Don't judge me.

If you're yearning* for more Peace Corps blogs, please click here... but only if you promise not to judge me too hard, should you find my blog inferior. Because it might be.

Bonus: I'll also be listed there soon! That's kinda neat to think about. :) Let's just hope that I get placed in a site with electricity and enough internet juice (that's a technical term) to let me update occasionally.

In other news, I filled out my brother's FAFSA form tonight (as he's currently frolicking in the snow piles of Myfeetarecold, AK), and it caused me to bleed from my eyeballs. No, really, I'd rather file my entire family's income taxes and have my wisdom teeth removed again than have to fill out another FAFSA. Hence, my post will end abruptly.


*In a sixth-grade spelling bee, I spelled yearn like this: u-r-n. It sounded silly then (and urned me - haha! - a big fat DQ), but little did they know that I was merely the pioneer of the new IM/texting language that schoolchildren would speak fluently only three years later.

Pleasantly untitled.

Going through all of your personal possessions - and I'm talking all of them - sounds like a chore.

And frankly, it is.

It's also very cleansing, however. It forces you to question purchases and how you spend your money, to re-evaluate how much stuff you have, and why you have it. I, unfortunately, had no answer to that last thought. Why do I have so many solid-colored, fitted t-shirts? And why am I holding on to jeans that are too short and tops that don't quiiiiite stretch enough? The silence as I ask myself these questions is answer enough: there is no reason.

When the question of 'what to do with all of my stuff' was put out to the universe right before Lost started tonight, the answer was an overwhelming "NOW'S THE TIME TO CLEAN UP YOUR ACT," and it came straight from the peanut gallery (namely, that little inside voice that sometimes has to force me to get up and brush my teeth even though I'm already curled up in bed, reading a book with my eyes half-open). So, that's precisely what I did tonight: I purged.

I added a bit more to the to-be-packed pile, and added even more to the still-needs-to-be-donated box(es) (will be explained soon), but somehow was still left with a feeling that I have too much stuff. I felt... guilty for it. It's not an overbearing Catholic-style guilt, however. I feel guilty for having accumulated this much stuff, but by recognizing this and knowning that I'm ready to change my ways, I feel... cleansed. For the first time in years (4.5, to be precise), everything has a place in the drawers/closet of my childhood room. That thought alone will help me sleep well tonight.

(On the topic of donations, I guess there's not much more to tell. I've got an overwhelmingly large box of clothing for donation, and I'm thinking about filling a second and dropping them both off at the Salvation Army's doorstep like two small orphans on the ride to the airport on Monday morning.)

So should you find yourself needing a bit of spiritual cleansing, and prayer/mediation/re-reading Eat, Pray, Love just won't cut it, try a wardrobe purge. It can't hurt, right?

Aaaand, we're back.

Just a quick Natalie update:

She's home! Her and not-done-cooking-yet baby boy are back at home in Jackson, MI after an arduous 5 days stay in two hospitals. She's on a "90 day medical leave" from work (and has dropped out of school for the semester) because there was no definite diagnosis, but aside from not being able to drive, things aren't so bad.

Well... being preggers can't be a walk in the park, but you all know what I mean. She's home and doing well, and that's what we're all concerned with.

Anyhow, I'll be on a plane at this time next week, flying somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. My goodness, how time flies!

Expectations of my new "situation."

One of the questions on the Language, Culture and Miscellaneous Information About Yourself survey that I filled out about a month ago asked about my expectations of my soon-to-be experience working abroad. I've given that question a lot of thought since then, and I've come to realize that I don't expect glitz, glamour, or facilitating world peace while I'm in Morocco. In fact, I'm not sure if I even expect to do much tangible work while I'm there.

A lot of the blogs that I read, and materials that the Peace Corps has sent me, say that one of the biggest frustrations that volunteers face while serving is the fact that change does not happen overnight, or even in two years. Change doesn't always come in form you're expecting, either. English lessons for 12-year-old boys may not manifest as "change" until years and years later, when they're old enough to decide to pursue an advanced education. A latrine system may fail at first, but may flourish at a later date when the resources and village support are more sustainable.

The Peace Corps has three goals for its volunteers:

1. Helping the people of interested countries in meeting their need for trained men and women.
2. Helping promote a better understanding of Americans on the part of the peoples served.
3. Helping promote a better understanding of other peoples on the part of Americans.

Nowhere in these goals does it mention anything about creating or facilitating sustainable projects, or making life for the villagers "better," or changing anything. I am serving as an educator of the American spirit, a student of Morocco and an educated set of hands.

And that could, very well, be it.

I will, of course, be working with the local sbitar (health clinic) to further their work in the community (whatever that may be). I also hope to set a few new ideas into motion. I can't expect to touch hundreds of lives with my work, though. I can't expect to save the starving children of Morocco, or to introduce electricity into villages without. It's unfair to assume that my lifestyle is the lifestyle that everyone should be living, and I look forward to the opportunity to look at my American-ness from the perspective of an outsider.

* * *

Update on Natalie:
As of this afternoon, she was stable and in good spirits. She had a seizure early this morning, but doctors say that the blood clot in her brain has dissolved. Please keep praying. Gurl, if you're reading this, feel free to comment and keep us updated as well!

Going away party, part juj.

Before anything else, let us first note the title of this post:
Going away party, part juj.

Juj, which I imagine to be spelled jeem-wow-jeem, is Moroccan Arabic's way of saying the number two.

In Modern Standard Arabic (fondly referred to as fus-ha), this number is pronounced ithnaan.

See the similarities?
Yeah, me neither.

Thank you for indulging me in this brief Arabic lesson/venting session. Let me now tell you about my travels westward:


I left for the Wide Open West on Thursday evening, after mama had to work overtime at The Home. It was a romantic dinner of Hungry Howie's Hawaiian pizza, and then I was off.

Boyfriend and I then attended the UM-Minnesota men's basketball game, from which we emerged victorious. The seniors in the pep band were honored, and I made did the obnoxious-band-fan thing momentarily. I'm so happy for the class of '09! Go Blue... and may you all find jobs. :)

We then proceeded to grab some delicious greasy goodness at Quicky Burger (where I learned that Boyfriend="curly"), and I chose to ignore the logo of Busty Blonde Riding Hamburger and indulge in some sweet potato fries. I've never had sweet potato fries with cinammon before, but they were fabulous and I highly recommend them (though I sincerely wish they'd change their logo).

Friday consisted of a trip back east, to the grand city of Dearborn. I'm contracted to clean Sito and Jido's house every Friday, and this Friday was no exception. Unfortunately, I got a late start and, upon arrival, was told that "everything has been done." Sooo, I sit down to game of old-style solitaire (you know, the kind with actual playing cards) and enjoy watching mama re-learn how to make m'judra and cole slaw for a Lentilpalooza class mama was slated to teach this weekend.

Then, I was told that "everything" did not include the bathroom, or vacuuming the house.
Oh joy, oh rapture.

I clean, we eat, I clean s'more, and then mama and I take a trip down Warren to Greenland Market, when suddenly... oh no! Car troubles.

[insert terrible, screeching car noises here]

Mama and I return from the market unscathed, even though her car - a '96 Chevy Cavalier which she is in love with and will not, under any circumstances, part with - sounds like it's on its last legs. I've driven a lot of potentially unsafe vehicles (high-floor Blue Birds are the first ones that come to mind) before, but this one was pretty nerve-wracking.

I follow mama to the expressway, and then she put-puts her way back Downriver whilst I return westward, to Ann Arbor, for Sawfest '09.

My co-workers put on a movie night, featuring the Saw movies that I had never seen (being, ahem, all of them). Being the whitest one out of these co-workers, I came first to the party and I AM PROUD OF IT. In my defense (not that I need to defend myself in my own blog), it was indicated in the invite-text that the night was in my honor... so, really, I had to arrive first. I had a wonderful talk with a newly-halal coworker about work, play, and life after Shahada before the others arrived. All in all, we ended up getting through the first three movies, and life was grand. I couldn't have asked for a better group of co-workers. :)

Saturday consisted of breakfast with an old friend (who, by the way, looked gorgeous even at 9a. Jealous? Yesvery.), Saw IV and V, picking up the cake, stopping at REI, and driving all over town in a ridiculous snow storm.

Then it was time for a nap, a shower, and a party!

Sharif wa Selma, friends from Arabic classes long-ago, threw me a going-away party yesterday evening, and it was unbelieveable. I am notorious for knowing "everyone," but last night, all of my friends seemed to come together in one big blob of unity. Friends and friends of friends seemed to know the other friends in my life, and "everyone" seemed to have a wonderful time.

There were, as can be expected, a few hiccups in the evening:
1. Pix, a friend of Boyfriend's, getting into a car accident on his way to the party. He's fine, as is the old lady that insisted that he pulled out in front of her. Luckily, there was a pedestrian on hand to tell The Fuzz that Pix's light was indeed green. The cars involved, however, will need a bit of work.
2. Gurl's younger sister Natalie falling ill. Her sister is 5.5 months pregnant, and has had almost fifteen petit mal seizures between Friday morning and the writing of this post. The doctors at Foote Hospital thought that it was epilepsy, intially. Then, they changed their diagnosis to a blood clot in the brain. She was transferred to University Hospital in Ann Arbor around midnight on Saturday night, and they're now looking at this being some sort of cruel seizure disorder. Her baby is fine (and it's a boy!), hamdillah. If you're of the praying persuasion, please send up a few for her, her baby and her sleep-deprived fiance. Insha'Allah I'll keep you updated with good news.

I am so grateful to everyone that came out, and to Selma and Sharif for throwing such a hiflee mumtaz. Thank you all so much (and a special thank you to Beth, for the no-bakes and giving us the go-ahead to dabke into the wee hours of the morning)! I couldn't have asked for anything more last night... except, of course, for world peace, and Natalie's health returning, and Gurl being at the party, and Pix's car being alright. Really, though, it was as close to a perfect send-off as a girl can ever dream of. :)

Pictures will be up (on Facebook and Flickr, so Sharif doesn't yell at me) just as soon as my internet's a bit more stable.

FAQs

I've been answering a lot of very similar questions lately, so I will try to dispell a few myths today. It's also been brought to my attention that 'formatting sucks', and that 'all the cool kids use bullet points.'

Since it's been pretty well-established that I am so far from 'cool' that bullet points aren't enough to save me, I feel secure in using them without looking like I'm trying too hard.

• I leave on 2 March, 2009. That's really soon, I know.
• My official position is 'community health volunteer.' I'll serve in Morocco's Health sector (other sectors in Morocco include Small Business Development, Environment and Youth Development), but just what I'll be doing will be established upon arrival.
• Monday and Tuesday, 2-3 March, will be spent in Philadelphia getting poked, prodded, looked over and taught how to keep myself safe whilst abroad. I'll also get to know my stage (pronounce stah-j) mates and probably realize that I've forgotten to pack a few crucial things.
• My vaccinations are pretty minimal, and the most exotic one on the list so far is rabies (for the dogs that run wild on the bled, or countryside).
• Yes, I am excited. I am also nervous, anxious, scared to death, and overwhelmed. But mostly, I'm excited. :)I know only one other person in my stage (there are approximately 60 people heading to Morocco with me), and she happens to work with Boyfriend at The Restaurant. I plan on calling her tonight, and am sincerely hoping that she tells me that we're on the same flight to Philly.
• My first two months are dedicated to round-the-clock training. I will be living with a host family at night, and training with approximately 5 other volunteers during the day.
• I'll be up in the High Atlas Mountains for my training, though I do not yet know where my permanent site will be.
• I do not yet know where my permanent site will be. Sorry, folks.
• I have an address and can accept letters (but no packages) while in training! Comment or email me and I'll pass along the address.
• I will probably buy a cell phone after I'm settled, but I'm pretty sure that Skype, email and snail mail will be the best modes of communication for those that are still Stateside.
• I plan on coming home once, entertaining my family once in Morocco, and taking a few side trips (especially to Istanbul... right, Gulay?), iA.
• I get two days of vacation per month that I can put under the mattress until I'm ready to use them.
• What I'll be doing after Peace Corps depends entirely on the state of the economy. Ideally, I'd like to get a job, get settled somewhere and start paying off my student loans before jumping back in to academia for graduate school, but I don't want that job to be at Wendy's again. I'm planning on taking Morocco one day at a time, and crossing that bridge when I come to it.

That's all I can think of at the moment, as far as questions I answer every day. I'm sure someone (Brother, I'm referring to you here) will remind me of the points I forgot, should one arise. :) I'm also willing to answer any more questions that might come up, provided you're really, really nice to me.

As far as the rest of today, I'm heading back to school for what could be the last time this afternoon. Saturday is my going-away party, and Sunday will bring me back to The Island, where I will contine to wonder where all of my time went.

Packing, day one/Art!

Question of the day:

Where does one draw the line between this is not a fashion show and you'll want to bring more stuff when packing for Peace Corps service?

Today was my first day of official, not-just-mentally-making-lists-but-really-doing-it packing. Brother's room was evacuated in October due to frigid temperatures (okay, fine, he just left for Alaska), so it provides a lot of no-longer-bombarded-with-stuff space for me to spread out my things. And so far it's been... frustrating. How much is too much? How much will I need to, or be willing to sacrifice my personal style in order to assimilate?

And the all-important question: just how many scarves should I bring?????????

My transformation into a hijabi (or muhajaba, or girl-with-a-scarf-on-her-head, or whatever) has been a long time coming, and I've stocked up on scarves, long-sleeved shirts (these being my favorite) and long pants/skirts for the occasion. The thought process behind this will come soon, but for now, the aforeasked* question still looms big in my mind.

*this is my blog, and I will make up words if I so choose. No one's forcing you to read this.

Maybe I'm over-thinking this? The plan is to sleep on it, and return to my lists in the morning. I want to be pretty squared away before my final trip to A2 this weekend. I also plan on posting my Master Packing List here on the blog, once its done. If you Google "Peace Corps packing list," hand-made lists for many African countries come posted, and look super-helpful. Morocco doesn't seem to have a really good list yet, so I'm looking to change things to save future PCVs a bit of stress.

* * *

On a completely unrelated note, my packing was (thankfully) interrupted by Mama's grant application. Mama is a graphic artist** whose current medium is watercolor, and her work has been getting more and more attention as of late. While she's been selling work and entering juried showed for a while now, this whole grant thing is pretty new (as far as I know). This particular grant is worth $25,000 (!), and I was given the following responsibilities:

1. Type up the resume/CV, artist statement and narrative.

2. Convert resume/CV into a .pdf, and the samples of her work into correctly-sized .jpegs.

3. Submit and join in the celebratory dance to follow submission.

Thankfully, everything went smoothly with steps one and two. An online website helped the .pdf conversion, and .jpegs are pretty simple to manage (though I must mention that there were 20 files that had to be converted, sized and uploaded). Typing is also something I excel at, seeing as Rich White People Township Schools started us with computer class in about fourth grade. Everything was checked and checked again, electronically signed, and 2.5 hours later, ready to be submitted when... a glitch in the system foiled our plans for success!

As it turns out, there's a server problem, and while you can work through the application, nothing can be submitted until it's fixed. Mama was less than thrilled, but I assured her that there was nothing to worry about. Our data is still saved on the website, and is also backed up on our hard drive and on one of Baba's jump drive. This leads us to responsibility number 4:

4. Keep trying to submit until it's done.

Mama works at The Home tomorrow, so I'm on submission duty. With $25,000 on the line (that's almost 212,500 Morrocan dirhams) and the fact that my mom's work is really good, I'm ready to do what it takes to submit. I'll end this post with a few of my favorite paintings:

Mea culpa.

My most recent post, entitled "Going away party, part one" has been deleted due to an instance of (completely unintentional) defamation of character.

My humblest apologies to those parties that felt slighted and mis-portrayed. Insha'Allah I will do better in future posts.

I have the greatest family and friends that anyone could ever ask for.

To reiterate:

I have the best family and friends that anyone could ever ask for, ever.

(And yes, I felt this sentiment deserved a post all its own.)

A few minutes reading this post could PROVE to you the Bible is true.

http://nicoleinmorocco.blogspot.com <-- my blog's address.

http://nicoleinmorocco.blogpsot.com <-- biblecollegeonline.com's address.

"WELCOME to an easy to navigate MEGA-SITE of Bible, Christian, church & religious information, sermons & studies. Includes the audio & written Bible, sound doctrine, prophecy, a photo tour of Israel and spiritual warfare. If it's in the Bible, it should be here. Among the Web's most complete Christian sites, by God's mercy (app. 6000 pgs & 4000 subjects). A few minutes reading this page could PROVE to you the Bible is true."

Careful in your typing, folks.

Corps de la Paix de la Photographie

Basic Map of Morocco
Originally uploaded by Nicole, fil Maghrib

Oh, Morocco. Nta blad jameel bezzef, ya habibi!

Playing with Flickr AND working on my darija. This post's a two-for-one deal, folks.

My A in AP English was earned by personality, not by skill as a poet.

A collection of haikus, inspired by and dedicated to my former roommate. The only thing more embarrassing than me writing a collection of poetry to her is, well, the writing of said poetry.

Please note: I use the term 'haiku' lightly.
Also: I love nothing more than to play with formatting, punctuation, capitalization and other things that normal people find mundane. Judge away.

Generosity-
Your house made me feel like home.
I hate spiders too

Your name starts with L
Laura, Lana, Lisa?
Only time will tell.

You are very blonde.
Do you spell that with an e?
I am not a poet.

Folks, let it be known that I don't write poetry for just anyone. In fact, I haven't written a poem since the poetry unit in Mr Yogi's English class -- early 2004, I believe. This is how much I love this girl.

Our love story plays as such:
As we're driving down Plymouth on the way home from a girl date at the end of September, I tell Former Roommate the story about how I had moved four times between April and August, how I had worked for four days at Panera, and how I was now looking at moving home to try to find a job in Down(onourluck)river, MI. She looks at me from the driver seat of her 198something luxury sedan, smiles and says simply, why don't you live with me?

But Former Roommate, I asked, don't you live in a one-bedroom apartment?
Yes, what's your point? I think it'll be fun!, was her reply.

And so it was. She selflessly gave me half of her closet, half of the fridge and half of her bed (with mandatory, clothing-optional pillow fights every night, of course). She also charged me pennies for rent. This beautiful, blond(e), spider-hating girl saved me financially and socially.

So, Laura, thank you for everything. I hope Matt knows just what kind of girl he has!

Brother, call home more. Mom and dad miss you.

My brother called home yesterday, much to the joy of our mother, who insists on shouting into the telephone whenever he calls.

Mom, I know he's in Alaska. He can hear you just fine... as can the neighbors.

Brother and I chatted a bit about how cold it is in Artic Circle, AK (-40ish degrees Farenheit; their idea of winter), how warm it is here in Boringsville, MI (40ish degrees Farenheit; a heatwave!), and how cold it will get in High Atlas Mountains, Morocco (40ish degrees Farenheit; their idea of a low). It'll be just like home... except for the lack of indoor heating, personal cars and ability to speak the language.

The most memorable part of the conversation was when I told Brother that I found out that I'd be arriving in Casablanca, shacking up in a hotel in Beni-Mellal and eventually training in the vicinity of Azilal. His reaction was this:

"Oh my God, OH MY GOD! I'm going to Google the shit out of those cities!"

Ah, Brother. I can only hope our Skype conversations will be as colorful.

Speaking of family, I'm officially moved out of my apartment in Fake Ypsi, and am back to living at home with the parentals on The Island. A swift kick to my independence, yes. Death to my social life, yes. I will, however, be showered with our baby's leaving us gifts before I blow this popsicle stand next month. Before that happens, however, I feel the need thank Roommate with a post dedicated to her and her generous offer to take little, homeless, starving me in from the cold. Either that, or a haiku about how pretty she is... whichever will be more embarrassing. :)

Just Another Peace Corps Welcome Letter

Received another Peace Corps email after a Robitussin-induced nap this afternoon, with a(nother) welcome letter from our Country Director and the Associate PC Director who was nice enough to include a little more of our travel info. Let's take a look, shall we?

Detroit --> Philadelphia --> New York City
(seven hour flight from NYC to Casablanca)
Casablanca --> Beni-Mellal --> Azilal!

All of this will be done in the first ten days of March. I can't wait!

I also can't breathe out of either nostril. Back to the Robitussin for now...

Breaking the myth that no one escapes from Transpo

Today, insha'Allah, is my last day of work.

And, on my last day of work, I find a blurb on public transportation in a fellow PCV's blog. Mash'Allah, talk about perfect timing!

"Perhaps the most extreme (and amusing) example of the Moroccan hello is experienced most often when traveling on public buses or vans. Bus drivers have a habit of pulling to the side of the road to get out and greet someone they know in the street (with a full load of passengers mind you). This situation isn’t confined to tiny village transport either. Last month, I was traveling on a CTM (coach) bus that stopped several times so the bus driver could hop out and say hello to his friends. Imagine taking a city bus in New York that stopped at random intervals so the bus driver could say hello. I think New Yorkers might riot!"

Perhaps I'll give this a whirl!

Ah zomg it's reeeeeeeeal!

I ran a few errands this morning, and came home with the urge to make phone calls. I had to call and get the number to fax my latest lady doctor-findings to Peace Corps, and then had to call the lady doctor clinic to get said findings faxed. My last call was to the staging people to find out when, precisely, I'd be sent my official departure date.

I had the number dialed into my phone, and just as I was about to hit the green button, something told me to stop and check if the instructions had arrived via email. I obliged the little voice, and by george, my staging instructions were there! I received a little itinerary regarding what will occur at staging (meetings, meetings and more meetings), what I should wear to staging (business casual, for all those meetings), where I'd be hanging my hat at the end of the day (the Holiday Inn), etc. I received two other forms to print, fill out and bring with me to staging (Peace Corps loves pushing paper)

The email insist that I call the travel people immediately to make flight arrangements to my staging location in Philadelphia. I obliged the email, and called right then and there. I was given the choice of two flights, both leaving on 2 March. I had to choose the flight that leaves DTW at 6:45a. Masha'Allah.

But, folks, there you have it. I leave for Philadelphia on 2 March, attend some meetings, spend the night worrying about everything, and then flying out to Casablanca on 3 March. Wow.

In other news, today starts my last week of work. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, a double on Thursday, and then I'm DONE! Double wow.

I'll be posting more once this all sinks in.