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.