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. 

Rain and Covering Up

            I got really lucky with my Peace Corps placement when it comes to dress code. Yes, I still have to ware way more clothing than I would like in this 120-degree weather, but I can ware short sleeves and don’t have to ware a hijab. This was something I was willing to do when asked in my interview back in NYC, but being here of course changes everything. Every little piece of over confidence goes away once you get here and have that first stone throne at you just for being well you. I have so many friends that did not get quite as lucky when it comes to the dress code in their sites.

            Today it rained for the first time in my site. Of course this was right after I did laundry.  After pulling in all of my clothing from the rain J and I walked to the Dar Chabab. Just because it is raining does not mean that it cools the town down unfortunately, but it was nice to walk in this light drizzle. One the way home it was raining just slightly harder. J and I parted ways because I needed to run to the hanut and pick up some milk. As I was saying goodbye to everyone at the hanut, which can sometimes take forever, it started to rain harder. Nothing that would ever keep me from walking the two blocks home.  As I prepared for the short sprint I began felling the eyes of the little old ladies behind me. This was when I realized that they were waiting to see if the scarf around my neck would make its way over my head before I took a step out into the rain.

            Granny always told me to put a sweater on because she was cold. This is no different than not going out with wet hair in the winter, but sometimes here in Morocco the little things like that go a little to far. “You can’t sit where there is a breeze because the cold will hit you and seal your health. You can sit on the floor because you will never be able to have babies”, and I guess you can add this to the list. Even though it is 120 degrees outside, don’t step out in the rain without your head covered.

            I don’t know why it bothered me this time. I guess it was because even after the conversation I just had with these women their entire perception of me would be altered by me taking one step out from under the awning.

As my covered little head made its way home I began to ponder about how funny it is that rain can make you home sick. Actually anybody from South Carolina would laugh at this being called rain. It is the lightest drizzle, but it come with some thunder, no lightning, but for the last week you can smell the rain everyday from 4:30-6. It is generally insignificant but still enough to make me homesick. 

Participation

As Peace Corps volunteers our job is to integrate into these communities that we are placed in. This means we basically befriend everyone and participate in community events. As you know, Morocco, were I am placed is a Muslim country. This means religion seeps into everything, and religious holidays are the biggest events. Right now we are beginning Ramadan. This is 29 to 30 days of fasting according to the lunar cycle. Fasting, prayer, and charity are all big parts of this holiday. It is so cool to be placed in a location that is so different from anything else I have experienced. I am exited to learn all about the culture and religion and hope to participate in anyway I can. When it comes to religion it becomes a little tricky. Yes people try to convert me all the time and it can be a good way to learn more, but let's just say I am a long way from converting to any form of religion. I would however love to participate in any of the events they have. I have learned how to put on a hijab which is great for when my hair is wet and probably even better for when winter gets here. I have learned how to pray from my super cool host mom. Picked up a bunch of god phrases that are used in typical conversation, and I just know that there is going to be so many more events. Now though is Ramadan. Ramadan is intense everyone's daily schedule changes. People stop eating and drinking water and pray many more times a day. We are of course not expected to participate in anything we don't want to and when it comes to religious events this can get even more of a touchy subject. Volunteers are so exited to participate in anyway they can and this is the same when it comes to fasting. Ramadan is such an important holiday and the question that is asked the most not only by host country national but also by other volunteers is are you going to participate in Ramadan? For he longest time my answer was "I am going to try." Now that Ramadan is here my answer is "no". For me at this point in time for both my emotional and physical health fasting is not the best idea. My local hanut guy laughs at me as I guiltily go by eggs from him, and my fellow PCV's boo and ask me why. "It's 120 degrees outside and you think I should go all day with out drinking water?" Ok so that's no all there is to it but still. It's hot and I love water! Anyway I feel guilty that I am not participating in this one, but for me it's just not reasonable. I spent summers living with my mom and we finally figured out that when we both started acting a little snippy that it was dinner time and lots of arguments were settled by one of us saying "go eat something and then we will finish this argument". Anyway I am still expected to do my community integration and teach English and sports. Learning to live in another country is still taking its tole and everyone around me is still questioning if I will make it. I even have a small group of people that are rutting against me. That's beside the point. The Point. I want to participate. I want to learn. I even one day want to be able to day that I have participate and live through Ramadan, but I also want to do it right. I want my two years here to be a success. I want my two years of Peace Corps. It's tough to see my rock star friends fast and be able to walk out of the house and just mold into Morocco like they are part of the crowd. One day, enshaallah, I will have that too. As for right now fasting is not in the picture. I don't cook during the day, I don't eat or drink in public, and I admire those that are fasting. My goal for Ramadan is to finish the Quran, but there will be a water bottle at my side. Maybe next year with more understanding and a healthier happier outlook I will fast with my neighbors. For now I am going to read this book, thank whatever higher power gave me this glass of water, and listen to the beautiful call to prayer.

Religious holidays.

Today I woke up wondering if I would be allowed to have a cup of coffee or if I would go to hell for it. This is of course like most of my blogs and most of my first thoughts in the morning before my first cup of coffee a gross exaggeration. Ramadan in most of the world started today. Morocco of course wanted one more day of couscous before, so it won't start till tomorrow. Just kidding. I have only had one sip of coffee it will take a minute to kick in. Morocco goes back to old time for Ramadan so it's actually 6 in the morning not 7, and with just one sip of coffee in my I figure what is a better time than now to chat about the one topic we are not suppose to talk about! No not money, not politics, but don't worry we will get there soon, but this morning on the eve of one of the biggest holidays I figure we should talk religion. I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT THIS TOPIC. YOU GIANT SQUIDS OF ANGER ON THE INTERWEBS DON'T READ INTO THIS IN ANY WAY PLEASE.! These are just my little lonely thoughts that will hopefully turn into something. When it comes to religion I am pretty uneducated. This seams like a silly statement seeing as I went to a Catholic school, was baptized Presbyterian, grew up praying in some form or another before eating or going to bed, and Christmas was always quite the event in my family. I have gone to church, youth group, and synagogue with my friends. I make the cross anytime a plane takes off and say bismila when I get in a car. Some form of a higher power however he/she/it maybe understood has been something I cross my fingers for, yet with all of this religion has always eluded me. Religion has always been something I was not really willing to go near. To me it was just something for people to argued over. In my life time I watched people as they refused to listen, talk to, or be near each other because they believed in different things. Then I watched as people began killing each other over it. I can't quite understand why this is so important. Yes, this sounds naive, I know but still this is one of those topic I just can't quite grasp the concept of and I found that if I just did my best to avoid the topic things would be fine. The college I attended was religious in some way. It had a chapel and had a world religions course that people loved. It was one of those classes that everyone took and everyone loved, except of course for me. I found myself lucky enough to be brought into the honors program which allowed me to replace all of my liberal arts classes with honors ones. This I found to be a gift from whatever higher power was looking out for me because it helped me avoid that topic as much as I possibly could. My really great friend in college was also my sorority sisters. It took us quite some time to actually become friends because well you just can't believe some of the things that this girl says. Once we finally became friends/sisters and found a place were we understood each other. We started spending more and more time together one weekend we took a trip together, and she had what we called a zenon moment. Like the girls from outer space in that Disney movie. The words that came out of this girls mouth was just so outrageous I could not believe it. Luckily it prompted me to ask the question I had truly been wondering this whole time. "how in the world are you still alive?" She stopped and looked at me and having realized what just happened, she had no clue. On the train ride back she was finally able to give me an answer. "the only logical reason that I am still alive is that Jesus loves me... A lot." We both giggled. As my college carrier was coming to a close, I began freaking out as most graduating seniors do. I looked to my friends for help and there were only two people around me that really seamed to just be willing to go with the flow. The only two were my friends S & J. These two people could not be any more different from each other, but the one thing that they do seam to have in common are higher powers J is Muslim and S is Christian, I asked both of them and they said that their peace of mind comes from their higher power and religious beliefs. I want that peace of mind and if religion is going to be the place to find it than it is time for me to start studying. After college I found myself with some time on my hands so I went out and got a copy of the Qur'an and the Bible and started reading. The Peace Corps finally became a thing and my free time went way. I was lucky enough to meet someone, E, who had recently been through his spiritual awakening, and has been a fountain of information for me. In the end this is a really long and boring way to tell you I still have no clue when it comes to religion and I don't know if it will ever be for me. E helped me realize that if nothing else I am a 2 gallon bucket and 3 gallons of crazy and some book probably won't help fix that ( you so know I am reading 7 habits of highly effective people after this...j.k). Anyway my plan is to finish the Qur'an and Bible if nothing else because they are lovely and poetic. I am currently in a wonderful position of living in a religiously run country and am going to be given the chance to hopefully partake in lots of religious events and plan to take advantage of them. Tomorrow the rest of the country will begin fasting. I plan to ask lots of questions whenever I get the chance. I still don't get it. I don't know if I ever will. I am jealous of the peace of mind my friends have found and maybe Ramadan will help me with that. I guess the one thing now is that I am openminded to it. Good, bad, indifferent. Anyway here goes nothing, quite literally nothing! No food or water! it is 120 degrees out here! Once the cannon sounds letting us all know we can eat I will raise my bowl of harara (Moroccan soup) to an open and hopefully enshaallah peaceful mind.

Rooftops

Here in Morocco I have gained a new found love for rooftops. Here rooftops have become this magical portal to another place. Ok so obviously I am getting carried away a little with my new found love but the thing is here as a volunteer or even just as an American or someone who is starting to work in a new environment there is a continuos pressure to be perfect. Not only is Morocco just a really judgmental place to begin with, i am once more the new kid, and this time the strange looking one to. Every move I make is judged even when i think no one is looking. I have been told this is called the fish bowl effect.Anyway Peace Corps puts you in training with all of these wonderful people, you become fast friends and then Peace Corps does what they told you they would do all along, but splits you up and sends you to different corners of the country. Luckily Peace Corps gives us a phone that lets us all chat with each other and we are lucky enough to be doing this in the age of technology where communication is simple and sometimes instant. Now every once and a while we are lucky enough to get time off or there be some big event that throes us all together in one place along with this tend to be some hotel with a rooftop, these have become wonderful places where we can all get together relax, have a drink, eat way to many potato chips, play spades, and have educated conversations with vocabulary higher than a fifth grade level. Now many of us are in our own home and these tend to have rooftop access or a small court yard as in my case. This is a little outside places that are hidden away from the curious eyes of those in our community, they give us a chance to be outside and do and speak as we please. A friend of mine came out to spend a week and this gave us a great place to sit, read our books, and drink coffee in our pj's (which would not be acceptable to do in a public place. Girls in cafes and pj's are not publicly acceptable here). The heat here has also been rising over 100 degrees and many of my friends have ended up spending the nights on their roofs because it is just to hot to be indoors. Anyway I am grateful for these wonderful little escapes.