The Devil You Know.

Peace Corps keeps telling us what an amazing experience we are all in for. How we will have completely different experiences from one another, and how nobody will share the same experience. This theory of course can be used in any aspect of life. Even if the person is standing right next to you, they will experience the event in a different way and come away with a different perspective.  With life here I can’t think of a better way to explain it.

Each day a new friend tells me how they feel like an anxety teen. “I can’t really complain because I heard insert someone else’s horrible story here. No one likes to complain especially when a generalized concept of what we are here to do is help others that are worst off then us. Though with even the simplest task here being difficult it is made even harder when a person who has no right to yell at you (and no reason) does so.  This is of course my complaint and others here have their own. No matter how little they even is it still packs a major punch.

After not being able to shower for an extended period of time or needing to use a sock as a washcloth, or even not being able to communicate that you want to help in the kitchen and it is not Hshuma (Shameful). Each little event takes its toll. Of course the Peace Corps is there for when things get to tough and offer you help in the ways that they can, but not even including language it is hard to culturally get your point across things just don’t translate.

A simple “sharable” example is language. For quite some time I was able to make it through life without the ability to read. Now reading is one of my favorite extra-curricular activities. Though it is still quite difficult with my dyslexia I have grown to have the ability to read and write and get by (let this also be a warning for those of you who read this spelling is still not my forte). When I took on the challenge of moving to Morocco I came in know that my focus would be on speaking and not on reading or writing. Getting by for the next two years and being illiterate would be the easiest thing for me to do being able to communicate with the people around me for now is the most important.

For the last month and a bit we have been working on speaking the language. Peace Corps has come up with phonetic spelling for us to be able to read and write to learn how to speak, but of course people here have no idea what any of it mean.  Shwiya b shwiya (little by little) the language gets better. On a rainy day when we were unable to go out on one of our community walks we began learning script. As of now the only word I can write is sun or ṧms but it was amazing at how easily it came. Obviously this is me we are talking about I am still last in my class when it comes to just about everything, but my courage double as I was able to work through this task with ease.

The Devil you know may just be the devil you want to face. You don’t know if what’s behind door number two is, it may be better or worse, and of course there is a 10% chance it will be worse. Picking your battles is inevitable. Once you go through something try to step back and realize the new skills you have acquired through this hardship and you many not want to avoid this challenge the next time. Take the bull by the horns and with your friends by your side and your trusty stead you can make it through.  Even if it takes and advent calendar made by your friend counting down the days until you get to move out to your final site.

                                                  Working with Kid

                                     Friends By Your Side in Font of Our Dar Chabab

                       Getting Through Everything Even the Mud in Moulay Yacoub

The plane landed as the sun rose in Casablanca. Once could not ask for a better entry into a country. The security officer met us in the airport and helped all 120 something volunteers make it through customs. We all piled onto busses and began the trek to Rabat. Everyone was full of laughter, enjoyment at the amount of camels, horse, and other animals we were able to see right out of airport gate, and jetlag from the trip. We all made it to our rooms and my new friends and I meet up in the lobby of the hotel for our first walk in Morocco on our own. This was unexciting, and uneventful but wonderful.

My friends here have some of the sharpest minds, they are brilliant and have amazing pasts, wonderful ideas, and theories of the world. I could sit and listen to for hours. I don’t think I have ever met such a wonderful open minded group of people. Debates cover all subjects and never seem to run dry. One of the things I am most impresses about with my new Peace Corps friends is just how respectful they are (please not this does not cover all of the people I have meet just my group of friend, many a harsh argument has occurred.)

We spent a week in Rabat beginning language classes and listening to endless lectures that will hopefully give us valuable information for the rest of our stay here in Morocco. Within this week of lectures we were given a day off where my friends and I went off to do crazy touristy things. Back in the States my dad would call this day a culture day, where we go off and get culture and learn all sorts of new things. With this group though and getting some culture was more fun than one could ask for. Each moment here is filled with culture and it is hard to get a break. It is amazing at how fast we have all bonded though, when put in a situation like this one it is to be expected.

Unfortunately, we were split into three groups and then into even smaller groups to be sent off. Three Hubs of immouzer, Azrou, and Fes were sent off on buses. I ended up in Fez where I am currently living. Our little group is in Ain Amir. We live with host families, and meet at the Dar Chabab every day for language classes. Last week we got to partake in our first spring camp which was not what I had hoped, but is what is was and a good experience. Derija is one of the most difficult language I could have been asked to learn, and I am so happy I have a little French. My host family is crazy, and some of the stories I can’t post online. In the morning we share stories of what has happened to us and the others in my group always end my stories by asking me if the Peace Corps. actually screens the families they place us with. My Culture and Language Facilitator is of course happy to help, and loves to remind me that I will end up meeting lots of people like this in Morocco. I do my best to take everything with a grain of salt, but things sometimes get to overwhelming.

Once more I was given a few days off. A group of friends came to Fes and the hardest part was not being able to run up to them and give them hugs for it is just not culturally acceptable.  It is amazing how not being able to hug someone can make things just a little tougher to take. The next weekend I headed to Mulay Acupe for a hike in the rain. I was sad that two of my other friends ended up choosing to head with another group. One friend expressed  “I am addicted to our group”. We have all shared our concerned about the fact that we fear we are all being to clinging but in a way it is just the best support system we could have. The days we get to get together help with any extra stress we can hold. The amount of friends I have woken up to talk to in the middle of the night, but because they needed to talk can’t be count. Everyone put on a brave face and we do our best to make it.

Crazy stories are abundant, but not really post-able. The hard days are more difficult and one could imagine and the happy moment hardly makeup for them. As they say this is the toughest job we will ever love. One here is happiest in this cold country when the sun finally shines and you can sit outside with your friends, and understand a conversation, it may be in French, English, or Derija. Hopefully our stay here will soon be productive.

It was a cold Wednesday in December, Centenary College Equestrian Center was covered in snow. As the text message went out that classes we canceled for the rest of the day I ran to ask the van that headed back and forth to campus if it would wait as I went to drop of my schedule with my advisor for the next semester. As I gracelessly made my way to the offices Tim Cleary (my wonderful advisor) was headed out the door. “Actually we need to meet up and talk about your schedule.”

Nothing sucks more that not getting the classes you want. Students spend quite some time coming up with 5 classes that a line in a way that you can make it to each class, be able to eat (not that eating is something that I of all people need to do, but it is my favorite thing to do), and for Equine Studies students it is even more difficult because we have a twenty minute drive to another campus, along with animals that don’t care what your schedule is that require attention.

The next week I found myself in the Crow’s Nest (Equine Studies Professors Offices) next to Tim’s desk waiting news that the only classes I would be able to take this semester were the insipidly bland ones. “You can graduate.”

I stared at him

“At the end of this coming  semester you can graduate”

After 20 minutes I walked out of the offices with the most amazing class list anyone could ask for. Photojournalism with Lev, Honors Thesis with Cleary/Elsaser, Management of Equestrian Activities with Cleary, Novice Hunt Seat with Hustis,  Equine Nutrition (blah), and Middle East Peace Conference with Fitzpatrick (AMAZING Prof). Now what?!?! I found myself going straight (or as straight as one can go coming down Kings Highway) to the DSO (Disability Service Office). The DSO is amazing and every school should have one as well as every student be able to use it if they want. Tara was sitting behind her desk and new right away that something was up. After some discussion with many of the wonderful people in the office it was decided that I would come up with something wonderful to do with my major, minor, and concentration, not only for my life, but my thesis as well. I signed my declaration papers and went to hunt down Maureen Fallon (the main reason I made it through college) and filled her in.

Winter brake was spent doing some soul searching and taking to many of the wonderful people in my life about how they got to where they were, and before I knew it I was sitting front of an Air Force Recruitment Officer. Long story short dyslexics can’t fly fighter jets, and the other deal I was offered did not sound like a lot of fun, so I went in search of other options. A couple month later I was on Skype with my uncle Tom, then in the Peace Corps Office for my interview (then getting asked by my dad why I never told him any of this), getting an invitation to leave for the Ukraine, righting  a horrible 32 page thesis creating an Equine Non-profit in the Ukraine, and graduating from Centenary College with a Bachelor of Science in Equine Studies, a concentration in Communications, and a minor in Political and Governmental Affairs. Honors from Delta Apha Pi Honor Society, Centenary College Honors Program, and cords from Theta Epsilon Nu Sorority (take that people who think people with dyslexia are less than. With my diploma in hand I was ready for this grand adventure, only to be told that my grades never went through and I won’t be making the trip to the Ukraine. 

I spent some time in Pennsylvania horse showing for Royal Rock Equestrian Center, for I made my way to Arizona to work as a hunter stable. This was the worst job I will probably ever have; every single person I met was wonderful with the exception of my boss. Though she was not always around her disrespectful and brazen manner was enough to put me in the hospital. My wonderful brother Ian helped me pick up the pieces when I got a letter stating that I would be leaving for Kazakhstan with the Peace Corps. Of course the world exploded (my staging offices words not mine) and stated that once more I would not be going to my assigned location.  This led me to call my uncle Chaz and aunt Elaine who were nice enough to let me live with them. Of course when in California one must go visit the wonderful people and horses of Mill Creek Equestrian Center (my favorite place in the world, sorry Cognac, France and Moray, Peru, Mill Creek will always win). A hug and greeting with the wonderful Cory, and I had found myself a new Job.

I can’t stress just how wonderful Mill Creek was. It was just the best job I had ever held. The work was fun the people were amazing, being that consistently happy in a job is had to come by. Living with my Aunt and Uncle was just so much fun, my friends Lexi, Janey, and Katy, made my weekends wonderful, and every person I worked with as fun.  Unfortunately, not to long after being there Morocco came a calling. Peace Corps Volunteer Youth Development in Morocco, even with having finally found happiness this was a hard opportunity to turn down. I gave Cory my notice, sold the car, and headed to Dallas Pennsylvania for one last family get together. My brother Ian and my dad both made the trek to come visit before I took off.

With long goodbyes I hoped on the plane to Philadelphia for pre-service training.  In the airport was the first place I actually met two people which was fun, and after that the day was spent in lectures and going out for one final meal with Pork and Beer since for the next two years of our live these things would be absent.

The Adventure had begun, the people were amazing, and there was official no time to breath. We were off and though nothing was happening everything was changing. 

                                          Winter at Centenary College

                                          Peace Corps friends last night in the States

                                                    Graduation Dr. Fitzpatrick

                                     Mill Creek Equestrian Center = Amazing