June 15th, 2009
Location: Tigmijou, Morocco
Weather: High-80's, Beautiful.
So, I just returned from IST is Marrakesh and it was wonderful! Wonderful in so many ways too; The giant pool which I took advantage of every chance I could, getting to know Marrakesh better other than just the famous Jam3 Lfnaa square (I was not a big fan of the city before), and being able to see my fellow 23 stage-mates (most whom I have not seen since PST 6 months ago) and catching up was probably the best part of all. Aside for the sometimes mind-numbing day long meetings it was a very positive experience overall.
As horrible as some of the meetings were, the ideas which were shared amongst the volunteers has left my head and notebook filled with many avenues to explore which will sure keep me busy the rest of the 18 months I have here. It was extremely interesting listening to PCVs about what their sites are like and what type of work they were doing, the range of difference between experiences is astonishing. There are volunteers spread all over the country from the Sahara Desert to the High Atlas mountains to the Coasts, but the geographic differences are not what is the most interesting (myself already being quite aware how topographically diverse this wonderful country is). It is the work which the PCVs are doing which was stimulating to hear. Within in my stage of 23 there are people working with associations of all stripes; one woman is working with ladies who produce Couscous, jams, and other food spreads. Another, down in the Valley of the Roses, brought the authentic Rose water which her artisans produce. Of course there were tons of carpet associations as well, their offerings were quite distinct for the most part with designs adhering to local tradition, but not as many I had assumed there would be when before arriving in Morocco, reading the work description of the SBD program here as working with "weavers". As for our product, my artisan brought the bags made from water-reed our town produces, which sold out promptly in the first hour :0!
Departing Marrakesh was bittersweet. Knowing that once again most of the PCVs would not see each other again until our next gathering (Mid-service medicals, another 6 months time), but also a bit sick of hanging out with a bunch of Americans, I left with an eagerness to get back to site. Speaking personally, I feel a bit unsettled being away from my town for more than a few days at a time, almost guilty in a way. This may be due to the fact that we are supposed to stay in site and I have just become accustomed to it or possibly because people in my village do not travel and somewhat expect me to be there as well and when I am not, I'm somehow letting them down in an odd way. Anyways, the return to town felt good. It really did feel like I was returning home, back to normality, back to comfort. First order of business was to retrieve the key I left with the boy Aube, who was tending to my plants and cat. It should be easy to understand the images of a destroyed house and things on missing swirling in my head as I walked to his house. You never know what can happen no matter how well you lock things up, Moroccan children just find a way into the places they want to go. Upon entering my home with three children in tow everything appeared to be as it should; all doors closed, courtyard clean, plants alive (except the ones I was growing in egg cartons, you failed Aube!), and the kitten just a bit bigger than last I'd seen here. The kitchen though was another story, a mess, just how I left it J, one of the children leaned his head in an made the comment about it possibly containing a Djinn (spirit, think Genie) or two which brought a smile to my face, I was home.
