I've Got Soul, But I'm Not a Soldier: Wet Hot Moroccan Summer! ... ish.

So after successfully hibernating in my house for 48 hours now, I have mustered the courage to combat this here blog and rejoin the land of the living. Huzzah! The need to hide out for a wee while in my humble abode was due to being on the road for just over three weeks - a little vaca, a little camp action, a little visit up to PC headquarters. The month of August had treated me pretty well, up until the start of Ramadan. With the help of some seriously sub-par food served towards the end of our camp extravaganza, my bowels and I were at war and decided to take cover once back in Sedona-miz, much to the chagrin of my host family, who has tried baiting me out of my fox hole for many a day now. Tomorrow, insha'allah, tomorrow.

Despite any gastrointestinal pyrotechnics I may have been dealing with, this last month has been one of my favourites here in country. I got to spend a lovely couple of days with some of my best friends in country down in Agadir just before camp started. We ate, we drank, we burned. Us white folks will never quite learn our lesson when it comes to pacing ourselves in the sun. Nevertheless, ice cream, cheeseburgers, and beer healed our summertime wounds and refueled our group morale just before the start of the last session of camp.

Now, I can't speak for anyone else, but I was a-feared going into session 4, Ramadan session, of camp. I'd heard some horror stories from previous sessions about inter-staff tension, inter-pcv tension, crap food, bratty city kids picking on our bled kids, the sub-par living conditions we had to look forward to. I may not have emitted it, but going in as co-coordinator of this session, I was definitely glass half empty. Hamdullah, was I wrong or what.

I don't think our camp could have gone smoother if we tried. Though there were a few minor things out of anyone's control - the barracks we were sleeping in, the humidity, and some inter-moroccan-staff issues - I can safely say all PCVs involved had a freaking blast. I couldn't believe how great the kids were during our session. With just over 80 total, half bled, half city, they got on like a house on fire and treated all of us counselors with respect and like friends. We had no issues between the most urban Casa kids and the most backwater rural kids. Everyone intensely bonded with their country teams and camp played out like we all hoped it would.

I was also pleased to find out how much I really enjoyed the company of the second year volunteers working with us. I had heard great things about all of them previous to arriving in El Jadida, but I didn't expect to bond with them as much as I did. It's a shame that within Peace Corps Morocco, we are all so separated from each other within the country. This was my first time meeting a few of them, and unfortunately, probably my last before they COS in November. A truly great group of people though, whose company I enjoyed very much - air guitar sessions, halloween dress-up, that's-what-she-said-ing, and 4am ftur-ing all included.

If you want to be in the correct mind set for picture viewing, I will refer you to these tunes as the happenstance soundtrack of summer camp:

Stromae - Alors on Dance, or what we PCVs commonly referred to as ' I LOVE DANCE ' complete with Night at the Roxbury head tilts.

Shakira - Waka Waka, this is like dance party GOOOOOLD in Morocco. This was played at least a handful of times any place I've been before, during, and after the World Cup. After learning the dance that goes along with it, us PCVs are an African force to be reckoned with.

The Isley Brothers - Shout!, us PCVs definitely performed this during the final show at camp, Duncan holding down the fort with lead vocals and us ladies working the ever present 'wooooooo' and 'shoobie doowa dowa wa wa wa'-s. Good times.