Don't ask yourself what the world needs.Ask yourself what makes you come alive, and go do that,because what the world needs is people who have come alive.-- Gil Bailie

Please take a moment to watch this inspirational video made by fellow staagmate Cortney Healy. It highlights six tremendous women who have made a difference. This video brilliantly captures what I found so empowering about the grassroots development work I did in Peace Corps.

You Can Dream: Stories of Moroccan Women Who Do by Cortney Healy.

**HAPPY HUMAN RIGHTS DAY**

I'm now back in home America. I've left Morocco and dear friends who've become family. I'm blessed to have spent two years (or two days) learning, sharing and growing alongside them. I'm humbled by what they have meant and will mean in the years to come. My heart is full.

Photos that capture what these two years meant for my personal growth:

**Looking out the Auberge window, wondering what is in store for me these next two years..**Confused and overwhelmed at the communication challenges.

**Me in my village.

**Upside down and bent over backwards.Being stretched, twisted and re-centered is very indicative of my Peace Corps experience.

**Home and spending time with my mom.This is us making dumplings, my favorite food.

What can you do to promote world peace?

Go home and love your family.

--Mother Teresa

Many people have asked how I found my work. I describe to them the income generating project (line of crocheted jewelry). I tell them about my morning aerobic class, and how they leave hshuma at the nedi door. And I tell them about the Childcare Project, which so many of you have donated towards. Why did I do this? 1) Because I fell in love with the village and these women. 2) Because I wholeheartedly believe in the "Girl Effect." All the world needs is a caring and empowered mother.

For more information on "The Girl Effect" please visit their website: http://thegirleffect.org.

And everyone of my staagmates is exactly that. For two years, I've seen them redefine success and achievement in their own way. This makes superlatives a bit challenging. Once esteemed compliments including "Most likely to be mistaken as a Derijia speaker over the phone", "Most beloved by her community", and "Best dressed in souq fashion" suddenly becomes simply not good enough. You realize that equally strong arguments could be made for countless others. Or you discover that it represents an unfair standard by which to judge people.

**Ink sketch by Lisa Payne

In the overachiever fashion, SBD 08-10 has been PACA-ed. And we've uncovered something similar to what your Mama should have told you from day one, "You're special."

Anjie Bertramson- Most likely to be an advice columnist for the leading entomology journal "It's A Bug's Life".

April Koury- Most likely to mask her crippling sentimentality with sarcasm.

Colin Huerter- Most likely to sleep through grad school and still graduate summa cum laude.

Cortney Healy- Most likely to break the glass ceiling while giggling like a school girl.

Cynthia Berning- Most likely to put Moroccans to shame at their own customs, particularly after winning "So You Think You Can Shake It".

Dan Hudner- Most likely to use being a Berber Barbie Mogul as his cover for his real job as a CIA informant.

Dena Thomas- Most likely to unknowingly become bosom buddies with an ex-convict.

Emily Lindberg- Most likely to crochet her way out of any problem.

Jae Boyd- Most likely to keep in touch.

Jared Imse- Most likely to build a wooden arc, set sail on an existentialist trip one stormy night, and be mistaken as the second coming for Jesus Christ by everyone he meets.

Jonathan Lindberg- Most likely to be the quirky-humored electrician, who lives self-sufficiently off the grid.

Jonathan Santeliz- Most likely to outsell Rosetta Stone with his self-recorded, salsa-inspired language learning software.

Joy Chen- Most likely to copyright the word "Joy" following her sold-out, self-titled motivational speaking tour, and use the royalties to start a company called "Tough Love, Fair Trade".

Kristen Apa- Most likely to gain celebrity status as America's beloved Iron Chef critic.

Lisa Payne- Most likely to be arrested for aiding and abiding in the distribution of underaged food porn.

Lynn Dines- Most likely to be named America's Top 100 Most Influential People then make the tabloids shortly thereafter, caught in a compromising position in front of a fan.

Maggie Downey- Most likely to be misunderstood.

Michael Craig- Most likely to author "Where There Is No Other Male: A Guide To Integrating Into Your New Sorority", "Participatory Analysis for Consuming Alcohol", and "The Role of a Peanut Vendor in a Dive Bar".

Mike Lightman- Most likely to start the next green movement using altruistic yet coercive means.

Nathaniel Krause- Most likely to forgo being America's teenage heart throb and instead use his perfect six foot frame to measure the construction of eco-friendly buildings.

Randy Leisenring- Most likely to be the hostess of Extreme Makeover Home Edition.

Rebecca Luhrs- Most likely to become a Peace Corps Director whose first initiative is the realization of an annual Peace Corps Pretty Pageant.

Sarah Young- Most likely to be the host mother of a PCV after achieving world fame as the modern dancer who breast feeds on set.

Steven Schnelle- Most likely to introduce fashion into the courtroom, win every case with his theatrical performances but lose his license after punching the judge.

Terra Fuller- Most likely to start her own nomadic, Berber weaving tribe and name it "Ichabod".

Tim Michetti- Most likely to attempt smooth talking his innocence over allegations of smuggling contraband over international waters.

You win. I fail as an undefined author in an undefined space. Instead I ask for thoughtful feedback through future actions. Proceed with caution. For me, it begins with listening to my parents.

It was a full moon. The moonlight lit all corners of the village. Where was I? Hidden in the sliver of a shadow, back pushed against a recently vacated house. Or trying to stay hidden as best as I could, wearing my white North Face jacket. *Shayma and her boyfriend are giggling and flirting to my right. I recounted the moments leading up to this. It was l’Aid Kbir. The day started with a big fanfare of events and I was overwhelmed by the newness of everything. When things started to slow down, Shayma instructed me to tell my host sisters that I was heading off to the hanut. Instead, we walked the opposite direction, meeting Hamza in the darkness. After thirty minutes of bickering and testing different stops, they decided this spot would do. This marked the first of many times I became the designated chaperone.

Shayma met her boyfriend multiple times afterwards. When darkness allowed, I gave them a respectable distance. I faithfully did this because I knew no one else could. And I thoroughly enjoyed our following conversations. We’d share experiences and thoughts on relationships. It was like a girls night, just without the wine. Over the course of a year, the relationship soured. She complained that he constantly seemed dejected. Uncomfortable silences replaced the cheerful banter on their dates. Before my second L’Aid Kbir in site, she broke things off. Smart girl. Good for her.

Shayma wasn’t the only girl I chaperoned. I’ve sat waiting in the village’s surrounding fields for *Naima’s “boyfriend” to come on motor. I’ve passed productive hours in the cyber, while *Silama and her interest sat chatting a couple computers down. I’ve blocked traffic in souq so that *Narjist could have a 20 minute “date.” I’ve inadvertently video chatted with a man living in Tangier, connecting him with *Zahra. I’ve even traveled 40 minutes to drink a panache with *Marian and her “telephone friend.” That was their first and, to my knowledge, only meeting.

I’m honored that they trust me in such a way. Then again, who else but a female foreigner could fill this roll? I’ve been privy to and a chaperone of so many dates it ought to be a “Secondary Project.”

Goal 1: To provide a safe, secure and supportive environment for girls to meet potential lovers. Objective 1.1. Provide a list of “safe spots” for couples to meet. Objective 1.2: Supervise young couples, providing professional chaperon services upon request.

Goal 2: Empower clients with important life skills in romance. Objective 2.1. Put into practice skills necessary for a healthy romantic relationship. (PG of course!) Objective 2.2. Empower clients to make informed decisions through setting S.M.A.R.T goals, monitoring outcomes and devising effective evaluations. Objective 2.3. Be a good friend for each client. Listen and offer honest feedback.

Like all my other Peace Corps projects, teaching and learning goes both ways. I’ve learned and shared a lot on love, romance and marriage chatting and crocheting at the Women’s Center. They pry into my private life but also share their husband-wife dynamics and gossip about others. When I said I’m a long way from marriage, Sultana responded, “Get ready. There’s no escaping death and marriage.” Like many other Moroccans, she sees marriage for its economic and social purposes. Marriage doesn’t always have to do with love and romance. Aicha shared the two-year courtship with her husband. Other women added in how their marriages grew into love. I’ve never been less than intrigued, hearing women their age (40-50s) say on this topic.

After English tutoring one night, *Omayma and *Farida dove into the topic of careers, futures, romance and finding true love. They are both about my age, strong-willed and strong-minded girls. Least be said, they have a rather different view on love. We threw out hardball questions, ones none of us have sorted out (and quite frankly, don’t need to just yet).

There’s something to be said in how critically they’re approaching all this. I don’t have love figured out. And I know the girls I chaperone sure don’t either. But with each step and misstep, I learn something about myself, what I want/don’t want in man, what I want/don’t want in a relationship. I think there’s great value in taking such a risk. I hope that in chaperoning dates for girls, they learn the same.

*The names of all the girls are changed for their privacy.

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One a separate, loosely-related note: CONGRATS TO SARAH AND BRAHIM!!! They recently tied the knot, in full Berber style. I hope they're finding their happily ever after.

Photos from Sarah and Brahim's Berber Wedding:

**Sarah, the American girl and traditional Berber bride.

**Brahim and Sarah cutting the cake. Berber wedding with some American flavor!

**Wedding parade, 14 cars strong.

**Traditional Amazigh Wedding Dance

**Me and dear staagmates sneaking a quick rest while the music blasts.

We have successfully raised $750 for the installation of electricity, making the Childcare Center fully operational!! We are on track to open doors in October. This village couldn't be more thrilled.

From my and everyone in Ain Chaib, THANK YOU for all your contributions. I cannot say enough to your warm responses and generous donations.

**Photo of the newly built, Women’s Center upstairs. The women will move their Arabic literacy classes and Sewing classes to this room. The first floor will be a Childcare Center and host monthly children’s activities.**More photos to come!

This past August, I lead a Color Theory and Color Combinations workshop in Ain Leuh. This village, just a quick drive out from Azrou, tugs at your heart strings. It's small enough where everyone knows everyone. But big enough to access almost all important amenities- market, internet and so forth. Stairs wind up and down the hillside. Sheep graze in the outer fields. And come August, black berries grow abundantly alongside the village's streams and rivers.

**View of Ain Leuh from Randy's house.

Ain Leuh's weaving cooperative was founded in the 1970s. Their style is a hallmark of traditional, Berber weaving. I would argue that they have highest quality carpets in Morocco. Their designs are impeccably intricate and tight. At Marache Maroc Rabat, they pulled in almost 10 percent of the total sales. Tbark allah 3lihom. And I cannot say enough about the enthusiasm and hearts of these coop ladies! These past two years, they've learned a lot from PCV Randy, whose done fantastic work to transform their showroom and workspace. Things are certainly lookin' good in Ain Leuh!

**I found my magic carpet! Thank you Naima.

Randy and the women had asked for a color workshop several months prior. Things fell through but worked out perfectly to coincide with "Adult Camp." While their craftsmanship is unparalleled, they could use some work in their color choices. I took the color workshop Lindsey Dunnagan, an RPCV and exceptionally talented artist, developed and added other ways to think of color. I ended the workshop with a discussion on color schemes and a group critic of their products. I hope this blog post helps other PCVs and their work on color!

Materials You Need:

- Red, blue and yellow food coloring

- 6 clear tea glasses

- 1 large blank color wheel

- blank color wheels, one for each participant (I found it helpful to have stars denoting where the primary colors will go)

- Red, blue and yellow food coloring

- Brushes

- Pallets to mix colors on

- Water cups

Fill three tea glasses with water. Add a drop of food coloring in each tea glass. Explain th at red, blue and yellow are the primary colors, from which all colors come. Ask for volunteers to mix the primary colors and create secondary colors (purple, orange and green). It's always a good idea to check with the participants and make sure they understand what happened. Quiz them orally before moving onto the next step!

Make a color wheel from these six tea glasses. Remove the secondary colors from view. Have the participants place the secondary colors in between the correct two primary colors.

**Me explaining secondary colors.

Next pass out the blank color wheels, paints, brushes and water. Have the participants make their own colors wheels using only red, blue and yellow paints.

**Women making their own color wheels.

Next explain the following color pamphlet. Review basic relationships between colors. Also stress feelings associated with certain colors.

I wanted to show how all this information related to them and their work. The other PCVs helped me pick out different pieces from their showroom. We talked through the color choices and made suggestions for improvements. Khadija was particularly quick in catching on.

I showed them photos of the ocean, summer flowers, Moroccan desert, etc. I used an online color palette generator to pull out key colors in each photo. From these print outs, the women could clearly see common color schemes. Again, allow time for discussion and feedback. Quiz the participants and let them show you they're understanding these concepts.

Next, have the women make their own color scheme. I asked one weaver to share her yarn and thread. Whenever doing a product development workshop, connect as many dots as possible. The women giggled and laughed. PCVs and I walked around the circle, helping the women with their choices.

**Digging into Khadija's string to make their own color schemes.

In the end, there are no hard and fast rules to color fun. Stress creative imagination and experimentation along with taking inventory. What are the customers saying about certain color schemes? Look at what they're buying and what they're not buying! Khadija and Khadija seemed to truly internalize everything I said. And I'm happy they seemed to take something away from the workshop. When you try this, remember to think of your audience and how they can best apply these concepts. Good luck!

More Photos from Adult Camp:

**Ready to take on those blackberry bushes!

**The best part of blackberry picking.

This comes second to waking up each morning to french toast with blackberry jam.

**Pedicures followed by Project Runway!

Anyone whose seen my feet knows how greatly appreciated they were after this scrub.

Since coming to Morocco, I've developed an obsession for doors. Some follow the classic Arab architecture. Some are rectangular with added wire designs. Others are rundown, with chipped paint. I often slow my pace around these doors and wonder. What could be inside? What type of people live there? If the door could talk, what story would it tell?

**Chefchauoen Doors

**Beth and I posing!

Equally impressive are Morocco's mosaic tiles. They give life to walls and add artistic value to fountains. The different specs of color pull your attention here and there. I have several tile patterns in my bedroom. After two years, I'm still not bored looking at them. What a feast for your eyes!

**In the Marrakech Artisana Ensemble

**Mina and I in front of a fountain in Rabat

**Zleej found in Fes

And did I mention the wire patterns?! I love it when spiraling wires are added to the most humblest windows. Even the saddest streets, with plastic bags flying about, I can find windows with those signature swirls. And that can make all the difference.

**A view of Fes from Hotel Boujloud.

**Wiring in the windows adds an unexpected twist.

For a side summer project, I wanted to bring pieces of that world into my home. My house lacked character and color. Photos of my new bedroom are posted in an earlier blog. Now I've completed interior renovations to my house! Take a look!

**Filled in with tiles fragments found in my village.

**Bathroom

**Kitchen/walkway area

**This pattern (above) I took from the design on my CBT host family's windows (below).

Throughout my service, I've often received emails about this experience- what to expect and what to pack. When it comes to meticulous preparation for life events, I'm not your best role model. As my mother can testify, I spent the last couple weeks in America scurrying around, buying (but mostly debating about buying) this and that. From what I packed, somethings I found indispensable, somethings are great but not completely necessary, and other things I, quite frankly, would have been better off leaving at home.

Below is my staagmate Colin Huerter's "Unofficial Guide" for Moroccan-bound Peace Corps Volunteers. This serves as a great supplement to your Peace Corps Welcome Book. It leaves no stone unturned. Congratulations on your invitation and I applaud you for the journey you lead to chose Peace Corps as your next step! Marhbabikom! Welcome!

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Unofficial Peace Corps Morocco Guide & FAQ

Hello and congratulations on having been invited to Peace Corps Morocco! I wrote this guide/FAQ to address some of the questions and concerns that volunteers-to-be commonly have, and to try and disseminate some information I wish I’d known before coming. I should, however, make it clear that everything here has been influenced by my experiences and is written from my own perspective. I’ve tried to make my advice as general as possible while still being useful, but there is a common (and completely true) adage that every volunteer has a different experience, so keep that in mind and do not take anything I say as gospel.

Here is some basic information about me. I am male, 25 years old, and a second-year volunteer in the Small Business Development (SBD) sector. I am posted in a town located in the Atlas Mountains with a population of approximately 50,000, which makes it one of the largest sites. By volunteer standards I live luxuriously with fruits and vegetables available daily, easy access to transportation, and a large apartment with running water and electricity. I even have a refrigerator,hot shower, and DSL hooked up to my apartment. I never dreamed I would have these things when I applied to become a volunteer, but this is how things ended up and I am grateful for it.

Now onto what you really came for…

Welcome Book

It’s a good resource, and I would recommend reading it. This guide is meant to supplement the information in the Welcome Book, not replace it.

Location

Morocco has a varied geography and many different climate zones. This makes it harder to prepare, because you won’t know where your final site is until just before swearing in. Some places are bone-chilling and there will be winter days where you think you have never been so cold in your life. Others can get so hot you have trouble sleeping at night and during the day you can wash a pair of jeans, hang them up on the clothesline, and watch them dry in minutes. No matter what, you can be fairly sure that for about three months of the year, the weather is going to suck.

There are sites almost throughout Morocco. The only places you are guaranteed not to end up are areas south of the Tiznit/Tata regions and north of the Rabat-Meknes-Fes-Taza axis. In general, it seems that many health education (HE) volunteers get placed in the south (i.e. warmer regions), while environment (ENV) have more mountainous sites, located close to or within national parks and forests. Youth development (YD) and SBD are split fairly evenly.

Site size varies as much as climate. HE and ENV usually have the smallest sites, followed by SBD, and finally YD with the largest. SBD sites have the widest range of population, with some volunteers in tiny villages of 300 people and others in large cities of 100,000+. YD work in dar chebabs, or youth centers, so their towns are necessarily large enough to support a dar chebab and typically 10,000+ people. Staff sometimes will put females in smaller towns to minimize harassment issues, but they can and do end up in large sites.

During Pre-Service Training (PST) we were interviewed by our programming staff and could state any preferences we had such as climate, potential projects, site size, and access to running water/internet/etc. However, none of that was guaranteed and in fact in some cases was completely disregarded and people ended up with exactly the opposite of what they asked for. It was at the whim of our programming staff and where they decided our skills and background best fit.

Languages

There’s a lot to be said about languages, no pun intended. Morocco is like a melting pot of languages and almost everyone is at least bilingual. Occasionally you will run into polyglots (some PC staff for example) who speak five or more languages – Moroccan Arabic, Modern Standard Arabic (MSA), a Berber dialect, French, and English.

Volunteers learn one of three languages. Moroccan Arabic, known as Darija (which literally translates to ‘dialect’), is the most widely spoken in Morocco. Of the three main Berber dialects Tashelheet (Tash), Tamazight (Tam), and Tarafit, PC has language training for Tash and Tam. Tarafit is spoken in the Rif Mountains of northern Morocco, where a large percentage of the world’s supply of cannabis is cultivated, thus no volunteers are placed in that area. Tam is spoken by Berbers of the Middle Atlas, and Tash is the language of the High Atlas and the south. Generally, the larger your site, the more likely it is that Darija is the everyday language, and vice-versa for Tam and Tash in smaller sites.I believe all HE volunteers learn Tash and Tam. If any do Darija it is only a very small number.ENV can learn all three, with a bias towards the Berber dialects.

SBD can learn all three. In 2008 there was a bias toward Darija (60%) with a minority learning Tam, and no Tash CBT groups. In 2009, 40% learned Darija, 40% learned Tam, and 20% learned Tash. In 2010 there will only be Darija and Tam CBT groups.YD only get instruction in Darija, you don’t have a choice! But I know of a few volunteers that either switched to Berber after they got to their sites and decided it would be more useful, or started learning Berber in addition to Darija.

Thanks to Morocco’s legacy as a former French colony, French is by far the most commonly-spoken language that any of you are likely to know. Many big-city Moroccans are fluent in it, and even people in small villages usually know a few words. Spanish is common in the Rif area, which used to be a Spanish Protectorate. English is not very widely spoken. Having French knowledge can be nice, but is by no means necessary, and I and many other volunteers have never studied it either formally or informally.

Before anyone gets all excited about Darija and decides that is what they want to learn because knowing Arabic will help them get that dream job after Peace Corps, stop for a minute. Although Darija is related to MSA, it is only used colloquially and they are not mutually intelligible, so the usefulness of Darija is pretty limited outside of Morocco. It might give you a slight head-start if you decide to study MSA, but they are distinctly different languages both in terms of vocabulary and grammar. Moroccans will actually be much more impressed if you can speak Tam or Tash than if you learn Darija. With the changes to training that have occurred since I swore in, I’m not even sure you can express a preference anymore. My advice is stay open-minded and not let your heart get set on anything.

Many people wonder if they should do any independent language study before staging. PC sends out links to some Darija audio lessons and an introductory PDF (which is taken straight out of the Darija language manual that is used for training here), and I believe they also provide access to some French lessons via the peacecorps.gov website. Forget the French stuff unless you’ve had previous experience and want to brush up a little. The handiest thing would be learning numbers, say up to 20 or 30, because many times when you ask how much something costs, the shop-owner will see you are foreign and automatically reply in French.

Before coming I did not do any of the audio lessons or study the introductory PDF, and I have no regrets about that. Not to say they couldn’t be useful, but one hour in PST is probably equal to ten hours of studying on your own. It would also be a bit of a downer if you spent a lot of time studying Darija and then get here only to find out you got assigned to a Berber CBT group. If you do want to take advantage of those tools then I would recommend going over the greetings and numbers (lessons 2, 3, 19, 20, and 21). Those you can use the moment you land in Morocco, and you’ll need them even if you end up learning Berber.

Luggage

Regular suitcases are fine and you can use them later in your house for storage or to keep your clothes reasonably organized. Hiking packs are very popular and definitely work well for the many times you will be traveling, since they’re usually more practical than trying to roll a suitcase around. And if you are planning on doing any trekking or camping, then it’s a no-brainer to bring one. I usually stick with a duffel bag or backpack for traveling. Suitcases and duffel/travel bags are in plentiful supply here so you can always buy one later if you need to. A normal backpack or messenger bag is essential. Bring luggage locks with you because you will definitely want to use them when you are traveling around Morocco. There are TSA-approved locks that you can leave on your baggage after it is checked and TSA willnot break it.

If the papers they sent you in your invitation packet are the same ones I got, then you’ll have a flyer which says something about being able to bring two pieces of checked-in luggage but the combined weight cannot be more than 80 pounds. Ignore this; here is what you really need to know:

All major U.S. carriers are now charging for checked baggage; it will be something like $15 for the first bag and $25 for the second. Save your receipts for those and you will be reimbursed at staging. You will not be reimbursed for more than two checked pieces. Also, please save yourself a lot of potential trouble and make absolutely sure that no individual piece exceeds more than 50 pounds. Use a bathroom scale to check before you leave for the airport. Once you go over 50 pounds you will trigger all kinds of ridiculous fees which PC will not reimburse.

On the Royal Air Maroc flight from New York to Casablanca, the limit is basically identical (23 kilograms), and you can check two bags at no cost so you don’t have to pay anything out of pocket. Basically what this means is that you can have two 50 pound bags for a total of 100 pounds, not the 80 that is stated. Finally, do not count on there being people who have room to spare that will take some of your stuff on the flight over.

One great tip I got was to pack an empty duffel bag in one of my suitcases. During PST you get a huge stack of books, manuals, and handouts, not to mention the medical kit. Once I got to Morocco I just got that bag out and put all my training materials in it instead of trying to cram them into my luggage with the rest of my things.

Electronics

Electricity: almost every volunteer has electricity in their house, even if it’s just one outlet. However, the plugs, voltage, and cycle are the European standard and different from the US. US electricity is 120 volts at 60 hertz, while in Morocco electricity is 240 volts at 50 hertz and the plugs have two round prongs.

Power adapters vs. power converters: an adapter is small device that allows you to plug a North American appliance into a European outlet. It does not alter the power in any way. A converter is larger and bulkier, and will either ‘step-up’ (120v -> 240v) or ‘step-down’ (240v -> 120v, which is what you want in this case) the voltage, in addition to changing the plug so you can use it in a European outlet.

Almost all high-end electronics are self-converting and can accept both 120v and 240v. For example, look at your laptop’s power brick. It should say something like ‘Input: 110-240v, 50-60Hz’. Ditto for things like mobile phone chargers and digital camera battery chargers. If it says that, all you need is the adapter to plug it in.

However, many simpler electronics like hair dryers and curling irons are only designed for 120 volts and in that case you need the more expensive converter like this. Make sure your device does not exceed the wattage rating of the converter.

Solar chargers: I wouldn’t bring one. You will almost certainly have electricity in your house. I believe there are only one or two volunteers in the entire country that do not have electricity.

Batteries: all common formats including AA, AAA, and 9v are readily available here and about as expensive as they are in the US, so save the weight and don’t pack extra. If you have something that takes batteries which you know you will be using frequently, e.g. a digital camera, then rechargeables are a good investment.

Laptops: some people don’t want to bring one and they get along just fine. However, if you are undecided about what to do, I recommend bringing it. There are an increasing amount of surveys, reports, forms, and other paperwork that you need to complete for PC, not to mention any number of other work-related things that are much less painful with your own computer. It’s also a lot more convenient to type up blog posts and replies to emails from the comfort of your own home rather than struggling with French keyboards at the cybercafé. A lot of volunteers find they use their a lot for downloads, watching movies, etc. on those evenings that can become long and boring alone. Be aware that if you have a Mac, hardware and software support may be hard to come by or simply nonexistent.

Internet: cybercafés, or cybers, are cheap and littered throughout the country. The vast majority of volunteers are within one hour from a cyber. I’d say at least 50% of SBD volunteers can get internet in their home, either with a wireless modem through Wana or a hardwired DSL connection through Maroc Telecom. 95% of YD volunteers can get internet in their home. If you are ENV or HE you’ll just have to pray. Not everyone that can get it does, as it takes up a sizable chunk of your monthly living allowance. Computers at cybers all have MSN Messenger and Skype installed already if you want to chat with family and friends. Cyber owners will let you bring your own laptop and plug the Ethernet cable in (some places also have wifi), which is nice as you’ll have all your programs and bookmarks available.

USB drives: watching movies and TV shows is a favorite activity of volunteers and we like to swap movies and music whenever there is a get-together. An external USB hard drive will be invaluable for this and general backup and storage, and highcapacity drives are readily available for less than $100. Don’t forget a small USB thumb drive as well to take to the cyber so you can print things, and make sure your laptop has updated antivirus software.

iPod: essential for relieving boredom during interminably long bus/taxi/train rides. Many volunteers rave about podcasts and download them at the cyber so they can listen to them the rest of the week and keep up to date with the news.

Mobile phones: text messages are the primary method of communication between volunteers, and Peace Corps also relies heavily on mobile phones to get information to us. There are two large operators, Maroc Telecom and Meditel. Both have service throughout most of the country, although I believe that Maroc Telecom’s network is slightly larger. If you have a GSM phone you can bring it with you and get it unlocked here for a few dirhams, saving yourself some money. A new SIM card is 20-30 dirhams. There are some plans but they work differently than in the US and are relatively expensive, so most people opt to buy phone cards and add credit as needed. One thing to note is that the GSM service here is on 900 MHz. If your phone does not support this then leave it at home as it will not work here. Any quad-band phone will definitely work here. Tri-band phones with 900/1800/1900 will also work. Look in the manual or call your phone company to find out which frequencies your phone supports.

Hair clippers: I thought it would be smart to bring one and save money cutting my hair, but it turned out to be a waste of space. Haircuts are dirt cheap here (10-15 dirhams, 5 more with a shave) so I would pack something else.

Insurance: I didn’t get any electronics insurance but I think Peace Corps includes some suggestions in the invitation packet. You can have the premiums automatically taken out of your readjustment allowance as an allotment.

Household

Water: running water is more of a rarity than electricity. If you are a HE or ENV volunteer, I would not count on having it, but you may be pleasantly surprised. Some of you will become very familiar with how to boil and bleach well water. As far as I know, PC here does not supply water filters.

Sheets: since bed sizes vary, and you won’t know until several months into training if you are replacing a volunteer (and will thus have a chance to purchase or be gifted their furniture), you may want to hold off on bringing bed sheets. Your host families may have some, and they will definitely have blankets. I had my family mail me a set once I knew what size bed I would have. Note that they don't sell fitted sheets in Morocco.

Cooking: PC will give you a great cookbook that has been written by volunteers and contains Morocco-specific recipes and advice as well as common translations. Unless you are totally averse to it, you will have plenty of time to improve your cooking skills. You may even surprise yourself!

Kitchen supplies: there are a few spices and other items are hard to find here or simply not available. A few that I can think of off the top of my head are basil, curry powder, vanilla extract, and brown sugar. Many volunteers have them shipped here, but if you think you will be using any of those you can just bring them. I would recommend a basic set of measuring cups and spoons as well. The recipes in the cookbook are all given in standard measurements, whereas things here are usually given in metric. And finally, one thing that I would seriously consider is a decent knife. Even a $15 santoku from Target will absolutely blow away the dull, weak, sad excuses for knives that you will find here.

Personal Care

Shampoo, conditioner, body wash, lotion, and shaving cream of major brands are all available here. I used up quite a bit of space bringing three cans of shaving cream and other things that were, in retrospect, totally unnecessary. Unless you need something specific, you can pack something else instead. You can also pick up sunscreen from the medical unit in Rabat for free. The quality of the sunscreen varies depending on what they have at any given time. Previously you could request sunscreen and lotion to be mailed to you, but unfortunately they stopped doing this in order to cut costs, and lotion is no longer available at all.

Razor blades: you can find these fairly easily. I have seen both Mach 3 and Quattro blades in shops in my site, although you may need to go to your souk town to get them. I assume that women’s razors are widely available as well.

Small bottles for shampoo, body wash, etc: it is worth your time to pick up a few of these from the store. They come in very handy since the hotels that Peace Corps uses are pretty basic (besides the staging hotel in Philadelphia) and probably won’t provide anything. You will also use them when you go to the hammam, or public bath, and whenever you travel in general.

And don’t forget a set of shower flip flips, a large towel, and washcloth. You can buy these in Morocco, but they are things you will need right away and you might not have time to go around looking for them since the first few days are so busy. You can look online or at outdoors stores such as REI for lightweight, fast-drying towels that work very well and are nice for traveling. However, a normal cotton towel is also just fine and is what I use.

Contact lens solution: may be purchased in well-stocked pharmacies in larger towns. I believe they run around 100 dirhams ($12) for a large bottle. Bring at least a few months’ supply with you. I’ve never seen hard contact solution here, only soft.

Medical kit: as mentioned before, Peace Corps gives you a small black case filled with various medical supplies. This has quite a few things in it, from ibuprofen and a thermometer to band-aids and condoms. Aside from sunscreen you can also request multivitamins, pepto, insect repellant, eye drops, etc. One thing that is not provided is toothpaste and toothbrushes. Dental floss may still be available unless that was also cut, but it is unflavored and unwaxed.

Clothing

“Business casual” clothing is mentioned in the invitation materials but is almost entirely a waste of space. You may want one nicer outfit and set of shoes for swearing in, but I wouldn’t put too much thought into it. Ties and polished shoes are totally unnecessary, and a pair of khakis and a button-up shirt should suffice for men. You may catch some flak from the PC Washington staff at staging if you don’t at least make some effort, but the truth is that will have no effect on your service. You can just wear the same clothes for three days in a row – in fact, I would recommend getting used to that!

Cold weather gear: most people envision a boiling hot sun and endless sands when they get placed in Morocco, but the winters can be brutal. The concepts of insulation and interior heating have not quite made it here. As I type this, it is about 40 degrees both inside and outside. I would bring at least the following: waterproof winter parka, warm leather gloves, a fleece top, set of thermal underwear, and several pairs of wool socks. Consider that a starting point, as ENV volunteers in particular will probably want more. The good news is that if you are coming as ENV or HE, you have seven or eight months before you have to face a full Moroccan winter – plenty of time to assess the weather at your site and have your family mail you additional clothes. High quality winter clothing can be hard to find here, which I why I advise bringing it with you. Even if you do get a very hot site, you will be traveling during the winter so these things will still be useful.

Other clothing: jeans are great since they are comfortable, durable, and don’t show dirt and stains very obviously. You will find that dress etiquette in many sites means you can’t wear shorts in public. I have no problem in my site as a male, but I rarely see Moroccan men wearing shorts. A light waterproof shell/windbreaker can be very useful, as the country was in a drought for several decades but has received a surprising amount of rain and snow the last few years. Layering is important, so try and bring clothes that you can add or shed easily. And don’t forget a swimsuit!

Shoes: I wore x-trainers or tennis shoes 95% of the time in the US, and I do the same here. I took my dress shoes back for good when I went home on vacation. A lot of people live in their Chacos/Tevas and go from wearing sandals one day to boots the next, and straight back to sandals after the winter is other. I don’t think hiking boots are necessary as I hike as much as anyone I know and get by fine withx-tra iners. Many companies offer discounts for Peace Corps volunteers; you just need to contact them to ask about it.

Other items to consider bringing

Sunglasses: you can buy a pair here, but the problem is you can’t be sure if they have UV protection since they are all knockoffs.

Nalgene bottle or Camelbak: I would bring a Nalgene bottle or equivalent at the minimum.

Swiss army knife or Leatherman: quite nice to have, not only for the household uses but also for the bottle and wine openers!

Maps: they make for good wall decorations and you should bring at least a Moroccan map (that includes Western Sahara). Michelin #742 is very detailed, and I also have the laminated and waterproof Borch Morocco map.

Flashlight: the electricity goes out a fair amount, so it’s good to have one of these to go along with your candles. LED flashlights are bright and the batteries will last forever. You can also try and get a phone with a light built in.

Sleeping bag: I use mine all the time, not only when I travel but also when people stay at my house and we run out of blankets.

Pocket French dictionary: sometimes you just can’t explain the word you need in Darija or Berber, but they might know the French word. Also handy for deciphering restaurant menus.

Travel alarm clock: not needed in my opinion. I use my phone as an alarm.

Miscellaneous Information

Bringing money: you shouldn’t have to bring any. Peace Corps will give you well over $100 in cash at staging for per diem and spending money. You may want to notify your bank that you are moving overseas as there are many ATMs here where you can use your bank card in the case of an emergency.

Host family gifts: you will have two host families, one during CBT and one at final site. I brought some candy, crayons, and small souvenir trinkets like key chains and postcards. The first time I met each family I gave them fresh fruit, and before I left I handed out the other gifts. I would not worry too much about finding gifts as you can get things here if need be. Unusual or interesting things are great if you have the time, but they will also appreciate practical items. When I went to the US a year into service, I brought back more substantial gifts for my host families and Moroccan friends.

Bikes: Peace Corps will provide a nice mountain bike once you get to your final site. You also get supplies like a tire pump, helmet, patch kit, etc.

Books: the office in Rabat has an extensive collection of books, both professionally oriented and for leisure reading. There are also things such as GRE study manuals, travel guides, calendars, and periodicals available. M’hamed is the librarian and will mail anything to you on request. Volunteers also trade books around frequently.

Reliability of mail ranges from good to questionable depending on your specific post office (try to befriend the employees and manager). It takes 2 or 3 weeks for things to get here from the US, and vice versa. If you get a package, especially a larger one, expect it to be opened and inspected by customs. You may have to pay a duty, depending on what is in it. All of the packages that have been sent to me arrived without anything missing, but I had to pay duties on several. Some people have had things stolen from packages before they picked them up – sometimes valuable things. The only surefire way to get something from the US to Morocco without duties is to have a family member or friend bring it when they come to visit.

Setting boundaries

I include this as a final bit of advice because many new volunteers aren’t quite sure what to do when a Moroccan asks them for something or possibly starts to take advantage of them. Remember that you always have the right to say no, and the earlier you set your own boundaries the better off you will be.

For example, what do you do if your host brother asks you if he can use your computer for the day? You may like him a lot and feel you can trust him, or simply want to accommodate him because you are living with his family. However, what would happen if it was stolen, or he dropped the computer, or spilled tea on it? It is hard to imagine that he would be able to replace the computer. During my homestays loaned a few small items that were not exactly returned to me in the same condition. It was nothing serious but I took that as a lesson and am very careful about whom I loan things to now. Realize that you are the only one that has ultimate responsibility for your belongings!

That is one example of what boundaries mean, but it can extend into many other areas. If you are full, don’t let them convince you to eat more. They will not stop when they think you have had enough, they will simply keep telling you to eat. Don’t feel bad about saying no because you don’t want to offend anyone – in fact, it is a cultural norm that dictates how they are acting, you just need to learn the proper way to respond to it. If you have any cultural questions, you shouldn’t hesitate to ask your LCF or any other Moroccan staff. Remember, that’s their job!

It has taken me far longer than anticipated to cover what I consider the topics of interest in this guide, but I hope that future volunteers find the information helpful. One last suggestion I have is to read the blogs of current PC Morocco volunteers. There is a wealth of knowledge contained in those blogs and it will give you an invaluable glimpse into what your life could be like in a few months! Thank you for reading this, and if you have any questions or would just like to talk, I can always be reached through e-mail. Good luck and I wish you a fantastic two years in Morocco!

Colin Huerter

SBD ‘08-10

colin@huerter.com"

Fair trade is a “people powered” movement towards global economic justice. The fair trade supply-chain model cuts out the vast network of middlemen, connecting the lives of consumers and producers more directly. Producers receive a living wage in their local context. Retailers buy from them directly. And shoppers are no longer blind to their dollar vote. For artisans, the fair trade business model also means a new found voice and price stability for their products.

This ideal motivated me to accept Peace Corps Morocco’s invitation and work with women’s artisan cooperatives, as detailed in the job description. Close the case studies, climb out from behind the computer and hang up the phone! I don’t need to interview and write about other people doing amazing work. Where’s my plane ticket? And who are my artisans? I came enthusiastic to see this concept in action. I wanted to open doors and let the world can hear their stories.

I’m now two years from that moment and wrapping up my work with a women’s Association. I’ve clocked countless hours crocheting alongside the women, improving their technique and introducing new ones. I brought samples of their products to Peace Corps trainings for feedback, sales and confidence-building. I jumped at opportunities to meet store owners and designers on their behalf, digging deep into Peace Corps’ meager living allowance. When it came time to attend craft fairs, I (almost literally) cornered them into coming. Swiya b swiya, ladies started showing a new found enthusiasm and courage to travel outside the village. Countless women approached me, eager to attend the next m3arid. I hustled in order to move the golden arrow of Economics. As I sit back now, I’m humbled by the realization of what I’ve given them in the grand scheme of things- a drop in the bucket. They’ve come a long way. However, they are still light years away from exporting to Fair Trade retailers such as Ten Thousand Villages. And that’s perfectly okay.

In the midst of this hustle and bustle, I tried to live as I preach. I wholeheartedly support the ideals of Fair Trade and want to give as much as I receive. The most fulfilling relationships are mutually beneficial. I bring the vegetables and coconut milk. You bring the rice and curry paste. She brings the brownies. Together, we feast like kings.

I found this equation rather simple in the States among trusted friends. I never took more than I could give. And my friends respected the same code. Loaned money is best immediately repaid. Sure, you can borrow my black shirt dress if can I wear your gray sweater? Both parties returned the respective borrowed items in a timely fashion and in their original condition. There's clarity in what's mine and what's yours. There's clarity in the terms and conditions surrounding such exchanges. We're culturally groomed to understand. No one wants to be that friend.

Coming to Morocco, I found these lines blurred. Living "tic for tac" became easier said than done. In the early months of service, I felt as if I was running up a huge debt to community members. They were patient and understanding. Countless women were eager to show me the ropes and provide perspective, as previous volunteers provided insight on my experience. I remember taking mid-morning walks around my village. Without fail, families opened their doors, inviting me for tea, snack and meals. Being a Peace Corps Volunteer in this village, meant becoming a valued member of a family community. Love runs deep. My Moroccan counterparts were happy to tllay fiya (take care of me). Benevolent humanitarian? Perhaps "rockstar life" more accurately described my role.

However, Moroccans quickly came knocking on my door for favors, literally and figuratively. One by one, they pried to see how far they could get. "I'm short on money this month with my child's illness. Can you help?" "My head hurts and don't you can a suitcase full of medicine?" "Can I borrow your camera? I'm visiting my aunt this weekend." "My mother will die of cancer if I don't find the money to pay for her trip and medicine."

Some borrowed crochet hooks became forever lost. I lent Uno cards on several occasions. Sometimes, they returned battered and worn, until one day they too disappeared. I've given small sums of money, knowing quite well these debts will not be repaid. Neighborhood children often gather in my house for an informal, after school daycare. We spend many days playing games, coloring and painting. On several occasions, I unknowingly (but passively) allowed kids take home crayons, pens or toys. The rest of the day, I wrestled with my decision. "Okay. I've been taken advantage of. But next time!"

For many reasons, Moroccans don't count favors in this respect. I learned this early in my service one night, when I stayed over the Laifats's for snack, dinner and then bedtime. Several weeks prior, I visited their aunt in a neighboring village. I had taken photos and therefore printed them out upon request. Saida apologized for owing me money on the photos. I laughed. Although Peace Corps does not pay us like kings, I haven’t felt the pinch of this extra expense. I told her, “Look how many times I’ve come over and eat from you! That’s money and I’ll pay you in photos!” She looks surprised and confused. “Hshuma. It’s not like this.” she said, shaking her head. “Our house is your house. Come over, eat dinner, stay or don’t stay. Do as you like. You are always welcome. We don’t think like this.”

I do not wish to summarize my experience in crayons given and bread eaten. This equation is ridiculous and by no means the "take-away" of this Peace Corps service. I had to learn how to set boundaries and be comfortable with my decisions. Rather, this experience's beauty lies in the cross-cultural discussions on life, love, careers, religions, you name it. It rests in the times I called upon them frustrated after a bad day. And, as real friends do, returned the favor by being their shoulder to cry on. Vis versa, we're there to double joy in reaching life's milestones. I cannot tally up these experiences as expenses paid and expenses received on an Excel sheet. The accounting sheet is completely irrelevant.

Earlier this month, I have the joy of returning to my training community. I spent time with my host family and acquaintances, retracing familiar footsteps. I made house visits with host sister, Nouzha, after lftor (breaking of Ramadan fast). Thankfully, this time around, I had the language, self-confidence and comfort I lacked during training. At a family friend's house, the women exclaimed what an eclectic mix I am. Nouzha responded in agreement, “She's a Chinese-American, who can speak Darija like a true Houarian! She's become a Moroccan, one of us. You don’t find that everywhere." "True," I said, “But here’s my sister who, like her family, has opened doors to two very different Americans. You have loved both of us as their own. And we've loved you as family too. Hadi shi haja. That's something.”

Upon a cross-cultural collision, both parties enrich and broaden each other's lives. Deciphering precise fairness in the exchange's fine print discounts its significance. I've found that the beauty is the exchange itself and subsequent lessons learned. I'm blessed to have worked, lived and grown alongside them. And I'm equally humbled to know that they have taken something away. There's no numeric value I can assign to the good enjoyed as a result. Now that's what makes this experience a "fair trade."

I spent this past weekend at Donna's village. She asked me to help her facilitate a follow-up cheese making workshop. At the Taroudant Craft Fair, Donna met a goat milk seller, who could not turn profit on selling milk. Donna told her of a cheese making workshop Lisa Payne had conducted the week prior. They successfully made yogurt cheese, feta, cottage cheese, cheesecake, you name it. Perhaps the woman could profit from the value added. Since Donna now knows how to make cheese, all I needed to do was translate.

Regretfully, the woman called the morning before sending her regrets. She had a meeting in Taroudant and therefore could not make it to the workshop. By this time, I already arrived. Such goes life in Morocco. What do we do now?

Lucky for us, Lisa can work miracles in the kitchen. She has an amazing ice cream recipe, which uses readily available ingredients in Morocco. What could be more fulfilling on a 130 degree day?! The ladies at Donna's Association couldn't agree more! We ran to the hanut (corner store), bought necessary ingredients and lead an ice cream workshop for 12 people. We made two flavors of ice cream- chocolate and apricot. The first time, Donna and I handled everything. For the second batch, we asked the women to take over. Bouchra, who is at the top of the Arabic literacy classes, immediately rolled back her sleeves and happily demonstrated her new learned knowledge. With promises of an afternoon ice cream social, the women agreed to meet again in the evening.

The ice cream took a bit longer than expected to freeze. Donna and I used this time to conduct a team building exercise. We gave everyone a picture of a tree. In the ground by the tree roots, we instructed them to draw things they loved- their foundation. In the tree's leaves, we had them draw their hopes and dreams. It took constant encouragement for the women to start filling up their paper. But pretty soon, the women were giggling and drawing away. After an hour or so of drawing, we asked each of the women to present her tree. It was humbling to hear what they had to share. I think this activity does a great job not only of team building, but individual empowerment. This might have been the first time anyone has asked these women to think seriously about goals and the future. It also is a rare opportunity for these women to speak in front of a group.

** Association members drawing their trees.

When Donna ran to grab the ice cream, I also walked them through a simple math exercise. We calculated the ice cream costs. Not counting labor, it takes 20 MAD to make a tub of ice cream! Everyone got a spoon and scoopfuls of homemade ice cream. What a treat! What a day!

Last night, me and my 12 year old neighbor, Omayma, made chocolate and banana ice cream. By morning, the ice cream was ready to eat! With three spoons, Fatima (her mother), Omayma and I dug into the tupperware Moroccan style (eating directly from the tupperware while respecting our "triangles."). Ice cream for breakfast! Is there any other way to start a summer day?

**Chocolate and banana ice cream

I have found that if you love life,

Life will love you back.

-- Arthur Rubinstein

Summer days have a wonderful way of dragging her feet. Days melt together into one drawn out thought. Life is a perpetual snooze mode. And I've tremendously enjoyed living in this unwound fashion! I have all the time in the world to savor precious moments in Morocco and cross off some to-dos. Wake me up in 100 or so days.

What I have been occupying myself with:

* Good reads. I've been reading with a renewed appetite. I polished off Culture Shock! Morocco, Amartya Sen's Development As Freedom, Malcolm Gladwell's Outliers: The Story of Success and A Billion Bootstraps: Barefoot Banking by Smith and Thurmon. I'm diving into The Sheltering Sky by Paul Bowles.

* Drawing and painting on my walls! When I was little, I often stole away to doodle on the wall or bedroom dressers. My parents did not think too highly of my artist expression. And I, deservingly, endured subsequent beatings. Finally at 24, I finally know what I want to say on my canvas-like walls.

** My piece of Moroccan heaven.

* Hiking Jbel Toubkal, the tallest peak in North Africa. What a challenge! If I could do the trek all over again, I'd wear my other sneakers and avoid the painful blisters. Of course, the view from the top, company of good people and bragging rights made it worth the while.

** Trek from Imlil to Base Camp

** View from 4,167 meters up!

* Seeing Aicha's bled. I'm at a loss of words to describe her family and my short time there. I'm blessed to have had the opportunity to visit.

** Small oasis, photos from around the house

* Bringing home the bride. There have been several occasions I have been asked to joining the family and "bring home" the bride. This involves staying awake until 3am, climbing into a pick-up truck while horns blaze and singing all the way. In the past, I have politely declined. Thanks, but no thanks. I'd rather have a good night's sleep. But when Khadija asked me last week, I resisted my natural inclination. Why not? What other time would I be able to have this experience? And like that, I was swept into a broken record of slow slams (the song they sing when the bride enters the room).

* Documenting my learned lessons. In many respects, the Association is still in their its infancy stages. In a recent conversation with several Association members, they commented how lucky they were to have the Women's Center and be apart of the income-generating project. There's plenty of meaningful work (though at times frustrating) for another volunteer. I wonder what she's doing right now....

Could you take my picture,

Cause I won't remember.

-- Filter, "Take A Picture"

In America, almost everyone takes photos of everything. With digital cameras and countless websites to upload photos, you no longer need to be famous to be followed by paparazzi. In an afternoon family picnic, the Chens can easily snap 60 photos. And that's without the relatives. We don't leave any moment undocumented.

Taking photos in Morocco has been more of an improvisational dance. On most occasions, I bring my camera. Some people love this. They know I'm the resident photographer. They strike Zoolander's blue steel and instruct me to start the photo shoot. Others lose their ability to breathe properly until I put away the AK-47-like weapon. They tell me the Koran prohibits taking photos of videos of individuals. It's haraam. Humans shouldn't imitate the creation of Allah.

To take a photo or not has been relatively easy to understand. After a year and half living among these women, I know their individual comfort levels with photos. And I respect their choices. I tuck away my camera around those who do not wish to be photographed. To those who want photos, I tell them to bring me a CD. They can bring the photos to the printer and pay for it. Simple, right? Not quite.

Last month, the Association organized its first outing. We spent a beautiful, sun-kissed day at a remote beach about 25 kilometers north of Agadir. A total of 33 women and 10 children loaded the bus, devoured over 100 pieces of bread and 12 chickens, splashed in the Atlantic's crashing waves. I brought my camera and snapped away over 140 photos.

"Touria, print out the photos of me. Tell me the price and I'll pay."

If only printing out 100-odd photos for over 33 people were that easy. I didn't think it was realistic to take everyone's "order," collect money, print everything and distribute. Weighting the past's inconsistencies of paying me for photos, I decided to copy the day's photos onto a CD. I explained to the women that this would be shared among them. If you want a photo, take it to the printer yourself and select which ones. Once you've done that, pass it on to the next lady. This scared the women. Saidia immediately grabbed the CD and shoved it into her purse. I mistook this as her eager anticipation to see the photos. As she later explained, it to protect any possible hshuma (shame) that could result.

Suddenly, the community engaged me in a deeper conversation about picture taking, going beyond conservative or liberal. Hesitation about being in a photo also stems from issues of uncertainty and trust. Sitting down with several families, they all explained how boys love to photo-shop. "Imagine what hshuma can come out of that. Imagine if any of that got online." A fellow PCV once spent an afternoon teaching the paid city's artisana IT man, who had little computer skills, how to cut and paste face shoots onto dancing animal cartoons. Ok. I can see where they're coming from but...

"If you trust everyone, how could they get the photos?" I asked.

"It's not the women. It's the boys. The photos are on the CD, right?" the ladies replied. Then they begged me to print these photos on everyone's behalf. Don't worry they told me, they will pay.

I wasn't satisfied with the answer. After countless discussions, I still didn't find, what my cultural lens tells me, is a logical answer. To me, there's a huge jump from the photos being on the CD to in the hands of a bored and malicious boy. And how does me taking all the photos to the print shop any different? If the print shop doesn't erase it photos, a bored and malicious boy could just as easily twist our picnic memories. Furthermore, several girls have shown me beauty shots of themselves, without a scarf, dolled up and in somewhat revealing clothing. What's the difference? Can't that already hshuma photo slip into the wrong hands? I want to decipher their cultural logic but have a hard time doing so.

With each conversation comes two cups of understanding and three cups of confusion. It seems to me, they fear photos leaking onto the internet above all. "You put all your photos on your computer, right? When it's online, boys will see it. And you know what boys do." My middle-class America self screams inside my head. 1) There's a difference between photos being on my computer and online. 2) I'd like to think that not everyone plays pocket pong to every photo seen online. With one porn site for every ten websites, wouldn't you think there are more suitable places to go?

They reminded me of Mina's predicament when she saw herself on Mushmina's blog. In fall 2009, the two sisters came to my site and ran a wonderful beading workshop. The women finally met Heather and Katie while gaining stylistic tips. They posted this on their website, demonstrating the grassroots development work their brand reaches. Months later, Mina saw this and initially cringed. What if her husband caught her photo online? To me, it's a blurry shot of her, fully covered and conservatively dressed. The benefits outweigh her unrealistic fear of being photo-shopped. Then, I remind myself to see things from her view not mine. From there, I can see the issues of access and control.

However, I honestly struggle with this last point. I think photos can be quite powerful in capturing aspects of my experience. Looking over my past posts, I've uploaded numerous photos. But I didn't ask permission from the subjects. Quite selfishly, I don't want to take them down. Some do a great job as explaining moments I've enjoyed, my work and life here. I will probably continue doing so. I'd like to think that if I showed each women the educational value of a photo, they, like Mina, would overcome the fear of online imagines. I think it's one of the most powerful tools in achieving Peace Corps' goal three, namely to explain the host country and its culture to Americans. Afterall, a picture is worth 1,000 words... to us, that is. To them, a picture can mean a million other things.

As my days in Morocco count me down, I realize all the photos I wish I had- me crocheting alongside the women, morning aerobic classes, the women praying in unison, sheep stampeding in front of the mosque after a long day out in the fields. Most likely, I will never take these shots. But I hope I can remember.

With certain individuals, you can feel the fire within their souls. They light up the room and make their presence felt. Perhaps it's how they carry themselves. Perhaps it's how others treat them. Or a combination of the two. Such is Amina Yabis, president of Cherry Buttons Cooperative. She's a force to be reckoned with.

In my service, I had several encounters with her. Amina is a firecracker and tireless worker. She's also the engine that drives the Cherry Buttons Cooperative. The cooperative started when several women decided that middlemen should no longer profit from their jellaba button-making. Since its foundation 10 years ago, the cooperative has reached markets throughout Morocco, in Europe and the United States. Their line of products has expanded to include jellaba button jewelry, scarves, blankets, natural dye rugs and so forth. It has since empowered over 200 families, opening avenues of economic opportunity. Furthermore, Amina has traveled throughout Morocco, giving workshops on natural dyes and how to form a cooperative, among other topics.

While the cooperative generates income, its sister Association, Golden Buttons Association, organizes community development activities. It had a hand in helping start 15 literacy classes in Sefrou. Perhaps most notably, Amina Yabis and the Association have raised self-awareness among girls through Camp GLOW (Girls Leading Our World). This week-long camp invites inspiring female role models to show young, rural girls what life could be. I've touched upon some gender issues here in Morocco. And I firmly believe that there needs to be a public dialogue on females taking control of their lives. Camp GLOW is one, but nevertheless important, piece of the movement.

*** This year, the camp will fall in early August. If you plan to donate, please do so by July 1st. Click: http://www.highatlasfoundation.org/donate. Scroll down to "Make A Secure Donation." Afterwards, VERY IMPORTANT, please send an email to haf@highatlasfoundation.org, letting them know that your donation is for Camp GLOW. HAF is a U.S. 501c3 nonprofit organization and will send receipts for tax purposes to all donors. Every dollar you donate goes directly to the camp. Take a moment to make a difference!! ***

This July, Amina will be attending the Santa Fe Folk Art Festival, the largest international folk art market in the world. In addition, the Museum of International Folk Art is featuring the Cherry Buttons Cooperative in their exhibition entitled, "Empowering Women: Artisan Cooperatives That Transform Communities." Read the following press release for more information.

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Museum of International Folk Art The ten women's cooperatives in the exhibition EMPOWERING WOMEN: ARTISAN COOPERATIVES THAT TRANSFORM COMMUNITIES Umoja Uaso Women's Group, Kenya, photograph by Aaron Kisner (Santa Fe, NM, June 11, 2010)-Ten women's artisan cooperatives will be represented in the Museum of International Folk Art's Gallery of Conscience inaugural exhibition, Empowering Women. These co-ops are from Swaziland, South Africa, Nepal, Lao PDR, India, Peru, Bolivia, Morocco, Kenya, and Rwanda. You may read more about the exhibition here. Swaziland: Phez'kwemkhono Bomake-Ncheka Cooperative Today more than 50 local women work in the cooperative making baskets to earn money for their families and to provide support for the community's many AIDS orphans. Their earnings have transformed the lives of hundreds of AIDS orphans funding education, clothing, a soup kitchen, medicine, home-base care for the bedridden, and hospital services. South Africa: Mapula Embroidery Project With embroidery members of this collective call attention to the joys and hardships of their homeland. Scenes range from the nostalgic depicting animals and village life to current issues such as crime, AIDS, unemployment, to alcohol addiction. Maria Rengane, founder of the Mapula (Mother of Rain) Embroidery Project said; "I would like to spend all of the years of my life helping communities do things like this project for themselves. This is how you build a strong successful nation." Nepal: Janakpur Women's Development Center The women of the Mhathili culture were renowned for painting designs on the mud walls of their village homes for weddings, festivals, and other special occasions. When Claire Burkett, a New England college graduate arrived in the Nepalese lowlands in 1989, she thought if the women painted their beautiful, spontaneous images onto handmade paper, they could be sold to an outside market, and increase their socio-economic status. Today, more than forty women travel daily to the Janakpur Center, a huge step for women who were not allowed to leave their homes. Lao PDR: OckPopTok Ten years ago this coop was founded by a London fashion photographer and the daughter of a master weaver from the Mekong region of Lao Peoples Democratic Republic. OckPopTok means "East Meets West." OckPopTok has grown from a one-room weaving studio for local weavers to an internationally recognized heritage destination, gallery, retreat center and women's weaving collaborative for more than 200 artisans in three provinces and seven villages. This cooperative is as likely to sell wall hangings inspired by Mark Rothko as the traditional skirts woven with Laotian motifs. India: Self-Employed Women's Association Trade Facilitation Center SEWA includes more than 3,500 artisan shareholders in 80 villages in India's western state of Gujarat. The women - all skilled home-based embroidery and textile artisans - are the producers, managers, and owners of their collective livelihood. The women run every phase of the business and their success has translated into building a legacy of respect where previously they were known either by their father's or husband's name and are now known by their given name - part of the tradition these women want to pass on for their daughters. Peru: Centro de Textiles Tradicionales del Cusco Hand-woven textiles in the Peruvian Andes are an important social and ethnic marker and a significant part of the cultural heritage of the region. Nilda Callanaupa, granddaughter of a master weaver who herself was weaving by age seven, founded this coop in 2005 to preserve traditions that were dying out. Today the CTTC is in nine regions of Peru, each supporting its own cooperative structure and a state-of-the-art museum of Andean textiles and a weaving training center, the CTTC in Cusco has become a destination for tourists and community members alike. Bolivia: Cheque Oitedie Cooperative The 45 women in this cooperative plant and harvest the bromeliad and produce and market hand-woven and dyed fiber bags to an international market. The group's sales amount to more than 60% of the total community income and now they manage a collective bank account for the first time. Morocco: Women's Button Cooperative of Sefrou Amina Yabis, a typical Moroccan Muslim housewife and mother of four boys ran unsuccessfully for public office in 1997. This left her with a clear realization: women needed first to have access to the cash economy to be successful in public life. Over the next few years Amina organized more than 400 women from her province into a craft association called Golden Buttons. Economic success led to the formation in 2000 of the Women's Button Cooperative of Sefrou, a for-profit cooperative that was the fist of its kind organized by women. The cooperative has ventured into other crafts and training programs to expand opportunities for Moroccan women for successful engagement in public life. Kenya: Umoja Uaso Women's Group The beginning of the Umoja Uaso Women's Group in Kenya was not about art. It was about survival. Rebecca Lolosoli and 16 other home-less women founded the village of Umoja Uaso in 1990 as a refuge fro Samburu women who ere victims of rape, beatings, forced marriage, genital cutting, and other violent domestic crimes. Umoja, which means "unity" is now a safe have for women and girls fleeing abuse. The women of Umoja sell their tribe's elaborately beaded jewelry and crafts, both traditional and contemporary, to provide for themselves and their children. They have established a sickness and disability fund, a community center, and a school for their children. Rwanda: Gahaya Links Cooperative In 100 days of explosive ethnic violence in 1994, Rwandan Hutus murdered some one million Tutsis and moderate Hutus, leving hundreds of thousands of widows and orphans. Ephigenia Mukantabana lost 65 family members but has forgiven her family's killer and now works side-by-side the imprisoned man's wife as fellow members of a basket-weaving cooperative. Beginning with 20 women the company has now grown to a network of more than 4,000 weavers across the country, organized into 52 cooperatives. Ephigenia credits teaching her art to both Hutus and Tutsis as the balm that restored her shattered life. She says; "Art heals the hopeless soul. Weaving is hope for tomorrow."

Media Contacts Suzanne Seriff, Ph.D

Sr. Lecturer, Dept. of Anthropology,

University of Texas at Austin

Guest Curator, "Empowering Women: Artisan Cooperatives that Transform Communities"

seriff@aol.com

512 459-3990 ###

The Museum of International Folk Art houses the world's largest collection of international folk art, with the ongoing exhibition Multiple Visions: A Common Bond in the Girard Wing. Changing and traveling exhibitions are offered in the Bartlett Wing and exhibitions highlighting textiles are featured the Neutrogena Wing. Lloyd's Treasure Chestoffers visitors interactive displays about collections and how museums care for collections. The Museum of International Folk Art is a Division of the New Mexico Department of Cultural Affairs.

---------------------------------------- Currently Appreciating:**The long awaited start of building construction!! Mohammed and his team are laying down the bricks, literally! **Association picnic at the beach. 33 women were able to come! It was a fun-filled day of sun, ocean, sand, laughing and delicious chicken. **Escaping into good reads and movies.

Since my site visit, the community has pressed me to work on the Childcare Project. They want to finish the Women's Center roof, creating a space for its activities and a daycare center. I still vividly remember that February afternoon in the mktoub. It was three against one. They demanded from me something that wasn't there. I didn't want to disappoint but didn't have the words to explain what was and wasn't. I left with tears streaming down my face.

Fortunately, Aicha and the others have, since then, patiently sat down with me. Understanding the basics of a strong proposal, we reworked the project vision. They redrafted project goals and objectives. The officers rallied for community contribution. In the end, the accounted for just under 55 percent of the total costs! Excellent. Such a steep investment represents the community's desire to see this project succeed.

From October 2009 to February 2010, we went back and forth with slightly different budgets as we weighted different funding options. They did all the heavy lifting to see this project take flight. I gave them the basic budget structure. The Association officers filled in the blanks. Actually, the consulted Mohammed Labidi for pricing figures. While I wish they independently completed this task, I do congratulate them on their resourcefulness. He knows construction material costs back and forth. We added some extra padding here and there in case prices rise beyond the normal upper limit.

Before submitting USAID's Small Project's Assistance (SPA) proposal, we knocked our brains to think of possible wrenches. Maybe the construction workers will cheat us out of some money?! It is common for construction workers to give verbal contracts, only to later say he did not promise such things and demand more money. No problem. We'll write up a contract. Maybe prices will rise in the summer, as Moroccan expats come back and start building?! Prices fluctuate seasonally. No problem. We'll buy everything upfront, keep receipts on both ends and simply bring materials in smaller amounts as needed. It seemed as if we turned over each stone.

USAID approved our grant February 2010. The ladies were overjoyed! As was I. The approved grant casted away those lurking dark clouds. Throughout my service, the women joked they would hold me hostage until the project funding came. I believe they were joking... if not only to a certain extent.

Since that time, the officers and I have been on a quest for three stamps- one from the rural commune, my souq town and Taroudant. Having the building permit gives us the necessary legal backing to finish the roof. This is an extremely new law but commonly ignored. Most people do not go through the laborious process. Instead, they pay a bribe and the municipality happily looks the other way. Aicha refuses to do so on the basis of principle. She warned me that people end up paying a lot more than they anticipated in bribes. Not having this permit means that every time a government official stops by, we have to pay an additional bribe.

Over two months have come and gone. We still don't have the permit. I have yet to fully comprehend why this is taking so long. It's three stamps on one sheet of paper. Those at the qiad's office have told me they wish to preserve my village as a village. Development should be strictly limited. But we do not plan to build on "new land." The first floor already exists. As a matter of fact, the periphery walls to the second floor exist too. They also told me that due to the recent flooding, they do not want to give building permits to non-critical buildings. Really? I walk around town and see plenty of people building second, third floors in places with no apparent flood damages. I don't understand. I refuse to understand.

I recounted this story to my friend Beth, who recently came for a Morocco visit. She simply laughed: "Joy, you should have written a budget line for 'building permit fee.'" Working in a private, non-profit, grant making organization, she has seen several budget proposals with the line item "bribes." (Shortly thereafter, Beth would tell them to rework their budget.) Apparently others anticipated dealing with government corruption. Why hadn't we? I can only imagine how that would have went down. After I pay them a small bribe, they write me a receipt, signed and stamped, for my SPA grant accounting purposes. Perhaps its better to take the high road and be patient.

Government corruption is not limited to Morocco. It reaches all corners of the world. The United States is no exception. Corruption thrives in the corridors of Washington. Just stroll down K Street. Privately financed campaigned have bread a culture of corruption and stunted the US's democracy ideal. Thankfully, states such as Maine, Arizona, New Mexico, North Carolina, New Jersey, Vermont and Connecticut have public campaign financing programs. They have cut ties with special interests. Candidates gather a number of contributions from voters and agree to abide by spending limits. Once elected, they are accountable to the voters who elected them and not that of the wealthy few. **Please visit OpenSecrets to see who's getting what and Public Campaign to learn more about the movement.**

One striking difference between US corruption and that of Morocco is that Moroccan corruption trickles down to the street level. Literally. On a recent bus ride, the driver lamented losing a total of 100 MAD at check points. As it turns out, this is nothing in comparison to a staagmate. She documented Moroccan female success stories in rural areas. During the film road trip, she lost approximately 400 MAD in bribes. That money will have to come out of her pocket as there are no receipts to justify its disappearance.

Someone once told me a joke about Morocco's corruption, while riding on the train from Marrakech to Rabat. The joke goes something like this:

There once was a policeman who was corrupt. The always stopped people and asked for bribes. One day, he realized that the sun was setting and he had nothing in his pocket. So the policeman said to himself, "I'm getting money from the next person who comes by." Shortly after, a man on a motor comes driving by. The police pulls him over. The man is wearing a helmet. And the policeman finds no good reason to fine him. So the policeman asks, "Aren't you scared driving by yourself so late in the day?" The man answers, "I am not alone. I have Allah and the Prophet with me." "Three people on one little motor?! You need to pay a fine!" exclaims the policeman.

We then had an interesting discussion about corruption- Morocco, United States and across the globe. I appreciate train rides for many reasons. Not only does it run more-or-less on schedule, I am privy to the male domain and their conversations. Before parting ways, my fellow passenger smiled and said how refreshing it was to meet a foreigner who wasn't ignorant of corruption in his home country. Some Americans and Europeans he'd met were quick to scold Moroccan officials on accepting bribes. Indeed, corruption's roots run deep. The problem is larger than I alone can tackle. Let's hope the Women's Center can still open doors to children come the fall.

Earlier this week, I ran into the qiad while talking to my gendarmes liaison. It took everything in me to refrain from punching him square in the forehead. If I were to replay our conversation, I would have been less polite and more abrasive: "Don't talk to me in French! My Darija is damn good! And STAMP THAT PERMIT ALREADY!!!!"

Instead, I held back. Mohammed Labidi, an influential figure in my village, says we'll start this Friday. Due to the stalled permit, he has visited the qiad's office several times. Let's hope he knows something more than I do.

In March, I had blogged about the beginning of the Association's copper crocheted journey. This project had transformed from wild idea to a beautiful result. Products grew from hilarious mistakes to marketable jewelry. We learned a lot along the way- the process of product development, method of translating ideas, developing a trainers of the trainers strategy, customer preferences, the importance of good finishing and the value of feedback. What I failed to foresee were the stylistic twists that lay ahead.

In the early months of 2010, the Association ladies took to heart previous feedback from the AIWA Holiday Bazzar and Mid-Service Medicals. Customers overwhelmingly liked the single stitched bracelets (as opposed to double). It gives the appearance of a much fuller and richer bracelet. In November 2009, most of the women crocheted using double crochet. Fatima El Braga was first to experiment using single crochet. Aicha and Zohra followed suit. Lucky for them, these bracelets sold out at the AIWA Holiday Bazzar.

**Example of double crochet using copper wire.

**Example of single crochet using copper wire.

When it came time to replenish stock in January 2010, the women overwhelmingly crocheted using single crochet. Single crochet proved to be much tougher on their fingers. However, the women persisted with enthusiasm. They saw the potential benefits in a well crocheted bracelet. Not only did these sell, the Association benefited from a higher profit margin than their line of beaded bracelets.

Production temporarily halted when the flooding rains came pouring down in February. As chance would have it, Ali and Donna were stuck in my little house for a couple weeks. I couldn't have asked for better company! We spent the long rainy days huddled in our sleeping bag cocoons, waiting for the new day's cake to finish baking and warming up with hot tea. In the meantime, I asked them for feedback on our copper bracelets. Many women were still struggling with the right sizing and making bracelet clasps. Ali suggested crocheting bangles. Thus, as cats and dogs fell from the sky, I tested Ali's new idea.

**My 2nd and 3rd trials. The first one turned out too big!

It didn't take me long to crochet a bangle to the standard diameter. I brought these to the Women's Center and received shrills of excitement. I was not the only one happy to avoid the problem of clasps! Thankfully, the ladies caught on quickly. Like me, they had a couple trials to figure out the right count to meet the standard measurement. Bangles ranged in terms of crochet cleanliness. However, I was proud that everyone's work showed improvement.

Fatima Essaki and I took these products to test at Marché Maroc Marrakech. My staagmates Rebecca and Tim organized an excellent day of workshops and profitable three-day craft fair. Copper crocheted bracelets were our most popular product!! Even those who did not buy, they walked over to touch, look and applaud the women's wire handiwork. Employees from Build-A-Nest suggested thinner bangles to be sold in groups. In this way, women with smaller wrists could sport our crocheted bangles. Of course! Why hadn't I thought of it before.

I took these (and other) comments to the Association officers. It would be only three weeks before the next craft fair. As before, Association members paid 10 MAD for 50 grams of copper wire. With the collected money, Amina and I went to the souq town to purchase more wire. The motor electricians showed me a darker shade, almost equal in thickness as the "golden" shade. How pretty would these two shades look together! I went ahead and wound half in the darker, "reddish" shade and half in the lighter, "golden" shade.

Half the ladies worked with the darker copper, while the others crocheted with the lighter shade. Each women crocheted four thin bangles. With a partner who used the opposite shade of copper, they swapped wire. That way everyone could add an touch of design to their bangle. Any remaining wire, they were free to crochet and experiment as they'd like. The women prepared a variety of bangles- thick and thin, round and flat- for May's craft fair in Rabat.

I brought up the notion of selling the thin bangles in groups- perhaps 3 or 5. The Association officers decided on groupings of three. We set a price incentive for customers to purchase not one but three. Individually, each bangle sells for 30 MAD. But buy three for 80 MAD! At Marché Maroc Rabat, customers had fun picking out their mini collection of three. We also struck luck with a respectable order to the States and potential partnerships in two boutiques here in Morocco!

The president and I spent a long day discussing how to divide up the work. With the year's success, some women were discontent with the distribution of wealth and work opportunity. Some pointed fingers at management. Some pointed fingers at production. I see these issues as multi-layered, complicated by the delicacies of small village dynamics. Passive anger boiled at the first general meeting mid-May. I am simply glad they had a forum to talk with each other, as opposed to all parties venting to their PCV.

Aicha and I talked about fairness. We also talked about differences in work quality. Aicha understands that this opportunity could open doors to more. The stakes are high for quality work. In the end, we told those with the best crochet work to make the thicker bangles. These bangles are approximately three cm in thickness. Sloppy work shows. Contrarily, less-than-perfect work is less apparent on the thin bangles, especially if the women carefully wrap the accent copper wire. Aicha adjusted the required amount from each women to smooth over differences in previous sales. This might be as fair as humanly possible.

To my delight, it was clear skies and smooth sailing. These women crocheted 40 bangles, without accidents, traffic jams or even panic attacks! I didn't handhold them, crocheting with and/or for them, as I had previously done. Several women surprised me with exceptionally beautiful work! This is the best collection of bangles I have seen from the Association.

**Copper crocheted cuffs and thin bangles.

As always, there are still some kinks- most notably to standardize work and hide the wire's ends. I want my ladies to implement a quality control system similar to Ait Ourir's. There, a skilled worker is "buddied" with a less-skilled worker. The "training for the trainers" model is integrated into their everyday production. In addition, they have two women in charge of product quality. Currently, I do most of the product quality check. It's one hat too many I wear for the Association. Now that I am more familiar with everyone's work and personalities, I hope to use the long summer days to groom future quality drill sargents. Good thing I have five more months to dot the i's and cross the t's. In the meantime, I'm relaxing and enjoying the mini milestones they've reached.

Rural Moroccan women have peculiar sense of fashion. There is the traditional jellaba and abaya. However, more often than not, rural Moroccan women simply throw an old bed sheet or fuzzy blanket over their pajamas for a day "out in town." I don't know if this is resourceful or a fashion crime.

Such was my delight when I arrived in the Souss region. Here, the women drape themselves with lzars. Lzars are four and a half meter lightweight, cotton sheets. It marks a girl's coming of age or womanhood. I have long admired this flowing, vibrant fabric. Lzars color the Souss with playful hues of life.

**Me modeling the lzar.

** My mother with my host sisters Mina and Farah in the lzars.

Ain Chaib Association has started making the farasha using this fabric. Farasha means butterfly in Arabic. It has a simple yet flattering cut, with "flutter wings" as sleeves. Farasha takes the traditional lzar and creates a shirt of modern appeal.

**Me and SBD 2nd Year lovelies lookin' good in the farasha!

Ilham, Mina and Aicha worked with me and produced three shirts each. To our delight, they all sold out day one of Marche Maroc Rabat! Success! Currently, we're working on another collection of farasha shirts. I couldn't be more happy.

Let's just hope this and my two years working with the Association has a "butterfly effect" on their lives. Did you know I only have six months left?

I hit the first of many barriers to market access square in the forehead December 2008. The Association officers left me alone to man their table in Taroudant. With no language, no craft fair experience and no glimmer of "sustainable development," I called Aicha to tell her I'm leaving. I didn't come here to be the middleman for artisans. With the reassurance of older PCVs, I felt content with my decision.

From what I understood, each officer had more pressing matters that Saturday and Sunday. Like what? I didn't understand nor see eye-to-eye. When I returned to my village, I found women washing laundry, hammening and baking bread as they do everyday. Why are they in an Association if it's not a priority? Are they lazy? Unmotivated? What I didn't fully understand were the underlying cultural norms, deep-rooted in a male dominated society.

Addressing the issue of market access meant confronting and challenging some cultural norms. Particularly in the Souss region, change has yet to fully take effect in rural villages. Women's roles are largely confined to the home- whether by male subordination or comfort. Amina, though well into her thirties, lives and must abide by her father's rules. He says stay home. And so she must stay home, only to dream of distant cities. Similarly is the case of Ilham, the twenty-two year old Association secretary. Her mother forbids her from traveling. In her eyes, a recently divorced women has no prerogative traveling wherever the wind takes her. On several occasions, even going to the nearby market town can be a challenge. Other women can't even fathom traveling to places farther than an hour away. The thought of that interrupts their comfortable world- home, nedi, home. Baraka.

Access to internet also poses a challenge for this Association to connect their products to the right market. No one in the Association knows how to use a computer, much less surf the internet or respond to email. The Association has an email address. However, the former PCV checked their email. They didn't. They don't even have the language skills to properly communicate with potential business clients. The officers pointed to me, instructing me this is my job. Really? No, it's not.

How can I connect these artisans to customers, exporters and/or retailers in a sustainable way? They don't leave the 1,500 person village. None of them are computer literate or have the language skills to sustain a healthy business relationship.

The latter issue proved to be less monstrous than the first. Nadia, a bright high school student, has a computer and internet connection. More importantly, she is proficient in English and French. Since the fall, I've been tutoring her in English. She also happens to be the daughter of an Association member and cousin of the secretary. A couple months ago, Nadia started checking and responding to the Association's email. She's done a wonderful job communicating orders to the officers and following up with business partners. This is good practice for her English and fills an important role in the Association!

Tackling cultural issues concerning access to market is no easy challenge. It's part give (on the male side) and take (on the women's side). Add a spoonful of self-realization and a drop of courage. In the time I've spent in this village, I have seen women view at themselves differently. My host sister, Mina, is just one example.

One night in homestay, me and Mina had an interesting discussion about limits. I complained about my language limits. The prison walls became too much for me to handle. I couldn't fully express myself, my wants and needs. Furthermore, my life shrank to the home and Women's Center. Mina threw her hands up, "But you're learning! You're smart! Swiya b swiya. In a couple months, it won't be a problem! Jamila and Samira traveled all the time. You will too! Don't you know everyone has limits. My life is the house and nedi. Don't you think that's sometimes frustrating?! What can I do? Dad needs to be fed and the house needs to be cared for."

Who knew that within a year, those seemingly permanent limits crumbled. In February 2009, her father, who had been widowed for over a year, found a new wife. This became a mixed blessing in disguise. Mina hated and blatantly refused to accept another women taking the place of her beloved mother. In a matter of weeks, tension spread around house, polluting a once lively household with a rancid stench. Therefore, she left temporarily. Mina traveled with her brother to stay with him in the Sahara. By summer, she seemed like a new woman. Since the fall, Mina took sewing classes in the souq town while attending the village's Women's Center in the afternoon. Her world now stretches beyond the house. Mina still bakes bread, prepares meals and cleans the house. However, she's a women in motion and I couldn't be more proud.

This past week, Mina accompanied me to Marche Maroc Rabat. With her bubbling personality, selling came naturally. Her illiteracy was no big obstacle. Women from other cooperatives helped her record sales and names. That weekend, she became good friends with Latifa and Laila, the President and Vice President of Cooperative Tifaout. They shared their organizational structure, way of distributing work and money, keep stock, ensuring quality products and so forth.

**Mina and I at Marche Maroc Rabat, where we had about 3,500 DH in sales!

**Me, Latifa, Mina, Laila and Souad.

Coming back from the Rabat craft fair, Mina has made it her priority to initiate changes in the Association. Why don't the officers distribute work evenly and in front of everyone? Why don't they explain the breakdown of costs and expenses? Why aren't there regularly Association meetings? Why aren't there Association meetings at all? Why isn't there a clear tally on stock? Why isn't there transparency?

Yesterday, Mina brought her concerns to the officers. The Association women couldn't be more thankful. It's been a year of passive bickering among the ladies. However, no one has come forth to ignite change. Hopefully, the Association will hold a meeting this week to discuss these matters.

I applaud Mina and Fatima, who attended Marche Maroc Marrakech. Fatima is equally special. She has a four year-old daughter and two year-old son. On a daily basis, she does all the housework, cares for her two children as well as attend Women's Center classes. All that didn't stop Fatima from jumping at the opportunity to attend the Marrakech craft fair. Her husband disapproved. But with a lot of persuasion he said "not no" and Fatima took it. Women like this slowly open the door for female enterprises.

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In changing times, Moroccan women play dual role.

By Sarah Touahri 2010-03-14 For many Moroccan working women, the trade-off between home lives and jobs occurs at the expense of time and peace of mind. While women have acquired some freedom in the working environment, attitudes have not changed as regards the role of a woman within the family. The equality they seek has not yet been achieved on the domestic front. However, generalizations should be avoided, since an increasing number of young husbands are attempting to counter tradition by helping their wives perform daily tasks. "Women have more responsibility than men. When men come home, they relax, whereas women must cook and take care of the house and children on their own. Women have gained freedom, but attitudes have not kept pace. Equality must come about in the home," said bank clerk Halima Bernoussi. A similar view is shared by a number of women who accept their daily lives with resignation. They blame the hypocrisy of Moroccan society in this respect. Fatima Moustaghfir, a lawyer and Member of Parliament, said that tradition is very important and that only women themselves can change this. In her view, they must teach their children that boys and girls are equal so that the future will be different. "In Morocco, it's still taboo for a man to help his wife with the cooking. Others take a ruthless view on this. Often, even those who help their wives with chores avoid doing so in front of other people," she said. Sociologist Hamid Ghoulam explained that Morocco is going through a transitional phase, and that women may feel pressure in their daily lives due to their conservative upbringing. "Many women who work feel deep down that their dual mission is a duty that they must accomplish without batting an eyelid," he said. "Moroccans raise their daughters to be good cooks, whereas it is instilled into boys that they must avoid these womanly tasks." Nevertheless, Ghoulam said, the current generation is behaving differently. An increasing number of young husbands are attempting to counter tradition by helping their wives perform daily tasks. Siham M., a public-sector worker, said that the mothers of the future will face less stress, since the way in which children are being brought up is changing. The mother of two boys and a girl, she tries to teach her children the important of equality in the home: "I treat my boys and my daughter just the same. I involve all of them in the housework. In future, I think my sons will help their wives." Women's arrival in the workplace has enabled them to broaden their horizons and improve their skills, said Rachida Benmasoud, writer and member of the political office of the Socialist Union of Popular Forces. Change will take time to occur in the home, Benmasoud conceded. Society, she said, is certain of women's role in development, but the cultural system retains a strong presence with regard to traditional roles. She concluded that the state should play a greater role in boosting equality. An increasing number of young husbands, however, are attempting to counter tradition by helping their wives perform daily tasks. Many men oppose the notion that women are victims, said teacher Hicham Choubami.

"Women's access to jobs has enabled them to strengthen their position both in society and at home," Choubami noted. He claims that men are increasingly helping their wives go about household chores. "The attitude of Moroccans is changing. Women should not make a drama out of the situation. It's simply a question of organization." Halima Essaid, a nurse, agrees. She said that women must organize their time so that they do not fall victim to daily pressures. In her opinion, discussing this subject with their husbands should help women. "At first, my husband didn't help me; I had to do everything myself," she said. "When I talked things over with him, I persuaded him to get more involved around the house for the happiness of our family."

Around My Village.

** Playing with little ones.

** The "m3rid" that ended up being a Maroc Telecom booth.

Spring Camp Taroudant. A week filled with songs, games, English, spilled paint, Michael Jackson's "Thriller," Berber dancing, chebab music, laughs and tears!

** The wonderful chaos that was Beginner High English.

** Taroudant Carnival

Camel Trekking in Merzouga. A wonderful trek out to the Sahara dunes.

** The group before heading out.

** Local transportation.

** Sahara dress

** At camp site.

Points East of Ouarzazate

** Todra Gorge

Marche Maroc Marrakech. A three-day craft fair and day of business workshops held in the Marrakech Artisana Ensemble.

** Ladies at the workshop.

Women's Wellness Training of the Trainers. An empowering weekend, filled with exercise, workshops on women's health issues, night walks by the beach and commitments to carry-out similar workshops in participants' villages.

** Soussi girls

** Yoga with Becki.

** Glad rags workshop.

From time to time, I come across an individual's success story and think, "Efrita." It literally translates into "fiend." In Morocco, this term does not describe a demon or diabolically cruel person. It means someone who is highly skilled at something. It means someone who can move mountains. It means someone who is driven and can create change. It means beast.

This morning, I was at Douia's house, the Association treasurer. After breakfast, we went over photos of an Agadir training she participated in last November. Douia pointed to one the presenters, "Hiya efrita. She's a beast. Tbark allah 3liha. May god grant her grace." Apparently, this trainer was a self-made women. She travels across Morocco with various notable accomplishments. She motivates people.

Similarly is the story of Faiza Hajji Wozniak. A fellow Peace Corps Volunteer came across her story and it is truly inspirational. I wish some of this spirit would rub off on my ladies.

Faiza Hajji Wozniak: Recycling Plastic Waste for Development

Interview by: Romen Bose (AFP Foundation, 2008)

Faiza Hajji Wozniak, 27, gave up a career as a telecommunications engineer to help a development project that combines environmental protection with the campaign against poverty and illiteracy in her home country, Morocco. "We have a neighborhood called Douar Mika, that means the neighborhood of plastic because all the plastic bags of the city are taken by the wind there so it's completely black," she said. "I thought, how can we take these bags and make something interesting from them and I tried to use the local technique of weaving and apply it to the plastic bags, and this is the result." Her prize-winning entry in the photo essay category shows women in Berkane, near the Algerian border, weaving handbags for export from discarded plastic bags. Twenty-one women now work on the project, which also includes literacy classes. The illiteracy rate in Morocco is about 52 percent but among women in rural areas it has been estimated at 80 percent. Faiza hopes the project will lead to others to promote education and help girls to go and remain in school. "In these areas, girls are taken out of school after they are 12 years old because the families don't have the means to pay for further studies, and it is not in the culture either," she said. Faiza was educated in Morocco but studied telecommunications engineering in France. After graduating, she worked briefly as a consultant before going to Mexico and later Sri Lanka to work with Planet Finance, an NGO which promotes micro-finance all over the world. She was interviewed in Kuala Lumpur, where she coordinates projects in Sri Lanka and other countries in the region. "From when I was a kid, I wanted to help people. Life gave me things and took things away from me, but not this wish to help people," she said.*************************************

About IFASSEN:

IFASSEN is a fair trade project that was launched by Faiza in partnership between the Government of France and her hometown in Morocco. Through IFASSEN and with her two partners, Faiza has been working to decrease the number of plastic bags in the environment, while helping Moroccan women receive a fair income. IFASSEN, which means ‘hands’ in Berber, employs 21 craftswomen in the making of fashion accessories. The women collect the discarded plastic bags that litter their community’s fields and streets, then clean, dry and weave them together with local alfa grass that they pick. The women use a method of basket weaving that is traditional to the region. It takes about 100 plastic bags to make a typical IFASSEN bag, a small but hopeful percentage of the 2.5 billion plastic bags discarded in Morocco each year.

The project has won several awards, including a prestigious award from the French Ministry of Finance. IFASSEN's products are exported to France, Italy, Japan, Spain and the United States. "A wise man was saying that we must be the change we want to see in the world,” Faiza said. “I have grown up with the will to change things little by little, even through a tiny contribution.”

A Peace Corps Volunteer's job description is not quite like any other. The more I examine the realities of my job, I see myself as a behavior change agent. I can't give them the magic formula to running a successful craft business. I don't have the foresight of which retailers will continue a steady, if not growing, business relationship with them. However, I can teach them some basic business skills and knowledge. I can impart some advice on colors, styles and customer tastes. I can teach them new crochet techniques. I can lead them through trial and error. And I can model good behavior. All of this is done in hopes that one day my counterparts see the value in changing their current habits.

I'm finding that two years service is not enough time for dramatic behavior changes. The challenge is that they need to decide to change. This goes back to the constant nagging question of motivation. How badly do they want this small business to succeed? I wonder.

Filling and shipping orders in a timely fashion is a key component for business success. An RPCV had placed an order of bracelets back in late October. The ladies did not finish the bracelets before she left Morocco in November. When I left for vacation in Spain, I gave them an envelope with her address.

Before I left, I told them, "Whenever bracelets are done, send it in the mail."

In hindsight, I should have said "Next week, when you finish six bracelets..." Then again, maybe not. I'm not the boss. Time passes. It doesn't occur to me to follow-up. Until February, when I realize no one has made the bracelets. Why? I don't understand. In the meantime, they made plenty of tea kettle holders and lace doilies. (Note: none of those items are for sale.) Time doesn't seem to be the limiting factor. Hmm. Lucky for them, the RPCV is forgiving and still wants her order. I personally mailed the bracelets. It's almost five months since the secretary recorded the order in the Association notebook. I wonder.

I face the same confusion when trying to understand why ladies refuse to buy their own crochet hook. There's one extended family that share one crochet hook between three ladies. To me, sharing one crochet hook is an unnecessary hassle. Some ladies have their own hooks but only have one. I repeatedly talk about the importance of gauge and needing various crochet hooks for different threads. For the new line of headbands, I want a loose crochet for a softer feel. Ladies need to work with a number 5 crochet hook. I reiterate this concept during the product critics. Hooks sell for 2dhs. Why do some ladies still refuse to make this investment? Why do they come everyday to the nedi and pester others (myself included) to borrow a crochet hook? They just spent 3 dhs on half a sardine sandwich the other day. See why I wonder about their motivation?

That motivation questions makes me question my purpose here. If they can't pay 2 dhs for a crochet hook, why am I trying to teach them new crochet techniques? Why am I attempting product development? Why am I working harder than them when this isn't my life?!

Thankfully, at the end of the day, I find this in more ways fulfilling than frustrating. You might argue that I'm wearing rose-colored glasses. I delight in small successes as if they were huge milestones. And maybe they are.

The Association still haven't started construction with the approved grant money. The legal paperwork to start construction have been stalled at the local municipality level. Yesterday, I ran into the President and Secretary after they had a meeting with the qiad. They were pressuring him to expedite the paperwork process. Sweet! Look at them take initiative and responsibility!

We recently had great success with a new line of headbands. In January and February, the ladies learned and perfected these new headbands. At the American Club Bazaar, these headbands sold like hot cakes. However, the production process has several holes. The thread comes unwound. Currently, a local tailor, Robio, winds the thread for us at 2 dhs a spool. Two spools produce one headband. With approximately 20 ladies, needing two spools of wound thread each, in addition to wooden beads and elastic bands, raw material cost adds up fast. Additionally, Robio misunderstood the proper thickness for the thread. On two occasions, we sent a bag full of thread to be rewound. Amina, who helped me send and collect the thread, was well aware of these costs. About two weeks ago, she bought her own thread-winding machine for 150 dhs. What great foresight! Go Amina! She's learning how to wind the thread for future headband orders at 1.5 dhs a piece. What a good personal investment!

**Photo: spring collection of headbands

These little victories are my reasons for continuing my service. I'm happy knowing that my time here has, in many small regards, made a positive impact. Apparently researchers Malte Klar and Tim Kasser also agree. In their study, activism revealed a positive association with increased social well-being. Read the recent Guardian article for more information:

Brain Food: Does activism make you happy?

By: Aditya Chakrabortty (Guardian, 2 March 2010)

Who'd have thought it? New research shows there is a link between being politically active and wellbeing.

Marching in the drizzle against wars in far-off countries, writing letters protesting the government's latest reactionary policy, sitting through interminable meetings that keep sprouting Any Other Business. It may be noble, but political activism is hardly a barrel of laughs. And yet it makes you happier.So find two university psychologists in new research that looks for the first time at the link between political activity and wellbeing. Malte Klar and Tim Kasser started by interviewing two sets of around 350 college students, both about their degree of political engagement and their levels of happiness and optimism. Both times, they found that those most inclined to go on a demo were also the cheeriest.So there's a link – but can politics actually make a person happier? In the third study, the academics took a bunch of students and divided them up into groups. The first were encouraged to write to the management of the college cafeteria asking for tastier food. The next lot wrote asking the cafe to source local or Fairtrade products. They were then tested on their wellbeing, and the group who had involved themselves in the political debate were far and away the strongest on the "vitality" scale: they felt more alive and enriched than those who merely complained about the menu.There are many fascinating aspects to this . First, the activist-students didn't necessarily care about food ethics, but just taking action made them feel better. Second, sending a memo is hardly the most engaging political action – and yet it had a big impact on those taking it. Third, the study flies in the face of the popular wisdom that happiness resides in creature comforts and relative affluence. Perhaps activism gives people a sense of purpose, or of agency or just a chance to hang out with other people. Most likely it does all of the above."I will fight for what I believe in until I drop dead," Barbara Castle told this paper in 1998. "And that's what keeps you alive." Maybe the Red Queen was on to something.

In a recent chat with one of my predecessors, we talked about the Association's latest breakthroughs. Among other updates, I sent photos of our newest products. In response, she exclaimed, "I'm so excited about the broadening of creative ideas that are bubbling up in our little village!" While I appreciate her enthusiasm, this comment caught me off guard. Bubbling? I find it somewhat naive of her to think that's how events unraveled.

Perhaps from afar, it seems as if these ladies have finally tapped into their well of endless creativity. They've turned on the faucet full blast. Innovative ideas and attractive designs are gushing out with the speed of Angel Falls. But that would disregard approximately a year's worth of work. It dismisses the countless hours I spent researching, experimenting, gathering feedback, researching and experimenting again. It dismisses the countless workshops and house visits I made for the ladies to learn new skills. It dismisses the blood, sweat and tears exuded by these ladies. It dismisses the money spent along the way.

When a writer hits a wall, he may want to empty his mind and stroll into a beach sunset. He may chose to wait for Callipo's muse to play. Pen won't touch paper until lyrical words start flowing from above. Maybe some writers work this way. I don't. I've never produced an "A" piece of writing with this method. I highly doubt I ever will. Writing is editing. And editing is writing.

In the same sense, product development requires constant "editing." In business, product development represents the complete process of bringing new products or services to the market. Therefore, the heart of product development lies in feedback- from the target audience, design experts and producers. What knowledge and skills do these ladies have? What can they produce? What want or need does that product X fill? To whom? What are they (the customers) saying about product X? Is product X unique? Does it reflect current color trends and tastes? Does it stand out from the competition?

About a year ago, I carefully prepared questions with my tutor to ask the Association. In hopes of understanding what I might be doing, I had to understand what was and is. My language was still chicken scratch. I had difficulty making sentences, not to mention conjugating verbs properly and agreeing adjectives with nouns. Therefore, we discussed possible responses. He scripted dialogues and I memorized key terminology. I even rehearsed these imaginary dialogues alone in my room. By the time I actually sat down with Aicha, the president of the Association, I already had the conversation 20 times over.

"What are the Association's biggest needs?"

"A childcare center. And a market for our products."

Up until that point, the conversation flowed as I had expected. I was even encouraged by my comprehension level. What I had failed to anticipate the crushing weight of responsibility being dumped on my shoulders. How can I move mountains in less that two years? Where do I even begin? Blank. My mind went blank, momentarily. All I could do was nod in agreement. "Mushkila kbira. Big problem." I added.

After further questioning and countless hours of observation, I realized how thin their product line actually was. After digging here and there, I found holes in their colors choices, designs, styles, sizing, craftsmanship and raw materials used. Why weren't the Association's products flying off the shelves? Wait. Rewind. Step back. Why weren't these products on anyone's shelves except ours? Their products brought limited success not because there was no market, rather the products themselves were weak.

I'm not a designer but I am a picky buyer. Therefore, I went to my favorite Fair Trade retailers, found similar items to that of the Association's or made with the same skill set. About every two weeks, I printed out these photos and brought them to the nedi. I wanted to show the ladies products in the market and hopefully inspire to create something similar. The ladies always chattered wide-eyed with excitement. On several occasions, Amina and Houda sat down with me to experiment. Although I began growing friendships with them (and others in the Association), nothing that could be counted in profits came of this.

By spring, I realized that the best place to start would be with their line of crocheted bracelets. While these are not featured in any boutiques, they sell fairly well among fellow volunteers. The bracelets had a respectable reputation in the Peace Corps community. I brought bracelets with me to any and all Peace Corps gatherings. During VSN training in March, I set up shop in Karen's house. When invited to speak on a PST panel, I brought along bracelets to sell. Vacation up north? Yup, a stash of bracelets came along for the ride. By the time IST rolled around in June, a handful of PCVs emailed me requesting to purchase bracelets!

During this time, I collected feedback, specifically on colors and designs. I told the ladies to keep careful inventory. After these trips, I would ask them which designs sold the best? Which colors were most popular? I even had my staagmates fill out a color survey during IST. We then adjusted production accordingly.

Even with these small adjustments, I had my doubts as to how big the market is for crocheted bracelets. I love the touch of soft, fine thread. I love the artist taste in textile jewelry. I appreciate the labor of these women. And I believe whole-heartedly in the Association's mission. However, I can see why our young twenty-something year old, socially conscience, potential female customers would pass over crocheted bracelets for a silver one... or wooden one.

That's when I wondered, what if they crocheted with something besides thin, rayon embroidery thread? What about wire? Browsing on www.etsy.com and searching on google, I found several eye-catching crocheted wire bracelets and earrings. Like before, I printed out these photos. For weeks, I circulated these photos and eagerly hoped for someone to take initiative. But nothing beyond excited chatter. What's wrong with them? Don't they understand we just hit jackpot?

During IST, Heather, the founder of Mushmina, came and did a workshop on product development. She repeatedly stated the importance of "connecting the dots" when translating ideas into new products. If you want carpet weavers to start making carpet purses, make a real-size paper prototype. Draw out the design to scale. In this way, weavers can unfold the prototype next to their looms. They see exactly what they have to weave. No wonder new bracelets weren't flying out of my village and into a boutique near you! That leap was too big for the ladies to make on their own. The photos I printed represented exciting ideas and promising possibilities. But what my ladies needed was a map and step-by-step directions.

I took that advice to heart. Over the summer, I experimented crocheting bracelets with different wires. However, the ladies laughed and said how much they look like the steel tagine scrubber. What about copper wire? I hunted my souq town until I found copper wire thin enough to crochet with. I spent about two months testing various versions of copper wire.

By September, I produced something I was proud of. For the whole month of October, I wore these bracelets everywhere I went. Wearing it in my village created a buzz among the ladies. It even attracted more women to the Association! Wearing it outside my village gave me invaluable feedback. Like before, I took advantage of every opportunity- at PCV gatherings, trainings, PST invite, friends and strangers sitting next to me on a bus ride. Afterwards, I produced new copper bracelets using the feedback.

In October and November, I helped the ladies produce their first trials of crocheted copper bracelets. I had them use my bracelets as examples. Learning how to make copper crochet bracelets will come quickley, I thought. This is same skill- crocheting, just with a different materials.

By the AIWA Bzzar in early December, most ladies produced two bracelets. We ran into the good signs! Their craftsman ship improved from bracelet number one to bracelet number two. I became better at noticing what made clean copper crochet work versus not. Therefore, I became better at giving the ladies tips. Ladies also transferred learned skills amongst each other. Saida Bachad was particularly good at teaching other women how to attach the clasp. Ikram helped countless women hide their ends. The copper bracelets I liked, all sold in the craft fair... and then some. A couple places in Morocco showed interest in stocking these. That's a good start!

But we had plenty of misses. Well, a lot more misses than hits. Working with a larger crochet hook and tougher material threw a curve ball at these women. And a fair majority of them were hit square on the forehead. To make matters worse, working with wire can be unforgiving. Mistakes are final. My loose directions provided poor guidance. Although the ladies are perfectly capable to producing lovely crochet thread patterns, lovely crochet copper patterns were few and far between. The ladies also chose their own accent beads. And they made some choices I would have never made and potential customers didn't like. All of these combined, means that there sits of copper bracelets. Most likely, they will remain unsold.

An interesting aspect about this Peace Corps experience is that I'm learning as my counterparts learn. I don't know everything. I've never done anything like this before. Heck, I graduated with an Economics degree. Not in design. Not anything in art. How did I get to Morocco and get tangled up in everything product development?!

Late November, I stumbled upon a wonderful discovery. The Peace Corps librarian sent me The Encyclopedia of Crochet Techniques. From that, I realized that most women could reproduce new crochet patterns which had a photo of the end result and a drawing of the directions. In fact, this was far more effective then having me work next to them. Better results and self-sufficiency! It's a win-win.

That is precisely how I directed copper crochet production in February. I gave the women specific design patterns. I produced a sample and then drew out its pattern. The ladies were able to produce far more impressive bracelets! Instead of eight excellent copper bracelets and five ok ones, we have a real collection! And by the end of this week, we'll be ready to test them in several markets!

I worked in a similar fashion with Amina Yabis, the president of Cherry Buttons Cooperative. The Santa Fe Folk Art Festival has extended her an invitation to participate in this summer's craft fair. She wanted help with color selections and necklace designs. The first time I went, I gave her a free-form necklace made from jellaba beads. In the couple hours following a delicious chicken lunch, we jointly reproduced a similar necklace. Excellent! She learned something new! Right? Wrong. In the following weeks, the PCV in Sefrou gave me disappointing reports of her latest creations. Free-form was apparently too free. It was free enough to encompass scattered and incomplete artistic thoughts (or un-artistic thoughts).

Therefore, I created a different necklace that follows an exact pattern. Amina Yabis would have the freedom to change different jellaba beads. In February, I sat down with her again. This time we watched as I remade the necklace. The second one, she made on her own under my watch. Beautiful. She understood and she was able to reproduce on her own!

In January 2010, the New Economics Foundation, an independent "think-to-do" tank, published a report entitled "Growth Isn't Possible." The report outlines the physical and environmental constraints to unlimited GDP growth. It poses the challenge to cultures: how to create good lives and flourishing societies that do not rely on infinite orthodox growth?

I vividly remember on the last day of Ecological Economics class with Professor Herman Daly. A classmate asked if he was pessimistic of humanity's ability to make the necessary changes. Professor Daly said he was pessimistic, but hopeful. The two should not be confused.

Living in Morocco presents a refreshing break from the clutch of limitless material desires. 1) I'm sheltered from much of the consumption crazed US $643 billion worldwide advertising industry. 2) My Peace Corps budget forces me to evaluate spending with increased scrutiny. I can't have good A and good B. I need to chose one. 3) I will have to give, ditch or ship any accumulated stuff. "Do I really need this? I have 9 months and counting...." 4) I live in 214 sq ft house. I value space. Having stuff is a burden, not a sense of joy. 4) The ladies, who have become my lifeline here, have been wearing the same jellabas, scarves, pajamas for over ten years. Not having anything new, isn't new.

The best part is- I don't think I've missed a beat. Peace Corps Morocco is a slice of life to the fullest.

I've dug my toes deep into Morocco's beaches.

And stopped to watch sunsets.

I've recreated my favorite American meals.

And shamelessly indulged in my favorite Moroccan dishes.

I've enjoyed nature's beauty in unexpected ways. Morocco is NOT all desert and camels!

My night trek is lit up by starlight.

I've come to absolutely bath time! I've scrubbed myself clean and exfoliated like never before in my neighbor Fatima's private hammem. And I only use one bucket of water!

I spend 30 percent of my time in time either coloring with neighborhood girls or getting kisses from them.

I drank glass after glass of masous (bland aka sugarless) mint green tea because the ladies know that's the way I prefer my tea.

I delight when finding unexpected space with skinny-hipped people, 6 passengers to a grand taxi.

I've fallen in love with olives and fresh squeezed olive oil.

I generally eat seasonally and locally... and love it.

I've learned some new things. (Photo of me learning how to make jellaba beads.)

I've taught people some new things. (1st Photo: teaching persuasive writing in Agadir. 2nd Photo: new jellaba necklace design with Amina Yabis. 3rd Photo: our new crocheted bangles.)

I've jammed out to Moroccan music with my Program Manager and Assistant!

I've enjoyed the company of my fellow PCVs.

I've enjoyed countless hours with the ladies of the Association.

And I've seen them reach new milestones. (Photo of our beautiful and growing collection of crocheted accessories.)

Having more doesn't make me happier. Can we outgrow the notion that GDP growth is golden? What about gross national happiness? What is your happy planet index? What can make your happiness higher? Most importantly, how much consumption of how many people can mother Earth sustain? It seems that nothing short of a fundamental transformation in how we live our lives will be sufficient.

In 2006, 10 friends in San Francisco opted out of the retail rat race. They formed "the Compact," pledging not to buy anything in that year aside from food, health and safety items and underwear. It has become a growing cultural movement. I can see why. Less is more.

** Annie Leonard's 20-minute film, "the Story of Stuff," wonderfully summarizes the realities our consumption-driven culture.

January has taken off at lightening speed. Projects are picking up and picking speed. I'm NOT complaining. However, I find it hard to put more than a few sentences together. As Lynn said, "Excuse my English. It's a little swiya." So this will do until my next post.

Currently Appreciating:

*Leather backed earrings. Crocheted necklaces. Potential boutique meetings set in motion.

*My scrapbook. My family took the time to make a scrapbook for me. Each person filled out a page or a couple pages. Best gift ever. I don't think I turned the second page before my eyes welled up.

*Olives and olive oil as a thank-you gesture for English tutoring.

*Getting lost in Taroudant but coming away with a better understanding of that maze.

*All that happy birthday lovin'.

*Lynn coming to my site to facilitate a Costing and Pricing workshop. Ali coming to my site to watch and learn. None of it happening the way we planned. Doing a training of the trainers instead.

*How wonderfully snug my house feels with the addition of two amazing souls.

*Being good little Moroccan girls and staying in our own brownie triangles.

*Getting sleepy around 10 or 11 but staying awake until 1:20 talking about new marketing strategies for my products.

*Pita pizzas!

*Random snack time in the fields. Correction, not the fields... the former fields, the empty parking lots waiting to be developed.

*Running into a group of my favorite little lady playmates. They innocently asked if we were leaving for America. "Yup! And on Sunday I'll be back. Don't you want to come with me?" They all said no.

*Running into a couple of them when I arrived on Sunday and them asking me how America was.

*Circuit training success! I drew up pictures of familiar moves, placed them on chairs arranged in a circle. Each ladies rotated one chair to another, completing 2 min of repetitive movement. In this way, Lynn and I could give individual attention as needed. Not too long after, the ladies started correcting each other. Perfect!

*Pretending to be somewhere in southern California while sitting at a cafe in Agadir.

*OOOOing and Ahhhhing so excitedly that neighbors asked if we'd like a picture. "You two seem to be enjoying yourselves so much!" hahaaa. Spend a year in a village on Peace Corps budget.... then they'd start to understand our excitement.

*"You can speak darija but you can't read?"

*Taroudant ladies all meeting up this past Sunday. Stuffing our faces with pizza, pasta salad, mandarins and cake. With all that food, it might not have been so obvious that we gathered to square away nuts and bolts for a Women's Wellness Conference. hahaa. An extremely productive meeting.

*Yessen and Silama (both 5 year-old children) chasing a herd of sheep down the road.

*Donkey cart passing with an enormous pile of branches and leaves. About 15 or so children running alongside of it, grabbing onto branches in excitement.

*Moments like these that I want glued to my memory but will never catch on camera.

*Sewing with Tanie. We went to the nedi neswi in my souq town. The sewing machines were foot peddled ones. She held the strings and spun the wheel. I held the cloth and rocked my feet. 1...2...3...go!

*Matt fixing my computer so that I can watch season two of the Wire.

*Tiznit women and their beautiful lazars.

*Friendship earrings! Only the best of friends have these.

*Realizing that a month in site means I have enough to treat myself to a Tiznit ring.

*Making headway on the Childcare Project. About a year ago, they asked me "Where's the money?" completely out of the blue. Now- not only have they redesigned the project and filled out the budget- they're considering taking out a loan to cover some expenses. We're walking through budget accounting this week and forecasting anticipated costs and revenue. They need to make an informed business decision. Who would ever know I'd walk them through such a big decision.

*VSN words of appreciation.

*I'm not where I was a year ago. I'm not yet where I will be a year from now.

I may take a holiday in SpainLeave my wings behind meDrink my worries down the drainFly away to someplace new.-- Counting Crows

Barcelona. Christmas displays. Christmas lights decorating the streets. Narrow streets. Fountains. Street cleaner. Cobblestones. Short/straight bangs. High boots and short skirts. Royal purple. Designer boutiques. Graffiti. Beautiful graffiti. Murals painting the public walls. Alcohol, wine and spirits for sale in convienient stores. Supermarkets that are really 7-11s. Restaurants on every corner. Birthday celebration. I LOVE BARCE souvenirs. Old men trading bottle caps, old calling cards, stamps and coins. Artisana vendors. Cars that stop for pedestrians. Pedestrians who wait for the "to walk" signal. Paella at Salamanca Restaurant. Half bottle of wine. Accordion player. Free chupada. Great customer service. Flowers for sale on the street. Open food market. Produce imported for all over. Strawberries from Chile. Grapes from Italy. Local carrots. Artisanal cheese. One-year old fart cheese. Sausage. Pork. Pig. Salsa Bravo. Chino. Arc de Triumph. Rollar blader, fully padded. Resting in the park. Train station. Toast. Cereal. Hot tea. Central heating in the hostel. Don't need to bring your own toilet paper. It's already there! Laundry machine. Meeting fellow travelers. Seperating trash. Dumpster bins for landfill, organic waste, paper recyling and cans. Drummers on the street. Colorful scarf. Warm hat. Thundering beat of percussion. Bookstore. Soccer. Tapas and canas. Baguette. Gaudi archituecture. Gaudi Park. Curved stones. Living fences. Floral tiles. Arab tiles. Mixing of the two. Casa Battlo. No straight lines. A breathing, living house. Rippled ceiling. Bouncing light. Roof. Masterpiece. Art. Art everywhere.

Alicante. Traveling by train. Ham and cheese sandwiches. Extremely comfortable seats. Free upgrade to a studio apartment. Central heating. Turbo shower. Dial for the water temperature. Six different functions. Moroccan store owner. Talking in Darija. Grilled cheese. Hot soup. Pinchos. Eating pincho after pincho and not being full. Take-out Chinese. Ordering in Chinese. Giant christmas tree. Climbing up top a mountain. Seeing all of Alicante. Beach town. Rooftops. Cathedrals. Omellete. Bread. Sausage.

Madrid. Produce market. The Museum of Ham. 1 euro canas. sausages on the side. Doughnuts. Christmas trees in each plaza. Dove Christmas lights. Joy. Churrero and chocolate. Master Churrero. Merry-go-around. Holiday shopping. HUGE bubbles. Wine glasses. Candied sunflower seeds. Museums. Champagne. Retailed out. Skyscraper long billboards. Pizza. Turkey slices with olives and extra fat. Used books for sale. Lisa came to visit! Talking. Interrupting. Sangria. Olives. Paella.

Toledo. Bus leaves on time. No waiting. Roll back time. Medieval. Renaissance. Old walls. Daggers, swords, shields. Dolly and Picasso museum. Arab doors. Moroccan style houses, with courtyard in the middle. Open windows. Reeses peanut butter cups. Salad. Broccoli. Spinach. Homemade croutons. Four cheese. We haven't been in a "real" supermarket in awhile. Cobble stones. Marzipan. Christmas music blasting in the streets. Moroccan store owner from Khouribga. Moroccan hookahs, lamps, candles, ash trays. Stores closing early. Hot tea. Harold and Maude. Waking up later than planned. Everything omelets. Taking the next bus to Madrid, then Granada.

Granada. Former Arab Empire. Arab doors. Moroccan tiles. Yellow-orange, dark green, royal blue. Geometric tiles. Clean, well-organized garden. Alhambra. Reflections in the water. Mandarins. Stealing a mandarin. Familiar Arabic script on the ceilings. Moroccan star. Palace de Youssef. General life. Stone mosiacs. Murals on renewable energy, environment and indegenous peoples. Rain. Umbrellas. Map with coupons. Free magarita. Mexican food. Tapas and canas for 2 euros. Big tapas, fries included. Reindeer by the fountain.

For each new morning with its light,

For rest and shelter of the night,

For health and food, for love and friends,

For everything thy goodness sends.

-- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. What could be more glorious than friends and family gathering to share a meal and give thanks?! Thanksgiving comes just a couple days for L'aid Kbir. After months of hectic work, I'm thankful for this week of rest. I'm thankful for everything I've accomplished with these women. Correction- I'm thankful for everything they're learning and doing. Frankly, these two years aren't about me and what I do. It's always about what they can do after I leave. And they're learning all that.

I spent Thursday cleaning my house- top to bottom and inside out. Fatima happened to be washing clothes. We carried over bucket after bucket of laundry water. I flooded my house before mopping it clean. That water was then recycled again to flush my toilet. I'm thankful for gray water. I'm thankful for an immaculately clean house. I'm thankful for my small and "green" house.

Then I hammam-ed. It's been a long time coming. In my village, each family has their own one to three-person hammam. In this tubular, cement hut, I got a deep clean with only one and a half buckets of water! I'm thankful for the hammam, very thankful.

Matt and Tanie, a new YD (Youth Development) couple in my souq town, came over my house for a vegetarian Thanksgiving meal. We ate green beans, mashed potatoes, vegetable lasagna and cinnamon buns! We cheered to sparkling cider. Yum! I'm thankful for good company. I'm thankful for my new neighbors and excited for their service.

Before L'aid, I spent any downtime working on new products- necklaces, earrings, headbands and bags. I want the women to revisit their embroidery work in the new year. The possibilities could be endless. I'm thankful for these ladies- their enthusiasm and kind hearts.

Saturday was L'aid, which I spent with my host family. Here's the day's highlights in photos:

Ba Ali slaughtered the sheep. Bismillah. After a couple seconds, the sheep started kicking and splashing its blood everywhere. Luckily I was not splattered.

We went to Abinziz's house for lunch, which was everything meat. Kababs after kababs, sheep tagine, then boiled sheep parts. Luckily, I learned how to really say "No."

I spent the afternoon playing with the little ones and various families in my douar, wishing them L'aid mubarak lawashir.

I've passed the one year mark in site. Every now and then, I'm reminded of everything I don't want to leave behind. And then again, I've been away from home for awhile. I'm also reminded of everything I've left.

Currently appreciating:

*Moroccan's close connection with food. Sheep meat doesn't arrive in frozen packages. They slaughter it. They prepare all the meat- start to grill. Similarly is their relationship with fruit and vegetables, particularly in my region. Everything comes from their backyard, literally.

*Having my own house, so I can escape from the blood filled streets/meat and eat vegetables!

*Somia coming over to help me make cinnamon buns with frosting. Omima coming over to taste test.

*Copper chrocheted necklace with added djellaba beads and turquoise stones. Just wait until January when I teach these ladies this product!

*New headband made by Amina and I. She'll pick up the necessary raw materials and show everyone how we made it when I'm away on vacation! Sweeet.

*Clutch purse patterns and prototypes. Filling up my sketch book with Moroccan tile designs.

*Heba's Moroccan jokes. Heba is possibly the sweetest five year old in my site. She's respectful, obedient and always smiling. I visited her house yesterday and she couldn't stop telling me joke after joke. Too cute.

*Old/new clothes from a PCV who recently finished her two-year service.

*My new pondg that hugs me when I lie on it.

*Mushy apples. That gives me a perfect excuse to make applesauce.

*Kicking off my socks in bed, under two blankets.

Monday night, I received shocking news that So-Youn Kim, a YD volunteer who arrived with my staaj (training group), passed away unexpectedly. I only briefly knew her. She had a fiery spirit, that was both polarizing and admirable. This past month, she organized two well-received pottery workshops. My heart ached not being able to attend. My heart aches for her passing, her community (both in Morocco, Peace Corps and the States) and her family.

The following is a letter written by Peace Corps Director Aaron S. Williams:I am deeply saddened to report a respected member of our Peace Corps family in Morocco, Volunteer So-Youn Kim, unexpectedly passed away today after an illness. So-Youn, 23, a native of San Francisco and a 2007 graduate of Stanford University, had been serving for one year as a Youth Development Volunteer in Tamagourte. Her primary assignment was in a youth center where she was involved in a wide range of activities in her dual role as English teacher and youth development worker. Her secondary activities focused on helping the village of Tamagourte’s pottery cooperative and developing an apprenticeship program. She got her hands dirty both literally and figuratively with the lives, pottery and culture of her community. She loved to teach children, support the cooperative and respect the historic craft that is so firmly rooted in that region of Morocco. So-Youn was a remarkable writer, a voracious reader, a tireless advocate and talented in many languages. Thoughtful and hopeful would be the best way to describe her Peace Corps Aspiration Statement and other communications she has shared. In September 2008, she wrote: “Youth development work is effective when young people are taught to become educated, empowered, and responsible members of their communities while being given space to explore and share the challenges of their own individual identities.” This is an ethos and passion So-Youn brought with her to Morocco. I am sharing the news of this tragedy with the hope that all of you will honor her commitment to service by providing the best support, comfort and opportunities to our dedicated Volunteers and staff around the world. So-Youn wrote recently, “I believe in the power of the day to day, the simple yet otherwise impossible conversations, the truths that I speak and live that affect the people around me as I learn from the truths around me in turn.” I couldn’t agree with her more. Please join me in keeping So-Youn’s family and friends in your thoughts.

Here's a clip of Mushmina on YouTube. There's several photos taken from my douar (village).

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mkyncIBIN4k

There are no mistakes, save one: the failure to learn from a mistake.

-- Robert Fripp

My ladies have a history of laziness. No, I take that back. They have a history of being dependent on their PCV. As much as they gained from the previous volunteers, these ladies have been sheilded from the true realities of owning a business. Throw in conservative Moroccan culture and risk adverse behavior into the mix, you get an ugly result. Let me explain.

December 2008, Taroudant. In December 2008, they threw me into the fire. There was a ten-day exhibition in Taroudant. That's an hour away. They wanted to go. Although no one could stay for the whole duration, they figured out a system to tag-team back and forth. That's what I thought. Saturday rolled around and suddenly no one could go. Do I man the stand by myself? I almost wanted to but did not. That's not my role.

I tried explaining all this with my then chicken-scratch language. What did the ladies learn? 1) It's hard to understand her language and jumbled up thoughts. 2) Joy or "Touria" still isn't adjusted to Moroccan life. 3) We missed out on an opportunity because she backed out. In otherwords, they didn't learn anything.

October 2009, Fes. Fast forward to June. I committee of PCVs, spearheaded by Lynn, organized MarcheMaroc. This consisted of workshops, two-day exhibition and individual product quality consultations. I told them about the event before the Women's Center closed its doors for summer vacation. Great! They wanted to go. In late August, the officers showed signs of hesitation. The summer passed and most ladies did not make their assigned quota. We didn't have stock. Ok, that's not a problem. I ran around town ordering bracelet production. I checked back in with them individually mid-September. We have some product- not great but not bad. Who can go? After a headache week of running around town, I got excuses and more excuses. They backed out of an expenses paid-for training and craft fair. Wow.

That's two strikes. They need to learn. Good development work empowers local counterparts. Therefore, I sat down with the officers. I walked them through the event's photos. I talked about the workshops, the feedback I received, exhibition and who sold what, who made how much, product consultations, concert... everything. Before I finished, the Association officers told me they regretted not going.

Ok. That's a start. Now I want to see different results. Did they really learn? Or was all that just talk?

December 2009, Rabat. AIWA organizes an incredible craft fair each year in December. This bazzar has built a reputation for heavy foot traffic. And what do the customers want? Small, cute products to stuff in stockings. And what do we have? A blooming line of crocheted jewelry, which fits in their price range and a Christmas stocking. AIWA always waves the fee for a handful of artisans who work with Peace Corps. We need to go. I'll ET (Early Termination) if they tell me they aren't interested.

I mentioned this opportunity the same week as my MarcheMaroc lecture. They want to go. The Association president even orders ladies to make stock after they finish thier portion of the Mushmina order. That's a good sign. Nice! In following conversations, I explain that all expenses must be covered by us. Can I give them a financial gift? No! (Now I have no problem yelling at them or being blunt.) They're a business. They need to learn how to cover their expenses in full. I explain the concept behind wholesale prices and retail prices. We work through some costing and pricing. They take a microloan from me. I am shielding them from a certain degree of risk. But they need baby steps. This might be the necessary stepping stone to taking out a "real" microloan.

By the grace of God, we were selected to attend AIWA Craft Fair. We secured one of four places! Incredible. And they ladies are halfway done making the necessary bracelet stock. I had a training of the trainers workshop on crocheting with copper. Monday, I will start all the ladies on crocheted copper bracelets. After that, we'll make similar earrings (both thread and copper wire). Two women are fighting over the right to attend this fair. I couldn't be more happy.

Lessons learned? Guilt works. Persistance pays. And now I cannot wait for December.

Currently appreciating:

*The magic of adding baking soda to boiling chic peas and making hummus from scratch.

*Great visit from my Progam Assistant, complete with a chicken tagine and locally made fur hats!

*Productive day in Marrakech. I had a working lunch with Mushmina, meeting with Marrakech's Artisana Delegate, successful bead shopping and spice hunting, trip to the supermarket, topped off with a hot shower and beer to end the evening. What's impossible?

*Being on the PST (Pre-Service Training) Panel. I got to meet the new trainees. There's a tremendous group, with great depth of experience and variety of expertise. Moroccan artisans are lucky! Glad you're here.

*Lunch at the Cascades with those on the PCV Panel. Awesome day, awesome lunch, beautiful smiles from beautiful people.

*Natural dye and color workshops in Bzou. Lynn and I prepared most of the natural dye. It's not as hard as it seems. I cannot wait to teach this technique to my ladies!

*Halloween in Bzou- complete with ridiculous/creative costumes and a carved pumpkin!

*Good conversation with my counterpart and Association president, Aicha. She's too good.

The world was once made of gold.

--Cuna Mythology

I'm nearing year two and time is running away from me. Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings I lead aerobics. On average, nine have been coming! That was last year's peek number. I also teach English classes three times a week. And by popular demand, I will start English tutoring next month. The ladies are on a schedule to finish an export order, stock, start three new products by l'aid kbir. I've scheduled training of the trainer workshops, workshops and product critics with the ladies. I'm in conversation with Programing staff about the Childcare Project. Add regular house visits and errands... I'm a happily busy lady! Awesome. Stop.

That's why yesterday I wanted to catch my breath. Stop. For whatever reason, I needed to hide. But around three o'clock, knock knock knock on my doors. Some neighborhood girls want to play. They want to color. They want to try learn new exercise moves. We spent hours in my house coloring and playing. We then spent the evening in their nearby field. This just reminds me of everything I can't leave behind. Not yet. I still have time to enjoy all this. Stop. Breathe.

I am always doing that which I cannot do,

in order that I may learn how to do it.

-Pable Picasso

I've learned and fallen in love with crocheting. It works out nicely that my ladies' best selling products are crocheted bracelets. Here's a little about two of my completed projects:

Morocco is Mika (plastic) Mecca. Moroccans love their plastic bags. They bag and double bag everything. I had bought several ChicoBag's original reusable two years ago from GreenFestival. And I absolutely love it. I always bring it to souq. My vegetable and fruit seller both know I don't need a plastic bag. My favorite hanut owener now asks where is my reusable bag. Apparently my efforts weren't sufficient. After a year living here, I realized I still used a significant amount of mika.

Thankfully, plastic bags actually make good thread. I flattened each mika, cut it into strips and then threaded the cut pieces together to form one long thread. Now I have another reusable bag to bring with me as I run errands! Trash to treasure! This project got the ladies excited and talking about littering. Inchallah we can do a town clean-up project.

Morocco's economy runs on cash. And my little coin purse become tethered a year-in. I crocheted this coin purse, using the color-switching technique I learned from a stagmate.

Currently appreciating:

*Making alfredo sauce from the Peace Corps Cookbook. A new staple of mine!

*The sisterhood bond between the ladies at my nedi. Amina just had an eye operation. After the nedi, we all pitched in 10 dhs, went to wish her well and enjoy each other's company outside the Women's Center doors.

*The warmth of the sun around 10am. It's like a warm hug. And I'm happy to soak in some vitamin D. A new season is knocking on my doorstep.*Our improved line of crocheted bracelets!! Accent beads can make all the difference. Just wait until our line of similar earrings come into full effect!

*Mushmina's visit. These two sisters are living my dream. And they fit in perfectly with the dynamic in this Women's Center! They came for a beading workshop. Below is a photo of Kate, Mushmina's designer, working with Ikram, an extremely creative girl and awesome English student! Find the crocheted bracelets from my ladies at Queen Anne Dispatch, Queen Anne, Seattle, WA. Whoo!

*Crocheted copper bracelets. Finally, all my raw material hunting, experimenting and crocheting has paid off. It's a higher-end bracelet (compared to the bracelets above) with a higher profit margin! I cannot wait until the ladies finish their stock of the thread bracelets and start on this.

*Seeing community members care so deeply about the Childcare Project. They've mustered together 48 percent community contribution! Talk about impressive.*The restart of aerobics classes. This past week, over 13 women came! That's around last year's peek number. And we're happily moving and shaking to new beats. It's NOTHING compared to running on my own.

*The last thread from umd2008 listserve and our countless memories. It came at the perfect time, after a frustrating week. You guys have no idea how much I wish I could be at homecoming.

Give a man a fish and feed him for a day.

Teach him how to fish and feed him for a lifetime.

--Lao Tzu Don't we all know that quote? Teach a man to fish. Help him, help himself. In the development world, that's the moto. Let's avoid the tragedies as outlined in Michael Maren's Road to Hell. No gifts. No handouts... at least not without sincere local contribution. Development work means building human capacities and transferring needed skills. Think: sustainability. That's the litmus test for any project. Sustainability. Sustainability. Sustainability. How can this be "sustainable"?

Over the past year, such college theory has come to life. Good intentions only go so far. Sometimes, good intentions are no good at all. Living in the community I work means Moroccan counterparts constantly test my boundaries. I found myself reitterating my limits agan and again. I wouldn't change a thing. Because within my limits, lies my contribution as a PCV. Here's a little about what I mean:

Money Matters. I frequently run errands in a nearby town. I need to. I live by myself. If I don't, no one else will do it for me. Consequently, the Association officers often depend on me to pick up raw materials. However, they don't always hand me the cash beforehand. Do I smile and say, no worries it's on me? NO! If they are serious business women, they need to understand costs and expenses. The treasurer records all purchases I've made on their behalf. She clearly documents everything on a page entitled "Bank Touria." And from time to time, she pays me and clears their balance sheet. Granted I'm shielding them for a certain amount of risk. However, I am not funding their product production. I'm advancing credit. Now that my language skills have improved, we can talk about microcredit. There are various lenders in Morocco, particularly to women's groups. We'll see if that's the next step they want.

My current rent situation falls on similar lines. Back in May, my landlord (and next door neighbor) asked me for 3,000 dhs. She just finished building the hammem. The worker was coming later in the week and she was short money. (Don't ask me why she didn't figure the math earlier. I don't know.) I sat down with her and explained my terms. Each month's rent is 600 dhs (approx. $77.55). Giving her 3,000 dhs means advancing her five months rents. However, that stands seperate from my share of electricity and water (we share a meter). She understood and signed off five months on my rent receipt. No problem. October is rounding its corner and my loan has been paid back in full. I cannot give out gifts. But I can teach people about microcredit.

Childcare Project. As expressed early in my service, the women want to finish the nedi roof and provide childcare services and preschool for the village. This means applying for grants, which means creating a project plan and writing a budget. I've held workshops on certain aspects of the grant proposal. Back in May we started talking about the budget. They handed me a rough start. I gave them specific feedback on changing the budget structure. But I never got a revised draft. Do they not care? Or do they not understand?

Through various conversations, finishing the nedi roof remained a top priority. Therefore, I created a blank budget for them to fill in. I told them October is the deadline. I can give them a structure to follow. I'm not going to run around, get price quotes, negotiate with a foreman, etc. If these ladies went this, they'll hunt and organize this information. And if this is truly important, they'll finance 25 percent.

It's not even October and officers have filled-in almost everything. More importantly, they tracted local funding sources and gathered community contribution. We still need to rework the details of this budget and go over the calculations. That I can work with them. I'm simply proud they've done the heavy lifting themselves. Wonderful!

Training the Trainers. My favorite and most rewarding work has been in product development. The Association needed to rethink their line of products. This past year, we focused on developing a line of crocheted assessories. I used a "training the trainers" model when playing with product development. Training the trainers is the popular model workshops. It inherently has a capacity building compenent. Development agents teach a skill, instill new knowledge and motivation to local leaders who, in turn, pass it on. I work with a handful of women, namely those who are more motivated and have a higher skill level. We experiment together. Once we've perfected our idea, they teach the rest. I do this for a number of reasons: 1) It's easier for me. I can work closely with a couple of ladies. Together, we can toy around with various ideas. 2) They can better explain and teach the rest than I ever can. Sure my language has improved, but I'm not on par with a native speaker. No way! 3) I can work on different product ideas simultaneously. Over the summer, two women worked with me on three different ideas. Sweet! 4) It cuts down on experiment costs. I'll post product photos soon!

Letting them make mistakes. Part of learning is making mistakes. In April, the officers negotiated business relationship with a local eco-tourism enterprise. They brought sample products over. The buyer was so impressed, she took everything. She even commissioned four tablecloth and napkin sets. This particular tablecloth and napkin set design required intricate and time consuming needlework. Furthermore, only five women know how to do it. Needless to say, the officers underestimated the time necessary to buy the raw materials and finish the handiwork. In fact, the ladies themselves had no idea. They never had such an order. They never counted. The officers were solely responsible to renegotiate each deadline. Only recently, have I sat down with them and asked, "What really happenned? And what can we learn?" Now they know. Now they really know.

Marche Maroc. "Teaching them to fish" has also meant being comfortable with their decisions. As I've mentioned previously, Peace Corps along with USAID, American Language Center, University Al Akhawayn and the Maroc Artisanat organized a Craft Fair in Fes. There's a day of workshops, two day craft fair and concert for 60 Moroccan artisans. I first presented this information to my counterpart back in June. Sounds great! They said they'd love to go. I reconfirmed the details late August. The president told me she was doubtful- we don't have enough stock. The summer passed and not all ladies made their quota. I laid out my reasons why we need to go. Then I ran around town, telling everyone about the craft fair and ordering them to produce.

That was early September. I checked in, individually, with Association officers throughout September. Each time they expressed doubt. Each time I spelled out reasons this opportunity is too good to pass up- transportation/lodging/table/couscous lunch paid for, workshops, product quality consultations, University Al Akhawayn's Fair Trade website idea, networking, product testing, etc. Each time I made them to say yes. Technically, I got "not no-s." Whatever. Good enough. I can keep pushing. "Not no-s" means there's a possibility.

Ramadan came and went. As did l'aid and its week of preparations. Now it's almost time to go. Who can come? There's two places. Aicha, the president, said she'd ask everyone if they could go. Great. I went ahead and talked to each of them beforehand. Everyone gave me a reason why another should go. Everyone said they'd wait to see what Aicha says. Aicha never went around town. Furthermore, she post-poned our officer meeting from Saturday, to Sunday, to tomorrow. I visited her house today. I need a commitment or a final rejection. They've decided not to participate. Can I bring some products with me? Absolutely not. 1) They need to take ownership of this business. 2) They need to do through the nuances of marketing and selling. 3) Most craft fair expenses have been covered for their benefit. 4) PCVs are not allowed to sell products to the public, anyways.

They're not going. That's it. They need to be comfortable with that decision. I need to be comfortable with that choice. As I jokingly said to Amina, "If I could kick all of you to the exhibition, I would." That power doesn't lie within me. I cannot tell you how badly I'd love to fill-in-the-blanks on their behalf. But I have limits. If I stepped outside those bounds, I wouldn't be teaching them to fish. Damnit.

I'm not one to pass on chain emails. However, I feel compelled to share the following two. They struck me for various reasons. Read on for warm fuzzies.

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A carrot, an egg, and a cup of coffee...You will never look at a cup of coffee the same way again.

A young woman went to her mother and told her about her life and how things were so hard for her. She did not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up, She was tired of fighting and struggling. It seemed as one problem was solved, a new one arose.

Her mother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water and placed each on a high fire. Soon the pots came to boil.. In the first she placed carrots, in the second she placed eggs, and in the last she placed ground coffee beans. She let them sit and boil; without saying a word.

In about twenty minutes she turned off the burners.. She fished the carrots out and placed them in a bowl. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl. Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a bowl. Turning to her daughter, she asked, ' Tell me what you see.'

'Carrots, eggs, and coffee,' she replied..

Her mother brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted that they were soft. The mother then asked the daughter to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard boiled egg

Finally, the mother asked the daughter to sip the coffee. The daughter smiled as she tasted its rich aroma. The daughter then asked, 'What does it mean, mother?'

Her mother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity: boiling water. Each reacted differently.. The carrot went in strong, hard, and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak The egg had been fragile. Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior, but after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened. The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were in the boiling water, they had changed the water.

'Which are you?' she asked her daughter. 'When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean?

Think of this: Which am I? Am I the carrot that seems strong, but with pain and adversity do I wilt and become soft and lose my strength?

Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but changes with the heat? Did I have a fluid spirit, but after a death, a breakup, a financial hardship or some other trial, have I become hardened and stiff? Does my shell look the same, but on the inside am I bitter and tough with a stiff spirit and hardened heart?

Or am I like the coffee bean? The bean actually changes the hot water, the very circumstance that brings the pain. When the water gets hot, it releases the fragrance and flavor. If you are like the bean, when things are at their worst, you get better and change the situation around you. When the hour is the darkest and trials are their greatest do you elevate yourself to another level? How do you handle adversity? Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean?

May you have enough happiness to make you sweet, enough trials to make you strong, enough sorrow to keep you human and enough hope to make you happy.

The happiest of people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the most of everything that comes along their way. The brightest future will always be based on a forgotten past; you can't go forward in life until you let go of your past failures and heartaches.

When you were born, you were crying and everyone around you was smiling.

Live your life so at the end, you're the one who is smiling and everyone around you is crying.

May we all be COFFEE

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Are You Listening????? Washington, DC Metro Station on a cold January morning. A man with a violin plays six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time approx. 2 thousand people passed through the station, most of them on their way to work. After 3 minutes a middle-aged man noticed there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried to meet his schedule.

4 minutes later:

The violinist received his first dollar: a woman threw the money in the hat and, without stopping, continued to walk.

6 minutes:

A young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again.

10 minutes:

A 3-year old boy stopped but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. Every parent, without exception, forced their children to move on quickly.

45 minutes:

The musician played continuously.. Only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while. About 20 gave money but continued to walk at their normal pace. The man collected a total of $32.

1 hour:

He finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.

No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin valued at $3.5 million dollars. Two days before, Joshua Bell sold out a theater in Boston where the price of seats averaged $100.

This is a true story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people's priorities. The questions raised: in a commonplace environment at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context?

One possible conclusion reached from this experiment could be this: If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made... what else are we missing?

Ramadan is the Islamic month of fasting. It falls on the ninth month in the Islamic calendar. From sunrise to sunset, Muslims refrain from eating, drinking, smoking and everything else ill-natured for the sake of God.

Muslims wake up around 4am to eat sehri (predawn meal) and perform the fajr prayer. (Last year in CBT training, there were two men responsible for waking people up for sehri. Thank goodness my village has everyone set their own alarm clocks.) Muslims do not breakfast until the maghrib, the fourth call to prayer at sunset. A typical breakfast (lftor) includes harira, shabackia, dates, juice, cake, eggs with cumin and xubz shama (fat bread). Around 8pm sounds the last call to prayer. I've noticed a significant increase in mosque attendance during Ramadan. Women who ordinarly pray at home, will go to the mosque and pray. They typically stay until 10pm. Afterwards, they eat sahor and go to bed.

Some PCVs choose to fast. I wanted to try. I fasted three days and then became completely unmotivated. Yes, I wanted to understand what my community was going through. However, I'm not Muslim. I like running in the morning. I like being productive during the day. And I don't think it's healthy to starve yourself during the day and then stuff yourself before bedtime. Perhaps my thoughts would be dramatically different if I felt religioius conviction behind these actions. I don't. Everyone in my community asked whether I was fasting or not. On the three days that I fasted, I told them so. But the other 90 percent of the time, I had to explain why not. After a couple weeks, I became tired of reexplaining my choice not to fast. It was either that or lying. So I patiently explained to everyone who asked. Perhaps next year I'll enjoy Ramadan instead of viewing it as an inconvience, inchallah.

Tomorrow is 'id el-fitr, the end of Ramadan. And I cannot wait to get them working! My ladies have to prepare for an exhibition in Fes. They also have an export order to finish by mid-October. The Sewing and Needleworks teacher and assistant have four new products to introduce to the ladies. So you can imagine how happy I am that Ramadan's end is almost here! This past week, I saw signs of the encroaching holiday:

1) Cleaning, cleaning, cleaning. A couple days ago, ladies were all busy cleaning their homes inside out. My neighbor Fatima was no exception. On any given day, she (or one of her two daughters) sweeps and mops her floors at least twice. But this thursday was different. When I passed by her door in the afternoon, I saw her house flooded. That's how you get a deep clean! A cascade rolled down the staircase. They had a pool right by the front door, where the floor sinks in. We could have easily swam a couple laps! (I was grateful to reuse her water to mop my floors, clean my walls and flush my toilet. Gray water is a wonderful thing!) All the mats were out to dry on the roof. The house's furniture was bathing in the sun. Since coming here, I've learned a whole new meaning to cleaning.

2) Shopping for new clothes. It's customary for Muslims to buy new clothes for this holiday. And they are. They've flooded the marketplace. On Friday, I ran some errands in my souq town. It was jam packed! During Ramadan, I've grown accustomed to the crowded marketplace around 4pm, when everyone scurries around to buy food for lftor. But this was ten times that! Peopled filled the marketplace, bargaining for this and that. In my village, most women go to Habiba's for their clothes. Habiba purchases clothes, scarves, perfumes, lotions and other various products. She resells them in the unfinished second floor of her house. All week, I ran into ladies who were either coming or going to Habiba's. I knocked on at least five doors this week, only to find out that they had left to shop at Habiba's.

3) Hammam-ing. Walking around yesterday, I smelled the burning fires from hammams. The hammam is Morocco's version of a steam bath. In my village, households have their own hammam which fits two to three people at once. There's a "fireplace" below the hammam. It steams the cement room and heats up the water. Inside, there are buckets for hot water, buckets for cold water and buckets to mix the two. You use a qss (scrubber), to exfoliate and get a wonderfully deep clean. I've grown to enjoy my hammam trips, especially in the winer. Around 4pm, all the ladies I visited were glowing red from their recent hammam trip. BssHaa!

Mbruk l'aid said! Enjoy the holiday! :)

To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else.

-- Emily Dickinson

I've been in Morocco for a year and a day... not that I'm counting. Cheers stagmates! Here's to another amazing year (and three months)!

Currently appreciating...

*Breaking fast with various families and endless bowls of harira (a tomato based soup filled with various spices, lentils, chickpeas and thin spaghetti).

*The Peace Corps Cookbook. It's filled with delicious recipes, as proved yet again by VSN training weekend.

*Cloudly mornings and cool nights.

*Jdda (grandma, aka mother of my landlord/next door neighbor/Needleworks teacher) coming to the rescue when I inconveniently discover a frog in my Turkish toilet.

*Crocheting and doing various crafts while listening to my new music!

*Trash discussions with my ladies upon seeing my crocheted mika (plastic) purse.

*Copper wire bracelet and crocheted earrings- the latest additions to my Association's product line.

*The smell of my lemon scented artisana soap.

*Understanding enough Darija to follow dubbed Turkish soap operas and the silly comedy series that is playing during Ramadan.

*Finally seeing progress made on the Childcare Budget Proposal.

*Instead of asking if I've grown accustomed to Moroccan life, village women tell me I have.

Celebrate Summer - Sun drenched days and starlit nights...

-- Gooseberry Patch

Summer in Moroccan means slow days, unthinkable heat... 120 degrees, constant bucket baths, sleeping on rooftops, sleepless nights, smoothie and salad diets, beach escapes, family vacations, friend visits, frozen grapes and Moroccan weddings galore. Next year I'm smartening up and planning vacations OUT of Morocco. But my summer was wonderful nevertheless. Here's a cheers to summer in photos:

Moroccan weddings filled this summer. Shebat l3ars. (Translation: I'm full of weddings.) Literally, the whole village comes out for these events. Music, dancing, food, henna-ing... and no one sleeps until the wee hours of the morning. Nice.

Lainie came! And we road tripped in the dead heat. Hit Marrakech, Essaouira, Tiznit and my village. I'm incredibly proud of her. We did this trip on a Peace Corps budget. We squeezed into seven person taxis, slept in cheap hostels, bucket bathed... everything. Shared tagine at Ilham's. Henna-ed our hands at Hafida's. AND she learned some darija. Woo!

Then my mom and sister came to visit. They got a lot of loving from the ladies in my village. Talk about hitting home Peace Corps' goals 2 and 3. Mom learned how to knead bread and steam kskus. Emily made a tagine. We had exciting cross-cultural discussions. We introduced eating with chopsticks! Before they flew out from Casablanca, we stopped in Essaouira. There, we bargained for souvenirs, eat fresh seafood and enjoyed the cool breeze. I'm incredibly thankful my family could catch a glimpse of my life here.

For the four-day weekend, I escaped to Asilah with fellow PCVs. Asilah lies 46 km below Tanger. The mdina is refreshingly clean, well-kept and spotted with murals. Highlights include zwin apartment right on the boardwalk, Moroccan carnival, bumper cars (spinny ride... not so much), big scoops of ice cream, strong crashing waves, Pirates of the Caribbean boogie board and art art art. Minus the harassment, I'd go back in a heartbeat.

Ramadan reared its head last weekend. That means I'm nearing my one-year mark in country. On my plane ride over here, I sat next to a Moroccan native who was working in DC. He told me, "After 11 months of playing with the devil, Ramadan is a special time. You''ll come to enjoy it." Last year, I was still plugging through training. Having school from morning until sunset, I missed most of Ramadan. This time around should be interesting. Last week, I already had the joy of making shebakia with my host family. We balled dough, rolled, cut and flipped these bad boys before frying them in oil, dunking them in honey and sprinkling sesame seeds on top. By 6pm, we had filled two buckets of this pastry. And they still weren't finished!

"Nearly all the best things that came to me in life

have been unexpected, u n p l a n n e d by me."

--Carl Sandburg

What are my days like? I get that question a lot. Quite frankly, no two days are quite the same. I don't have a nine to five job. As America's two year loan to this Moroccan community, I have a marathon to run. I set goals and formed small projects, with a semi-lucid timetable. Crossing off project to-dos dictate my days. Yet in between lies my life here. This past Monday was no exception.

I beat the sun, ran and showered. My nedi has its douar exhibition this week. And I have personal and business-related errands to complete. So I thought- errands in my souq town, return for lunch, then head to the women's center to help set-up, stay until the evening and call it a day. But plans change.

My souq town lies two kilometers from my village. For various reasons, I do not like to browse through town. Since arriving, I have become increasingly efficient with errands. Monday was a record. Stopping at the market, purchasing raw materials, sending a bracelet order and renewing my temporary Moroccan residence card took under an hour! Moroccans can move on Moroccan time. When it comes to souq errands, I prefer to move like a New Yorker.

Therefore, I had extra time to stop by the RARBA office. During IST (In-Service Training), a fellow PCV presented the idea of organizing a regional craft fair. Inshallah, Peace Corps will partner with local municipalities and Moroccan organizations to host these craft fairs. We want to create a venue where artisans who work with PCVs can sell their goods. In addition, these craft fairs also serve as a skills-building conference for artisans. The basic idea: pilot four-day craft fair in Fes, with the fourth day consisting of various workshops (ie costing and pricing, grant writing, succession planning). That was why I stopped by Howara's RARBA office. RARBA is a network of Argan biosphere reserve associations. Among many functions, they train member associations in grant-writing. Wouldn't it be great to use existing Moroccan human capacity in our project? I need a price quote.

Thankfully Miloud was in the office! Thankfully he understood my Darija! I explained the basic premise of this project and asked for a price estimate. This spurred an exciting conversation about sustainable development, development work and Morocco. An hour happily ticked by with mint tea, bread and argan oil. Before I left, Miloud mentioned there would be a celebration tonight in a member organization nearby. He insisted I attend. I could see the work they do and RARBA. Sure. Why not? I have no important to-dos after sundown.

I spent the afternoon transforming my village's nedi into exhibition mode. I hung up table clothes and ceramics work. I arranged and rearranged items to show-off and sell this week. (Please note that this exhibition's audience is local Moroccans. And let's just say, we have differing tastes and preferences.) We wrapped up around seven. And then followed a series of surprises.

1) Frenchies! Miloud explained that members from a French association happened to be visiting. They would also be accompanying us to this event. This association supplies and finances small projects with Moroccan schools. Its members are French seniors, who had toured Morocco several years back and have since decided to invest deeper. Unfortunately, I have forgotten all my French. But we had an exciting conversation, nevertheless. I spoke in Darija. They spoke in French. HCNs translated for us! What a collection of development workers- French donors, Moroccan "change" agents and a PCV.

2) Four cakes! With five additional passengers, we had to wait for another car to arrive. In the meantime, Miloud invited us to his sister's apartment. Her son had just graduated from a culinary school in Agadir. He baked six cakes. How perfectly convenient! Here we are, going to a party, only to stuff ourselves with gourmet cakes beforehand.

3) I have been to Moroccan parties. I have been to Moroccan weddings. However, all of them pale in comparison to this one. Question Association leaders on past work and projects? Forget it. This was not the right place or the right time. At least 700 people were there. Fully catered. Moroccans drummers. Berber dancers. Six piece band. Three course meal- chicken, beef and fruit. Festivities carried on late into the night. It had to. Dinner did not start until eleven o'clock. The ladies did not eat until past midnight. The band didn't set up until eleven thirty. Microphone testing began around ten. The high-pitched singing didn't start until one in the morning. Of course. Why would like night unfold any other way?

I could not asked for a better, unscripted day.

"The most wasted of all days is one without laughter."

-E.E. Cummings

Things that make me smile:

-Running early morning before the sun comes out.

-Yoga-ing mid-afternoon when the sun it hot.

-Cactus fruit... wonderfully delicious, especially when they come free from neighbors!

-Progress on necklace-making!

-Short visits that turn into an overnight ordeal.

-Emails from home.

-Skype conversations that are not dropped!

-Lemon bars.

-Inviting the ladies over for dinner. Ilham spraying soda everywhere because we were laughing so hard.

-My orange linen pants.

-Finding colorful tile fragments.

-Watermelon. Watermelon. Watermelon.

-Cleaning the nedi only to eat snack afterwards.

I arise in the morning torn between a desire to improve the world and a desire to enjoy the world. This makes it hard to plan the day.

-- E. B. White

I remember looking at Peace Corps policies and wondering how is it possible to squeeze in traveling. On paper, we only can take two vacation days a month. As it turns out, traveling is part of my work! I spent most of March out of my community. My neighbors joked, “Once you’ve adjusted well, you need to leave and travel.” Here’s a little on where I went and what I did:

VSN Training. Peace Corps tells you this is the toughest job you’ll ever love. And there’s truth to that. It’s tough. But I have found the rewards to be well worth enduring through. Such is the general idea for the Volunteer Support Network (VSN). VSN is a volunteer driven support network created to provide basic support to PCVs. Previously VSN trained volunteers train interested in basic counseling and listening skills. Thus, VSN volunteers, predominately working on an informal basis, help fellow PCVs cope and get through difficult times.

For five days, me and four others highlighted skills and techniques of a good listener. And we practices skills of building rapport, identifying and discussing emotions, as well as appropriate ways to develop a plan of action. It was great “VSN-ing” as well as getting “VSN-ed.” Delicious meals also accompanied our good conversations. We had penne alla vodka, lasagna, cinnamon rolls (with frosting), zucchini bread….. Yes, I am eating just wonderfully here! We also met women in the local weaving association. They welcomed us with open hearts, hot tea and cake! I need to make my way back and buy a rug. Maybe when that next mandat comes!

Beni Mellal. On March 4, the new PCTs landed! And I had the joy of meeting and sharing with them. For the most part, being in Beni Mellal reminded me of the tangible enthusiasm I felt starting this journey. It took me back six months ago when I was that PCT. I had a million burning questions. And I interrogated each volunteer in hopes of understanding my days to come. With each breath came another thought, another I-need-to-know-and-really-really-really-want-to-know-right-now: “Do you like Peace Corps Morocco? What do you like about it? ...Tell me about your site …Tell me about your community members …Where have been your challenges? …How do you deal with a Turkish toilet? …Does everyone really get sick? …How did you learn the language? …. What am I getting myself into?! What keeps you going?”

Nffsu. Breathe. Somewhere between then and now, these anxieties have disappeared. That or they are no longer as frightening and overwhelming as before. Challenges are ever-present- still battling it out with darija, staying motivated with language, staying motivated with work, understanding what is work, adjusting to the slower pace of life, battling with the money issue, and so the list continues. But then morning comes. I awake for a jog and realize how great it is to be exactly where I am. To any PCT reading this: I think you all are gems. It was my joy to be among you all. Welcome to Morocco. Happy you’re here and will serve along side of me.

Sefrou/Fes/Rabat. PCVs only accrue two vacation days a month. But we’re free to play on the Moroccan holidays for which we are in-country. Add that with weekendays, work-related leave and/or vacation days… BAM! Traveling becomes possible. More importantly, understanding markets, showing my association innovative products and meeting with potential buyers is part of being a SBD volunteer! Here are some pictures that cover the highlights of my trip:

Jonathan and his site!

Also caught Lynn at her site! Morocco is beautiful and green.

Tanneries in Fes. Moroccan sleeping on the job, Fes.

Me and Fes at night.

Rabat, Famous Unfinished Mosquee.

Ouarzazate. I’ve been in country for six months. I’ve been a PCV for four months. Hmmm… where did the time go? What did I learn? Have I really learned anything? Why isn’t this language sticking? Shouldn’t I be more productive? L-hamdullah, SBD 08-10 volunteers in the south convened in Ouarzazate for a much needed morale boost.

In a day, we shared ups and downs of language learning and community integration. We reviewed SBD’s project framework. How can Peace Corps’ SBD program truly reflect our reality? Peace Corps clarified technical difficulties with a new reporting system. And we made suggestions for June’s IST (In-service Training). I think the best part was being reunited with familiar faces and good conversation over panache (a smoothie that has everything in it AND it’s delicious).

I’ve been back at site for a couple weeks now…. I’ve slowly returned to my regular house visits and spontaneous play dates. Amina and I have started experimenting with new products. I’ve written out a few workshop sessions to teach these women what makes a strong grant. I’m starting to teach English classes next week, by the request of my women. But my favorite has to be ryada (exercise) mornings. For an hour, three times a week, I kick, move, shake, dance and yoga with unreserved women. During this time, we leave hsuma (shame) at the nedi door.

February I finally moved into my own place! Here are shots of my crib... a piece of own here out here in Morocco!! :)

A shot of when you walk into my house, then my kitchen:

A shot leading to my room and two photos of my bedroom:

Happy Happy Belated New Year my dear blog readers! A year ago, I was welcoming 2008 with a little blue dress and plenty of New Years cheers in Boston. And what did 2008 give me? Graduation with former Cville Southerns, Daly’s Ecological Economics course, the Baltimore Gunshot, a family at K and Fish, Live from Death Row, 05/27- Joy Appreciation Day, uncountable playdates in DC, a much needed month at home, PST in Azrou, CBT in Itzer, Thanksgiving in Tiznit, Christmas in Sebt Tafrout…. It brought me to 2009. It brought me to a tiny douar (village) out in Morocco, with motivated and open-hearted women.

And here’s an overview of what I’ve been doing since my last entry. I’m glad you have time. Buckle down and listen up.

Loving and Hating Homestay

Yes, I love my host family. Hating maybe somewhat exaggerated. Actually, hating is very much exaggerated. But this past month and a half hasn’t been smooth sailing. Let me try to explain.

My host father is well into his 80s. He is the nedi guard and tends sheep/goats during the day. He always has a great smile. I’ve yet to see him upset. Out of his seven children, two of them still live at home- Mbrika (who works at the adjacent Clementine factory) and Amina (who tends the house and is part of the nedi). Two others are married and still in my village. They, along with their children, frequent my house on a regular basis. His wife died last year. As I mentioned before, I’m incredibly thankful to be part of this family… then there are times I find myself counting down to the day I move out on my own.

-I love them. They are amazingly loving. They look out for me. They care.

-Half my village is somehow related to my family. It makes me feel at home. And I like playing family with them. In particular, I love spending time with my aunt, who lives alone next door. Her husband died not too long ago and both her sons have moved out of the house. She’s wonderfully cute and has always wanted a daughter.

-My host sisters are wonderfully open in that they leave social taboos at the door. We’ve shared countless laughs over otherwise hsuma topics.

-Sometimes their love becomes too overprotective. And with my limited language, I am not always able to explain/defend myself. It’s been humbling to heed orders. It’s been humbling to be reduced to very simple sentences.

-Going along with that, communication has been at times exhausting. They have a habit of repeating what I don’t understand louder and faster. A couple weeks ago, it felt like they gave up on me.

-Then there are nights we have a good and clear discussion. We’ve talked about how I’m adjusting. They knew the PCVs before me. So they are not my ideal language teachers. So they are not Nancy Drew and are not the best decoders of my jumbled, mixed-up sentences. But they have some insight to what I’m going through. They know language will come. For now, that will have to be enough.

-I love how every week I find a new sort of freedom living with them. In the beginning, I stayed at home and did as Amina did. But I’ve realized she does not expect me to do as she does. I am free to come and go as I please, so long as I let her know. I have my own keys to the house.

-I love Amina’s tagines. I love love love the way she prepares fish. Her cucumber and orange soup-like mix is ingenious.

-Other times, my stomach punches me for eating food saturated in oil and grease. I wish I could chose for myself. Mostly, I wish I had the confidence and vocabulary to explain how soggy veggies equals no vitamins!

I think living on my own will give me the balance I need with my homestay family. When I visit, I will visit for a purpose and have a meaningful exchange. And I can always leave when I please. I’ve yet to buy everything I need to furnish my house. Then again, it’s small. There’s not much room to furnish. The house has a toilet, kitchen and bedroom. I simply wish there was more space for visitors’ privacy.

L’Eid Kbir (December 9, 2008)

It was five a.m. Sunday morning. I had gone to bed late the night before but woke nevertheless. In fact, I would have gladly given a million dollars to the person who could sleep through this ruckus. The family came for L’Eid Kbir. All of Baba Ali’s seven children were back under one roof for the holidays.

Days leading up to L’Eid Kbir were spent scurrying around the house in preparation for the holiday. We cleaned the house inside out. Everyone also bathed and scrubbed themselves (and each other) crystal clean. Baba Ali brought the sheep from the barn to the roof, which happened to be directly above my room. At night, I could hear it running across my ceiling. I was tempted more than once to set that sheep free. I wanted to tell him to run far far away. Your days are numbered silly sheep! Escape while you can! …I didn’t do that. Surely, I would have been kicked out of their home. I would have also failed Peace Corps’ goal for culture-exchange.

December 9, 2008. L’Eid El Adha. This Islamic festival celebrates humility, charity, family and community. The festival of sacrifice is based from the story of Ibrahim and Ishmail. Ibrahim was ready to sacrifice his only son Ishmail, showing his faith and submission to God. However, a sheep appeared in the thicket. God told Ibrahim to sacrifice the sheep instead. Thus, Ishmail’s life was spared.

My family all left to pray the morning of L’Eid Kbir. Then it came time for the slaughter and a whirlwind of activity. I don’t think I have the words to describe. So here are pictures to recapture the day’s highlights.

Are you still with me? I’m incredibly proud of my Pre-Peace Corps-vegetarian stomach. It battled through a week of kabob after kabob. It digested odd body parts with only minimal issues. And I came away from this holiday with unforgettable family time! My father is one of eight children. So you can imagine the numerous lively gatherings we had throughout the week! Each night was filled with laughter, dancing and excited chatter.

Taroudant Craft Fair

Coming to Morocco, I’m well aware about the differences in gender roles. Then ago, I didn’t really understand until the Taroudant Craft Fair. From December 26th to January 4th, a Taroudant Artisan Federation hosted a craft fair. Artisans from all over Morocco gathered in Taroudant, just an hour’s trip from my village, to showcase their work. My village is an hour’s taxi ride from Taroudant. Of course we would like to be there.

Although the Taroudant Craft Fair runs from 9am until 9pm, attendance the first couple days was almost zero until approximately 6pm until 9pm. No one from the Association can be at the fair two days in a row. Therefore, no women can stay overnight. And each day, the women need to be at home by dark. That meant we had to leave around 5pm. This was particularly important for the unmarried women. With such limitations, it became clear that this was not worth the necessary time, travel and food money.

These women are extraordinary and motivated. They’ve grown so much since the nedi doors opened in 2003. Since then, they’ve begun to see themselves as dynamic and creative. Their identities have expanded beyond that of a caretaker. Some of them have even traveled without a male relative for training workshops. However, they are still Moroccan women. Their work in the nedi and association oftentimes is in addition to their duties at home.

This was a reality check and eye-opener for me. And perhaps traveling to exhibition after exhibition isn’t what they need. I’ve begun questioning the association’s officers about their past experiences. I also conducted a series of informal needs assessments. Hopefully by early February, I will have a clearer understanding of their goals and possible projects. There is work to be done.

I've left Arzrou and the comfort of the amazing hostel. And I've completed my first week of community-based training (CBT)! Everyone in my CBT group is getting along fine. Peace Corps still has us busy around the clock. Classes run from 9am until 5pm. However, we've spent a couple days outside the classroom, interviewing the local Artisana Association and meeting individually with the weavers. Their craft is amazing. Today, the Association will be hosting an exhibition. I'll post pictures and details soon!

CBT also means living with a host family. And I think mine is beyond adorable. My host mom and dad are both in their late 70s. They have eight children, three of whom still live at home. The family typically speaks a Berber dialect at home. I'm happy to gain insight on a Berber home. Sometimes when I ask "What is this?" (snu hada) or "What is that?" (snu hadak), I'll get the word in Berber from my host mom! However, my host sisters are always quick to correct her. "No no no, she's learning Darija!" hahahaa.

One of my host sisters has a seven month old baby. He's truly sweet although I don't think he's getting adaquate nutrition. My host mom loves to feed him sabakia (a crispier and sweeter version of fried dough) as well as cafe (which is also saturated with sugar). Oftentimes, I see the baby bounce back and forth fairly violently. Talking with the local health volunteer, I see the need for health education. However, the notion of a health pyramid clashes with the sugary, oily and saturated foods by which Moroccans define part of their culture. Also, I still haven't seen anyone in my host family brush their teeth.

On Saturdays, the village has a weekly market. This market is at least ten times the size of Eastern Market. So you can imagine just how excited I was. They have everything there. From second hand clothing to new shoes, from fruits and vegetables to electronics (although I probably wouldn't buy electronics there). I was excited to use my Darija to ask for prices and bargain. I bought what I think will be a week's worth of vegetables and fruits. My host family mainly feeds me carbs. I'm happy to now include more fiber into my diet!

By popular request, here are some long awaited photos! I'm pretty sure you can click on the photos to view them in a larger setting. Sorry I haven't been taking that many. I completely forgot about taking pictures while in Rabat. I guess that means I'll need another Rabat visit! Luckily I'm with many artist photographers. When I figure out how to make cute links to my blog...

This is one of my first glimpses of Morocco.

SBD-ers are incredibly blessed to be staying in an amazing hostel. Believe me, we're not "roughing it." We eat before we even feel hunger. The owner is incredibly sincere and patient. I like practicing my barely existent Darija. Most excitingly, each room features beautifully geometric patterns. AND we have plenty of space up on the roof. It's probably my favorite spot here. Morning meditation and yoga!

As I had mentioned, a group of SBD-ers went hiking about a week ago. And the hike mixed all things wonderful about my Peace Corps experience thus far. We were blessed with glorious weather, a nice workout, sheep/goat herders, men on donkeys and good conversation. Thank goodness I still get the enjoy the beauty of trees, a variety of shrubs, and cedar forests. All that makes me happy.

We wash laundry by hand, then use the solar dryer. It's wonderful. I love cleaning, that didn't change since coming to Morocco. And my clothes were dry in just a couple hours! Thanks, Mr. Sun.

Hello hello! S'salamu εalaykum (Peace by upon you)

I've been in Morocco over a week now! All 58 of us volunteers made it safely to Casablanca then over to Rabat. To the left is a picture of JFK Airport. On the flight, I sat next to a Moroccan native, who now works in DC. It was nice talking about everything wonderful in DC as well as things to look forward to in Morocco. In particular, we talked a lot about Ramadan. Muslims observe Ramadan during the ninth month of the Islamic calendar. It's purpose, as I understand, is purification through forgiveness and self-restraint. He commented, "After 11 months of flirting with the devil, it's good that Ramadan is here." He also remarked that with time, I'll come to appreciate the "Ramadan" side of Morocco. But being in a new place and stretching myself in new ways, it's hard not to appreciate everything Morocco.

Rabat

We spent three days in Rabat, the capitol of Morocco. Since our flight landed ahead of schedule, we were able to see the Peace Corps Morocco Office, an absolutely glorious compound with lush greens, welcoming flowers and intricate tile designs! Time flew in Rabat. Each day, Peace Corps staff had the day mapped out for us. We got necessary shots, an introduction on Moroccan culture, safety and security, rules and regulation, as well as a visit from the Ambassador. I've been grateful to have talked personally with most of the Peace Corps staff and I can tell you, without hessitation, I'm in good hands.

On another note, I've already had a culture blooper! Before lunch one day, my roommate and I decide to head out to the marketplace and buy an adapter. Sweaty, lost and a bit disappointed, we finally stumble into a store that sold tvs. (TV stores have adapters!) But our Moroccan Arabic (Darija) is just barely existent and my French is not much better. After trying to communicate, I decide it's time for charades. I use my left hand to represent a wall and a sideways peace sign with my right hand to denote the plug. I also change it into a fist to represent plugging a cord. I get the most surprised/disgusted look from the store owner. Who would have known that's one of the most obscene gestures?! Only until flipping through the Peace Corps Culture Manual, did I realize clapping your hand over a closed fist is an obscene gesture. In fact, it says in bold, "OBSCENE. DO NOT USE THIS GESTURE." I know I won't ever be repeating that these next 27 months! At least we were able to use some Darija to buy adapters!

Azrou

Now I'm in Azrou, Morocco for about three months of community-based training. The bus ride only took two hours. And though I was exhausted, I couldn't bare to take my eyes away from the window. It's in the Middle Atlas Region, surrounded by rich cedar forests and various fruit trees. Azrou means "rock" in Berber and used as a center for trade back in the day. My Blue Planet guide book describes the town as a "cheerful, hassle-free little place." And my time here, thus far, has been nothing less. I'll explain more in a later post. But here's a snapshot of Azrou, nestled in the mountains.

Take care and send me questions! I'd love to hear from you.

Each Peace Corps training group meets for "staging" before leaving the States. Staging functions as a mini orientation for the three months of training and two years of service to come. For Morocco's Sept 2008 Small Business Developers (SBD) and Youth Developers (YD), staging takes place in Philadelphia. And I couldn't be more happy! It's close enough that some Maryland loves came to send me off. They even came into the hotel to check me in. When riding up the elevator, someone asked if we were all Peace Corps Trainees (PCT). Nope, just Joy. hahahaa. My friends are more than wonderful.

Peace Corps staff bombarded us with a wealth of information. From Peace Corps101 to safety and security, from hammering out anxieties and aspirations to defining success. It's a lot of information to digest. Before dinner, I needed to run and sort through all which has been thrown my way. I can only imagine how intense training will be. However, my fellow PCTs are incredible individuals. And I've only known them a couple hours! I'm excited to grow, learn and serve along with them.

It's the one month mark to my leave date! This past Monday, I attended a Peace Corps meet and greet event at Busboys and Poets. The more I talk to former volunteers, the more excited I am for the 27 months to come. Yet, for the moment, I'm wrapping up loose ends, reading everything about small businesses, "learning" Moroccan Arabic, and getting involved with The Center for Arts in Natick. Time is slipping through my fingers. And then again, my leave date can't come fast enough.

To take a step back, I should explain why I'm joining the Peace Corps. Didn't I read "The Road to Hell?" (which explicitly stated the surmounting challenges in international development) in GVPT354?! Wasn't I the big skeptic when Jenny started the application process? The following paragraphs reveal a glimpse into my reasons why.

Once a week, I had the joy of facilitating a discussion on human rights in a DC public high school. The class consists of 9th through 11th graders who only have a 1st through 3rd grade reading level. One lesson came after the students finished taking their PSATs. The difficulty of the exam greatly frustrated the students. During that lesson, I asked the students to draw a picture of themselves or something that represents them. Cheyenne drew a picture of a flower. She said, “Flowers represent beauty. That’s what I’d like to become.” Though years behind her peers in reading, Cheyenne understands the true challenge set before every individual. My college journey has been an experiment on how I can best be a catalyst for social change. I pursued Economics, hoping to learn the magic models and formulas that can eradicate society’s problems. I eagerly delved into international issues with a hungry appetite. I took advantage of the resources in the university and DC to gain an understanding of social justice work in practice. Through the process, I realized the importance of reevaluating who I am. In the summer of 2006, I took an informal course entitled, “Alternatives to Violence” with Professor Coleman McCarthy. He constantly stressed the importance of our daily actions. During one session, a student asked how we can nonviolently end the Darfur genocide. He responded, “Shut the door gently behind you.” Undoubtedly, individuals can organize, educate others and pressure elected leaders, among other tools. However, our next immediate action is leaving the classroom. We should use even the smallest of actions as opportunities to be a beautiful person. My internship with Coop America reinforced this notion. As their corporate research intern, I continuously investigated the environmental and social consequences of corporations. I saw how my everyday actions, in particular consumer choices, were linked to larger realities. What statement am I making with my dollar vote? Is that consistent with the values in which I firmly believe? How can I be someone beautiful, even when I’m not writing a letter to free an innocent prisoner? To answer that question, I see how much I need to grow. My perspective is heavily western. The Peace Corps not only offers an opportunity to work for social justice, but also provides the type of abroad experience I wish to have. Being a Peace Corps volunteer requires an understanding of local culture. I’m excited to step outside of my box and immerse myself in an unfamiliar environment. There is something to be said when individuals work for the recognition of human dignity. There is something even more beautiful when both parties learn and grow in the process. I want everyone to realize their inherent beauty. Hopefully my flower can bloom more brightly as well.