Schweeya

These past two weeks, the newest Health and Environment Sector-Morocco has been congregating in Azrou, a small city in the Atlas Mountains. Divided up into our respective congregations, the health stag stayed in one hotel and the environment, another, all the way across town. No hotels in the area could accommodate both groups, culminating approximately 59 volunteers plus 5-6 Peace Corps staff. It was unfortunate to say the least. The health group has gotten closer and we have become better friends with each other, as has the environment group, but mixed together, not so much. Groups before us have had lots of time during training to get to know each other well and develop lasting relationships. Despite our high success at acquiring the language and adapting quickly to the culture, we are suffering in our support networking. Alas, I do not think that Peace Corps will change their protocol too much from this latest revision. There have been a few suggestions, like housing all of us together for the first two weeks to develop the foundation of the language and have a few vital culture sessions. Afterwards, we would divide up and spend a month or so with a host family for our CBT training. Then we could at least talk to our family just a little bit, with basic introductions. My CBT host family thought I was from Germany for the first two days, “Alemania? Alemania??” I remember distinctly. (Which makes me question Peace Corps thoroughness of explaining to host families who and what our roles are…)

Luckily, this past weekend, a few of us got together to hang out and spend our time off in a beautiful area 45 minutes outside of Azrou. Nestled in the mountains, with the backdrop of two gorgeous waterfalls, we stayed in a Bed & Breakfast type of hotel. One of the chicks from Enviro was celebrating her birthday and asked the concierge at her hotel for some suggestions as to where to go site-seeing and spend the night with a group of friends. Group of 17. Word gets around quickly and it was an open invitation. This hotel was actually a house with two open rooms that they had cleared out and lined with ponjs. We shared the bathroom with the family. A number of us slept outside the room, in an open courtyard area for a reduced rate. The village was incredible. The waterfalls were fed by a river and the river and all its man-made diversions flowed throughout the village. We went on a hike to go find the local swimming hole. Titrit and I stayed behind to wait on our two slow-poke friends, AP and Sarah. Well, inevitably we get separated. I felt inclined to go right when our friends had actually went left. Things work out despite and we went on an unbelievable hike. We climbed up to one of the waterfalls and got as close as possible, getting soaking wet. Four Half-clothed girls, arms outstretched, in the middle of Morocco, out in a tiny village, we embraced mother nature and all her beauty. It was overwhelming and satisfying.

We hiked on, trying to find the source and hopefully, our friends. We found blackberries, climbed through some small streams(creek stompin’), and reached the top of the mountain. We found a cow and an empty field. Our friends were nowhere in sight. We started back down, hoping that once we got back into town, we could use our Darija speaker to get directions to the swimming hole. Of course, all we had to do was follow the kids in swimming trunks with towels slung over their shoulders. On our way we intercepted the rest of our group, looking a bit tired and worked over. We had been out for close to 2 ½ hours on our hike, and they said they had just gotten rid of their fo-guide (pseudo) and were ready to head back home. We decided to check out the area for ourselves. Going down an eroding switchback we made it to the swimming hole, a small dammed up section of the river. We decided to trek up a bit, looking for a more private spot where we could hang out, get wet and discreetly break out our bottles of gin and vodka. Once again, the euphoria consumed my thoughts, my emotions, my being. I was just at a state of bliss. It’s hard to describe. It happens around once every other day. My surroundings and recent experiences invade my thoughts and I just become incredibly thankful for my circumstances. I am in a beautiful and interesting country. I question, I accept, I understand. Much of what I want to do here depends on my motivations and abilities to develop relationships. A lot of that comes with time, with language learning, with understanding the best way to assess my community and develop a sustainable project.

That night we ate tajine and started into our sangria that we had made (fresh peaches, grapes, oranges, and our recent addition of blackberries). The family had prepared a cake for Sarah’s birthday. It was delicious. Everyone was having a great time, we were dancing and singing, playing cards and having in-depth conversations. Around midnight or so, groups had split up into a dance party, a star-gazing party, and a swim party. Eventually all groups made it down to the river to do what we know how to do best, skinny-dipping. Now, some dissenters may think this is one of the most illogical ideas to do, but to us, it was ingenious. There was a wedding going on in the middle of the village, people were out and about, people were drinking (both Moroccans and Americans) No one noticed us walk down to the river, on the outskirts of town. It was dark and there was a half-moon, enough light to kind of see where the path stopped and the river started. There was no discussing it, it was all or nothing and we went all out. I was with a group of 5 other people. The river was ice cold and felt amazing. The stayed in long enough to go numb and quickly got out and back into our clothes. No harm, no foul. My night ended quickly once we got back to the house, I curled up into the blanket I had borrowed from our hotel and fell asleep.

The next morning we slowly woke up. Some of us were hurting, some of us were ok. We rehashed the nights events over watermelon I had bought. Sweet and juicy, it hit the spot and needs to be advertised as the perfect morning-after food. We eventually got taxis and made it back into Azrou. Recovery included a long nap in our big bed, the three of us; Titrit, AP and I. We are solid. I am the youngest at 24, Titrit is 26 and AP is 28 years old. We are all CBT site-mates. Titrit is from Denver but has spent a lot of time living in Sante Fe. She is a self-defense instructor, yoga guru and has a great laugh. She is a strong woman who quietly analyzes people and situations. She recently cut her hair to about half-inch and looks awesome. She is one of the few people who can pull off that look, not just pull it off but look awesome. AP was in Ameri-Corps previous to Peace Corps, teaching middle and high school students sexual health. She specialized in peer educators and is passionate about STI and HIV education. Her background is Gyanese and she is beautiful. She is also very strong and has strong opinions, never shying away from voicing them. A dancer in a previous life, she is graceful and loves attention. The three of us have a great balance, a lot of reason, and like to soundboard observations, ideas, and basic PCV gossip. Don’t tell us anything that you wouldn’t want the three of us knowing. We are each other’s support network and a family. I live closest to Titrit near Tingrir, AP lives the farthest away near Midelt. Luckily, we are on the same side of the country and neither one of us are in the far south or along the coast. Hopefully, we will be spending Thanksgiving together at Titrit’s house (aka Brokedown Palace as she likes to call it) at her site. AP is working on putting together intramural province games and I think Titrit and I will head up the Ourzazate Province Team. We probably won’t dominate, but I think overall we stand a chance against some of the other teams. Games start after Ramadan, rugby has been suggested but I vetoed it. I think we should stick to safe games like ultimate Frisbee, softball, kickball and the like. I recently have been in touch with some of my former teammates and it looks like Ireland for next spring break. I’m going to get in rugby shape for that trip. Trust me, I’m there.