Two Months In

Stage is coming to a close… I’m finished with language lessons, passed the language test, exchanged photos/music, drank tea, and seem to just count down the days until I become a real volunteer (again).

Being reflective, I definitely took for granted having three sitemates going through the same experience at the same time with me. Mike took care of transporting the empty butagaz canisters from the house to the refill truck. Seth killed and disposed of bugs that freaked me out in my house. Colleen was always there for long walks and girly talk (actually, so were the other two). Now that I’m used to having other PCVs around me (especially after this CBT experience or a whole day with locals), being the only PCV in an entire region for two years will be interesting. (Oh wait no worries, if I need an American fix, we can travel and I’m getting visitors.)

On Thursday, we have an Official Swearing- In Ceremony in the capital and a fun night out in town (I already have the address to the Mexican restaurant!). The next morning, we’re supposed to find our way to our permanent sites on our own. We won’t be babied anymore.

Today’s the last full day at our training site. It’s hard not to compare this experience with RIM’s last year. Other RIM volunteers might still be thinking, “What? Addresses in the capital? Mexican restaurants?” I’ve really enjoyed the time spent with my host family, but I don’t feel like my community was as warm and hospitable as that of our RIM training site. Despite all the amenities and luxuries, I haven’t made any close local friends to k.i.t. with, attended all-night teenager dance parties (which may be a good thing), or feasted at birthday/wedding celebrations. I can’t think of a local here who would call and wish me good health if I got sick, like all the people who did in RIM. Alhumdullah I didn't get really sick. Although my family were great hosts, I’m just adding them to the list of wonderful people on five different continents who have included me as an adopted family member.

On another note, my Darija language level now is almost the same as my Hassaniya level one year in and my French after 5 years in school. I am confident I can get from Rabat to Boujaad on my own this Friday. Not much shocks me anymore and I’m not afraid to talk to people in the local languages. I have internet access to keep up a blog. My sitemates and teacher have been so amazing to be around, learn from, and laugh with. So are the other SBDers and the YDers I’m looking forward to seeing again. My future site seems great for work potential and meeting new people. The “roughing it” PC experience has yet to hit me. Is PC worth US Govt funding? For taxpayers, I think not; for me, definitely.

This blog entry sounds like everything here is roses and peaches…give me two years and we’ll see what I think. Friends and family (*happy thoughts* to Aunty A at this time) and M, thanks for reading this impersonal/summarized account skimming my experience so far. The hardest part being here is keeping in touch, but at the same time, we seem to just pick up where we left off when we finally do see eachother again. No point really in this random entry except that, photographic proof shows, I can ride a donkey. Insightful details about the Moroccan way-of-life to come another time.