Here’s to a New Start

The rollercoaster ride of these past weeks cannot even be described in words. Below is a blog in which I drafted last night but did not feel ready to share:

“These past few weeks have been quite the roller coaster here in Ouled Dahou. Since last writing, I have moved into a new house and have continued my teaching. I have been working really hard at integrating into my community, accepting every tea and couscous offer I get (even if that means I have to force myself to eat some sheep intestines, which I still haven’t mastered without getting sick). I have befriended all my Hanut owners (which is only 3) and one has even started teaching me how to crochet. With all this being said, not everything has been happy dandy in my small village.

The old neighbor that I changed apartments because of has started to stalk me. He figured out my daily routines and waits for me at various parts of my village so that he can follow me. Sometimes when I see him I take a different, longer route, but it is no good. He knows there is only one place I’m heading, and meets me there. My host family has started warning me against going to specific places in fear that I might run into him while I am alone, keep in mind my village is only about 300 people to begin with, so places to visit are already very limited. The fear I used to have while entering the apartment, scared he might corner me in the stairwell again, is now the fear I feel walking along the dirt roads to and from my dar chebab. The entire time I think about what I would do if he tried something. Constantly looking back to make sure he hasn’t gotten too close to me. I spend my nights lying awake in bed, turning the light on with every noise I hear. I then spend my days being tired and full of anxiety. The more time I spend thinking about it, the more annoyed I get, but it seems to be the only thing on my mind lately.

The frustration of the people in my community not understanding why I am so scared of this man. One of my counterparts told me for weeks that I am probably just worrying too much, until he walked me home one night and saw how he stands and waits for me at the dark corner just staring at me while I walk by. When he witnessed this for the first time he simply replied, “wow, okay you officially have a stalker,” and hasn’t let me walk home alone from the dar chebab since. “Well he hasn’t really done anything to you besides ask you to marry him and watch you,” the others always tell me. Yet, they don’t have to share the unbearable feeling of unease that I experience every time he holds his heart, as if its aching, when he sees me, with his bloodshot eyes. Or the fear I feel when I am getting vegetables from my veggie man and the old neighbor walks out of the café so I know he is watching me and starts following me home until I walk fast enough that he is out of site.

The frustration I have with myself when my body freezes and I am unable to say anything when he does follow me. When he reached out to grab me and told me he wanted to marry me the first time, my only reaction was to pull away and to say, “Sorry.” Sorry?!?! Seriously?!?! Why was that the only word that I could let slip out of my mouth? People in my village keep telling me to yell at him, I wish I could. It’s the same frustration I felt when I was in a grand taxi having a man grope my butt. I was too shocked to react, all it would have taken was yelling “Hshuma” at him but instead I froze. Then sometimes, I sit here and ask myself why I should have to find a way to react to these things anyways. Maybe I should not be forced to be in a situation in which I am so scared that my mind goes blank.

The past few days I have been talking a lot about going home. A few months ago, I would have never imagined ever experiencing this feeling, but now it is all I have longed for over a week now. I long for the sense of safety again, a good night’s sleep, and the comfort of familiar people around me. As I have expressed my feelings to some of my friends from home, they respond by telling me this is my dream and I would regret going home. My dream was to immerse myself into another culture, help the people of that community, and to ultimately find myself, as cliché as that sounds. My dream was not to lose who I was and live in fear. The past two months I have been stalked and harassed nonstop, the toll that takes on your mind and body cannot be expressed in words. It makes you doubt yourself and sometimes it even makes you hate yourself for being so vulnerable to such a thing.

My 5 months here in Morocco have been nothing less of spectacular. I have met some of the most loving, caring people, which I cannot imagine saying goodbye to, whether it be a few weeks from now or 22 months from now. I have cried, I have laughed, and I have laughed so much that I cried. I put myself out there and I tested my health as well as mental and physical strength. I have had some absolutely amazing volunteers there by my side to experience all these things with me. I learned a lot about myself and I adapted my behavior to this beautiful culture. With that being said, most importantly, I have figured out myself and understand my needs enough to feel okay with the fact that I doubt staying here, regardless of what others think or say about it.”

So now, let’s review what has happened since then. As I said, I was on a grand taxi ride up to Rabat. I was going to Rabat to talk to the people of Peace Corps headquarters about what has been going on. I was prepared to walk into the office and tell them that I am heading home. Fortunately, that is not what actually happened. Instead, I finally got professional help and advice on the topic. I had people understand me and not question my own sanity. I had people support me and truly care for my wellbeing and safety. The woman in charge of safety and security touched my heart today in a way that I will never forget. I feel as if this past week, I lost my spark, I completely forgot the reason why I am here; she relit it for me. She believed in me and would not let me give up on something that I worked so hard to be a part of. She gave me back my inspiration and determination.

It was concluded that I would apply for a site change due to serious safety issues in my current site. In the meantime, I will be living with two volunteers in a city close to my current site, who have been by my side faithfully through this whole mess. I will be volunteering with them at their dar chebab and nedi neswi until Peace Corps approves my request for a site change and finds a new site for me. At first, I was very hesitant on having to starting all over again but I have decided to accept it with an open mind. So here is to starting over! Now, I would like to end this long rant with a quote from one of my fellow staj mates (shout out to you, Evelyn), “Without challenge, there is no change.”

The Small Victories

It has been a long time since I have posted anything and let me tell you, so much has happened during that time. Where to start… I swore in as an official Peace Corps Volunteer, I said goodbye to my loving host family in the North and moved into the house of another loving host family here in the South (pictured above), I started my first English and women’s fitness classes, and I have started moving into my very own apartment.

I’ve almost been at my site for a full month but it feels like I have been living here so much longer than that. The life of a Peace Corps volunteer involves the victory in the smallest of things. It sounds cliché but it couldn’t be more true. For example, bleaching the dirt stains out of my cardigan, successfully (hopefully, we have to wait for the final result) talking to a guy about building me a bookshelf in my broken darija, having 8 women attend my fitness class when only 1 attended the first one, or even just being able to have a good conversation with my family.

For the most part, my time in my new site has been amazing. I now have a full schedule, teaching English 5 times a week and having my women’s fitness class 4 times a week, wanting to start an art club for the pre-school kids. I have built relationships with a great number of members from my community. One day for example, I was just wondering around when I ran into this woman with a donkey. She looked at me with a very confused look on her face so I started conversation with her. Soon she invited me to her house and of course, I accepted the invitation. She took me inside a gate and showed me around her farm, which consisted of donkeys, sheep, goats, cows, a baby cow, chickens, turkeys, baby turkeys, and a dog named, “Jack.” I sat outside with her daughter and watched her make bread over a fire than we went inside, had tea, and chatted. This was another small victory for the books that made the rest of my day filled with happiness.

With that being said, not all days are good. Today started out to be one of those days. Over the past few days I have been slowly moving my stuff into my new apartment, the same one the previous volunteer spent her two years in. There has been previous issues with the upstairs neighbor that I was aware of but was told it should not be an issue for me since police were involved in the past, not making me feel any better about the situation. My first interaction with him was fine, a quick “hi, how are you, good, fine, thanks, bye.” My second interaction was last night when he awkwardly cornered me in the stairwell and introduced himself and asked about myself, saying “thank you” after everything I said. It wasn’t his actions as much as the way he looked at me with a creepy smirk on his face that left me very uneasy in my stomach. A feeling I only had one other time since being here, when a guy in a taxi refused to keep his hands to himself and I was too shocked to react, afterwards disgusted not only by the situation but also with myself.

After my lessons at the dar chebab that night, at 10:30pm, one of my counterparts was walking me back to my host family’s house when I saw the neighbor waiting outside our apartment door. I completely ignored him because I was still freaked out about earlier interaction. I asked my counterpart what he thought of the man and he just responded that he was “socially awkward.” That night I laid in bed thinking of what I could keep on me so I felt safe going up and down those stairs. Maybe a pocket knife? Or a can of bug spray that I could spray in his face? I don’t remember falling asleep but what I do remember is waking up at 3am to some of the worst stomach pains ever, the same ones that I knew all too well here in Morocco. I thought I was over stomach issues, after 3 months of being here you think I would be, but the stewed intestines and red beets and sardine salads that my family served me every night for dinner had proved me wrong. I laid awake in discomfort until the sun rose and I decided to start my day.

My medicine was at my future apartment so I decided to go grab some for my stomach. It was daylight outside so my creepy neighbor didn’t even cross my mind until I was leaving my apartment and saw his shadow coming down the stairs and heard his footsteps. My heart jumped and my only reaction was just to sprint down the stairs. Once I reached the bottom I waited to see if he was coming down or if he in fact did just hear me and decide to come down, as I suspected. I didn’t hear him but when I looked up he was on the roof watching me. My heart sank and that gross, sick feeling returned. I walked down the street just enough so I was out of his site and found myself crying. I did not feel well and now I was scared to go to my own apartment.

I thought it was just going to be one of those days. One of those days where my spirits are just going to be down all day and that’s that. I finally asked my family if they knew about the man and expressed to them that I was scared of him. They explained to me that he does not have a good name around here and that I should talk to my mudir and tell him what happened, the director of the dar chebab. It was refreshing to know that they supported me and almost even more refreshing to be able to hold this conversation with them. Some days my language itself makes me want to cry. Today was not going to be one of those days.

My family wanted to go to a village close by but I told them I did not feel well and was going to just stay home but first I had to get stuff from my apartment. My mom and sister came along since they understood I felt scared, which turned into a huge cleaning spree, one in which my apartment was in need of. After, I decided to go along with them since they were so kind and helped me clean my house. I am so happy I did.

It was at my mom’s sister’s house in a cute village close by but much bigger than my village. There were at least 50 women in one outside room playing instruments and dancing, my beautiful host mom and sisters included. They pulled me up to dance a few times but I would never last long due to being embarrassed about my lack of dancing skills. We drank tea, ate at least 10 turkeys, and walked back home, chatting and chatting. My entire day was turned around.

Regardless of only being here for 3 months, I have already noticed a huge change within my attitude. Being able to forget the failures and accept the small victories, keeping an open mind regardless of how my day started and what mood I was in, and just being organically happy. I find myself smiling and full of joy just walking to my dar chebab fighting my way through a herd of sheep or goats that are stubbornly taking up the entire dirt road. I know this is just the beginning of my journey and I cannot wait to see where it takes me.

It’s The Simple Things

 

So it’s been nearly a month so I’ve written a post in here and a dear friend gave me the inspiration to finally force myself to do so. CBT can be very draining at times, both physically and mentally. Thankfully my stomach has finally gotten accustomed to the food, knock on wood. The past two weeks my CBT group has been passing a nasty cold back and forth to one another, so I’ve been spending some time with the sniffles and a sore throat, which are finally going away, again, knock on wood. Besides that, we’re in class from 8:30am-6:00pm and when we go to the dar chebab, sometimes we don’t get back until after 7pm. Then its kaskrut, a late dinner, and then sleep just to wake up and do it all again. I often find it difficult to find time for myself. While sometimes not having my alone time can present challenges, I am very happy to spend all my free time with my family.

I have learned more than I ever imagined from my host family. My mother speaks fluent English so I have been very fortunate to hold many conversations with her not only about her culture and religion but also about her family, hopes, and dreams. My mother is a beautiful woman and I love her dearly. She isn’t your average woman here in Morocco. She is in the process of opening up her own seamstress shop in the garage and I am so happy to be here to watch it all come together. Today when I got home from class there was a woman waiting at the door. I said hello to her and she confusingly asked me if Kaltoum was my mom, I was very proud to say yes. My little brother, Mouad, was very shy at first. I tried very hard to talk to him but could never get a single peep out. Over the past month and a half I have finally been able to break down that wall with him. Now we stay up late playing checkers and making figures out of shadows on the living room wall. He also loves hiding around corners and scaring me, the other day he went as far as climbing through a window in the kitchen to sneak up on me. I have grown so close to my family here and Azrou has become my home. Tonight while I was washing dishes, my mom told me to stop and come to the roof with her. When we got to the roof, the sky was the prettiest color blue I’ve ever seen and the stars were so bright. I stood there with her for awhile just looking over Azrou and then I turned to her and told her how much I am going to miss this place and especially them. While I will miss them, I am so fortunate that they played such a big role in my introduction to Morocco and I look forward to visiting them over the next 2 years, and hopefully having them visit me.

This brings me to the next topic, site announcements! We found out our sites earlier this week, drum roll please…I will be going to an itty bitty village, in the South, of maybe 500, called Ouled Dahu. My site is exactly what I had hoped for. I am in a very rural site which is known for its agriculture. I have both a youth center and a women’s center, so I will have the opportunity to work at both. I will also be surrounded by 15 other small villages that I might be able to find some work in. I will also be the only volunteer at my site, which makes me a little nervous but also excited. My site is exactly what I asked for, and many will tell me I am crazy for that. When I applied for the Peace Corps I had a certain image of challenges in my head. Living in Azrou, I was not faced with any of these challenges. I have warm water, a shower, a western toilet, and even a washing machine. It would have been easy for me to have asked for a site where I could find these amenities but that was not what I had imagined I applied to the Peace Corps. I look forward to the challenges that await me (no wifi, no warm water, no clean drinking water, turk toilet, etc.). While I am very rural and my town has no resources, I am very lucky to be located within an hour of two large cities. The first being Agadir, a beautiful coastal city and the other being Taroudant, where my two closest friends here in Azrou are being placed!

The other trainees here in Azrou have, like my family, had an everlasting effect on my introduction not only here in Morocco but also as a Peace Corps Trainee. We spend every single day together, including the days we don’t have class. I honestly would not have made it through this past month and a half without each and every one of them. Today we had one of those days that left me feeling very fulfilled. We finished class at 12:30pm and decided to get together to cook a Mexican meal. Don’t ask me why we waited this long to cook a meal together. After enjoying our delicious lunch, we spent the rest of the day soaking up the Moroccan sun on the roof. Mal, one of the older volunteers in my group, did something today that really touched my heart, in a way he probably would have never imagined. My CBT group knows that I am terrified of using propane tanks in my house due to a previous incident. Mal decided that he was going to show me how to use the propane to turn on the stove, which is obviously something I should know before I go off to site on my own. Step by step he told me what to do and my entire CBT group was in the kitchen watching me. To me, it reminded me of times when my father used to show me how to do simple tasks, such as how to check the oil in my car. My dad and I were really close and he passed away when I was 16. When Mal taught me how to use the propane tank, it felt like such a father-daughter moment, something I haven’t experienced since losing my father, and it really touched my heart. In that moment, I felt blissful and confident that I am on the right path in life. Everyday since I’ve been here, I have experienced something that gives me that feeling. Yesterday it was when I came home, after a stressful day of classes, to a really encouraging and inspiring message from my mom waiting for me on Facebook. I am learning to see the beauty in the small things, and I think that’s one of the many personal changes I have to look forward to.

One Month Down

Well today marks the day that I have been in Morocco for one month. Today as I sat in the front seat of a grand taxi, squeezing against one of my fellow CBTers with a shifter digging into my thigh, I pondered about my time here in Morocco so far. I giggled in my head as I reflected on all the silly things that I am either still in shock about or strangely getting used to. As I sat there, holding on to the dash and watching the driver pick his nose, I thought nothing would be more appropriate than to make a list of the top 15 things that I have either grown oddly used to or don’t think I ever will.

1. Grand Taxis. Honestly though, there is no comfortable way to sit in them. My hips are way too big for that. My cbt group has tried just about every combination. I am, however, completely fine getting tight and cuzzy with them, random people on the other hand, not so much.

2. Grown men thinking it is okay to pick their noses in public for all to see. You may laugh, and I wish I was joking but I’m not. The amount of man I see, digging up their noses for who knows what is unbelievable. I see it everyday and I still comment on it every time I see it.

3. The beauty of this country and its people. As much as I hate squeezing into the grand taxis, I get so excited to travel. This country has so much to offer. In an hour ride, I see cities, farms, mountains after mountains, snow, sun, and land literally made up of only rocks. On top of that, Moroccans have got to be some of the most caring people in the world. They would drop anything for anyone. Possibly making this one of the most beautiful countries.

4. The fact that I am actually living in Africa. As we were walking home from the taxi stand today, another volunteer asked me, “So, does it feel like you’re living in Africa yet?” It simply doesn’t. There are a few moments a day when I sit and think, “Wow, I’m really in Africa right now.”

5. The cold. Perhaps that’s the real reason I don’t feel like I’m in Africa. I can’t believe how cold it is here. I was warned before coming but I live in rural Pennsylvania and thought I could handle it. What I didn’t know then was that they do not have heating in their houses here. I have to bundle up not only everyday to sit through class but also every night to go to bed. There hasn’t been a day yet that I couldn’t see my breath in my bedroom. My coping strategy? My amazing host mother boils water for me every night and puts it in a plastic jug for me and I cuddle that throughout the night with 3+ heavy blankets and a sleeping bag.

6. The amazing people that the Peace Corps finds. Honestly, I have never met such amazing people before in my life. Everyone here has the most interesting life stories and the biggest hearts.

7. How quickly I have gotten close to these people. With the above being said, I honestly tell these people everything. It could be literally the most pointless stuff but they know everything going on in my life. I also sit next to them in the hmmam, with only my underwear on, scrubbing my body while holding casual conversations with them. I definitely feel like I’ve known them for longer than just one month.

8. Donkeys. Everything about them. Seeing people ride them through the streets. People thinking they are disgusting. I think they are the cutest things ever. My LCF told me a Moroccan would laugh at me if I told that, but I am sticking to it.

9. The level of exhaustion I experience everyday. There are so many recent volunteers that tell me CBT is going to be the hardest part of my service. I never understood what they meant by that until this past week. I am just so exhausted everyday. I’m so busy doing language lessons, going to the dar shabab, spending time with family, and studying. During my placement interview the regional manager asked me how my time here compares to that in Australia. I sat there thinking for awhile and then told her the truth. I told her that I have been so busy here that I haven’t even had the time to sit and reflect on any of what I’ve experienced yet.

10. Eating food without utensils. We went to a hotel this weekend for hub and they served our food with utensils. I looked at them and then picked up my piece of bread and used that as my utensil, just as I have been trained to do this past month. At that moment, I thought to myself how strange it felt to eat with my hands when I first got here. Then I thought how its going to be even weirder trying to go back to eating with a fork in knife in 2+ years.

11. My daily craving for snickers and coco cola. Honestly though. I didn’t even like snickers when I was back in the States but for some reason, here, I find myself craving them everyday. Them and coco cola have been my go to comfort food.

11. My love for the hmman. As I stated in my last post, I looked forward to going to the hmmam. Now I can’t wait to go. It is a really nice break from the freezing cold. It also gives me some time to relax and not worry about language or culture for an hour or two.

12. How adorable the kids are here. Honestly though, after their parents dress them for the cold, you just see a bundle of clothes walking with little legs popping out the bottom. The cutest thing ever.

13. The neglected dogs on the streets. I came here not sure what to expect when it came to pets. All you that know me well know that I love animals. Dogs are very neglected here. I see them everyday digging through the dumpsters for food and I hear them fighting every night when I am trying to go to sleep.

14. Never having toilet paper. This is really gross but its so true. I’ve gotten pretty used to always having a travel pack of tissues on me but sometimes I forget those too and just gotta do what needs to be done.

15. Barely ever showering. And smelling. And being completely okay with it. Everyone else around me is in the same position so who am I trying to impress?

“Adventure Is Out There”

Its been a little over a week since I’ve written and what a week its been. My experience here in Morocco so far has been nothing but amazing. While I say it is amazing, that does not mean that it doesn’t have its challenges. This last week has been exceptionally good. I experienced the hmmam (the public bath) and the grand taxi (a regular sized car that 6 passengers are squeezed into) for the first time. I also also spent the weekend in Fez.

The hmmam was quite the experience. This is a public bath that Moroccans go to once a week or so since most of them do not have accessible showers. Even those with showers, such as my family, still go once or twice a week, where they spend anywhere from 2-4 hours socializing with friends. Many Americans are skeptical of the hmmams because you strip down to only your underwear and take your bath in front of others of the same gender. This concept was not however a concern of mine. Ever since I got to Morocco I wanted to go to the hmmam. Once I got to my snowy and very cold cbt site, there was nothing I wanted more. I went with some fellow PCTs on a Friday evening, one of the busier nights. It was an amazing experience. I have never felt more clean and it was just the relaxation I needed after hours upon hours of studying arabic. I finally went out to buy my own stuff to take to the human instead of borrowing my host mother’s. Below you can see my bucket, basket, mat, and scope. The bucket is filled with water and the scope is used to scope out the water to wash yourself. The mat is placed on the floor so you have a clean place to sit.

The grand taxi was another interesting experience. I have been warned about them but didn’t know what to expect. Truth is, a grand taxi is an old mercedes that quite frankly sounds like its gonna fall apart at any second. When you take a grand taxi, you pay for a seat. Total there are 6 seats, 4 squeezed in the back and 2 squeezed into the one passenger seat in the front. I am very thankful I got to experience this for the first time with my cbt group, I don’t think I would be comfortable at this point having a random Moroccan half sitting in my lap. I was squeezed in the back for 3 other volunteers, closest to the window, overall it wasn’t too bad except for fearing the door was gonna fly open when we went around any turns. Below is a picture of the 3 other volunteers and myself in the back of this grand taxi.

Our destination for the grand taxi was Fez. I was not sure what to expect from Fez but it is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. It is an old medina (city) that feels like a maze once you are in the old city. It has narrow streets surrounded by walls that go 3-4 floors up. There was something about this old medina and the warm sun that put me in one of the best moods. Our lcf surprised us on the way there by taking us to his home to enjoy kaskrut (the meal before dinner) with his family before we got to Fez. After that, we hopped in some more taxis to reach our destination. That evening consisted of catching up with other volunteers, many who we haven’t seen since we left for our cbt sites. The next day I explored the streets of the city, where I bargained for my first purchases, as you can see below. The man I bought the shoes from agreed to the cheaper price because he thought I spoke arabic so well, which was a much needed confident boost for myself. After exploring a bit, we spent the rest of the afternoon on the roof to our hostel soaking up the sun and appreciating the beautiful medina before heading back to cold Azrou. The last two pictures are photos taken from the roof of our hostel. 

And Yet Another Goodbye

I find myself writing my posts in the most diverse places in times when I have so much to say that I want to get it written down on paper before forgetting. Right now, I happen to be on the roof of my Language and Culture Facilitator’s (LCF’s) house, watching him and another volunteer play soccer. The past two days have been quite the roller coaster and I’ve been told that is what my entire service is going to look like.

Yesterday was definitely a downer. I expect many of these days to come and go. I am very thankful to my support system at home and my growing support system here in Morocco. Training is very exhausting. I’m with the same 5 people almost every minute of every day trying to learn this crazy language. When our long days are over I go home to try again to speak Darija. Some days we will find ourselves in funks, that’s normal no matter what you are doing in life. Yesterday was just one of those days for me and I found myself being annoyed with the littlest things that would never annoy me on any other given day. I decided to treat myself to a Coca Cola and a chocolate bar, vented to another volunteer for awhile, and then went to bed hoping for a better day to follow.

And a better day it was. Better but strange. Today I said a goodbye that was long past due. We all experience those relationships when you find yourself hanging on long after you know it is over. We love someone so much that we want so badly to keep trying until they see things the way you do. Its important to realize when the comprises you have been making are beginning to interfere with your everyday life and when you truly deserve better. I knew for awhile that it was time to say that goodbye but still hung onto a lost hope. Today I finally did what I needed to do.

It happened to be a day when our living room was filled with men in suits, all relatives of my host father. I ate lunch with everyone and then snuck upstairs to my bedroom, hoping to find some room to breath. After putting myself back together I wondered downstairs where I found a peeled orange on the table. My older host brother had realized that I disappeared before fruit was served so he had peeled an orange for me. I took the orange and sat with my mother and shared with her that I was having an emotional day. She too was having an emotional day and said we would cry together later. She even tried convincing me to call my LCF and tell him that I couldn’t come to class because I needed to have a “crying session” with my mom. I truly believe I have the most caring, loving, host family here in Morocco. Everyday they make these small gestures that mean the world to me.

I continued onto class which was by far the best lesson we’ve had yet. It was only about an hour of studying on the roof and then it transformed into 4 of us playing soccer, the first I played any sport since my ACL reconstruction. My LCF gave me a Moroccan name, “dunya,” which means life. The sky was the brightest blue I’ve ever seen. I found such happiness on that roof today. I was surrounded with some of the most sincere, caring people that I have ever met. I had finally let go of something that had been holding me down.  I sat down for a moment to reflect on how lucky and thankful I am to be where I am today, which is when I pulled out my notebook to write these thoughts. I felt a strong sense of happiness, freedom, and power. Today was definitely the better day that I had hoped for before going to bed last night and I hope for many to come.

My Last Goodbyes and Take Off

I wrote this post on my cell phone during my 8 hour flight coming to Morocco, exactly 9 days ago. I never imagined being so busy that it would be over a week later that I would finally be publishing it. It was 7:24pm, about a half hour after take off.

“I’m seated next to a nice gentleman from Guinea. Due to his broken English and my lack of understanding any French, a lot of our conversations has consisted of smiling and nodding our heads. What I did gather was that his brother and uncle live in the states so he’s been back and forth visiting them for 22 years now and will be going back again in May. He has a son in Denmark and then the rest of his family resides in Guinea. He asked if I’ve ever been to Africa before and I shared that this will be my first time. He proceeded to ask if I was going on vacation so I explained that I am going to be a Peace Corps Volunteer. As soon as those three words left my mouth a huge smile approached his face and as the tone of his voice changed to excitement, he began to share his own experience with Peace Corps Volunteers. I only wish I was able to grasp more of what he was saying.

My feelings right now are about as strange as my goodbyes were. My goodbyes consisted of texts, awkward hugs, and a lot less crying than I had anticipated. Sometimes I would find myself trying to convince my friends that everything would be alright and that it would be easy to keep in touch while other times it was them trying to do that convincing. I was surprised by the amount of friends who reached out to say goodbye to me, which meant a lot. I say the hugs were awkward because it didn’t seem real that it would be over 2 years until I saw this person again. It was only when I hugged my dear nephew and my boyfriend when my heart sunk and I didn’t want to let go. I knew that I wouldn’t see these people for 2+ years, so why wasn’t I more upset to say goodbye? It could be the advance technology that makes it so easy to keep in touch, it could be the overwhelming amount of excitement I had to finally go, or it could have been the fact that it simply didn’t hit me yet.

This feeling of unrealism is still very alive. Fortunately, many other volunteers have also expressed the concern of why it didn’t hit us yes. During staging, a RPCV had shared with us that it didn’t hit her until she was on a bus going to meet her host family, which is only 4 short days away. Besides that, I’m feeling a lot of excitement. I can’t wait to land and finally see in person what I’ve been obsessing over on Google images for months. I also look forward to spending the next 27 months with these amazing people. I’ve never been in a room of such diverse people, all with the same aspirations as I. With that being said, I also know that right now they also have the same worries and concerns as I, which helps alleviate a lot of the stress that I’ve been holding on my shoulders. Overall, I look forward to what the next 27 months has to give.”

 

My Packing List

I have one week until I fly out of the United States to Start my 27 month journey in Morocco! I have spent hours upon hours reading others’ blogs trying to figure out what I should pack. The anxiety kept building as I wondered how I would possibly fit everything into two large bags and two small carry ons. One day when I had planned to have a lazy day and watch tv, I started throwing some shirts on my bed that I wanted to take with me to Morocco. Before long, this turned into a full day of packing. I decided to document everything I was packing so I could share it with future volunteers, hopefully helping them as previous volunteers had helped me. Below is a copy of my packing list, please comment if you have any questions!

Training (In 80L Hiking Backpack)

Clothes:

• 2 Wool long-sleeved shirts
• 2 thermal pants
• 1 thermal shirts
• 2 long-sleeved long, thin shirts
• 1 v-neck white shirt
• 3 long tanks (1)
• 3 long-sleeved shirts
• 1 legging
• 1 pj pants
• 1 sweatpant
• 1 baggy tee
• 2 jeans
• hoody
• fleece jacket
• 1 comfy long sleeved shirt
• gloves
• hat
• 1 scarf
• sneakers
• combat boots
• 3 wool socks
• 6 socks
• lots of undies
• 3 sports bras
• 1 reg bras
• flip flops

Bath:

• Hairties
• Hairbands
• Face wash
• Bar of soap
• Two shavers
• Toothpaste
• Floss
• Quickdry towel
• Tampons
• Q tips
• Lotion
• Body spray
• Baby wipes
• Face wipes
• Deodrant
• Contact Solution
• Travel size lotion
• Hair brush
• Travel size baby powder
• Contacts
• Dry shampoo

Medicine :

• Womens multivitamins
• Metamucil
• Ibuprofen
• Nasal Spray
• Thermometer
• Zicam
• Dayquill
• Azo
• Travel size tissues
• Birth control
• Cough drops

Misc:

• Converter/Adapter
• Sleeping Bag
• Pillow pet
• Laundry Bag

Office (In tote):

• 3 folders
• 1 subject notebook
• passport holder
• index cards
• sticky notes
• sharpie
• highlighter
• pencils
• lead
• pens
• planner
• Lonely Planet Moroccan Arabic phasebook
• Journal
• Hard drive
• Laptop
• Kindle
• Chargers
• Culture Shock Morocco Book

1 overnight in Philly (business casual) [In backpack]

• flats
• black slacks
• 1 cardigan
• 2 undies
• 1 bra
• 1 nice business tank
• thin winter jacket
• warm scarf

Extra Stuff in Backpack:

• contact case
• diva cup
• camera
• baby powder
• travel sized shampoo and conditioner
• toothbrush
• travel sized toothpaste
• sunglasses
• glasses
• travel sized tissues
• nail stuff (nail trimmers and cuticle trimmer)
• some make up
• 1 scarf
• 1 pair jeans
• 2 long-sleeved shirts
• leggings
• sleeping shirt
• cardigan
• belts
• slippers
• knee brace
• phone
• chargers
• kindle
• comp

Suitcase (That will be stored for training)

Clothes:

• keen hiking boots
• chaco flip flops
• teva sandals
• 2 v-neck cotton tees
• 1 thermal pants
• 1 thermal shirt
• 3 maxi skirts
• 1 yoga pants
• 1 maxi dress
• 1 leggings
• 2 hoodies
• 1 Long Sleeve Comfy Shirt
• 2 Short Sleeved Comfy Shirts
• 2 Long Sleeved Shirts
• 2 Athletic Shorts
• 1 Cami
• 2 tanktops
• 2 long layering tanktops
• 1 bikkini bathing suit (for travel)
• 2 longer tshirts
• 2 cardigens
• 1 thin denim jacket
• 1 scarf
• 2 regular bras
• 1 piece bathing suit

Bath:

• 2 deodorants
• 4 shavers
• 2 toothbrushes
• 1 toothpaste
• 1 travel size shampoo and conditioner
• 1 bar soap
• chapstick (lots)
• travel size lotion
• 2 travel size tissues
• dayquil
• cough drops
• 1 quick dry towel
• contact case
• glasses
• q-tips
• tampons

Kitchen:

• can opener
• oven thermometer
• wine bottle opener
• 8” knife
• veggie peeler

Office:

• duct tape
• scotch tape
• colored markers
• post its
• stapler
• sharpies
• pens
• mounting putty
• scissors

Other:

• 2 small flashlights
• head lamp
• sewing kit
• sunglasses
• surge protector
• Uno
• Scrabble Slam
• Phase 10
• Deck cards
• Yoga mat
• Sketch book and pastels
• Peanut Butter
• Parm Cheese
• Garlic Powder

GIFTS FOR HOST FAMILY

• honey
• strawberry jam
• US calendar

My Peace Corps Timeline

Everybody tells you the application process to the Peace Corps is long but no words prepare you for the waiting game you are about to endure. I only have 38 more days until my adventure but I will never forget months of checking my emails every 5 minutes waiting for my medical clearance or placement questionnaire. I decided to apply to the Peace Corps in September 2013, below is my complete timeline:

10/22/13 – submitted my application

12/04/14 – interview

12/10/13 – nominated

1/09/14 – submitted all my medical work

3/12/14 – pre-medically cleared

4/04/14- legal clearance

5/05/14- received my questionnaire

5/6/14 – turned in my questionnaire

5/7/14- invitation for a Youth Development and English Education Volunteer in Morocco

7/23/14- put on medical hold

11/17/14- taken off medical hold

11/18/14- final medical clearance!

1/12/14- staging date

1/13/14- depart for Morocco!

As you can see, my post-inviation stage was not any easier than waiting for my invitation. I tore my ACL on July 8, 2014, which immediately put me on medical hold. The Peace Corps nurse explained that the general rule is that one must wait at least 6 months post-surgery before their departure date. My departure date was set for January 12, 2015 and my surgery was scheduled for August 29, 2014, that only gave me 4.5 months. After countless hours of physical therapy and stacks of medical forms that I could bury myself with, I was finally medically cleared. I burst out in as much enjoyment when I was medically cleared as when I first received my invitation.