Katherine In Morocco

In a few previous posts, I have mentioned the fact that my younger sister Katherine is visiting me for a month. She is currently halfway through her stay in my little Berber village. I offered her the option to write a post here and I am glad she took it up. Here is what she has to say:

The words of Katherine Whitton:

To start with: I have not quite decided if I like Morocco yet. Obviously, I don’t love it, or I would be able to look past its faults. I knew coming here that everything I was comfortable with at home probably was not going to be within reach. I knew it was a whole new culture; unique from any I have ever experienced. Yet I still was….uncomfortable.

I don’t use that word because I was having problems with the lack of hygiene or because the beds were lumpy. I will admit I needed some time to adjust to the Turkish toilet, which I knew was coming, but that came with practice and out of necessity. Uncomfortable is how I felt the first week or so in Morocco. I think what struck me was that I felt helpless. I stood idly by and let my sister speak to people because I don’t know the language. Often I do not know what they are saying, but I am sometimes able to pick up the gist of it. Luckily, Moroccans like to talk with their hands.

Though I did know Liz would be dealing with the locals, I didn’t think about the impact it would have on me. It’s not something you can prepare yourself for because it’s almost a feeling of isolation, yet, there are tons of people around. I also didn’t think about eating or what I was going to do to occupy my days in my sister’s house. For some one who usually over thinks everything I did not seem to think about anything. I won’t lie, this thought socked me. So it has taken me longer to adjust to Morocco than I would have liked. I have had headaches and have been annoyed and been lazy, but I am getting the hang of things. It is a practice of character and courage that I needed and still need to put myself through. So my decision is that I am undecided. Maybe when I write again I will have a better answer.

Travels With Katherine

Katherine and I have just returned from a little vacation in Tangier and Spain. Now, we are chilling in my town until my parents’ arrive next week.

Our travels were full of adventures:
-shady characters on the train: the guy with one arm; the stoner who was in his own little world but liked to impediate in ours; and the Moroccan woman of questionable morals
-coffee in a real Starbucks store
-ATM angst in Spain
-pubs where people interact and women are not stared at
-standing in Africa, looking out over the Straits of Gibraltar and staring at Spain

Flickr is finally updated but for a quick snapshot:


With Starbucks coffee and the International Herald Tribune


Katherine staring at the water

Shock

After 2 solid weeks of travel, I am back in town. I spent nights in both Marrakech and Essaouira on my way to Agadir for an in-service training. From Agadir, I flew to Edinburgh where I met up with Katherine. Traveling in Morocco is one thing, but as I learned, traveling abroad is something else altogether.

In the last few weeks before I left, my attitude had turned a little cynical and bitter so I was eager to get out and experience the western world. I just had no idea how difficult that would be. I think the best world would be “shock.” I experienced cultural shock, people shock, and conversation shock.

Culture shock: Not being stared at; Not being heckled by men; and the multitude of food, clothes, books options available

People shock: Being with non-Peace Corps Americans and Being in social settings again

Conversation shock: With the exception of Twinkle, I have not had a face-to-face conversation with a non-Peace Corps English-speaking native in 9 months. Trying to hold a normal conversation was difficult. I kept wanting to interject Arabic/Tamazight words into the conversation. And who knew speaking in complete sentences would be so hard.

Just as I started to adjust, it was time to leave. Next time, I am going to have to stay out of country a few days longer. Leaving the country taught me that I need to leave more often. How exactly, I am not sure but I know that it is needed. In my little Moroccan bubble, I tend to get too comfortable and shut off from the outside world. In the first part of the year, I probably would have considered this a good thing but now I realize, this is bad thing and it will be an internal struggle that I am going to face for the next 18 months.