Im uploading a video on YouTube and a few photos of my new town, if possible. Theres been a lot since my last post; I will try my best.
Its nearly 6 PM and when these finish I will go watch the football game, Real Madrid vs Barcelona. You can feel more anticipation for that than for Eid Kbir which we celebrated yesterday.
I got here 2 weeks ago, and there was a wedding the first night. It was maybe 300 or 400 people in the same space for three straight days while this happened. The only thing bigger so far was Eid, where the entire town left their homes to pray, go to the mosque, and then go home to kill and start barbecuing their sheep. I was worried about this, never seen an animal killed. And Im vegetarian. But it was a boon in disguise. Putting on the white clothes of a Muslim man, I walked to the side of the Genderame's office. Me and the other foreigner in my town, a German man building a hotel here, went to there. Then when the time came to kill the sheep, I was invited only after it had already begun. So I was able to make an appearance and I saw an animal already covered in red being ¨gibleted¨. But almost as soon as I walked into the courtyard where they did this, my host aunt invited me for tea and a creamy corn thing that tastes like hominy in a corn paste. So this day I dreaded, the biggest day of the year except the end of Ramanadan--which I witnessed, too-- turned into me sitting in my white robes watching WHEN HARRY MET SALLY. And I was happy to see the famous Meg Ryan moaning scene; but the censors took that part out just a minute after it began. But it was a glorious minute. Then they excised the first kiss between the two that happens not much longer after, at their New Year party. But I was so happy because suddenly it was Christmas in New York, snow on the ground, people talking in English. Briefly I was able to catch the Holiday spirit and to think that these Moroccan people must be feeling much the same. You cant imagine how transported I was in those moments.
The second worry was that for the next 2 weeks, these people will only eat the sheep, every meal until its gone, no vegetables. But this turned out to be a secret boon to me. Since the German man and I are both vegetarian, we get special consideration. Before the veggies were all cooked in the same pot as the big piece of meat. Not now. The meat is roasted, and the veggies prepared seperately in their own dish. Yay! so the veggies now actually taste even better and I can eat the entire dish to myself. When i happily realized this I was in a daze. § ° )
Beyond this, I went to the memorial service. After a 13 hour ride to Rabat, I found the hotel full of PCV's. It wasnt long till I discovered that they were not there for the service, but they were 2nd years doing their 72 hour checkout. The end for them would be the day before the memorial. So I met some of them, a few which still have 6 months left and came to usher off the rest. They showed me where the
Ive said before that PC is a giant revolving belt and youre lucky if you get to bump into people further along than you before they are gone for good. In this instant, it was even more lucky than I could imagine. I was able to accompany them to the American Club in Rabat and spent 3 hours or so with them, listening to their stories while they enjoyed hamburgers and beer. Now these people are spread over every continent and in many countries. I was especially interested to meet Edan (possibly Edam) , who had the same host family as me during training... two years ago exactly. This is the person I had heard so much about! My room in training still had a sign on the door: Edan's room.
Then the next day I saw David Lillie give them their last talk as PCVs during the swear-out ceremony. This is the only thing that I didnt get to do in Peru when we were evacuated. I know nearly everything else in PC that there is to have done. But thats an elusive thing to achieve, dependend on a million things going right; many of which are out of our control. A point in fact is that once in Rabat, I saw my friend headed home, in the process of Early Terminating. She was not happy about it.
So one group of people were swearing-out, another group was mourning the loss of their friend (the girl that died was Korean-American, but a good friend of hers was a Korean volunteer. I met her at the service and she told me how she is in Korea's Peace Corps, which is based exactly on the American version. Most impressively, she said how Korea is the first country to have had Peace Corps volunteers and now is sending its own volunteers out into the world... pretty awesome and major success for that country). Still a third group, just one person, was there to go back to home for good. And I also met a Moroccan girl who is an intern at PC headquarters in Rabat. So its strange the reach of what we do, how many different individuals it touches. The worst thing was the idea that the people that knew her best, that spent more time with the girl before she died--the people in her town-- could not be there at the memorial to share their stories with us.
Since I had not known the girl, I went with the intention of meeting her through the stories of the people that were there.
But that will be another post.
The game has started so I will go now. The video didnt upload, the pictures didnt upload, and it says it will take 7 hours to download the latest Radiolab podcast. but at least I wrote!
* other stuff from the trip: met people from my region, we went to see the Michael Jackson concert movie at the Royal Cinema along with a few others, had a turkey kefta thanksgiving, complete with cranberry salad, green bean casserole, stuffing, and both sweet potatoes and mashed potatoes, plus sangria for the alcohol drinkers, then picked up my luggage from
I even found the Cervantes institute, which will be able to supply me with books each time I go to Rabat ... so long as I read them quickly and mail them back. Shouldnt be a problem. ; )
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Friday, November 27, 2009
better to go here http://atwar.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/11/27/celebrating-id-al-adha/
http://atwar.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/11/27/celebrating-id-al-adha/
— Updated: 11:42 am -->
Celebrating Id al-Adha
By JOAO SILVA AND MOISES SAMAN
Joao Silva for The New York Times Iraqis shop at a market in Baghdad on the eve of Id. Iraqis buy mostly sweets, clothing and toys for the holiday.
This holiday weekend Afghans and Iraqis — like millions of Muslims around the world — will be celebrating Id al-Adha.
The festival marks the end of the hajj, when pilgrims descend on Mecca in Saudi Arabia. Also known as the Feast of the Sacrifice, it is when Muslims celebrate the willingness of the prophet Ibrahim to sacrifice his son Ishmael when ordered to do so by God.
Moises Saman for The New York Times A boy selling sheep near Kabul stadium waits for customers in preparation for the Id holiday, which marks the end of the hajj.
In Baghdad ceremonial butchers travel for miles to slaughter sheep, lambs and cows for customers who wait patiently in line at impromptu slaughterhouses set up in fields, parking lots and roadside stalls around the country to watch their chosen animal being killed in ritual Islamic fashion.
Likewise, in Afghanistan families buy the sheep alive and then have it butchered ceremonially. The price of a sheep ranges from $60 to $300, depending on its build.
Here photographers Joao Silva in Iraq and Moises Saman in Afghanistan take a break from the conflicts in both countries to photograph scenes of ordinary life in two capitals that have witnessed so much death, misery and sacrifice in recent years.
Joao Silva for The New York Times
Like Thanksgiving, Id is celebrated around the dinner table (or floor), and food takes center stage. Although turkeys can be found in Afghanistan, the meat of choice for Id is sheep. In Iraq shopping for holidays has become a dangerous pastime in recent years, as bombers have attacked market crowds.
Joao Silva for The New York Times
Nevertheless, every year Iraqis brave the danger to shop for hours in the days leading to the holiday. This year was no different, with parents venturing out with tired children on pre-Id shopping in Baghdad.
Joao Silva for The New York Times
Much of the shopping is also for toys and gifts. Some of these trinkets bring a distinctly Western flavor to the city center souks.
Joao Silva for The New York Times
Joao Silva for The New York Times
— Updated: 11:42 am -->
Celebrating Id al-Adha
By JOAO SILVA AND MOISES SAMAN
Joao Silva for The New York Times Iraqis shop at a market in Baghdad on the eve of Id. Iraqis buy mostly sweets, clothing and toys for the holiday.
This holiday weekend Afghans and Iraqis — like millions of Muslims around the world — will be celebrating Id al-Adha.
The festival marks the end of the hajj, when pilgrims descend on Mecca in Saudi Arabia. Also known as the Feast of the Sacrifice, it is when Muslims celebrate the willingness of the prophet Ibrahim to sacrifice his son Ishmael when ordered to do so by God.
Moises Saman for The New York Times A boy selling sheep near Kabul stadium waits for customers in preparation for the Id holiday, which marks the end of the hajj.
In Baghdad ceremonial butchers travel for miles to slaughter sheep, lambs and cows for customers who wait patiently in line at impromptu slaughterhouses set up in fields, parking lots and roadside stalls around the country to watch their chosen animal being killed in ritual Islamic fashion.
Likewise, in Afghanistan families buy the sheep alive and then have it butchered ceremonially. The price of a sheep ranges from $60 to $300, depending on its build.
Here photographers Joao Silva in Iraq and Moises Saman in Afghanistan take a break from the conflicts in both countries to photograph scenes of ordinary life in two capitals that have witnessed so much death, misery and sacrifice in recent years.
Joao Silva for The New York Times
Like Thanksgiving, Id is celebrated around the dinner table (or floor), and food takes center stage. Although turkeys can be found in Afghanistan, the meat of choice for Id is sheep. In Iraq shopping for holidays has become a dangerous pastime in recent years, as bombers have attacked market crowds.
Joao Silva for The New York Times
Nevertheless, every year Iraqis brave the danger to shop for hours in the days leading to the holiday. This year was no different, with parents venturing out with tired children on pre-Id shopping in Baghdad.
Joao Silva for The New York Times
Much of the shopping is also for toys and gifts. Some of these trinkets bring a distinctly Western flavor to the city center souks.
Joao Silva for The New York Times
Joao Silva for The New York Times
Friday, November 20, 2009
Just checking in to say im O.K. and photos from lately
This is Youth Development waiting to happen
Towards Mehdia, where we stayed for a couple of weeks, some at the beginning and some at the end of training " We make our beaches smile!"
Jack talking with Andrew... sharing experience. Jack did Peace Corps in Turkey ' 65 and now again in Morocco.
Host brother Hassan in Sefrou
Going between Marrakesh and Ourzazate. I did the entire trip, Rabat to Kob in 13 hours yesterday... but its a lot more fun if you split it up in 2 days, and go to eat at the Cafe Earth vegetarian/ vegan a couple of times before resuming the trek.
Mehdia, where we lived or a couple of weeks, being processed & adapting to the culture
A cactus farm on the way to my town... start of the Sahara desert!
A picture from the back window on the bus, Marrakesh. The cities are so developed, they are amazing and great.
Pic from Marrakesh. Several of us stayed there on the way to our sites for the first time.In Rabat now, at the Peace Corps lounge hanging out with the C.O.S. group. They will be RPCV's in 2 hours, I heard one of them say. I already am, but it will be a whilebefore I am again. I saw the medical doctor, and we spoke at length, making sure that Im healthy, that my language is working at my site (i said : some know French, some know Arabic, some know Spanish, some English... each person I see I have to speak something different to them. The problem is that the langauge everyone speaks, Tashlehight, they all know and I don't).
I dont want to take the computer up all day... the only thing to add is that I now weight 183 pounds. I used the medical scales at the medical office below the PCV lounge, so this means Ihave lost 17 pounds at least, and maybe 22. Ten weeks, one-and-a-half or two pounds a week!
But I feel about 95% healthy, the only trouble is that I bit my cheek badly and its very tender.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Ill be going to Rabat this weekend for the memorial of Sou-Youn Kim. But I wanted to put my first email with WWS here on the site.
Sorry, I am at a Cyber cafe and the message sent immediately without my being able to type anything.
Hello! I live in the Sahara desert in Morocco, in the Zagora region. It is my first week here as a Peace Corps volunteer after 9 weeks of training in the North of Morocco, which is very European and green. In contrast, my town is almost exactly the opposite. Beyond the door there are sand dunes, mountains, dried river ouds and the oases of the Draa river that host different towns. My town is Kob (not the real name) and it is on one of these oases.
Im 24 years old, I come from Tennessee and I studied at the University of Memphis. This is my second time to serve in Peace Corps, because I was a volunteer for all of 2008 in Peace Corps Bolivia, but we were evacuated after being in country for 8 months. I went home for a year to be with my family, helping to watch over my 1 year old niece and my grandmother who is bed bound after having a stroke 4 years ago.
It was hard to leave Bolivia, but Im glad to have the opportunity to come to serve in Morocco. I see you are from Louisville. My good friend from Peace Corps Bolivia came from there, AndrewPorter. After evacation, he went on to serve in PC Paraguay and is nearly finished there.
I do not know anything of what ages you teach, or what school subjects you do. At college I studied Spanish, French and Portuguese, with a minor in Music. Since leaving there, Ive lived in countries for different periods of time that speak all of those languages. But as a PCV it is possible to become much closer to the people in those places because they do such a good job preparing their volunteers to integrate into the community. And working in a place for 2 years, you have the opportunity to really feel at home and to make an impact. Hopefully I can find something sustainable, since as a Youth Development volunteer I can directly share life skills that will remain in Kob long after Im gone.
I look forward to starting a dialogue with your classroom. I have the advantage of going through this process for the 2nd time as a PC volunteer, so I will be able to reflect not just on the differences between here and there but also to share what I have experienced while in countries like Bolivia, Brazil and Colombia. The first time in PC Bolivia I was an agriculture volunteer, working with a beekeeping association and a school garden program at an exchange school in Candelaria, Bolivia; I lived at 10,000 feet above sea level. Now Im adjusting to my new community and Im looking forward to competing in the 2011 Marathon Des Sables, a race near here which I completed in 2005. It was my first trip abroad then, and it was a 155 mile ultramarathon race through the Sahara desert. Maybe as I prepare for this race again, it can serve as a springboard to talk with your class about the best ways to set goals, how to make long term plans and how to properly evaluate what is success and what is not in more positive terms.
Some day we can maybe set up a Skype call, or something along these lines? I will try to put a Postcard in the mail by the end of the week, I think PC sent me your mailing address already.
Tala frask - ¨Take care of your head¨. Bslama, bye bye.
Ben Pennington
Sorry, I am at a Cyber cafe and the message sent immediately without my being able to type anything.
Hello! I live in the Sahara desert in Morocco, in the Zagora region. It is my first week here as a Peace Corps volunteer after 9 weeks of training in the North of Morocco, which is very European and green. In contrast, my town is almost exactly the opposite. Beyond the door there are sand dunes, mountains, dried river ouds and the oases of the Draa river that host different towns. My town is Kob (not the real name) and it is on one of these oases.
Im 24 years old, I come from Tennessee and I studied at the University of Memphis. This is my second time to serve in Peace Corps, because I was a volunteer for all of 2008 in Peace Corps Bolivia, but we were evacuated after being in country for 8 months. I went home for a year to be with my family, helping to watch over my 1 year old niece and my grandmother who is bed bound after having a stroke 4 years ago.
It was hard to leave Bolivia, but Im glad to have the opportunity to come to serve in Morocco. I see you are from Louisville. My good friend from Peace Corps Bolivia came from there, AndrewPorter. After evacation, he went on to serve in PC Paraguay and is nearly finished there.
I do not know anything of what ages you teach, or what school subjects you do. At college I studied Spanish, French and Portuguese, with a minor in Music. Since leaving there, Ive lived in countries for different periods of time that speak all of those languages. But as a PCV it is possible to become much closer to the people in those places because they do such a good job preparing their volunteers to integrate into the community. And working in a place for 2 years, you have the opportunity to really feel at home and to make an impact. Hopefully I can find something sustainable, since as a Youth Development volunteer I can directly share life skills that will remain in Kob long after Im gone.
I look forward to starting a dialogue with your classroom. I have the advantage of going through this process for the 2nd time as a PC volunteer, so I will be able to reflect not just on the differences between here and there but also to share what I have experienced while in countries like Bolivia, Brazil and Colombia. The first time in PC Bolivia I was an agriculture volunteer, working with a beekeeping association and a school garden program at an exchange school in Candelaria, Bolivia; I lived at 10,000 feet above sea level. Now Im adjusting to my new community and Im looking forward to competing in the 2011 Marathon Des Sables, a race near here which I completed in 2005. It was my first trip abroad then, and it was a 155 mile ultramarathon race through the Sahara desert. Maybe as I prepare for this race again, it can serve as a springboard to talk with your class about the best ways to set goals, how to make long term plans and how to properly evaluate what is success and what is not in more positive terms.
Some day we can maybe set up a Skype call, or something along these lines? I will try to put a Postcard in the mail by the end of the week, I think PC sent me your mailing address already.
Tala frask - ¨Take care of your head¨. Bslama, bye bye.
Ben Pennington
Peace Corps Mourns the Loss of Volunteer So-Youn Kim
Peace Corps Mourns the Loss of Volunteer So-Youn Kim
Peace Corps Director Aaron S. Williams is saddened to announce the death of Peace Corps/Morocco volunteer So-Youn Kim. Ms. Kim passed away on November 16 in Marrakech unexpectedly after an illness. The exact cause of death remains unknown.
“So-Youn was an exemplary volunteer, passionate about public service and creating programs that benefited communities from the Bay Area to Morocco,” said Director Williams. “She was a tireless advocate, a remarkable writer, a voracious reader and talented in many languages. My thoughts are with her friends and family who join me in mourning a respected member of the Peace Corps family.”
Ms. Kim of San Francisco was 23 years old. She graduated from Stanford University in 2007 and began her Peace Corps service in September 2008. Ms. Kim served as a youth development volunteer in Tamagourte, a small village within the Errachidia province in the Meknès-Tafilalet region of Morocco. Ms. Kim’s primary assignment was serving in a youth center where she was involved in a wide range of activities in her dual role as English teacher and youth development worker.
In addition to her primary assignment, Ms. Kim sought out additional activities focused on helping the pottery cooperative in Tamagourte and developing an apprenticeship program. She loved to teach children, support the cooperative and respect the historic craft that is so firmly rooted in that region of Morocco.
http://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.media.press.view&news_id=1507
In September of 2008, Ms. Kim submitted a thoughtful and hopeful Peace Corps aspiration statement. She described her outlook on her service project, and wrote, “Youth development work is effective when young people are taught to become educated, empowered, and responsible members of their communities while being given space to explore and share the challenges of their own individual identities.” This is an ethos and passion Ms. Kim brought with her to Morocco.
The Peace Corps community will hold a memorial service for Ms. Kim on Saturday, November 21 in Morocco.
ABOUT PEACE CORPS/MOROCCO
Since 1963, over 4,315 Peace Corps volunteers have served in Morocco. Peace Corps/Morocco Volunteers are assigned to projects in four primary areas: youth development, health, environment, and small business development. Currently, 254 Peace Corps Volunteers are serving in Morocco.
Contact
Press Office
Phone
202.692.2230
Fax
202.692.1379
pressoffice@
peacecorps.gov
WASHINGTON, D.C., November 17, 2009
Sunday, November 15, 2009
First blog from Corn on the Kob!
First blog from Corn on the Kob!
It was a great thing to be on the train for the first time with a Morocco Lonely planet travel guide, and I open it up to my town... theres only a paragraph, but it says about Kob : The greatest secret in all of Morocco is this nice exuberant town... thats a lot better than Wes's town whose first sentence says : There's no reason to stop in this dusty old mining town. Haha, but then again there's a difference between stopping in a place while on a strict time limit and getting to know a town like we do in PC...
As it is, I'm lying on the floor on a few thin pallets that were made into a bed for me in my room, one of two that belong to me for the next 6 weeks while I acclimatize to my new town and before I find my own place to stay here. The house is interesting, very large, very spacious, full of rooms, some of them for tourists that my host dad plans to bring here in the future. There's a roof and within 10 meters of leaving the door, the town plunges downward to the Draa river and the heart of the palm oasis that cuts through the valley. So I step out the door and to my right is the rest of the town up on the plateau and then to my right is the tops of the palm trees, thick and full and gorgeous.
My room is apart from the rest of the house in a sort of tower of rooms. That's because the two different courtyards separate the rooms into different sections of house that aren't connected above the first floor.
Some random thoughts from today:
“I'm so glad I have a cell phone with a flashlight on the end of it!"
“Five dirhams for kow-kow (peanuts) goes a lot farther here than in Sefrou!” The bag was a lot heavier than anyone that's been given to me before.
“This is like living more in Tarabuco than in Candelaria, but with less tourists so everyone remains nice.” In other words, there is a lot of traffic since this is the souk town, people come here from all over each Sunday to get there groceries and practical things. But they are all locals instead of foreign people with their guide books that don't understand the culture. So it's commerce without clash.
I felt confident and happy yesterday with my level of Darija and that I was able to talk to my host dad so well. But I've since found that my host dad is an exception. Everyone else is just Tash exclusively. At least I will be spending my time at schools, the kids all know French and some Darija. The others is a different story, but at least my job doesn't depend as much on communicating with them on a regular basis, at least in the beginning.
This morning was a wedding and before that the souk, so I feel that of the 4000 people that live here, today I saw maybe 25% of them and another 500 that don't live here. And it seemed that my host dad knew nearly all of them. He's a very charismatic and fun man to know, which I saw on display today watching him play with fireworks in front of the wedding car ('il faut rigoler quelque fois chaque mois') and when I first spoke to him on the telephone and in the street when he embraced me without having the time to comprehend who he was. “ Benji!” KISS KISS, KISS KISS, KISS KISS. His head moved from cheek to cheek in a blur so I couldn't see who exactly he was.
The energy level yesterday and today was intense, and now I feel guilty for staying here while there is an all-night party waiting for me.
Things seem to be fine on the work front. There's no english teacher at all, so I have the opportunity to do some of that—maybe train an english teacher group?--and that means I don't have anyone angry at them for doing their job for free. That happened to Clark and it's not the kind of friction that you want when you're first starting out (the teacher at Clark's first town spread rumors he was a spy because of this).
I was with a friend in Rabat and I pointed out a very broad man who had a great hat and a beautiful white beard, very lush gorgeous black skin. “I love the diversity here in these big cities.” There were people from all over West Africa and Europe, and the Arab world. And it's true. But just being in my town, it's a smorgasbord of human genetic diversity. This is where the nomads came through after traveling thousands of miles in the Sahara desert. There's Berbers, Arabs, and the Romans. Romans are those that have red hair and freckles superimposed on African features. And there's even people from Tennessee (me!). Today I told how my state makes all of the country music, 'for the cowboys'.
And apparently cowboy means 'pistol' so I said that and the 5-year old girl Rislan held up her hands and made shooting noises. Then I said that cowboys were the ones on the horses (chevals) with lassos... 'Ah! Comme les indiens”. Like the Indians. Yes. And that to me is a funny thing, how that before there was a lot of regional TV, the spaghetti western TV shows from America in the 60s were imported all over the world, so talking to anyone 40 or 50 years and older, and they know those shows ! Even in Bolivia this was true. They might only know how to speak Quechua, but they can sing the Moricone songs as much as anyone else. In Sefrou I said this and my host dad there sang the tune from any Clint Eastwood movie that I could name.
-The road that I traveled on yesterday had post-markings to the nearest big regional cities. I was glad to see that it said Rachidia, 300 km or 180 miles from here. That means my friends are even less than that—maybe. There is supposed to be a good music store there, so I hope to travel there before too long, maybe come back with a guitar. This morning I gave my host brother a lesson on playing the oud, he seemed to like it. But I wonder what I can do to include my host sister, that is about the same age.
As far as going to nearby places, I'll be traveling soon to Zagora, next weekend maybe, in order to pick up my two baggages that were shipped there and to get to know it.
OK, since I should move to the party now, I will copy some of my gratitude journal to this and pick a few pictures. This is the past 4 days or so.
11-11-09
last day as PCT's, tomorrow swearing in!
-spoke to my mom today on the phone, to catch up and fill her in. Bad reception though, so I will try again soon.
-sang in the talent show! Yorda was the M.C. Sam and I played simple gifts, then he did a version of eye of the tiger singing by himself, with words about morocco-hilarious- and then later we did a moroccan song. I forgot to explain to everyone that I sang Simple Gifts because it was something that we did at Swearing-In in Bolivia.... and that's why I sang it with my alpaca wool hat on my head and my Brazil belt on... symbolism. But I was trying not to forget the words, so I forgot to give any kind of background about that. But there were some other great things. Juan did karaoke to heard it through the grapevine, pete jason and danielle did a dance version without singing to THRILLER,
-the most fun part was at the end of the song with the LCF's, mbarak jumped up and danced back and forth, jumping like a rock star.... as did I. So we were rocking out on our Ouds while the 8 language teachers sang behind us. It was AWESOME, the kind of stuff you hope to be able to do when coming here.
-rachid made some great and funny videos from footage and photos that he collected. It was nice to see everything in that way and share those moments, some funny some cool, beautiful and amazing. I just wish SBD had the same thing! Even after the few days here, they still remain a mystery to me, how their CBT homestay experience was.
-azalia said she hadn't laughed that hard in a long time to me. I think we all felt the same way<
-sat with sam and fauve watching some of HE GOT GAME before the big show began, walked in to see Rachid getting ready with Yorda, who was reading a storym the conference room rearranged into a circular area as a stage, surrounded by a ring of candles sitting on the floor (during the show some people jumped up in fright as they remembered that they could go up in flames if they got too close). He told me Mbarak wanted us to practice upstairs on the terrace. So it was cool to see them arguing and giving orders to each other in the cold night on the roof in Darija, slightly nervous and unsure of their upcoming spot in the show.
-today David Lillie spoke to the whole group and it was a nice good pep talk
-funny to hear Ewald and jack joking earlier about what kind of vehicles they could use besides driving cars... hot air balloon (my idea, not motorized), gyroscope, sailing boat. Were they off limits as well?
-nice to have good memories re-enter my mind from last swearing-in, stuff I hadn't thought about in a while as I go through swearing-in again!
-glad to know that the Dr. told me that there is a direct way from my town to rachidia, I dont have to go all the way to ourzazate first
-got two nice emails from serena
-decided to go through ourzazate, spend the night there then go on the next day to corn on the kob! With william and cara, too!
-ate a lot of yummy olives... 15 of them? 20? good sandwich with cabbage reminded me so much of cole slaw sandwiches from back home.
11-14-09
saturday, first afternoon and night in Corn on the kob!
But first, marrakesh
-thursday, rabat: swearing-in, met the ambassador, he told how he met Ambassador Holbrooke, who helped the otehrs go through Ambassador training, and that 'he told us a lot of great stories about Bolivia'. I felt proud when he spoke to us during the ceremony and he referenced Obama's 'greatest memories coming from his time as a community organizer', which is what we are doing here. He also said : “I've been in a privileged position in the 6 weeks I've been here, but there's nothing except being in the presence of his Majesty the King that makes me so proud as to be here before you.” He's not the only one that Obama sent to Morocco. I've done PC twice because of Morocco, and I feel that his receipt of the Nobel Prize last month makes sense for those of us American Ex-Pat's and PCV's that are working in the Muslim world now. The one time that PC Morocco was shut down was when the Iraq war started, after all. Now things are far better.
-glad to see fatima one last time, my language teacher, but sad to say goodbye that night. I sent her several messages from the train and things, thanking her and promising to visit tinjdad!
-nice lunch on the PC property under tents
-cara won the contest for : think of an alternate use for hammam soap, 'I'd use it instead of toilet paper'. And she shared her earnings with me, a bag of snicker's bars!
-thursday night, went to the art gallery, met very charismatic 'hasher runners' that are rich and educated and beautiful— total 'BoBos', my kind of people... ?. The art was great, I got 2 pamphlets to cut out the paintings and hang them on my wall, one for me and one for other vols I know. Met the artist, too, a Moroccan man from Azila, in the North.
-came home to discover beautiful pictures of mae were published on a blog, so I downloaded them and have been showing off my niece! GORGEOUS ONES. I need to write them a letter and send mae a post card from here.
-Kob seems to have a lot of amenities, as did ourzazate. Maybe in a week I can go to zagora.
-good breakfast, sat with rachid, a little bit with juan, learned rachid will be in spain for 10 days, everything was precious and the emotions sincere. Walked up to an italian man, asking him about if he was a karate coach and if he knew Signore Gallucci, national champion 'fa molti anni'. He said no, he was from naples but that his son was world champion for his age group. I told him “Buona fortuna” but he quickly clasped my forearm, drew me close, wagged his finger and said “In boca al luppo”. Oh yes.... you're supposed to say that, it's the Italian equivalent of 'break a leg', or of not saying 'Macbeth' and instead saying 'the Scottish play'.
Then on the train to marrakesh, had a good time with anna and will on the train, hanging with cristopher and joli while they waited by the door for their stop, got pictures of that. Sat that morning with sam and yorda and got pics of them getting on the train, I had leftover penne all'arabiata that I saved from the Goethe Institute and it was extremely goood.
-marrakesh, ate with seth, penny, anna and will at the Cafe Earth, a vegan and vegetarian restaurant run solely by a young moroccan girl. Ate a delicious veggie burger—more like a glorified potato cake, no bun, full of green beans, nuts, veggies and good stuff, plus soy sauce sprinkled around the rim of the plate. Plus some apple/orange juice mix, and I tried the other things, salad with goat cheese, god I miss it already.
-sat with Penny atop the balcony for an hour or more, provoking her to talk about her experiences, thoughts about joining peace corps, ambitions for it and what she thinks she would like to do here. That is an essential thing to do, to constantly reevaluate what we are doing here and why.
-woke up, met wes, went to buy tickets with him at 7 AM. Got spots on the bus, then shared breakfast with Will, delicious bread and olive oil, butter and molasses. Discoursed on the nature of the croissant as well.
-GOOD BREAD in a little town between Mrkesh and Ourzazate. It was hobz style bread but with yeast, 1.50 D's, and worth 10x that. Would be good for an impromptu pizza.
-met a frail old berber lady with tattoos on her face who surprised me when she spoke very good french! I held her inside arm while she slid into the front seat, but she seemed lively, just frail.
-glad to be in the sahara again! After getting off the taxi, I sat around for 45 minutes until a bus came through towards Kob. And there was a young black african boy staring at me for 20 minutes of the ride, and I met a friend, the first guy I met from Kob, Jamal. He asked what I was going to do, who I knew, and when I got off the bus later, he helped call Zaid. Not even there and I have a friend to help me.
-so, the family! Zaid, Aicha, Mohammed, Ilheim, Rrislam, and Yassine (2months old! I;ve been in Morocco since before he was even born!) after meeting them, talking in french, tash, arabic, english, we watched cartoons and part of the brasil – england game. Then part of the egypt-algeria game.
Before too long, I got a tour of the BIG house, put my things in my room, unsorted it all, sat with Zaid on the roof, learning how he was in the military for 11 years, but that 'he won his liberty and left it, won the treasure of being here with his family instead of away for 5 months at a time.'
-father discoursed some on tash vs. tam, and so many things. Very interesting and lively conversation for an hour while the stars gradually came out in abundance—the sky here is exactly as good as it was in candelaria! Shocking in fact. I'd say it;'s like being in Candelaria again, but with camels. Especialy driving through the valley here, it mimicked the process of driving through the valley in the last 20 kms before getting into Candelaria.
-told Penny how it may seem frustrating that we don't have a giant packet of info, and we don't have a volunteer that we are replacing who can tell us in a day more than it will take us 3 months to find on our own. But I said that: 'when you consider that each site had a person at the beginning who was the one that spent 3 months finding out the things that are later passed on to each successive volunteer, being able to look like that at the long-term process of site development and your place in that, then you can see that we have the opportunity of being that person who prepares the way for the rest later. And that seems like a wild, great adventure!
-im not ben anymore—sometimes Benji-- but my arabic name Nabil, berber name ADI! Several times I forgot it and I sat there thinking, what is Adi? Then they say : unta adi! Then I smile and yell, OH! ANA ADI. I am Adi now! Another time this happened, each person at the dinner table (seated on the floor), said their name and last name. Zaid Daoudi, Ilheim Dauodi, Aicha Daoudi, etc. When it came to my turn, I said : Adi Daoudi. As if I was one of of the Daoudi family now... It was the first time I got a big laugh from everyone, so it helped lighten the mood and to humanize me some on my first day there.
-mohammed seems like any enthusiastic, young person that gets so excited when the conversation goes to HIS topics of choice, and his eyes light up and he is a little bit of a nerd. Just like me way back then. Eager to use that specialized vocabular for the things that he likes. Im glad that this is a family that I will grow with during my time here. And they seem to really like each other, a lot of affection.
-nice to hear Mhmed say 'bon nuit' to me while I walked up the stairs, loud enough for me to hear even though I was just beyond the door.
tomorrow, souk day! I bet it will be crazy
It was a great thing to be on the train for the first time with a Morocco Lonely planet travel guide, and I open it up to my town... theres only a paragraph, but it says about Kob : The greatest secret in all of Morocco is this nice exuberant town... thats a lot better than Wes's town whose first sentence says : There's no reason to stop in this dusty old mining town. Haha, but then again there's a difference between stopping in a place while on a strict time limit and getting to know a town like we do in PC...
As it is, I'm lying on the floor on a few thin pallets that were made into a bed for me in my room, one of two that belong to me for the next 6 weeks while I acclimatize to my new town and before I find my own place to stay here. The house is interesting, very large, very spacious, full of rooms, some of them for tourists that my host dad plans to bring here in the future. There's a roof and within 10 meters of leaving the door, the town plunges downward to the Draa river and the heart of the palm oasis that cuts through the valley. So I step out the door and to my right is the rest of the town up on the plateau and then to my right is the tops of the palm trees, thick and full and gorgeous.
My room is apart from the rest of the house in a sort of tower of rooms. That's because the two different courtyards separate the rooms into different sections of house that aren't connected above the first floor.
Some random thoughts from today:
“I'm so glad I have a cell phone with a flashlight on the end of it!"
“Five dirhams for kow-kow (peanuts) goes a lot farther here than in Sefrou!” The bag was a lot heavier than anyone that's been given to me before.
“This is like living more in Tarabuco than in Candelaria, but with less tourists so everyone remains nice.” In other words, there is a lot of traffic since this is the souk town, people come here from all over each Sunday to get there groceries and practical things. But they are all locals instead of foreign people with their guide books that don't understand the culture. So it's commerce without clash.
I felt confident and happy yesterday with my level of Darija and that I was able to talk to my host dad so well. But I've since found that my host dad is an exception. Everyone else is just Tash exclusively. At least I will be spending my time at schools, the kids all know French and some Darija. The others is a different story, but at least my job doesn't depend as much on communicating with them on a regular basis, at least in the beginning.
This morning was a wedding and before that the souk, so I feel that of the 4000 people that live here, today I saw maybe 25% of them and another 500 that don't live here. And it seemed that my host dad knew nearly all of them. He's a very charismatic and fun man to know, which I saw on display today watching him play with fireworks in front of the wedding car ('il faut rigoler quelque fois chaque mois') and when I first spoke to him on the telephone and in the street when he embraced me without having the time to comprehend who he was. “ Benji!” KISS KISS, KISS KISS, KISS KISS. His head moved from cheek to cheek in a blur so I couldn't see who exactly he was.
The energy level yesterday and today was intense, and now I feel guilty for staying here while there is an all-night party waiting for me.
Things seem to be fine on the work front. There's no english teacher at all, so I have the opportunity to do some of that—maybe train an english teacher group?--and that means I don't have anyone angry at them for doing their job for free. That happened to Clark and it's not the kind of friction that you want when you're first starting out (the teacher at Clark's first town spread rumors he was a spy because of this).
I was with a friend in Rabat and I pointed out a very broad man who had a great hat and a beautiful white beard, very lush gorgeous black skin. “I love the diversity here in these big cities.” There were people from all over West Africa and Europe, and the Arab world. And it's true. But just being in my town, it's a smorgasbord of human genetic diversity. This is where the nomads came through after traveling thousands of miles in the Sahara desert. There's Berbers, Arabs, and the Romans. Romans are those that have red hair and freckles superimposed on African features. And there's even people from Tennessee (me!). Today I told how my state makes all of the country music, 'for the cowboys'.
And apparently cowboy means 'pistol' so I said that and the 5-year old girl Rislan held up her hands and made shooting noises. Then I said that cowboys were the ones on the horses (chevals) with lassos... 'Ah! Comme les indiens”. Like the Indians. Yes. And that to me is a funny thing, how that before there was a lot of regional TV, the spaghetti western TV shows from America in the 60s were imported all over the world, so talking to anyone 40 or 50 years and older, and they know those shows ! Even in Bolivia this was true. They might only know how to speak Quechua, but they can sing the Moricone songs as much as anyone else. In Sefrou I said this and my host dad there sang the tune from any Clint Eastwood movie that I could name.
-The road that I traveled on yesterday had post-markings to the nearest big regional cities. I was glad to see that it said Rachidia, 300 km or 180 miles from here. That means my friends are even less than that—maybe. There is supposed to be a good music store there, so I hope to travel there before too long, maybe come back with a guitar. This morning I gave my host brother a lesson on playing the oud, he seemed to like it. But I wonder what I can do to include my host sister, that is about the same age.
As far as going to nearby places, I'll be traveling soon to Zagora, next weekend maybe, in order to pick up my two baggages that were shipped there and to get to know it.
OK, since I should move to the party now, I will copy some of my gratitude journal to this and pick a few pictures. This is the past 4 days or so.
11-11-09
last day as PCT's, tomorrow swearing in!
-spoke to my mom today on the phone, to catch up and fill her in. Bad reception though, so I will try again soon.
-sang in the talent show! Yorda was the M.C. Sam and I played simple gifts, then he did a version of eye of the tiger singing by himself, with words about morocco-hilarious- and then later we did a moroccan song. I forgot to explain to everyone that I sang Simple Gifts because it was something that we did at Swearing-In in Bolivia.... and that's why I sang it with my alpaca wool hat on my head and my Brazil belt on... symbolism. But I was trying not to forget the words, so I forgot to give any kind of background about that. But there were some other great things. Juan did karaoke to heard it through the grapevine, pete jason and danielle did a dance version without singing to THRILLER,
-the most fun part was at the end of the song with the LCF's, mbarak jumped up and danced back and forth, jumping like a rock star.... as did I. So we were rocking out on our Ouds while the 8 language teachers sang behind us. It was AWESOME, the kind of stuff you hope to be able to do when coming here.
-rachid made some great and funny videos from footage and photos that he collected. It was nice to see everything in that way and share those moments, some funny some cool, beautiful and amazing. I just wish SBD had the same thing! Even after the few days here, they still remain a mystery to me, how their CBT homestay experience was.
-azalia said she hadn't laughed that hard in a long time to me. I think we all felt the same way<
-sat with sam and fauve watching some of HE GOT GAME before the big show began, walked in to see Rachid getting ready with Yorda, who was reading a storym the conference room rearranged into a circular area as a stage, surrounded by a ring of candles sitting on the floor (during the show some people jumped up in fright as they remembered that they could go up in flames if they got too close). He told me Mbarak wanted us to practice upstairs on the terrace. So it was cool to see them arguing and giving orders to each other in the cold night on the roof in Darija, slightly nervous and unsure of their upcoming spot in the show.
-today David Lillie spoke to the whole group and it was a nice good pep talk
-funny to hear Ewald and jack joking earlier about what kind of vehicles they could use besides driving cars... hot air balloon (my idea, not motorized), gyroscope, sailing boat. Were they off limits as well?
-nice to have good memories re-enter my mind from last swearing-in, stuff I hadn't thought about in a while as I go through swearing-in again!
-glad to know that the Dr. told me that there is a direct way from my town to rachidia, I dont have to go all the way to ourzazate first
-got two nice emails from serena
-decided to go through ourzazate, spend the night there then go on the next day to corn on the kob! With william and cara, too!
-ate a lot of yummy olives... 15 of them? 20? good sandwich with cabbage reminded me so much of cole slaw sandwiches from back home.
11-14-09
saturday, first afternoon and night in Corn on the kob!
But first, marrakesh
-thursday, rabat: swearing-in, met the ambassador, he told how he met Ambassador Holbrooke, who helped the otehrs go through Ambassador training, and that 'he told us a lot of great stories about Bolivia'. I felt proud when he spoke to us during the ceremony and he referenced Obama's 'greatest memories coming from his time as a community organizer', which is what we are doing here. He also said : “I've been in a privileged position in the 6 weeks I've been here, but there's nothing except being in the presence of his Majesty the King that makes me so proud as to be here before you.” He's not the only one that Obama sent to Morocco. I've done PC twice because of Morocco, and I feel that his receipt of the Nobel Prize last month makes sense for those of us American Ex-Pat's and PCV's that are working in the Muslim world now. The one time that PC Morocco was shut down was when the Iraq war started, after all. Now things are far better.
-glad to see fatima one last time, my language teacher, but sad to say goodbye that night. I sent her several messages from the train and things, thanking her and promising to visit tinjdad!
-nice lunch on the PC property under tents
-cara won the contest for : think of an alternate use for hammam soap, 'I'd use it instead of toilet paper'. And she shared her earnings with me, a bag of snicker's bars!
-thursday night, went to the art gallery, met very charismatic 'hasher runners' that are rich and educated and beautiful— total 'BoBos', my kind of people... ?. The art was great, I got 2 pamphlets to cut out the paintings and hang them on my wall, one for me and one for other vols I know. Met the artist, too, a Moroccan man from Azila, in the North.
-came home to discover beautiful pictures of mae were published on a blog, so I downloaded them and have been showing off my niece! GORGEOUS ONES. I need to write them a letter and send mae a post card from here.
-Kob seems to have a lot of amenities, as did ourzazate. Maybe in a week I can go to zagora.
-good breakfast, sat with rachid, a little bit with juan, learned rachid will be in spain for 10 days, everything was precious and the emotions sincere. Walked up to an italian man, asking him about if he was a karate coach and if he knew Signore Gallucci, national champion 'fa molti anni'. He said no, he was from naples but that his son was world champion for his age group. I told him “Buona fortuna” but he quickly clasped my forearm, drew me close, wagged his finger and said “In boca al luppo”. Oh yes.... you're supposed to say that, it's the Italian equivalent of 'break a leg', or of not saying 'Macbeth' and instead saying 'the Scottish play'.
Then on the train to marrakesh, had a good time with anna and will on the train, hanging with cristopher and joli while they waited by the door for their stop, got pictures of that. Sat that morning with sam and yorda and got pics of them getting on the train, I had leftover penne all'arabiata that I saved from the Goethe Institute and it was extremely goood.
-marrakesh, ate with seth, penny, anna and will at the Cafe Earth, a vegan and vegetarian restaurant run solely by a young moroccan girl. Ate a delicious veggie burger—more like a glorified potato cake, no bun, full of green beans, nuts, veggies and good stuff, plus soy sauce sprinkled around the rim of the plate. Plus some apple/orange juice mix, and I tried the other things, salad with goat cheese, god I miss it already.
-sat with Penny atop the balcony for an hour or more, provoking her to talk about her experiences, thoughts about joining peace corps, ambitions for it and what she thinks she would like to do here. That is an essential thing to do, to constantly reevaluate what we are doing here and why.
-woke up, met wes, went to buy tickets with him at 7 AM. Got spots on the bus, then shared breakfast with Will, delicious bread and olive oil, butter and molasses. Discoursed on the nature of the croissant as well.
-GOOD BREAD in a little town between Mrkesh and Ourzazate. It was hobz style bread but with yeast, 1.50 D's, and worth 10x that. Would be good for an impromptu pizza.
-met a frail old berber lady with tattoos on her face who surprised me when she spoke very good french! I held her inside arm while she slid into the front seat, but she seemed lively, just frail.
-glad to be in the sahara again! After getting off the taxi, I sat around for 45 minutes until a bus came through towards Kob. And there was a young black african boy staring at me for 20 minutes of the ride, and I met a friend, the first guy I met from Kob, Jamal. He asked what I was going to do, who I knew, and when I got off the bus later, he helped call Zaid. Not even there and I have a friend to help me.
-so, the family! Zaid, Aicha, Mohammed, Ilheim, Rrislam, and Yassine (2months old! I;ve been in Morocco since before he was even born!) after meeting them, talking in french, tash, arabic, english, we watched cartoons and part of the brasil – england game. Then part of the egypt-algeria game.
Before too long, I got a tour of the BIG house, put my things in my room, unsorted it all, sat with Zaid on the roof, learning how he was in the military for 11 years, but that 'he won his liberty and left it, won the treasure of being here with his family instead of away for 5 months at a time.'
-father discoursed some on tash vs. tam, and so many things. Very interesting and lively conversation for an hour while the stars gradually came out in abundance—the sky here is exactly as good as it was in candelaria! Shocking in fact. I'd say it;'s like being in Candelaria again, but with camels. Especialy driving through the valley here, it mimicked the process of driving through the valley in the last 20 kms before getting into Candelaria.
-told Penny how it may seem frustrating that we don't have a giant packet of info, and we don't have a volunteer that we are replacing who can tell us in a day more than it will take us 3 months to find on our own. But I said that: 'when you consider that each site had a person at the beginning who was the one that spent 3 months finding out the things that are later passed on to each successive volunteer, being able to look like that at the long-term process of site development and your place in that, then you can see that we have the opportunity of being that person who prepares the way for the rest later. And that seems like a wild, great adventure!
-im not ben anymore—sometimes Benji-- but my arabic name Nabil, berber name ADI! Several times I forgot it and I sat there thinking, what is Adi? Then they say : unta adi! Then I smile and yell, OH! ANA ADI. I am Adi now! Another time this happened, each person at the dinner table (seated on the floor), said their name and last name. Zaid Daoudi, Ilheim Dauodi, Aicha Daoudi, etc. When it came to my turn, I said : Adi Daoudi. As if I was one of of the Daoudi family now... It was the first time I got a big laugh from everyone, so it helped lighten the mood and to humanize me some on my first day there.
-mohammed seems like any enthusiastic, young person that gets so excited when the conversation goes to HIS topics of choice, and his eyes light up and he is a little bit of a nerd. Just like me way back then. Eager to use that specialized vocabular for the things that he likes. Im glad that this is a family that I will grow with during my time here. And they seem to really like each other, a lot of affection.
-nice to hear Mhmed say 'bon nuit' to me while I walked up the stairs, loud enough for me to hear even though I was just beyond the door.
tomorrow, souk day! I bet it will be crazy
Friday, November 6, 2009
Clinton lauds the oldest Peace Corps volunteer, aged 85 (serving near Azilal Morocco)
(CNN) -- U.S. Secretary of State Hillary Clinton Tuesday praised as "one of the best" the oldest Peace Corps volunteer in the world, an 85-year old Florida woman serving in Morocco.
from here: http://www.cnn.com/2009/WORLD/africa/11/03/morocco.us.peace.corp.senior/index.html?eref=rss_latest
Clinton recognized Muriel Johnston during a meet-and-greet session of U.S. Embassy officials and other Americans in Marrakech, Morocco. Clinton was representing the U.S. at an international conference in Morocco, during a trip that stretched from Pakistan to the Middle East.
"I have to recognize -- I just learned about this last night -- Muriel Johnston. Muriel? Stand up, Muriel," Clinton said to applause and cheers from Johnston's fellow Peace Corps workers and other Americans.
"My young staff said, 'Oh my goodness, Muriel Johnston, she's the oldest Peace Corps volunteer in the world.' I said, 'That's not the way we think about it.' No, Muriel and I might say she is one of the best Peace Corps volunteers in the world," Clinton said to more applause, emphasizing "best."
"And it's also a great reminder that in America in the 21st century, there are not only second acts, there's third acts and fourth acts and fifth acts and -- if you're ready to embrace new challenges," Clinton said.
Later, Clinton shook hands with Johnston and asked if she was enjoying herself.
"I'm having a wonderful time, " Johnston told the secretary.
Johnston is serving as a health worker in the Moroccan province of Azilal. She hails from New York but has lived in Sebastian, Florida, since 1992. Peace Corps headquarters in Washington confirmed that she is the oldest Peace Corps volunteer currently serving.
She is one of more than 7,600 Peace Corps volunteers at work in 75 countries.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
A couple of weeks late, but no problem...
OCTOBER 13, forty-nine years ago candidate JFK gave this speech, and the students there held him to his word. A few months later the first PCVs were sent to the first PC country.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Worth seeing, doesnt seem to work to imbed the file
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XaDphm_ATP0
Placido Domingo singing Porquoi me révieller in 1982
Placido Domingo singing Porquoi me révieller in 1982
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