Beggings

I apologize for the delay. Unfortunately, I have had little opportunity to use my computer or access internet. Internet access can be difficult and slow. I haven’t wanted to pull out the computer for many good reasons during my homestay, not only does it scream “touch me!” to little hands, it also is a huge luxury (no matter what country you are in) and there are some things better left alone.

From the beginning, we landed in Casablanca and boarded two large travel buses from the airport, all 61 of us. Our stage has the oldest volunteer yet to serve Peace Corps, she is 84 years old and a great-grandmother. She is by far the sweetest lady in the world and incredibly nimble and quick for her age. We also have another volunteer who is in his early 60s who has served two previous terms for Peace Corps and was successful in both of them. He is a great resource and easy to talk to as well as always prepared (you never know what is going to happen). The majority of us are in our mid-20s, having graduated college and entered the workforce but wanted something more. We also have two couples serving, and it seems like an awesome thing to do with the person you plan on spending your life with, something that will forever be yours to reminisce. Our stage had two groups, Health and Environmental. The next group will come in September, they will be Small Business Development and Youth Development. The SBD and YD groups typically get placed in larger towns where the population would benefit more-so. Health and Environmental are placed in more rural areas, in small communities out in the country. At this point in time, the majority of PCVs serving in Morocco have running water and electricity. There are a few still that have to go to a local well and treat their water or have no electricity, but they are few and far between. My community is in the Gorges Dades, which tends to be a vacation hotspot for adventurous French tourists. It is a beautiful area that resembles parts of Utah and Arizona with its huge desert-like mountains but contracted with the river that cuts through the gorge. On either sides of the river are fields that are harvested, and sitting above them are the small communities. The road follows the river. Occasionally when it rains, there are landslides and the river floods the fields. This can be incredibly devastating to the communities that can be blocked by the hazardous conditions.

I originally stayed in Ouaouzight, a town in the Azilal province of approximately 14,000 people. We arrived in site, all 7 of us and our Language Coordinating Facilitator, Fatoum. Blake, James, Joseph, Falisha, Kaytea, Melissa and I were distributed out to our new host families! I was picked up by a woman smaller than me. Berber women tend to have a certain look: high cheek bones, dark, round eyes, and a caramel brown complexion. Depending on the region of the country (GENERALIZATION), the population gets darker or lighter in skin color. The people of Ouaouizight/Azilal seem to be fairer in complexion than the Ourzazate region (which is to the south). Of course, this makes sense seeing that the French and Spanish influenced the area closer to the coast while populations of middle Africa traveled through the Sahara to get to Morocco. There is some discrimination here regarding race. Darker persons are more discriminated than lighter skinned ones (influence of colonization?). The Berber people were the original inhabitants of Morocco, some were Nomadic and went from mountain to mountain grazing their livestock and some set up small communities. Some of the people in my community still have relatives that live in the caves above our site, it is fascinating.

As Peace Corps Volunteers, we too, are faced with discrimination. Typically if you are a young, white female you get “cat-calls” from guys everywhere you go it seems like. Mistaken as French tourists, we get a good number of sleazy “bonjour gazelle!” and the harassment varies depending on the situation. Of course, even the slightest things we take for granted are taken as reasons to talk to us. Women here cover their heads with headscarves and rarely let their hair show, some of the younger population will have it pulled back and wear a headband. Wearing your hair down and loose invites unwanted attention. Tight clothing is unacceptable, the looser the better, nothing low cut or in the least bit provocative. Wearing make-up is also mistaken as a desire for attention. Where I feel like we like to look a certain way, look presentable, or our usual selves, this is too much. I no longer wear make-up and am having to readdress my wardrobe. Its annoying but necessary.

PCVs are all shapes and sizes and from all different backgrounds. One night in Ourzazate after stopping by the Super Marche to grab a few things for the long ride to site the following morning, we ran into some friendly HCNs (Host Country Nationals), who started asking us where we were from and the like. After being introduced to Nini, a beautiful Asian girl, he starts yelling, “Jackie Chan! Jackie Chan!” and doing ridiculous karate-chop-like moves. He looked ridiculous and did not realize how incredibly offensive he was. Then he saw Naomi, a tall beautiful mixed girl and called her a “basket woman,” and continued making fun of the two. Luckily, together, they burst out laughing and started walking away, affectionately calling each other “Basket Woman” and “Jackie Chan”. My dear friend Falisha, from Ghana, and of Indian descent, has been harassed in a variety of ways, from being called “Hindu” to having people assume she is Muslim, her host mom even told her that she “could see the Prophet Mohammad’s face” in her face. I feel like their discrimination is more painful than ours sometimes, but I guess it all depends on the situation, how you are feeling, what’s been pressing on your mind, stress level, etc.