Apologies

I have a hard time with apologies. Well once when I was 10 and playing tennis with my uncle Chaz on the beach I apologies each time I dropped the ball which meant every time it came my way that he told me if I said sorry one more time he would bop me over the head with the racket. Obviously he served the ball I dropped it, said sorry, he bopped my head, we went and got ice cream.

Ok ok enough cute stories. I was reading this article in The Economist September 2012 issue called Morsi's Moment. The subtitle: Egypt's leader should define the Muslim mainstream and speak out against extremists. The main sentence that struck me was: "First, it has made many Westerners, especially Americans, wonder why they and their government should seek to play a constructive role in those parts of the world where people apparently harbor such visceral feelings of hatred towards them."

This article goes one to talk about extremist and Egypt two things I know nothing about first hand. As a volunteer in Morocco I have come across this topic of what are you doing in a place where no one wants you. I have gotten quite a bit of harassment in my site due to the movie made by an American and comic made by a French person insulting the profit Muhammad. I have not gotten a chance to see either of them (nor do I really want to) but when the first time you hear about it is because some guys are chasing you and throwing rocks at you calling you what would basically translate to stupid pile of French s***. You figure out someone did something insulting.

The article come really close to asking for an apology about the harassment that people get, but then goes on to discus "Western respect for free speech" as to why there are no apologies for the comic or movie. In my opinion the requests are being made to the wrong people. I don't what the government to apologize for the fact that I am scared to leave my house they asked me and 120 other people to come. I want the dudes who throw things at me to understand that I have nothing to do with this. The same way I don't lump the people in my town as extremists they should understand that I have nothing to do with the comic or the movie.

It has come to a point where I am scared and concerned about where I am living. When it was explained to me that I have done my days work when someone says "You can't be an American your to nice" or "What your not Muslim but your not a horrible person" I have done my days work I became hesitant and still am. Reading this article made me realize how important that is. The concept of us not playing a role or being around makes me fear that we are going to put an even greater distance between us. I may not be the person for the job, and we may need to rethink the way we interact with each other. The concept of just not talking because we disagree is for a lack of better words stupid. We all need to go get some ice cream and figure this out. The extremist may reside in these countries but not everyone there thinks that way. Not everyone in the town I live in throws rocks at me, some of them teach me script and make me couscous.

Why when we are scared or angry do we lump people together? Why do we ask for apologies? How does that help find a solution? Where is the ice cream?

Flipping Coins

I have never been good at decision making. The fear is in messing things up so bad that it would be "the end". This of course makes no sense. What ever decisions one makes will of course have an impact on there lives, but very little is permanent. One of the big choice I had was what college to go to. I got excepted into the three I applied to. One was already out in my mind so I was stuck between the last two. After hours of conversations, pro and con lists, racking my brain on the right thing to do I did the most logical thing. Flipped a coin.

The next couple of days I was miserable. If my emotions were so obvious now why was I not able to see what the right thing to do was before. I still don't have an answer. I ended up switching and was excited for the start of college. Something about no longer being in limbo and making a choice let me see what I truly wanted. I loved college, it had its ups and downs but I was so grateful for the experience (and the education).

I am now back at that point. A limbo of trying to figure out the right thing to do. My coin flip has lead to little success and I am still in limbo, which is a very uncomfortable place. This time others are involved in the lightest of ways and a much bigger move is going to be made. The question is who do I aim to please in the end. As for now each day will bring more information and hopefully a correct decision.  

Ah France!

I was lucky enough this last week to take a week off and go to France. Why you may ask, well the one and only most important thing in the world: family. My wonderful uncle turned 70, Jack the newest addition to the McEwan clan got baptized, and so many McEwan's in one place.

For me France is this great place from my youth. I was lucky enough to grow up there in this small town called Cognac and all of my cousins at one point lived in Paris so I got to go visit the city a lot. It was a place of running around in parks as small kids and a great place to be a crazy teen.

Going back on the other hand was kind of odd. I was not expecting to remember how to make my way around, yet I new the place like the back of my hand ( hey look some new freckles ). Jack being born really showed how much all of us cousins had grown. The Powers, our best friends, came out for a couple of days as well. On our way back to our places after a long night of great food, friends, and conversation Ben said " I would have never believed you if 10 years a ago you would have told me I would be walking the streets of Paris with Ian and Jenna.

No more Power Rangers, Ninja Turtles, or game of tag. Hot chocolate has turned into expresso, pizza to foie gras, " Ian hit me" to random friendly debates. Jack is now the baby of the family, Tom only 70 years young, everyone on new sides of the planet. Yet here we are Paris once more.

Some things never change just like when I was little and dad would put us on our planes to where ever it was we were getting sent to I was impossible not to cry. As I sat in the airport waiting for my plane all I could think of was how blessed I am so have so many wonderful people and places in my life.

Group Think

The concept of group think has been on my mind lately in both positive and negative ways. The definition of Group Think according to dictionary.com is "the lack of individual creativity, or of a sense of personal responsibility, that is sometimes characteristic of group interactions." The positive being how when I surround myself with people that I love, respect, and have an open mind set. The negative, being around people that don't allow anything but the "one and only" way to think; or just being around people that are constantly negative because your thoughts will turn that way.

"There is no one right way to live." My mother always tells me and the same goes with thought, though the two tend to go together. For most of my life the best way to learn was a sharing of knowledge. To discuss, ask, ponder, and try to understand. No one ever has to agree but you always allow for diverse opinions. So the question now becomes: how do you discuss or question in a culture were there is "one right way", and things are getting to a point where you are not allowed to discuss? Allowing the next generation to only interact with one type of group think is detrimental to the progression of the world culture.

Bhutan is one of my current favorite example of a country so inthralled with its past culture but is now opening the door to others. Social media outlets have allowed communication to help change the course of government in places like Egypt. No all people want to change which is great, if it ain't broke don't fix it. The concept of not allowing those around you to do as they please, or give them the opportunity to explore is baffling. In my book we should all get a Rumspringa of sorts.

So this has led me to ask:
Why don't people want a Rumspringa (for lack of a better term)?
Why do people force a type of groupthink on those who don't know any better?
Why do people hide others from a potential exploration of the world around them?

Learning Curve.

I guess one never stops learning. Obviously that is something we are all told: "Even once you leave school you will continue to learn." There was always this feeling that there was always going to be a level of people that know more or better. Someone to be able to tell me the next step or what the right thing is to do. "Go to school, get a job, do this, do that." At some moments these statements seam annoying or demeaning, but in the end it gave you a path to follow. Much like a rainy day hike that path is now washed out. People are people and humans make mistakes. No one person know everything (except dear old dad of course (always listen to your parents kids)). Doctors have a skill set that most people don't, and so do zoo keepers. Your boss will most likely know more than you do or have more experience in that particular field, but in the end only you really knows what is going on. Take all the advice you can get and learn from those around you, but don't kid yourself on the reality you are currently living.

Toubkal

Toubkal was an amazing experience. One of those good and bad, scratch that horrible, experiences. Toubkal is one of the highest mountains in North Africa. Day one is a6 hour hike and day two is 9. A couple of my friends hiked it before IST a Peace Corps training we had in Marrakech and had a wonderful time. My friend T told me that he and some of his friends were going and I was of course invited. I am about 7 hours from Marrakech and Toubkal is about 3 hours south of that so for all I new this was going to be one of my only chances so I jumped.

N was nice enough to let us leave our stuff at her place and than we made our way out. We stayed at a really nice hostel and made plans to start the next day. Unfortunately, not only did it rain all night long T woke up with some horrible stomach pain. He headed back to N's and the rest of us headed up the mountain in the rain. Due to the fact I am scared to leave my house due to harassment I have become quite unfit so this hike up was really hard. About a quarter of the way up we ran into another girl from PC E and her friend from the States W, and they were cool enough to let me walk with them as the rest of the group I had come with went ahead.

We finally made it to the refuge about an hour after the others; drenched from the walk in the rain and freezing cold I has sad to find that all of the contents from my pack were wet as well. The night was miserable. The next morning I heard everyone else get up and say that they were going to head up the hill. I not feeling so good rolled over to wake up an hour later and find them all gone.

I checked out and found that the path going up was washed out so I made my way down. Most of the time you are to stick to the donkey path, but because of the rain it was underwater. Somehow I ended up on the goat path at the top of the hills. One of the herders found this to be funny and made his friends with a donkey give me a ride to the right path. I than found myself one bend away from a guy who I though I lost to find he had just climbed a bolder for lunch. George a 56 year old German guy invited me to share his lunch, which was great because the group I had been with took all the food. We chatted for some time until I started back down the hill and he stayed on the bolder for a nap. I finally got back to the town below, stopped for hot chocolate and than made my way back to Tahanaoute to spend the night with T & N. We watched tv, had pancakes, and hot chocolate.

I have to admit the hike was a real bummer until I figured what I needed to do to make myself better and safe. This time things luckily fell into place. Toubkal really ended up being one big metaphor for my Peace Corps experience. I now know who will be there for me and that they will always be there. Now I just need to figure out what is best and safe for me and if the top of the mountain is worth reaching. For now I am just going to enjoy the waterfalls on this epic hike.

Weddings

I have not been to many weddings in my life, but Moroccan ones are something else.  The first wedding I ever went to was for a third cousin I was so young the only thing I cared about was running around with my little cousin Emma and not being the next one to be tagged. The next wedding I went to was for my cousin Louisa and well it as a party from landing France till we left, it was really an amazing time.

Weddings here in Morocco have no ceremony it is all just one big event. Women get dressed up in the dresses called Caftans and the men were everything from suits to jeans. The bride wares as many different dresses as she can during the event to show of wealth. These dresses are bright and bedazzled, but what confuses me most is that most of the time they are made out of really cheap material and generally not really pretty.

The first Moroccan wedding I went to was in Fez and it was horrible. My friend N came along for this crazy night. We went over to her host families house around three o’clock the caftan I got made me look like a leprechaun and N was a great looking red flying carpet, and I have never worn that much makeup in my life as her host sister Z put on us. The wedding started at 5 and went until 4:30 the next morning. I have never seen people look so unhappy as the couple that was getting married. This was the first wedding I ever cried at, and not because I was happy. I was so over stressed from CBT, a heat stroke was coming on, and when I asked to go out and get some air the ball of horrible that was my host mom started to yell at me. Basically it was a night of horrible dresses, unhappy people, and getting yelled at for no reason.

The second wedding was a lot better. It was here in Oued Zem. It lasted just as long but I had a nice time chatting with people, and there was some lovely food. The dresses were just as bad, but the people were nice. One of the things that I found odd was that men and women were separated. It was one big venue but all the women were to sit on the left and all the men on the right, and they were separated by some odd looking decorations.

Today I got to go to another wedding in Jamaa it is a really rural area, and the wedding was really traditional.  This family was really wonderful; they are the most welcoming people and have a lovely farm. The mother of the family officially adopted me when she yelled for one of the kids to get some water. I was the first one at the well. Everyone was shocked that I could work it, never thought anyone would think it as complicated. Once I got the water from the well I got to go with uncle to get honey from the beehives and then put bread in the clay stoves outside.  Once the family decided I earned my keep off to the wedding we went. Their front yard had two tents the tent for the men and the family tent.

The bride had 4 dresses the first one white, second red and yellow, third orange, forth blue. The colors were a little bright but they were all well made. I got the chance to peak into the guys tent all the men sat around the outside with tables set up with tea, there was a band and three women in black caftans and sparkly scarf’s wrapped around their waist. The family tent was much more fun, the bride and groom walked in and out with their many different outfits. Four guys preformed traditional dances and lifted the bride and groom in the air.  Family and friends sat round the outside of the tent as everyone danced in the middle. All around it was a fun and exhausting time and it was from 3 in the afternoon to 6:30 at night.

I still don’t understand quite how this is a wedding because the couple are never declared as married. The whole event is outrageous and makes no sense (much like a marriage). Anyway I don’t understand any of the traditions I have come across in Morocco and weddings can go right to the top of the list.