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Published: December 22nd 2005
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(Welcome new people! If you don't know what this blog is all about please check my previous entries for a full explaination.)
Well it's official. I've been here a long time, but I still have a loooooong way to go.
The first 3 1/2 weeks in site have been incredible in every sense of the word. It's been fun, sad, interesting, depressing, educational, frustrating, satisfying, and most of all exhausting. On an almost daily basis I run the entire gamut of human emotions as my mental state attempts to stabilize itself despite the endless influx of new data to process. Attempting to adjust my habits to fit into the deeply ingrained daily routines of the villagers requires almost constant attention, and on the occasions when I do forget to watch what I'm doing, I can be sure that someone else is. Being the only American in town means I'm somewhere inbetween being everyone's best friend and a one-man side-show attraction.
Needless to say, I have found quite an adventure for myself.
Challenge number one was aquiring my Carte de Sejour, a Moroccan ID that foreigners are required to carry if their stay lasts more than 3 months.
During the first week I was here I made daily trips up to the gendarmerie to turn in the staggering amount of information required by the application process. The upside of this is that I'm now friendly with almost all of the gendarmes as well as several store owners that I passed each day on my route.
Having finally received my recipicie (a temporary Carte while my real one is being issued) I turned my attention the Dar Chebab. In my naiveté, I assumed that there would be dozens of eager children thirsting for the knowledge I had provide (not an entirely fanciful hope given the reception I and my fellow trainees had found in Skhinet). As it turns out the kids that go to the Dar Chebab in Ouaouizarth, while very nice and energetic, didn't seem to have any idea what I was doing in their town. Initial attempts to advertise for my class left me sitting in an empty classroom practicing my Arabic with the assistant mudir and wondering if anyone had seen the signs that the mudir had put up. When I explained the situation to him he seemed, to my great consternation, relatively unconcerned about
my lack of students. He spent a great deal of time trying to break through what he perceived to be my Western sense of industriousness and my urgency to get started, encouraging me to be patient.
Rural Morocco is a place where nothing happens to the satifaction of an American used to instant gratification. Even the gendarmes couldn't understand why I sometimes asked them if I could come back to see them later in the day, always telling me "gdda, gdda" ("tomorrow, tomorrow"). My attempts to understand and accept this have led me to the cafés where men my age and older tend to spend most of their free time. Dozens of them crowd into these French style coffee shops each night to watch big soccer matches or important news events, but even during the day one is never alone in the café as it are a refuge for the numerous unemployed villagers. Many of my most eye-opening hours have been spent slowly nursing a cup of coffee or tea while listening to men talk about politics, religion, music, language, and, their favorite topic, the centuries long cultural and economic disenfranchisement of the Berber peoples, the indeginous tribes that
are spread all across north Africa.
Berber pride runs deep here but it is undermined by a sense of lost dignity and tradition which is only enhanced by the lack of domestic opportunity. Most young people see leaving Morocco as their only hope for social and economic advancement, making it difficult for people like me to encourage them to try to work to improve their own country. An obvious solution to the problem would seem to be that a portion of the educated but unemployed should leave, make their fortunes in the outside world, and then reinvest in their home country. To some degree this is already happening but there aren't enough visas available, presumably because the local government fears that their best and brightest might not come back once allowed to leave, and foreign governments don't want to hand all their jobs to immigrants while they have unemployment problems of their own. The result of this is that droves of men, young and old, who can't find work instead while away the hours in the comfort of the cafés, interrupted only by occasional sortiés out into the street in search of cigarettes or funny-looking Americans.
Despite the
obvious difficulty of trying to do community development in an environment such as this, I have at last (I believe) found some reliable students. Taking matters into my own hands I headed to the local schools, pool halls, and cyber-cafés in order to spread the word about my classes. Flanked by my host brothers I spent most of today walking around town, building my following. The most amusing moment came when I was talking to 2 or 3 of my brothers friends in the town center. Within no less than a minute I found myself surrounded by a mob of at least 40 school aged children all wanting to know what the American was up to. As I passed out flyers and my brother explained my intentions to the crowd I at last felt a sense that I might be able to accomplish something in this town.
I'm begining to realize that, although it's hard to hear, what my mudir told me about having patience is right on target. As a foreigner I need to take a little (or maybe a lot of) time getting to know the people in my community and the way they operate before I
try to start instituting my programs and spreading my ideas. Peace Corps is about participatory development so unless I can match the pace of the Moroccans I won't be able to work with them effectively. It's also a great excuse to sit and talk to my new friends for hours on end 😊
Regardless of my frustrations I've also had many wonderful moments since I got here. I'm building some real friendships, both with members of my family and with men I've met in the café. I've also had the chance to visit other volunteers in the area on my weekends, which is a welcome break. The food is delicious, the landscape is breathtaking, and the time before me is mine to try anything I can think of to spread peace and hope. Keeping that in mind helps to sustain me in my darkest moments and will hopefully result in an overall successful Peace Corps experience.
Finally, here again is a list of people whose emails I would like to add to my list. Some of you have very kindly supplied these emails, but for whatever reason they haven't been working. If you know that someone on this
list has changed email addresses please let me know so I can update my address book. Thanks!
Joe Niessink
Kristin Niessink
John Reese
John Murphy
Cecil Thomas
Adam Townsend
Jack Rothschild
Emilio Conde
Ginny Raynor
Andrew Babcock
Catharine Dawkins
I hope you are all doing great back home! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to everyone. I'll be thinking of you all as I spend the holiday with some of my new friends. B'Salama!
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Heather
non-member comment
right on target
You have nothing to worry about Rich, as long as you are happy and making other people happy you are doing good work! I'm glad to see you are adapting to the Moroccan sense of time, I am having a lot of fun in Kelaa just taking things slow and drinking lots of tea.