Taking Control

This is such an amazing journey. How many people have the opportunity, the time to be challenged, to learn, to reflect, to experiment, to stretch yourself daily. What a responsibility, what a privilege. But sometimes it's a pain in the a**.

I was in a bit of a funk the last month. My big projects wrapped up and I decided to give myself a break. The downside is that I lose my motivation when not challenged. It hits me from all sides.... Don’t feel like studying language today. Maybe I won’t work out today. Seeking out conversations to improve my language is a chore. I’ll do that internet search tomorrow. Stay cozy and warm in bed a little longer. Don’t think I’ll cook today. You know the drill. It can infiltrate your every thought and action. And the only way to change it is DIY. Do It Yourself.

I knew I needed to take action. With work. With my language. Again. And I really needed to do this before I leave for Christmas so I’m energized by what I have to come back to. Hamdullah it all came together yesterday and I’m back on track.

Sat down with Fatima and Zahra to review priorities and projects. I have plenty of ideas of what I could do, but I need to use my remaining time doing what is important to the Cooperative. We had a good discussion and agreed on what I’ll be working on: Helping them design the renovated showroom and office space that is about to start construction; Build a website for the Coop; Help them with budgeting and forecasting for financial and production planning; Start weekly business sessions with the women to expand their knowledge of the business of the Coop; Set up a diabetes screening and education program for the community. This is a good list, to which I’ll add the Craft Fairs in Marrakech and Rabat (ymkn Tanger) and the Regional Website project with Bouchra at Al Akhawayn University.

In addition, I reached out to a woman I was recently introduced to here in REK, who at one time was a language instructor for Peace Corps. Turns out that her family is from here and she’s moved back for a while. Since my current tutor, wonderful guy that he is, is distracted with personal issues, and our tutoring hasn’t been productive for a while, I need to find an alternative. Language is my Achilles heel. It is a self fulfilling prophecy. (Isn’t everything?) When I’m discouraged or not feeling confident w/my Arabic, I avoid it. And that of course doesn’t help me improve what I want most-regular, casual conversational Arabic. Thus my reaching out to another woman, right here in town, could help me with this casual language. I also made the rounds of “sympathetic interlocutors”, ie; friends who are patient w/my conversational Arabic. I'm still working on my reading and writing of Arabic to improve my pronunciation and comprehension. Side note is that I get a little thrill when I can read something in Arabic and know what it means!

Speaking of language, I’ve learned an important and timely “God phrase”. It is “Allah Yatakabal”. This is the appropriate thing to say to those who are returning from the Haj. And they are returning now. As I came into town Saturday night on the bus, there were 2 groups of people gathered to celebrate and parade with their loved ones and friends who have just completed the Haj. If you ask most people here “where would you go if you had unlimited money?” most would reply “nmshi l-Haj”. It is extremely expensive, and even if you can afford it, there is a lottery to participate, and most are never selected. Anyone who completes the pilgrimage to Mecca are bestowed the title “Haj” for the remainder of their days in honor of their devotion. I asked one of the PC staff about the appropriate greeting upon seeing someone for the first time after they return. My Ministry Delegate went this year and I need to know how to greet him when I meet with him tomorrow. Allah Yatakabal Ayichi!

Rabat

It’s been a good week here in Rabat. First time since June that all of us who went thru training together are in the same place. It’s always good to get together with other PCVs-we really understand and sympathize and appreciate what one another is going thru. However, those you’ve gone thru training with are also in the same place you are-they’re moving thru the waves of highs and lows at the same time, and we shared the first 3 months of intense training and integration-tight bonds are formed. Great to catch up with everyone.

They brought us together for Mid Service Medicals-we get full check ups once a year. Good news-medical and dental exams are done and got a clean bill of health, hamdullah.

We also had time with some folks who were sent out from Washington DC to get input on Morocco PC Medical Services-normal process after the death of a PCV. We learned a bit more about So-Youn’s situation-what they could share w/o breaching confidentiality-and had a chance to ask questions and provide feedback. I must say that there has not been a great deal of confidence in our PCMOs (Peace Corps Medical Officers) here, and this recent event has eroded it further. Mind you, it must be incredibly difficult to try to “treat” over 200 PCVs in remote towns across the country over the phone-I empathize with their challenge. However, I know a number of PCVs who have developed first-time conditions, where their symptoms are being treated, but the condition is allowed to persist w/o trying to get to the underlying disorder. Currently there is no recourse for the PCV if they feel they can’t get referral to a specialist or if the PCMO doesn’t agree w/a specialist and the condition persists. Changes must be made to restore any confidence, and we’re hopeful that they are coming.

Meanwhile, we’ve had a chance to play a bit while here in Rabat and indulge in some “fine” dining-fine being a relative term of course. We found a tapas bar that served mojitos. Wow. An Italian restaurant with cozy atmosphere, fabulous lasagna and red wine. And of course the German Institute restaurant and the American Club for good cheap beer. We were hosted for a delightful dinner of soups at the Ambassador’s house-very gracious of them, since they had 2 other engagements after we left at 8pm that night. We did a scavenger hunt and are going bowling tonight. Such a change from our day to day living in our small communities. Feel spoiled. It's also the first time we've seen any Christmas decorations-in a couple of stores, and found one box of candy canes in a hanut. Feels like a bit of “home” which everyone is missing as the holiday season is upon us. Most will be travelling home to the states for Christmas, Hamdullah.

Next it’s back to my site tomorrow for 5 days and then it’s off to the U.S. myself for Christmas with sisters Debbie and Sandy and families. Can’t wait!

Tanger

Here I am writing this from Tanger. Yes, Samira called on Tuesday from here and asked if I could make it for the weekend. Well, yeah! Besides, I want to see if it is possible to do a Marche Maroc in Tanger, and this was my excuse to come up (or Samira was my excuse to check it out). Anyway, my business plan was a bust, as the Artisanat was closed all last week for L’eid. Oh well.

So here I sit w/beautifully manicured fingers, pedicured toes and a haircut and blow-out. I was sitting in the salon chair, listening to Andre Boccelli sing “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas”, getting my hair done for the equivalent of $7. And I don’t even pay that-Samira’s paid for it before I get a chance. Samira’s friends can’t grasp why I’m living in Hermumu and why haven’t I had my hair cut in 1 ½ years. They don’t appreciate the luxury of not having to worry about how I look in Hermumu. However, I’ve also decided that suffering and denial do not legitimize the Peace Corps experience. I seem to get spoiled whenever I come to Tanger. Maybe I ought to do it more often!

Once again, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed Samira’s friends and family and her generous hospitality. This time I got to meet her other brother Hassan (Karim came in as well-both live in Spain) and one of her aunts. I was also included in the surprise birthday dinner thrown for her life-long friend Suad. It was at a beautiful villa above Tanger, overlooking the bay-private room, fires in the fireplaces, overstuffed furniture. Beautiful. Don’t click those rube slippers yet-we like Oz!

I find it a challenge to follow the conversations when I come here-Samira is always surrounded by a lot of friends and family, and the talk is a mix of Darija, French and Spanish. Most of them were schooled in private French or Spanish speaking schools here in Tanger, and French is the language of choice. It is interesting to also be working in the countryside with illiterate women in a Cooperative that has been formed to hang onto the traditional weaving patterns of their region. A country of contrasts.

We made it last night to dinner at a Chinese restaurant-there are a ton of restaurants here in Tanger-unlike the sparse selection in Fes. It reminded me of hearing about the Italian woman who loved to cook-everything looked great-but always still tasted like Italian food. The Chinese food looked like Chinese food, but still tasted Moroccan. Go figure!

I head to Rabat tomorrow by train for Mid-Service Medicals (and why does it take 5 ½ hours for what should be a 2 hour trip and where do I have to sit for a few hours along the way, and would it make more sense to just get a train there and taxi the rest of the way?), or MSM. That’s the annual medical checkups that all PCVs have every year. It will be the first time that all of us who trained together will be together since last June. I’ve seen most of them at one time or another, but not all of them. Should be fun to catch up.

I also hope to connect with the French School and the American Club Comissary to continue our discussion on potential craft fair Spring 2010. In addition, I want to meet up with Ilham to continue the dialogue on building a mentoring program with her organization of Professional Businesswomen. Inshallah to both.

Burp

Shbet, ana 3mmra, makanakulsh walu, Lay axlf! It’s not even so much that I’m full (which I am), but I just can’t eat anything else. I’ve been eating for 4 days straight....

It started w/the pre-Leid rafisa on Friday night. Yum. Saturday dawns clear and sunny with sheep and goat bleating all over town as they’re dragged out of garages, storerooms, etc., to either the lot next door, the rooftop or on the sidewalk in front of the house. Everyone slays their sheep (or goat if you cannot afford a sheep). I have the good fortune of not being in home stay this year, so get to observe from a distance. I hear my downstairs neighbor’s sheep kicking on the roof above-please hurry up. From the balcony off my kitchen, I can watch 7 families slaughter, skin and disembowel their animals-5 on their rooftops and 2 in the street below. Blood literally runs down the gutter. Animal bodies hanging from trees, rooftops, fences. Then you smell the charcoal that’s been lit to start the grilling. As last year, they start with the liver and heart, wrapped in fat. I work it so I’ve missed this part-timing is tricky.

I’ve been invited to several homes, but will go back to Fatima’s-they’re my family here. But have to wish my neighbors “mbruk l’eid” , and that gets me dragged into their apt for lamb brochette (which follows the organs). Manage to eat just one, shrb some sweet mint tea, before Fatima calls me to find out where I am and I need to come now. More lamb brochette at her house. Manage to eat just one here as well, so at least I’m not consuming the compulsory 2/home. Burp. Then we, like you on Thanksgiving, sit around with the TV on, drowsy in our food coma. I manage a bit later to drag my butt back home-need a break, and Jess is due to arrive, but only with a promise to come back later. Waxa.

Jess and I return that evening, where more of Fatima’s family has arrived and there are more brochettes. And finally the sheep’s head. Fortunately not all of Fatima’s family indulges in l-ras, so Jess and I are able to politely decline eating it as well-more for those who pull up their chairs to dig in. Bismilla.

So yesterday comes along, and now it’s time to celebrate Thanksgiving, as I’ve invited a bunch of PCVs over. We end up with 7 of us, more than enough food (although we go with roasted chicken instead of turkey-and how would you cook a turkey in these little ovens anyway I ask you?) and desserts that fill the plate more than the dinner. Just for the record, I’ve cut off the torched top and bottom of the pumpkin cake-more like bread-but it’s been salvaged and tastes great. Burp. Shbet. Sleep.

Now I have to say I’m puzzled by all the invitations to come over for lunch today-Monday. Huh? I don’t remember anything special about the 2nd day after L’eid Kbir last year, but then again, all my perceptions were colored by what my host family did. This is still a vacation day. Most everything is closed. No souk. Transit here in town instead of at the lagar for souk, which helps the PCVs get transport home this morning. Interestingly enough the busta is open-I figured gov’t offices would still be shut. No school in session. We’ve also had a major storm roll in-very strong winds and rain all night long. Feels like winter just arrived. Feels like a day to bundle under a blanket and catch up on emails, etc., maybe watch a downloaded movie. How can I avoid the lunchtime invitations that undoubtedly involve more lamb consumption?

Short answer? I don’t. On my way back into my apt after everyone’s on transport, to clean up after all the guests, my neighbor catches me. Drat. You’re coming for l-gdda, yak? Inshallah. Waxa. Five minutes later she sends her daughter up to get me. Aji daba. Come now. Meet their family visiting from Rabat and Tangier. Sit down to eat. Again. Lamb. Three ways. Baked. Tagine. On couscous. Then fruit. I can not eat any thing else. We, once again in a food coma, watch TV-don’t understand the language but can follow the story line just fine. OMG-do I smell charcoal? Holy crap. They’re about to put brochettes on the grill. I make a hasty but effusive thank you and b’slama. No more meat. Please.

So now I’m cushy under the blanket, propped up by pillows, and hoping that my internet connection comes back on. Of course, I can’t post this ‘til it does, but I think the wind is wreaking havoc on the rizzo.

Just hope the PCVs got home safe and sound and can cozy up to a movie or book as well while we ride out the first big storm of winter.

Burp. ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.

Mbruk L'eid

Smoke off the grills rising from all the rooftop decks as the heads and hooves of the sheep are first to go on the fire. Listening to the thrashing of my neighbor’s sheep on our roof as it is dying (and why does it seem to be taking so long?). Sheep were slaughtered on rooftops, the lot next door and on the sidewalk in front of homes. Everywhere. Blood running down the gutter. It must be L’eid Kbir. Not my favorite holiday, but the holiest of them all in the Muslim world. I’ll go over to Fatima’s later-no need to spend the day there-really don’t want to eat meat all day long-but need to make an appearance.

Spent time w/Fatima’s family yesterday as well. Kinda humorous, in a language sort of way. Fatima had invited me over when I saw her on Wednesday (the coop is closed Thurs til next Wed for L’eid). Told me to come over “f l eshya”. What time? Gir l eshya. Waxa. Now, my understanding of eshya is afternoon, ie; if I’m invited over Friday afternoon, that’s “couscous Friday” and it’s eaten after mosque, about 2pm. So I show up about 1:30. They’ve just finished lunch, not couscous, and not really expecting me. Huh? I give them the framed photo I had printed up for them-my favorite of Fatima, Hind, their mom and another sister. Stick around for about an hour or so, watching TV with them. Then decide to go (since I don’t understand the Fusha Arabic). Tell Fatima I’ll see her tomorrow (meaning today). She tells me I’m supposed to come "f l eshya, had lyum". I’m confused, come back? Iyeh. Shal seah? Stta ns wla sbae. OK, so in her book, eshya is also evening, and I wasn’t supposed to come until 6:30-7 (and no one ordinarily eats a meal then, thus my confusion). Waxa. I’ll return later after we laugh about my confusion.

Head home and get a chance to Skype w/Jeannie and Sharon, from Sharon’s new house in Las Vegas. Haven’t talked w/either of them since I’ve been here, so a great opportunity to catch up.

Then I decide to make up the pumpkin chocolate chip cake recipe I’ve got and bring it to Fatima’s later. Now, how exactly does one know how much pumpkin pulp you’ll get out of 3kg of pumpkin squash? No buying a can of pumpkin-it’s DIY country. So I’ve cooked down the squash, but don’t have enough for the pie I was gonna make, but have enough, along w/choc chips AND brown sugar (neither avail. in Morocco-both brought back from U.S.) to make up the cake. Hamdullah. So I get it in the oven and immediately start worrying about how long to cook, what size flame. You see, ovens here are basically metal boxes w/a butane-fueled burner and no temp gauge. I have NO idea what the temp is. Get a bit concerned that the bottom is cooking wayyyy too fast, so I get the bright idea to set it under the flame, not on the pan immediately above the flame. I think this is a brilliant idea-indirect heat, yak? Also get the inspiration to order up a digital remote oven thermometer (think barbecue therm.) on-line for future baking. I’m in the process of ordering when I smell the butane gas. Now, I’m also thinking that my butane tank is about to be empty (since it fuels both the stovetop and oven), so have been watching and smelling for signs of no gas-is that what I’m smelling? I go check it out. OMG!!!! The cake has caught fire and is flaming like crazy. I think fast enough to turn off the gas, blow out the flames and open the door to the balcony-conveniently located right next to the oven-and put the damn cake outside. Crap. Now I’ve wasted precious pumpkin pulp, choc chips AND brown sugar. It’s a miserable trifecta. And furthermore, no cake to bring to Fatima’s. Bummer.

Anyway, I did go back to their house, we had rafisa (traditional yummy tagine), watch TV, talk and Mohammed walks me home in the fog. I did tell them about the cake and they had a good laugh.

Slept in a bit this morning, did my riada (pilates), cleaned house for everyone coming over tomorrow, and need to clean up and go over to their house again for a bit. Jess will be coming in later today-will be good to catch up with her-haven’t seen much of her since MarcheMaroc’s been history.

Mbruk L’eid.

Holiday Stuffing

Yes, Thanksgiving is upon you. The turkey and you will soon be stuffed. Tbarklikum!

It will be a similar situation here in Morocco on Saturday-the official L’eid Kbir holiday. The sheep (or goat if you can’t afford the former) will be slaughtered, beheaded, skinned and gutted. All will be grilled. More sheep, skewers, charcoal and grills being sold this week than all year long. You can feel the coming of a holiday in the air. Schools will be closed, business will shut, the coop is off for the next week. Mbruk L’eid.

This must be the explanation for all the transit troubles of the last couple of days. Everyone in Morocco is travelling to get home for L’eid. Think Thanksgiving travel in the states, but all is done on the roads in public transit. Fortunately the transit guys know me and I get space-even if it’s squished SRO, it’s still transit. Even the gendarmes look the other way as the way-over-full transits drive by. Hamdullah.

So the last ride of the day today drops me early-no problem-it’s beautiful out, feels festive, the walk will do me good. A guy I recognize greets me w/a big smile and a handshake. Salam Alekum. He then pulls my hand down to his crotch. HSHUMA LIK! WTF? Why can’t we just greet one another? Why are you spoiling this beautiful day??? I’ve met so many people here in REK, don’t remember where I’ve met each one of them, and out of habit, always greet those who are familiar to me. Unfortunately he’s added to the list of several men I avoid due to their inappropriate comments, questions, gestures, touching, etc. Oh well, moving on. Got home and did my Pilates and cooked a healthy dinner. Feeling good about oneself is the best revenge.

Had a productive meeting yesterday at Al Akhawayn University in Ifrane. Went to give Bouchra and Intissar their certificates for running the workshops at Marche Maroc. (Nothing, I mean Nothing is valued more than a certificate, stamped and signed, with your name on it in Morocco.) I also have collected feedback from the artisans and wanted to share this with them. Bouchra then informed me that she’s working part time next semester so she has time to pursue the Middle Atlas Artisan Website she’s wanted to develop. She, Amy and I had a good discussion. There’s also potential to include Ilham’s mentoring with AFEM into this initiative. We need to discuss further, but I’m excited about the potential this offers-aka the Free Trade Egypt site (www.fairtradeegypt.org), and look forward to working on this with them.

Got great news from friend Lynn L., Skyped with Deb/Phil/Philip yesterday, weather promises to stay clear and dry, sporting a new sweatshirt, internet up and running and the Thanksgiving menu is coming together for Sunday. Many sweet and silly Thanksgiving email circulated from and to friends. Much to be thankful for. Have a safe and fun holiday with family and friends.

Rollercoaster Ride

Just back from Rabat and the memorial service for So-Youn. Peace Corps did the right thing and removed all barriers to make it as easy as possible for everyone to come together to pay our respects and tribute to So-Youn’s all-too-brief life. I don’t know how many were there, but between PCVs from all sectors and all over the country, staff, Embassy personnel and the Ambassador, it was SRO. It was the least we could do for her family to demonstrate how much she mattered. David Lillie, Country Director, was not with us, as he flew out on Friday to accompany So-Youn’s body to Korea, where her family is from and where she will be buried. May she rest in peace.

It’s been quite a rollercoaster of emotions. A week ago, approx 50 new PCVs were sworn in. We lost So-Young on Monday. On Friday Peace Corps Morocco said good-bye to approx 50 PCVs who completed their service that day. Yesterday the Morocco PC family was together. Today we are dispersed again around the country.

We did get word from one of our PCMO’s (that’s a PC Medical Officer), reminding all that due to confidentiality, they cannot disclose the cause of death, but that it was unique to So-Youn and not a community health issue. I fear it may have been related to an elective procedure she had just over a month ago and may have been preventable. Needless to say, it has left a lot of PCVs (and their families) shaken up. Need to support one another-now as always.

No surprise then that David cancelled his trip to REK last week. He had scheduled to come out for a less-than-24hour visit. It was to have been well timed to coordinate with an REK “end of year” celebration-lots of kids singing, dancing, certificates to all the associations. I was surprised to be called up on stage and presented with a certificate and gift from REK for my work this past year. It was really sweet. Adwal also had set up tables with product and sold a few things. I took Pete, the new PCV with us, and glad I did so, as it was a great opportunity for him to meet a lot of the town officials and leaders.

Meanwhile, life continues on……
Thanksgiving will be different than originally planned. Kristen and her site mate were going to host about 10 of us this weekend-had bought 2 turkeys in anticipation of the feast. Obviously that was cancelled as we all went to Rabat instead. I still have plans to have about 8 PCVs from around here in REK together a week from today for Thanksgiving. Now if only I could find sage for the dressing. I bought what I was told was “simta” in souk last week, but I doesn’t smell like any sage I’ve ever had, but I've now scoured REK, Sefrou and Rabat, and it’s my only option. Marian says she’s gonna bake-which is great, since that’s not my forte. She and Jess will probably come in a day early to help get started on the cooking. It will be good to get this “region’s” group of PCVs together to brainstorm, etc. as well.

Lots of sheep travelling today-on the road, on top of the nqls (transit vans)-Leid Kbir is either Friday or Saturday-holiest holiday of the year-celebrates the culmination of the annual haj to Mecca. (Islamic calendar is lunar, so don't know actual day of a holiday until new moon is actually visible-it it's overcast, holiday is the following day). All families sacrifice either a sheep or goat that day. All the hanuts have specials on grills and it’s the only time all year I’ve seen charcoal for sale (it’s the only time people grill-they don’t grill in the summer). I’m hoping to plan my Leid Kbir socializing to miss the slaughter and the consumption of the intestine/stomach/lungs and head. Not as hard as it seems, since there is a ritual order to how the animal is consumed. Heart and liver are early-covered in fat and grilled-it’s the best of the day. I’ll just be busy the rest of the day. Can’t take all the meat and parts and pieces all day (make that all week) long.

Good news for Adwal-the grant request I submitted to Kantara Crafts has come through. It’s a modest amount of money, but a terrific effort on the part of Alia Kate, owner of Kantara Crafts. She imports artisanal products from Morocco and has started up an education fund to give back to the communities she buys from. I first met her last year when I was in training in Ain Leuh. She was on a buying trip at the time (since Ain Leuh’s products are some of the best in the country). I connected with her again via email to try to interest her in coming to visit Taeawniya Adwal on her trip to Morocco last spring, but she didn’t have time to come up this way. She instead sent me the email for another company that was looking to work with new cooperatives in Morocco. This connection led to WaresDinner and Adwal’s first export business to the US. Anyway, Alia is funding 2 women from Adwal to take computer classes, 4 hours/week for 4 months. This is part of the sustainability process for my work. Since so much of what I do for them involves the computer, and none of the Adwal women know how to use one, it was imperative that we get someone trained up. Hamdullah, Kantara Crafts and Alia is making this happen. Check out www.kantaracrafts.com.

Speaking of websites and internet, the WaresDinner website has been updated and their Morocco package is now for sale, including the Taeawniya Adwal table runners. Check it out also, as the site includes a photo of the women and some background on their weaving. www.waresdinner.com.

And last but not least, one week ago Zahra and Fatima were in Fez, where they met the King and received a large unspecified grant from him. It was televised and I watched it on one of the trainee’s cell phones where she had taped it. Next step is to decide how they will use these funds. Hamdullah, this is a nice problem for them to wrestle with.