Site Announcement!

So you know that month, senior year in high school - if I remember correctly, sometime around March or April - when that all-important college acceptance (one would hope) letter would be arriving in the mail, dictating the next 4 years of your life and ultimately your happiness? I got to live that beautifully anxiety-ridden moment all over again, along with my lovely fellow PCTs of course, Monday afternoon during the - dun, dun, dun - Site Announcement. An event in which we were all given business-sized envelopes with the name of our future town, the one we'll be living and working the next two years in, scribbled inside on a small cardboard tag... actually it kind of resembled a tag you'd put on a Christmas gift bag, but I suppose that's besides the point.

Moral of the story is... my site is freaking awesome, yo. Though I believe I am unable to reveal the actual name of my site to the internet masses, I can tell you it is 45km southwest of Marrakesh. Marrakesh, mother effers. Start planning your vacations now. Also, pretty darned near to the west, not more than an hour or so away, is Agadir - an extremeley gorgeous beach resort town, so get on it. You're coming to see me. Whether you like it or not. And I'm pretty sure you'll like it. Yeah, pretty sure.

So I head off to the land of zween (perty-ness) is about 2 1/2 weeks. We'll be finishing up life in our CBT site in less than two weeks and then head to do some technical trainings and Swearing-in in Rabat after that. All is coming together and it feels right. The PCV I am replacing at my site has been nothing but super helpful, sweet, and full of information and we've only known who each other are for two days! My heads in the right place, despite being super zonked 24/7, and I couldn't be more pleased with my decision to do this. Of course, ask me again in three months when I'm all settled and dealing with the usual bullshit you deal with in work atmospheres, but as for now, I'm going to go with general satisfaction.

We'll I'm off to the lycee with the gang to do a cross-culture activity on Halloween and the like so I'll write to you all later. Oooooo tell me what you're all being for Halloween by the way! I desperately want to live vicariously through you. Oooo I love this crap.

See you Boos and Ghouls later!

... sometimes I want to kick myself in the shins for saying shit like that.

Death by namusa

Wakha... there are these things here... and they stalk me. They follow my every move. They watch me while I sleep and linger just beyond arms reach during the day. They can smell my blood and want to shrb it like they've never shrb-ed before. Back home, we might want to call them mosquitoes. But here, in Morocco, they have a mission, a vendetta, a task that must be completed in Allah's name... to eat me alive. I live with approximately 15 other people in my house, yet, low-and-behold, I am the only one who wakes up every morning itching her forearms with a vengence. I'll give you the current count....12345....17. That's right, seventeen bites on what is exposed beyond my 'Stop Global Warming' t-shirt I frequently sport during sleepy-time. I've tried longsleeves - I heard at least four of you screaming 'hey dumbass' at the screen just now' - I've tried basil in the window, even sleeping completely enveloped within the sheets. Everything short of offending my family by sleeping in the Peace Corps issued mosquito net. The trials and tribulations... of me versus the namusa. Coming to comic book stores near you.

Went to Fez this weekend! So awesome. The Old Medina is very Grand Bazaar-esque f Istanbul. Beautiful shops, narrow passage ways, phenomenal fish for lunch, and a ... nice view of the leather tanneries. Which, by the way, smell like shit. Due to the fact that, well, cow shit is indeed used to colour it. Yum. Sooner or later I'll figure out how to post pictures in a cyber cafe, and when I do, you're in for a treat.

Ah yes, I have a confession... for I have indeed sinned. So I haven't eaten at a McDonald's for... seven years? And well, desperation for both ice cream and a the glory of a western toilet beckoned that I enter the sole Mickey D's in Fez. I will have you know it was worth every moral and Karmic point I sacrificed. I never thought an 18 dirham Mcflurry could taste so good or that sitting while peeing could be so gratifying. But I will have you know that I don't regret a second of it. Plus... I figure I only participated in the exploitation of under-paid workers, false sense of joy with the kid version of 'la bamba' blasting out of the play house, and the consumption of a mass-produced artificial dairy product... however, I am proud to say I did not contribute to the proliferation of methane gas emissions that are caused by the meat industry that inevitabley lead to gross impacts upon the levels of greenhouse gases, by eating a universally named - Bic Mac. So there.

Will update something useful and/or culturally relavent later this week.

Love ya'll

Random McRandom

So after discussing - casually rambling about - this topic with my friend Erika this past hub date... we've decided that Morocco is Mexico... only without the drugs, sex, and alcohol. Or at least in public.

Let me explain... so a natural thing to expect when moving to a different country is culture shock right? Like, omg, there's a donkey over there... Why are there small children everywhere unsupervised... Why are these people dancing like crazy... while sober?... Or something ... like... that. But somehow, this seemed relatively normal to me. Relatively. I mean, I'm not going to pretend I'm expert on authentic Mexican and/or Moroccon culture. In fact, I'm going to straight-up preface this as being a complete generalisation meant for thought-process-documentation and t-shirt production only. It is blatently the complete opposite of what any Peace Corps volunteer should be 'assuming' -roll of the eyes- but I'm calling it like I see it. After all, a decent percentage of Orange County is, indeed, Mexican, my bestfriend is Mexican, and my grandmother darned well acted Mexican, despite an Italian and mixed Latina decent. Not to mention quite a few roadtrips across the border.

We can start with the donkey riding, for one, it's everywhere. Sombrero-esque hats and similar quilting patterns on the make shift saddle. Multiple generations living under the same roof, and despite the 'man' being the head of the household, we all know the grandmother really runs things. Making beans and rice ... and or couscous and potatoes... in mass quantities. Whatever is not eaten goes to the animals out back. Sense of time... or lack thereof. Culture deeply rooted in religious context - though not necessarily practiced as well as one should or as publicly visable - with relics and icons still significantly visible around the home. Again, especially at Grandma's.

I don't know why it occured to me so late - five weeks in - or, at the same time, why it occured to me it all. Is it even occur-able? Am I just digging myself a terrible grave of assumption and mis-interpretation? Either way, I reckon if either country adopted the other's perspective on drugs, sex, and alcohol... I don't know what I reckon yet, I just found it interesting. You might not. Smihuli.

So you know that friend...

The one who can entertain a crowd, has an (huge) opinion on everything, whom you love spending time with up until the point where you want to pull your hair out? That may or may not be my host family, more specifically my host sister. She's the friend that you schedule to hang out with just before an important family outing or business meeting so you can have a secure excuse for an escape route. She's the friend you can only handle in doses. And I live with her. Safi. Really, I love her, though. Edit: as this post was saved prior to posting yesterday, my sister has since apologized for being a crazy psycho last week and has blamed it all on starting haydk... or her period - for lack of tactful synonyms.



This weekend has been a blissful escape to Azrou and Imouzzar for, firstly, Peace Corps safety and security sessions - yes a depressing std/aids video was included - and secondly, a lovely day spent in parks throughout Imouzzar. Good company and a lazy day is seriously what I needed to get motivated for Monday and Darija class. Over the weekend though I think our little group of three realized that we are definitlely ahead of the pack language wise. Which, thank goodness -l'hamdoullah, I needed that to keep me jazzed and focused. We work our butts off in class for 10 hours everyday and its nice to know it's paying off!



I'm realizing more and more everday how diversely beautiful this country is though. Deserts yes, but moutains, waterfalls, rivers, lakes, forests, sunsets, all of it. I love it. And stoked on finding out in 2 weeks what my final site will be. Yippeeee. :).



So word on the street is the Angels and Yankees are both kicking but right now, though. Good to hear! And um, Obama, Nobel Peace Prize? I mean, I like the guy, but really? Already? I need to read the news more. A little difficult to do at the moment, however, so give me some perspective. Also just read he's ending the gay policy in the military?

Two books down and an infinate amount to go. The Art of Crossing Cultures is highly recommended, written by an RPCV, and Kitchen Confidential are crossed off the to-do list. Next victim is yet to be determined but definitely being pondered...

Going to Fez this weekend with the family so definitely excited about that! I haven't purchased anything really since arriving here. I mean, Sim Card obviously, oooo and a coffee maker - a la Katia ;) - and... toilet paper? Yeah, definitely nothing noteworthy. Figure I'll be doing most of my money-wasting when I get my own place in a couple months. Interior decorating here I come! And by that I mean I'm crossing my fingers that I'll be able to afford a mini-fridge and a bed that's actually raised off the ground. (Yes, there are regulations for this... it has to be high enough that scorpions can't eat my alive.)

Sorry I don't have anything riveting to share but that about that there does it. Mmm hmm. Yep.

By the way, I miss my brother. Write me you jerk!!!! And by that, I mean I love you. Barf.

I would kill - possibly even torture beforehand, with no chance escape in the forseeable future - small, cute, and cuddly things for a fall-flavoured latte right now. Just for the record.

Ohhh yeah, I forgot to mention, this lady from DC who was present during our sessions in Azrou brought us... wait for it... candy corn... mother effing candy corn on Friday. - insert giddy explosion here - Mind you I've despised the cornsyrup concoction up till this point in my life, but American commercialism has never tasted so sweet. I savoured it like democracy itself. Delish.

Peace out boy scouts xx

Getting into the new groove.

So you know when you were in highschool and you would come home from school, all tired and nonchalant, and your mom would ask you 'How was your day?' and you'd respond with the ever present 'Fine'. 'What did you do?' ' Nothing.' And you'd trudge up to your room, notebooks and stringcheese in hand, determined to sink into your private sphere of nothingness and video games for a few hours before homework called and pressing conversation around the dinner table ensued?

I think I'm at that stage. Which, actually, I think is a success. After almost a month in country (holy crap by the way) I think I've acheived a sense of routine, of normality, of -gasp, shock, horror- adaptation to my situation here. After class from 8:30 until 6, which includes language, cross-culture lessons and dar chebab meetings, I'm becoming accostomed to the 'What'd you learn in school today' probing by my host mother - and to a larger degree, host sisters - the moment I swing through the door, all tired and nonchalant. Becoming used to the small kids clinging to my legs and molesting my face as I set my things on the bedroom floor. Helping make tagine or couscous in the evening for an approximately 9:30pm dinner time. So when all is said and done, I trudge over to my room, notebooks and l'3nb in hand, determined to sink into my own private sphere of nothingness and Kitchen Confidential for about 5 minutes until I, almost garunteed, crash without covers, book on chest, and beluga on the floor. Usually with homework and studying not even in the picture.

Despite complete and utter exhaustion, I love that I can now at least have a sense of how my day is going to go. The stress of being constantly bombarded with schedule changes and hourly surprises was taking its toll. On my face. Over the course of the last two weeks, my skin has taken on the persona of a peak-pubescent boy. No amount of Neutrogena has helped. But, sigh, the last three or four days have seen a calming trend, both in life and in a dermatological sense, and I'm all the happier for it.

The program staff, during an interview conducted last week in order to help determine my final site, asked what it is that I want to gain skill-wise out of my stay here, as my background and job history speak to what most people look to gain (abroad experience, independence, etc). And we both decided I seriously need to learn flexibility. The fact that my face breaks out due to change in plans seriously needs to be reckoned with. I need to chill the eff out. I need to expect people to not be punctual for the next two years. I need to expect that the taxi will not get there on time. I need to expect that we won't talk about anything relavent until 30 minutes into the meeting. I need to not only expect it, but be okay with it, to roll with it, to somehow even use it to my advantage? Basically, I need to chill the eff out.

Sundays, however, will be host to the aforementioned study periods. After this quick jaunt to the cyber, a buttload of verbs await me back at home. And in the words of an brave llama emporor in the face of a steep drop and sharp rocks... Bring it on.

Side notes -

Best of luck to David and hope to see you in Israel sooner rather than later! The Turtles exist no longer, but the Mustketeers will endure. ... In sha'allah.

Aragons, give me some news!! How is everything? Give Maddie some love for me.

So my mom's update today consisted of P. Swayze dying and good family friends seperating, anybody got some glasshalf full shit - name that movie -? Haha, love you mom, but jeeeeeez.

xoxo (thinking of you Katia!)