Adventures of a Twentysomething: CBT Phase 1

I had this really long report on Phase 1 of CBT typed up and ready to be posted but it was 6 pages long, so I condensed it but it is still longish…

For the past 9 days, I have been living in an adobe hut in a very small, very poor town on the edge of the High Atlas Mountains and the Sahara without running water and very little ability to speak the local language but it has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. Peace Corps has rules concerning blogs and the internet so I am not sure what all information I can post here. To be on a safe side, I am not going to mention the name of the village. There is no use in trying to describe it either because I cannot give accurate descriptions of this amazing little hamlet. Even if I did, I don’t think anyone would believe me. It is hard to holdback tears when I think about the villagers’ tough, brutal lives. This isn’t TV. This is Africa in the flesh.

One of the thoughts that entered my head upon arrival from Ouarzazate was “I am pretty sure I couldn’t live here for two years.” My first day was difficult, to say the least. My language skills were nowhere near where they needed to in order to communicate. L-ftur, the break fast meal, was my first eating experience and it was a relatively silent occasion. My host family would talk to me; I would say “I don’t understand” in Darija; they would laugh at me. Finally, I just went into my room for some alone time. I really needed it. One of the resolutions I made to myself when I left for Morocco was to never end the day on a sour note. Both Voice of America and the BBC World Service were on the short wave so I listened to some English voices and got some much needed world news.

Sunday was supposed to be an off day for us but the people (who are amazing, by the way) in my CBT group gathered to share stories about our host families and the different tactics we attempted to use in order to communicate. This is where my inexperience and youth shows. It seemed like everyone has a better first day than me. Listening to my peers tell stories, I thought maybe I am too young and inexperienced to do this job effectively. Then I realized I don’t need to be comparing myself to my peers but rather using their stories to learn and grow. I went back to my host family and put my fellow Trainees’ suggestions into use. Cooking for Lftur (“break fast”) had already started so I sat down in the kitchen with my language books and started studying. My host sister was so gracious with me and when I started pointing and asking the name of the object, she responded very slowly and was patient with me while I repeated the word about a thousand times. I learned so much and my day was 100x better than the day before.

The rest of the week followed a similar pattern. I would take a leap forward only to take a step back a few moments later. Each new experience was an opportunity for me to learn. During the frustrating moments, it took strength I did not know I had not to go to my room and curl up in a ball with my Ipod and To Kill a Mockingbird and hide.

My host family is sooo nice and incredibility patient with me. They are way more patient with me than I am with them. They graciously took me in and continuously fed me (even though I tried not to eat a lot). One day, a friend of the oldest brother came over and tried to speak to me in English. I complemented the friend’s language skills. My host brother got upset and this determined look came over his face. Then, he made me take him around the house and identify in English practically every single object. We spent about an hour going over everything. Then at l-ftur, he pointed to objects on the table and said their names in English! He remembered the names in English a lot better than I remembered them in Tamazight. I jumped up and got so excited that I shocked everyone else (and myself). They started to laugh at me and I joined in. It was the first time I was able to laugh with them and feel a part of their community. This must be what Peace Corps means when they talk over and over about community integration. By the end of the night, he could count to 21 in English and I could count to 50 in Darija/Tamazight. When I went to bed, my smile was so big; I think you could see it from space. When I arrived home from my training session the next day, he greeted me with “Sara is from Panama City, Florida.” Again, I got excited and gave a big smile. By the way, Sarah is the Arabic name my host family gave me because Elizabeth is too hard for them to say…it is pronouced Sah-rah.

Besides the above episode, I made some other connections with my host family. The littlest boy and I made paper airplanes and paper footballs, did gymnastics, and I taught him how to throw a ball. Even though my host sisters are 21 and 18, it is hard to connect with them. The oldest girl did not attend school and the 18-year old attended very little school. Half of the women in Morocco are illiterate and my host sisters fall into that category. It is really tough for me to handle that statistic and until I met my host sisters, I did not really believe it. In the almost-22 years I have been on this Earth, I think they are the first illiterate people I have met and the sad part is that they are really smart and have lots of potential but have no way to realize it because of the environment they were unfortunately born into. It is them who run house.

I feel like I was able to finally connect with them a little the other night, though. After coming home from classes, I asked to help cook l-ftur and imnsci (dinner). When I said this, they got really excited and kept repeating that I was going to eat dinner, something I usually don’t do because it follows l-ftur by only a few hours and during l-ftur I eat so much that I am full until lunch the next day. My host sisters let me fry the l-ftur bread (yes it is fried and it is one of the most delicious things I have ever eaten) and during the meal, everyone congratulated me on the bread including the parents (big deal for me). They asked me if I liked tajine and I answered yes probably too enthusiastically. So, they taught me how to properly cook the tajine which is one of the most exciting things I have done here. I can’t wait to cook it for those who come visit me! During the cooking and the corresponding meals is when I think I was best able to communicate. The mom said more words to me than she has the rest of the week combined and I actually understood what she said and vice versa. On the same note, the food here is delicious. The fried breads, tajine, and cous cous are some of the best things I have ever eaten. The dad would eat l-ftur in his own little corner, mumbling incoherently, and did not seem to realize me until the middle of the week when he asked the oldest daughter who I was. To pat myself on the back, I knew what he was saying and when he acknowledged me, I answered back in Tamazight. It was a very good accomplishment for me.

One of my new strategies in Morocco is just to smile all the time. It seemed to work well for me during CBT. Some current PC volunteers spoke to us the week before CBT started and one said that when she arrived in her permanent site, she tried to smile all the time. The people in her community seemed to feed on that and it helped her integrate into her community. The saying that was popular a few years ago “I smile because I have no idea what is going on,” well, that is me. Slowly, but surely though, I am getting an idea of what is going on and it seems to make the bad moments, less bad; and the good moments a lot better.

Overall, I feel as if the past week went really well and I looking forward to being back in the little village. The scenery was breathtaking and the village was really peaceful. One night, I went for a walk outside and was amazed by the stars.

Throughout the week, I wondered if I was having as much an impact on their lives as they are having on mine. I was definitely the first American they had spent time with. A few Americans have been through this village but not many. On a lighter note, their lives are more well-rounded now because they have listened to Jimmy Buffett, the Beatles, Alison Krauss, Jimi Hendrix, Norah Jones, Bob Marley, Dixie Chicks, Elton John, and Billy Joel. By the way, thank you Apple for inventing the Ipod and podcasts; and to NPR for making “Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me” into a podcast. And on the last day, we finally figured out how to get hot water and the hot shower I was able to get on the last day was absolutely sinful.

And Mom don’t worry, I helped out around the house. Definitely did not do my fair share because they wouldn’t let me but I folded laundry, cleaned the dishes, helped in the fields, and hauled water from the communal well.

Another phase of CBT will start again in 4 days and in that time, I have one small, tiny, really simple request. Can every household in Morocco receive a western toilet with the plumbing to match???