the birds will sing that you are part of everything

I've lapsed yet again with my blog postings, apologies.

The last two weeks (in Morocco we say 15 days rather than two weeks, which kind of bothers me because a week is only 7 days long and, well, you get the picture) I was in the Middle Atlas, cooped up with 33 of my best friends in Morocco doing a follow-up session to Pre-Service Training. Do these sentences even make sense? I feel like I can't write anymore and it makes me sad.

I'm back home now, a little lonely and detoxing from a possible parasite I picked up in Fes, yet altogether motivated to get more integrated in the life here and get some hardcore youth developin' up and runnin'.

One of the hardest things for me with regard to adjusting to life here is finding a balance between "me" and "me as a Peace Corps Volunteer." I feel guilty when I stay in my house under blankets, surfing the internet and just talking to Andy, but then again I have to admit that life outside my little America can be really exhausting and scary. I was just reading a blog from my friend Ben where he talked about how life in another culture lacks the mundane, and that can be really horrible sometimes. Simple tasks like buying milk become stressful. Instead of ambling hand in hand down a sunny DC street to the supermarket, grabbing some milk and paying with currency you understand, milk runs in Morocco involve complex greetings and questions about my health, children staring at me while I speak Arabic, and fumbling while I convert the mul hanut's (store owner's) quoted price (in ryals) into dirhams. Everyone in the Peace Corps side of Morocco uses ryal instead of dirham, and in order to pay for anything correctly you have to divide the ryal price by 20. For instance, if the milk costs 2.5 D, the mul hanut will ask me for 50 ryals. In short, FML.

Anyway, I am slowly but surely gaining the courage to fight for my personal space. Sure, I will come to your house for lunch and then tutor your daughter next Sunday, but there is no way in hell I am going to the hemmam with you on Monday, because Monday is my one day where I have no reason to even leave my bed if I don't feel like it. Yes, I'd love to drink tea with you but no, I will not spend the night here.

Sometimes I read the blogs of the incoming Enviro/Health stage (mahriba bikum lmghrib!) and I think if I had any advice to give I'd say to start out by accepting every invitation to do ANYTHING at first. Eat everything, go everywhere, talk to everyone. Then, as you start to figure out your own needs, back off when you need to, and don't feel bad about it. I say this realizing fully that no one ever asked me for advice.

Something completely different: My vacay to Europe is coming up quick and boy howdy I could not be more excited. I'll have finished Spring Camp by then and hopefully will have gotten an exercise club up and running. Inchallah. Slowly, slowly slowly, I'm figuring my shit out. The best part is I think after two years here I will no longer be afraid to do anything.