PPST - just another outstanding Peace Corps acronym.

First things first: I will be getting wireless modem for my house (and anywhere else I choose to drag my computer) in three months or less. A COSing volunteer (COS stands for 'close of service') is selling hers when she leaves in November, so if my search for a new laptop doesn't pan out before then, I will still have the internet by the middle of November. I look forward to Skyping you all from the privacy of my apartment.

Alright, back to the actual point of this update: my two-week stint up North, for Post Pre-Service Training. Bad name, but a successful training overall.

We were in a city called Azrou, up in the Fez/Meknes area of the country. It's a full two days of travel for me to get there (an 11-hour bus ride and then an 8-hour train ride, if you were curious), but it was totally worth it. The thing that struck me the most about the region, other than the lack of my Berber dialect being spoken up there, is the unbridled carnal longing I felt for trees.

Yes, I said trees. Green, leafy, shade-providing, oxygen-producing climb-able trees. Growing up in Michigan, I took them for granted. Now that I'm surrounded only by harsh-looking argan trees and Moroccan tumbleweed, I've come to appreciate them even more. Absence does indeed make the heart grow fonder. I even considered writing a haiku for this post.

Anyhow, our hotel was zween bzef (that's code for really, really nice), with western toilets, private bathrooms in each room and balconies! I love reading on a balcony, I must admit. Any book I read is always better on a balcony for some reason. But, I digress.

The training was two weeks long and focused on working through our project framework: three objectives, broken down into three parts each, describing the long-term goals of the Rural Community Health program here in Morocco. The first objective focuses on education of issues surrounding maternal and child health, HIV/AIDS and basic personal hygiene (washing hands, brushing teeth, etc). The second revolves around the training of Moroccans in leadership positions, whether they be presidents of associations, nurses, teachers or qablas (traditional birth attendants). The third goal is what I'll be focusing on for my main project, which is sanitation, solid and liquid waste managment and water treatment. It's a dirty job, but I wasn't expecting the fabulous life anyway. Having a cell phone still blows me away sometimes, let alone having the option of getting satellite TV and wireless internet in my house.

Our daily schedule was pretty full, with two technical sessions and a language session daily. Along with the technical information, however, was the opportunity to really get to know and connect better with the members of our training group. They're the ones that we do everything with (pre-service training, post pre-service training, in-service training, mid-service medical exams... you get the idea), and the volunteers that we know the best outside of our province. While we lost a member of our stage to a medical evacuation (after struggling for months with a parasite, he was found to have a blood clot in his lung), our time together proved productive and relatively drama-free.

Med evacs, by the way, are different than being medically separated. A medical evacuation means being sent back to the States (or the nearest modern medical facility available, in cases of an extreme emergency) to receive treatment. A volunteer is given forty-five days to recover and return to country to continue service. A medical separation, on the other hand, is exactly what it sounds like.

Joe, if you're reading this, I'm still pissed at you for leaving. Quit being a pansy and get back here!

(Seriously though, we all miss you so much. Take care of yourself.)

After training was over, we parted ways toward our respective homes once again. While we're meeting up again in three months' time for IST (in-service training), it was a bittersweet goodbye.

I especially miss the trees.

On an unrelated note, I'm realizing more and more that there's no exaggeration in other volunteers' stories of time flying by here. Especially when compared to things happening in America, my head spins with how fast time is moving around me. For example, I bought some postcards before training, and wanted to send one to Wolverine Summer Camps, which was my summer home for the three summers previous to my service. I sat down to write it and realized that with their last camp finishing up at the beginning of August, anything I sent wouldn't arrive before they closed up shop. How did I miss an entire Camps season without sending a postcard? That really stopped me in my tracks. Also, thinking of Ramadan starting in two weeks, and the school year / college football season starting up next month really makes me feel like I'm falling behind... in life.

It also makes me ramble... sorry.

But for now, that's that. I'm safely back home and about to head to the souq, or weekly market, to grab groceries and start cooking my own meals again.

Anything to help get my mind off of those trees... /sniffle