Telling time in Morocco

I have now been here in Morocco for 18 months, with only 7ish left.  When I think about it like that I can’t believe it… the time has flown by.  But then when I sit down and actually think about all the things that have happened over these 18 months… I feel like I’ve been here forever.  This is home. People here always ask if I’m tmirt (settled).  My new joke (jokes here are typically pretty lame… think grandpa jokes that everyone laughs at but no one thinks is funny) is that yes, I’m mirġ. I’m half Moroccan and half American- this is half of my home!  People love it, but it’s kinda true.  These people have welcomed me into their homes, their country and treated me like one of their own.  And I’m so blessed to be able to have this experience.

Over the last 18 months I’ve realized there are many ways to tell time… for example, I can tell the time in weeks by the amount of henna that has grown out of my nails, I can usually tell the approximate time of day by the amount of sunlight out or the call to prayers, I can tell what month it is based on the crops growing in the fields, I can tell the day of the week based on the freshness of fruits/veggies at my vegetable guys store, or if its Sunday because its Souk, I can tell if it’s a week day (usually if there are no strikes) by seeing if the kids are playing outside my house or not…. I feel like we have these clues to the time of day, day of the week and month in America but do we ever stop to notice them? 

I often tell people at home that I feel like I’ve learned more from my experience here or from my community than I ever think I could hope to teach them (cliché but true).  One of the biggest things this country has taught me is patience and to stop and enjoy life.  I remember having my schedule down to pretty much every minute of the day in America… and here if I have one small task to do in the day it’s gonna be a good day.  I have the time to stop and have tea with women in the fields, its ok to have tea and basic conversation with the men I’m meeting with for a project before we even speak a word of work, it’s not uncommon for me to go to Souk to buy just milk and end up spending hours talking to all the store owners along the way (and forget to buy the milk), waiting for a taxi or bus for hours is just how it is, or having a counterpart show up an hour late for a meeting is just… that.  When I first got here to Morocco things like this drove me crazy, I was in my America-get work done- mindset.  And I’m not going to lie, sometimes I fall back into that and get a bit stir crazy waiting over an hour for people to show up and a taxi to leave, but Morocco has taught me to appreciate the moment.  Like a good friend of mine once told me “I know it’s hard but really just try to enjoy your time there because it will be over. And then it’s over.  Your home will always be here.”  I don’t know if she knows how much that meant to me, but that quote has been with me since the day she sent it.

Also in relation to time, I feel like in the beginning months here in Morocco I sort of ‘wished my time away.’  It’s not that I wasn’t loving my time here, but it’s hard sometimes- I miss America, my friends, family, the food, my independence and freedom to do or say whatever I wanted.  I still have moments like this- I don’t think I’ve ever been such rollercoaster of emotions as I am here.  I will literally have to force myself to leave the house one day, dread speaking to people along the way and then somewhere in the walk a flip switches and I end up wanting to talk to anyone and everyone along the way- about the weather, about Lily, about life… and end up spending hours in Souk talking to men and walk home on clouds mystified that I live HERE- with the beautiful mountains in the background, walking through postcard like fields and rivers to get home to my crazy dog barking on the roof of my mud house.  Now I have less than 7 months left and I’m grasping at time for dear life.  Don’t get me wrong- I’m excited at the idea of going back to America but this whole experience- all the amazing people I’ve met along the way, all the work I’ve had the privilege of doing… the thought of leaving that really does make me sad.

Well dear readers of mine- my tummy just growled (another way to tell the time) so lunch must be made.  Until next time….

Just another day...

First of all-- I survived my second Ramadan!  It’s now been over a month since it ended and boy am I glad it’s over.  It was a great experience fasting with my community though- I got very mixed responses from people when I told them I was fasting.  Some people were excited and gave me praise, told me to sit and rest or invited me to breakfast with their families, others called me a liar and made me prove to them I was fasting (which was ok sometimes, but when I was extra hungry/thirsty this response didn’t put me in a good mood) and others thought I was crazy for fasting when I didn’t have to.  I ended up breaking my fast a few days early, since I had a friend come to visit and since he wasn’t fasting I didn’t want to continue.  But I successfully fasted for 23 days!!

Lots has been going on here work-wise.  Its weird going from almost a year of begging people for work to not being able to go to Souk without being bothered for a new project or idea.  The desk project is ALMOST complete—yes, I know… I’ve been saying this for a WHILE.  But that’s just how things goes around here.  The blackboards are the last items that need to be delivered and I’ve been bothering the carpenter about them for weeks but INCHALLAH that will get done this week.  (IT DID!  I finally got the last receipts and its all DONEEEEE!)  The project for the Sanitation System is coming along slowly… all the supplies were purchased over Ramadan and digging for the pipes and pits has begun.  I hope to make it to the village soon to check in on things.

I have two new sitemates!  Long story here that I won’t get into, but it’s great for the community since we will be the last volunteers in the area.  So there are now 4 Americans roaming the dirt roads of Tidili- haha!  Team Tidili!!!  Here is a story about house-hunting for my new site mates…. Think about this next time you go on Craigslist or to a relator for a new place to rent :)

So we (myself, Alexa and Leighanne) heard there was a house available in a village about 8 K down the road and wanted to go check it out.  We were told to go to Souk (the main center) at 4 oclock and assumed this meant that we would be getting a ride.

• 4:00 pm- SO we show up, talk talk talk, learn about another project that the people in the community, drink a little tea, yada yada.
• 5:00 pm- We are finally are shown to a transit with about 10 others. This must be the worlds S-L-O-W-E-S-T transit.  A ride that should have taken us about 15 minutes probably took about 40. Along the way the driver is pointing out all the towns along the way… beautiful ride up though!
• 6:00 pm- We are dropped off at a café and ask if this is the village with the house to rent.  We’re told its not and that we have to walk through another village to get to it-no biggie, right?  An older man offers to walk us to the village but then hands us off to a kid about 5 minutes into the walk.  The teenager is then instructed to bring us to the house that’s for rent.
• 6:30 pm-  After climbing through a village we arrive, tired, to discover the man who is supposed to show us the house isn’t around.  We are directed to the teenagers house instead.
• 7:00 pm- We decide we cant wait any longer, its getting dark and we need to get back.  So we start walking- very quickly- to the main road to try and stop some sort of transit to take us home.  Along the way, though, everyone keeps inviting us in for tea or to stay the night.  We try to explain we need to get home but everyone tells us we’ll never find transport so we should just stay.  We don’t want to… so we keep on keepin on.
• 7:30 pm- We reach the road and start waving down anything and everything that passes.  It’s starting to get really cold by now, and we’re starting to get really worried… finally we hail down a truck and get thrown in with about 15 other men (literally, most of them were hanging off the truck, but since we were ladies we were able to sit in the bed).  Oh yeah, and there are a few cows in the truck too…. I wish I took at a picture, but it didn’t seem appropriate at the time.  During the car ride every single man asks me to marry him, and one of the guys even gives me an extra jacket he has to keep me warm. (I got to keep the jacket, so at least I got something outta it all!) I talk to the guys the whole 20 minutes ride home- quite an interesting conversation…. We discussed how (in my perspective) men in Morocco don’t have it as tough as the ladies, how far/big America is, how a lot of people in America go to college (even girls, like me!) but not many from my area will…. You get the jest. 
• 8:00 pm- The truck finally arrives at a village about a kilometer from my house so after arguing about a price, we get out and start walking home with our phone flashlights to my house. 
• 8:20 pm- We finally get home, laughing about the day.  Alexa and Leighanne then decide to start making something for dinner.  I have most of my food stashed in a bamboo dresser to keep the mice out, but recently they had got tricky so I had the dresser closed with rope to keep the creatures out….. but just as Leighanne opens the dresser a mouse LEAPS out at her.  I hear screaming in the kitchen to find them both in the corner- the mice have chewed through the BACK of the dresser.  Everything is now is thick plastic bins around my kitchen……..

….. Welcome to my life :)