Can I just say... Oh my fucking god!!! There is nothing in all my years that could begin to prepare me for the first moment of meeting the family I'm going to stay with for two months, and see their dar (home).
I will start at the end, and say that this is very likely going to be an incredible experience, one I will always remember and cherish, but there are probably only a handful of people my age perhaps any age) that can say that.
We rode in nice car (bus) to our "hub" and then took a Grand Taxi to our LCF's (teacher's) villa. ...which was pretty nice. There was our ustadda (teacher), and the 6 trainees, with all our crap loaded to the gills in two taxis. Our LCF (Nadia) has an upper level, large home with relatively modern conveniences. Then it was right out of a scene from an orphanage as host families showed up to pick up their children (we're all called children or "my son," even my host family, whose about my age :) ...anyway, one host family after another came and scooped up my fellow trainees, with hugs and warmth.
...and finally there was but one trainee left. ...hmmm ME, because I am a man and the husband works and so it was inappropriate for the wife to pick me up. ...so my ustadda and I walked (thank GOD for wheeled luggage and a rare, smooth road) a couple of miles to my dar. As we walked Nadia showed me the homes of the families where my fellow trainees are staying. One after the other was increasingly more impressive. This part of Morocco is known as "the Switzerland of Morocco" with gorgeous villas with the peaked roofs/A frames, all nestled together with white buildings and red roofs. Nadia pointed to a 4 story villa where the married trainees are staying, complete with maid, and all the amenities. Each trainee home seemed to surpass the next, as we traveled down the road to my dar.
My first hint that mine might be a little different was when Nadia pointed out my place in the distance: "See that pink, tin roof"? "Yes" I said, "is it one of the ones next to it"?
"No, no, that's it." "Oh," I said. As we got closer the beautiful paved road became a dirt road, than a track, then a rut. Now I'm carrying my bags with my pants rolled up. As we approach the door, I have to duck under the electrical wires (okay; that's good; there ARE electrical wires so that means electricity). It is NOT a bad house. And the mother, father, daughter (21) (no comments) and son (16) are extremely nice.
...but it is a house that none of us (or few of us have ever even seen, let alone geared up to spend the next 8 weeks). It is cold in Ifran, and they have a homemade Franklin stove that sits in the middle of the room, and seems to work just fine. They have given me my own room, that looks to have been the living room or perhaps the children's bedroom (although there isn't a bed in here). There is just a squatty potty and a bigger bucket for bathing.
It is so incredible only because it is nothing like I've ever seen. But the mother and daughter are busily cooking up what looks to be an incredible meal and I already had my kaskrot (mid-day coffee/tea/bread/jam/cheese snack). The son is out playing, the women are in the kitchen (where they won't let me even come in because for the first 3 days I'm considered a guest, and after that, I'm going to have to insist in order to be part of anything), and the dad is napping (which is what I should be doing).
I'm living in f***ing Africa, in a village, in a home that has no toilet, shower, and no bed for me, with people I've never met and have nothing in common with, including the language. YAHOO!!! Welcome to the Peace Corps!!! We resume our formal language studies tomorrow morning, and then in the afternoons, we get to learn the culture by doing walking tours, etc. The town is supposed to be simply off the hook. I'll try to post some pictures but check it out online if you get the chance.
I hope (actually I know they will) the family warms up enough for everyone to try to speak to me. The very length of this post just two hours after I got here tells you that I'm not in the mix of a million questions and the center of curiosity. Perhaps they expected someone 22 instead of 52, but what the hell! Its going to be an experience like nothing I've ever experienced before!!!
More later.
I will start at the end, and say that this is very likely going to be an incredible experience, one I will always remember and cherish, but there are probably only a handful of people my age perhaps any age) that can say that.
We rode in nice car (bus) to our "hub" and then took a Grand Taxi to our LCF's (teacher's) villa. ...which was pretty nice. There was our ustadda (teacher), and the 6 trainees, with all our crap loaded to the gills in two taxis. Our LCF (Nadia) has an upper level, large home with relatively modern conveniences. Then it was right out of a scene from an orphanage as host families showed up to pick up their children (we're all called children or "my son," even my host family, whose about my age :) ...anyway, one host family after another came and scooped up my fellow trainees, with hugs and warmth.
...and finally there was but one trainee left. ...hmmm ME, because I am a man and the husband works and so it was inappropriate for the wife to pick me up. ...so my ustadda and I walked (thank GOD for wheeled luggage and a rare, smooth road) a couple of miles to my dar. As we walked Nadia showed me the homes of the families where my fellow trainees are staying. One after the other was increasingly more impressive. This part of Morocco is known as "the Switzerland of Morocco" with gorgeous villas with the peaked roofs/A frames, all nestled together with white buildings and red roofs. Nadia pointed to a 4 story villa where the married trainees are staying, complete with maid, and all the amenities. Each trainee home seemed to surpass the next, as we traveled down the road to my dar.
My first hint that mine might be a little different was when Nadia pointed out my place in the distance: "See that pink, tin roof"? "Yes" I said, "is it one of the ones next to it"?
"No, no, that's it." "Oh," I said. As we got closer the beautiful paved road became a dirt road, than a track, then a rut. Now I'm carrying my bags with my pants rolled up. As we approach the door, I have to duck under the electrical wires (okay; that's good; there ARE electrical wires so that means electricity). It is NOT a bad house. And the mother, father, daughter (21) (no comments) and son (16) are extremely nice.
...but it is a house that none of us (or few of us have ever even seen, let alone geared up to spend the next 8 weeks). It is cold in Ifran, and they have a homemade Franklin stove that sits in the middle of the room, and seems to work just fine. They have given me my own room, that looks to have been the living room or perhaps the children's bedroom (although there isn't a bed in here). There is just a squatty potty and a bigger bucket for bathing.
It is so incredible only because it is nothing like I've ever seen. But the mother and daughter are busily cooking up what looks to be an incredible meal and I already had my kaskrot (mid-day coffee/tea/bread/jam/cheese snack). The son is out playing, the women are in the kitchen (where they won't let me even come in because for the first 3 days I'm considered a guest, and after that, I'm going to have to insist in order to be part of anything), and the dad is napping (which is what I should be doing).
I'm living in f***ing Africa, in a village, in a home that has no toilet, shower, and no bed for me, with people I've never met and have nothing in common with, including the language. YAHOO!!! Welcome to the Peace Corps!!! We resume our formal language studies tomorrow morning, and then in the afternoons, we get to learn the culture by doing walking tours, etc. The town is supposed to be simply off the hook. I'll try to post some pictures but check it out online if you get the chance.
I hope (actually I know they will) the family warms up enough for everyone to try to speak to me. The very length of this post just two hours after I got here tells you that I'm not in the mix of a million questions and the center of curiosity. Perhaps they expected someone 22 instead of 52, but what the hell! Its going to be an experience like nothing I've ever experienced before!!!
More later.
They are going to LOVE you <3
ReplyDeleteCharley, thanks for keeping all of your family and friends up to date with everything you are experiencing. It sounds very exciting!
ReplyDelete