT group back together again to celebrate my birthday. Well, that's not really why we were all in the same place at the same time, but it was fun all the same. And just in case you were wondering, the consensus was that I turned 23.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBqyKiZU6I/AAAAAAAAC4k/8i2CUjoxzEQ/s1600-h/03+-+My+Birthday.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBqyKiZU6I/AAAAAAAAC4k/8i2CUjoxzEQ/s400/03+-+My+Birthday.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233300177059140514" /></a><br /><br />Ah, yes. This was the hike in June when I realized perhaps I ought to break out the bigger hats for the summer sun.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBpvivA6bI/AAAAAAAAC4c/Vt2LAjVfcIo/s1600-h/05+-+Sun+Wrap+Hiking.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBpvivA6bI/AAAAAAAAC4c/Vt2LAjVfcIo/s400/05+-+Sun+Wrap+Hiking.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233299032503282098" /></a><br /><br />Where to go next? Always the question a PCV is asking. Although in this shot we may be looking for shade. I love this picture.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBpMNPR4eI/AAAAAAAAC4U/tlKhzHzMynw/s1600-h/06+-+Hiking+in+the+Heat.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBpMNPR4eI/AAAAAAAAC4U/tlKhzHzMynw/s400/06+-+Hiking+in+the+Heat.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233298425437610466" /></a><br /><br />The heat was worth this find at the end of the walk: a pebble maze!<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBohnZCOVI/AAAAAAAAC4M/enaD-jjiRxo/s1600-h/07+-+The+Maze.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBohnZCOVI/AAAAAAAAC4M/enaD-jjiRxo/s400/07+-+The+Maze.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233297693723474258" /></a><br /><br />The Nedi: my place of work, my place of social interaction, my everything. Isn't it wonderful?!<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBnrlTnjJI/AAAAAAAAC4E/F_K7qVKP8_I/s1600-h/08+-+My+Nedi.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBnrlTnjJI/AAAAAAAAC4E/F_K7qVKP8_I/s400/08+-+My+Nedi.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233296765450947730" /></a><br /><br />These are two kids (brother and sister) that come to the preschool at the Nedi. I just love them; we like to play soccer in the courtyard, much to the amazement of the other women. They wanted me to take their picture in front of the garden the women are working on.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBm4UL9-jI/AAAAAAAAC38/fwWK5hBCZGw/s1600-h/09+-+Kids+at+Nedi.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBm4UL9-jI/AAAAAAAAC38/fwWK5hBCZGw/s400/09+-+Kids+at+Nedi.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233295884682132018" /></a><br /><br />In June we went on the last hike of the summer. It was yet another new hike for me, and the first time I was afforded such an amazing vista east. Look at how many layers of mountains there are!<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBl4_2gY2I/AAAAAAAAC30/FXDADZK6950/s1600-h/10+-+Mountain+Layers.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBl4_2gY2I/AAAAAAAAC30/FXDADZK6950/s400/10+-+Mountain+Layers.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233294796891644770" /></a><br /><br />You know you must take a break from hiking for a while when you all try to cram underneath a bush for some shade.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBlQtrvc1I/AAAAAAAAC3s/P8bKdjzl1CA/s1600-h/11+-+Trying+to+Find+Shade.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBlQtrvc1I/AAAAAAAAC3s/P8bKdjzl1CA/s400/11+-+Trying+to+Find+Shade.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233294104819888978" /></a><br /><br />As much as I loved this particular hike, I had one heck of a time getting out of the way of the smoke. We cooked a lovely tajine way up there, but I reeked of campfire for days.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBkeUS4UNI/AAAAAAAAC3k/Qk2I1v0Ujuw/s1600-h/12+-+Avoiding+the+Smoke.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBkeUS4UNI/AAAAAAAAC3k/Qk2I1v0Ujuw/s400/12+-+Avoiding+the+Smoke.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233293239011266770" /></a><br /><br />Here are Ann and I in Seville, Spain; A beautiful city that everyone should see if they get a chance. I met her in Spain and we travelled down into Morocco together. It was so good to see family...<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBj7gd_x1I/AAAAAAAAC3c/GCSoBhZL8-g/s1600-h/IMG_2512.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBj7gd_x1I/AAAAAAAAC3c/GCSoBhZL8-g/s400/IMG_2512.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233292640983697234" /></a><br /><br />After our glorious trip to Spain, Ann and I took the ferry across from Europe to Africa. This is the Rock of Gibraltar, known as Jebel Tariq in Arabic (Tariq means "the way").<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBjQ_o8xuI/AAAAAAAAC3U/BEZgnhzddxc/s1600-h/13+-+Gibraltar.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBjQ_o8xuI/AAAAAAAAC3U/BEZgnhzddxc/s400/13+-+Gibraltar.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233291910616762082" /></a><br /><br />This the the Hassan II mosque in Casablanca. It's the third largest mosque in the world, has the largest minaret in the world, and is the only mosque open to non-Muslims in Morocco. If ever you're travelling through Casa, I highly recommend taking the tour.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBitfdNOrI/AAAAAAAAC3M/rPCzuy1JNc0/s1600-h/14+-+Hassan+II.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBitfdNOrI/AAAAAAAAC3M/rPCzuy1JNc0/s400/14+-+Hassan+II.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233291300682152626" /></a><br /><br />Ann & I in front of the mosque. We had a great time on our trip!<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBh1tR7EzI/AAAAAAAAC3E/sUpzRvdSDDc/s1600-h/15+-+Meg+%26+Ann+at+Hassan+II+Mosque.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBh1tR7EzI/AAAAAAAAC3E/sUpzRvdSDDc/s400/15+-+Meg+%26+Ann+at+Hassan+II+Mosque.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233290342320247602" /></a><br /><br />All of the artisanal work in the mosque was created by Moroccans. This enormous metal lamp was simply amazing.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBhZfe5TPI/AAAAAAAAC28/DGZqdMyPEq8/s1600-h/16+-+Lamp+in+Hassan+II.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBhZfe5TPI/AAAAAAAAC28/DGZqdMyPEq8/s400/16+-+Lamp+in+Hassan+II.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233289857580223730" /></a><br /><br />Here is another typical Moroccan lamp, very different from the metal one above. This was hanging in our room at the riad in Marrakech.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBg1ghSutI/AAAAAAAAC20/3QDZG66I4Qo/s1600-h/17+-+Moroccan+Lamp+in+Kesh.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBg1ghSutI/AAAAAAAAC20/3QDZG66I4Qo/s400/17+-+Moroccan+Lamp+in+Kesh.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233289239383423698" /></a><br /><br />No matter where you are in this country, the sunsets are truly spectacular.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBgXYsOiyI/AAAAAAAAC2s/GpOyXoqs9kQ/s1600-h/18+-+African+Sunset+(on+way+to+Agadir).JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBgXYsOiyI/AAAAAAAAC2s/GpOyXoqs9kQ/s400/18+-+African+Sunset+(on+way+to+Agadir).JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233288721885727522" /></a><br /><br />At the end of July we had a glorious week of evening thunderstorms. There wasn't much rain to accompany the thunder and lightning, but it was wonderful nonetheless. Here I am watching the clouds roll in from the safety of my little kitchen.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBf_rAewpI/AAAAAAAAC2k/k82zUjK5AJk/s1600-h/19+-+Waiting+for+Rain.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBf_rAewpI/AAAAAAAAC2k/k82zUjK5AJk/s400/19+-+Waiting+for+Rain.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233288314485654162" /></a><br /><br />This is the sun rising in my site. My host sister, her niece and I decided to exercise one morning. Our leisurely walk turned into an 8 mile hike.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBfdYoXAZI/AAAAAAAAC2c/YH_SduwpDLg/s1600-h/20+-+Sunrise+in+Site.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBfdYoXAZI/AAAAAAAAC2c/YH_SduwpDLg/s400/20+-+Sunrise+in+Site.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233287725437092242" /></a><br /><br />A few of us were travelling in a grand taxi when it broke down. Without a word, the driver left in another truck. He did eventually return, but we were all struck with how normal it all seemed. We have been in this country long enough to know that everything works out in the end.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBfHRmisfI/AAAAAAAAC2U/sWneBMv6tsM/s1600-h/21+-+Taxi+Stop.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBfHRmisfI/AAAAAAAAC2U/sWneBMv6tsM/s400/21+-+Taxi+Stop.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233287345593299442" /></a><br /><br />Just another beautiful African sunset.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBeiRnQS-I/AAAAAAAAC2M/O87L-8VB1HI/s1600-h/22+-+Another+Sunset.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBeiRnQS-I/AAAAAAAAC2M/O87L-8VB1HI/s400/22+-+Another+Sunset.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233286709941128162" /></a><br /><br />I went to a wedding last weekend, and for the first time wore the traditional outfit of the women in my town. I borrowed the whole thing from top to bottom: kaftan (the goldish layer), black skirt (saia) and the white veil (zif) that I'm not wearing yet in this picture.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBeC3v6ZyI/AAAAAAAAC2E/cIUZZFSIabI/s1600-h/23+-+Trad+Dress+Front.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBeC3v6ZyI/AAAAAAAAC2E/cIUZZFSIabI/s400/23+-+Trad+Dress+Front.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233286170422175522" /></a><br /><br />The view from the back. Good thing that belt had elastic because I ate well that evening!<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBdpFlp33I/AAAAAAAAC18/0A0Mob_UHsk/s1600-h/24+-+Trad+Dress+Back.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBdpFlp33I/AAAAAAAAC18/0A0Mob_UHsk/s400/24+-+Trad+Dress+Back.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233285727460646770" /></a><br /><br />Here we are on the way up the hill to the wedding. We sang songs while we walked. The sun was hot, but our spirits were up and I was busy trying to figure out how to keep the veil on my head with the wind blowing.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBdbLS_blI/AAAAAAAAC10/d8G41zSSRH0/s1600-h/25+-+On+Way+to+Wedding.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBdbLS_blI/AAAAAAAAC10/d8G41zSSRH0/s400/25+-+On+Way+to+Wedding.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233285488474811986" /></a><br /><br />We were at the wedding from 11 am until 10 pm. The temperature inside was in excess of 120 F, but that didn't stop us from dancing, singing, drumming and clapping to our hearts' content!<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBc2AKmxbI/AAAAAAAAC1s/cT8fQDQhTbw/s1600-h/26+-+At+Wedding.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBc2AKmxbI/AAAAAAAAC1s/cT8fQDQhTbw/s400/26+-+At+Wedding.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233284849831691698" /></a><br /><br />Here is the large drum they use at most gatherings. It's made from wood and cowhide.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBcOnohcYI/AAAAAAAAC1k/pxO4IrqK2Rc/s1600-h/27+-+Tamazigt+Drum.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBcOnohcYI/AAAAAAAAC1k/pxO4IrqK2Rc/s400/27+-+Tamazigt+Drum.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233284173231387010" /></a><br /><br />I wish I knew the proper words for these instruments. This is the handheld drum that everyone seems to know how to play excedingly well.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBbdPkEggI/AAAAAAAAC1c/6wCwncD0QiE/s1600-h/28+-+More+Tamazigt+Drum.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SKBbdPkEggI/AAAAAAAAC1c/6wCwncD0QiE/s400/28+-+More+Tamazigt+Drum.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233283324956672514" /></a>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06332979136566626081noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468414923470745737.post-24419527902784727392008-07-27T16:54:00.002-04:002008-07-27T16:57:49.900-04:00Summer, Sweet SummerI simply cannot believe how quickly the time is passing here. Since I last posted the last entry in May I went to In-Service Training (IST) and for the first time saw the whole group of volunteers I trained with, I celebrated my birthday, I finally met my host mother, we celebrated 300 days in country, I traveled to Spain (a new country on my list of travels) and I got to see my sister Ann!<br /><br />The first week of June our whole training group (both Small Business Development and Youth Development) met on the Atlantic coast for a week of training, information sharing, and a whole lot R&R. It was wonderful to see and talk to people that I hadn’t been in touch with for six months; what amazed me was how different each individual situation seems to be, and yet how much we all have in common in the way of adjusting to Moroccan life. I would love to say that my favorite part of the week was what I learned about development, or some great new work ideas I was struck with, but really it was the swimming pool and the company. I spent just about every waking moment I could submersed in that beautiful water (water!), and every other moment was spent with friends in good conversation and hilarious adventures. I’m sure this isn’t the goal that Peace Corps has in mind when they get us all together for training, but it was obvious that we all in need of culturally familiar contact with other “expats”. The week ended up being (at least for me) completely about reconnecting with old friends, making new friends, and coming to the realization that my lack of work is not unique but my site assignment (and the people I live with) are truly special. Those of us in the Souss came away from IST knowing that we have truly been blessed in Peace Corps Morocco with safe, friendly, beautiful, relaxed sites.<br /><br />I was even more fortunate to celebrate my birthday while we were all together during training! I did feel slightly guilty that I was the only person to enjoy this honor, but that sentiment didn’t get in the way of a good time. A big group of us went out for a night of tapas and cold beverages, and I believe a good time was had by all. Not to mention that I got to talk to all my family members, received amazing (and unnecessary!) gifts from many friends, and was asked (more than once) if I was turning 23. Yes, it was a happy day indeed.<br /><br />After IST we all headed back to our sites. I would love to report that I went back rejuvenated and ready to face the task at hand (whatever that is exactly), but really I found myself toughing out a week of sadness that IST was over so soon. I think reconnecting with people that speak your own language, and to whom you do not need to explain any of your actions is a hard thing to leave after being without it for so many months; in a way my fellow PCVs have become my family. However, I do feel so fortunate because now I’m in contact with some volunteers that I wasn’t before and I’m able to put so much of this experience into perspective in a way I simply couldn’t until now. Once again I find myself comparing this experience to a roller coaster, and the ups and downs of the last two months are (I’m sure) completely normal.<br /><br />As the first week of July quickly approached I distracted myself with figuring out the next adventure: my trip to Spain to meet up with my sister Ann (and our subsequent trip down into Morocco). I must admit that the reality of this plan did not hit me until two weeks later when I was looking out a plane window watching Morocco’s coast disappear behind me. I simply could not believe that after so many months I was leaving Morocco, and to see a family member (at last!) in a country I had never been to.<br /><br />Nine months, twenty seven days: that’s how long it had been since I had seen any family member, or for that matter anyone who knew me before I became a PCV. Seeing Ann was just as exciting and fulfilling as I had anticipated. I need to mention that from the moment that I arrived in Madrid I suffered a serious bout of culture shock. From the smoothly paved roads to the fancy taxi, the green plants everywhere to the familiar music pumping out of the radio, I knew I was not in Kansas anymore. <br /><br />Our trip in Spain was unforgettable. We only hit two cities (Madrid and Seville), but to us it seemed the perfect blend of the familiar and unfamiliar and we were both reluctant to ever leave. Perhaps the most beautiful thing about our trip, however, was that it gave my sister and I a chance to get to know each other in a way we might not have been able to do in any other setting. I have always believed traveling with people is one of the best ways to get to know them better; this was no exception. We made great travel partners (after I got over my culture shock) and we seemed to share just one goal between us: have fun!<br /><br />Our Spain adventure was over as soon as it began, and the lingering trip across the Straights of Gibraltar on a ferry was a perfect transition to the next phase of our trip. Morocco and Spain are both beautiful countries, but they are nothing alike. We only traveled a handful of kilometers, but the new continent and totally different culture made it seem as if we had gone halfway around the world to arrive at our next destination.<br /><br />In Morocco we spent a great deal of time traveling to my site by taxi and bus. It astonished both of us just how far everything seems, but again it gave us time to catch up on news about friends and family, recount our tales of Spain, as well as talk about my experience in Peace Corps. I was so pleased that Ann really seemed to prefer my lovely little rural mountain town to the hustle and bustle of places like Casablanca and Marrakech. As time goes on I am more and more convinced that in order to get to know the real Morocco you simply must visit a small town and talk to the locals. Ann was treated to a rare feast of berkooks at my host family’s house (a super delicious food that is usually only served when someone is announcing an engagement), got to spend time with the new baby in the family, and we even went for a short walk where she got to see some of the girls in their most relaxed environment. For being in my site such a short time, I think Ann got to see a great deal of what my life here is really like.<br /><br />We ended our trip with a few relaxing days in Marrakech. I think we both had a great time there, but the last part of our trip was bittersweet; it marked the inevitable end to one of the best vacations I’ve ever had. Our goodbye was rushed, and I suddenly found myself alone once again. But now I had fresh memories to ponder in my head until the next visit…<br /><br />Adjusting back into my rural life has been something of a struggle. I was amazed at how quickly I embraced dressing up and going out while in Spain, and I am even more amazed at how much I crave it now that I’m back to less-flattering clothing and muted behavior. Also, I was becoming a bit spoiled by the availability of showers and such, and bucket bathing has not been the same since. But I am struck with a new appreciation for my life here that perhaps I wasn’t able to grasp before. Here in my town I am one of “them” now. Nobody harasses me when I walk down the street (or even does a double-take anymore), I don’t have to haggle with a taxi driver to turn on his meter even if I am a foreigner, I pay the same prices as everyone else, and people here have accepted me for the way I dress and the things that I do. I wrote this a few months back and it still remains true; for better or worse, this is now my home.<br /><br />Coming home brought with it some surprises however, that will pose a few new challenges to me over the coming months. My English classes are going great, but the girls from my old village do not attend because of an ongoing riff they have with the opposing village. Also, there are only two shoe artists left in the group, since a number of them (including one of my best friends, RbiE) married and moved away while I was on vacation. Finally, the scorpions are coming out in full force and I seem to be unable to get a handle on them. There’s one living in my bathroom that I cannot seem to defeat (which poses a whole new set of problems that I will spare you), and another one stung poor Mr. Potato Bed the other day after I thought I had killed it. Those little guys are fast and sneaky, and something tells me that August is going to be much worse. <br /><br />Finally, I must mention that a most amazing event occurred the day before yesterday: it rained! I looked at my calendar, and it had been 119 days since the last time any drop had come out of the sky. There wasn’t a lot of it, but the drops were large and glorious and I danced amongst them in the courtyard while the cat timidly watched from the crack underneath the kitchen door. For the rest of the week every day we got some thunder, random spurts of rain, and even some lightning! I can’t express how exciting this has been. Of course, it’s still unbearably hot.<br /><br />This place continues to amaze and surprise me. I miss Ann, I miss the cultural freedom I enjoyed in Spain, I miss the “me” that I was reintroduced to on my trip, and I know that someday I’m going to miss my home in Morocco as well. For now I just simply have to keep on keepin’ on and appreciate my assignment for all its strengths and weaknesses. But being (for even a moment) in a culture more like my own, acting the person I know to be most true to my real self, and seeing family has rehashed longing that had mostly disappeared after nine months and twenty seven days. I look to the remaining 16 months of my service with a new found curiosity and anticipation.Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06332979136566626081noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468414923470745737.post-83829467317521941552008-05-26T11:21:00.015-04:002008-07-10T08:14:23.930-04:00Springtime in the Anti Atlas[So, this post is already outdated. But I thought you would all still enjoy the entry. I'll post all the post-IST toughts and pictures as soon as I digest the last crazy week.]<br /><br />Hello! Well, as we prepare for our In-Service Training (which marks a third of our service!) things have suddenly gotten quite hectic. None of my spring projects are complete, but at least I know I'll be busy during the summer.<br /><br />Here are some photos from the last few weeks. Enjoy!<br /><br />Peace,<br /><br />Megan<br /><br /><strong>PHOTOS:</strong> <br /><br />Introducing.... Mr. Potato Bed!<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrbLpd8XKI/AAAAAAAACzo/HU49Crqwjto/s1600-h/01+-+Mr.+Potato+Bed+Stats.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrbLpd8XKI/AAAAAAAACzo/HU49Crqwjto/s400/01+-+Mr.+Potato+Bed+Stats.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204713312536517794" /></a><br /><br />Mahri, Sue, Brooke and I recently went on a beautiful hike over the mountains.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrbE5d8XJI/AAAAAAAACzg/8f-Q4uEVrO4/s1600-h/02+-+Three+Girls+Hiking.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrbE5d8XJI/AAAAAAAACzg/8f-Q4uEVrO4/s400/02+-+Three+Girls+Hiking.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204713196572400786" /></a><br /><br />Yes! Goats in trees are not just a myth!<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDra4Jd8XII/AAAAAAAACzY/1Rx7koD4WOk/s1600-h/03+-+Goat+in+a+Tree!.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDra4Jd8XII/AAAAAAAACzY/1Rx7koD4WOk/s400/03+-+Goat+in+a+Tree!.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204712977529068674" /></a><br /><br />There was a cool little cave inside this rock. Mahri and I went in to check it out.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDratZd8XHI/AAAAAAAACzQ/4Z4AnIE9g8A/s1600-h/04+-+Hole+in+Rock.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDratZd8XHI/AAAAAAAACzQ/4Z4AnIE9g8A/s400/04+-+Hole+in+Rock.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204712792845474930" /></a><br /><br />Looking out from the cave at Sue and Brooke.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrajpd8XGI/AAAAAAAACzI/UavjiPMBR6I/s1600-h/05+-+Lookin+Out+from+Hole.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrajpd8XGI/AAAAAAAACzI/UavjiPMBR6I/s400/05+-+Lookin+Out+from+Hole.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204712625341750370" /></a><br /><br />We also got to hike in a forest! A forest! I felt so happy and homesick all at the same time.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDraaZd8XFI/AAAAAAAACzA/E7Uoy-aq464/s1600-h/06-+Hiking+in+Forest.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDraaZd8XFI/AAAAAAAACzA/E7Uoy-aq464/s400/06-+Hiking+in+Forest.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204712466427960402" /></a><br /><br />Mostly happy, though!<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDraO5d8XEI/AAAAAAAACy4/wxreFSenLNU/s1600-h/07+-+Me+Happy+in+Forest.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDraO5d8XEI/AAAAAAAACy4/wxreFSenLNU/s400/07+-+Me+Happy+in+Forest.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204712268859464770" /></a><br /><br />Just a lovely wall with some lovely flowers.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrZ15d8XDI/AAAAAAAACyw/kR8pccsMXAU/s1600-h/08+-+Beautiful+Wall+With+Flowers.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrZ15d8XDI/AAAAAAAACyw/kR8pccsMXAU/s400/08+-+Beautiful+Wall+With+Flowers.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204711839362735154" /></a><br /><br />Moon rising over my cyber town.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrZrpd8XCI/AAAAAAAACyo/k4mkuw7sSng/s1600-h/09+-+Moon+Rise.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrZrpd8XCI/AAAAAAAACyo/k4mkuw7sSng/s400/09+-+Moon+Rise.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204711663269076002" /></a><br /><br />Anny came to visit at the beginning of May. We walked about 45 mins to the kasbah and had tea at the top.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrY_Zd8XBI/AAAAAAAACyg/l_wxH2h2KQo/s1600-h/10+-+Anny+%26+Tea.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrY_Zd8XBI/AAAAAAAACyg/l_wxH2h2KQo/s400/10+-+Anny+%26+Tea.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204710903059864594" /></a><br /><br />Flyaway.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrY0Jd8XAI/AAAAAAAACyY/85GjfSVTNxU/s1600-h/11+-+Me,+Flyaway+%26+Tea.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrY0Jd8XAI/AAAAAAAACyY/85GjfSVTNxU/s400/11+-+Me,+Flyaway+%26+Tea.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204710709786336258" /></a><br /><br />This sunset was even more amazing than in this picture. We got to enjoy this view on the walk back.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrYcpd8W-I/AAAAAAAACyI/5ti8hYvuX2c/s1600-h/13+-+Mountain+%26+Sunset.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrYcpd8W-I/AAAAAAAACyI/5ti8hYvuX2c/s400/13+-+Mountain+%26+Sunset.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204710306059410402" /></a><br /><br />Mr. Potato Bed finally stops moving for a bit.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrYTJd8W9I/AAAAAAAACyA/LhsFOsfTurQ/s1600-h/14+-+Mr.+Potato+Bed+Sleeps.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrYTJd8W9I/AAAAAAAACyA/LhsFOsfTurQ/s400/14+-+Mr.+Potato+Bed+Sleeps.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204710142850653138" /></a><br /><br />Some tiny little drops of water came out of the faucet a few weeks ago. And then they went away again. It was so sad.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrYHJd8W8I/AAAAAAAACx4/WyH6AeRMD_0/s1600-h/15+-+Tiny+Drops+of+Water.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrYHJd8W8I/AAAAAAAACx4/WyH6AeRMD_0/s400/15+-+Tiny+Drops+of+Water.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204709936692222914" /></a><br /><br />The girls and I went on a new hike recently, which ended up being half the hike to the tallest mountain in the area.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrX5Jd8W7I/AAAAAAAACxw/3jsS6u6XoNs/s1600-h/16+-+Hike+Up+1.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrX5Jd8W7I/AAAAAAAACxw/3jsS6u6XoNs/s400/16+-+Hike+Up+1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204709696174054322" /></a><br /><br />Just to give you an idea of the incline we hiked up.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrXrZd8W6I/AAAAAAAACxo/5D8lB0_SkXk/s1600-h/17+-+Looking+Down.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrXrZd8W6I/AAAAAAAACxo/5D8lB0_SkXk/s400/17+-+Looking+Down.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204709459950853026" /></a><br /><br />Happy me again! How did I end up with the only female hikers I've heard of in Morocco? Soooo lucky!<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrXeJd8W5I/AAAAAAAACxg/iknZG1E2bFE/s1600-h/18+-+Hiking+Meg.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrXeJd8W5I/AAAAAAAACxg/iknZG1E2bFE/s400/18+-+Hiking+Meg.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204709232317586322" /></a><br /><br />We found these tiny apples growing way out in the middle of nowhere. Just like Granny Smith.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrWGZd8W4I/AAAAAAAACxY/pVElcqNBCqA/s1600-h/19+-+Tiny+Apples.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrWGZd8W4I/AAAAAAAACxY/pVElcqNBCqA/s400/19+-+Tiny+Apples.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204707724784065410" /></a><br /><br />My friend RbiE walking along the crest after a lovely picnic.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrVy5d8W3I/AAAAAAAACxQ/lLH4WaZMMZo/s1600-h/20+-+RbiE+Walking+Along+Edge.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SDrVy5d8W3I/AAAAAAAACxQ/lLH4WaZMMZo/s400/20+-+RbiE+Walking+Along+Edge.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204707389776616306" /></a>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06332979136566626081noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468414923470745737.post-27165781153724592012008-05-19T12:35:00.002-04:002008-05-19T12:50:11.809-04:00A New NormalIt’s not often that I wake up before the first call to prayer. But yesterday morning was an exception and I dragged myself out of bed at 4:15 AM to be sure I would be on time. It had been a long time since we had all gone on a Sunday hike and being the furthest one from the meeting point I wanted to make sure I wasn’t the one to keep the girls waiting. <br /><br />I got dressed in the dark and walked across the blustery courtyard to my cozy little kitchen (the temperature was an unseasonable 42 F). My little cat Mr. Potato Bed, who has stopped sleeping on the potatoes and has now taken up residence next to the new mini-fridge in an empty cookie box, looked at me as if I was crazy. I could almost hear him saying “you’re never up before me!” I lit the stove, put my little coffee maker on the fire, and pulled the cinnamon pancake batter out of the fridge. I was excited to surprise the girls with a tasty American treat in addition to the 2 kilos of oranges I had already neatly packed in my backpack.<br /><br />As I shuffled about the kitchen cooking little silver dollar-sized pancakes and eagerly awaiting the sound of the coffee gurgle to signal it was ready to consume, I looked at the clock: 4:45 it read. Excellent, I thought. Just enough time to sit down and have breakfast before I had to head out. I pulled up one of my plastic stools and rummaged through the stack of Newsweeks I had just received (2 months late as usual). It was then that my phone signaled a message had been received, and to my dismay I saw that the girls had decided it was too cold to go on the hike. Too cold?! We hiked in January with 5 layers under our jackets! I sat down defeated and looked at my beautiful stack of warm pancakes. It was way too early in the morning to be disappointed.<br /><br />I was determined not to let this get me down, so instead of hopping back into bed I changed back into my pj’s, threw on a sweater and moved my feast outdoors under the navy blue sky and twinkling stars. It was there that I ate the entire stack of pancakes (save the few the Mr. Potato Bed woke up long enough to eat), drank my coffee and some fresh-squeezed orange juice, and watched as the sky began to lighten.<br /><br />After I was stuffed and cold I went back into the screened, mosquito-netted sanctuary I call my bedroom these days and crawled back into bed. I read a few chapters of I’m Proud of You by Tim Madigan (thanks Mom!) and finally dozed off into a pancake induced sleep.<br /><br />At 9:30 I was awoken by the hungry mewing of Mr. Potato Bed from outside the door and the voice of my neighbor. “<em>Mi-gan! Mi-gan! Ahmen!</em>” I jumped out of bed, threw the sweater back on and ran out to find my neighbor waiting there with the ever-patient donkey hauling water. As I absentmindedly went through the familiar routine of carrying the water jugs in the house and emptying the contents into the large container in my courtyard, I counted in my head: 27 days. Yes, it had been 27 days since any water had reached the houses in my section of the neighborhood. And it had taken me almost as long to finally become used to using only tiny amounts of water to do everything. [On a side note, I am now astonished at how much water we waste in the States. I can take a very nice bath with 2.5 gallons of water, not much more than most toilets use in one flush.]<br /><br />Having already eaten breakfast I headed into the salon and got to work doing any number of the menial tasks I had put off since before Anny’s visit. I balanced my financial records, marked my calendar with the past week’s events, wrote up a list of things to do in my cyber town the following day, worked on the June play list for our CD exchange, and so on. Every so often my mind would wander up into the mountains though, where my feet itched to be. The mid-day temperature was perfect, there was a steady cool breeze blowing, the sun was shining…maybe I should propose that we go for an afternoon hike?<br /><br />I debated this idea as I went about my business and by the time I gave up on the idea it was 12:30. I headed back into the kitchen, put yesterday’s lentils on the stove to warm up, and laid out the tray I used for every meal: a banana, a bowl for the lentils, some bread, and a clean glass for water. Back in the salon I settled in to enjoy my lunch and watch a movie as a reward for getting so much done in the morning. I picked “Blood Diamond”. In retrospect it strikes me as an odd choice, but these days any moving picture on a screen is engaging. Just as the plot was thickening, I got the second message of the day: If you want, we will go for a hike at 2:30. I was overjoyed!<br /><br />At 2:20 I headed down the hill to my old neighborhood, lathered in sunscreen and shaded by my yellow baseball cap. There I met the usual crew and after the usual rounds of greetings we headed up into my favorite group of mountains. I couldn’t help but notice that all the girls were in particularly jovial moods, and that my host sister looked especially beautiful and energetic. What a day this was turning out to be.<br /><br />Twenty minutes in we took a turn south on a path I had never been on. It took us up between the most majestic peaks in the area, away from houses and animals. We climbed straight up for the first hour or so, and with each step I became more and more aware of the thin air of the rising altitude, and my tightening leg muscles. Is this the hike were going to do this morning? Sheesh. Maybe I was glad I had time to eat breakfast and lunch before this! Too bad I hadn’t stretched or done any yoga…<br /><br />All the way up the first incline I was consumed with thoughts about how lucky I seem to be these days (a great turn of fate for me). When I heard I was coming to Morocco, I desperately wanted to be in the mountains where I could go hiking. And here I was in arguably the most beautiful mountain range in the country with a group of women whose outdoor habits are certainly unique by conservative, rural Berber standards. These women are no-nonsense about their hiking, and I am so grateful for that! I had also hoped to be in a place that wasn’t too hot, and while I’m acutely aware that August has a mean surprise in store for us all, I know I’m lucky to have an altitude upwards of 4500’ on my side. So many things I thought were beyond my reach had all come together in this magical little mountain village. With each step up the steep hills I counted my blessings.<br /><br />When we finally came to the top of what I had begun to think was an endless path, we were afforded a breathtaking view of the whole range on all sides. And to my surprise and delight just to the south was the tallest mountain in the region (just under 8000’), so close that I knew I could hike there and back in a day. We stopped to rest under a lovely tree, a type which I had not seen in the area before (I’m sure this had something to do with the fact that we were now up at an altitude of about 6500’). Each of us sat enjoying the weather, the view and the company, and no one found anything to complain about. Looking around at the group of us, I once again found myself in awe of my good fortune to be surrounded by what I could now call my group of dear friends.<br /><br />One hour turned into another as the sun made its lazy way across the sky, and still we climbed up and down rocky slopes. We picked tiny apples, told jokes and stories, talked about the weather, laughed over the early morning texting frenzy, even had a race or two when the terrain allowed. At a certain point we passed a group of people (three women and two boys) who were gathering herbs and feed for their animals, and I was pleased to discover that while I did not know them personally, I recognized them as relatives of a friend and they treated me as one of the girls. The indifference to my obvious differences was so comforting that I found myself thinking about it all the way down the path to our picnic spot.<br /><br />Perhaps one of the loveliest things about hiking with my girls is that at the halfway point of every trip we sit down and enjoy a delicious feast. Everyone brings something, and everyone takes some leftovers home. As I offered up my oranges I confessed to eating the treats I had made in the early morning, and they all had a good laugh at this. We dined on tea, cookies, bread, sardines, almond butter and honey, jam and butter, oranges and apples. A glass was broken and we all laughed. I accidentally threw an orange peel at my friend RabiE and we all laughed. Tleit fell backwards into a prickly bush and we all laughed. Saadia piled her veil on top of her head and rested her baseball cap neatly on top of the cloth mountain, and we all laughed. Not once was I aware that I was the outsider, that I didn’t belong.<br /><br />The trip home was much easier, and while I didn’t admit it out loud I was grateful for this. We made our way down a precarious rocky slope to the road a mile west and headed back down in the direction of town. Normally at this point in our hiking trips I would become keenly aware of a creeping sense of disappointment compounded by the fact that I was too tired to carry on any conversation. But not this Sunday. No, I was too distracted by more funny stories, more races, a brief and hilarious encounter with a group of young men, a pit stop, and the view of the huge moon rising over the dusty rolling hills to the east. <br /><br />As we finally reached the town one by one we went our separate ways. Amidst a flurry of goodbye kisses and handshakes, we told each other that we would see each other soon, <em>inshallah</em>. Finally, I headed up my hill racing to beat the second-to-last call to prayer (the time when any decent single girl should be safely back at home). As I stepped into my courtyard to face the hungry mewing of Mr. Potato Bed, I heard the mueddin’s voice crackle over the loudspeaker. “<em>Allah ackbar!</em>” Phew! Just in the nick of time.<br /><br />In the confines of my cozy little kitchen I unpacked the treasures of the day from my backpack: some freshly picked medicinal herbs to put in my coffee, a jar full of left-over almond butter and honey, some of Saadia’s home-baked cookies, and a whole liter of fresh buttermilk from little Saadia’s cow. But as I took inventory of the contents of my bag I was acutely aware of the fact that on this day I had brought back much, much more than what physically lay before me now. Nothing had been stressful, nothing had been unfamiliar, and nothing had been confusing; everything had felt so normal. So very normal. I looked at the things in my kitchen, at my house keys in my hand, thought back over the events of the day and realized: I can finally call this home.Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06332979136566626081noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468414923470745737.post-87069787274641137952008-05-01T09:27:00.000-04:002008-05-01T09:28:44.194-04:00Thank you and enjoy!I would like to thank Erin and Todd and whomever else was responsible for successfully loading the following videos....<br /><br />THANK YOU!!!Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06332979136566626081noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468414923470745737.post-53719799280372151992008-04-28T22:13:00.002-04:002008-04-28T22:28:46.609-04:00Video #1: Hiking<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxqbpfj7Kc-6rKx3O5THcMjm-AS4CyGHEp77srU0Vqa4D0Xb65Am3Zw4qYnuV4ZdUWYz2ntqaZbawwjDgFYpw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06332979136566626081noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468414923470745737.post-32206980213789405932008-04-28T21:48:00.002-04:002008-04-28T22:11:26.220-04:00Video #2 Moving<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyFfPdQ9KxS_zn0wx4Po5zTaJgkJWS7_pTYC3P-p22WD4Yyb5N2p2eQHpXjPL6dsS04JyTx_K6QPXzNXhVRkA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06332979136566626081noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468414923470745737.post-88491828911472167282008-04-28T10:20:00.024-04:002008-07-10T08:10:40.606-04:00Goin' Old SchoolHello most patient and devoted blog readers!<br /><br />As I'm sure you've figured out by now, I am not capable of uploading videos to my blog. I don't know; maybe it's me, maybe it's Morocco. Either way, I have decided to go back to the good ol' photograph, so below you will find some pictures from March and April.<br /><br />There isn't much going on these days in town. The weather has suddenly gotten much hotter so everyone's drive to get things done quickly has waned considerably. Meanwhile, I've been working hard on the house in preparation for my first visitor, Anny. (So exciting!) The work is going well, but has been badly hindered by the lack of water in my duar; today is day 10 without water. If I didn't have a kindly friend down the hill with a well and a donkey, I'd be in real trouble.<br /><br />In addition, all of us are preparing for our In-Service Training at the beginning of June. It will be the first time that we've all seen each other since swearing-in! I'm super excited about this, and I imagine that May will fly by just as every other month has, so the waiting won't seem so long.<br /><br />I hope you are all doing well and enjoying cooler weather than we are. Enjoy the pictures!<br /><br />Peace<br /><br />Megan<br /><br /><br /><strong>PHOTOS:</strong><br /><br />Ah yes. The dusty haze of Saharan summer has already descended upon us.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXzPW9sWzI/AAAAAAAAAt8/mQEByDicPvc/s1600-h/IMG_1468.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXzPW9sWzI/AAAAAAAAAt8/mQEByDicPvc/s400/IMG_1468.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194325190429662002" /></a><br /><br />Fancy me in my courtyard. On this day we went to a ceremony called "Idernan", which is a mix of Muslim and Berber traditions. It was an amazing event that I did not understand at all, but I will be happy to describe or demonstrate when I get home. Unfortunately, no picture-taking was allowed.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXyY29sWyI/AAAAAAAAAt0/7eRg5kTLGVE/s1600-h/IMG_1482.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXyY29sWyI/AAAAAAAAAt0/7eRg5kTLGVE/s400/IMG_1482.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194324254126791458" /></a><br /><br />Yes, this is the teleboutique only steps from my house.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXxj29sWxI/AAAAAAAAAts/UGsLdDhuG2A/s1600-h/IMG_1490.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXxj29sWxI/AAAAAAAAAts/UGsLdDhuG2A/s400/IMG_1490.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194323343593724690" /></a><br /><br />Sisters in full traditional dress. The jewelry is unbelievably heavy.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXwnm9sWwI/AAAAAAAAAtk/WoOPEXqN9Q8/s1600-h/IMG_1492.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXwnm9sWwI/AAAAAAAAAtk/WoOPEXqN9Q8/s400/IMG_1492.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194322308506606338" /></a><br /><br />Just hangin' out in the shade. Why am I so low?<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXvxG9sWvI/AAAAAAAAAtc/cVnSBcw8OPg/s1600-h/IMG_1494.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXvxG9sWvI/AAAAAAAAAtc/cVnSBcw8OPg/s400/IMG_1494.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194321372203735794" /></a><br /><br />Me and my host sister... and my big head.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXvJm9sWuI/AAAAAAAAAtU/_3XG3bOCijs/s1600-h/IMG_1495.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXvJm9sWuI/AAAAAAAAAtU/_3XG3bOCijs/s400/IMG_1495.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194320693598903010" /></a><br /><br />This is my friend Amina in the full garb of my town. I just love this shot with her superstar sunglasses.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXuQG9sWtI/AAAAAAAAAtM/0DyvtGrBD8Q/s1600-h/IMG_1497.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXuQG9sWtI/AAAAAAAAAtM/0DyvtGrBD8Q/s400/IMG_1497.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194319705756424914" /></a><br /><br />Mahri and I went on yet another hike at the end of March. This is the first in a series of yoga inspired shots we plan to take. I love it!<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXte29sWsI/AAAAAAAAAtE/GFjDN5tzBCk/s1600-h/IMG_1542.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXte29sWsI/AAAAAAAAAtE/GFjDN5tzBCk/s400/IMG_1542.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194318859647867586" /></a><br /><br />Here I am looking out from the same rock. This is a natural formation. Can you believe that?!<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXszm9sWrI/AAAAAAAAAs8/Tr5nfIXx60A/s1600-h/IMG_1546.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXszm9sWrI/AAAAAAAAAs8/Tr5nfIXx60A/s400/IMG_1546.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194318116618525362" /></a><br /><br />Just a lovely view of the mountains and amazing boulders<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXrrG9sWqI/AAAAAAAAAs0/837r3-l7Bvw/s1600-h/IMG_1547.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXrrG9sWqI/AAAAAAAAAs0/837r3-l7Bvw/s400/IMG_1547.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194316871078009506" /></a><br /><br />Some of the rocks were painted years ago. It gives the landscape a totally alien feel to it.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXqlW9sWpI/AAAAAAAAAss/fDLeslX8kzg/s1600-h/IMG_1549.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXqlW9sWpI/AAAAAAAAAss/fDLeslX8kzg/s400/IMG_1549.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194315672782133906" /></a><br /><br />More painted rocks...<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXoVW9sWnI/AAAAAAAAAsc/8yju4IbWW3w/s1600-h/IMG_1562.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXoVW9sWnI/AAAAAAAAAsc/8yju4IbWW3w/s400/IMG_1562.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194313198880971378" /></a><br /><br />Can you believe this? That's natural! (not the paint of course)<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXmlm9sWmI/AAAAAAAAAsU/fQAvb068Hxo/s1600-h/IMG_1567.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXmlm9sWmI/AAAAAAAAAsU/fQAvb068Hxo/s400/IMG_1567.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194311279030590050" /></a><br /><br />Me chillin' on my newly upholstered ponjs. They are very comfortable.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXkem9sWkI/AAAAAAAAAsE/HbLB3wkYQjc/s1600-h/IMG_1604.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXkem9sWkI/AAAAAAAAAsE/HbLB3wkYQjc/s400/IMG_1604.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194308959748250178" /></a><br /><br />Every Friday we go up to the "timzgit" (small, local mosque) to cook and eat delicious suksu (couscous). It's an all-day event; I usually arrive at 11:00 am and don't leave until 5:00 pm, so we have plenty time to hang out, socialize and relax. Naima and I switched clothes for a while on one particular day. I wasn't sure if she wanted my jelaba, or if they just wanted to see me in their usual garb.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXjZW9sWjI/AAAAAAAAAr8/QKLKncYSZ0w/s1600-h/IMG_1688.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXjZW9sWjI/AAAAAAAAAr8/QKLKncYSZ0w/s400/IMG_1688.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194307770042309170" /></a><br /><br />Who is that fine lady? I look like I'm about to fly away...<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXiNW9sWiI/AAAAAAAAAr0/qATE-dHLNag/s1600-h/IMG_1690.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXiNW9sWiI/AAAAAAAAAr0/qATE-dHLNag/s400/IMG_1690.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194306464372251170" /></a><br /><br />More boar and babies! Yeehaw!<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXhFW9sWhI/AAAAAAAAArs/u8zbYhszWGU/s1600-h/IMG_1709.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXhFW9sWhI/AAAAAAAAArs/u8zbYhszWGU/s400/IMG_1709.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194305227421669906" /></a><br /><br />Cactus flower<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXfr29sWgI/AAAAAAAAArk/0QUDb-7fkOc/s1600-h/IMG_1729.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXfr29sWgI/AAAAAAAAArk/0QUDb-7fkOc/s400/IMG_1729.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194303689823377922" /></a><br /><br />Just me and the kids! They had a blast trying to take pictures.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXfB29sWfI/AAAAAAAAArc/Ay6sM7SuQ5U/s1600-h/IMG_1746.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXfB29sWfI/AAAAAAAAArc/Ay6sM7SuQ5U/s400/IMG_1746.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194302968268872178" /></a><br /><br />This is a picture of the girls singing under a white sheet, while the men play the drums. I'm not entirely sure what this event was, but it was a perfect evening to enjoy some outdoor entertainment; I just wish the French lady's dog hadn't kept sittin on my fancy clothes.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXeK29sWeI/AAAAAAAAArU/nRJBML-Nfgw/s1600-h/IMG_1755.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/SBXeK29sWeI/AAAAAAAAArU/nRJBML-Nfgw/s400/IMG_1755.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194302023376067042" /></a>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06332979136566626081noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468414923470745737.post-42652823262765203882008-04-20T10:29:00.003-04:002008-04-20T12:30:50.743-04:00But Seriously, The VideosHello Family and Friends!<br /><br />Well, I think I can finally say with certainty that the videos loaded. I had no idea it didn't work last time until a few days ago; I've been away from Internet for almost two weeks because of a number of unexpected schedule changes.<br /><br />Things have been really busy here. I have been working on the house morning and night, and in between going to tutoring, working at the Nedi and trying to keep up with exercise.<br /><br />I'm hoping to post some narrative next week, but in the mean time I do hope you enjoy the videos. They're about a month old, and the quality is fairly poor (ended up having to downsize them to get them to load), but either way they'll be fun.<br /><br />I hope you are all doing well and I hope to be in touch with you all soon!<br /><br />Peace,<br /><br />Megan<br /><br /><br />Part 1 - Hiking<br /><br /><OBJECT class=BLOG_video_class id=BLOG_video-5cfb3b909fdcd296 height=266 width=320 contentId="5cfb3b909fdcd296"></OBJECT><br /><br />Part 2 - Moving<br /><br /><OBJECT class=BLOG_video_class id=BLOG_video-ee3573d7499a2b7a height=266 width=320 contentId="ee3573d7499a2b7a"></OBJECT>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06332979136566626081noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468414923470745737.post-39585231935171933372008-04-07T09:37:00.003-04:002008-04-07T12:18:55.790-04:00Moving Picture HeavenHello dedicated readers!<br /><br />As most of you know I have been working for weeks and weeks to upload some videos I've been working on. Well, I have finally found success! Yippeee!<br /><br />Below you will see two videos that show some of the things I've been up to recently. My plan is to post these every once in a while to keep you all up to date on what I'm really doing. As much as I like writing and posting pictures, I enjoy much more making these little movies for everyone to enjoy.<br /><br />Things are coming along as quickly and as slowly as ever her in Morocco. The temperature is rising, a fellow PCV already spotted the first scorpion, I've been doing lots of work on my new place, and I continue to miss all of you more and more. The most exciting thing that is happening these days is that our training group is about six weeks away from IST (In-Service Training), which will be great because I will reunite with many friends I haven't seen since swearing-in.<br /><br />Well, now that I've given you the bried update, pop some popcorn, put your feet up, make sure your computer is not muted, and please enjoy the two latest items to come out of Megaton Productions...<br /><br />Peace,<br /><br />Megan<br /><br /><br /><OBJECT class=BLOG_video_class id=BLOG_video-UPLOADING height=266 width=320 contentId="UPLOADING"></OBJECT><OBJECT class=BLOG_video_class id=BLOG_video-UPLOADING height=266 width=320 contentId="UPLOADING"></OBJECT>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06332979136566626081noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468414923470745737.post-90891696552135772632008-03-24T10:21:00.024-04:002008-07-10T08:08:43.667-04:00The Last Half...FirstHappy Spring! <br /><br />So as many of you know I've been struggling for three weeks now to post anything to my blog. I was finally (mostly) successful today; I was able to post the second half of the pictures I had intended to post. So in backwards fashion, I will post the first half next week.<br /><br />Also, I was trying to post two videos I had made for your viewing pleasure; also something I will have to post next week.<br /><br />So until then, here is the second half of the pictures I have to share from the last month in Morocco.<br /><br />I hope you are all doing well!<br /><br />Peace,<br /><br />Megan<br /><br /><strong><br />HIKING DAY (PART DEUX):</strong><br /><br />A stop sign in Arabic that's in my town. I don't know why someone wrote "fat" on it...<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-fU6Rq1c3I/AAAAAAAAAq0/WE2IjXUhWcE/s1600-h/18+-+Stop+in+Arabic.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-fU6Rq1c3I/AAAAAAAAAq0/WE2IjXUhWcE/s400/18+-+Stop+in+Arabic.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181343993953612658" /></a><br /><br />At the end of the day as we packed up to leave, the girls began to sing and dance. It was amazing! This is yet another item that was on the video I wanted to post.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-fS9Bq1c2I/AAAAAAAAAqs/FxPWgjp1RDM/s1600-h/19+-+Girls+Singing+after+Lunch.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-fS9Bq1c2I/AAAAAAAAAqs/FxPWgjp1RDM/s400/19+-+Girls+Singing+after+Lunch.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181341842174997346" /></a><br /><br /><br /><strong>MOVING DAY:</strong><br /><br />This is the room I said goodbye to on March 16. It was a bittersweet day, but it went very smoothly considering all the hurdles I had to jump to make it happen at all.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-fSJxq1c1I/AAAAAAAAAqk/tw1RnOBAoS4/s1600-h/22+-+Goodbye+Room+1.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-fSJxq1c1I/AAAAAAAAAqk/tw1RnOBAoS4/s400/22+-+Goodbye+Room+1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181340961706701650" /></a><br /><br /><br />Another view of the room I left in my host family's house.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-fQDRq1c0I/AAAAAAAAAqc/QZjq36CfnAQ/s1600-h/23+-+Goodbye+Room+2.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-fQDRq1c0I/AAAAAAAAAqc/QZjq36CfnAQ/s400/23+-+Goodbye+Room+2.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181338651014296386" /></a><br /><br /><br />A group of the girls came to help move my things across town on moving day. We were very lucky that about 50 yards from the house a tractor crossed our paths and ended up hauling all my things the mile or so to the new place.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-fMqxq1cyI/AAAAAAAAAqM/QBIq_wTuuz0/s1600-h/24+-+Girls+Moving+My+Stuff.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-fMqxq1cyI/AAAAAAAAAqM/QBIq_wTuuz0/s400/24+-+Girls+Moving+My+Stuff.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181334931572618018" /></a><br /><br /><br />This will soon be my new cat (a.k.a. scorpion killer... I'm hoping)! Soooo cute! I'm thinking of naming it either Jordan or Patsy; any other suggestions?<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-fH-hq1cwI/AAAAAAAAAp8/HLCmvYIGyx4/s1600-h/26+-+My+Baby+Cat.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-fH-hq1cwI/AAAAAAAAAp8/HLCmvYIGyx4/s400/26+-+My+Baby+Cat.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181329773316895490" /></a><br /><br /><br /><strong>THE NEW HOUSE:</strong><br /><br />So these are some pictures of my new house! (more to come)<br /><br />This is the courtyard around which all the rooms of the house are located. I call this picture "Excavation"; this is the dirt I swept out of the courtyard. I found a marble and a 10 Ryal piece (which equals something akin to a penny) underneath. Sweeeeet!<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-fE-hq1cvI/AAAAAAAAAp0/g3Sc3_69P6o/s1600-h/27+-+Excavating+the+Courtyard.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-fE-hq1cvI/AAAAAAAAAp0/g3Sc3_69P6o/s400/27+-+Excavating+the+Courtyard.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181326474782012146" /></a><br /><br /><br />This is the view of the courtyard as you enter the house. To the left the bedroom, to the right the kitchen and behind that the storage room, and against the back wall the entrance to the salon. All the doors are metal - very typical Moroccan door. I think they're lovely; but they sure are heavy to manage sometimes!<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-fEIBq1cuI/AAAAAAAAAps/WxFSqneMrpY/s1600-h/28+-+Other+View+of+Courtyard.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-fEIBq1cuI/AAAAAAAAAps/WxFSqneMrpY/s400/28+-+Other+View+of+Courtyard.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181325538479141602" /></a><br /><br /><br />Because I don't have a constant supply of water, I have to store it in the containers you see in this picture. Since I took this I actually purchased a much bigger container with a faucet; I can't tell you how exciting that purchase was!<br /><br />You'll also notice in the corner and underneath the kettle two butane tanks. This is the fuel most Moroccan (at least rural) families use to cook, and also to heat water for tea, etc. On the video I had a fantastic demonstration.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-fB_Rq1ctI/AAAAAAAAApk/y50U0efjUnw/s1600-h/30+-+Water+Storage+%26+Butane.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-fB_Rq1ctI/AAAAAAAAApk/y50U0efjUnw/s400/30+-+Water+Storage+%26+Butane.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181323189132030674" /></a><br /><br /><br />My broom broke halfway through the "excavation" of the courtyard.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-fBhBq1csI/AAAAAAAAApc/uAblH0s-es4/s1600-h/31+-+Broken+Broom.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-fBhBq1csI/AAAAAAAAApc/uAblH0s-es4/s400/31+-+Broken+Broom.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181322669440987842" /></a><br /><br /><br />This is the salon. In the picture you can see the ponjs I bought, which is the bench seating that all Moroccan households have. It may fascinate some of you to know that the rooms in houses are actually measured so that these benches fit perfectly. I bought some lovely blue and gold fabric to cover them, and I'm hoping Aunt Patsy will fly over at the end of the month to help me sew it on.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-fA_xq1crI/AAAAAAAAApU/OD1wTzfF-Vg/s1600-h/32+-+The+Salon.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-fA_xq1crI/AAAAAAAAApU/OD1wTzfF-Vg/s400/32+-+The+Salon.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181322098210337458" /></a><br /><br /><br />This is my bedroom and a mattress that my very sweet neighbor/landlady donated to me. I do have my own bed, but I thought it was so nice of her to even think of it. Everyone has been so helpful with this house!<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-fAWxq1cqI/AAAAAAAAApM/j7GmUL6ZGxY/s1600-h/33+-+The+Bedroom.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-fAWxq1cqI/AAAAAAAAApM/j7GmUL6ZGxY/s400/33+-+The+Bedroom.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181321393835700898" /></a><br /><br /><br />That's my second front door, and the outside of the bathroom/hamam on the right. The way a hamam works is that you light a fire (with your trash) on the outside and it heats a water container on the inside. It makes the bathroom (bit l'ma) all steamy like a sauna, and that's how you bathe. I can't wait to use it next winter when it's super cold! Perhaps I will spend the whole winter in there.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-e-ixq1cpI/AAAAAAAAApE/t3hkVQi41tw/s1600-h/34+-+Hamam+%26+Front+Door.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-e-ixq1cpI/AAAAAAAAApE/t3hkVQi41tw/s400/34+-+Hamam+%26+Front+Door.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181319400970875538" /></a><br /><br /><br />Against that side wall of the garden is a giant pile of cinderblock (sp?) that has come in handy for seating, as well as (jackpot!) a huge pile of tiles. I will be tiling a walkway, and perhaps the courtyard. It doesn't usually rain, but when it does the house turns into a mud pit.<br /><br />In the lower right part of this photo there is little faucet sticking out from the wall; that is where I get all of my water. It's on every day from 10 am to 10:30 am. Or is that every other day? Or wait, is that every other day, except on Tuesdays it comes on at 3 pm? I'm hoping some day I figure out the very complicated water schedule...<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-e9ohq1coI/AAAAAAAAAo8/R_xBRQtBA08/s1600-h/35+-+Rubini+in+Garden.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-e9ohq1coI/AAAAAAAAAo8/R_xBRQtBA08/s400/35+-+Rubini+in+Garden.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181318400243495554" /></a><br /><br /><br /><strong>AT WORK:</strong><br /><br />So the women that I'm working with make beautiful shoes that are very particular to the region (most of my fellow PCVs had never seen them when I wore them to swearing-in). This is what the leather looks like after it is embroidered and before it is mounted on to the sole of the shoe. Right now the girls are simply embroidering for other shoe makers, but they have all the equipment and know-how to do the whole thing themselves. We are working now on establishing a co-operative so that they can officially do so. Wish us luck!<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-e86Rq1cnI/AAAAAAAAAo0/MhDDnhQiTTA/s1600-h/36+-+Shoe+Leathers.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-e86Rq1cnI/AAAAAAAAAo0/MhDDnhQiTTA/s400/36+-+Shoe+Leathers.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181317605674545778" /></a><br /><br /><br />This is a detail of the embroidery work that my girls (and many women of this region) are well known for. My "western" sense of color was at first challenged by these combinations, but I really think it's so lovely how much it works as a finished product.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-e79Rq1cmI/AAAAAAAAAos/iW2bW4bJep4/s1600-h/37+-+Shoe+Embroidery+Detail.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-e79Rq1cmI/AAAAAAAAAos/iW2bW4bJep4/s400/37+-+Shoe+Embroidery+Detail.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181316557702525538" /></a><br /><br /><br />...I think these are the shoes they're making for Paul and Katie. [I really crack myself up]<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-e7Dxq1clI/AAAAAAAAAok/E7rEyU4N5h0/s1600-h/38+-+Shoes+for+Paul+%26+Katie.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-e7Dxq1clI/AAAAAAAAAok/E7rEyU4N5h0/s400/38+-+Shoes+for+Paul+%26+Katie.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181315569860047442" /></a><br /><br /><br />Per Erin's request (and because it really was such a beautiful day), here is the view from my courtyard on Easter morning.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-e5Wxq1ckI/AAAAAAAAAoc/chyqaPh9ImM/s1600-h/38+-+View+from+Courtyard+on+Easter+Day.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R-e5Wxq1ckI/AAAAAAAAAoc/chyqaPh9ImM/s400/38+-+View+from+Courtyard+on+Easter+Day.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181313697254306370" /></aMeganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06332979136566626081noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468414923470745737.post-28281175712890180582008-03-17T12:08:00.004-04:002008-03-17T12:17:55.137-04:00After 7 Long Months......I am finally on my own! Yes, it's true, I found a house and last night spent the first night blissfully alone in it. Pieces of the roof fall at random intervals, there is dirt everywhere, ants are taking over my baggage (my cousin Margot knows something about this as an RPCV), I only have water a few hours a day... and I love it.<br /><br />I will try to post pictures next week, but for the last two I have been unable to post any pictures on my blog. So perhaps next week I will finally be successful and then you will all have tons of pictures (and I'm hoping a video or two) to view.<br /><br />Thank you all so much for all your words of encouragement, and prayers, and good vibes, etc. I will be working hard to fix up my little "cottage", and you are all welcome to come and stay... that is if you can find my town. LOL.<br /><br />Meanwhile, be sure to check out my cousin Erin's blog (see right side of this page); she is also a PCV and just finished her first marathon in Tanzania!<br /><br />Peace,<br /><br />MeganMeganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06332979136566626081noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468414923470745737.post-50160852270944837232008-02-25T09:37:00.022-05:002008-02-25T11:30:30.716-05:00Picture Book IIOnce again I haven't left myself enough time to write any interesting narrative, but I've posted pictures and those are always exciting. These past two weeks have been a blur, and I can't wait until I have a moment to write a decent entry with all the details. The good news is: I have a house, I have a tutor, I have a bike, I got pictures of the boar, and I finally have a clear idea of the work that I will be doing. Oh! And I'm taking my first vacation in less than a week. Just as things were looking truly bleak, everything changed for the better (a lesson learned I won't soon forget).<br /><br />I hope you are all well and enjoying beautiful weather like I am. Enjoy the photos!<br /><br />Peace,<br /><br />Megan<br /><br /><strong>PHOTOS</strong><br /><br />A few entries back I wrote about the puppy we had for about a 1/2 hour. This is the puppy. Really, one of the cutest animals I've ever seen. My friend is laughing, not crying, by the way.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8LoNvh0ndI/AAAAAAAAAmw/WmgnEAKTAJ0/s1600-h/01+-+The+Puppy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8LoNvh0ndI/AAAAAAAAAmw/WmgnEAKTAJ0/s400/01+-+The+Puppy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170950644969020882" /></a><br /><br />Read it and weep...with laughter. This is officially the most funny use of the English language I have ever seen. Brooke found it in a shop in my cyber town.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8Lnn_h0ncI/AAAAAAAAAmo/jcFJki433y0/s1600-h/02+-+Funny+Box.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8Lnn_h0ncI/AAAAAAAAAmo/jcFJki433y0/s400/02+-+Funny+Box.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170949996428959170" /></a><br /><br />Last week Mahri, Brooke and I went for yet another great hike. The rock formations around here are so amazing. This is Mahri in a cool little cave-like formation we happened upon. I love this shot.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8LlW_h0nbI/AAAAAAAAAmg/jIFePwRGmXo/s1600-h/03+-+Mahri+in+Cave.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8LlW_h0nbI/AAAAAAAAAmg/jIFePwRGmXo/s400/03+-+Mahri+in+Cave.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170947505347927474" /></a><br /><br />There are balancing rocks everywhere. And they are enormous (it's very difficult to show scale in these pictures). Does anyone know how in the world this happens? I would love to know...<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8LkUPh0naI/AAAAAAAAAmY/ZWbtsDC52Bc/s1600-h/04+-+Balancing+Rocks+with+City+in+Bckgrnd.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8LkUPh0naI/AAAAAAAAAmY/ZWbtsDC52Bc/s400/04+-+Balancing+Rocks+with+City+in+Bckgrnd.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170946358591659426" /></a><br /><br />Yet another amazing balanced rock. Most of these are atleast 4 or 5 times taller than I am, just to give you an idea of the size.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8Lizvh0nZI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/e3gVRa51uUE/s1600-h/05+-+Balancing+Rocks+with+Mtn+in+Backgrnd.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8Lizvh0nZI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/e3gVRa51uUE/s400/05+-+Balancing+Rocks+with+Mtn+in+Backgrnd.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170944700734283154" /></a><br /><br />That's Mahri looking out over the view. In her backpack is the delicious lunch she packed. Mmmmmm.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8LiB_h0nYI/AAAAAAAAAmI/D5kds1xQcb8/s1600-h/06+-+Mahri+Sitting.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8LiB_h0nYI/AAAAAAAAAmI/D5kds1xQcb8/s400/06+-+Mahri+Sitting.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170943846035791234" /></a><br /><br />That's Brooke. Isn't the view amazing?<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8LhMfh0nXI/AAAAAAAAAmA/aV8rQ5-FJMc/s1600-h/07+-+Brooke+Standing.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8LhMfh0nXI/AAAAAAAAAmA/aV8rQ5-FJMc/s400/07+-+Brooke+Standing.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170942926912789874" /></a><br /><br />Cactus fruit! Known as taqnrit (tak-a-nair-eet) here. I looooove to eat these. They are the consistency of a kiwi fruit, and have giant seeds that are perfect for seed spitting contests. I love them!!<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8Lfgfh0nWI/AAAAAAAAAl4/vcfMzhLhQe0/s1600-h/08+-+Cactus+Fruit+Front+View.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8Lfgfh0nWI/AAAAAAAAAl4/vcfMzhLhQe0/s400/08+-+Cactus+Fruit+Front+View.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170941071486917986" /></a><br /><br />Yet another view of the delicious treats.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8LeP_h0nVI/AAAAAAAAAlw/529tqUbq8Aw/s1600-h/09+-+Cactus+Fruit+Top+View.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8LeP_h0nVI/AAAAAAAAAlw/529tqUbq8Aw/s400/09+-+Cactus+Fruit+Top+View.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170939688507448658" /></a><br /><br />First you cut off each end...<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8LdKvh0nUI/AAAAAAAAAlo/wNI9tVIH8lY/s1600-h/10+-+Cut+off+top.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8LdKvh0nUI/AAAAAAAAAlo/wNI9tVIH8lY/s400/10+-+Cut+off+top.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170938498801507650" /></a><br /><br />Then you peel back the skin...<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8LcDvh0nTI/AAAAAAAAAlg/UrXX53uXji4/s1600-h/11+-+Peel+off+skin.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8LcDvh0nTI/AAAAAAAAAlg/UrXX53uXji4/s400/11+-+Peel+off+skin.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170937279030795570" /></a><br /><br />Then you cut it in half and stare at the seeds for a while (at least that's what I do)...<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8LbL_h0nSI/AAAAAAAAAlY/M5vGoUEAvZM/s1600-h/12+-+Fruit+has+large+seeds.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8LbL_h0nSI/AAAAAAAAAlY/M5vGoUEAvZM/s400/12+-+Fruit+has+large+seeds.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170936321253088546" /></a><br /><br />...And then you take a goofy picture of yourself eating the fruit.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8LZmvh0nRI/AAAAAAAAAlQ/ZQFB7cSTUBA/s1600-h/13+-+Me+Eating+Cactus+Fruit.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8LZmvh0nRI/AAAAAAAAAlQ/ZQFB7cSTUBA/s400/13+-+Me+Eating+Cactus+Fruit.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170934581791333650" /></a><br /><br />That's me on the roof after my snack. Life is rough out here.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8LYqvh0nQI/AAAAAAAAAlI/-mAroTNKfbU/s1600-h/14+-+Me+on+Roof+with+Mtns+in+Backgrnd.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8LYqvh0nQI/AAAAAAAAAlI/-mAroTNKfbU/s400/14+-+Me+on+Roof+with+Mtns+in+Backgrnd.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170933550999182594" /></a><br /><br />FINALLY!!!! This is a mother boar and her babies. I've been waiting for this shot for months!<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8LXvfh0nPI/AAAAAAAAAlA/rIEFVcQspt0/s1600-h/15+-+Mom+Haloof+with+Babies.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8LXvfh0nPI/AAAAAAAAAlA/rIEFVcQspt0/s400/15+-+Mom+Haloof+with+Babies.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170932533091933426" /></a><br /><br />This is a field full of baby boars (called "haloof"). That morning there were 29 babies and 10 huge adults. They hung around for about an hour.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8LXCvh0nOI/AAAAAAAAAk4/6G0eosfjAtU/s1600-h/16+-+Field+of+Baby+Haloof.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8LXCvh0nOI/AAAAAAAAAk4/6G0eosfjAtU/s400/16+-+Field+of+Baby+Haloof.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170931764292787426" /></a><br /><br />Here they are heading back into the mountains. The boar to the right was enormous. I'm not a good judge of size or weight from such a distance, but suffice to say he'd do a lot of damage if I ever got anywhere close to him.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8LWNvh0nNI/AAAAAAAAAkw/1kBsPYyi9RI/s1600-h/17+-+Haloof+From+Distance.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R8LWNvh0nNI/AAAAAAAAAkw/1kBsPYyi9RI/s400/17+-+Haloof+From+Distance.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170930853759720658" /></a><br /><strong></strong>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06332979136566626081noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468414923470745737.post-66424992191663837192008-02-12T10:57:00.000-05:002008-02-12T11:52:09.136-05:00That's when I noticed...Last Tuesday I woke up to the howl of a windstorm burning its fearless path over the mountains towards our little town. It’s the sort of wind that launches pieces of trash hundreds of feet up in the air so that you mistake them for birds tumbling about in the gale. It’s the sort of wind that propels me up to the open expanse of the roof, coaxes my eyes closed, and convinces me that it’s actually the ocean waves of the Carolina’s. It’s the sort of merciless wind that permeates your pores and reeks of inescapable change. Yeah, it all started on Wednesday...<br /><br />It's safe to say that every day that I've been in Morocco has felt like a test, but this last week has been the hardest hands down. Last Tuesday I woke up consumed with the issue of housing, and exhausted from lack of sleep (the wind had banged on the windows and doors all night). I had not been able to find a house by the February 1st deadline, and things were looking truly bleak. I kept looking disdainfully at my suitcases while I lay in my sleeping bag, as if it was the fault of the bags that I'd had to live out of them for almost six months and there was no end in sight. Meanwhile, the wind had brought an unwelcome bout of colder weather. Just as the almond blossoms were coming into full bloom, I found myself wearing a winter hat and gloves to bed again. The patience I had owned so willingly for so long now was slipping quickly and I couldn't even muster the desire to retrieve it.<br /><br />So last week when three people in a row tried overcharging me for items I had previously paid less than half for, I really hit my limit. Unfortunately, the third person was my postman, and while I know he was in the wrong to charge me more than the sum of the stamps in front of me, I would have been well advised to back down for the sake of maintaining an ounce of social decency. In the end I "won" the argument, but I walked out of the post office feeling terrible about fighting over what amounted to 5 cents (you'll be happy to know that I didn't do that math until I was back at home). The wind punished me with tiny bits of dirt to the eyes all the way home.<br /><br />The following day I found myself upset from the moment I rolled out of "bed". Perhaps it was the 20 minutes of continuous gunfire that rudely yanked me from my peaceful slumber (7:00 am is a great time of day to go boar hunting). Or, perhaps it was that I had left messages that hadn't been returned, hadn't showered in an embarrassing number of days, hadn't slept a full night in recent memory, and couldn't relax long enough to do my morning meditation. I went through the day literally forcing a smile on to my face and constantly telling myself that things would get better; they had to. The wind continued to bear down on us all, and I started to think it was not ever going away.<br /><br />When we returned from the Nedi I found my mood much more tolerable, and I busied myself with making tea and a snack. I also received a call from Anny while I was preparing in the kitchen, and I was struck with how badly I simply needed to talk and be understood. But there was a knock at the door and some mild commotion, so I hung up and went to investigate. Before I could even inquire as to what all the fuss was about a friend from the Nedi standing in the doorway produced the cutest puppy I've ever seen (except for Lola, or course). It was for us! I was overjoyed; in fact I'm sure I clapped my hands, jumped up and down and squealed a number of times. I spent the next 20 minutes or so peeking in on the sleeping puppy, and planning out everything that was going to happen from here on out. Puppy was going to sleep in my room, I was going to make puppy some great food, I was going to teach puppy all sorts of tricks, we were definitely going to run through some fields together, and some day when I came back to visit Morocco he would run to me, tail wagging in recognition of his long lost friend Megan. The puppy montage in my mind was rudely interrupted by yet another knock at the door. Before I even knew what was happening, the puppy was being "repossessed" by the younger sibling of my friend. The puppy was crying on the way out the door. The wind was moaning through the cracks in the windows.<br /><br />Then souk day comes along and I'm doing my best to recover from all that had happened recently and forget about my housing woes for at least one morning. We head down the hill bright and early to buy our veggies and fruits for the week, but as we approach the souk I immediately notice that something is different. I'm pondering this unexplained difference as we turn the corner to head towards our favorite produce guy. My feet stop before I even register why. There is no produce. None in sight. Not our guy's stall, or any other for that matter. People are standing around looking none too happy, and I have a feeling that we ought not stick around longer than we have to. Maybe it's the wind, I think to myself. But after stopping to talk to a few equally bewildered friends, we find out that there had been some disagreement between the local authorities and the stall owners over the cost of rent, and it didn't look to be resolved any time soon. No house, no food, no puppy, no patience... what's next?<br /><br />Waves of realization of the magnitude of the food situation keep washing over me as I pick up a package from the post office (he's still angry at me) and head back home. When we get there I immediately head to my room and open the package that had a return address from Peace Corps. I tore off the brown packaging and found to my extreme delight and surprise a Snickers box. For a moment my heart (and taste buds) jumped. No! It couldn't be... could it? Could it possibly be a box full of Snickers? Why would PC send me a box of Snickers? As I opened the box I held out an amazing amount of irrational hope that there was actually chocolate inside; of course there wasn't.<br /><br />Sunday comes along and I decide to take a day to myself. As the wind continues it's assault on the town, I curl up under a blanket and read a book for the better part of the day. Then I decide it's a perfect nap day and I do that too. When I wake up I feel slightly refreshed and start to prepare for my Monday cyber day. If nothing else, I knew I would be with fellow PCV's tomorrow and they would help me figure out a solution. With that in mind I watch of bit of "Tom & Jerry" with my host sister and call it a night early.<br /><br />At 2 am I'm rudely awakened by pounding on the roof. No need to investigate, I know it's the wooden beam that supports the clothesline that's come undone. The wind is now steady at a good 40 mph and the gusts are rattling the walls of our cinderblock home; not good. I doze on and off until my alarm sounds at 5:45 to get me out of bed for my trip to my cyber town. The wind has not let up and I decide it's a bad idea to take a trip over a mountain in at bus in this weather. Besides, I don't want to get out of bed; my bags are reminding me again of all the things I want to forget.<br /><br />The day goes on as any other day. We eat breakfast and marvel about the wind, we do housework and marvel about the wind, we eat lunch and marvel about the wind, we head on over to the Nedi and marvel about the wind. And just as I'm settling in work on some crocheting, a person appears through the door of the Nedi and says they have a house to show me. I blink a couple of times and stare blankly back at him. He repeats himself slowly and I jump out of my chair. "Let's go!" I shout, and we're off.<br /><br />We head towards a huge expanse of a house and I'm looking for the shack that must be what he has in mind. But we head through the garden and courtyard of the mansion, locking and unlocking gates and doors, and before I know it I'm standing in a huge, new room with a fireplace, a sink and a hot water heater. "How much can you pay for it?" he asks as I try to comprehend what's just happened. And that's when I noticed that the wind had stopped.Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06332979136566626081noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468414923470745737.post-14464089252410995582008-02-04T10:33:00.001-05:002008-07-10T08:05:23.242-04:00Picture BookHello! I'm sorry that I ran out of time for any lengthy narrative this week, but I hope you'll at the very least enjoy the pictures I uploaded.<br /><br />Peace,<br /><br />Megan<br /><br /><strong>PHOTOS:</strong><br /><br />A week ago Mahri, Brooke and I went on a really nice hike outside of our cyber town. That's Mahri looking out over the landscape to give you an idea of scale.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6c6oTW_eyI/AAAAAAAAAkA/VH0U9BFnyV0/s1600-h/01+-+Mahri+Hike+View.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6c6oTW_eyI/AAAAAAAAAkA/VH0U9BFnyV0/s320/01+-+Mahri+Hike+View.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163159961869450018" /></a><br /><br />Seriously. Seriously. No words...<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6c43jW_ewI/AAAAAAAAAjw/-imdN9AILFE/s1600-h/03+-+Celine+Dion.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6c43jW_ewI/AAAAAAAAAjw/-imdN9AILFE/s320/03+-+Celine+Dion.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163158024839199490" /></a><br /><br /><br />Those are the three gazelle (gazelles?) we saw on our hike. It was so cool to see something other than cats, dogs and wild boar.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6c4ODW_evI/AAAAAAAAAjo/tVVj11TR3hs/s1600-h/04+-+Gazelles.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6c4ODW_evI/AAAAAAAAAjo/tVVj11TR3hs/s320/04+-+Gazelles.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163157311874628338" /></a><br /><br />Full moon rising over cyber town...<br /> <br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6c4BDW_euI/AAAAAAAAAjg/uwf-jyJmNG8/s1600-h/05+-+Full+Moon+Rising.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6c4BDW_euI/AAAAAAAAAjg/uwf-jyJmNG8/s320/05+-+Full+Moon+Rising.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163157088536328930" /></a><br /><br />This is my friend making bignes (hope I spelled that right, those yummy things they eat with powdered sugar for breakfast in New Orleans...). We got out the Christmas cookie cutters Erin sent and made the most lovely pastries my town has ever seen!<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6c3izW_etI/AAAAAAAAAjY/HL-UpmlsDZs/s1600-h/06+-+Soukaina+Baking.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6c3izW_etI/AAAAAAAAAjY/HL-UpmlsDZs/s320/06+-+Soukaina+Baking.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163156568845286098" /></a><br /><br /><br />We got the biggest kick out of the puffy little men...<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6c24zW_esI/AAAAAAAAAjQ/GJLNOyQq3t8/s1600-h/07+-+Xmas+Bignes.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6c24zW_esI/AAAAAAAAAjQ/GJLNOyQq3t8/s320/07+-+Xmas+Bignes.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163155847290780354" /></a><br /> <br /><br />On the most recent Sunday hike we walked about 45 minutes east to this big butte. That's pronounced "b-yout"... still really funny to write...<br /> <br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6c2RDW_erI/AAAAAAAAAjI/s_IMf7odXc0/s1600-h/08+-+Big+Butte.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6c2RDW_erI/AAAAAAAAAjI/s_IMf7odXc0/s320/08+-+Big+Butte.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163155164390980274" /></a><br /><br />This is the view back towards our town from the top of the butte.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6c1gTW_eqI/AAAAAAAAAjA/xc3ovtv1wp8/s1600-h/09+-+View+From+Butte.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6c1gTW_eqI/AAAAAAAAAjA/xc3ovtv1wp8/s320/09+-+View+From+Butte.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163154326872357538" /></a><br /><br />That's my host Saadia and I on top of the butte.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6c0yjW_epI/AAAAAAAAAi4/Y9lp_0dXpoU/s1600-h/10+-+Saadia+%26+I.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6c0yjW_epI/AAAAAAAAAi4/Y9lp_0dXpoU/s320/10+-+Saadia+%26+I.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163153540893342354" /></a><br /><br />This is most of the group of girls that I work with; just missing two. We had great fun on this hike. We were gone from 7:30 am to 5:30 pm.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6c0FDW_eoI/AAAAAAAAAiw/R9JUsg3VYfg/s1600-h/11+-+All+the+Girls.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6c0FDW_eoI/AAAAAAAAAiw/R9JUsg3VYfg/s320/11+-+All+the+Girls.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163152759209294466" /></a><br /><br />Here we are descending the hill and heading into the sunset...<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6czAjW_emI/AAAAAAAAAig/68vEL1YC7Wg/s1600-h/13+-+Hike+back+Home.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6czAjW_emI/AAAAAAAAAig/68vEL1YC7Wg/s320/13+-+Hike+back+Home.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163151582388255330" /></a><br /><br />This is my friend Amina and her donkey. I love this picture.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6cyaDW_elI/AAAAAAAAAiY/CLttCkkRMdY/s1600-h/14+-+Amina+on+Donkey.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6cyaDW_elI/AAAAAAAAAiY/CLttCkkRMdY/s320/14+-+Amina+on+Donkey.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163150920963291730" /></a><br /><br />Okay, I've tried desperately to get a picture of the boar. In fact, it's become something of a joke in my town. I get up at the break of down, and then sit out until dark waiting for the things to appear. They usually do when I don't have my camera. I got these pictures on the way to the bus las week.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6cxzzW_ekI/AAAAAAAAAiQ/6BNLKX__2V4/s1600-h/15+-+Lochness+Monster.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6cxzzW_ekI/AAAAAAAAAiQ/6BNLKX__2V4/s320/15+-+Lochness+Monster.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163150263833295426" /></a><br /><br />Another picture of the boar. You might have to view the picture bigger in order to see them.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6cxpzW_ejI/AAAAAAAAAiI/H21V-R7PQ40/s1600-h/16+-+Wild+Boar.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6cxpzW_ejI/AAAAAAAAAiI/H21V-R7PQ40/s320/16+-+Wild+Boar.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163150092034603570" /></a><br /><br />I took this from the roof on one of the mornings that I waited to get a good picture of them.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6cxhTW_eiI/AAAAAAAAAiA/dk6mfm4Vf3U/s1600-h/17+-+Cloudy+Morning+View.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6cxhTW_eiI/AAAAAAAAAiA/dk6mfm4Vf3U/s320/17+-+Cloudy+Morning+View.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163149946005715490" /></a><br /><br />Wild boar are called "haloof" in Tashelheit. Here I'm on the roof wondering if I've completely lost it.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6cxJzW_ehI/AAAAAAAAAh4/ueESTFL8fiY/s1600-h/18+-+No+Haloof.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6cxJzW_ehI/AAAAAAAAAh4/ueESTFL8fiY/s320/18+-+No+Haloof.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163149542278789650" /></a><br /><br />I've been making the girls some posters for the Nedi as we've been working on English.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6cw5DW_egI/AAAAAAAAAhw/7tdZO4UueU8/s1600-h/19+-+Colors+Chart.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6cw5DW_egI/AAAAAAAAAhw/7tdZO4UueU8/s320/19+-+Colors+Chart.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163149254515980802" /></a><br /><br />Here's another I just finished with the tools that we use. I'm sure I'm missing some, and I'm sure they will tell me when I hang it up tomorrow...<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6cwgTW_efI/AAAAAAAAAho/CTjwani7c3Q/s1600-h/20+-+Tools+Chart.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R6cwgTW_efI/AAAAAAAAAho/CTjwani7c3Q/s320/20+-+Tools+Chart.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163148829314218482" /></a>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06332979136566626081noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468414923470745737.post-33440654680042787132008-01-21T11:13:00.002-05:002008-07-10T08:01:13.621-04:00This Week's Update (I think I've run out of blog titles)I never know how to start out my blog entries. How do I make sense of all the jumbled mess that is my life these days, and then present it in such a way that is decipherable and enjoyable? I guess I’ll just put all down in the order that it comes out of my brain and hope that you kind readers will have pity on this lonely blogger…<br /><br />A week or so ago I went to Agadir to enjoy a relaxing weekend on the beach with my friend Anny. Between the two of us we have exchanged hundreds of text messages since November, so one of the highlights of the short trip was being able to talk to her face-to-face. The first day we arrived (after I took a shower…a real shower!) we went shopping at Marjane (the Target of Morocco), which was wild and wonderful. I felt like dancing up and down the aisles; I had no idea how much I really missed in the way of available goods until I saw it all before my eyes. We spent the following day on the beach talking and people watching, and enjoying our Marjane purchases of brie, a baguette and Nutella. It was a short weekend, but just what we both needed. Oh! And before I left I took the picture below of McDonalds (you can see Pizza Hut in the background). Keegan, I said I would take it if I could, so here you go!<br /><br />Aside from my trip to Agadir, life has actually been relatively quiet. Since the holidays wound down we started to get back into a routine that I suspect will take us clear through to summer. I have recently learned to crochet, thanks to the guidance of my host and a book that my dear mother sent. In fact, I recently finished the hat below, which is a vast improvement on the last hat I made (remember the yellow and red cone shaped blob anyone?). I have found that the beauty of making your own hat is that you can adjust it to properly fit the size for your head, which in my case is gigantic. And for those of you who suffer from GBH (that’s Genetic Big Head) like I do, you know how miserable it is to have to squeeze your huge brain into a tiny hat too keep warm, and then come out with a permanent imprint of it on your forehead. No more! I crocheted myself a lovely, huge hat that leaves no mark and keeps me so very warm. I took this picture of it to share with all of you. As it turns out profile self-portraits are quite the challenge…<br /><br />And now that I’ve learned to knit and crochet cold weather items, the mercury seems to be rising a bit and life is not quite so cold anymore. I’m not complaining, and perhaps February has some nasty surprises in store, but I just think my timing is so funny. Anyhow, now that the weather is improving, the girls and I are spending much more time outdoors (yay!). I can’t even begin to express how much this has lifted all of our spirits, especially mine. A number of times after working at the Nedi we have packed tea/coffee and delicious snacks (thanks Erin for the candy canes – they were a big hit!), and then hiked up the hills or into the mountains to relax, chat and enjoy our tasty treats. In the way of language, I think it’s the main reason my confidence and skills have improved so much recently. Because everyone is so relaxed on these outings and the conversation is lighthearted and easygoing, I feel more comfortable with experimenting with new words and concepts. Yesterday was really one of the best days I’ve had in the way of language, and I found myself not only understanding some of their jokes but being able to make a couple of them myself.<br /><br />So yesterday we went on one of our Sunday hikes into the mountains, which we hadn’t done since before l’Eid Mqorn. It was a new hike that I hadn’t done before, so it was especially exciting. The girls packed an unbelievable feast for seven and we situated ourselves in the shade near a lovely little clearing. It was so relaxing; there was a gentle breeze, the sound of a trickling stream nearby, the sun was shining, and everything is turning green and blossoming so the scenery was just perfect. I couldn’t believe how much food they brought, but it was all delicious and they made sure I tried everything at least once. To top it off, on the walk home we were treated with the most spectacular view of the moon that is just about full. What a great beginning to what I hope will be a very successful week…<br /><br />And what does this week have in store? For starters, I hope that it brings a quick end to a very stressful house hunt that has wreaked havoc on my nerves for the last 6 weeks. There is hope yet, and if all goes as planned (which it often doesn’t) I will see a house in my own village tomorrow. Also, I know that I will be teaching a few English lessons at the Nedi. Last week, during a lapse in conversation at the Nedi (we were all knitting and crocheting as normal), I was handed a piece of chalk and half-jokingly instructed to teach English. I jumped at the chance to simply do something different, and that started a week worth of impromptu lessons. I’ve never officially taught anything before, so it is really wild to be thrown into it with little more than a 30 second warning, but perhaps that was the best way for me to start. I’m looking forward to this weeks lessons, and so are my “students”; I’m totally amazed at their progress already!<br /><br />Below I’ve included some more photos. I can’t understand why it should make a difference where in the world I am when I’m updating this blog, but for some reason I cannot successfully integrate the photos into the paragraphs above. So until I figure out why, I’ll just have to keep doing it this way. Thanks for reading!<br /><br />Peace,<br /><br />Megan<br /><br /><br />PHOTOS:<br /><br />Beach in Agadir<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R5TNAV-ZnOI/AAAAAAAAAhY/6m_XU7m7aOM/s1600-h/01+-+Beach+Agadir.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R5TNAV-ZnOI/AAAAAAAAAhY/6m_XU7m7aOM/s320/01+-+Beach+Agadir.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157972879028624610" /></a><br /><br />Sunset from the cafe on the beach<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R5TMDl-ZnMI/AAAAAAAAAhI/jS1wLxXmUdk/s1600-h/03+-+Sunset+from+Cafe+in+Agadir.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R5TMDl-ZnMI/AAAAAAAAAhI/jS1wLxXmUdk/s320/03+-+Sunset+from+Cafe+in+Agadir.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157971835351571650" /></a><br /><br />This one speaks for itself...just don't miss the Pizza Hut in the background.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R5TLqF-ZnLI/AAAAAAAAAhA/D1wp5clrLpY/s1600-h/04+-+McDonalds+Agadir.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R5TLqF-ZnLI/AAAAAAAAAhA/D1wp5clrLpY/s320/04+-+McDonalds+Agadir.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157971397264907442" /></a><br /><br />Here's the hat a made!<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R5TLKV-ZnKI/AAAAAAAAAg4/VlU7Ck0f5aI/s1600-h/05+-+Green+Hat+Side+View.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R5TLKV-ZnKI/AAAAAAAAAg4/VlU7Ck0f5aI/s320/05+-+Green+Hat+Side+View.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157970851804060834" /></a><br /><br />A lovely sunny clearing near our picnic spot on our hike.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R5TKjl-ZnJI/AAAAAAAAAgw/kqIqrQc9Vxk/s1600-h/06+-+Sunny+Clearing.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R5TKjl-ZnJI/AAAAAAAAAgw/kqIqrQc9Vxk/s320/06+-+Sunny+Clearing.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157970186084129938" /></a><br /><br />Here we are, just the girls, on a Sunday afternoon picnic<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R5TJ_1-ZnII/AAAAAAAAAgo/jBPWHl4odS8/s1600-h/07+-+Picnic+in+the+Mtns.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R5TJ_1-ZnII/AAAAAAAAAgo/jBPWHl4odS8/s320/07+-+Picnic+in+the+Mtns.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157969571903806594" /></a><br /><br />Naima, Yours Truly, Saadia<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R5TJSl-ZnHI/AAAAAAAAAgg/_zV4ZgKt8EA/s1600-h/08+-+Naima,+Me,+Saadia.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R5TJSl-ZnHI/AAAAAAAAAgg/_zV4ZgKt8EA/s320/08+-+Naima,+Me,+Saadia.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157968794514726002" /></a><br /><br />The almond trees are already blossoming! They're simply lovely!<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R5TIRl-ZnFI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/_o7l5etYeV0/s1600-h/10+-+Almond+Blossom.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R5TIRl-ZnFI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/_o7l5etYeV0/s320/10+-+Almond+Blossom.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157967677823229010" /></a><br /><br />The girls from my village...I love this picture<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R5TH41-ZnEI/AAAAAAAAAgI/B2eWzCbQkiE/s1600-h/11+-+Tifrxin.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R5TH41-ZnEI/AAAAAAAAAgI/B2eWzCbQkiE/s320/11+-+Tifrxin.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157967252621466690" /></a><br /><br />Some yellow flowers<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R5THn1-ZnDI/AAAAAAAAAgA/hPPb2jS418k/s1600-h/12+-+Yellow+Flowers.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R5THn1-ZnDI/AAAAAAAAAgA/hPPb2jS418k/s320/12+-+Yellow+Flowers.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157966960563690546" /></a><br /><br />Some purple flowers<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R5THPl-ZnCI/AAAAAAAAAf4/IS5Feh0YjSo/s1600-h/13+-+Purple+Flower.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R5THPl-ZnCI/AAAAAAAAAf4/IS5Feh0YjSo/s320/13+-+Purple+Flower.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157966543951862818" /></a><br /><br />An argan tree (they make great cosmetic and cooking oil from this tree all over this region)<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R5TGx1-ZnBI/AAAAAAAAAfw/18E_ZRkreM8/s1600-h/14+-+Argan+Tree.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R5TGx1-ZnBI/AAAAAAAAAfw/18E_ZRkreM8/s320/14+-+Argan+Tree.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157966032850754578" /></a><br /><br />Mountain and moon view on our hike down<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R5TGHF-ZnAI/AAAAAAAAAfo/a4fHLcFiMXs/s1600-h/15+-+Full+Moon+(almost).JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R5TGHF-ZnAI/AAAAAAAAAfo/a4fHLcFiMXs/s320/15+-+Full+Moon+(almost).JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157965298411346946" /></a><br /><br />This is a symbol from the Tashlheit written language (no longer used)...oh, and me<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R5TFuF-Zm_I/AAAAAAAAAfg/WUzg02qW5k0/s1600-h/16+-+Me+%26+Berber+Symbol.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R5TFuF-Zm_I/AAAAAAAAAfg/WUzg02qW5k0/s320/16+-+Me+%26+Berber+Symbol.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157964868914617330" /></a>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06332979136566626081noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468414923470745737.post-92131622098425380002008-01-07T08:09:00.001-05:002008-07-10T08:01:38.524-04:00USGGAS MBARKE!Happy New Year! Usggas Mbarke! (oo-sah-gwas em-bar-kee) Don’t you love this time of year when we can look back at the months that have flown by, and look forward towards a clean slate? Even though one year ago I was living comfortably in places with central heating and life now resembles nothing I’ve ever known, am happy to report that my optimism has returned and I am enthusiastic about whatever life will bring me in ’08.<br /><br />Before I get into life since my last post, I wanted to pass along the following info:<br /><br /> - Peace Corps has recently added two new pages to its website; one geared towards the <a href="http://www.peacecorps.gov/50plus">50+ age </a>group and another geared towards <a href="http://www.peacecorps.gov/teens">teens</a> who may be considering volunteering in the future. I’m especially excited about the teen website because I am currently corresponding with students at Westland Middle School and Watkins Mill High School, many of which have expressed an interest in volunteer work. I’ve placed quick links to both on the right side of this page.<br /><br /> - I’ve placed a banner for quotes at the top of the blog that I will change from time to time. I used to do this on my old blog, and I think it has a place here as well. I like to post quotes that have recently served as inspiration or reflect a something I’ve been thinking or feeling.<br /><br /> - On the right you can also find “Fast Facts” - a section I've added where you can find quick info about random things that I have recently done.<br /><br /> - I don’t know if you’ve taken a look at these yet, but on the right side of the page you can find links to some of my fellow PCVs’ blogs. Anjuli, Anny and Mia are all SBD Volunteers serving in Morocco, and were all in my training group. Erin is my cousin who is currently serving as a health volunteer in Malawi. Take a look! They’ll each give you a unique perspective of this wild adventure…<br /><br />So, since I last wrote I’ve “survived” two holidays without too much heartache and loneliness. I cannot tell a lie, Christmas was hard, especially since I was home alone and we were just coming out a of nasty 3 day wind storm during which we lost electricity (thanks, Max, for that emergency radio – it was amazing!). But I got to speak with everyone in my immediate family for quite a long time and Mr. & Mrs. Bushar (thank you all!), and that made all the difference.<br /><br />On Christmas Day I spent the better part of the day baking a carrot cake and chocolate fudge. It was the first time I got to do any baking here in Morocco (which many of you know I love to do), and since I was alone I got to rock out to some holiday tunes at the same time. I also went shopping by myself at the tahanout (shop) for the first time! At around 5pm a small group of women from my duar (village) came over, and I wowed them with a spread of the aforementioned baked goods, popcorn, some cookies a neighbor had made for l’Eid Mqorn, hot chocolate, and (of course) tea. I was also lucky enough to have been the recipient of a small tree (see last post) and holiday garland. So I decorated the room, played holiday music from my MP3 player (thank you Ellen & Paul!) and $5 Radio Shack speakers (Carol, who knew that would be such a great purchase?!). The party was a hit! Not only did it provide the perfect distraction from the potential pity party I was in great danger of suffering, it allowed me to work towards the second goal of Peace Corps: to help promote a better understanding of the American people on the part of the [Moroccans] served. Finally a real, measurable success! So much so, in fact, that on New Year’s Day a number of them showed up at 5pm again inquiring about a party. I was taken by surprise, but as a good Moroccan host I threw together another mini feast. This time the entertainment was me desperately trying to explain New Year’s Resolutions in my broken Tash…<br /><br />At this point I would like to stop and mention that since religious proselytizing is strictly forbidden in all Peace Corps countries, I want to be clear that my Christmas event was focused mostly on the cultural impact the holiday has had on the U.S. as a whole. The women were really interested in learning about it, but were especially enthralled with the sweets and the music (who knew Bing Crosby’s “Christmas in Kilarney” would be such a hit?!). You might be surprised to hear that none of them knew anything about Christmas at all. In fact, I was wished “happy birthday” that day more times than I can count. It was really quite sweet. The experience as a whole served a good reminder that not only do I come from a very difference culture, but that human beings all over the world enjoy learning about other people in far off lands…not to mention that everybody loves a good party.<br /><br />Other than the two holidays and a weekend in my cyber town though, life has been exceedingly quiet. We have only been to the Nedi once in the last 4 weeks, our glorious ladies hiking outings have been postponed by the crazy weather, and most people were out of town for l’Eid Mqorn. I’ve really spent most of my time just trying to keep warm. The temperature in my bedroom hovers around 5°C (41°F) at night, and the house doesn’t get much above 10°C (50°F) during the day, so on days when the sun is out I can be found on the roof basking in its warmth.<br /><br />The good news is that I’ve recently hit (or recognized my progression to) a new plateau in my language ability and can finally plan some work. I understand more than they realize, in fact, and I’ve even been able to crack a few jokes. This all occurred to me when I had a conversation with my host sister and a number of women about the shoe association with whom I’m supposed to be working. I found out that there really isn’t an association any longer since all but 5 of the members are now married (women in my area do not work outside of the home once they are married). This was some very surprising news indeed. I found myself wondering “What am I here to do, then?” Well, they were wondering the same thing (“Why are you here?” I think was how they put it). I told them that I’m here to work with them on whatever they want to do, and this was met with a great deal of confusion sprinkled with a hint of annoyance. I had a moment of panic, but then I recognized that I now had a project for the coming weeks. Hooray! I have to work with the women to help them figure out what they want and need. Oh, duh, I think that was in my training… I know that my language level at this point is going to make it very difficult for me to achieve this overnight, but I’m just happy to have an objective in the month of January other than finding a house to live in (oh yeah, there’s that).<br /><br />Before I sign off I want to pay tribute to a dear friend of mine that passed away the first week in December. We called him Bubba, and for those of you who had the absolute pleasure and good fortune to know him, you know that the man was a legend and will forever be remembered as such. Bubba had a capacity for love and understanding that was truly remarkable, and his commanding voice and booming laugh could bring a smile to the face of even the most pessimistic person. Not only did he serve as a “glue” for the hard working arts and crafts community in which he worked, he was a Vietnam Veteran, a devoted husband, loving father and doting grandfather. His passing was unexpected, but he left us with some very valuable lessons to live by: shower your family and friends with love, forgiveness, acceptance, and Bubba-sized hugs as often as possible! Thanks, Bubs, for being one of my most inspirational mentors and a beloved friend. Knowing you was truly beyond… [James Taylor’s “Shower the People” just came through on the shortwave as I finished writing this. Coincidence? Hmm…]<br /><br />Below you will find some pictures that Mom has been requesting. And just to clarify, the mountains are close. Really close!... <br /><br />Peace in ‘08<br /><br /><br />PHOTOS...<br />-----------------------<br /><br />[Now I can download higher resolution photos, so just right click once on these photos to see the detail...]<br /><br />This is a view looking south at the misty sunrise I got to see on Christmas Eve as I waited for the bus to my cyber town...<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4I2a1-Zm8I/AAAAAAAAAew/k6CmxDepyZI/s1600-h/01+-+Xmas+Eve+Dawn.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4I2a1-Zm8I/AAAAAAAAAew/k6CmxDepyZI/s320/01+-+Xmas+Eve+Dawn.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152740758458571714" /></a><br /><br />...and here I am at my "bus stop".<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4I19l-Zm7I/AAAAAAAAAeo/o2YFP8ys1YQ/s1600-h/02+-+Wtg+for+Bus+Xmas+Eve.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4I19l-Zm7I/AAAAAAAAAeo/o2YFP8ys1YQ/s320/02+-+Wtg+for+Bus+Xmas+Eve.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152740255947398066" /></a><br /><br />This is the moon setting over the mountains. Isn't it amazing?<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4I1Rl-Zm6I/AAAAAAAAAeg/Y8A43lBhPzU/s1600-h/03+-+Xmas+Eve+Moon+Setting.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4I1Rl-Zm6I/AAAAAAAAAeg/Y8A43lBhPzU/s320/03+-+Xmas+Eve+Moon+Setting.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152739500033153954" /></a><br /><br />Way back there is my cozy little village. The road there is the road I walk to go to wait for the bus. The labels say the rest...<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4I0rF-Zm5I/AAAAAAAAAeY/42LgumhUslE/s1600-h/04+-+View+of+Duar+%26+Bckpck.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4I0rF-Zm5I/AAAAAAAAAeY/42LgumhUslE/s320/04+-+View+of+Duar+%26+Bckpck.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152738838608190354" /></a><br /><br />You can see my souk town in the distance, and I live up the hill to the left.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4Iz71-Zm4I/AAAAAAAAAeQ/AQQLJnC-WTE/s1600-h/05+-+Souk+Twn+Dawn.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4Iz71-Zm4I/AAAAAAAAAeQ/AQQLJnC-WTE/s320/05+-+Souk+Twn+Dawn.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152738026859371394" /></a><br /><br />I decorated the salon for my little party. This is what a typical Moroccan salon looks like.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4Izal-Zm3I/AAAAAAAAAeI/dR3yvX_YUP4/s1600-h/06+-+Xmas+Day+Party.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4Izal-Zm3I/AAAAAAAAAeI/dR3yvX_YUP4/s320/06+-+Xmas+Day+Party.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152737455628721010" /></a><br /><br />Mmmmmm, yummy. I spent a lot of time on that pattern in the icing on the carrot cake.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4Iy5V-Zm2I/AAAAAAAAAeA/9m4prx2CxIc/s1600-h/07+-+Xmas+Day+Sweets.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4Iy5V-Zm2I/AAAAAAAAAeA/9m4prx2CxIc/s320/07+-+Xmas+Day+Sweets.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152736884398070626" /></a><br /><br />Here I am with my Christmas cards and my lovely little tree. Yay!<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4Ix9l-Zm1I/AAAAAAAAAd4/DqlSJu1asoI/s1600-h/08+-+Xmas+Day+Decor.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4Ix9l-Zm1I/AAAAAAAAAd4/DqlSJu1asoI/s320/08+-+Xmas+Day+Decor.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152735857900886866" /></a><br /><br />Those are cats Sin and Krad (Two and Three) in the foreground, and those are the lovely mountains we go hiking in background.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4IxcV-Zm0I/AAAAAAAAAdw/AShsbRAP_PA/s1600-h/09+-+Cats+%26+Mtns,+Backyrd.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4IxcV-Zm0I/AAAAAAAAAdw/AShsbRAP_PA/s320/09+-+Cats+%26+Mtns,+Backyrd.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152735286670236482" /></a><br /><br />This is the front of my host house. It's just occured to me it's very similar to the color of Ann and Ellen's beach house.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4IwxV-ZmzI/AAAAAAAAAdo/xQWIoK39-78/s1600-h/10+-+Frnt+House+%26+Mtns.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4IwxV-ZmzI/AAAAAAAAAdo/xQWIoK39-78/s320/10+-+Frnt+House+%26+Mtns.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152734547935861554" /></a><br /><br />Isn't this incredible? This is what it looks like facing west just about every evening. I like to sit on the roof or on the front stoop and just watch the light and the colors change.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4IwWF-ZmyI/AAAAAAAAAdg/zFZdNWI7KGE/s1600-h/11+-+Sunset+over+the+Mtns.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4IwWF-ZmyI/AAAAAAAAAdg/zFZdNWI7KGE/s320/11+-+Sunset+over+the+Mtns.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152734079784426274" /></a><br /><br />Here's another view of the evening mountains from the kitchen window.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4Is8l-ZmxI/AAAAAAAAAdY/hCfimHSEQjU/s1600-h/12+-+Mtns+thru+Ktchn+Wndw.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4Is8l-ZmxI/AAAAAAAAAdY/hCfimHSEQjU/s320/12+-+Mtns+thru+Ktchn+Wndw.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152730343162878738" /></a><br /><br />Ah, this one speaks for itself. I just couldn't resist.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4IsKl-ZmwI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/QGJw8g91C90/s1600-h/13+-+Many+Layers+of+Clothes.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4IsKl-ZmwI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/QGJw8g91C90/s320/13+-+Many+Layers+of+Clothes.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152729484169419522" /></a><br /><br />Yeah, that's 47.5 F indoors, and it got down to 40 F that night. Brrrr!<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4IrLV-ZmvI/AAAAAAAAAdI/LbV9ns05h1Y/s1600-h/14+-+Really,+It%27s+Cold.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4IrLV-ZmvI/AAAAAAAAAdI/LbV9ns05h1Y/s320/14+-+Really,+It%27s+Cold.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152728397542693618" /></a><br /><br />Everyone in my town does their laundry on the roof. It took me three hours to do my laundry that day, but the weather was so nice and I got to listen to BBC News on the radio, so I really didn't mind.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4IqB1-ZmuI/AAAAAAAAAdA/sFCxI3u_uAM/s1600-h/15+-+Lndry+on+the+Roof.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R4IqB1-ZmuI/AAAAAAAAAdA/sFCxI3u_uAM/s320/15+-+Lndry+on+the+Roof.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152727134822308578" /></a>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06332979136566626081noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468414923470745737.post-29762023370972626412007-12-24T08:32:00.000-05:002007-12-24T11:11:20.136-05:00HAVE YOURSELF A MERRY...Now that I've had time to think (and believe me I have plenty of time to do that these days), it occurred to me that I have written very little on this blog since I left home. What's the purpose of having a blog if you don't use it? I know I've posted pictures, but that's not the only reason I started this thing; I really created it to share my experience here in Morocco. So, without further ado, here's what I've been thinking and doing lately...<br /><br />I'm nestled in a small town in the Anti Atlas mountains in the Souss region. What little information I received about my new home sited there being around 3000 residents. I have a very difficult time believing there are even half that many people, especially since my duar (village), which is one of only a handful that make up the greater town, has 9 houses in it. It's quiet, small town living here in the shadow of the beautiful, craggy mountains, and I'm quickly getting comfortable.<br /><br />To give you an idea of the amenities we enjoy here, there are a couple small tahanouts (shops) that carry everything from notebooks to eggs. There's also a teleboutique (phone booths), a small sbittar (health clinic), bosta (post office), a small government center for local officials, an elementary and middle school, and a Nedi (women's center - where I'm working). One of the most exciting things is that once a week we also have a great souk (market) that brings with it fresh fruits, vegetables, spices, meats, clothing, home supplies, and all sorts of other things. Want a fresh chicken for dinner? You can meet meat and then eat meat! (right, Paul?) Does your donkey need a tune-up? No problem!<br /><br />This probably seems like a minor highlight, but in our CBT town there was no chance to get your hands on fresh fruits and veggies, etc. without travelling. And while I have no intention of complaining, because I've certainly been able to make my way all around this country and haven't had one problem, travel here does take planning, waiting and a great deal of patience. Having a souk in my town is a fantastic perk that many other volunteers cannot boast.<br /><br />Now, there are a few things that we do not have in town, namely a cyber cafe. So in order to send emails, update my blog, etc. I have to travel a little over an hour by bus to a bigger town every Monday to do so. The upshot of this is that it gives me a chance to see a good friend of mine (Mahri) from my CBT group and a new friend (Brooke) from YD every week. It also gives me a chance to pick up any miscellaneous hard-to-find items that aren't available in my town. What do I mean? Well, last time I picked up a hole-punch. I've never been so excited about a hole-punch in my life!<br /><br />The pace of day-to-day living is certainly different than what I was used to in LA and DC. In fact, one of the biggest challenges I have faced is finding it within myself to simply relax and accept that I'm on Moroccan time now (what we refer to as "island time" in the U.S. I believe). At first I struggled with this because I'm a serial multitasker as many of you know, but I've actually come to find enjoyment in simple daily tasks such as laundry. In fact, laundry takes up a whole day now! I wash, rinse, wring out and hang to dry each and every piece of clothing by hand. It's quite therapeutic and it gives me an excuse to play in water and spend a day outside (except for jeans - they are a pain). I guess what I'm getting at is that I feel as if I've finally accepted that this completely unrecognizable life I'm now living can be just as (if not more) fulfilling than anything I did before if I allow myself to start looking at things in a new and different way.<br /><br />What is the most difficult challenge I'm faced with currently, though? Well, as the holiday season is in high gear at home I've become acutely aware of the fact that not only am I thousands of miles away from my beloved family and friends, but I'm in a country where these holidays are not recognized. Before joining PC I was aware that I would be missing some of the most beloved holidays and events, but it didn't ever occur to me that I would not see any evidence of these things unless I created it for myself.<br /><br />I've been consumed this past week with thoughts of home, images of decorations and friends and family reuniting dancing in my head, memories of smells and tastes that scream December, and an overwhelming desire to simply sit in the living room by the tree with my family and talk or laugh, or just be. The question is, is it worse to torture myself with these thoughts, or to simply block them out and not think about it at all?<br /><br />While I've been grappling with this jumbled mess of holiday emotions and questions I've busied myself with listening to Christmas music and making cheesy little decorations for myself and my friends. I recently learned some basic crocheting techniques and crocheted myself a tree. It screams "Charlie Brown's Christmas" to me, but that makes me like it even more. I think the people in the town think this decoration is very odd, and believe me when I say I've had a very hard time explaining it in my limited language. But I have a feeling that this decoration will be in my life a very long time, and 30 years from now my kids will be begging their mother to get rid of that horrible crocheted decoration on the door.<br /><br />So the other day as the souk was emptying out in the frenzy right before l'Eid Mqorn, I finished up some light shopping and headed to the post office in hopes that a package my mom and sister sent had arrived. I had promised myself that no matter what it was, I was going to keep it to open on Christmas morning. Sure enough there were a couple of letters (thank you!), four issues of <em>Newsweek</em>, and a box waiting for me. Yay! I trekked up the hill to the house, ripped open the letters as soon as my feet were through the door, and then settled in to catch up on some world news. Oh, but that box to my left was like a siren song and I couldn't keep it off my mind. I kept thinking "Maybe I should just open it". And then "No, if I open it then I won't have anything to open on Christmas". I went back and forth like this for atleast an hour, but finally my curiosity got the better of me and I tore into it to find out what glorious things were inside.<br /><br />I can't tell you how happy I am that I opened that box early. Inside was the most lovely little tree with working mini lights and mini ornaments to decorate with. It even had a tree skirt! I immediately turned on some holiday music, made a pot of tea and got busy decorating my beautiful tree. I was so happy that I had given in to the voices in my head and opened the box. And just when I thought it couldn't possibly get any better, I realized that they had also sent me a new adaptor.<br /><br />Now, to give you a little background, after our last CBT visit in early November I realized I had left my only adaptor behind. And, unfortunately, I wasn't able to find a replacement until the end of the month in Fes. In the mean time I borrowed various friends' adaptors, and my laptop started acting up. I knew the problem was related to the power and the batteries, but I couldn't quite pinpoint it. Anyhow, the first week of December the laptop stopped working completely. I was in shock, not just because I knew it was going to seriously complicate my work here, but also because although I had bothered to invest in a sizeable external hard drive to back up my work, I hadn't actually done any "backing up". How could I be so foolish?!<br /><br />So now here I was with a new adaptor in my hand and a bit of hope in my heart that it may solve my laptop problems. I quickly pulled out the computer, attached the new adaptor, plugged it in and rejoiced when the little charging lights finally appeared. Yeeeehaaaw! A Christmas miracle! I bet Mom and Mara had no idea how very much that package was really going to mean to me. I know I didn't!<br /><br />Life here is a daily challenge, but when moments like this happen and I am reunited with hope and optimism, I am able to feel closer to those at home that I love so much. I won't be there this Christmas for all the hustle and bustle, to visit with family and friends, to hang my ornaments on the tree or exchange gifts. I made this decision and I have to face that. In the true spirit of the holiday, I will simply have to appreciate the little joys of the day and know that as much as I miss everyone back home, they miss me too.<br /><br />So this Christmas I will light my little tree, bake a little cake and make some hot chocolate, play some Christmas music, and (weather permitting) take a hike up the mountain to watch the sunset. I will simply stop torturing myself with thoughts of what could be, and enjoy what is.<br /><br />Peace and love and joy to all of you (and yours) this holiday season!Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06332979136566626081noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468414923470745737.post-18939949987037553802007-12-04T08:57:00.001-05:002008-07-10T07:55:50.861-04:00FINALLY SOME PHOTOS!HELLO ALL! After promising for many weeks to post some new pictures, I have finally done just that. I hope you like them!<br /><br />I also want to say a quick "hello" to all my penpals at Westland and Watkins Mill. Your letters were so great and have really lifted my spirits. I'm working on sending you each a letter in response, and hope to do that within the coming week as life is going back to "normal".<br /><br />I hope you are all having a safe and enjoyable holiday season!<br /><br />PEACE<br /><br /><br />SO THIS IS OUR LOVELY LITTE SCHOOL AT CBT. FROM THE FRONT DOOR WE HAD A GREAT VIEW OF THE WHOLE TOWN.<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Vf09v7VRI/AAAAAAAAAb0/K8WOszyfJck/s1600-h/01+-+Madrasa.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Vf09v7VRI/AAAAAAAAAb0/K8WOszyfJck/s320/01+-+Madrasa.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140119913246709010" /></a><br /><br />I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT GET A KICK OUT OF OUR FAMILY TREE THAT WE PUT TOGETHER FOR OUR UNIT ON FAMILY VOCABULARY. IT WAS A GREAT CHANCE FOR US TO DO A LITTLE CROS-CULTURAL LESSON WITH OUR LCF...<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Vfwtv7VQI/AAAAAAAAAbs/SBca2UlhI3M/s1600-h/02+-+Family+Chart.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Vfwtv7VQI/AAAAAAAAAbs/SBca2UlhI3M/s320/02+-+Family+Chart.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140119840232264962" /></a><br /><br />THIS IS ONE OF THE AMAZING TAJINES THAT WE ATE FOR LUNCH. THERE WERE ONLY SEVEN OF US, AND AS YOU CAN IMAGINE WE NEVER FINISHED THAT MUCH FOOD. IT WAS DELISH, THOUGH!<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VfsNv7VPI/AAAAAAAAAbk/GlulCvU2Nq8/s1600-h/03+-+Amazing+Tajine.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VfsNv7VPI/AAAAAAAAAbk/GlulCvU2Nq8/s320/03+-+Amazing+Tajine.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140119762922853618" /></a><br /><br />HERE WE ALL ARE ON L'EID AT ONE OF OUR HOST FAMILY'S HOUSES AT CBT. IT WAS SUCH A LOVELY DAY AND WE ALL GOT TO DRESS UP.<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Vfodv7VOI/AAAAAAAAAbc/Lrp2c3OQey4/s1600-h/04+-+L%27Eid+Group.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Vfodv7VOI/AAAAAAAAAbc/Lrp2c3OQey4/s320/04+-+L%27Eid+Group.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140119698498344162" /></a><br /><br />THIS IS ME ALL DRESSED UP IN MY FANCY NEW JELLABA (TRADITIONAL MOROCCAN GARB). IT IS SUPER COMFORTABLE AND I CAN'T WAIT FOR AN EXCUSE TO WEAR IT AGAIN.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Vfktv7VNI/AAAAAAAAAbU/sp_RaocpLZ0/s1600-h/05+-+My+Jalaba.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Vfktv7VNI/AAAAAAAAAbU/sp_RaocpLZ0/s320/05+-+My+Jalaba.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140119634073834706" /></a><br /><br />FOR SPECIAL OCCASSIONS LIKE L'EID THE WOMEN ALL GET HENNA. THOSE OF US WHO ARE NOT MARRIED CANNOT HAVE IT ON OUR FEET, BUT THAT WAS OKAY WITH ME. THIS IS THE FREE-HAND DESIGN THAT MY HOST MOTHER DID AND I LOVED IT.<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Vfg9v7VMI/AAAAAAAAAbM/NWnUJjT0xso/s1600-h/06+-+My+Henna.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Vfg9v7VMI/AAAAAAAAAbM/NWnUJjT0xso/s320/06+-+My+Henna.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140119569649325250" /></a><br /><br />I'M IN MY CBT HOST FAMILY HOUSE IN THIS PHOTO WEARING ONE OF MY HOST MOTHER'S SUPER FANCY KEFTANS. I WAS AFRAID TO EVEN MOVE IN IT, ESPECIALLY SINCE IT RAINED THAT DAY AND THERE WAS MUD EVERYWHERE.<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Vfcdv7VLI/AAAAAAAAAbE/tSR980oFrkk/s1600-h/07+-+Jamila%27s+Clothes.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Vfcdv7VLI/AAAAAAAAAbE/tSR980oFrkk/s320/07+-+Jamila%27s+Clothes.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140119492339913906" /></a><br /><br />THESE ARE TWO OF THE ADORABLE GIRLS AT CBT. THEY LOVED TO COME AND VISIT US AT THE SCHOOL - THEIR LAUGHS WERE CONTAGEOUS.<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VfYNv7VKI/AAAAAAAAAa8/6v5B-l4jI58/s1600-h/08+-+Cute+Girls.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VfYNv7VKI/AAAAAAAAAa8/6v5B-l4jI58/s320/08+-+Cute+Girls.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140119419325469858" /></a><br /><br />SO I'VE BEEN KNITTING HERE, AND THIS IS A GIANT BALL OF YARN I ROLLED. I'M VERY PROUD OF IT. :)<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VfUNv7VJI/AAAAAAAAAa0/m1HYrH7XIfs/s1600-h/9+-+Amazing+Ball+O%27+Yarn.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VfUNv7VJI/AAAAAAAAAa0/m1HYrH7XIfs/s320/9+-+Amazing+Ball+O%27+Yarn.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140119350605993106" /></a><br /><br />THIS IS THE VIEW OF THE KASBAH FROM MY CBT HOUSE. I THINK I TOOK THIS SHOT EARLY IN THE MORNING ON THE DAY THAT I LEFT.<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VfP9v7VII/AAAAAAAAAas/JaM58PvnT8I/s1600-h/10+-+Kasbah.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VfP9v7VII/AAAAAAAAAas/JaM58PvnT8I/s320/10+-+Kasbah.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140119277591549058" /></a><br /><br />MIA AND KATE ARE HANDING MOHAMED HIS NEW SIGN, WHICH WAS THEIR INDIVIDUAL PROJECT THAT THEY WORKED ON WITH HIM. ANNY AND I DESIGNED A BROCHURE IN FRENCH AND ENGLISH WITH HIM, AND MAHRI AND ANJULI WORKED ON PRODUCT DEVELOPMENT. THEY WERE ALL VERY SUCCESSFUL PROJECTS.<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VfL9v7VHI/AAAAAAAAAak/gsVg6j6e-Ec/s1600-h/11+-+Mohamed+Project.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VfL9v7VHI/AAAAAAAAAak/gsVg6j6e-Ec/s320/11+-+Mohamed+Project.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140119208872072306" /></a><br /><br />MY HOST SISTER THAT I MISS VERY MUCH. SHE IS THE APPLE OF THE WHOLE TOWN'S EYE.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VfHtv7VGI/AAAAAAAAAac/Sz4HDR98cx4/s1600-h/12+-+Rayane.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VfHtv7VGI/AAAAAAAAAac/Sz4HDR98cx4/s320/12+-+Rayane.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140119135857628258" /></a><br /><br />AH, HERE WE ARE (THE WHOLE GANG) ON OUR LAST NIGHT OF CBT.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VfCtv7VFI/AAAAAAAAAaU/egSmK5D8U4A/s1600-h/13+-+CBT+Group.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VfCtv7VFI/AAAAAAAAAaU/egSmK5D8U4A/s320/13+-+CBT+Group.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140119049958282322" /></a><br /><br />I HOPE THIS IS APPROPRIATE -- IT'S JUST THAT SO MANY OF YOU HAVE ASKED WHAT A TURKISH TOILET IS, SO HERE YOU HAVE IT. <br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Ve99v7VEI/AAAAAAAAAaM/YjvZ8Zn2uVo/s1600-h/14+-+Turkish+Toilet.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Ve99v7VEI/AAAAAAAAAaM/YjvZ8Zn2uVo/s320/14+-+Turkish+Toilet.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140118968353903682" /></a><br /><br />WE HAD A GREAT HALLOWEEN PARTY AT OUR TRAINING CENTER AND I'M THE ONE ALL THE WAY TO THE LEFT AS THE WORLD'S LARGEST CARROT!<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Ve3dv7VDI/AAAAAAAAAaE/PMUN8O3w6Ho/s1600-h/15+-+Halloween.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Ve3dv7VDI/AAAAAAAAAaE/PMUN8O3w6Ho/s320/15+-+Halloween.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140118856684753970" /></a><br /><br />ON THE WAY TO OUR SITE VISIT WE STOPPED ALONG THE WAY TO EAT LUNCH. ROADSIDE TAJINE IS REALLY DELICIOUS!<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VexNv7VCI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/9DmsufGZQWY/s1600-h/16+-+The+Road+to+Agadir.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VexNv7VCI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/9DmsufGZQWY/s320/16+-+The+Road+to+Agadir.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140118749310571554" /></a><br /><br />IN AGADIR THE HILLSIDE IS LIT UP WITH THE COUNTRY SAYING: GOD, COUNTRY, KING. YOU CAN SEE THIS ALL OVER THE COUNTRY, AND IT'S UNIQUELY DESIGNED EVERYWHERE IT APPEARS.<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Vetdv7VBI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/fZWDKL3JxWo/s1600-h/17+-+God+Country+King+Hill.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Vetdv7VBI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/fZWDKL3JxWo/s320/17+-+God+Country+King+Hill.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140118684886062098" /></a><br /><br />AH! HERE I AM ENJOYING MY FIRST REAL ICE CREAM AT THE ICE LEGEND! I KNOW PAUL AND KATIE WILL ESPECIALLY APPRECIATE MY JOY UPON FINDING THIS PLACE.<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Vepdv7VAI/AAAAAAAAAZs/438zAtNc5u0/s1600-h/18+-+Ice+Legend+Bliss.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Vepdv7VAI/AAAAAAAAAZs/438zAtNc5u0/s320/18+-+Ice+Legend+Bliss.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140118616166585346" /></a><br /><br />ON THE WAY TO MY SITE THE FIRST TIME I GOT TO SEE THIS BRILLIANT SUNSET (DON'T WORRY, I ARRIVED JUST AS IT SET AND NOT A MINUTE LATER). OH, AND ERIN, THAT ANSWERS YOUR QUESTION ABOUT THE SUNSETS HERE - THEY ARE INDEED AMAZING.<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Vejdv7U_I/AAAAAAAAAZk/ozVLWiB9Taw/s1600-h/19+-+Sunset+To+Site+Visit.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Vejdv7U_I/AAAAAAAAAZk/ozVLWiB9Taw/s320/19+-+Sunset+To+Site+Visit.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140118513087370226" /></a><br /><br />THIS A VIEW OF MY NEW TOWN. THE HOUSE IN JUST OUTSIDE OF THIS PICTURE TO THE LEFT. I JUST LOVE THESE MOUNTAINS, AND I ESPECIALLY LOVE THAT WE GO HIKING IN THEM FREQUENTLY. YAY!<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Veetv7U-I/AAAAAAAAAZc/HnNt7e1ZgQ8/s1600-h/20+-+IG+New+View.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Veetv7U-I/AAAAAAAAAZc/HnNt7e1ZgQ8/s320/20+-+IG+New+View.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140118431482991586" /></a><br /><br />THE WOMEN OF VILLAGE ALL WEAR THESE LOVELY EMBROIDERED VEILS (ZIF) AND BLACK SKIRTS.<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VeaNv7U9I/AAAAAAAAAZU/w2AQEf2TncQ/s1600-h/21+-+Traditional+IG+Clothing+Kasbah.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VeaNv7U9I/AAAAAAAAAZU/w2AQEf2TncQ/s320/21+-+Traditional+IG+Clothing+Kasbah.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140118354173580242" /></a><br /><br />THESE ARE SOME OF THE AMAZING SHOES THAT THE WOMEN OF MY NEDI (WOMEN'S CENTER) EMBROIDER. THESE WERE A GIFT TO ME BY MY HOST MOTHER - I LOVE THEM!<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VeQ9v7U7I/AAAAAAAAAZE/3A7a_Fpe0PQ/s1600-h/23+-+Fancy+Shoes.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VeQ9v7U7I/AAAAAAAAAZE/3A7a_Fpe0PQ/s320/23+-+Fancy+Shoes.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140118195259790258" /></a><br /><br />THIS IS OUR SBD GROUP JUST BEFORE WE LOADED THE BUS TO SWEARING IN. GOODBYE TRAINING!<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VeMNv7U6I/AAAAAAAAAY8/EtheI5g-WBM/s1600-h/24+-+Group+Shot+Gbye+OZ.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VeMNv7U6I/AAAAAAAAAY8/EtheI5g-WBM/s320/24+-+Group+Shot+Gbye+OZ.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140118113655411618" /></a><br /><br />AH, AN IMPROMPTU THRILLER DANCE PARTY A FEW DAYS BEFORE SWEARING IN. WE REALLY KNOW HOW TO UNWIND AFTER A LONG DAY OF SESSIONS.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VeGtv7U5I/AAAAAAAAAY0/0c4r500UdZ8/s1600-h/25+-+Thriller+Dance+Party.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VeGtv7U5I/AAAAAAAAAY0/0c4r500UdZ8/s320/25+-+Thriller+Dance+Party.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140118019166131090" /></a><br /><br />FACIALS PRE SWEARING IN. I WAS HAPPY THAT MY FACE WASN'T COMPLETELY GREEN LIKE MY HANDS WERE WHEN I WASHED IT OFF.<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VeBdv7U4I/AAAAAAAAAYs/ySW1V54lOLc/s1600-h/26+-+Facials.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VeBdv7U4I/AAAAAAAAAYs/ySW1V54lOLc/s320/26+-+Facials.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140117928971817858" /></a><br /><br />THE BEST PIC FROM SWEARING IN. FROM LEFT TO RIGHT; THE AMBASSADOR'S WIFE, YOURS TRULY (PCV), THOMAS RILEY (US AMBASSADOR TO MOROCCO), AND BRUCE COHEN (DIRECTOR, PEACE CORPS MOROCCO).<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Vd8Nv7U3I/AAAAAAAAAYk/0URz4AwQX0s/s1600-h/27+-+Ambassador+Pic.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Vd8Nv7U3I/AAAAAAAAAYk/0URz4AwQX0s/s320/27+-+Ambassador+Pic.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140117838777504626" /></a><br /><br />HERE'S MY WHOLE CBT GROUP AT SWEARING IN.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Vd2tv7U2I/AAAAAAAAAYc/zF56fUbMs-8/s1600-h/28+-+CBT+at+Swearing+In.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Vd2tv7U2I/AAAAAAAAAYc/zF56fUbMs-8/s320/28+-+CBT+at+Swearing+In.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140117744288224098" /></a><br /><br />...AND HERE'S THE WHOLE SBD GROUP.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Vdwtv7U1I/AAAAAAAAAYU/886Esoh1Ej4/s1600-h/29+-+SBD+at+Swearing+In.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Vdwtv7U1I/AAAAAAAAAYU/886Esoh1Ej4/s320/29+-+SBD+at+Swearing+In.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140117641209008978" /></a><br /><br />ANJULI AND I SIPPING SPICY TEA IN THE SQUARE IN MARREKECH.<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Vdpdv7U0I/AAAAAAAAAYM/I2lP2_tGTPk/s1600-h/30+-+Sipping+Tea+in+MK.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1Vdpdv7U0I/AAAAAAAAAYM/I2lP2_tGTPk/s320/30+-+Sipping+Tea+in+MK.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140117516654957378" /></a><br /><br />A VIEW OF THE SQUARE IN MK - IT WAS AMAZING.<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VdkNv7UzI/AAAAAAAAAYE/PJS1Av_N3y8/s1600-h/31+-+Square+in+MK.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VdkNv7UzI/AAAAAAAAAYE/PJS1Av_N3y8/s320/31+-+Square+in+MK.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140117426460644146" /></a><br /><br />SNAKE CHARMER IN THE SQUARE (YES, THAT'S A SNAKE IN HIS HANDS). SORRY AUNT PATSY.<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VdcNv7UyI/AAAAAAAAAX8/8QZBfIovTw4/s1600-h/32+-+Snake+Charmer+in+MK.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VdcNv7UyI/AAAAAAAAAX8/8QZBfIovTw4/s320/32+-+Snake+Charmer+in+MK.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140117289021690658" /></a><br /><br />BERBER DANCERS IN THE SQUARE<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VdN9v7UxI/AAAAAAAAAX0/BbPxror3i7U/s1600-h/33+-+Dancers+in+MK.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VdN9v7UxI/AAAAAAAAAX0/BbPxror3i7U/s320/33+-+Dancers+in+MK.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140117044208554770" /></a><br /><br />I'M STILL TRYING TO FIND OUT WHO THESE MEN WERE, BUT THE OUTFITS WERE COMPLETELY AMAZING AND I'LL LET YOU KNOW WHAT I FIND OUT.<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VdHdv7UwI/AAAAAAAAAXs/tCRbxWw6xIM/s1600-h/34+-+Red+Men+in+Square+in+MK.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/R1VdHdv7UwI/AAAAAAAAAXs/tCRbxWw6xIM/s320/34+-+Red+Men+in+Square+in+MK.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140116932539405058" /></a>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06332979136566626081noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468414923470745737.post-72069922693362502982007-10-15T11:39:00.000-04:002007-10-21T12:03:59.212-04:00THE ANSWERS TO ALL YOUR QUESTIONS (OR AT LEAST THE ONES YOU EMAILED ME ABOUT MOROCCO)Thank you all so much for sending such great questions. Life is so packed with new experiences and different languages and new people that when I sit down to summarize it all (which I think might in fact be impossible) I find it hard to remember to talk about some of the most obvious things.<br /><br />Below you'll find the questions I've gotten so far, however I'm happy to do this any time so please keep sending questions and I'll answer them whenever I get the chance. Also, for those of you in the classes that I'm in correspondence with, I have not yet received the letters (the post can be slow), but I'm really looking forward to your questions as well!<br /><br /><strong>Are you eating meat?</strong><br /><br />Some of you might not be aware that I was a vegetarian in the states, however I have been eating meat here because I felt it would be too complicated to explain this with all the other challenges that go along with full emmersion. However, I've been having a bit of difficulty with that particular dietary issue and am also quite pleased to find that being a vegetarian is very possible and pratical here in Morocco. In fact, it will be much cheaper and I'm on a tight budget! For now, though, while I'm with a host family it's lamb, beef and chicken...mmm, mmm, good!<br /><br /><strong>How is your wardrobe doing?</strong><br /><br />My wardrobe is fine and she sends her thanks for asking (although my cosmetics are a tiny bit peeved that nobody asked how they are doing). Seriously, though, it's hard to tell this early on if I brought the right clothes. For now it's very easy to use what I brought, but I fear that as it gets colder I will become accustomed to wearing ALL of the clothes I brought at the same time to keep warm. Either that or I will have to learn how to knit something other than a scarf or a hat (perhaps pajamas or a tutu?).<br /><br /><strong>What's a typical day like?</strong><br /><br />Now that Ramadan is over our schedule will change a bit. When we get back to CBT for our 12 day stay we will be attending school from 8 in the morning until 6 in the evening, and during that day we will have a morning and afternoon snack and lunch cooked for us (no nap though, what's up with that?). This is a very exciting turn of events because we have been living off avocados, crackers and Laughing Cow "cheese" for the last month. Anyhow, I get up when the crow starts crowing and the donkey starts braying and I walk myself up the road to school, which by my own estimation is about a 1/2 mile. At school we focus on language, Arabic script and cross-cultural sessions. We are also working with the artisan in the kasbah as our project and so every so often we trek on over there in the afternoon braving wind and sand and comments like "I like you very much! I like one of you very much!" (we don't know which one of us that is yet) After school we head home to our host families; I like to spend some time playing with my little host sister and then I help my host mother in the kitchen (mostly dishes b/c I'm not very good with cooking) for dinner. After dinner we'll sometimes go out in the courtyard and look at the stars, but mostly my host mom and I like to watch the Egyptian soap operas. Then around 10pm or so I head up to my bedroom to read a bit, write in my journal, or play Snake Xenia (rockin' game on my cell phone) before I go to sleep!<br /><br /><br /><strong>Where did September go?</strong><br /><br />I couldn't tell you, but when you find it please let me know if my sunglasses are with it...<br /><br /><strong>Is it really hot there?</strong><br /><br />It was REALLY hot when we first got here, but now that fall has arrived and the rainy season has started it is slowly becoming more tolerable. There's a reason they call this "The cold country with the hot sun". It's seems so strange, but I've finally started sleeping in my cozy sleeping bag at night to keep warm, but then during the day I sweat up a storm and find myself ducking in and out of the shade. In the last week like clockwork every afternoon we have gotten pretty serious thunder storms coming off the High Atlas, which also meant the arrival of the river! It's not the Susquehanna, but it's nice to hear water now -- it has broken the silence and birds have finally showed up!<br /><br /><strong>What is a kasbah?</strong><br /><br />A kasbah or ksar is a fortified city and you can find them in many different places in Morocco. However, the kasbah in our town in one of the most well-preserved kasbahs in the world and has been a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1987. The house that I live in looks directly across the river at it (prime realestate), and I love to sneak up to the terrace at night and look at it in the light of the moon and the stars. Most families, including my host family, moved out of the kasbah to live in the town below because there is no electricity or running water. There are still six families living there, though, and at night you can see their candles flickering through the windows. It really is truly beautiful and we try to climb to the top of it every chance we get. Here is the Wikipedia webpage about kasbahs -- the picture is of ours! <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kasbah">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kasbah</a><br /><br /><strong>Will it snow there?</strong><br /><br />It definitely snows in the mountains during the winter (there's skiing!) but we don't know yet where we'll be stationed so not everyone will have to deal with snow. Apparently it snows in our village every few years or so, but even if there's no snow it still gets to be bitter cold!<br /><br /><strong>How does your host family make a living?</strong><br /><br />My host family owns a tahanout (shop) with cd's and some cosmetics, a food store with soda and candy, and a cyber cafe. My host father and his male relatives run these shops. Each shop caters to the tourists, so you might not be able to find any fruits and veggies, but you sure can buy a Snickers! yummy<br /><br /><strong>Who are you referring to when you talk about your host parents?</strong><br /><br />My official host parents are Abdnasser and Jamila, who are the young couple with the 1 year old. Yes, my host mother is 6 years younger than I am -- we're more like sisters. We have great fun and I think we both like the compaionship.<br /><br /><strong>Do their parents live with them?</strong><br /><br />My host father's parents live with us. They are fantastic grandparents and they certainly make life interesting!<br /><br /><strong>How do you communicate with your host family & friends?</strong><br /><br />I would be lying ("scadoubt" in Tashlheet -- I love that one) if I said we only speak Tashlheet. In fact, my host father and I converse in both English and Tashlheet (he is a great teacher! I even had a test yesterday that he wrote for me!), but my host mother and grandparents and I must converse in Tashlheet because that is the only language we have in common. I oftentimes find myself speaking English anyhow and I really have to catch myself -- it's quite hard to speak a language you don't know. The baby and I converse in noises and hand gestures.<br /><br /><strong>Who is the veiled woman in the pictures with your group?</strong><br /><br />She is our LCF (Language and Cultural Facilitator a.k.a. teacher) Amina. She's the best! We ladies really like to talk a whole lot and she is very patient with us. While she is from Morocco and a native Tashlheet speaker (also knows French, Darija, FusHa, German, English, Spanish) Amina is not from Ait Benhaddou so this is an experience for her as well.<br /><br /><strong>How often do you rock the kasbah?</strong><br /><br />As often as I can and not often enough (the shareef don't like it...).<br /><br /><strong>What do the women in your town do for entertainment?</strong><br /><br />Life in our town is so different than what I'm used to back home, but it's also quite different from the big cities in Morocco and the smallest villages as well. Normally the women visit each other and catch up on local news and stories while they're busy preparing meals -- the kitchen is the social hub of any house because that's where the women spend a great deal of their time. However, my family often sits around and sings Berber songs and drum on the tabletops in lovely and complicated rhythyms that get the baby up and dancing, and that is a whole lot of fun for everyone. The TV aslo seems to be a really important source of entertainment. No movie theaters, no going to Starbucks, no hikes in the mountains, but there is also no lack of fun and laughter for the women of our village.<br /><br /><strong>Do you feel more comfortable now that you're there?</strong><br /><br />Definitely, and especially after L'Eid a few days ago. L'Eid Amzzan is the small feast day that marks the end of Ramadan and fasting. On that day everyone gets all dressed up and they visit each other at their houses (family and friends), and there are a lot of cookies and a lot of mint tea consummed to celebrate the occasion. Because we were lucky enough to be in our villages on this holiday, we were able to meet many of the people that we had only passed on the streets before then (and I'm sure we went confused for tourists). Now more people seem to know us and automatically speak Tashlheet instead of French to us! Also, I've become much more comfortable around my host family and truly feel like I'm a part of their lives -- I will be very sad to leave them next month.<br /><br /><strong>Have you given any camels a noogie?</strong><br /><br />Not yet, but I definitely stood on the street yesterday and stared for a long time at a camel that was itching his neck on a wall. In retrospect, he would have been the perfect dromedarian candidate to sneak attack a noogie -- hindsite is 20/20.<br /><br /><strong>Please to describe the Turkish toilet.</strong> <br /><br />Hmmm. There is a hole on the ground and little foot prints to place your feet in. You have a bucket of water which you use to wash, and then after that you use it to pour down the hole in the ground to flush. It took some getting used to (and also building some essential leg muscles), but I seem to be a pro at it now. Like western toilets, some are really lovely and some not so much, some can handle toilet paper and others can't -- but when nature calls...<br /><br />On that note, I'll finish this for now. Please send any other questions you have, though! It's fun to answer them!Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06332979136566626081noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468414923470745737.post-87902233166387324862007-10-08T12:25:00.001-04:002008-07-10T07:51:54.063-04:00CBT Or Bust!Since my last entry from the cozy confines of the our hotel in lovely Ouarzazate region, we have completed our first phase of CBT (Community Based Training) where we lived with our first host families and began to learn our new language of Tashlheet. Life has certainly been full of pleasant surprises: I can honestly say that my host family is lovely, their house is truly comfortable and offers the most picturesque view of the kasbah and river bed in the whole town, and the weather is quickly improving (there is even some snow at the very tops of the highest mountains!).<br /><br />My group of six was lucky enough to be stationed in a small town in the Ouarzazate region which is world famous for it’s well preserved UNESCO-protected kasbah. The town centers around the kasbah and the huge numbers of tourists it attracts each year, and each one of our host families earns a living from this steady source of income. Some of the host families own auberges, others earn a living as tour guides, some are artisans and bazaar owners that sell Moroccan wares, and families such as mine own tahanuts (shops) where visitors can stock up on candy, soda, and post cards.<br /><br />Each day our group heads to school from 9am to around 4 or 5pm, during which time we are lead in language lessons by our LCF (Language and Cultural Facilitator) Amina and we work on the projects that we must complete for our training. During the first phase of our training our groups were charged with meeting the artisans in our villages, conducting interviews and collecting data on said artisans, and putting together a report to present once back with the whole group in Ouarzazate.<br /><br />We initially established a relationship with a gentleman named Mohamed who is a potter, woodworker, and stone carver (to name a few). His shop inside the confines of the kasbah is a mix of Moroccan buy/sell items that he purchases in Marrakech, and a collection of the clay kasbah models, wooden antique locks and stone items such as trivets that he makes himself. Mohamed has been unbelievably patient with us, especially since it’s Ramadan and we have kept him busy with lots of questions for him that go on for a very long time every time we show up! I feel especially comfortable with him because he reminds me of my own grandfather with regards to his concerns about his village; he’s very involved in the community (put out trashcans in and around the kasbah!), volunteers his time to wire the electricity for village weddings and parties, and is very concerned with creating a training space for the youth of the village to learn the traditional craft and artisan skills of their ancestors that are in peril of being lost completely. <br /><br />About halfway through our stay we were asked to talk to the weavers of the village as well. It was really exciting to conduct these interviews because the weavers are women and they spend the vast majority of their time inside their homes, so in order for us to talk to them we had to go their houses. All of the women were incredibly welcoming (as are all Moroccans - they’re famous for it) and accommodating, and they answered all of our questions without reservation. We also got to see some one of the women demonstrate weaving a rug -- her fingers moved so fast it was hard to keep up.<br /><br />What we found so far is that the needs of this town vary significantly from those of the other sites that our fellow trainees are exploring. Our village has such a steady influx of tourists all year (even in the “off season” there are busloads of them trekking through the village each day) that they are not in dire need of a new source of income. The other unique element is that whereas in many other towns the women’s work does not directly contribute to the financial gains of the family, in our village many of the women work with the men to upkeep the auberges and entertain the tourists, and therefore they do not have the time to create enough woven goods to depend on as income.<br /><br />In the next phase of our training we’ll most likely be working with Mohamed to learn more about his business and how he develops his products. I’m particularly excited about going back to the kasbah, especially since it’s super lovely to hike up to the top and enjoy the wind and the amazing views.<br /><br />In closing, I think it would be fun if you could email me any questions you have and I can post the questions and answers as my next blog entry. Hope everyone’s doing well! <br /><br />Bslama!<br /><br /><strong>PICTURES TO CHECK OUT:</strong><br /><br />My training group in front of our school.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/RwpaH7HNWTI/AAAAAAAAAVE/pUy4x5joxck/s1600-h/01+-+Team+Ait+Benhaddou.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/RwpaH7HNWTI/AAAAAAAAAVE/pUy4x5joxck/s400/01+-+Team+Ait+Benhaddou.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119003018633500978" /></a><br />A view of our classroom<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/RwpaObHNWUI/AAAAAAAAAVM/Ubv1AZ8_HCk/s1600-h/02+-+Ait+B+Classroom.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/RwpaObHNWUI/AAAAAAAAAVM/Ubv1AZ8_HCk/s400/02+-+Ait+B+Classroom.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119003130302650690" /></a><br />The pathway down to the kasbah<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/RwpaZ7HNWWI/AAAAAAAAAVc/B3iWUGrHxXc/s1600-h/04+-+Path+to+Kasbah.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/RwpaZ7HNWWI/AAAAAAAAAVc/B3iWUGrHxXc/s400/04+-+Path+to+Kasbah.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119003327871146338" /></a><br />A camel hamming it up for the camera<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/Rwpak7HNWXI/AAAAAAAAAVk/9stFL5v9UXk/s1600-h/05+-+Smiling+Camel.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/Rwpak7HNWXI/AAAAAAAAAVk/9stFL5v9UXk/s400/05+-+Smiling+Camel.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119003516849707378" /></a><br />Mohamed’s shop in the kasbah<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/Rwpap7HNWYI/AAAAAAAAAVs/rLMTO0iO1Zo/s1600-h/06+-+In+Mohamed%27s+Shop.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/Rwpap7HNWYI/AAAAAAAAAVs/rLMTO0iO1Zo/s400/06+-+In+Mohamed%27s+Shop.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119003602749053314" /></a><br />The group waiting for a taxi to go to souq (no produce in our town!)<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/RwpawLHNWZI/AAAAAAAAAV0/xiQG7jSVxaU/s1600-h/07+-+Waiting+for+the+Taxi+on+Souq+Day.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/RwpawLHNWZI/AAAAAAAAAV0/xiQG7jSVxaU/s400/07+-+Waiting+for+the+Taxi+on+Souq+Day.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119003710123235730" /></a><br />View of the whole kasbah from the river bed down below<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/Rwpa_7HNWaI/AAAAAAAAAV8/BrIjixCdSmc/s1600-h/08+-+The+Kasbah.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/Rwpa_7HNWaI/AAAAAAAAAV8/BrIjixCdSmc/s400/08+-+The+Kasbah.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119003980706175394" /></a><br />Climbing up the kasbah<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/RwpbErHNWbI/AAAAAAAAAWE/I_1kHmdYrqc/s1600-h/09+-+Climbing+Up+the+Kasbah.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/RwpbErHNWbI/AAAAAAAAAWE/I_1kHmdYrqc/s400/09+-+Climbing+Up+the+Kasbah.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119004062310554034" /></a><br />Meg rockin’ the kasbah<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/RwpcM7HNWeI/AAAAAAAAAWU/lWthIyWZes0/s1600-h/10+-+Meg+Rockin%27+the+Kasbah.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/RwpcM7HNWeI/AAAAAAAAAWU/lWthIyWZes0/s400/10+-+Meg+Rockin%27+the+Kasbah.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119005303556102626" /></a><br />Panoramic view of the village<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/Rwpca7HNWgI/AAAAAAAAAWk/NxWSLxyjRzk/s1600-h/12+-+Ait+Ben+Haddou+from+top+of+Kasbah.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/Rwpca7HNWgI/AAAAAAAAAWk/NxWSLxyjRzk/s400/12+-+Ait+Ben+Haddou+from+top+of+Kasbah.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119005544074271234" /></a><br />Top of the kasbah<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/RwpcjbHNWhI/AAAAAAAAAWs/cT6RH1hTq6Q/s1600-h/13+-+Mahri+%26+Her+Sis+at+Top+of+Kasbah.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/RwpcjbHNWhI/AAAAAAAAAWs/cT6RH1hTq6Q/s400/13+-+Mahri+%26+Her+Sis+at+Top+of+Kasbah.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119005690103159314" /></a><br />Cool Pic of valley below<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/RwpcpLHNWiI/AAAAAAAAAW0/tF7RxkQo9Sk/s1600-h/14+-+Kasbah+Door.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/RwpcpLHNWiI/AAAAAAAAAW0/tF7RxkQo9Sk/s400/14+-+Kasbah+Door.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119005788887407138" /></a><br />Cool pic of the top of the kasbah<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/RwpcwrHNWjI/AAAAAAAAAW8/jmQ-1cb3fII/s1600-h/15+-+Kasbah+Window.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/RwpcwrHNWjI/AAAAAAAAAW8/jmQ-1cb3fII/s400/15+-+Kasbah+Window.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119005917736426034" /></a><br />Descending the Kasbah (with a view of the dry river bed in the background)<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/Rwpc-LHNWkI/AAAAAAAAAXE/riakD8y4Iww/s1600-h/16+-+Kasbah+Descent,+Dry+River+Bed.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/Rwpc-LHNWkI/AAAAAAAAAXE/riakD8y4Iww/s400/16+-+Kasbah+Descent,+Dry+River+Bed.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119006149664660034" /></a><br />Panoramic view plaza back at our training site (the colors are correct, I’ve never seen a sunset like it!)<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/RwpdN7HNWlI/AAAAAAAAAXM/_KHOfsURgLM/s1600-h/17+-+Pana+View+of+Plaza.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qJbjCGHHaXc/RwpdN7HNWlI/AAAAAAAAAXM/_KHOfsURgLM/s400/17+-+Pana+View+of+Plaza.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119006420247599698" /></a>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06332979136566626081noreply@blogger.com