Site Switch!

Less than a month ago, I got a phone call from my programing staff in Rabat telling me that I would switch sites. I had been in discussion with them about my original site placement and they even drove out to my site for a site visit to check things out. I was generally unhappy with my old site for many reasons, though was mentally quite prepared to tough it out for two years. Unfortunately, there was no housing available for me in my old site, and I was not willing to live with the host family for two years. That specific site has a history of housing issues, and Peace Corps respected my request to transfer me to a site with housing.

So now I've been in my new site for a couple of weeks, which is only about 50-60km from my old site. I will return to my old site from time to time to visit... my host mother was a lovely woman and they fed me incredibly well. I love my new site though. I felt far more integrated in my new community in the first three days than I felt in a month and a half at the old site. My host family talks at me (they seem to think I understand a lot more Arabic than I actually do... which makes sense given that I tell them I understand when in reality I don't), women talk to me, the local officials are very receptive to my presense, I have an in-site tutor, and the best news... the president of my commune is a women! Unbelievable, actually. I'm also closer to other volunteers, and there is essentially hourly transportation in/out of site. Not to mention, I am now only a 30-45 taxi ride away from the beautiful Essaouira.

I've found an apartment and am now living on my own. Alhamdulah, I made it through four months of three homestays! Little-by-little, I'm furnishing, beautifying, and making my apartment feel like home. The house is small, came entirely unfurnished, and is dire need of someone with enough taste to know that pastel blue, pink, and green Jackson Pollock-like splatters on the ceiling are just not aesthetically pleasing. Tacky, if you will. I'm also trying to figure out how to bring about the demise of the plethora cockroaches that like to make abode in my apartment. I must admit, though, I thoroughly enjoy watching them twitch as their nervous systems slowly shut down promptly after spraying them with souq's most powerful bug poison. I'd feel bad about that if I didn't sleep in constant fear of cockroaches crawling on my face. And as a point of interest... the word for cockroach in Darija literally translates as "oil thief," which is especially funny since the bottom floor of my apartment houses an olive oil press.

I've managed to paint my bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom. Ran out of paint for the living room and hallway, and too broke to buy more. Painting a house is also hard without running water. Most days, my water works for a couple of hours in the morning, and sometimes for a couple of hours in the afternoon. Other days, the water doesn't work at all. Painting a house without running water is funny, if not challenging. But at least I have running water sometimes... many PCVs don't have that. And many of my community members have to travel upwards of 10km by donkey to gather water from a well. And I always have electricity. And I have excellent cell phone and internet reception, for which I am imminently grateful. My house, while not entirely isolated, sits far enough from other houses that I have my own privacy. This means I can blast Dar Williams or Tracy Chapmam at practically any hour of the day... Lady Gaga or MIKA if I feel like dancin'.

Life is flying by incredibly quickly. I'll be busy this month cleaning and furnishing my apartment. At some point, I need to start legitemately studying Arabic and exercising regularly. I plan lots of experimental cooking too, especially if I can manage to find an oven. I'll also probably spend lots of time loafing around my small souq town meeting rando-pando people, talking about the weather, drinking lots of tea, and eating lots of bread. I'll spend two weeks in early August with my entire training group for a post-training training. Ramadan hits if mid-August. Then a new round of volunteers will begin their service of Morocco and I'll no longer be a "newbie." Quickly enough, I'll be at my 6-month mark of service, wondering what the heck just happened.

Right now though, I'm just very annoyed with the 6 million flies and mosquitoes that have decided to prey upon my feeble body, a body that is already compromised by this awful and inescapable summer heat.

My new site is just a few kilometers off the main road from Essaouira to Casablanca... beautiful road.

T

View from my roof. The ocean lies just over those yonder mountains.

 

Looking East from my rooftop, towards my souq town. The elementary school is across the street.

 

 This is my bathroom. I'm hopeful that I can scrub away the yellow and brown "I don't want to know where you came from" stains. Still haven't decided if I will keep that tacky pink TP dispenser.

 

I told you someone has really bad taste.