Winter, Reflections on 2009

We can all reasonably expect the New Year to be “different” from the previous year. For me, I have found myself hoping my year will not be as intense as the year before. I guess it is just me wanting my life to slow down. I can honestly say that I thought 2009 would be that nice, easy year.

A year ago I spent New Year’s at a friend’s house with a small group of people. The next day I made the familiar journey back to my house in Marmoucha where I was beginning the first stage of a water project that continues to this day. I taught some lessons in some rural schools before making a trip down to the Marrakech region to snowboard for my birthday. At Ouakaimedden, I bought a snowboard to bring back to Marmoucha and ride the many peaks around my house. I even got to do a first descent on my birthday. That week and those adventures is documented in an earlier entry titled “3 Close Calls.”

My 4th close call was the real thing. Broke my leg, got medically separated from Peace Corps. At this point, I knew 2009 had no plans to make things easy on me.

In the 4 ½ months away from Morocco I had 2 surgeries on my leg. In the healing time, I went to Colombia and Venezuela. This trip allowed me to live day-to-day, forget about my potentially permanent disability, try to forget about losing Morocco, and prove to myself that I could deal with the lows of life the same way I deal with the highs: by myself. A couple months in Latin America and then I was back in the USA. The best part of breaking my leg, and one of the reasons I have found peace with the event was that I got to hang out with my Grandmother while I was home. When I got healthy, I would have a light surf session in the morning in the freezing New Hampshire waves, and then go hang out with my Grandmother. It was perfect.

After months of struggling with Peace Corps, I finally got to return to Morocco. I picked everything back up and it was like I never left. Work went smoothly and I couldn’t help but think everyday that I had missed out on spring and done irreparable damage to my project’s progress for not being there for so long. The regret will always be there. Even as I write, none of that time spent injured and exploring seems real. I can’t believe that happened.

I unintentionally got into a relationship with an American girl here in Morocco. It is not my style to not be single. In October I took a vacation and met this older woman in Barcelona. There is only one way to describe what happened; I fell in love with her. Then I left her in Barcelona and came home to Morocco. I’m really glad it happened because now I know what that feels like. I will never mistake some other feeling for love. Its like having litmus test in my pocket, I will never fake myself out. Unfortunately, she was getting married so yea that didn’t work out.

Summer passed and November came. I went to Cairo to start planning my next life step, which also doesn’t seem real. When I got back my best friend in Morocco closed her service and went back to the USA. Not fun. Later that month I lost my Grandmother to cancer. Though I knew it was coming, and I had been preparing for her death for a long time, when it happened I felt thousands of miles away. I was.

I felt like I was flopping around like a fish. I didn’t know how to feel about being in Morocco, about my work, about my community, or about my future plans to be away from my family again. I expected someone to kind of swoop in and give me advice, put my head right, remind me of who and where I was. I shouldn’t have expected that. As I mentioned in an early blog, when it comes down to it, you have to pick yourself up and you can’t expect to have people help you out of a rut. I guess, if you’re a fish, you have to flop yourself back into the water. Don’t count on any waves to bring you home.

I thought 2009 was going to be just me in my village working and loving Morocco. I had no plans to leave the country, instead I went to the US, Colombia, Venezuela, Spain and Egypt.

Predictions for 2010:I expect 2010 to be calm and restful. I doubt I will learn anything or be tested. Nobody will die or be born. My passport will not acquire any unplanned markings. My body will stop showing signs of age. If I become romantically involved it will end in a long, successful marriage. The weather man will always be right. I will suffer a gunshot wound. I will step confidently onto the icy ledge of life and pass with impunity. Also I will cure AIDs and unfriendliness and design a universally-accepted peace plan for Afghanistan and be rewarded incongruously.

Shameful Blog Negligence

Cairo, 11.20am

I feel awful that I haven't written in so long. Ever since I returned to Morocco I have been using my time to focus my energies locally. I have neglected emails, phone calls, letters, etc.. for no reason other than I really do not feel anything of great interest is happening.

I have been working alot; teaching in the schools and running my Potable Water Security Project. I have been traveling a little bit. I went to Barcelona and had an exceptionally strange emotional experience with a woman. We started a beekeeping cooperative in my village. Now I'm in Cairo at a water management seminar and interviewing for a fellowship. That is all.

I have been learning more Arabic. I can even speak to Egyptians. It is fun and frustrating to go back to feeling like a 6-year-old with language. I remember feeling it when I first got to Morocco and moved into my village. I like this helpless feeling and I also like the rush of excitement when you accomplish something trivial like talking about last night's match.

My leg is better. Everytime I meet a foreigner in Morocco I introduce myself and they inevitably say "Oh you are that guy who...blah blah." This is one way for people to pretend they know me, when they actually just know one weird version of the leg-break story.

Egypt is cool I guess. I came here to figure out if I can live here and be happy, and also to interview for this thing. The University is funny. It is like a fashion show. Thousands of Egypt and the Middle-East's stratospherically-wealthy youth walking around with Lattes and big sunglasses. That part of it makes me want to run away. The fellowship is cool, though. I would be doing similar work to what I do now, but on the research and academic end while gaining my Master's. Sounds Ok.

I had a girlfriend, kind of. I mention that because it has been a really long time since I last "dated" anyone. Anyways that is done.

Morocco is wonderful. One of my best friends, Briana, is leaving and it is a heart-breaker. She is one-in-a-million and she will be missed. Other than that everything in the Kingdom is good. My dog, Maybe, is huge and beautiful. Whitey is healthy and happy. Winter is coming on easy this year. In the spring my parents may come.

Big Call

This past week I had surgery to remove the screw that was holding my leg together. My first unassisted steps since the accident were quite painful, and my leg looks like it belongs on Benjamin Button, but I can walk. With my recovery on track, I have the opportunity to return to Morocco to continue my Peace Corps service.

Good news, right?

Since I broke my leg I have been forced to re-evaluate alot of things in my life. I will not go into all of my conclusions here, but the important ones follow:

-It sounds cheezy but, life doesn't come with a map (but alot of people will try to sell you theirs)
-I will not always come out of things unharmed
-"You're not alone" is BS. When it comes down to it, you absolutely are (but it can be nice to hear)
-Self-determination is the key to my happiness

When I found out I wouldn't be going back to Morocco for a few months, I thought to myself "that doesn't change anything, I'll finish what I started." In fact, I have kept a scrap of paper in my pocket this whole time which has a note that I wrote myself on the plane with reasons why I must return.

But alot can happen in 3+ months. I went to South America, I re-thought some things, I put in some applications for grad and law school, and I found photography.

Peace Corps service is really difficult. You have to learn a couple new languages, a culture, start a new life, make new friends, self-direct work and execute in tough circumstances, integrate and gain acceptance into a skeptical community, just for starters. Being away this long the mind naturally wanders on to the next adventure, and trying to get it back on track to Morocco has proven difficult.

Then I pull that note out of my pocket.

Why I must return
-The kids (the center of my work, and most of my days)
-Larry & Whitey (my dog & cat)
-Ait Hamza (the village where two very awesome friends live)
-Bou Iblane (the mountain)
-Fes
-Tamarmoucht (the local language)

I look at this list and I compare it to a list of other things I could be doing, and I realize that the things I love about Morocco will not wait. Law school, a photographic odyssey through Pakistan, all those other things will.

I have made my decision.

Rediscovering Where I'm From

I love these pictures here. Hate 'em or leave 'em, but I have had a great response from folks who grew up here. I am very happy to represent this area with photographs.


Havehill, MA fire escape


The Tap, Haverhill Brewery

The Lamprey River, downtown Newmarket, NH

Old Factory, Newmarket

Old Factory, Newmarket

Newmarket

Downtown Haverhill, MA

Newfields, NH

More HDR from New Hampshire

I am starting to fall in love with HDR, but I have a tendency to over-do things. I have now processed about 50 images, and 80% of those are way outrageous looking. Here are some examples of appropriate, unoffensive usage.
North Side Park, Hampton, NH. I grew up on this beach. It is still my favorite surf spot, spear-fishing spot, chill spot.

North Side Park
नोढ़ साइड पार्क
The last two photos are of a barn on Newfields Road. I have driven by this barn hundreds of times in my life, and it never gets old.

HDR Photos (Take 1) and Hampton, NH

These are my first attempts at high dynamic range photography. Enjoy, comment, suggest. Let leisure dominate.

The previous photos are of Fort Rock Farm. This Exeter landmark was recently "saved" (sorry for the pun) from a local church that wanted to place a massive church on the grounds. The greenway lobby has successfully fought off this development. Both sides of the story are better told at the conflicting groups' websites below. I love the grass, flowers, and contrails...I could do without the controversy.

http://www.savefortrockfarm.com/

http://www.nhpr.org/node/14120

The next 2 photos are of a place that serves as my soul base when I am in the US. It is my Grandmother's house (the most impressive woman I know and a person old friends still visit without me there) and also where my family assembles for BBQs, drinking, yelling, catfights, and most importantly...beach parties because North Side Park and the best surf break in NH is 400m away.

After years of traveling, moving, different jobs, WWII, 4 boys (including my father), and countless other hurdles; my Grandparents declared--very appropriately for the region--that they were "Done movin', done workin', and Dunfrettin." This mantra is a real part of my approach to life. It is very far away, but a huge source of hope optimism.

Can You Name 619 People?

Facebook is--on balance--is not so lame.

Craigslist facilitates serial sketchiness, rape, murder. As well as the proliferation of offensive (but economical) home design. Unabashed promotion of fat-person sex is not my biggest objection (they are entitled to pleasure outside of that which I assume is rampant at places like Popeye's, Red's Shoe Barn, and public transportation)

Twitter is just terrible. TIME Magazine suggests--quite literally--on Twitter's website that Twitter is "killer."

MySpace is something I will never participate in.

Facebook, unfortunately, is also interested in tolerance. At one point Facebook only allowed certain university students access. Now the ridiculous fat kid with a bowl-cut from junior high that used to threaten to "meet me at the grave YAHD" and beat my face is looking for my Facebook hand in friendship.

He would have been 620.

I started looking through my 619 friends. I decided that, not only do I not have room for #620, but 619 is non-representative of my human asset profile.

I began deleting. Who did I target?

Met you once in a foreign country...X
We had a drink one time...of course not
High School...almost complete, actually
Generic name...sorry
Camps...well, which one, eh?
College friend...you never gave me the $15 to finish that essay.
College friend in Hong Kong...I never gave you that 150HKD that Economics essay.
Generally, if I took more than 0.5S to retrieve your name and face from my memory bank...later.

I recommend it.