BLOG ENTRY 2
I just got back from another week in Azrou, my community-based training location. This past week was especially stressful because of the different competencies, tests and interviews that will be conducted during the week of the 13th. The first of these is the Language Proficiency Interview (LPI). I will be sat in a room with a native speaker who is the tester, and he will ask me questions. I will be expected to answer accurately, and then elaborate on these subjects:
Myself, my education, work history, family, age, marital status (why I’m not married yet), purpose for being in Morocco, what I’ve done since I have been here (day by day), what my plans and hopes for the future are, and generally everything about Morocco.
I love the language. It is absolute insanity. The most amazing thing about it for me is the complete lack of vowels. Vowel-less words dominate sentences and many things sound the same. It is incredibly difficult and a lot is expected of me as far as competencies go, but all of that is overshadowed when I see the look on people’s faces when they hear me speaking their native language. People are amazed and ecstatic that an American is trying so hard to speak to them. Recently I was speaking to a group of men sitting at a bar near the Compound and one of them who overheard the conversation pulled me aside, embraced me, and then took my hand and looked right into my eyes and said in perfect English; “I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to hear you speaking my language, thank you.” It was a really special moment for me because I had thought those men didn’t trust me and were suspicious of my presence there. One of my biggest sources of motivation to speak the language is to find out more about these incredibly proud, happy, and friendly people.
Though I have only been here for 6 or 7 weeks, I have been out of the States now for the better part of 4 months. I’m finally starting to gain some perspective on what I left. Its not that I’m homesick, but leaving my life back home happened without me thinking about it. I find myself thinking about all kinds of fun things I did in my last year and all the people I did them with. Now I have a life full of brand new stuff; friends, work, country, schedule, etc. I guess I am just realizing how many big changes happened so quickly. None of it is bad, but I kind of wish I had spent more of the last months in the States taking my leaving more seriously. Eh.
Note* I scored Intermdiate-Low on my Language Proficiency interview, which is great because it is above the level I am expected to be at by May, dadg igi adsawlg Tamazight am Imazhgen! (Now I speak like a Berber!)
Monday, April 14, 2008
Friday, April 4, 2008
Ouarzazate, Training, Notes.
Training thus far has been unlike any process I have previously been a part of. Every minute of the day has been planned and regimented, freedom is limited, language sessions are intense, and opportunities for recreation are scarce. Long sessions focusing on security and external threats can begin to develop a sense within you that every minute of life on assignment will be a risk. We sleep in the same complex that we train in, and venture out into the town—which is essentially a desert outpost—only for limited activities like playing soccer with Moroccan kids. The complex itself is a hotel, but it is guarded by a 30-ft wall and 24-hour gendarmes, or guards.
That all being said it really is exhilarating. There is so much ground and material to cover that something new and practical is always being drilled into us. Though there is a lot of repetition, there exists a sense that the more something is said, the more important it is to keep in mind. Living, eating, training and sleeping in the fortress with a 930 curfew isn’t bad, it is actually an ideal learning environment. It provides the ability to focus solely on the most important part of training; Derija (Moroccan Arabic) and Tamazight (a Berber dialect used in the High Atlas). And while free time is limited, to be honest, there isn’t that much to do in town anyways. Daily trips to the souk and the main square to listen to drums, eat weird snacks, practice language, and play frisbee, soccer, and mill around is enough, and getting to bed is a big priority.
Some notes on Morocco.
Morocco is stunningly beautiful. The northern cities are orderly yet still exotic. The plains of the north rise unabashedly into the Middle, High and Anti-Atlas mountains, which soar up to 13,000 feet. Old villages with kasbahs and minarets dot the countryside and only increase in quaintness and beauty as the mountains rise to the snow. Dry brown canyons are carved by waters that allow trees and flowers and grass to grow at the bottom.
Moroccans are generally friendly, but apprehensive. It is pretty difficult for them to understand that you aren’t simply a tourist, that you live and work here. Trying to explain your status in Morocco leads to curiosity and suspicion about your motivations. Are you CIA? You work for the American government, but you aren’t implementing policy, so what exactly do you do? These questions are hard to answer but after awhile, and avoidance of certain topics (hot political issues, Islamic extremism), Moroccans are happy to welcome you here.
Nights are freezing cold now since it is early spring, but mid-day sun can be very hot and always dry. The difference in temperature between sun and shade is huge, as the air doesn’t hold the heat. Clouds rarely appear in the sky, and the sky is a deep, deep blue.
I spent the week of the 15th to the 22nd in a small town called Azrou to begin studying Tamazight. About 100km from Ouarzazate, Azrou is en route to some of the higher peaks of the central High Atlas. It is a lot of the things I like about Morocco, it has quirky village politics, it doesn’t have much going on, and it is totally foreign and seems backwards to me. Nothing makes sense and nothing happens the way you think it will. Its full of devoted Muslims with old, strange customs. I notice there are tons of contradictions in Azrou. Women would never think of touching a male arm who wasn’t their husband but they have no problem breastfeeding in front of foreigners. Uncleanliness is generally untolerated but simple personal sanitation is intentionally ignored. Locals pride themselves on huge meals and full bellies but malnutrition is widespread due to a sugar and bread diet. As a health worker, it really is fascinating.
The last weeks of February were full of field visits and technical education. The nuts and bolts of the Moroccan Ministry of Health, and our place therein, became an educational priority. Meeting with moudirs, jmae leaders, and other players key to Moroccan business began to open my eyes to what I was being prepared for--culture.
Moroccans drive on the right, eat three meals a day, put their pants on one leg at a time, etc. Moroccans are cool, sensible, very intelligent, enjoy oddities, know how to have fun , etc
Everyday life in Morocco is conducted in such a manner that bears no similarity to what I am used to.
Everything I want to say is misplaced, I am always doing things at the wrong time, and I apologize a lot.
Everything is foreign, and you have to re-learn life. Its awesome.
That all being said it really is exhilarating. There is so much ground and material to cover that something new and practical is always being drilled into us. Though there is a lot of repetition, there exists a sense that the more something is said, the more important it is to keep in mind. Living, eating, training and sleeping in the fortress with a 930 curfew isn’t bad, it is actually an ideal learning environment. It provides the ability to focus solely on the most important part of training; Derija (Moroccan Arabic) and Tamazight (a Berber dialect used in the High Atlas). And while free time is limited, to be honest, there isn’t that much to do in town anyways. Daily trips to the souk and the main square to listen to drums, eat weird snacks, practice language, and play frisbee, soccer, and mill around is enough, and getting to bed is a big priority.
Some notes on Morocco.
Morocco is stunningly beautiful. The northern cities are orderly yet still exotic. The plains of the north rise unabashedly into the Middle, High and Anti-Atlas mountains, which soar up to 13,000 feet. Old villages with kasbahs and minarets dot the countryside and only increase in quaintness and beauty as the mountains rise to the snow. Dry brown canyons are carved by waters that allow trees and flowers and grass to grow at the bottom.
Moroccans are generally friendly, but apprehensive. It is pretty difficult for them to understand that you aren’t simply a tourist, that you live and work here. Trying to explain your status in Morocco leads to curiosity and suspicion about your motivations. Are you CIA? You work for the American government, but you aren’t implementing policy, so what exactly do you do? These questions are hard to answer but after awhile, and avoidance of certain topics (hot political issues, Islamic extremism), Moroccans are happy to welcome you here.
Nights are freezing cold now since it is early spring, but mid-day sun can be very hot and always dry. The difference in temperature between sun and shade is huge, as the air doesn’t hold the heat. Clouds rarely appear in the sky, and the sky is a deep, deep blue.
I spent the week of the 15th to the 22nd in a small town called Azrou to begin studying Tamazight. About 100km from Ouarzazate, Azrou is en route to some of the higher peaks of the central High Atlas. It is a lot of the things I like about Morocco, it has quirky village politics, it doesn’t have much going on, and it is totally foreign and seems backwards to me. Nothing makes sense and nothing happens the way you think it will. Its full of devoted Muslims with old, strange customs. I notice there are tons of contradictions in Azrou. Women would never think of touching a male arm who wasn’t their husband but they have no problem breastfeeding in front of foreigners. Uncleanliness is generally untolerated but simple personal sanitation is intentionally ignored. Locals pride themselves on huge meals and full bellies but malnutrition is widespread due to a sugar and bread diet. As a health worker, it really is fascinating.
The last weeks of February were full of field visits and technical education. The nuts and bolts of the Moroccan Ministry of Health, and our place therein, became an educational priority. Meeting with moudirs, jmae leaders, and other players key to Moroccan business began to open my eyes to what I was being prepared for--culture.
Moroccans drive on the right, eat three meals a day, put their pants on one leg at a time, etc. Moroccans are cool, sensible, very intelligent, enjoy oddities, know how to have fun , etc
Everyday life in Morocco is conducted in such a manner that bears no similarity to what I am used to.
Everything I want to say is misplaced, I am always doing things at the wrong time, and I apologize a lot.
Everything is foreign, and you have to re-learn life. Its awesome.
Monday, March 10, 2008
MarhbaBikum en LMgrib
Whoa.
First ten days in Maroc have been crazy. Flew in from NYC to Casa to Rabat where training began immediately-from security briefings, language, money, and schedule to rules, culture, terrorism, and shopping.
From Rabat we bussed the 8 hours over the snowy Atlas mountains to our training base. Language training in Derija (Moroccan Arabic) began in short order. Sessions start at about 8am and last til 6ish; with a 930 curfew. After next week the cycle between this training site and a remote site will begin, and will continue for 10 weeks. After that, enshallah, I will be sworn in and move somewhere permanently.
For now, the stress of training is easily offset by the physical beauty of Morocco and the fun-loving kindness of its people.
barakhlahifuk.
First ten days in Maroc have been crazy. Flew in from NYC to Casa to Rabat where training began immediately-from security briefings, language, money, and schedule to rules, culture, terrorism, and shopping.
From Rabat we bussed the 8 hours over the snowy Atlas mountains to our training base. Language training in Derija (Moroccan Arabic) began in short order. Sessions start at about 8am and last til 6ish; with a 930 curfew. After next week the cycle between this training site and a remote site will begin, and will continue for 10 weeks. After that, enshallah, I will be sworn in and move somewhere permanently.
For now, the stress of training is easily offset by the physical beauty of Morocco and the fun-loving kindness of its people.
barakhlahifuk.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Packing for a 27-Month Trip Packing is usually quite easy for me. I get alot of practice at it and I have learned a couple tricks to streamline the process (like packing everything, taking half of it out, and doubling the number of socks). Unfortunately those tricks don't work when you're not really packing, but moving.
The last time I had to pack for a long-term thing was for my semester in Hong Kong. I remember standing with my best friend over my pile of luggage trying to figure out if I had forgotten anything. I hadn't. I cursed the amount of crap I brought and learned a valuable lesson about possessions; they are totally replaceable and available wherever you're going. Also I learned that any sort of "sentimental" stuff which is packed will inevitably be regretted. The tendency you have is to think "I can't go for long without my massive wool sweater" and you end up packing it. If you were to simply throw the sweater into the closet, you would forget about it until you return from the trip and rediscover it and love it again. If you bring it, you realize its inefficiencies and flaws and desire it out of your life. Thus the approach must be focused on limits; pack half what you're allowed, give yourself some draft, and bring extra socks.
I got everything for Africa to fit into one large bag, my trekking backpack, and my Marine bag. Clothing went in the big bag, necessities like books, duct tape, flashlights, etc went in the trekking bag, and electronics went in my carry-on. Easy. I plan on buying a few things in Morocco, including just about everything having to do with home life.
This last week has been uneventful, mostly just a long stretch of strange feelings about leaving, none of which were sheer excitement, nor fear, nor apprehension. I don't know how to quantify it, but it seems to fit somewhere between a sense of foreboding and general peace with the understanding that much of the next few months is going to be packed with patently fascinating difficulty.
The last time I had to pack for a long-term thing was for my semester in Hong Kong. I remember standing with my best friend over my pile of luggage trying to figure out if I had forgotten anything. I hadn't. I cursed the amount of crap I brought and learned a valuable lesson about possessions; they are totally replaceable and available wherever you're going. Also I learned that any sort of "sentimental" stuff which is packed will inevitably be regretted. The tendency you have is to think "I can't go for long without my massive wool sweater" and you end up packing it. If you were to simply throw the sweater into the closet, you would forget about it until you return from the trip and rediscover it and love it again. If you bring it, you realize its inefficiencies and flaws and desire it out of your life. Thus the approach must be focused on limits; pack half what you're allowed, give yourself some draft, and bring extra socks.
I got everything for Africa to fit into one large bag, my trekking backpack, and my Marine bag. Clothing went in the big bag, necessities like books, duct tape, flashlights, etc went in the trekking bag, and electronics went in my carry-on. Easy. I plan on buying a few things in Morocco, including just about everything having to do with home life.
This last week has been uneventful, mostly just a long stretch of strange feelings about leaving, none of which were sheer excitement, nor fear, nor apprehension. I don't know how to quantify it, but it seems to fit somewhere between a sense of foreboding and general peace with the understanding that much of the next few months is going to be packed with patently fascinating difficulty.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Next?
I am completing my Costa Rica-Nicaragua-Costa Rica loop, finishing it off with a visit to Puerto Viejo de Talamanca, CR. I have an unsure feeling about the end of this trip, I have had unforgettable experiences one after the other, mostly set in Nicaragua. My trip started off crappy, with a disillusioning set of experiences with Ticos in northern CR, and continued with the robbery on my birthday in San Juan Del Sur, Nicaragua. Now I´m back in touristed-out Costa Rica and can´t help but feel that the best is definitely over. Costa Rica is full of lame spring-break like travelers looking to book tours and overpay for mediocre experiences like canopy tours, sub-par beaches, and tame volcanoes.
So I am begining to realize that Costa Rica was certainly the wrong place to start and end this trip, but it was so much cheaper to fly in here compared to any other Central American city. One thing CR does remedy is that feeling that you don´t want your trip to be over, since I am somewhat looking forward to leaving the 51st State of behind.
Another good thing about Costa Rica being lame is that now I´m looking to the future as I hadn´t during the rest of my trip. I haven´t thought too much about Morocco, or the next two years. Now, looking forward, I am STOKED about all of the change and adventure I have ahead. The action-packed nature of the next few weeks really excites me.
I am working on getting my photos online, it seems like the only option is to wait for the States to get them on, bandwidth here is proving to be a problem.
So I am begining to realize that Costa Rica was certainly the wrong place to start and end this trip, but it was so much cheaper to fly in here compared to any other Central American city. One thing CR does remedy is that feeling that you don´t want your trip to be over, since I am somewhat looking forward to leaving the 51st State of behind.
Another good thing about Costa Rica being lame is that now I´m looking to the future as I hadn´t during the rest of my trip. I haven´t thought too much about Morocco, or the next two years. Now, looking forward, I am STOKED about all of the change and adventure I have ahead. The action-packed nature of the next few weeks really excites me.
I am working on getting my photos online, it seems like the only option is to wait for the States to get them on, bandwidth here is proving to be a problem.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Change of Pace
The last few months of my life have been relatively fast-moving. Alot of things have changed and changed quickly, from graduating to moving away from Washington, to starting a new chapter in life, it has all been very sudden. This all changed when I got to Nicaragua.
Many times I find myself rushing through countries, trying to see as much of it as I can and stretching myself thin. On this trip I planned on going to El Salvador and maybe Honduras for awhile, but instead I have just been slowly drifting around Nicaragua. It has been quite pleasant.
I find that this trip has been different than my two previous visits to Latin America, chiefly because of two things:
One, I speak alot more Spanish than I did the first two times I came, and
two, I have been staying for a long time in every place I go. Language and time has opened up so many doors.
I thought I had essentially done it all in Latin America, I felt like a veteran. Now I am realizing how much I missed out on the first two times. Everyday I am getting invited into houses and for meals, getting a tour from a local guy who is eager to show me his country, or finding little barrios and pueblos around the city which I would previously avoid.
I spent 6 days in Esteli, Nicaragua and the day that I left, on my way to the bus station I was waved to, smiled at, invited for coffee, food, etc, countless times. Time and language has let me begin to know Nicaragua and Nica people, rather than just visit. I cannot believe how much I learn everyday about life, history, culture, food, attitude, politics, and all the rest with the help of just a few friendly local people.
I have always believed that travel is the best way to spend your time and money, and everyday I spend in Nicaragua gives me more reasons to think that way.
It is simply wonderful.
Many times I find myself rushing through countries, trying to see as much of it as I can and stretching myself thin. On this trip I planned on going to El Salvador and maybe Honduras for awhile, but instead I have just been slowly drifting around Nicaragua. It has been quite pleasant.
I find that this trip has been different than my two previous visits to Latin America, chiefly because of two things:
One, I speak alot more Spanish than I did the first two times I came, and
two, I have been staying for a long time in every place I go. Language and time has opened up so many doors.
I thought I had essentially done it all in Latin America, I felt like a veteran. Now I am realizing how much I missed out on the first two times. Everyday I am getting invited into houses and for meals, getting a tour from a local guy who is eager to show me his country, or finding little barrios and pueblos around the city which I would previously avoid.
I spent 6 days in Esteli, Nicaragua and the day that I left, on my way to the bus station I was waved to, smiled at, invited for coffee, food, etc, countless times. Time and language has let me begin to know Nicaragua and Nica people, rather than just visit. I cannot believe how much I learn everyday about life, history, culture, food, attitude, politics, and all the rest with the help of just a few friendly local people.
I have always believed that travel is the best way to spend your time and money, and everyday I spend in Nicaragua gives me more reasons to think that way.
It is simply wonderful.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
For the Love of Gallo Pinto
Nicaragua is fascinating in as many ways as you wish. I credit myself with describing Nica land as the Wonderfully Destinationless Destination. It is desperately poor and inconvenient and dirty and dangerous. At the same time it hides the last of CA`s treasures.
As the cheapest place in the hemisphere, Nicaragua had a jumpstart on the race for my heart. But just being cheap and dirty doesnt make you cool. Nicaragua knows that.
Costa Rica tries to keep it real, but Nicaragua will always be more real. Costa Rica is as expensive as the States, with only the advantage of cheap accomodation and short distance in between medicocre destinations. Nica doesn´t care about the tourist. And that´s whats cool.
The biggest and best waves in CA, the most undistrubed cloud forests, the best food, the most refined accomodation for below 7USD, the smallest distances with the biggest differences, etc.
Gallo Pinto belongs in Nicaragua, and so does my heart.
As the cheapest place in the hemisphere, Nicaragua had a jumpstart on the race for my heart. But just being cheap and dirty doesnt make you cool. Nicaragua knows that.
Costa Rica tries to keep it real, but Nicaragua will always be more real. Costa Rica is as expensive as the States, with only the advantage of cheap accomodation and short distance in between medicocre destinations. Nica doesn´t care about the tourist. And that´s whats cool.
The biggest and best waves in CA, the most undistrubed cloud forests, the best food, the most refined accomodation for below 7USD, the smallest distances with the biggest differences, etc.
Gallo Pinto belongs in Nicaragua, and so does my heart.
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