Laugh Loud and Often

Volunteer Life

2008-01-05T06:50:00.000Z

This article was first publised in the in-country publication PeaceWorks/Summer '07 edition ...

Essential Ingredients of Volunteer Life, One PCV’s Perspective

Manage Expectations & Personal Accountability.

Mutual Respect & Open, Flexible Communications.

Get Involved & Stay Involved.

Create Support Networks.

Develop Routines.

Acknowledge Culture Shock.

# # #

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

Come Into the Light

2008-01-02T10:10:00.000Z

Living in Morocco was an interesting experience in many ways. Indeed it is probably one of the most liberal of Muslim countries; I witnessed this act of religious tolerance first hand every day. I was asked if I was Muslim¹ on a daily basis. Typical conversation (translated in English for my benefit):

Moroccan: Peace, brother! May Allah bless us this day!
Me: Peace to you in return!
Moroccan: How do you like Morocco?
Me: I'm happy to be a guest here.
Moroccan: Are you Muslim?
Me: Not yet.
Moroccan: Islam is the best religion. We believe in all the great prophets!²
Me: Oh, that's good to know.
Moroccan: Say this with me, my brother, "I testify that there is no true god but Allah, and that Mohamed is the Messenger of Allah."
Me: "I testify that there is ..." hmmm what happens if I say this?
Moroccan: Just say it, you'll be a good Muslim. Repeat after me, "I testify that there is no true god but Allah, and that Mohamed is the Messenger of Allah."
Me: Thank you, but I should go now.
Moroccan: Allah protects you in your travel!
Me: Peace be with you!

The above conversation, whether with a stranger or a member of my host family, recycled itself without fail.

1. Because to people in my community they don't understand why I would be in Morocco if not to become one with the religion.
2. Buddha isn't considered a prophet. Muslims consider Buddhists to be immoral (not amoral) and god-less. Though I don't identify as Buddhist, I was often told bluntly by complete strangers that I could still go to heaven if I converted to Muslim. I guess my share of 50 virgins will go to someone else.

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

Homebound - the short take

2008-01-01T10:00:00.000Z

This the last SMS text message I sent in Morocco to some friends and volunteers:

"Thank you Morocco! Boarding plane for an epic 36-hour, airport-hopping journey: Fes-Paris-New York-Los Angeles. See you out in the world! NL" - Fes airport, 18:12, 12 December, 2007

Getting out of Morocco was easy, but the security check in Paris was not easy. Because I had lived in Morocco for more than two years, there were many, DETAILED questions about my activities abroad. Unfortunately the non-American security check personnel for the American-based airline had never heard of the United States Peace Corps; I had to discuss in detail the mission and goals of the Peace Corps, my host-family, my Arabic language skill, etc.

I had been up practically all night so that I could catch the first AirFrance Coach bus from Orly airport ot Charles De Gaulle airport. In my sleep-deprived state, I managed to explain everything coherently if not slowly, and subconsciously throwing in Arabic phrases that confused the inquisitor; this only prolonged my detention with airport security.

All this was worth it to get on the plane, where it was a good feeling washed over me as the cabin crew treated like a human being.

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

Signing Off

2006-10-13T18:03:00.000Z

I alluded to the fact that this blog is no longer flying under the radar, that it is actively being observed by forces beyond my comprehension. Spikes in site traffic from certain domains beg the question of why the increased traffic from said domains: does this blog have anything of value to offer think tanks?

The bottom-line to all this cloak-and-dagger is that some options surfaced, including:

RADICALLY

⁴

This blog is in no way retired, it is just suspended. This blog served as an extension to my journal (as I mentioned many entries ago), and suspending it neither invalidates my experience, nor diminishes my commitment, as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Morocco. So, it looks like I'll need to look elsewhere to fulfill the Peace Corps' Third Goal; YouTube and flickr come to mind! The mice in me noggin are scheduled to work overtime for other solutions⁵.

Last blog entry during In-service, First-Year Peace Corps/Morocco Volunteer posting. Blogs of other Peace Corps Volunteers can be found on the left, under Blog Parade, and elsewhere on the Web. This blog has been suspended. Inshallah, my traditional, paper-based journal continues to record my experience until Close-Of-Service at the end of Nov '07. This is Nam LaMore, Peace Corps Volunteer in the Middle Atlas of Morocco, signing off

⁶

1. Any Silicon Valley six-grader knows that Web pages are cached on many servers, and can take YEARS for edited and/or deleted pages to actually vanish on the World Wide Web; until then, these so called unwanted, abandoned and orphaned pages become part of the vast, expanding cobweb.
2. You're kidding, right?
3. Though I've tried to be sensitive about cultural and safety/security issues with each entry, I'm far from infallible. As Alexander Pope said, "To err is human." The other part of this quote is sorta boring, so I've leaving it out.
4. Thinking it through, this is not an option! If you think otherwise, then the Peace Corps might not be for you!
5. No, email SPAM is not an acceptable solution!
6. Complete plagiarism from the end of the sci-fi horror fest Alien (1979), where Ripley (played by then-unknown Sigourney Weaver) reports before going into deep sleep, "Final report of the commercial starship Nostromo, third officer reporting. The other members of the crew, Kane, Lambert, Parker, Brett, Ash and Captain Dallas, are dead. Cargo and ship destroyed. I should reach the frontier in about six weeks. With a little luck, the network will pick me up. This is Ripley, last survivor of the Nostromo, signing off."

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

I HEART San Francisco

2006-10-05T10:18:00.000Z

I'm feeling a bit homesick, specifically for San Francisco, California.

Aside from staging all-night Ramadan movie marathons of bootleg DVD movies with the City by the Bay San Francisco as the location set, this Peace Corps Morocco Volunteer looked through his photo archive and created the following heart-arts postcard. More about the 130+ heart-arts at the website Hearts in San Francisco.

Here's a partial list of movies I'm watching¹ with San Francisco (or the Bay Area) as the set location ...

The Maltese Falcon

Vertigo

hawt

Birdman of Alcatraz

The Graduate

your

American Graffiti

Invasion of the Body Snatcher

Sister Act

The Joy Luck Club

They still don't believe me.

Mrs. Doubtfire

Basic Instinct

Interview with the Vampire

Forest Gump

Koyaanisqatsi: Life Out of Balance

Star Trek: The Voyage Home

What Dreams May Come

The Princess Diary

Armistead Maupin's More Tales of the City

⁴

If you're not familiar with these movies, hop over to the Internet Movie Database, IMDB, and check out the write-ups (some are not unlike sixth grade book reports).

This post is dedicated to all the Peace Corps Volunteers, past, current and inspired, who call San Francisco, and the Bay Area, home.

1. Listing and watching these movies is in no way my endorsement of their entertainment value; I simply have them in my DVD collection.
2. She's moving out of the Bay Area to be closer to her niece.
3. He's been keeping me updated on Hollywood's gossips & rumours; but he's been MIA for a couple of months, so I've no idea what that crack-smoking Whitney's been up to or if Britney's popping out another swamp rat.
4. He's moving back to NY, saying that the City by the Bay is a bit too laid-back for him; exactly the reason why I HEART San Francisco.

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

The Joy of Ramadan

2006-09-24T22:40:00.000Z

I'm not sure where all the time went¹, but a whole year has gone by and it is time to celebrate the "holy cottonmouth month"² that is Ramadan! Today is the first of 30 days of fasting from dawn to dusk. In addition to fasting, Ramadan is a time for me to put away my pressure cooker, frying pan, utensils, practically everything except my tea pot and tea glasses. Why hide the cooking gear you ask?

Well Ramadan is a time for each Muslim to celebrate and reflect all that Allah has provided, and spend time with family and friends. Fasting all day can be trying, so lftor [breaking of the fast, "break-fast"] is the first meal that is rejoiced with much anticipation. My Moroccan friends, neighbors, artisans, etc know that I live alone³, so I've lined up lftor invitations for the next 30 days .. l'humdula .. no cooking for an entire month!

I fasted 25 of 30 days for Ramadan last year, breaking the fast a few days due to illness.

There has been a tug-o-war of a sort over my blog. Though not on the same conflict caliber as waged between the eternal forces of Heaven and Hell, this is causing some stress and I am purposely limiting my blog posting until it is resolved. However, this won't limit how much time I spend reading your blog; on the contrary, I'll be spending more time lurking on your blog while the fate of my blog tiptoes on eggshells among giants eavesdropping on my blog.

1. The days and weeks seem to blend into each another since my arrival; the changing seasons, a new concept for this native Californian, help to mark the passage of time.
2. Nearing the end of a fasting day, the corners of the mouth collect bubbled spittles. This, with the betrayal of slurred, irrational speech, can make it difficult to discern one who is infected with rabies and one who has been fasting all day.
3. I'm sure they, and you, have many questions for me: Who does my laundry? Who cooks for me? Who cleans my apartment? Who tucks me in bed each night? Who takes out the trash? Who cares for my pet parakeets? Who waters my houseplants (yeah, not plastic)?

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

Weekly Shopping at the Souk

2006-09-16T08:16:00.000Z

An experience that is greatly enhanced in Morocco but greatly diminished States-side is the weekly shopping experience. The souk [weekly outdoors market, sort of like a combination flea- & farmers-market] is the place to see and be seen. If I don't typically see my neighbors and artisans during the week, then I'll catch up with them at the souk -- rain or shine.

Unlike most other Volunteer's site in Morocco, I have the option to go to two weekly souks¹: Mondays and Tuesdays. However, I prefer to go to the much-bigger Tuesday weekly souk. Going to the souk is a social event for me, and it includes stopping by the fish-fry tent for lunch.

The souk is the place to go for cheap, seasonal produce; I spend less than 20dirhams (about US$2.25) for a week's supply of fruits and vegetables. If I run out of fresh fruits and vegetables during the week (usually because of visitors or spoilage), then I go to a local green grocer. I don't own a refridgerator, so I've had to learn to shop and cook for one.

I suppose when I'm ready, I can buy a donkey at the souk.

Click on image for a better experience.

Mohamed sells reed-woven goods at the souk. I've bought two straw hats (I forgot the first one on a bus) and two large baskets from him (for laundry, in an effort to keep my place tidy).

My dining room table comes from Boujad, the capital of cheaply- & massly-produced furniture².

Samir and his son, they travel from Boujad to Tangier, stopping off in Khémisset and other places along the way, to sell affordable furniture.

1. Most Volunteer sites, in Morocco, have a weekly souk; however, some sites do not have a weekly souk, so Volunteers at these sites travel out of their sites to the closest souk-town for their weekly shopping.
2. Furniture made in my town can easily go for five times the price of the Boujad-produced furniture.

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

Call to Prayer

2006-09-11T11:13:00.000Z

My apartment is on the top-floor of a four-story building. The building is directly across from a HUGE mosque. I didn't even think twice about NOT renting this place, thinking to myself: "How often am I going to have the opportunity to live across from a mosque?"

The muezzin [call to prayer] happens five times daily, lasting just a few minutes each time¹: pre-dawn, mid-morning, noon, mid-afternoon and dusk. It's sorta-funny-in-a-you're-not-suppose-to-laugh way when there's a problem with the microphone, or when the iman [man who does the calls] coughs or clears his throat into the microphone during the muezzin. I had considered getting a wallclock for my home, but the calls are so precise that it's not necessary to get one; the 4:30am² call is great when I need to get up early to catch transportation out of my site!

As of today, the Fifth Anniversary of the Attack on the World Trade Center, September 11, 2001, I have heard the call to prayer more than 1800 times!

Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar
[Allah is most great, Allah is most great]

Ash-hadu anna la- Illaha Il-Allah
[I bear witness that there is no other object of worship except Allah]

Ash-hadu anna Muhammad-an-rasoolullah
[I bear witness that Muhammad is the messenger of Allah]

Hayya alass-salah
[Come to prayer]

Hayya Alal Falah
[Come to success]

Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar
[Allah is most great, Allah is most great]

La-ilaha il-Allah
[There is no other object of worship except Allah]
1. The call is a capella, but sometimes, I turn up the music on my laptop computer to add to it.
2. From my perch on the roof, I can see some of my neighbors going to the mosque. I can say with conviction that I don'tjudge those who do not go to pray; they are still good Muslims to me!

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

Boujad Fantasia, Part II

2006-09-08T14:12:00.000Z

Boujad is a holy town with a marabout [either a saint or his tomb] on every corner¹. Though mosques can be seen in any village, town or city in Morocco, marabouts are only in some places. In general, non-Muslims are forbidden to enter these sacred grounds. There are many marabout-towns in Morocco, and some well-known marabout-towns include Rabat, Moulay Idriss, Meknes, Fez, and Casablanca.

LS-the-Peace-Corps-Volunteer²-assigned-to-Boujad is a gracious hostess, but her pet cat is from hell³. According to LS, my multi-day visit with just a few scratches is a record low!

With the mercury climbing and hovering around 50° C mid-day, we decided to go to the souk [weekly outdoors market] at the break of day. Waking up at 5:30am, we arrived at the souk by horse-drawn cart; coincidentally, it was the same driver and his horse-drawn cart to take us to the fantasia field the next day.

Arriving at the dawn-light souk, we first walked over to the carpet souk before shopping for vegetables. Carpet weavers from the bled [country-side] formed a big circle to show off their carpets, and the middle-men arrive to inspect and buy the carpets. My hostess and I were neither, but I'm sure the weavers and middle-men were staring at us for different reasons. By the time the carpet souk finished, around 6:30am, we walked over to vegetable tents that were set up for shopping.

Click on image for a better experience.

Carpet souk in Boujad at dawn.

The same cart-driver who took us to the souk also took us to the fantasia area.

The green-garbed fantasia rider!

The fantasia war exercise: riders on their mounts with rifles in hand preparing to charge across the field.

1. Slight exaggeration. There's probably a marabout on every other corner.
2. Due to safety and security, no names! However she agreed to have her picture posted here.
3. Just like other supernatural creatures, every attempt at taking a pictures of the hell-cat came out blurry or distorted; so just like Count Dracula, there's no picture of the cat. You'll have to take my words for it, he [the cat] exists.

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

Boujad Fantasia, Part I

2006-09-07T08:14:00.000Z

Chain-lightning streaked across the sky. Thunderclaps heralded approaching greatness. Dust storms blinded on-lookers. And the sound of neighing horses echoed in the distance. Was the Age of Apocalypse at hand?

No, I was at Boujad's annual moussem (festival to a local saint) last week, and the fantasia horse show was just starting.

Boujad is some five or six hours south-west from my site. Flagging various local transports including grand taxis and souk buses, I was greeted in the Middle Atlas holy town with 50° C¹ heat. My artisans and I had traveled separately to the festival².

Although I never caught up with my artisans - the fantasia war exercise and the craft fair were held in different parts of the town - I had a great time at this cultural spectacule.

I think the fantasia in Khémisset was cancelled this year; I asked around and no one seemed to know about it. However, the Moulay Idriss (near Meknes) moussen is coming up.

Click on image for a better experience.

The fantasia, rain or sun, takes place on a vast wheat-harvested plain. Many nomadic Berber tribes gather to trade goods and to compete in the fantasia³. Dressed in fine, traditional Arab clothing, horses and riders charge across the field and shoot their muskets in unison⁴.

Fantasia horses are no ordinary work-horse: they are ripped with muscles and well groom. Only stallions are allowed into the fantasia ranks and files. According to Berber folklore, only men and virgin women are allowed to ride a fantasia stallion; a non-virgin on a fantasia stallion would corrupt the equine, causing it to loose its power and speed.

Each tribe repeatedly formed the line, charged across the field and fired off their rifles during the three-day competition. I haven't a clue how they are judged, or what technicals or fashions (best in show?) are critical⁵.
1. 120° F
2. It was a last-minute requests from my artisans for me to accompany them, and I had to get travel approval from my delegation, community counterpart, Peace Corps Morocco staff and police. Luckily there was no red tape, and everyone was in a cheery mood, to get the Work-related Leave Form signed to leave site.
3. I was told the winning tribe gets a huge sum of money, 15 million dirhams. Why would nomads all this money? Where would they put all that money, in the Bank of Nomads?
4. Akin to the Olympic synchronized swim team, there's always a rider or two who would fire off his rifle early or late.
5. I have this same ignorance when watching an ice-skating competition. It's all magical to me.

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

The Updated Blog Mission Statement

2006-08-29T19:28:00.000Z

Leading up to the start of my service with the Peace Corps, the content and tone of my blog changed but I hadn't update its original mission statement ... until now. As an Idealist, the Peace Corps' mission is in alignment with my own vision of world peace and friendship:

In 1961, President John F. Kennedy established the Peace Corps to promote world peace and friendship. The Peace Corps' mission has three simple goals:

1. Helping the people of interested countries in meeting their need for trained men and women.

2. Helping promote a better understanding of Americans on the part of the peoples served.

3. Helping promote a better understanding of other peoples on the part of Americans.

My blog is a vehicle to achieve the Third Goal of the Peace Corps, and the updated Mission Statement is as follows:

MISSION STATEMENT
'Laugh Loud and Often'
(http://nlamore.blogspot.com):

This blog is one of the manifestations of the Third Goal of the Peace Corps: Helping promote a better understanding of other peoples on the part of Americans.

I have decided not to change the title of this blog, in part due to my subscription base of two longtime lurkers who would get very confused, and downright angry, by a title change.

I have been asked to attend a craft-fair in the Middle Atlas, so I will not update until my return sometime early next week.

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

Rabat Murals

2006-08-28T09:02:00.000Z

I was in Rabat this weekend, just to escape from the heat in my town. Instead of hitting the beach (as I have done most summer week-ends), I decided to just walk around the Moroccan capital taking pictures. I came upon a group of murals that were striking. Taking countless pictures, I plan to use the images for my computer's screensavers and backgrounds (as I did with the images of murals in Meknes); here are just a few of my favorites:

I was to attend the Imilchil Wedding Moussem (festival in celebration of a local saint) this last weekend with artisans from my town; however, the craft fair part of the event was cancelled and the artisans did not go. I still could have attended on my own, but decided that I could use more down-time from my vacation from the week before. I'll likely attend next year's Wedding Moussem, with or without artisans!

ON A DIFFERENT NOTE: With much anticipation, I picked up a bootleg DVD copy of Bryan Singer's Superman Returns. Well, I was disappointed; I'm surprised that Singer puts his name to this garbage; with a production price tag of US$350 to US$400 million, various sources say it might break even. SUPERMAN RETURNS SUCKS. It's worst than Halle Barry's Razzie Awarded Catwoman. Brandon Routh makes a great Man of Steel, Kevin Spacey isn't the most memorable menace as Lex Luthor (this wasn't a spoiler for anyone, I hope), but I'm voting for Singer to get a Razzie Award.

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

Vacation to the Rif Mountains, Part IV

2006-08-24T20:36:00.000Z

This is the final installation in a series of posts for a recent vacation trip to the Rif region of Northern Morocco.

Part I: Nador and Al Hoceima
Part II: Chaouèn
Part III: Martil and Cabo Negro
Part IV: Tetouan and Fès (You Are Here!)

Tetouan is surrounded on all sides by limestone mountains, and low clouds often linger about the city. The royal palace, at the center of Place Hassan II, is within the medina; and, interestingly enough, some surrounding shops share a common wall with royal buildings¹.

This is one of the many gates to get into the medina; I forget the name, but it is just across from the artisana school/museum.

This is one of the most magnificent traffic circles I have ever seen. Andalusian music melodically pours from the water spray. While sitting at a cafe to people watch and enjoy the music, a Moroccan elder sat down next to me and started to talk to me. Quickly realizing that I didn't understand Spanish from my grimace, he switched to Arabic and was surprised that I was able to hold a short conversation with him. He invited me to have stay with his family the next time I visit Tetouan .. enshallah.

Cats abound in Morocco, and there's always one to greet or say good-bye to a traveler. This one, just like the cat in Chaouen, waved to me as I made my way to the bus station.

Leather tannery cooperative in Fès. The place smelled awful from the still bloodied hides of lamb/sheep, goat, cow, horse and camel. Touring the leather cooperative is informative: lamb leather is the softest (good for jackets), while camel hide is the most durable (great for seat cushions).

Yellow-coloured leather is much more difficult to dye than other colors. Instead of soaking in vats, the yellow colour is derived from olive oil infused with saffron. Oddly, the price of red vs. yellow slippers are the same. Perhaps I can convince my program manager to move me to Fès to help the cooperative with business development! When in Fès, be sure to stop by Terrasse la maison des Tanneurs: 2, Chouara Blida Dar Dbagh.
1. Imagine the property value! Owner: "Yes, I have a duplex available but you'll be sharing the common wall with the King ... is that ok?"

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

Vacation to the Rif Mountains, Part III

2006-08-24T09:42:00.000Z

Quaint seaside resort towns of Martil and Cabo Negro¹ on the Mediterranean coast are just under half an hour from cloud-covered Tetouan. As with most tourist destinations, these seaside resorts offer someone like me, a high-society, cultural packrat (NOT!), exactly what I sought: comfort, convenience and relaxation. There are plenty of cafés and a couple of art galleries, but the pristine beaches are far more inviting.

As much as I enjoyed my stay in Chaouen and my recent stay in seaside town of Al Hoceima, Martil and Cabo Negro felt far more relaxing.

I walked along the beach practically every morning and evening for the sunrises and sunsets. One one of my morning walks, I ran into a policeman patrolling the beach. Coincidentally, he said that he was from my site² and had been stationed in Martil for the last eight months, with two more years before returning home. Peace Corps Volunteers in Morocco are officially assigned a local police officer to look into our safety, but I think this was just a coincidence that he was from my site. I keep telling myself that I have not been followed by the Moroccan secret police force since my arrival.

(Click on images to enlarge.)

A cliché: Imagine sitting on the beach, listening to the calls of the sea and taking in the saline air.

Now, imagine sitting on the beach and listening to the call of a camel.

Yes, there is a ClubMed for those who in need of pampering. Unfortunately, I'm on a Peace Corps Volunteer income.

All quiet on the beach.

Boy fishing off a jetty.

Man preparing to troll for mollusks.

Beached fishing boats.

Discovered a secluded cove for fishing and swimming.

Fishing boats at sunset.
Next destination: cloud-covered Tetouan, the trading city that inspired the fictional planet Tatooine in the "Star Wars" universe.
1. Stayed in Martil, and walked along its beach to get to less-crowded Cabo Negro beach. I spent so much time walking up and down the beaches that I don't really distinguish between the two.
2. He gave me contact info for his family and that I should visit them for couscous on Friday.

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

Vacation to the Rif Mountains, Part II

2006-08-23T17:37:00.000Z

The Rif Mountains region is internationally associated with the cultivation of hashish¹; having gone to the UCSC², you'd expect me to know this .. but I didn't .. and that's not the reason I decided to visit Chaouen. One of the reasons I wanted to visit Chaouen was to visit an artisanal weaving cooperative that came to a recent craft fair in Khemisset: Association Youssoufia pour les Homme Handicapee.

The association consists of about 40 artisans who are primarily weavers; they were invited to participate in acraft fair in my town. I took the opportunity to meet with the association's president (pictured) to learn about their marketing strategies and product development, and how I could help them. This "postcard" shows some of the wool fabrics they weave and sell; some members are also tailors and seamsters, making fine winter jackets and coats. I've already ordered a coat in anticipation of a cold winter.

Chaouen is very tourist-friendly, where guides and shopkeepers are not overly aggressive in dealing with tourists, i.e. they don't grab you by the arm and pull you into their shops.

Once a year, the majority of homes in the medina are bathed in a whitewash lime mixture of water and blue paint; the blue is thought to ward off the evil eye. We arrived in town rather late in the day, during high tourist season. Vacationing on a shoe-string budget, we slept on the roof of a pension that first night.

This is a typical blue-painted door of homes in the medina.

The region around Chaouen is popular with tourists looking for hiking trails and camp grounds. Going on a four-hour hike-loop took us across hashish plantations and slowly up the foothills of the Rif.

Trekkers hiking just a short distance outside of Chaouen are rewarded with this dramatic townscape; even locals take pride in their town and the fresh air (often with a hint of kif).

One of the attractions in Chaouen is the ancient kasbah (fortress-castle) with its quiet garden and retired prison. The kasbah and the 15th-century Grand Mosque (with its distinctive octagonal minaret) are in the cobbled Plaza Uta el Hamman.

This is a view from the inside of the prison tower of the kasbah.

One of the buildings next to the defunct prison now serves as an art gallery for visiting artists. I forgot to write down the name of the artist, but his works is clearly influenced by Hinduism.

I was already making plans to visit Chaouen even as I took an early morning stroll through the medina.

One of the many cats in the medina saying bye-bye as we headed out towards our next destination: Tetouan and the coastal town of Martil.

1. Hashish is also known as cannabis, marijuana, MJ, kif, etc.
2. University of California at Santa Cruz; however, many UCSC alumni also refer to the higher education institution as Uncle Charlie's Summer Camp for its Redwood forests and idyllic beaches.

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

Vacation to the Rif Mountains, Part I

2006-08-23T09:19:00.000Z

As Volunteers, we have responsibilities to our communities; thus, leaving site, for work or otherwise, is strongly discouraged¹. That said, I planned my vacation late June and turned in the necessary paperwork: mapping out my travel itinerary in detail for each day. After notifying my community counterpart, discussing out-of-site travel with the police officer assigned to keep an eye on me, and seeking approval from my program staff, I prepared for my vacation to the Rif Mountains and the Mediterranean Sea. Packing was simple: toothbrush, toothpaste, dental floss, three shirts, two pairs of shorts², straw hat, money and national identity card.

The next few posts will consist of my visits to Nador, Al Hoceima, Chaouen (Chefchaouen), Martil, Tetouan and Fes.

The vacation started with a quick stop in industrial steel-town Nador. The Spanish influence in Morocco is noticeable immediately from the architecture to the "holas!" greetings. Many people were surprised with my regional Arabic, and had difficulty understanding me.

I sat at a local cafe waiting for another Volunteer³ and watched the hustle and bustle of morning activities. Meeting up with my travel companion, we made our way to Al Hoceima, the first vacation destination.

Al Hoceima is a seaside resort that is popular with Moroccan tourists. The town is on the west side of a large crescent-shaped bay.

The EuroFerry docked in the harbour at sunset.

Al Hoceima's buildings are characterized by "tile-skin," such as seen here.

Hanging out in Al Hoceima reminded me of just relaxing in Any Beach Town, California; I was a bit homesick as we left for the cooler mountain town of Chouen. The bus ride across the Rif Mountains was rough, periodically getting close to the edge of the often one-lane road. We stopped a few times during the six-hour busride to allow people to empty their vomint bags and bladders.

1. According to Peace Corps Morocco Policy & Procedure Handbook, September 2005 Edition, there are two basic rationales for this policy: 1) Saftey and Security; and 2) Integration into community.
2. Though my site is not super-conservative, I don't wear shorts while in site because, well, I just don't need MORE unwanted attention.
3. Due to safety and security, I cannot identify my vacation/travel companion.

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

Postcards For Everyone

2006-08-11T18:20:00.000Z

Thank you to everyone for sending postcards since my arrival in Morocco -- they are nicely decorating my concrete walls. As adhesive tape is ineffectual on concrete, I've come up with the clever usage of cloth pin (relatively inexpensive) and dental floss (free from the medical office)! Dental floss is strung between door/window frames, and anywhere I can pound in nails (none to date).

As a Volunteer, I have limited disposable income; thus, I've not been able to send out as many homemade postcards as I would like to.

So, this online postcard is for peri, kallun, the tweneys, sarah+andrew, lester and mquest+jr. (left-upper) A sculpture dedicated to the King, Khemisset; (left-lower) mosaic close-up; (middle) carpet from the Middle Atlas²; (right-upper) Hassan Tower from the garden, Rabat; and (right-lower) mosaic close-up of.

And this one is for amerazn, jadedmaniac, scott+ian, frankysbride, the dutched pinay and love hurts. (left-upper) Jemaa el Fna mosque at sunset, Marrakesh; (right-upper) Hassan Tower looking towards the Atlantic Ocean, Rabat; (right-lower) "Allah, Country, King" in lights on the side of a mountain, Agadir; (left-lower) carpet from the Middle Atlas; and (center) mosaic close-up.

And this for GAK in the Bay Area, AF+DL in Silicon Valley and a friend in Oregon (you know who you are!). (top row) ceramic dishes, clay jugs, and traditional Moroccan slippers; (middle row) dyed reeds use for basket weaving, me, and arched doorway of a mosque; and (bottom row) carpets (these are mainly from the towns of Khemisset & Tiflet), mosaic close-up, and clay pots. These were all taking in or around Rabat and Sale.

Advance apology for forgetting anyone, but I'm going on vacation shortly and have much to do before I take off. I'll post again in early Sept when I get back to my site³.

1. Entries forthcoming.
2. Carpet weavers-sellers in my town have been teaching me about carpet patterns, symbolism, etc.
3. Due to safety & security issues, I cannot post my travel itinerary.

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

As Time Goes By

2006-08-11T00:14:00.000Z

The last few months could have gone better. Busy with work was not a problem, but getting sick for prolonged periods really got to me. I remember my programming staff saying, "Volunteers get very busy six to nine months into service as you begin to get a grasp of the kind of work you'll engage for the remainder of the service." When this was said, I remember rolling my eyes to which my programming staff shot a look that could kill. Well, I've sent an apologetic note to the programming staff doubting her words.

This is my First Year In Service Activities Calendar (click image to enlarge), and you can see that I've been very busy.

To my amazement, my language is much better than I give myself credit for; this was brought to my attention when a fellow Volunteer visited my site and commented that I seem confident in speaking the language¹! Community leaders, including my at-site work supervisor and counterpart, no longer refer to me as miskin (poor thing). My local green grocer knows what veggies I ask for and sets them aside for me. My local post master knows to hold my mail when I tell him I won't be back for a couple of weeks due to a craft fair. My assigned policeman no longer feels like he has to follow me because he knows I can handle the verbal harassment and curiosity from neighborhood kids.

In addition to having a busy schedule, I've also had to deal with giardia, dysentery and relapses²; Pepto can only go so far before the doctor gave me something much stronger. Though my stomach of iron has been compromised, I've not cowered behind my own cooking. On the contrary, I've been eating at far more adventuresome places (... to be recounted another time). O the joy to provide "samples-on-demand" for lab analysis! I think I've finally got the parasites out of my system, as I've been able to function normally in the recent weeks and no longer on the BRATT³ diet.

1. In reality, I often just use simple phrases that are widely spoken in my site. As with most sites in Morocco, this is a multi-lingual site where French, Darija (Moroccan Arabic, and Berber dialects (three of them) are widly spoken.
2. There was a period of three weeks that I left my apartment only three times a week to get needed food & bottled water.
3. Bananas, Rice, Apples, Tea and Toast.

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

Letter From Senator Barbara Boxer

2006-08-10T08:20:00.000Z

Early in the week, I received a States-side letter that evoked the same swell of curiousity and chill as when my community counterpart showed me a letter from the Ministry of Tourism; this time it was a letter from California's Democratic Senator Barbara Boxer.

Click on the letter to see her bona fided, rubber-stamped signature. Also, as I haven't seen high-quality paper in a long time, it was such a rewarding experience to feel and touch the "PRINTED ON RECYCLED PAPER" watermarked letter; try to find the watermarked eagle emblem on the upper right corner¹. It does not take a keen, CSI-², foresic-trained Peace Corps Volunteer to deduce from the metered postage stamp that this letter was not mailed from the States (though the envelope is purported to be from Fresno, California); rather, it was mailed from Peace Corps/Morocco office in Rabat, Morocco. I cannot think of how else 3.25dh can be put to better use!

I think I'll send Senator Boxer's office a nice thank you postcard!

1. Ignore the "2005" under the emblem; this was probably an overstocked batch of letterhead papers in attrition mode.
2. Crime Scene Investigator.

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

Weekly Fish Fry at the Souk

2006-07-03T10:43:00.000Z

I enjoy going to the weekly souk (outdoor market¹) to stock up on fresh vegetables and housewares. It is also a very social place, as I get to practice my Arabic language and get to see those in my community that I typically don't see during the week.

My site, Khemisset, hosts the largest souk in Morocco, and the carpet section is a great place to buy Berber carpets directly from the weavers at a bargain. I usually spend time at the carpet souk to learn about symbolism, dyeing techniques, colour schemes, etc. After a year, I'm beginning to differentiate carpets from the various Berber tribes in the Khemisset Province, including those from the towns of Khemisset, Rommani, Oulmes, and Tiflet.

I am fortunate to have two weekly souks in my site, Mondays and Tuesdays; however, I prefer the Tuesday souk because I know more of the vendors there than at the Monday souk. Tourists, if any, rarely venture into my souks, not sure why as they are great places to meet people and have a remarkable cultural experience.

One of the vendors I make an effort to stop by is the Fish Fry Tent². These guys know I like to get about eight to ten dirhams worth of fish fry (I think they are mackerels, but not sure) and half a wheel of bread. I sprinkle paprika and salt to taste for a wonderful weekly lunch.

The fish is dusted in a flour mixture (salt, spices) and then deep-fried.
AN IMPORTANT NOTE: I've yet to get sick eating at the souk. Let's hope it stays that way.

1. States-side these are known as flea markets or farmer's markets.
2. There are about six fish fry tents, but I always go to the same one -- per recommendation from the artisans I work with.

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

In-Service Training

2006-06-21T11:56:00.000Z

A few pictures taken while attending the In-Service Training Conference, June 12-17, Agadir.

On the beach in Agadir, Morocco

"God, Country, King" - on the hills overlooking Agadir, Morocco.

Boardwalk of Agadir, Morocco.

Boardwalk of Agadir, Morocco.

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

Time to Hit the Beach!

2006-05-15T13:44:00.000Z

The weather is beginning to warm up, but I hear that some sites in the Middle Atlas are still getting snow in May! My sympathy goes out to all Volunteers at such sites. It's still cool in my site, but it's perfect beach weather in Rabat. I go on weekends when I "think" it'll get too hot in my site.

To get to the beaches in Rabat, I often use the trail that bisects along the medina, meanders through the cemetery and ends at the lighthouse cliff; from here, it's a simple climb down the cliff-face to reach the beach¹. Though non-Muslims are allowed to enter this cemetary, I keep a low profile when crossing it, i.e. keeping my shirt on, wearing pants, paying respect to mourners, etc.

1. I'm sure Peace Corps' Safety & Security Officer would rather I take a more worn route to the beach.

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

Room with a Sunset

2006-04-01T09:11:00.000Z

Finally found an apartment to rent, and it has a great view of the sunset from the kitchen. The best part: there are many windows for lots of light! More later.

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

Unexpected Dinner Guest

2006-03-20T11:03:00.000Z

We had an expected dinner guest last week. The (bad) host-brother¹, made a ruckus upon coming home one afternoon. I've largely ignored his antics, numbed from living with the host-family for the last five months or so. Besides, I was putting the final touches on a few documents in preparation to go to a Marrakech Festival; however, the host-family insisted I come to the stairwell to see what was going on. I was asked to bring my camera.

My thought, half whispering, to myself: "Oh great, another relative has stopped by for a visit and they want me to take pictures. I don't have time for this!"

I left my work to see what was up and, to my surprise, it was not a visiting relative. The host-brother had brought home an owl. They wanted to know if it was ok to put it in the birdcage I bought a couple of weeks ago. Unless they can manipulate matter on a cosmic scale, that wasn't going to happen. The owl was much larger than the birdcage, almost twice as big; but who knows, maybe it's just the ruffled feathers and, once watered or calmed down, it would be no bigger than a sparrow. Caged or not, it was not going to be a pet for long. The host-family just wanted to keep it somewhere while they went to the swirka [daily outdoor market]. I left for the artisana at this point.

It does not take the cunning mind of Sherlock Holmes to figure out what happened next. Seeing owl feathers all over the roof-top, I realized that the owl had, indeed, become the dinner for that evening. We had owl tajine² that night. If you did not know already, then I'll tell you that owl is gamey and does not taste like chicken at all.

Back to preparing promotional materials for the upcoming craft festival.

1. By bad, I mean the non-religious host-brother. I have two host-brothers: one is the icon of a koran-toting saint, while the other has tempted me with Meknes-grown wine.
2. I'm surprised we had cooked the owl because the host-family is very concerned about bird flu. When I first got here, we had chicken about five times a week, now host-mom cooks chicken about once a week. I can add owl tajine to the Peace Corps cook book.

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

Letter from Ministry of Tourism

2006-03-08T10:26:00.000Z

My counterpart¹ recently showed me an official-looking document (notice the rubberstamp on it to signify it is "official") with my name on it, and proceeded to tell me it is from the Ministry of Tourism. Finding an official document with my name on it is interesting enough; but a document written in a language that I cannot read takes on a whole, new level of urgency to get it deciphered ... where is my decoder ring? Peace Corps provides a universal translator decoder ring to every Volunteer².

According to the letter from the Ministry of Tourism, I am to draft a document proposing my "2006 plans" on what I expect to do with the cooperatives. This is a case of placing the cart before the horse. How am I supposed to figure out what I plan to do?!? Not only have I been at my site only since December '05, but I do not have the language skills or bigger community-picture to know what needs to be done. So, the next few weeks will be "interesting" as I figure out what goes into the "2006 plan". Personally, I think my counterpart should be doing this. But whatever. I'll whip up something shortly. Unlike many corporate proposals I've done in the past, I can actually write this one out by hand instead of a Powerpoint presentation!

On a non-work related, slightly-culture related excursion to Rabat last weekend to meet up with Peace Corps Volunteer SAJ³, we ran around Rabat buying bootleg DVD movies⁴, walking through the medina, looking for the the U.S. Embassy⁵ and lunching at Pizza Hut. Below are a few pictures of Tour Hassan and the mausoleum of the late King Mohammed V. I was surprised they allowed (and even encouraged us) to take pictures of the tomb. As SAJ's assigned site is in the South, I will rarely get to see her (or other Volunteers in the South) except on her occasional visits to Rabat for medical check-ups or administrative paperworks.

1. A counterpart is a community leader (usually, but not always, the president of the artisan cooperative) Peace Corps Volunteers in the Small Business Development sector work with. The term "counterpart" is a bit misleading, because (in talking with other Volunteers) the counterparts usually see themselves as our supervisor and take great pleasure reminding us that we need their permissions to do anything; I am (un)lucky that my counterpart lives in my site/town.
2. A universal translator is on my wish list.
3. Actual names have been changed/withheld for obvious reasons (re: safety/security).
4. I suppose I was shopping for therapy, as I spent half my living allowance for March on DVD movies. Having to extend homestay this long is stressful.
5. We were actually looking for the American Club, a membership-only restaurant for American citizens; instead we found various embassies including Peru, France and People's Republic of China.

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

How Did That Make You Feel?

2006-03-01T16:07:00.000Z

After a long week-end of extensive sensitivity training in interpersonal relationships, I am now a Volunteer-run Support Network (VSN) peer counselor; a role very different but can often be confused with being a 'friend' to other Peace Corps Volunteers. Peace Corps/Morocco staff recognizes the need to fund and support VSN. Though I was not knighted by beloved Moroccan King Mohamed VI or presented with the Purple Heart, group hugging, hand-holding and late-night revelations of the Moroccan psyche were more than any Peace Corps Volunteer could ask for.

During the training in the picturesque town of Sefrou that consisted mostly of role-plays and group discussions (instead of clinically-scrubbed lectures), we learned to internalize several techniques that any good peer counselor deploy should the Bat-phone be activated. These included:

ACTIVE LISTENING: Techniques include Paraphrasing, Clarifying, Perception Checking, Questioning, Silence, Assurance, Reassurance and Summarizing.
IDENTIFYING EMOTIONS: This is much more difficult than any of us thought at first. So much of this session is about talking to pin-point the emotion(s) felt.
TYPES OF RESPONSES: During this session, we discussed the various response mechanisms: Physical (heart palpitations, rashes/hives, shakiness, back pain, grinding teeth, biting fingernails, etc), Behavioral (i.e. yelling, stuttering/stammering, verbal mistakes, excessive cursing, substance abuse, poor hygiene, listlessness, etc.), Emotional (i.e. feeling overwhelmed, panic, hopelessness, apathy, frustration, etc.) and Mental (i.e. self doubt, difficulty concentrating, mental blocks, etc.).
CRISIS COUNSELING¹: BASIC Functioning is Behavioral (what is the person doing?), Affective (what is the person feeling?), Somatic (how is the person functioning?), Interpersonal (how is the person relating to others?) & Cognitive (what is the person thinking?)
STRESS MANAGEMENT vs. COPING MECHANISM: We brainstormed stress management and coping mechanisms.
CLOSING: In closing a counseling session, it is important to leave an open door for the counselee to contact the counselor; follow-up is encouraged, but not always necessary. Never close a counseling session with the remarks, "Good luck and take care!" We all agreed this seems too cavalier and condescending, with an implied abandonment.

Here are some inappropriate responses when counseling²:

Ordering, directing, commanding ('Stop crying .. you have to face reality!')
Warning, threatening, promising ('If you calm down, I'll listen to you.' & 'If you just talk to me about it, I promise you'll feel better.')
Moralizing, preaching, should's, ought's ('How can you do this to your family/friends/etc.' & 'You should/ought to do this ...' & 'I think it's wrong for you to ...')
Advising, providing solutions rather than options ('I suggest you ...' & 'Go out and make some friends!')
Judging, criticizing, disagreeing, blaming ('You're wrong about this.')
Name-calling, labeling, stereotyping ('All first year volunteers feel that way.')
Interrupting, analyzing, diagnosing ('You're jealous.' & 'You don't rally believe that.')
Reassuring, consoling ('Don't worry, things will get better.')
Withdrawing, distracting, diverting ('Just forget about it.' & 'We've all been through this before.')
Minimizing ('It isn't really that big of a deal, is it?')
Talking more than the person being conseled!

The weather cleared up just long enough on the last day of training to allow us to take a walk around town, through the river-divided medina and up a hill over-looking the Sefrou valley.

GOOD LUCK AND TAKE CARE!

ethereal box of randomness
social contract
walking up and joining a conversation is unusual in moroccan culture.

1. We spoke briefly about clinical depression, and were told it is best to contact a professional counselor through the Peace Corps Medical Office if we suspected the counselee was clinically depressed. My dream of writting prescriptions as a peer counselor went out the doors as I head those words.
2. For me, this is the most obvious difference between peer counseling and friends just talking.

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

Artisan Postcards

2006-02-20T09:40:00.000Z

A simple post this week, due to a few reasons including:

looking for a house to rent continues to be the top priority.
work was overwhelming last week, and won't slow down this week.
work-related travel towards the end of the week.
I'd rather you read Peace Corps Volunteer's blogs this week (see sidebar blog parade/africa section), especially blog maintained by cory¹. not sure how he does it, but he updates his blog several times a week; the content is outstanding.

I am finally satisfied with the wood-carving cooperative catalog I started working in December, and the "administrative workers" of the delegation are also pleased with it. The quality and usability of the catalog is much better than I, or the delegation, had expected; though printing is expensive in Morocco, they are printing a few catalogs to take to a craft-fair in Paris mid-March.

With the catalog mainly out of the way, I can focus on another project I've been thinking about: postcard/business card¹. Below are two samples; feel free to give your honest feedback (layout, photo/content, font, etc) via comment or email so I can improve them. I've overcome the cost of printing with recommendation of photos (instead of cardstock paper). The artisans can print these and sell them to tourists at the cooperatives, or/and give them to attendees at craft-fairs. I've greatly simplified the strategy/objectives .. but you get the idea.

1 Cory is an interesting Peace Corps Volunteer in that I'm convince he is actually composed of two, if not more, people (I'm not even talking about multiple personalities). He can surprise me with fact-backed discussions on global politics and religion one moment, and then turn his attention to something so mundane such as accidentally burning his socks as if it was the top debate at the United Nations.
2. This is not an e-commerce blog; however, as I learn more about the artisans and their crafts, I'll be happy to discuss what you might be looking for and how to go about buying them.

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

Rabat Run

2006-02-12T15:16:00.000Z

Last week, several volunteers were asked to come to Rabat for language-related activities. Though Rabat is fairly close to my site and I have been there before, this was my first opportunity to "see" the capital. The first time I came to the imperial city was September 13, 2005, with the new batch of Peace Corps Trainees-to-be-Volunteers; I can now appreciate the reasons for limiting our movement at the time. Rabat is not an especially dangerous city as capitals go, but, nonetheless, it is a metropolis and most of us did not have the cultural sensitivities and language skills to wander about the town on our own. For the language activities, most Volunteers arrived in Rabat a day ahead of the work-related day because of travel (no travel after dark policy); I decided to arrive on the morning of the language workday.

As my site is a thoroughfare, it was not difficult to find transportation going to Rabat. Grand taxis leave for Rabat about every 1/2 hour throughout the day, and about every 10 minutes during the busiest parts of the day (eary morning and at sundown). Taking a grand taxi¹ is more expensive and more crowded (six passengers to a sedan) than bus, but it is much faster because there is no need to stop and pick up passengers villages and towns along the route. The grand taxi stand for Khemisset in Rabat is near the old medina and I got in rather early, so I leisurely walked up the main drag of Avenue Mohammed V to the hotel meeting point. From the hotel's rooftop, I could see the Great Mosque Es Sunna, and, squinting into the distance, could make out Rabat's twin-half Sale; I have yet to find a reason to visit Sale. I sat on the hotel's rooftop enjoying my morning coffee and reviewing vocabulary before heading down to the conference room.

The training director briefly thanked us for making the trip (some volunteers had eight hours of travel to make it to the meeting), and explained the purpose of the meeting. The director needed Volunteers from a variety of background and language proficiency to prepare culture & language tutors for the next batch of Peace Corps Trainees. Though we were not tested on our language proficiency, I did get the sense that some Volunteers were competitive as they spontaneously conversed in their trained language; Volunteers learn one of three languages: Darija (Moroccan Arabic), Tamazight (Berber dialect) or Tashelhit (Berber dialect). Luckily for me the language training did not affect our service; otherwise, I would be mass-emailing of my premature return to the U.S. instead of recounting the Rabat run. I had not seen most of the other Volunteers since the Swearing-in Ceremony in late-November 2005, so it was good to catch up with them.

During a long break/lunch, some of us took a quick excursion to the tourist-magnet Hassan Tower. This is the unfinished minaret of the great Hassan Mosque, constructed by Yacoub el Mansour in the last five years of his reign after his victory over the kinds of Castile and Leon at Alarcos. The unfinished tower, numerous columns, ancient fortress wall, cloudless blue sky and the Atlantic Ocean as a backdrop provided an impressive, picturesque view. From this crest, visitors have a commanding view of both Rabat and Sale.

Channeling a life before Peace Corps, Volunteer KW², in jest, asked, "This is a great place to have a rave or concert, don't you think?"

As my session was after lunch, I left the others to find a hotel for the night before heading back to the conference room of the hotel-meeting point. I arrived with only moments to spare before the tutors came looking for me. The session was structured and uncomplicated. Before we started, I told them I have been under stress due to lack of finding decent housing. I was told to just relax and do my best, that this was not testing my language proficiency but helping the tutors to understand how best to help Trainees/Volunteers learn. Feedback on and priority of topics were important.

The tutors asked me a number of questions in Darija (my trained language) and took notes on my use of the language. I often had to use French when I did not have the vocabulary in Darija. I think I did ok, as they asked me only basic questions: where is my site, how many host brothers & sisters do I have, what am I doing in Morocco, which hotel am I staying in Rabat, how I was adjusting to Morocco, etc. Done with the interview, they said to enjoy the rest of the day, and to make sure I get back to my site before dark the next day.

That night, I got together with other Volunteers for a nice dinner and to catch up on all that's happened since our arrival in Morocco. Volunteers from the previous year came to dinner with us, so they gave us sound advice on making the best of our Peace Corps experience, and, more immediately, on places to go in Rabat that night. We had dinner at the Goethe-Institut³, a restaurant-bar-gallery operated by the German consulate. The decor theme was 70's Americano with posters of Andy Warhol, Bruce Lee, James Dean, Elizabeth Taylor, etc. I felt out of place in there: beer on tap! ham on the menu! My Moroccan host-family would think it hshuma [shameful] for me to be in there!

Accustomed to getting up early⁴, I checked out of my hotel⁵ early the next morning and took a walk down to the medina. Except for a few cafes nothing was open at that hour, and so I wandered about aimlessly down one of the spines of the medina. Serendipitously, I came upon a cemetery, and beyond the vast cemetery was the sentinel lighthouse of Rabat. The cemetery seemed more serene with the oceanscape rather than the cityscape behind it. You be the judge.

Walking along the cliff lead me to Plage de Rabat and the Kasbah of the Qudayas. The beach and the ancient fortress were largely deserted at this hour because it was still far too cold for most Moroccans and early in the season for the tourists. It's hard to believe the elements have not completely oblitereated the kasbah. From the kasbah, I walked back into the ancient medina and was encouraged to see stirring of activities. I wandered down the main shopping street of rue Souika before joining other Volunteers for a morning cup of coffee. After coffee, each of us had separate plans and so we said good-bye. My only plan was to get back to my site. I didn't really need anything, so I was just happy to "window-shop" as I strolled passed vendors hissing at me to get my attention.

ethereal box of randomness
5,000th photo milestone
last week i took & kept my 5,000th picture since arriving in morocco; however, the 5,000th absolute picture was taken in mid-december 2005.

1. Khemisset to Rabat is an hour by grand taxi and two hours by bus. I prefer to take the bus when I'm not in a hurry, or don't feel like fighting for a seat.
2. Actual names have been changed/withheld for obvious reasons (re: safety/security)
3. Goethe-Institut Rabat is at 7, rue Sana'a, Rabat; tel: 037.73.26.50, down the street from the central post office, I think (it was dark, so I'm not entire sure where we were but I remember passing the clock on the building). I have been to places like this during my time in corporate life; however, I actually felt uncomfortable being in there that night, I think that's because I know that Peace Corps living allowance does not allow me to be here.
4. My homestay family does not believe in sleeping past 7:30am, unless it is an electricity-free day. On most days, the first call to prayer just before dawn wakes me and I rarely make it back to bed..
5. I stayed at Hotel Central at a rate of 120dh a night (room had shower), within Peace Corps allowance in Rabat.: 2 rue Al Basra, Rabat; tel: 037.70.73.56

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

Down to the River

2006-02-06T16:58:00.000Z

As I continue to learn more about Khemisset, I feel that much more comfortable and fortunate to be assigned to this site. I learned recently from my host-family that in 1990, one of the rivers cutting through the Meknes region overflowed its banks and flooded the valley (no one was hurt). In spite of seeing more rainfall during the last couple of months than in California annual rain-cycle, there has been no flooding in the region this year.

The rain has made it difficult to dedicate time to house-hunting; the upside of this is that I can check for leaks when it is raining. The housing situation has not changed, I am still with the homestay family; but we're back to a "normal" diet instead of sheep at every meal.

I came across a herd of goats climbing and foraging trees by the river banks. I spoke briefly with the shepherd, who was curious why I was taking pictures of his herd. In my very broken Moroccan Arabic, I told him that I had never seen such a thing¹; he did not think it was unusual for his herd to be in the tree. Due to perspective, it is difficult to tell that the goats were a good ten feet off the ground in the picture.

The countryside continues to burst in a profusion of colors in response to the warming weather² and rain-soaked loam. Note the solar panels on the house in the last picture; I did not notice the solar panels at the time and only came to my attention when I was reviewing reviewing images to delete.

ethereal box of randomness
in buying poultry
according to my "health handbook": if possible, by a live bird and fatten it yourself for a week or two. choose a lively full-feathered bird. the coxcomb should be bright red and the feet smooth and not too scaly.

1. Volunteers in the Southern regions said it was a common sight, but did not realize the phenomenon was also seen in the Northern regions; as I was on my bicycle, I'm pretty sure I had not reached the Southern regions.
2. It is now warm enough that I neither require three pairs of socks to be comfortable going to bed, nor five layers of shirts (and a windbreaker) to walk around outside.

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

The Post Office Adventure

2006-01-30T12:16:00.000Z

A couple of weeks ago I received a notice from the post office¹ informing me of a package from the U.S.A. Though I've received a few boxes since my arrival, all of them have been from the Peace Corps/Morocco office. They have been mostly medical supplies I needed to treat one ailment after another; travel and stress can really nail even the healthiest of persons. Except for allergies and severe hay fever, I never, ever get sick ~~(black-outs from all-night cocktails do not count)~~.

The postal notice clearly said it was from the U.S.A., so I was excited with questions: Who could it be from? What could be in it? Did Papa Noel forget that he had already sent me a bike? Did the medical staff have to have supplies sent directly from the D.C. office? In a hedonistic fashion, I dreamt that the package contained my "wish list" of things I had taken out from my suitcase, or forgotten, to bring to Morocco. The silent day-dreaming was interrupted by greetings as I walked up to the post office.

Arriving at the post office and waiting some 30 minutes to talk to the familiar clerk² about my postal notice, I was sorely disappointed to discover that the package needed to be signed for in-person at the central post office in ancient imperial fortress-city Meknes, an hour away. I thought, "Great, I always like day-trips to Meknes. This gives me a good reason to see the fortress-city again." I set off early the next morning so I could have some time to explore parts of the town before going to the post office. The morning/afternoon looked like this:

* walked up the main street to Bab Mansour (no tourist on this day) and talked a bit to a man selling terboush [hats] next to those impressive gates; I bought a green/white terboush (but not at tourist price).

* entertained the thought of taking one of those horse-drawn carriages lining the main street in front of the medina plaza, but decided to enjoy the morning sun and watch store merchants set up their wares and listen to the plaza medicine man talk about the wonders pungent, multi-hued concoctions.

* explored the food, household goods, hardware and electronic sections of the souk; this was an exercise in pricing items, really. I wanted to see if it was worth buying things for my new dar [house] in Meknes or my own town. Taking copious notes and photos, surely I must have played into the conspiracy theory that Peace Corps Volunteers are just really CIA agents³.

* finished with the souk but not ready for the post office I decided to meander through the labyrinthine fortress-city. I was not worried about getting lost in the maze because it was still early enough in the day for me to retrace my steps if needed -- an added benefit of taking lots of pictures is that I can easily retrace my steps.

* emerged from the maze onto one of the King's Palaces (where photos cannot be taken); the guard said the Royal Family does not spend much, if any, time in Meknes, even if there is a Royal Golf Course, Stadium and Lake⁴.

After spending the entire morning walking around Meknes, I thought it prudent to bee-line it to the post office before I got carried away in my wandelust and forgot the reason for the out-of-site leave; Peace Corps is serious about volunteers staying put for two years at their assigned site⁵. Asking for direction every couple of turns was good language practice. Of course, asking for directions from a dozen strangers got me a dozen different ways to get to the same place; try it in your own town and you'll know what I mean.

I am eye-witness to the fact that Morocco likes official buildings to be on the grand scale. The central post office for the Meknes region is astonishingly impressive (I thought it was a Macy's department store at first); take my word for it because taking pictures of government buildings is prohibited. In the picture, the post office is to the left of the Hotel DeVille.

Going to the post office duirng lunch (from noon-ish to two-ish) gave me cart blanc to the service counter. Showing my postal notice to the clerk, I was told I was in the wrong part of the building. WTF?!? Though the building was impressive there was only one set of doors to enter (as far as I could see), so how was it possible for me to be in the wrong part of the building?!? I was instructed to go out the set of doors, turn the corner and follow the building's length until I see a little entrance for package pick-up; she added that I could not possibly miss it as there would be others waiting to claim their packages.

Playing it cool, I strolled down to the package pick-up entrance. The clerk wasn't kidding, I queued up in the mile-long line. I gave the clerk my postal notice and passport, and the postal worker said to just mill about until my name was called. I sat in a corner and read one of the fictions Peace Corps sent, all the while keeping a hawk-eye on my passport on the counter. Having reader's block, I decided to just watch the activities in the room. The postal workers servicing the mob was very efficient. How many postal workers does it take to get a package for someone? It takes four, each has a specialized task:

To reduce confusion and increase customer service (complete attention to a single customer), only one postal package could be opened, inspected, documented and tariff paid for at a time. I felt bad for the woman whose postal package content of personal garments and lingerie were arranged on the counter for all to see. An hour and ten customers served after my arrival at the post office, I heard my name called at the service counter.

The plain, brown-paper wrapped package was slit open, the content was recorded and I was told I owed 250dh in tariff; content checked as "gift" and declared at US$100 on the manifesto. Mind you had I heard the tariff collector say "Si LaMore, you owe $25 dollars" then it would not have thought twice about paying the tariff; however, saying 250dh (about the equivalent of US$25) is a huge chunk from my Peace Corps living allowance. At this point I considered these options:

not

Reluctantly I paid the tariff and, like the Greek titan that is the namesake of the Atlas region, carried the 27-pound package for all to see. A couple of blocks later, I stopped by "Palais du Poulet" (Chicken Palace) for lunch - a nice break from the grilled-sheep-at-every-meal of the last couple of weeks.

THIS IS THE MOST IMPORTANT PART OF THE ADVENTURE. Commandeering an adjoining, empty table during lunch, I had the chance to look over the postal package in detail. It came from my friend ANN FINNIE, Public Relations Manager for Desktop Products, Hewlett-Packard Company; we became good friends when I worked there years ago. She was one of the few I confided in (a couple of years ago) regarding plans to join the Peace Corps. Jumping from Corporate America to Peace Corps is a move that many corporate-knowledge workers would consider, but not actually "go for it".

"While this printer is brand new to you, it's 'out of cycle' for our publicity/tradeshow purposes and this is a perfect example of what we do with our products once they have served our marketing purposes."
~ Ann Finne, PR Manager, HP

I had already taken for granted that we would stay in contact during my two-year Peace Corps service; though busy with constant work travel, she always find time to send off e-mails and annual Holiday Letters to her friends and family. It came as a complete surprise to get a brand-new, kick-ass HP PhotoSmart 8450 Printer. The contraption is right out of James Bond's Q's workshop: it is so elegant and over-the-top with technology that it can make ~~a dirty martini~~ an espresso, do laundry and entertain guests at the push of a button. Ann thoroughness is legendary: she had the foresight to send enough photo paper and ink cartridges to last my two-year service. The artisan coops will be very happy to have the use of the printer; printing is extremely expensive in Morocco⁶.

I must have had a He-Man complex, as I decided to schlep the box all around town on my quest to reach the maHatta [bus station]; it would have been much easier to flag down one of the blue-colored petite taxis or white-colored grand taxis⁷ criss-crossing the fortress-city. The benefits of making my way on two legs instead of four wheels kept me from turning into a popsicle from the cold, dry-air of the Middle Atlas, and afforded me opportunities to casually snap pictures of murals along the trek.

The adventure ended as any epic quest should end: reaching home safely, forever changed from the experience⁸ and with a story to share.

llah y-3tik l'xir [thank you, when very grateful to somebody] to Ann Finnie.

ethereal box of randomness
personal portal
using the unfamiliar french/arabic keyboard at the cyber is too frustrating when i am in a rush; this personal portal to sites relating to morocco is proving to be a real time-saver.

1. I do not have my own postal box yet; am on a "waiting list" - right. The guy who handles the mail at the artisana and I are not the best of buddies; he goes through my mail and tells me which ones are important; almost as if he has already read my mail. If he was my hired administrative assistance, then he's doing a great job, and I'm ready to give him a salary increase, a promotion, the whole works. But he is not.
2. The post office seems always to be crowded with people inside and outside - unfortunately, there does not seem to be any opened windows in that crowded servicing room. The body odor (BO) level in that room can render a camel unconscious in seconds; I've learned to take deep breaths before going in and swallow air like a fish while visiting the post office. I'm sure all the postal workers think I have a breathing problem. They're right.
3. I'm pretty sure the CIA has more important data to collect and analyze than the price of a kilo of spicy olives or a personal terracotta tajine [traditional coned Berber oven] in Meknes; but who knows, maybe there is "chaos-theory" or "butterfly-effect" correlations between houseware, democracy and the price of a crude barrel of oil.
4. I bet it also has something to do with the fact that the Meknes region is known as the "wine-producing region" of Morocco. Though my town/province of Khemisset is part of the Rabat region, I am so glad to be close to Meknes; the country-side will look and smell just like Napa-Sonoma County of Northern California in the Summer/Fall.
5. Peace Corps is generous with the allotted time Volunteers are allowed to for out-of-site leaves; they just need to be approved prior to travel out of the assigned site. This is for Volunteer safety and security.
6. I'll put it in perspective: 100 business cards (four-colors, two-sided printing) cost 100dh (about US$10), and that's a bargain. 100dh can also buy you in Morocco: 10 bootleg DVDs (bet I saw "Narnia" and "Harry Potter: The Goblet of Fire" before you did) or 50 bootleg audio CDs (who wants to hear the latest Whitney Houston tracks?) or four rotisserie chicken meals (complete with fries and a salad) or 10 knock-off Nike ski-caps or 20 kilos (about 45lbs) of oranges or 25 pairs of heavy-duty wool socks or two nights at a 3-star hotel in Meknes or three litres of Meknes-produced red wine (nothing, nothing! beats Trader Joe's Two-Bucks Chuck) or 100 disks of large bread.
7. A legacy of the French occupation are the two types of taxis in Morocco: petite and grand. Petite taxis service riders within a town/city and a petite taxi's color is generally unique to that town: light blue in Meknes, bright orange in Khenifra, egg-shell white in Khemisset, lime green in Azrou, etc. Grand taxis service riders between towns/cities and the color is always a dull white. However, grand taxis do service riders within large towns (like Khemisset)/cities (like Meknes), and cost a fraction of petite taxis; only tourists and bourgeois Moroccans take petite taxis if grand taxis are available.
8. The next time a stranger, especially a foreigner, asks for directions, I will take my time to explain the easiest (not necessarily most direct) route to the destination.

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

Spring in Khemisset

2006-01-22T16:04:00.000Z

Though it rained non-stop for the last forty days and nights, requiring me to inquire about the possibility of when and where to embark on the Ark, the weather is starting to improve. Instead of snow in this part of the region of the Middle Atlas, I get plenty of rain here during the winter months. My homestay family says it will be like this for another month or so. When it is not raining and swiya [a bit/little] dry, I try to go on a long bike-ride to explore the country-side. It is far too cold to stay indoors this time of the year. Everything is so green and lush; indeed, spring is here.

The homestay family has been great; however, I can officially move out Feb 1 into my own dar [house/apartment]. In a fairly large town (as far as Peace Corps is concerned), I thought I would have the pick of the litter when it comes to housing¹; after a few weeks of looking at more than 25 housing options, here are the highlights:

option #1

option #2

option #3

option #4

option #5

the sheep slaughtering experience

option #6

Either I am not looking hard enough or my vocabulary is way off; most likely the latter. I am extending my homestay experience until I can find a dar that my homestay family won't laugh when inspecting it with me. Sorry, no pictures of these places ... am pretty sure I don't want to remember them.

Aside from the wild paperwhite narcissus, I have not a clue to the names of all the wild flowers and plants springing up in the country-side. Lacking any Berber folklore stories about the Rite of Spring, here is an abridged version from Greek mythology: the semi-annual visit from Persephone, Queen of the Underworld and Eternal Spring Daughter, to her mother Demeter, the Great Mother of the Harvest, brings about joy and happiness between Mother and Daughter, creating the seasons of Spring and Summer.

My bike rides into the country-side are done with some randomness. I am still in the exploratory stage and really don't know what will be around the next bend. As the months pass, I'm sure to find favorite spots² and will return often.

Stopped by a douar [small village, characterized by mud/clay baked homes, this one had brick buildings lining the main street] to get some water from the common well. I would have stopped by the farmhouse and Candyland (really an olive farm) for water, but "Keep Out" & "Trespassers Not Wanted" were clearly written all over these places.

Seems that some of the sheep managed to escape from Aid Kbir of last week, or maybe this Berber shepherdess and her family are vegetarians.

Sunset calls to prayer from the surrounding mosques helped me to keep a good pace as I furiously biked home at neck-breaking speed before the impending storm and darkness that evening.

Just so American tax-payers do not think I am here living the good life³, here is one of the multiple projects I have been working on. This draft-catalog⁴, still researching and writing textcopy as of this post, will target corporate buyers and wholesale/retail distributors. I hope to have this in a satisfactory condition in another few weeks; it will remain in English until my French and/or Arabic improves.

ethereal box of randomness
delivering a breached baby
logically, i know the steps to delivering a breached baby. on a cold, bored evening recently, i flipped though "where there is no doctor" and decided to read the chapter about delivering a breached baby.

1. Housing options are limited to the generous (by host-country standards) monthly rental allowance. I can deal with outdoor plumbing if necessary; I know I can make this work.
2. One of my favorite spots so far was discovered on the first bike ride into the country-side a few weeks ago.
3. Am cold because I am in the Middle Atlas without heat in the house, and with fun illnesses as traveler's sickness, pink eye, etc
4. My vision for this "brochure": change the focus of the sales brochure and add more content (text and images) so it can be a proper coffee-table book; however, that requires more than Monopoly money. Anyone got a contact at Simon & Schuster? No, I'm not kidding.

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

Aid Kbir: Sacrifice of the Sheep

2006-01-15T20:31:00.000Z

aid moubarak said! [loosely translated to "happy holiday"] & happy martin luther king, jr. day!
I realize that Aid Kbir¹ [Big Feast, Slaughter/Sacrifice of the Sheep] is the major religious holiday/event for Muslims; however, the wholesale slaughter of domestic animals is an event that I could neither fully experience, nor participate, with my host-family; however, I can appreciate the importance of the holy-day for Moslims. The neighborhood sheep and goats knew what was going to happen (my host-family bought our sheep a week prior) to them; they were bleating incessantly leading to the morning of January 11, 2006.

Thank goodness I cannot communicate with animals (it's a lie if heard otherwise); if you're a domestic animal, then Aid Kbir is a bad time for you². I have difficulty describing the ritualistic sacrificing of the sheep; the images do a better job than I ever will. I doubt if PETA would ever mount a campaign to end such a traditional activity.

Not sure how, but the caid [local authority] found me early in the week when I had not told anyone where I was going; he found me at the souk [weekly outdoor market]. We walked around and talked for a bit, then he asked me to come see him at his office when I was done browsing; I thought I was in big trouble. On the contrary, he just wanted to know how I was adjusting and to wish me a good Aid Kbir. He says to come see him if I ever have any trouble or need anything; it's nice that he speaks perfect English.

Here's something priceless: When I say I'm from California, I hear most Moroccans exclaim, "Lots of nice B!TCHES there!" After a short conversation, and with some context, I realize they are saying "BEACHES". The last time I misheard this came from a police man welcoming me to the station; I was on my way to meet the caid.

Timeline Snapshot: First Aid Kbir in Morocco, January 11, 2006

5:00AM

7:00AM

lftur

8:00AM

9:00AM

10:30AM

11:00AM

1:30PM

6:00PM

7:30PM

9:30PM

10:00PM

Sometime in the wee hours

⁴

Fellow Peace Corps Volunteers and I had conversation on the experience over text messaging⁵, edited for clarity (actual names have been changed/withheld for obvious reasons, re: safety/security):

Volunteer TT

"If you have to eat it, stick to the cheeks. They're safe, I think. They taste like regular meat." & "Our whole town smells like sheep. I think I have a meat hang-over."

Volunteer DM

"The brain tastes ok with a lot of bread. Chew fast. And remind yourself it's better then the stomach. I think everything is better than the stomach, even fetus, and that sh!t was beyond nasty." & "I ate an orange and I swear it tasted like meat. I think this holiday permanently messed up not only my taste buds but also sense of smell." & "I think we should develop a perfume called 'Sheep Smoke' or something. People here would buy it. Guaranteed." & "I think you'll have to ask your family to scrub down entire house to get rid of grilled sheep smell. I swear, even our walls smell like cooked meat."

Volunteer VS

"Ate veggies, no meat. Slept at family farm up the mountain. Very cold, no heat. Peed in moonlight. Woke-up early and read Cold Mountain by penlight. Home at noon. Made Salad. Yum!"

Volunteer LK

"Sick of picking bones out of my g.d. carrots!"

Volunteer EH

"We had it [sheep brain] for breakfast. Everything goes down with bread."

Volunteer MG

"Sheep is dead, blood has been spilt, pictures taken and vegetarianism renewed for me."

TAKE NOTE: IMAGES BELOW MAY BE DISTURBING DUE TO THEIR INTENSIVE, GRAPHICAL NATURE; THEY ARE THUMBNAILED WITH THE INTENTION TO BLUR DETAILS. HOWEVER, CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE FOR FULL EFFECTS.

The sacrificing begins ...

... steaming blood is pushed down the drain to flow in the streets below ...

... scorching & de-horning the head ...

... skinning the carcass ...

... disemboweling the carcass ...

... carcass ready for the feast.

Going for a walk in the country-side, I came upon a flock (or is it colony?) of nesting storks. These birds are huge, and getting too close to the nest ruffled their feathers. After taking a few pictures, I high-tailed it out of the area before the start of the aerial bombardments.

Included in this animal-focused post are the requested photoshopped spiders to compliment the other photoshopped spiders; the task of palette color-shift is not difficult, just time consuming.

ethereal box of randomness
contact established
i've decided to use the permanent/personal web address www.lamore.net for blogging.

1. According to the faith (Abraham sacrificing sheep instead of son Issac), Muslims are expected to sacrifice a sheep in the name of Allah; however, families sacrifice livestock according to what they can afford, ranging from chickens and rabbits to sheep and goats. The whole event is ritualistic, with blessed dagger, prayer, etc. Aid Kbir (and Ramadan) moves up 13 days every year; thus, operating on the Gregorian calendar puts two Aid Kbir in 2006. Morocco, as with all Moslim countries, uses both the Gregorian and Islamic calendars.
2. Just as if you are a turkey, then you probably do not want to get an invitation to Thanksgiving Dinner in the U.S.A. (unless it's to the Whitehouse).
3. Caught in the "excitement," did not realize the sacrificing of the sheep blocked the door/stairs; threw-up twice. when I was able to get down, I went to bed feeling ill (not sure when I stopped trembling).
4. I sense that many Moroccans have a fetish for Francis Bacon meat imageries.
5. Text messaging via phone is the most efficient way for Peace Corps Volunteers to communicate with each other and with the staff. Unfortunately, not all volunteer sites have mobile reseau [signal]; volunteers at these sites must travel for their telecommunications needs. The cost to text message is reasonable; thus, the only draw back on depending on the government-run telecommunications infrastructure is signal strength.

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco.islam

Directorial Debut

2006-01-08T16:21:00.000Z

Though I do not read much political or historical fictions, I chanced upon Paul Bowles' The Spider's House¹. The book was a compelling read² with its memorable characters and setting of Fez, Morocco circa 1950's; Morocco gained independence from France in 1955. As I read the book, I could not help but play casting agent for the main characters in my fantasy book-to-movie directorial debut:

John Stenham

Amar

Polly "Lee" Burroughs-Veyron

Moss

⁴

Some of the more interesting quotes/excerpts from Bowles' The Spider's House:

"Even the smallest measure of time is greater than the greatest measure of space."
"'But suppose you were sick .. and your wife had to go out and get medicine or help for you?' 'At night, alone? Never!' 'But if she did?' 'Then she would run the risk of being killed, and it would serve her right.'" [conversation between Stenham and a local]
"'They say you can't tell any man that you don't find him sexually attractive, that a woman's whole success in life is based on the principle of making every man feel that given the right circumstances she'd rush to bed with him. But I think there must be a few men bright enough to hear the news without going into a fit of depression. Don't you think so?'"⁵
"'Your venom isn't really insulting, you know,' she told him. 'It has no focus. If you really want to be really nasty, at least you've got to be conscious of the other person.'"
"For Polly Burroughs had the makings of a good journalist. She believed that, assuming one had open eyes and an open mind, one needed only to be on the spot in order to capture the truth. If anyone had discussed it with her, she would have maintained that a photograph was nearer to reality than a painting, because it was objective."
"The intellect is the soul's pimp."
"Moroccans were much like anyone else, and very little of value would be lost in the destruction of their present culture, because its design would be worth less than the sum of the individuals who composed it -- the same as in any Western country."
"He [Amar] could not choose sides because the part of his consciousness which dealt with the choosing of sides had long ago been paralyzed by having chosen that which was designed to suspend all possibility of choice. And that was perhaps fortunate, he told himself, because it enabled him to remain at a distance from both evils, and thus to keep in mind the fact of the evil."
"Any kind of change in their rhythm disoriented the people, because their lives were entirely a matter of rhythmic repetition, and failure to observe a prescribed ritual brought its own terrible psychological consequences, for then the people felt they were no longer in Allah's grace, and if they felt that, very little mattered to them -- they would do whatever was suggested to them."
"The concept of independence was easily confused with that of social equity."

As long as I am casting for the roles, I might as well share the list of those who did not get an invitation to the audition couch in this wishful movie, including: the Olsen twins, Lindsay Lohan, Ben Aflleck (but Jennifer Lopez and Jennifer Gardner can have cameo appearances as tourists), Matt Damon, Eminem (too angry), Mark Wahlberg (sorry Marky Mark, but your CK days are O-V-E-R), Jud Law (nanny not allowed on-set), Julia Roberts (has she done anything lately?), Jessica Simpson (acting talents required in this movie), Catherine Zeta-Jones (sorry, am not slinging telecom ads here) and Angelina Jolie⁶.

On with our featured presentation ...

I must have been very good last year, as Papa Noel surprised me with a present early this week: I now have a bike! I got a call from the Peace Corps/Morocco office telling me to go to the maHatta dyal tobisat [bus station] and sign for a package; there was no additional details and I did not think to ask. On arrival, I told the guy at the CTM⁷ counter that I was expecting a package. After showing my passport, he signaled me to come into the storage room. I was thrilled to have received my bike (and helmet⁸) because I wanted to explore more of the town but was limited due to the size of the town (a big site is not a bad thing, mind you).

As I road outside of town, I noticed the red- and pink-coloured⁹ homes on the outskirt of Khemisset. I had not noticed this until now; my attention was probably focused elsewhere. I want to wander this neighborhood some other time.

Riding not too far outside of Khemisset's medina [city center], I came upon a graveyard. This is possibly a non-Moslem graveyard, as some of the headstones had non-Moslem names; however, all inscriptions were in both Arabic scripts and Roman letters.

A bike affords more freedom to see more of my site and the surrounding areas. Biking due east on a major road, I came upon a magnificent view of the Middle Atlas mountains; I decided to have a picnic of Sidi Ali-brand¹⁰ l'mar [water], khobz [bread] and zitoon [olives].

1. This is not a book report; I enjoy doing book reports as much as squeezing lemons on paper-cuts. English-language books are rare in Morocco; thus, they circulate within the volunteer community with gusto.
2. Parts of the book reads like a cheesy, poorly-written Danielle Steel romantic novel as it hints at the attraction between Stenham and Burroughs-Veyron. Take these excerpts for examples:

"Even in the half-light, they were visible, the smears of red paints that whores and Nazarene women used on their lips, and the flower smell came up in a heavy invisible cloud from the bed."
"And now, when she saw his smile, she knew in a flash what had changed; she knew that even though she still thought that smile faintly fatuous, it did not repel her. With her gesture of hostility she had brought herself within his orbit."
"And anyway, she thought, as she felt his hands moving softly along her flesh (as if she were a tree and they were the tendrils of a creeping parasitic plant), what sort of man was it who would take such a blatantly unfair advantage?"
"It was as if the night, in her death agony, were making a final, desperate effort to assert herself by creating as much darkness as she could."

3. The "Malcolm In The Middle" star would need to pick up Darija [Moroccan Arabic] to pull this one off. I give up, I could not think of any young actor (and it has to be a male actor to pull this character off due to the complexity of Moroccan culture and Islamic faith) to play this character .. suggestions?
4. Moss is a male character in the book, but is not necessary for my movie.
5. I can see Kidman delivering this line - oh wait, wasn't this the line that caused the divorce from Tom?
6. Rumour has it that the Jolie-Pitt love-child is on its way.
7. CTM is a government-run bus and shipping system within Morocco. Though the CTM bus does not pick up people in my town, there is a service counter for shipping and receiving goods.
8. Wearing a helmet while on a bike is mandatory; a matter of fact, this is one of six policies that can get a volunteer sent home if not observed. For the record, I choose neither the colour of the bike nor helm. Since wearing the helm is mandatory, I stand out like a sore thumb when biking around town (I have yet to come across anyone, except a Peace Corps Volunteer, using a helmet in Morocco); at least the hot pepper coloured bike draws fire away from the fact that I am wearing the teal-coloured helm; the colour of the helm matches the colour of the handle-bars, at least someone at the Peace Corps/Morocco office has a sense of style. The helm is really not fashionable, but is needed in a town where cars, mopeds/scooters, grand/petite taxis, intercity/village/souk buses, donkeys, horse-drawn carriages and pedestrians share the roads; I have yet to see camels in Khemisset.
9. My site covers a large area, and I can be outside of the main town and still have not broken the "Out-of-Site" policy. This is neither a trickery of Photoshop nor the effects of the long-shadowed winter sun.
10. Not that anyone care, but I found out recently that Pepsi bottles and markets this water.

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

Reflections Upon Reflections

2006-01-02T16:00:00.000Z

The first 100 days in Morocco, celebrated on Dec 21st, were strewed with explorations, revelations and discoveries, including:

fasting 25 of the 30 days of Ramadan
eating more than ten breakfasts for Aid Segir [little feast]
going on a field-trip to Morocco's sub-Saharan "Dirty South"²
devising strategies to stay clean when bathing is possible only once a week
being scrubbed from head to toes at the hemman [public bathhouse] by both host -dad and -brother at the same time⁷
knowing that when it is cold outside, it is COLDER inside³
using the Turkish toilette is, indeed, more ergonomically than the Western-style toilette
reading the paper is difficult while using the Turkish, unless you have the balance prowess of a Cirque du Soleil performer
wearing a djallaba [hooded overall] inside the house, outside around town, to bed, to work, etc. for several continuous days is acceptable; the bonus round: the hood doubles as a pocket for books, snacks, etc.
turning on the lights and having one's name yelled is a common way to get woken up in a Berber family
waking up to the surprise of electricity-free days is a gift; they are the only days I am allowed to sleep pass 8:00AM
peppering conversation with Allah phrases win cultural points for non-Moslims⁴
naming livestock is not encouraged as they are just temporary pets until the next meal
burning trash is better for the environment than hauling it to the dumpster where it does not break down due to lack of oxygen and sunlight
coming home from the cyber to find the host-family "asleep" AND the carbon monoxide detector warning of dangers
slinging spa-quality mud at the neighborhood kids is ok, they deserve it⁵

However, 2005 can be summed up as the year of ...

rebirth

excitement

sadness

cleansing

healing

... it was the year that everything changed.

This post is dedicated to frankysbride who sent me a surprise Christmas/Holiday Greeting card (right); though post-marked Dec 5, I got it on Dec 29. I understand other cards were sent, but the mail system can be a bit slow. Thank you to everyone for their emails and text messages of well-wishes and holiday cheers in recent weeks; I have yet to suffer from the effects of homesickness.

The New Year weekend was spent with Volunteers VS¹ and EH¹ in Khenifra (in the Middle Atlas mountains). Though the visit was short, we had a great time with the host-family.

The drive to Khenifra, along the Middle Atlas mountains, was beautiful.

Papa Noel does stop by Morocco! However, due to his exhausting trip to visit children the world over on Dec 25⁶, he traditionally stops off in Morocco on Dec 31.

L'Aid Kibir [Big Feast Festival, Sacrifice/Slaughter of the Sheep] starts Jan 10 or so, and many people were out buying their sheep. As EH, VS, and I passed a livestock truck, we could not help but sympathize with them. Click here for a close-up.

We wandered into Khenifra's world-renowned carpet souk.

Making my way from Khenifra to Khemisset, the bus had a flat tire just after leaving the town of Azrou. While waiting for a spare tire to be driven to us, I took a short hike and came upon this shepherd and his flock. Cultural observation: most of the men stood smoking near the bus and the women sat quietly inside the bus.

1 actual names have been changed/withheld for obvious reasons (re: safety/security)
2 it is called the "Dirty South" because of the high prostitution population in the region; though I am reminded that there are prostitutes all over Morocco.
3 this is taken directly from Peace Corps Volunteer SAJ's own list of experience in Morocco.
4 there are phrases for daily and special occasions, including birth, circumcision, death, sickness, traveling, begging, wedding, etc.
5 this is too long of a story to go into here.
6 Kallun reminds us that Santa Clause exists outside the realm of Newtonian and Einsteinian physics
7 for those who asked about the hemman experience, practice patience .. I am on email back-log .. I have neither forgotten nor ignored your emails and questions.

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

Personal Portal: Morocco

2006-01-01T01:10:00.000Z

Blogging purist will surely not be happy with this "post" ... because, as a personal portal, it is actually an extension to the sidebar; thus, it is not a typical blog posting. This is a personal portal to resources relating to Morocco and is subject to updating without prior notice. Unless noted, all links lead to English-language, Morocco-specific content sites. This is a personal portal where update, broken, quality, etc. of links and content may suffer due to electricity-free days, traveling, flooding, lack of inspiration, weakness from fasting, slaughtering of sheep, monthly living allowance utterly spent at the souk, etc. The link to this personal portal is 'morocco.lamore.net' .. it is written.

Facts, Figures & Organizations of Interest
Media & News Aggregators
Culture/Faith of Islam & Holidays/Events
Travel & Tour Guides
Keeping In Touch
Food, Drinks & Recipes
Text Messages Worth Saving
Places I've Visited (a laundry list)

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Facts, Figures & Organizations of Interest
Kingdom of Morocco | CIA Factbook on Morocco | U.S. Embassy, Rabat | U.S. Department of State
Morocco & the European Union | US-Morocco Free Trade Agreement (FTA) | MEDEA (European Institute for Research on Mediterranean and Euro-Arab Cooperation) | World Bank | Virtual Souk | high atlas foundation

Peace Corps | National Peace Corps Association | Friends of Morocco

Yahoo Groups: Peace Corps Morocco

Currency Converter | Metric Converter | Time Zones

Media & News Aggregators
Al-Jazeera | VOA (Voice of America)
Morocco Times | Morocco Daily | AllAfrica | Islamic World

Culture/Faith of Islam & Holidays/Events

Culture/Faith of Islam: Pillars of Islam | Islam in America | Isam-USA

Holidays/Events: Moroccan holidays are based on the Islamic calendar (lunar cycle), and dates change year-to-year.
Holiday Calendar, 2002-2008 | U.S. & Moroccan Holidays | Moon Sightings

Moroccan Holidays in 2006

January 11-12: Aid Al Adha/Aid Kbir

~~Jan 31: Fatih Moharam [New Year]~~

April

May

August

October

November

December

Travel & Tour Guides
Morocco (Ministry of Tourism) | Time Zones
Lonely Planet | Fodor's | AfricaGuide

Call for road conditions in Morocco: 037 71 17 17

Fees for local transportation greatly depend on knowledge of the rider.

Keeping in touch
Many options exist to keep in touch with friends and family; take into consideration time zone differences during real-time conversations. Choosing a specific service/vendor is a personal choice.

Chat/Internet Messaging Services: real-time chat; most IM services only allow customers to chat with customers within their service, i.e. Hotmail users cannot chat with non-Hotmail users. Download separate IM software for each IM service.

Yahoo!

ICQ

Jabber Instant Messaging

AIM

Microsoft MSN/Hotmail

Trillian

Emails: sign-up for free email accounts. What to keep in mind: size of free storage, SPAM filtering, privacy statement, etc.

Internet Telephony/Phones: VoIP [Voice over IP] technology has improved vastly, allowing for real-time conversations over the Internet at a fraction of the cost of landline phone calls; calls between computers are generally free and calls from computer to mobile/landline phones are affordable.

Mail/Post: check with the local post office for tariffs and shipping restrictions (food, guns, sea-monkeys, etc).

U.S. Postal Services

U.K. Postal Services

Australia Postal Services

Express Services: There are many to choose from; I have seen delivery trucks in large cities from these couriers. Be careful shipping by express couriers, because packages can be held up due to customs and Volunteers may need to travel to the airport to pay for tariffs.

Fed-Ex

UPS

DHL

Fax via the Web: a free service that allows faxing to almost any fax machine from the Web

The Phone Company

Food, Drinks & Recipes
Kingdom of Morocco (30 recipes considered traditional) | more traditional Moroccan recipes | Jewish Globe (some good recipes) | Moroccan kitchen (an introduction to spices and tastes in a Moroccan kitchen) | Imperial Fez | Tajines (a site to sell tajine pots, but has some free recipes)

Text Messages Worth Saving
Though text messages appear in posts with some randomness, this is a collection of text messages that are worth remembering; edited for clarity and/or language. ©

"OK, this is rigoddamndiculous. Tutor worried about the crazy lady starting rumours. Wants to have class at coop only instead of at family's house. He told me to hate the lady who called me pregnant, and never be alone with her because she might drug my tea and rob me! I have to say it again: rigoddamndiculous!"

"I've done a bad thing; was looking at stork nests with my binoculars; neighbors saw me, [now] they all want to use them to spy on village. Neighbors looking at kids getting off bus said, 'I want to see who so and so is talking to' and another neighbor looking at next villager said, 'Who's that going into so and so's house!' Let the gossips begin."

"Just sat through all-day workshop in Arabic -- we splint into groups, wrote our names on paper-tents, used flipcharts, and even learned SWOT [Strengths, Weaknesses, Opportunities, Threats]! It was like I was back in the States, except we started an hour late and I hardly understood a thing."

Volunteer MG

"I hate it when people try and joke with me. Like I barely understand anything so how am I suppose to understand even that they are joking?"

"OK, I need to vent. I just tried to convince neighbors that I'm American, they argued I was either French or Spanish. This morning I was called Moroccan. Why's it so hard to believe I'm American and it's a diverse country? Wait, maybe I shouldn't answer that question in a bad mood ... "

"Got pulled out of hang-out time with artisans to sit in the non-working artisana complex to wait for the delegate. Been here three hours without sign [of his arrival]. "

"Stay away from fish; you'll either get sick or choke on a bone."

"My carte de sejour battle thwarted by stupidity. I'm gonna be stuck here forever."

"Coop 'cleaning' - they're actually just dumping trash behind a bush, sigh. Family thought I was weird for putting trash in a bag and throwing it away when I go someplace with trash service!"

"I think you need a vacation, come visit next weekend."

"Lets play a game of 'Is This Safe?' Family puts butagaz tank next to furnace. We should take pictures of all the insane safety risks and have session on it at the next IST [In-Service Training]. Tired of dodging flaming logs falling out of furnace."

"Well if by party you mean meeting me in Fes and helping me get everything I need, it's up to you."

"Gold Teeth! That's stylin! I gotta get some blings for my grill, too."

"Oh, I had no idea it's a holiday today [Feb 8], was walking out the door when host mom asked me what I was doing. It's Aid Ashoura!"

"Chilling in new dar [house]. Have just small butagaz, 1 light. Had fantabulous bucket shower. Now eating mac 'n cheese, sadly very bland after past months :-( Happy, though."

"I need a name! ~~What high maintenance idiot managed that much rent, and how much ass had to be kissed?!?~~ Doesn't he know we're in the Peace Corps? I'm just happy to have running water, I think a daily bath is way too much to ask here."

"Moved today. Alone for first time 10 minutes ago and phone rang!"

"Been moving a cup at a time. Tonight is the first night to sleep here. Sad to leave family, but [my house is] very close to them. ~~Wanted a glass of wine and~~ have dishes to wash."

"Leaks are fun. Gives you something else to do with all those hemmem [public bath] buckets."

"How about this: write 'cool dude' in Arabic letters, it sounds exactly 'cool dude' but means 'eat worm' hahahaha! Found that one out by mistake the other day :-) "

"Fes was nice, bought a vacuum cleaner from Marjane."

"For some reason, I never thought I'd be shoveling snow for the first time in my life in Morocco."

"I'm snowed in. Don't expect sympathy."

"Hey! How'd you know I was pricing donkeys at the souq today?"

"hmm, I just helped skin a rabbit. 10 minutes ago, it was a fluffy bunny. Will I ever stop feeling queasy? I should have run screaming from the kitchen."

"How sad is it that I've been sneaking around the house for half an hour trying to acquire a bowl of hot water so that I can sneak it into my room and make myself ramen noodle soup? What has my life become? Victory is mine and ramen never tasted so good!"

Volunteer SAJ

"Is burlap warm to wear? I think I saw some at the souq ..."

"Just saw a white girl in my town, did a total whip around. LOL. Should've talked to her, but was trying to get home before dark."

"Hanging curtains in co-op. That means hammering nail through curtain and wall with a big rock. Why waste money on a hammer, or a ladder when rocks and rickety plastic stools are around?"

"So we got butagaz heater at coop, and I saw waves of gas coming off it, but I don/t know if I was too cold to move or if fumes affected my decision to stay."

"OMG. You know they use butagaz in that cave. How the hell do they ventilate?!?"

"My old site was a cave. It's so quiet here today! I'm worried. Hope there's not a coup planned."

"Is it good to be woken up by host family at 7:30am and ask yourself ... ~~where is my vodka?~~ I think I want to move into my house now. No dar for you, yet? I'd hang myself!"

Volunteer SAJ

"Have same problem here. All food now cooked in meat and fat. ~~Got bad D so ate rice for three days.~~ Host family says to stay til I find my own apartment."

"Not even close to having a house; guess I'll try and go another round with the host family."

"Please tell me there are vegetables in this country. It's been sooo long since I've seen any. The coop here is opened (yeah, no snow!) but the parade of meat continues."

"You know your Arabic is improving when you can understand the Arabic spoken in 'The Mummy Returns'! LOL"

"Sounds more productive than me - somehow ended up helping girl look for men on Internet dating sites. Note sure how to get out of it - very weird."

Volunteer MG

"Man, I miss work. I'm snowed in, coop closed."

"One of my sisters gave me a word for 'tail'. Apparently the way I said it is a bad word for penis. I found out when practicing words with whole family who all fell over laughing."

"With happiness, wealth, prosperity, ..."

Places I've Visited
Morocco is divided into 37 provinces and 2 wilayas: Agadir, Al Hoceima, Azilal, Beni Mellal, Ben Slimane, Boulemane, Casablanca, Chaouen, El Jadida, El Kelaa des Sraghna, Er Rachidia, Essaouira, Fes, Figuig, Guelmim, Ifrane, Kenitra, Khemisset, Khenifra, Khouribga, Laayoune, Larache, Marrakech, Meknes, Nador, Ouarzazate, Oujda, Rabat-Sale, Safi, Settat, Sidi Kacem, Tanger, Tan-Tan, Taounate, Taroudannt, Tata, Taza, Tetouan, Tiznit; three additional provinces of Ad Dakhla (Oued Eddahab), Boujdour, and Es Smara as well as parts of Tan-Tan and Laayoune fall within Moroccan-claimed Western Sahara.

As part of a 1997 decentralization/regionalization law passed by the legislature 16 new regions were created although full details and scope of the reorganization are limited (capitals in parentheses). A travel goal within my two-year service is to visit all 16 regions in Morocco; I will unstrike regions as I visit cities, towns and douars of the region.

Casablanca

Chaouia-Ourdigha (Settat)

Doukkala-Abda (Safi)

Fès-Boulmane

Gharb-Chrarda-Béni Hssen (Kénitra)

Guelmim-Es Smara (Guelmim)

Laâyoune-Boujdour-Sakia El Hamra (Laâyoune)

Marrakech-Tensift-El Haouz (Marrakesh)

Meknès-Tafilalet

Oriental (Oujda)

Oued Eddahab-Lagouira (Dakhla)

Rabat-Sale-Zemmour-Zaer

Souss-Massa-Draâ

~~(Agadir)~~

~~Tadla-Azilal~~

~~(Béni Mellal)~~

Tangier-Tétouan (Tanger)

Taza-Al Hoceima-Taounate (Al Hoceima)

McHappy in Morocco

2005-12-26T22:01:00.000Z

Christmas weekend was much better than I had expected or hoped for. I had planned on hanging out with the home-stay family and reflecting on the first 100 days in Morocco (Dec 21!). One evening a couple of weeks ago, I explained to the home-stay family the joys of Christmas (I stayed away from the religious side) back home; after an hour of using my limited darija [Moroccan Arabic], showing pictures of family and friends from yesteryear Christmases, pantomiming happiness and drawing Santa, elves, and flying reindeer, they gave the polite smile-and-nod (I'm all too familiar with the smile-and-nod strategy of the dis-interested) before going back to Egyptian soap operas. I thought to myself: there will be no Christmas for Nam this year.

This all changed when I got a text message from volunteer DM* regarding holiday plans. Apparently, I did not read the travel policy closely and, thus, was not clear that I could travel (albeit, limited) on weekends** during the probation period. Thus, reflectioning on those first 100 days in Morocco will have to wait another time.

Keeping in mind that the exchange rate is something like US$1 = 9dh (dirham)***:

Christmas with friends in Meknes .. PRICELESS

This post is dedicated to Peace Corps volunteers/friends LS* who was thoughtful enough to bring Moroccan bling-blings (wrapped in Newsweek articles with duct-tape, very resourceful) for all of us, KW* who brought some delicious baked goods to complete a holiday gathering, DM* who informed me about the Christmas weekend retreat to Meknes, JK* who has the spirit of a young Foxy Brown and LS* who took a cold shower because she did not realized that you can get hot water at the hotel. Thanks for making the first Christmas in Morocco an amazing experience.

Meknes, like most large Moroccan cities, is actually a medieval city with many intact walls. The outer wall near the bus station is Bab el Khemism [the Fifth Gate]; walking through that brought me into the old Jewish quarters. Hugging the walls leading into the medina are many fruit stand vendors. This man is just standing there looking annoyed for no reason, but after I noticed the mosaic background I decided to take a picture with him in it anyway. A second after I took the picture, he perked up .. but my interest in taking another picture of him vanished so I continued on my merry way.

Making my way to the hotel meeting point, I walked up the main drag of Avenue Moulay Ismail and came upon the impressive Bab Mansour****; flaking it are two square bastions. According to my guide book, "Though remarkable for its size and symmetry, like much of [Moulay] Ismail's grand vision it proves overpowering and heavy." I miss reading my over-sized art history books!

Hotel Maroc (Maghreb) is close to the old medina and offered comfortable, yet spartan, rooms. The hotel is centrally located, and we were able to have hot showers. Since I had not showered for a week (bucket-baths and wipe-downs just do not count) it was important that I freshened up immediately.

After a lazy, non-martini lunch, we were all very excited to go to the Marjane supermarche . This is the equivalent of a Wal-Mart back home (if you do not know what Wal-Mart is, count yourself among the lucky ones). There were aisles and choices -- foreign concepts to hanuts [shops] of smaller towns and villages -- thus, a need for shopping carts. Our excitement could not be contained as we criss-crossed the store over and over, showing each other "discoveries" of things we thought we would not see again for two years! I considered buying potting soil and bulbs for a spring planning; my home-stay family would have laughed themselves silly if they knew that I was considering buying dirt! I bought things more practical: musli, hot chocolate powder (a big hit with the home-stay family) and coloring pencils. Some of us got gelatos on the way out; two scoops for 10dh. We were overwhelmed with contentment.

We had Christmas Eve Dinner (CED) at a swanky restaurant located in the new medina. Not sure why, but we were surprised to see holiday decorations and a Christmas tree! After dinner we found a club/bar that did not scare us. We had fun before we had to be back to the hotel for the 1:00am curfew (not a big deal, we were all ready to crash and sleep in).

For Christmas Day Breakfast (CDB), we decided to give ourselves a treat and headed off to McDonald's (we could see the Golden Arches from the hotel's roof). I ordered what I always ordered States-side: a Happy Meal with a toy.

Volunteer JK* ordering her McMeal would have gone un-noticed if not for the double-take of a McArabia! None of us ordered this new gimmick, so we're not sure what it actually is .. my bet is that it's a lamb patty with salted-greens between cumin-flavored khobz [course bread]. What new marketing plans are planned at McDonald's or Burger King for the coming year?

As I was with five female volunteers, it was a consensus to go shopping; shopping on Christmas Day is a ritual back home, so I welcomed the shopping spree in the medina. Leather handbags are awesome here. The leather man-bags (not pictured) looked stylishly European, but not sure how fashionable they are in Anytown, USA. We wondered through the old medina for a bit before finding a pseudo-tourist cafe; women are generally not seen at cafes unless they are tourists or the cafe caters to tourists.

During the shopping, I considered paying a dirham for a drink from one of the men selling water.

Since we all had to be back at our sites before dark, the others took off for the bus station while I continued to meander through the old medina for a few more hours. The best find, though I did not make a purchase, was this naked Barbie doll among Fifth Avenue-faux shoes. I'm not entirely sure of the marketing messages here, but it certainly got my attention.

* actual names have been changed/withheld for obvious reasons (re: safety/security)
** I have got to read the policy manual in details for what else I'm missing; hope winning sweepstake numbers are not buried in there somewhere!
*** this universal, up-to-date currency converter is practical for jet-setters and budget-travellers alike.
**** I have no idea who the tourists are; such hshuma [shame] for the guy to wear shorts!

tags: peace corps.africa.morocco

That Time of Year

2005-12-19T19:12:00.000Z

Thank you to Kallun for whipping up a counting script -- near the top it now says how long I have been in Morocco -- who says there's no Santa? Bah Humbug!

HAPPY HOLIDAYS, Y'ALL!

Since Christmas is not celebrated in Morocco**, I really did not have any appropriate pictures to post. I would love to claim this picture of me on a recent fantastic holiday get-away beach like Agadir or Tanger; however, it is not. This is a picture from March '04 (that's such a distance memory away!) when I was in San Diego with SC*; this is the same friend who, earlier this year, sold her home that is the historical-literary-birthplace of poet laureate Ted Hughes.

The spirit of Christmas commercialism has not completely escaped this Moroccan street vendor.

This is a typical scene of electrical outlet abuse .. whether in the U.S. or Morocco, this is an electrical fire hazard waiting to happen. Though this is not lighting up a Christmas tree, chances are the outlet for your tree is overworked, too.

Though I have not been to all the hanuts [stores] in Morocco, I have yet to see white-shelled eggs. I got to think about this because the host-family asked me about major holidays in America. This got me thinking about eggnought .. thus, leading me to the incredible, edible egg. How strange the mind works. The universe works in stranger ways.

Peace Corps Volunteer TT* and her friend PC* came to visit (yeah! my first visitors) Khemisset. They had been to Khemisset before, about a year ago, and, as we walked through familiar territories, they talked like real estate agents .. commenting on all the new constructions, where the best places to eat/shop are, etc. We took a walk through the park (locals refer to the park as a zoo because there are cages of monkeys and birds) before they caught a grand taxi home at sunset.

I spend much time on the roof-top. Such vantage offers glimpses of life's everyday activities .. including this scene of an expert "roller" directly below.

A couple of weeks ago, I picked olives at the family's olive farm. This past weekend, I continued to help process the olives to get the sort-after-scientifically-proven-beneficial olive oil. A liter of first-, cold-pressed olive oil costs about 40dh (roughly US$4). At this very reasonable price, I'm gonna wash my hair with it once a week!

While on a walk about town, I stopped by to talk with an upholsterer***. He brought out many fabric samples to show me what is possible. When I rent my own place, I'll go to him to make my pillows and ponches [Moroccan sofas].

* actual names have been changed/withheld for obvious reasons (re: safety/security)
** well, at least not in Khemisset
*** this doesn't look right, but am told it is correct.

tags: peace corps.travel.morocco

Make Mine Khemisset!

2005-12-12T21:38:00.000Z

In the post "The Assignment," I promised more information about my assigned site to follow .. well, that time is now. Here's what I know about my assigned site, and hope that future travel guides (ie Lonely Planet, Fodor's, Rough Guides Travel, etc) will include: Khemisset, Morocco.

Province: Khemisset [it is the name of both the province and the town], located at the northern tip of the Middle Atlas region
Population: about 110,000
Weather: mild winters (no snow, like some other Northern regions), temperate summers (not the 130F in the shade, like Southern regions)
Dominant Languages: Darija [Moroccan Arabic] and Tamazight [one of three Berber dialects]; French is spoken throughout Morocco.
Cooperatives/Artisans: Wood-carvers, metal-workers, rug/carpet weavers, embroiderers, tile-makers
Local Authorities: both police [authority for towns/cities] and gendarme [authorities for the surrounding rural villages]
Communications: good cell phone coverage and plenty of teleboutiques.
Cyber/Internet Cafes: scattered throughout the town
Transportation: bus, grand taxi (between towns), petite taxi (within town), etc. No train/airport
Weekly Market (Souq*): every Mondays and Tuesdays (known for Berber carpets).
Healthcare: two hospitals, and multiple pharmacies in each neighborhood
Tourism: Khemisset is on the tourist triangle***, consisting of Rabat, Meknes and Fes.

sidebar:
Pointed out by fellow Peace Corps/Morocco volunteers that I was "Most Likely to Give a Corporate Marketing Presentation to Berber Villagers"

Note: actual names have been changed/withheld for obvious reasons (re: safety/security)

December is World AIDS (SIDA) Awareness Month**. As I'm always interested in AIDS-awareness campaigns, I noticed this billboard. Oddly, the only other billboard I saw in Khemisset is the one of the current and progressive Moroccan monarch, King Mohammed VI.

My host-family took me on a hike yesterday [Dec 11] to their zitoon [olive] farm. We spent most of the mid-morning picking olives off and around the trees. We spent the afternoon sorting olives according to ripeness**** before laboriously preparing them for zit [oil] extraction (green/red) or curing (black). The family donkey was a great help when it came to hauling the olives to the mill. At one point olive oil covered us just like Lucy and Ethel in the grape-stomping "I Love Lucy" episode.

Though I have seen drying machines (for clothes) only in stores in the big cities (Fes, Rabat), it seems like every rooftop has drying-lines. There are even communal drying-lines in most communities.

This is the handy indoor plumbing work of my host-brother. I asked him if he was going to patch up the wall after the work is completed, and he just gave me a puzzled look.

I think this is my first post of a Moroccan sunset .. looks just like a sunset over a groove of eukalyptus trees in Golden Gate Park. All my sunset pictures with a mosque silloqett do not look that impressive .. mostly cuz I've not taken the time to take a decent picture.

Though I see sheep and goats crossing town streets daily, I am still amaze there are not more road-kills. L3id kibera [big feast] is the most important religious holi-day in the Islamic calendar. I don't know much about this important day, but it has to do with slaughtering of sheep .. am told that, starting in three weeks, most households will keep a live (live!) sheep roof-top for a few days before mass-slaughtering .. am stocking up on ear-plugs and pepto for silencing of the lambs.

Other sheep-related sighting is this wool-dying operation on the roof-top of a rural neighborhood .. one of the five wood-carving cooperatives is located here, so I come to this part of town a couple of days a week.

I have just started a "photo shoot" of some of the wood-carver crafts. I decided to take these pictures now for future projects .. stay tuned.

I am currently working with five wood-carver cooperatives in the Khemisset Province. There are three cooperatives within the city limit that I visit almost on a daily basis; however, I need to get travel approval (not a problem) to visit the other two cooperatives. Khemisset is actually known for the rug/carpet cooperatives, and I hope to eventually work with these and other artisan cooperatives (such as metal and other textiles). I know I should not have "favorites," but the artisan I enjoy working with is CIMG2977 & CIMG2978; he's so great to work with because he has infinite patience and forgiveness when I try to speak darija [Moroccan Arabic] with him. He understands English perfectly.

Peace Corps volunteer SF suggested that I submit some of the photos to the next "Sports Illustrated" swim-suit issue. I think not, but I might make a "Wood-Carvers of Khemisset" 2006 calendar!

* the souq is an outdoor market that can start as early as 3:00am. Don't click on the following link unless you have a strong stomach; while having lunch at the souq, I sat next to this carved sheep. My host-father explained that the testicles are left hanging to let lunch-goers know that it is a male animal. Am told that Khemisset hosts the largest souq in all of Morocco; I heard it, so it must be true.
** maybe it's just Dec 1 .. not sure as I'm so clueless at the moment; I'm not flooded with AIDS-awareness messages as I would be if I were in San Francisco/Bay Area.
*** it's more like a tourist crooked-line route, but everyone here seems to describe this route as a "tourist triangle".
**** green is unripe, red is just ripening and black is most ripe.

tags: peace corps.travel.morocco

Crossing the Line

2005-12-05T18:34:00.000Z

The last few weeks have been just as trying for me as for Lazarus upon resurrection .. I have crossed the line from every-day-citizen to Peace Corps Volunteer. To have come this far, I have had to deal with a personal miracle-of-a-sort in the thick of language proficiency exam, another major holiday (a month ago, Holloween just "happened" and, now, Thanksgiving Dinner**), swearing-in ceremony, making my way back to my assigned site, etc.

One strategy I use to manage stress is cooking. The host-family (and relatives) have been treated to: brownies (a big hit that has been made three times already), chicken stir-fry with peanuts, apple-chicken salad, lavender cookies (lavender is not in culinary use in Morocco), bread pudding (since bread is considered holy, it is rarely tossed out; hence, lots of stale bread available), and (excellent!) onion soup a-la-frankysbride.

This post is dedicated to PCV (Peace Corps Volunteer) JP*.

The swearing-in ceremony was a moment I will never forget .. friend and confidant JP* gave a speech that represented the trainees-to-be-volunteers in the Small Business Development sector. Her speech was given entirely in Berber dialect Tamazight without faltering. The welly [mayor] of Fez was impressed with her language proficiency and, I'm pretty sure he (and most in the audience), was unaware that JP had been learning Tamazight only for the last three months. Her very sophisticated and appropriate speech brought the audience to a standing ovation; sadly, I do not have an audio copy of the speech to share. Here are two pictures of JP in "action" and at "rest").

What's a Peace Corps Swearing-in Ceremony without a group picture to share .. spotting me in the group wins you a delicious Moroccan meal of home-made tajine, complete with much-too-sweet mint tea.***

From the top-view of the swearing-in ceremony hotel in Fez, who would have guessed it was autumn?

Here is SF* just after the swearing-in ceremony with her host-sisters.

Taking the opportunity for a social mix, some of us got together the night of swearing-in to share our hopes and expectations awaiting our lives as volunteers. Friend and confidant SF* was sharing with us the prowess of her windpipes. Clearly (clearly) she is no
stranger to the hookah****.

Here I am with JP's* host-mom. Trying on that Berber coat nearly broke my back!

Like most large cities in Morocco, Fez has an old and a new city. This view of the old city is seen from the hotel's balcony.

I took a quick walk around Immouzer (was training site for another Peace Corps/Morocco sector). The French's influence on Moroccan culture is obvious in this town's architecture.

I had to make it back to my assigned site, Khemisset, by any means possible. An option was this made-in-Sweden mule-drawn wagon (click on the image to see what I mean). I optioned for a less exotic method to make it back to town before the "no-night travel" policy.

* actual names have been changed/withheld for obvious reasons (re: safety/security)
** we did have a very good Thanksgiving Dinner; click here if you want to see the headless turkeys.
*** on the condition that you must collect the prize in-person in Khemisset, Morocco before Dec 2007.
**** actually, I don't know this for sure.

tags: peace corps.peace-corps.morocco

Credit Where Due

2005-11-13T00:03:00.000Z

I have been in Morocco for exactly (exactly!) two months, and this is what I am thinking about to celebrate this amazing journey ... the need to acknowledge the recent kind words and phrases from (varified as not spam-, sex- or ad-bots*):

Succinct

"... He always left behind interesting comments. Then in early summer, Nam dropped off the face of the blogsphere to undertake a new journey ..."

Shoes-off

"... As others inspired me to create a blog, now I am motivating others to start their own. The ultimate goal is to build a site like this one designed by Nam, a volunteer in Morocco ..."

The Peter Files

"The photos you take are not the kind of thing you see in the press and are really interesting. Like the chickens, or the wonderful doors and windows."

Remember the "Hi Babs!" posting from a couple of weeks ago? Well, I received a very nice (unexpected!) email-letter from Babs saying she's in good spirit. Barb writes real (yes, real! scratching pen on linen stationary!) letters as often as I like to take pictures; however, in the interest of time, she emailed me instead. Here is an edited version of that email-letter (if it's quiet, then I can almost hear her proofing it several times over before sending it):

Finally my turn at the computer. [edited section] Your emails have been so uplifting and I love you and I love all the great emails you are sending. Please keep them coming. I want to hear all about all the wonderful friends I made in Azrou. Please tell me who will be in Midelt. I am so jealous.

[deleted section]

[edited section] I will definitly be staying in touch and making plans to meet you sometime, somewhere in OUR travels. MS** wants to meet my wonderful friend[s] also. She says "thank you" for all of the pictures and the wonderful "blog".

I can't tell you how much your letters have meant to me. I want to hear all about your experiences in Khemisset. Tell me where everyone else is going. Where is CK**? Where is JT**?

Oh yeah--I need an email address for [LCF***] H**. Could you possibly get it for me? [edited section]

Again, I couldn't miss you more. Love to all, Babs

The past week has been good. My homestay family and community (artisans, police, shopkeepers, etc) have been terrific from the biginning; however, now that I am based in Khemisset for the next couple of years, bonds have deepened beyond the minute-long greetings and relationships have extended beyond immediate contacts. Heck, from time to time I even have my own police guy following me around to keep me safe!

One thing I have not done on this trip: I still do not have a "permanent" post box. The artisans insist that I use their post box, and save my money. Post box rental is on a yearly lease, so I will wait until the beginning of the year to get my own; besides, the main branch is full and there is a waiting list.

I did manage to register with the police, speak with the local pharmacist, draw a map to my homestay family's apartment, get info to open a bank account, survey the local shops and marketplace, etc. What do you know ... it was a "work" week after all.

All over Khemisset are hanging festive banners and flags commemorating the Green March (re: march into the Western Sahara). One of the three topics we are asked not to discuss is the sensitive issue of the Western Sahara. Browse Hale's blog for some excellent information regarding the Western Sahara. I cannot assume all of Morocco is hanging such banners, as I have not travelled the country much aside from the fieldtrip, but I bet my donkey that banners can be seen in other cities, towns and villages.

My badboy host-brother RA** is full of surprises and talents. Though the family already get some 300-plus channels via the satellite dish, he (here recruiting host-dad and cousin) has figured out a way to rig the system to get some 1,000-plus channels! The funny thing is, the family is still surfing the familiar five channels, with the occasional browse over to the Austrian channels (as yet, I am not sure what this is about).

RA** is way connected with the community. One night, we were just bumming around and he introduced me to some friends. One of his friends owns a warehouse. The night we visited was banana-packing night at the warehouse, so I got to help a bit and got to bring home some just-ripe bananas for the breakfast table. The bananas are destined for the local fruitstands.

Taking pictures of government buildings is not allowed (not entirely sure the reason or when this became effective), except when said buildings are in the background and not the sole intent of the picture. So, just imagine the horse-drawn carriage that was cropped out of this picture of the local police building.

While hanging out with the artisans, I discoverd that apprentice TF** lives in my neighborhood. Sure enough, badboy host-brother knows him and the homestay family wants to invite TF over for a cup of much-too-sweet mint-steeped green tea when I move to Khemisset permanently. Until then, I am constantly shuttling between community-based training and session sites. On swearing-in, I can ditch the honorific title of "Trainee" for "Volunteer". TF speaks a good amount of English, and has agreed to help me with my darija [Moroccan Arabic] when I visit the cooperative.

I cannot stress enough how thrilled I am to be assigned to my site. The wood-carvers are just amazing. Within ten minutes, I witnessed the master wood-carver -- using only a crude hand-axe (no stencil or model) -- freed an elephant from its wood-block prison. The rough elephant is then given to one of the apprentices to sand, stain and polish. The whole process took less than an hour.
* technology is moving fast, and, somehow, I've been left in the slow lane. A few weeks before I left for Morocco, I called customer support at a large financial institution to settle my account. After "talking" to the person for about ten minutes, I realized it was a freakin' decision tree; the whole interaction was so natural that I didn't catch on until "she" said, "Please wait. I need to transfer you to a live representative"!
** actual names have been changed/withheld for obvious reasons (re: safety/security)
*** LCF = Language and Culture Facilitator. The LCFs have been providing us with intensive language and culture training to successfully get around on our own. Key in the training sessions is understanding cultural norms; textbook examples cannot adequately cover this elusive, yet critical, topic .. less making a mistake, such as walking around sporting mid-rib tops, outcasts us from our communities!

tags: peace corps.morocco

The Assignment

2005-11-09T01:15:00.000Z

I am thrilled .. my assigned final site is Khemisset. When I first heard that I was accepted to Peace Corps/Morocco, I did not give much thought on my site assignment due to the adrenaline rush that I was going to live in Africa for a couple of years. When I arrived in Morocco, I told the PC staff that I did not have a preference for my final site; heck, I did not even give them a preference for crafts/artisans to work with .. I was so low-key, the others were not sure if I had a blood pressure to indicate life. However, all this changed towards the end of phase II of the community-based training.

After a total of about three weeks at the community-based training site (Khemisset), I made the decision to speak up that I wanted Khemisset as my final site. Two others also made this request, while the rest left it up to the PC/Morocco staff to make the determination (with input from individuals regarding the assigned final sites). Many factors went into the decision to request the site as my final site, the top three factors:

I love my host family*;
I love the wood-carving artisans; and
I love the city.

Though Khemisset is not included in all guidebooks (sigh), I hope all of you will come to visit .. you'll have a place to stay, or at least a guide around town! I'll post info (re: demographics, crime stats, etc.) in a future post, as I'm a bit exhausted from this morning's jaunt to my final site -- took me three cabs rides (instead of the usual two) and over four hours (instead of the usual two) to get to my site; I was not aggressive enough to elbow out the Berber grandmothers for a seat when taxis pulled up.

NB: As with most images on this blog, click on them to enlarge.

With site assignment announced, SF** feverishly pins names to locations*** .. she's just way too organized; for gosh sake, she writes in upper caps (except when emailing).

TK, KM, VS, EH** and I were the last group to leave for our respective final sites; the first group left around 5:15am .. you think it would take them 40 days and nights to get to their final sites!

This is grandma MA** of my host-family; actually, both grandmothers were master weavers. Click on the image to enlarge and see the tattoos on her face (they are also on her hands and legs). This is a common practice for older textile weavers. As a master weaver, she has a large collection of carpets and blankets of amazing quality.

Click here to see a sampling of carpets and blankets the other grandmother's hands have woven.

Here is the other grandma with great-grandson, HA Jr**.

This family picture is on the morning of l3id ssgira [little feast]; this picture is here because it did not make it into the last posting. The guy in the cap is an uncle who dropped by for one of the dozen little breakfasts I had that morning! Missing from this picture is my little sister (she spent the night at a relative's].

* many pictures will be posted of my homestay family over the next couple of months
** actual names have been changed/withheld for obvious reasons
*** due to security and safety policy, volunteer locations and names are not identified here or privately, so don't even bother emailing/asking me regarding this topic me

tags: peace corps.morocco

The Gaza Strip (not really)

2005-11-04T03:10:00.000Z

I update this blog sporatically as cyber access can be unreliable and unpredictable ... hmm, I'm sure I learned the word "sporatically" from Jane-Austen-classic-Sense-&-Sensibility-modern-take-Clueless (re: Alicia Silverstone, Brittany Murphy; a smart-ass from down under nudged me that it was based on Austen's "Emma"), but I digress .. Today (Nov 3) was the last day of Ramadan in Morocco .. yeah! Tomorrow is known as l3id s-sgir [little feast]. Though it is a three day, religious holiday for the whole of Morocco, the Peace Corps trainees only get one day off .. still, no mdrasa [school] is nice as I can actually stay up late and hang-out with my homestay family. The end of Ramadan means that we're back on a "regular" schedule*:

I'm bummed that Ramadan is over, as there will be no more lftar [breaking of the fast] or invitations to lftar; some food is prepared only during Ramadan. Also, waking up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom can lead to hanging out with the family until dawn; ma loom [of course], this means i was often dozzing off during my language & culture sessions. Of the 30 days of Ramadan, I fasted for 25 days; I did not fast part of the fieldtrip and a couple of days due to illness (thank goodness the "big D"** hasn't visited me yet!).

As with most images on this blog, click on them to enlarge.
NB: actual names are withheld for obvious reasons.

First off, this post is dedicated to Babs .. 'nuff said.

This is my extended homestay family in Khemisset. Hearing from what the other trainees have said of their homestay experience, I'm confident that my homestay family has unofficially won "Best Homestay Family" Award! The lingual-fencing can be intimidating***, but that's just an added benefit as I continue to improve my language skills.

Host xuti [my sister] is an expert henna [temporary tattoo] applicator; and since l3id s-sgir is one of the major holidays, she's been busy round-the-clock doing henna with her female friends and family; males only get henna for marriage ceremonies.

As I am the only Asian in a city of 100,000, people are naturally curious about me and what I'm doing in Morocco .. hence, I've made a few friends on my daily route to school. One of my favorite stops is this metalshop run by two brothers (their kids help out). It bums me that the kids aren't in school, but at least they're learning a useful craft and staying out of trouble.

My homestay family presented me with a tailored j-jalab [traditional hooded coat]. I was so touched that I was in tears for about 15 mins. My super-smart, astronaut-bound host brother gave me a pair of brlgha [traditional slippers]; the my freakin' smart host brother-physics-math-major is gonna graduate from Rabat Univeristy in May '06 and hopes to attend a top university in Paris for his graduate studies .. en sha llah.

I've gone to the fairground a few times with xuya [my brother]. Though no Disneyland, I still had fun .. but you won't catch me on some of the amusement rides; hmmm, the littered loose screws make me a bit mqllqa [nervous] about mechanical safety (it's not a top-of-mind concern here).

It's true that I cross a dirt field (reminescent of the Gaza Strip landscape) to get to mdrasa [school]; it was a turn-off at first, but the scenery has grown on me and I actually look forward to seeing what new "treasures" can be found during my daily crossing.

* Nothing has been "regular" since the start of Staging in Philadelphia.
** diarrhea
*** Spoken language heard around the house: d-darija (Moroccan Arabic), Fusia (classical Arabic), Tamazight (Berber dialect), Tashelhet (Berber dialect), Terifet (Berber dialect), French, Spanish, and English.

tags: peace corps.morocco.ramadan.holiday

The Secret Kitchen

2005-10-27T22:38:00.000Z

The secret is out .. I have one of the best homestay families! MA* and SA* do what they can to make sure I have a great homestay experience; they seem to go out of their way to explain anything I ask about .. and the lingua-du-jour can be Darija [Moroccan Arabic], French, broken English, Tamazigh [Berber] or Spanish! The children (daughter LA* and RA*) make great learning partners, as we exchange language lessons .. I teach them English, and they teach me Darija.

Recently, I invited another Peace Corps Trainee VS* to come visit my homestay family. We all had a wonderful time, as seen in the photos below.

As with most images on this blog, click on them to enlarge.

Yeah, I made everyone sit for another couple of minutes so I can take a picture before lftar [breaking of the fast]. As we've been fasting since dawn, everyone was anxious for me to take the (damn!) picture so we can start eating and drinking.

My host walida [mother] shows VS* how to make delicious bghrir [Moroccan crepe-pancake soaked in buttered honey]. Click here for another picture of VS* putting the finishing touches on the bghrir.

And here is my host walid [father] teaching me to cook. Men are rarely (if ever!) allowed in the kitchen, but I have a cool homestay family! Click here to see me trying to cook the hoot [fish] myself .. though I didn't burn them, they were crispier than the family is used to!

It's hard to believe that Moroccans prefer to exercise just before lftar [breaking of the fast]; though some items for lftar are prepared hours (if not days) ahead, others are prepared just before dusk. While the women prepare the food, the men are usually off watching soccer matches. In this picture is my host brother RA* [in the white/red jersey] scoring the winning point for the hometeam!

* actual names are withheld for obvious reasons.

tags: peace corps.morocco.cooking

Shopping at the Souq

2005-10-25T21:39:00.000Z

As part of the cultural experience, I spend time walking around the souq [outdoor market] and swirka [little souq] as much as I can. Aside from the opportunity to take some fun pictures, I can find practically everything I need at these places .. except peanut butter and brown sugar; for these, I must go to the supermarche [supermarket] .. the closest supermarche to Azrou is about 1 1/2 hr away just outside of Meknes .. well, you know what's on my wish list now!

We're all pretty excited just hang out with our host, BP*. Picture courtesy of KM.

Really enjoyed the field trip, and BP* was an awesome host. CK* made soup one night, while KM*, SF* and I helped around the kitchen as much as possible. Not in my wildest fantasy have I dreamt of having a candle-light dinner (with chopsticks!) in Morocco. Life is full of surprises that way. Click here for an alternative picture.

A few weeks ago, I went to the souq [market] with LK* on one of our self-directed learning days. LS ended up buying a different jllaba [traditional hooded coat], but doesn't she look great in this? Though she didn't option to get a tailored jllaba, the one she got is more than enough for her 38-inch inseam! My homestay family is having a jllaba tailored for me.

Shopping for the kitchen can be a treat for the eyes and nose .. here, BP*, our fieldtrip host is pointing out what spices have been successful for him in the kitchen. Pictures from the fieldtrip here.

Really enjoyed the fieldtrip, and BP* was an awesome host. CK* made soup one night, while KM*, SF* and I helped around the kitchen as much as possible. Not in my wildest fantasy have I dreamt of having a candle-light dinner (with chopsticks!) in Morocco. Life is full of surprises that way. Click here for an alternative picture.

A bit too organic for me at times, the vegetable and fruit stalls are a feast for the eyes. I just got to remember not to eat in public during Ramadan.

Fresh tmir [dates] are delicious .. they drip from the date bunch like honey .. I'm not sure what a bunch of dates is called, bunch? cluster?

* actual names withheld for obvious reasons.

tags: peace corps.morocco.fieldtrip.shopping

Fieldtrip to Azlag & Kalaa M'Gouna

2005-10-20T21:45:00.000Z

A week in Azlag & Kalaa M-Gouna (just returned from our first "field-trip") .. and I had a blast. The trip from Azrou down to Azlag & Kalaa M'Gouna took nine hours, one bus, four grand taxis and a hotel. Due to the "no travel at night" policy, we stayed in Tinghir before continuing our trip to Kalaa M'Gouna the next morning .. it worked out for us, as we were able to enjoy our time walking around Tinghir, and got to meet one of the second-year volunteers who will be leaving service in December; he's best remembered for his "internal monologues" - email me for details.

Our amazing host, BP*, was one of the current first-year volunteers. For an Abercrombie & Fitch whiteboy, he's an excellent cook with a kitchen that only Martin Yan could have fully stock; I mean, how does one, especially an East-coast whiteboy, have red/purple sticky rice, curry mixes, fish sauce, hot chilli sauce in a Moroccan kitchen?

It was a nice break from the structured language and cultural lessons to go on the field trip. Also, I went on the field trip with a group that was not from my community-based training group; so, it was terrific to have a chance to get to know some of the others.

As with most images on this blog, click on them to enlarge.

I love my fieldtrip group - don't we look like the most unlikely bunch assembled?

Here we are, the five of us piled into the first of four taxis needed to get to Azlag; a taxi of six, or even seven, is not uncommon in Morocco.

Rachidia is one of the mdina [towns/cities] we had to pass through; though I didn't care for the city (way too kbira [big] for me), I really enjoyed the landscape around the city.

Due to the "no travel at night" policy, we voted to stay the night in Tinghir. From the hotel's rooftop, we had a nice evening of lftar [break-fast], breaking of the fast to the near-full moon. Across from the hotel was a small park where we took the chance to rest before catching up with the second-year volunteer. I wouldn't mind having this as my final site!

Kasbas [old castle/fortress] can be seen all over Morocco. During our stay, host BP took us on a hike near near this kasba .. what surprised me is that people still lived in them!

BP works with many artisans, and we got many invites to lftar [breaking of the fast]. The view from the rooftop of one of the artisan's house is amazing, the near-full moon added a sense of surrealism.

Movie-star-quality, Hollywood-gossip-mongering SF* was completely psyched to find chewing gums named after her hometown, Chicago; connection: famed Wrigley Gums has a big factory in her town. However, she was puzzled with the flavor: banana-flavoured gum.

I was fasting for RAMADAN until a couple of days ago. It was a hot day, and we were walking around the souq [open market] when I made the mistake of asking for lipbalm .. SF handed me CHERRY-flavoured chapstick .. and that was when I decided to break my fast; I'll continue fasting next week, when I'm at my homestay.

* actual names are withheld for obvious reasons.

tags: peace corps.morocco.travel

Mosquee Ennour

2005-10-11T21:23:00.000Z

The main jammae (mosque) in Azrou is the Mosquee Ennour, located at the heart of the mdina (city center) .. in addition to the moque gate of the previous post, below are some images of the jammae from different angles.

tags: peace corps.morocco.buildings

Ramadan, An Annular Eclipse, Sheep Riding in Car and Salads Overload

2005-10-05T17:34:00.000Z

Today (October 5, 2005) is the first day of RAMADAN. During the next 29 days, I will be fasting (personal choice, not required) from dawn to sunset; fasting means no food or water while the sun shines. Breakfast is at 4:00AM, breaking of the fast is around 6:00PM, and dinner is around 9:00PM. So, as you can imagine, the whole of Morocco (and the Islamic world) goes on a different social activity cycle during this time. Due to the shrouding darkness, I was not able to take a picture of the trumpeter who goes around town around 3:30AM to remind everyone to eat before dawn.

The architecture in Morocco is absolutely stunning. Though I did not go into the mosque (forbidden, except for a tourist mosque in Casablanca), this gate caught my attention (this is one of 30+ pictures I have of this gate).

An annular eclipse occurred on Monday, around 7:45AM to 10:15am UT, and I was fortunate to witness it. However, my digital camera was blinded by the celestial phenomenon.

Leaving Khemisset for Azrou, our group needed to catch a grand taxi (this is a cheap mode of transportation between cities). The grand taxi in front of us was loading a sheep to go into the trunk. I was both fascinated and disturbed with this mode of transportation for livestock; from what I can tell, expect more livestock-transportating pictures in the future.

We are completely spoiled during our training. Here is a selection of salads (no less than eight different types are available at lunch and dinner meals) that I must learn to make before I go off to my assigned community site. I'm not fond of the potato salad.

tags: peace corps.morocco

Khemisset Wood and Wool

2005-09-29T20:55:00.000Z

Since I have little time to post while in Khemisset (re: language/culture lessons and hanging out with the homestay family), here are some pictures to keep y'all entertained for a couple of days. I wish I could have taken pictures of my experience at the hemman (public bath)!

Khemisset is known for its zerbiya (carpets/rugs), but our group had the great opportunity to meet with the wood-carving and embroidery cooperatives (conveniently located near each other). This wood carving is part of a doorway panel leading into the embroidery cooperative .. zwin (beautiful), non?

At the zerbiya (carpets/rugs) co-op, we saw weavers masterfully worked on their looms. Rugs predominated by red, yellow and white are from the Khemisset Provice, and those of blue and white are from the Ifrane Province. Behind this tightly strung rug base are two women weaving without any drawn plans (compare this to my inability to color inside the lines).

At the wood-carving co-op, I felt like a tourist looking at all the finished products.

At the embroidery co-op, I had the chance to examine in detail the embroidery works of the women-only co-op. I'm sure I'll be shipping some dar (house) at the close of my hay-et salam (Peace Corps) experience!

On my treq (path/route) between my homestay and language/cultural lessons are these flag circles. Though not the size of crop circles, both hold the same mystery for me. I'll have to remember to ask my homestay 'a'lia (family) or teacher about these flag circles.

Khemisset Immersion Experience

2005-09-27T20:45:00.000Z

I arrived in Khemisset (it's between Rabat and Azrou) on Sunday for more language and cultural immersion experience. My first (of two) homestay family is a joy to write home about. Here (L-R) are Adda, Saadia and Lubdna just relaxing after a cup of much-too-sweet atay (mint tea); son Houscene is away at college and may return home for Ramadan. And .. yes, if you're wondering .. the MODEL RELEASE FORMS have been signed.

Since Adda is a primary school ustad (teacher, French & Science) of 25 years, he's giving me a short lesson in French before we switch back to classical Arabic. Every now and then, I do catch him using Berber around the dar (house)!

On my regular trk (route/path) from homestay to l-mdrada (school/class) is this mural. I'm not sure what to make of it, other than the fact that I like it.

While at the souq (outdoor market), I got the chance to take many teswira (pictures) that come to life in many travel guides. This weld (boy) is utterly bored at this post as cashier at a lhem (meat) counter. A souq is kinda-sorta like a flea-market, but the experience is uncomparable. Oh, I've started to think in terms of the metric system.

I prefer to shop for vegetables and fruits at the souq; but for meats, I'll go to the butchers. If anyone has a great (and I mean, great!) French onion soup recipe, then please send along. I'll be making a few pots during the upcoming cold winter months.

Khamessett is known for production of zerbiya (carpets/rugs), both high- and low-end products. I'm told that, recently, households are dusting off their old zerbiya and selling them at high-traffic tourist places; the idea is that tourists value these as antiques. Moroccans only buy new zerbiya.

Wool yarn is cheap at the souq; if Julia Roberts can learn to knit, then I ought to give it a try .. yeah, right.

Moroccan pointed-toe sebbat (shoes/slippers) are known the world over. I'm sure this is not the last teswira (picture) of sebbat to be posted on this blog.

One of the odder hanut (shop) at the souq was this guy selling human teeth. I guess there is a toothfairy, after all! Maybe he was a dentist before setting up shop at the souq.

Living Large in Azrou

2005-09-25T16:01:00.000Z

While at the mdina (city/shopping center), I took the opportunity tkellem (to speak) with an artisan-jewelery maker about his craft; it was early in the day, so there were few customers milling about. There was no pressure to buy anything, but I did get a couple of rings (to ward off the evil eye) after spending some 30 mins of chatting with him; we even had a mid-morning cup of refreshing atay (mint-tea; again, too sweet for me) and sweet dates.

Aside from the influence of French pastries, Moroccan typically have fakiya (fruit) for desserts. In season are teffah (apples), grapes and Cabasa melons. Though I do not eat fresh teffah (upsets stomach, re: ethyl gas) and avoid grapes (result of my involvement in the the Grape Boycott Campaign of the 90's), the melons are delicious here -- very sweet and ripe. Fakiya and khdra (vegetables) are grown organically here.

Our group has been spoiled with delicious makla (food) prepared three times a day for us. This is a platter of rice-stuffed eggplants. I'll have to get the recipe, but am told that the kitchen is the sphere of woman, and secrets are orally passed to daughters.

Across from the main mosque is a local attraction (I'm getting it doubles as make-out point at dusk): a huge metal crown. I have yet to get the story of what it represents (probably homage to the Moroccan royal family), how long it's been there, and why the electrical cord isn't more out of sight.

Hiking above Azrou, I was able to get a better sense of the size of the town and noted immediately the numerous satellite dishes on many rooftops. I'm told that television plays a big part in communicating the exact date of the start of Ramadan.

While on the hike, I came across a few sheep/goat herders. I spoke with some of them to practice my Arabic (and French, they all spoke French) and to ask about their flocks. After speaking with the herders, I know exactly what is on every Moroccan's mind who I come across them: who is attending my flock while I'm out taking pictures?

Azrou is known for its surrounding cider ghaba (forest). I can assure you this is a picture taken above Azrou; I am not in front of a blue screen, then Azrou city/forest photoshopped post-production for realism.

Some will argue that a sunset is the same the world over, but in Azrou it is punctuated with the last prayer of the day coming from mosques.

When in Azrou, Part Deux

2005-09-24T18:20:00.000Z

It's hard to believe, but cutting/logging of trees is illegal in Morocco .. this is clearly (clearly!) contrary to the logging trucks I see driving down the main street every day. I didn't think much of this until I looked up and saw that the electric poles were made of cement, and not the familiar wooden poles found in Anytown, U.S.A.

Since a hmar (donkey) is considered a dirty animal, it gets no respect in Morocco. If there's a need to bring up a topic about a donkey (and other topics including bathroom/WC, underwear, etc), it's polite to follow-up with "h-shak" -- it basically translate to something like "I'm sorry I must speak of this shameful topic". During our one of our five-minute, hourly breaks from language and cultural lessons, I stepped outside for some fresh air. This man, riding a hmar a-la-Angelina-Jolie-by-way-of-Lara-Croft, was kind enough to allow me to take a picture of him with the beast of burden, h-shak! lla ysehhel (may Allah help you)!

In my limited "free time" away from the hostel, I usually walk to the mdina (city center) to practice my limited vocabulary and observe cultural differences. The walk takes me 'round the mosque, where the daily prayers can be heard even from the edge of town.

Most homes use gaz (butane/profane) for cooking, heating, etc. As such, there are refilling stations everywhere .. just don't smoke while standing next to one of these stations.

Walking Around Azrou

2005-09-23T18:33:00.000Z

There is no street map for Azrou, Morocco .. street maps are available only for large/medium cities. One of the current volunteers oriented us to Azrou with his hand-drawn map; community mapping is one of the first tasks that I will be doing shortly after arriving at my assigned community site.

I love walking around Azrou's mdina (outdoor market) .. it's a good place to find everyday items, and the spice shops fill the air from morning to dusk with sweet scents.

A date seller at the mdina .. I counted at least 10 different grades of dates. He offered me samples; the higher priced dates were delicious, to the point of rivaling honey in sweetness. For just 10 dirham (that's just over US$1.00), I can get a kilo (about 2.2 pounds) of tastey dates (tr-mar).

Morocco is diverse on many levels. Just outside of this cropped image of a woman in traditional clothing is a group of women in Western-style jeans and long-sleeved shirts.

Walking around town, I take many pictures of the ornate, yet functional, doors and windows. This is a composite of four doors/windows just near my inn/hostel.

When in Azrou

2005-09-19T18:26:00.000Z

If you find yourself in Azrou and need to get connected to the internet .. be sure to visit La Brise and say hi to owners, Abdelfader and Nicolas.

This is a marketing ploy that got me to step inside and check out the poultries available for the day. My handbook recommends that I buy chickens and feed them for a few days prior to serving them.

The people in Morocco are very friendly, this boy (who spoke Moroccan Arabic, French and Spanish) adopted me as his "big brother" and taught me a few words.I was able to say a few words in Arabic.

Looks like the "Stop" sign is universal the world over.

Meet Me in Azrou!

2005-09-18T20:05:00.000Z

I'm currently staying in Azrou, just two hours east of Rabat. The group is staying in Azrou for a couple of weeks to get Culture and Language Training. I guess I'm doing a pretty good job in my courses, as evidence by the kids posing for this picture. Ssalamu 'lekum!

Yes, Coca-Cola has made an in-road into Moroccan culture. Yes, that's me; however, I did not quelch my thirst with the Coke .. I'm not a big soda fan.

Every town in Morocco has a mosque, and Azrou is no exception.

One of the architectural features of Azrou is that older buildings are pitched with green, tiled roofs.

This is quickly becoming one of my favorite pictures of myself. Though it was hot as can be during the day, sleeping on the roof-deck of where we're staying, under the stars, proved to be bone-chilling cold; it was a personal choice to slumber roof-top. Redeeming value: waking up in the middle of the night to watch the Orion constellations swirling overhead.

Big Brother .. Not Really

2005-09-14T20:09:00.000Z

From the rooftop of my hotel in Rabat, what struck me about the cityscape (besides the amazing mosque tower) .. the numerous satellite dishes and antennae.

2005-09-14T20:07:00.000Z

The mosque close to my hotel in Rabat; the call to pray can be heard five times a day.

El Shutdown

2005-09-12T03:36:00.000Z

... Though I will be learning French and Arabic shortly, I thought it would be fun to start with a bit of Spanish while taking the underground subway in Philadelphia.

The Gold Mask

2005-09-12T03:09:00.000Z

Around the corner from my hotel is a piece of outdoor art that .. caught my attention. It's big, it's gold. Need I say more?

Calder's Mountain

2005-09-12T03:08:00.000Z

Alexander Calder is known for his mobiles .. I had no idea there one was big enough to climb on. Odd, the police did not come running to fine, or even arrest, me as they surely would, if I had tried the gymnastic with an environmental sculputre in San Francisco.

Eakins Oval

2005-09-12T03:05:00.000Z

At the Eakins Oval (a "park" looped by wide streets with speeding cars) is a statue/fountain of immense proportions. I'm just in front of one of the sides, even so, I was standing on a ledge.

The Glass Building

2005-09-12T02:56:00.000Z

One of the most amazing buildings I have ever seen is "The Glass Building" in Philadelphia. On a sunny day with clouds rolling by ever so slowly, it can play tricks on the eye: there is a building there, right? I can assure you this is not a PhotoShop image.

Reboot

2005-09-11T04:29:00.000Z

Some time ago, I wrote about starting a new adventure* .. I was cryptic at the time because I did not want to 'jinx' the process by talking about it incessantly. My "secret mission" is now revealed for all: I am joining the Peace Corps.

I am assigned to MOROCCO, 13-Sept-05 to 7-Dec-05 with the job responsibility of Small Business Development Advisor. As much as I love all things electronic, a "real" postcard (rather than an "ecard") would be most appreciated (of course, send me an email with your address if you want a postcard from Morocco):

Nam LaMore, Trainee
s/c Corps de la Paix
2 rue Abdou Marouane Essadi
Rabat 10100 MOROCCO
One of the last requests (just like the Rolling Stones, there's never a "last" concert/request) the Peace Corps asked me to forward my Aspiration Statement** and updated Resume. I'm not reposting the resume, it's dull as a doorknob.

This entry represents the last regular entry, as, going forward, this blog evolves into a photoblog, with the occasional entries taken from my journal. Frequency of blog posting depends on access to the Internet via Internet cafes. Wish me luck as I learn French and Arabic!

I am on the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art (think of the movie "Rocky"). Yes, I look tired and sleepy due to the red-eye flight from Los Angeles to Philadelphia (for orientation before flying to Morocco) .. with a bit over two hours of sleep, I just wanted to take a nap.

* posts Start of the Journey Part I & Part II.

** This is the aspiration statement:
Expectations
Though managing expectations has always been a key strategy for success in corporate culture, I am keeping an open mind with regards to my Peace Corps experience. I have spoken with many returning Peace Corps volunteers, and feel prepared to deal with and accept the challenges of living in a different culture. General and specific expectations include:

Strategies for adapting to a new culture ...
As I prepare for my Peace Corps experience, I have given thoughts on how to adapt to a new culture to avoid home-sickness, culture-bashing, etc. General and specific strategies include:

Personal and Professional Goals
Though I plan to return to corporate life (perhaps in the non-profit sector) after my Peace Corps experience, I have entertained the possibility of going back to school for an MBA degree. I suspect that my Peace Corps experience will greatly influence where I work and what I choose to do. As an “Idealist” (“INFP,” according to Jung’s personality profile), I believe the Peace Corps is an opportunity to improve the overall quality of my life, and those I come in contact with.

I am looking forward to two-years of exceptional experience.

tags: peace corps.morocco

Blog Suspension

2005-06-30T08:20:00.000Z

Transformed after emerging from a technological fast and due to changing situations, my blogging is now suspended indefinitely/immediately. Blogging has opened doors to distant lands and many new friendships. If not already, then expect an email from me in the near future.

Feel free to email me:

The Start of the Journey, Part II

2005-06-30T08:15:00.000Z

As part of the lengthy application for AGENCY, I submitted the following background statement (accompanying the motivation statement) to substantiate my interest in joining the AGENCY.

Nam LaMore: Cross-Cultural Experience
As a first-generation immigrant, and having worked at large corporations, I have many examples of cross-cultural experience to draw upon. I can discuss my experience as a participant in an Education Abroad Program (1990-1991, University of East Anglia, Norwich, England); as a teaching aide of English as a Second Language to migrant workers (summer 1992); or as a "conversationalist" and residential assistance to groups of international students looking to improve their English language skills (summer 1989). However, I will relate my cross-cultural experience in the business environment working at multi-cultural, multi-national corporations.

"Active listening" is one of the most important skills I have developed through working at corporations with a diverse workforce. While managing, hosting or collaborating with team members in multiple locations, I learned early on that it was important to give everyone the opportunity to be heard. This is not simply announcing through the speaker-phone, "It's your turn," but, rather, it is also realizing that culture (and perhaps gender) plays a large part in who participates in the discussion. For example, I observed that "Debbie" (marketing manager in Japan) often hesitated sharing ideas in conference calls, but will send emails after or before the calls. After some email and phone conversations with Debbie, it was clear that she was not confident in speaking English, though she has perfect written English. My solution to this perception of barrier was to rotate hosting responsibility of the weekly meeting. Not only did this exercise helped to build up her confidence (in leadership skill & English language use), but also allowed each country representative to voice their issues and concerns, rather than just telling them what to do. In this same exercise, I learned that the foundation for a working relationship in some cultures is based on public facts; often, (Incidentally, this exercise also taught me to speak slowly (or repeat as required) when non-native English speakers were present.)

Non-verbal communication was an emphasis in several professional courses I took relating to business communication to an international audience. In one particular course, the focus was on the impact of body language. Taking this course helped me to better communicate with colleagues from other countries/cultures. For example, direct eye contact is encouraged in the West; it is a sign of strength and confidence. However, we had learned that in Asian cultures, direct eye contact is considered to be rude, or disrespectful, or intimidating. As the global village continues to shrink and cultures collide, I find it is essential for all of us to become more sensitive, more aware, and more observant to the flood of motions, gestures, and body language that surround us each day.

A requirement of my profession is traveling and coming in contact with people from different background. The adage "When in Rome ..." rings true when visiting other countries. On a recent trip to Asia Pacific, my host in Taipei took me to dinner at a traditional Taiwanese restaurant. Before dishes were ordered, my host said it would not offend her if I did not try some of the dishes. Up for the culinary adventure, I tried everything from steamed fern slaw to a version of stew (prepared with snake). My hosts were impressed that I did not show any dismay or object to the experience. From that point, my hosts knew that I was up for the 'non-tourist' areas of Taipei (such as going to the outdoor night markets).

I believe that my experience, education, and travel have prepared me to serve in the AGENCY. I am physically and emotionally ready to join the AGENCY, and the adjustments of re-entry upon completion of my assignment with the AGENCY.

# # #

Time Out

2005-06-16T00:08:00.000Z

The last week has been extremely busy, and I've not felt like turning on the computer 'after hours' -- hence, the lack of new entries. I hope the situation will improve within the next few days ... I hope.

In the meantime, this is a place-holder post to get y'all to start playing an online video game I used to play ... Diablo: The Lord of Destruction. The image is a composite of characters I have played ... my favorite class to play is the sorceress; other playable classes are the necromancer, palidin, assasin, druid, amazon and barbarian. Once completitng the most difficult part of the game, your character earns the title of Matriarch or Patriach; however, I play a version of the game where my character's title is Guardian. Far more interesting, and error-prone, information can be found at the unofficial site DiabloII.net.

Diablo is published by Blizzard Entertainment (part of Vivendi Universal Games); other popular titles from the studio include WarCraft and StarCraft. Vivendi made headlines last year when it merged with NBC to emerge as NBC Universal. As noted in the previous post, corporate naming is the most creative part of any company's function. I suspect the lawyers and marketing folks at both companies had a difficult time agreeing to a new company name, so took the easy way out and rolled a 20-sided die to come up with the name; Rock-Paper-Scissor does not work for ex-D&D gamers.

tags: video games.diablo.fun.fantasy

Marketing 101: Word Continuity

2005-06-10T02:19:00.000Z

Word association is a very powerful tool in marketing, so it's no surprise I enjoy this form of word-play. Give me a piece of paper, a pen and a dictionary/thesaurus, and I am in heaven with word continuity.

While waiting for public transportation this afternoon, I came up with these sets (evil-lawful & chaos-order). Word-play can often occupy my time for hours; have a go at the word-play word association (hate-love, poor-rich, hunger-satiety, etc), you'll find yourself addicted to them. I'm not sure if they can be called poems, but prepare yourself for an emotional roller-coaster ride:

Evil-to-Lawful
Evil
Nefarious, Sinful
Malicious, Wrong, Indifference, Right, Affectionate
Loving, Virtuous
Lawful

Chaos-to-Order
Chaos
Mess, Jumble
Confusion, Disorder, Random, Complex, Array
Structure, Thoughtful
Order

I've tried the continuity for Man-to-Woman, but it is very limiting; however, going from Child-to-Adult holds much surprises. Yes, this is the kind of silly games often played in marketing meetings. When we get bored with word association games, we turn the coffee cups over and see what Rorschach Inkblot patterns emerge. This is how products and companies are named.

tags: marketing.business.brand.branding.words.creativity.games

Slogans: Something for Everybody

2005-06-08T17:51:00.000Z

... what happens when my name becomes part of a slogan? Refresh [F5 key] or revisit to generate a new slogan*:

As with most forms of communications, when taken out of context they can become unintentionally comical or "fresh". Some political and corporate slogans and taglines that have caught my attention through the years (these are real, most were used for global or nation-wide campaigns):

What can brown do for you?

To export to the world, follow the arrow

Solutions for a small planet.

The Network is the Computer

Write Once. Run Anywhere

Windows Everywhere

Think Different

Where's the beef

If it doesn't get all over the place, it doesn't belong in your face

Finger lickin' good

Billions and billions served

One in a billion

We love to see you smile

What you want is what you get

I'm Lovin' It

Pardon me. Do you have any Grey Poupon

Good to the last drop

The Un-Cola

Generation Next

The San Francisco treat

M&Ms melt in your mouth, not in your hand

The other white meat

The greatest show on Earth

Kinder, Gentler Nation

Leave No Child Behind

Compassionate Conservatism

Yes, America can

Putting America first

We'll leave a light on for you

Just Do It

Is it Live or is it Memorex

And On You Go

Come to where the flavor is

Less irritating to the throat

Don't leave home without it

Reach out and touch someone

All the news that's fit to print

The daily diary of the American dream

An Army of One

It's not just a job. It's an Adventure

Give a hoot. Don't pollute

Only you can prevent forest fires

More slogans and taglines can be found here. This post was inspired partially due to PERI's current post regarding Apple-Intel deal.

* I was not joking when I mentioned a few weeks ago regarding a website that generates blog content for me.

** My contribution to my business unit at the time -- "Develop Anywhere. Deploy Everywhere" -- was short-lived because the lawyers got in the way.

*** Apple's original "Think Different" (grammatically correct: "Think Differently") campaign generated many parodies, including one that juxtaposed the original text over unlikely images (I can neither confirm nor deny my involvement in the production of this parody "Think Different" (requires QuickTime plug-in) - even if I was working for the competitor at the time).

Apple Computer's "Think Different" Parody: Spoken Text [Image Parody (actual)]
Here's to the crazy ones ... [Ted 'Unabomber' Kaczynski (Physicist Albert Einstein)]
The misfits. The rebels. [Bomber Timothy McVeigh (Musician Bob Dylan)]
The troublemakers. [Acquitted Murder-Suspect Suspect O.J. Simpson (Civil Rights Leader Martin Luther King)]
The round peg in a square hole. [Former President Ronald Reagan (Virgin Records Founder/CEO Richard Branson)]

The ones who see things differently. [Videotape Footage of Rodney King Beating (Musician John Lennon)]

They're not fond of rules [Former President Bill Clinton (Musician/Performer Yoko Ono)]
They have no respect for the status quo. [Vice President Idiot Savant Dan Quayle (Geodesic Dome Inventor Buckmister Fuller)]

You can quote them. [Erstwile Olympic Bombing Suspect Richard Jewell (Inventor Thomas Alva Edison)]
Disagree with them, [Supermodel Kathy Ireland (Boxer Muhammed Ali)]
Glorify or vilify them. [(Media Mogul Ted Turner)]

About the only thing you [Comedienne Ellen Degeneres (Operatic Soprano Maria Callas)]
Can't do is ignore them;
Because they change things [(Peace Advocate Gandhi)]
They push the human race forward. [Nazi Leader Adolf Hitler (Aviator Amelia Earhart)]

And while some may see them [Sadist Sports Announcer Alfonse D'Amato (Film Director Afred Hitchcock)]
As the crazy ones, [(Dancer Martha Graham)]
We see genius. [Radio badboy Howard Stern (Puppeteer Jim Hanson)]

Because the people who are [Heaven's Gate Leader Marshall Herff Applewhite (Architech Frank Lloyd Wright)]
Crazy enough to think
They can change the world ...

Are the ones who do. [High School Drop-out Stoners Beavis and Butt-Head (Artist Pablo Picasso)]

tags: business.advertising.marketing.communications.taglines.brand.branding.slogans

Closet Hanger-Ons

2005-06-07T17:09:00.000Z

Further to clearing out my closet of unwanted clutter (punctuated by distractions of email and Internet surfing; hence, this post), I made the discovery that the Chicago-based tailoring company Oxxford Clothes is finally selling its inch-thick hardwood hangers. I have a simple formula when deciding how much to spend on a hanger for any particular garment: T x A x $G = $H*

Costing a cool US$35 a pop and weighing in at nearly a pound (that's 0.45 kg), the hanger is finished in an ebony dye and polished to a glassy shine. At that price, it better plays a perfect Gershwin's "An American in Paris" tune.

At our Oxxford workrooms in Chicago, 500 MasterTailors and MasterSeamstresses expertly sew each Oxxford garment one at a time. Today, more than 1000 hands work together to cut, sew, press and finish each garment, a result that surpasses the level of quality achieved by other manufacturers or custom tailors.

Me, I prefer the Kidorable's wild animals wooden hangers over Oxxford or dry-cleaner hangers; I have a few Oxxford-style hangers as a result of my business travels and staying at Le Meridien, Wyndham and Ritz-Carlton hotels. Yes, it was during the dot-com era when we were required to stay at luxury hotels so clients and competitors could know that my employer was le shit, da bomb, the 800-pound guerilla ... you get the picture; I'm no longer at [undisclosed company], and I've heard recently that employees are now required to double-up at Motel 6 or hostels if it's absolutely necessary to travel.**

No... wire... hangers. What's wire hangers doing in this closet when I told you, "no wire hangers ever" ... You've got any more? We're gonna see how many wire hangers you've got in your closet. Wire hangers, why? Why? ... and you don't care if your clothes are stretched out from wire hangers.

* Variables: T is how many TIME I've worn the garment, A is the number of times I've been abducted by ALIENS, $G is the GARMENT PRICE and $H is the HANGER PRICE I am willing to spend. You're working too hard ... there is no cryptogram here.

** This is so not true, the company is still pissing away what little is in their cash reserve. Anyone want my stocks in the pathetic company?

tags: clothing.fashion.closet.hangers.style.shopping

The Start of the Journey

2005-06-06T15:15:00.000Z

About 18 months ago, I submitted an application to AGENCY that has finally started to show movement. This is the motivation statement that I submitted with the lengthy application ...

Nam LaMore: Motivation StatementIn spite of my academic background, I take a holistic, inter-disciplinary approach to understanding problems of social justice that affirms the role of personal experience in understanding people and societies. The main reasons I want to serve in the AGENCY are: a chance to help improve living conditions in some of the most impoverish parts of the world; the desire to rehabilitate, improve, or defend the environment; and the opportunity to promote long-lasting, cross-cultural awareness. These reasons have threaded my decisions in school and work for as long as I can remember. Attending UC Santa Cruz gave me a remarkable space to explore my spirituality and express my creativity. While at UCSC, I was in the Education Abroad Program to England and I had an incredible time, heightened by the fact that I lived in the international dorm. Since graduating from UCSC, I’ve worked for large, global corporations and participated in various corporate volunteering programs. Expressing desire and proven culturally-sensitive, I was often tapped to work with the international groups within these corporations. I envision the AGENCY experience fitting into one of my life goals: promoting diversity and understanding in my personal and professional endeavors.

# # #

While You're Down There ...

2005-06-05T18:42:00.000Z

I got a surprise from sassy blogger LOVE HURTS yesterday. A few weeks ago, I noticed that she was mounting a fantastic campaign, "While You're Down There ...*" That certainly caught my attention; proving, indeed, that sex sells, but not sure if the message gets across as I stare at the images! After a short exchange, she mentioned that she was able to secure a few sets of the posters and would ship a set to me; I got them "par avion" yesterday. The posters will be on loan to local cafes. THANK YOU, LOVE HURTS, for the posters!

On a related note, the United Nations has declared today "World Environment Day". The theme for this year's campaign is "One World Many People"(lacking in creativity and catchiness). As I am neither a city mayor nor a fan of Al Gore (self-proclaimed inventor-of-the-Internet junior who lost to political idiotic-savant-simpleton** George W. Bush in 2000), I did not attend the San Francisco-hosted UN World Environment Day; however, I did make it to a couple of the free film screenings yesterday.

Well, I'm off to enjoy the 29th Annual Union Street Festival.

* ENCAMS (Environmental Campaigns) runs the over-arching "Keep Britain Tidy" campaign; the current message, "While You're Down There ...," targets litterbugging youths.
** My apologies to all the idiots, savants and simpletons. You guys deserve a better spokesperson.

tags: art.event.festival.party.ad.marketing.green.environment.politics.sex

Translating Content Out of Context

2005-06-04T01:41:00.000Z

This is an "experimental post" and, so, is a bit different from previous posts -- have a quick read of the entire nonsense rambling below before going to the COMMENT for the decoded entry.

... The experimental blog entry starts here ...
Not too much it has there very long time, my maintenances in line with bloggers AMERAZN and KALLUN states me to think few more, why I favour the translation services of BabelFish of Alta Vista; Google has it must the version possess, perhaps a permitted technology... I do not have the interest to look at it upward. And like that... as reliably is the translation service of BabelFish?

Over this outside to examine I translated these blocks text of English-French at the GERMAN and in conclusion again at the ENGLISHMAN. These blocks text are not, but present on BabelFish very complex to count, over for same affair group or to translate personally, report. I bet that the poetries more bousillées than this simple text; wouldn't it be marvelous, in order to be able to read the odyssey of Homer in its source language? Thank the Shakespeare quality had the foresight to write in English even if it is old English. Perhaps is it, as Engrish came to be in - imperfect translation, which is to due to the lack of semantics and of cultural connection by an algorithm or a loudspeaker of foreign origin English (like me).

It is possible the technology improves, because the work place becomes more different; however it will always need translators and human interpreters there. Not, which is it a protection, but it is probably useful, in order to learn the alphabet stake/phon TIC of the pair of the back doors.

Thus to take which the point of a non reliable translation button ' ' a web page overcrowded by service the main real estates on? Pit... I wanted to be noticed just as internationally sensitively... this fact left my action in so much qu ' idealistic.

In addition entréede truejerseygirl's have, which concerns the taetowierungen, which are to Chinese writing, partially this entrance led (you ensure you that your taetowierung does not translate the "cattle and the Brokkoli").

... the experimental blog entry ends here ...
(now click here and it will all make sense)
This post is dedicated to all the bi-, tri- and poly-linguists who are part of my sidebar's blog parade ... THE DUTCHED PINAY, JAJA, JADEDMANIAC, DIADIMA, STARGAZER, YUDEOLOGY, DANTHERESA, LESTER T, AMERAZN, KALLUN ... anyone else I missed in this round-up?

tags: culture.language.languages.translation.interpretation.communication.business.engrish.english.words

Slow for the Cone Zone

2005-06-03T02:14:00.000Z

A few years ago, I worked for a wonderful manager ("S") who had an orange vest reminiscent of a Caltrans worker; it didn't help that the California Department of Transportation was ubiquitously promoting its safety awareness campaign "Slow for the Cone Zone" during that time. Anyhow, as with any seasoned manager, she was set in her management style and had some hard-and-fast rules that we all had to respect. One of these rules was "Thou shall not miss a meeting, less thy lie in a death bed."

On with the story ... I was driving from an off-site breakfast meeting (read into it what you will) and was stuck behind out-of-town drivers -- they were actually going at the posted speed limit! A word for visitors driving in California: please ignore posted speed limits, they're posted so we can get federal funding*. Knowing that I was going to be late to her weekly meetings, I considered all my options:

Arrive to the meeting late, and hope I've not been assigned any tasks ... I would rather catch the ebola virus.
Call to let her know I was running late ... why not just call and say I was abducted by aliens, that would be more likely.
Get into a car accident, and hope I survive ... thus legitimizing my tardiness.
Call to say I'm taking care of an ailing family member ... almost believable had I not mentioned that I was orphaned** due to the great earthquake of '89.

As usual, time was my enemy and the meeting was to start in less than five minutes, and, even in the best of traffic and driving a decked-out concept car, I was at least half an hour away. I panicked like a MOFO and reached for my bottles of Zoloft, Prozac, Paxil and Buspar***. In a moment of sheer brilliance, a lightbulb light up in my dimming mind on how I to save my budding career.

With minutes before the meeting was to start, I managed to weave traffic and took the first exit to hell. Not knowing the neighborhood, my eyes scanned for the possibilities of a pay-phone; I wasn't a chosen member of the echelon to warrant one and this was before it was chic to issue a cell-phone to every corporate drone. The only pay-phone was in a Jack-in-the-Box parking lot, near the PA drive-thru ordering system.

I dialed into the meeting, and, expecting "S" to be irritated, I blurt out that I had a flat tire. The meeting's discussion of strategic campaigns and tactics was often interrupted with, "Would you like fries with that?" or "No mustard and onions on the burger, is that right?" or "Can you repeat the order please?" There was no way to shield or muffle the PA system or the phone. At the end of the 90-minute meeting, I offered to take orders for those who wanted a late breakfast or early lunch.

That afternoon, with her CSI-like mind, "S" figured that I did not have a flat tire. Later that month, she took me out to lunch and said that my call-in cemented her authority within the company (apparently that story got around). After lunch, she surprised me with a modest gift-certificate to Nordstrom.

I know for a fact that "S" is reading this blog ... she knows my mischievous personality and, if I've offended her, then I'll get an email shortly with the appropriate suggested edits. "S" was the kind of manager that you could really talk to about anything. She was a "manager for the workers" -- much unlike the army of rank-and-file corporate clones that stifle productivity with paperwork and nonsense rules. "S" valued free-thinking and creativity. In my own career development, I reflect on "What would "S" Do?" all the time. My appreciation of her management skills was obvious when I took the course "Leadership Continuum: Behaviors of Managers and Leaders".

*All kidding aside, don't ignore posted speed limits -- CHP (California Highway Patrol) loves pulling people over so they can make quota while cranking out more of those "COPS" shows. Sometimes, as in the case of Rodney King, you can get lucky and cash-in on police brutality, but that's rare. Evidence often "disappear" or are contaminated, and, thus, no case.

**I'm not an orphan, and have never claimed to be one (until now).

***I have never, knowingly, taken any of these.

tags: work.life.business.management.manager.leadership.human resources

Taking to the Air

2005-06-02T07:17:00.000Z

This post is for BLOG of WONDER who is perpetually challenged by airlines pricing system and LOZ's alter ego who has been known to channel Amelia Earhart in her aspiration to learn to fly -- not the same way the colorful parrot or skilled hummingbird might show off acrobatic loops, but more like Leonardo DiCaprio might have had to learn to pilot a plane for his role as Howard Hughes in the 2004 Academy Awards-winning flick "The Aviator".

Having taken a few flying lessons years ago (shy of about 15 flying hours to earn my private pilot license), I wanted to point them to aviation resource and encourage them to spread their wings and take to the air:

A used single-engine plane can be had for between US$150,000 and US$250,000; of course, it can not hurt to swing by eBay to check out the wide selection of pre-loved and new single-engine aircrafts.

To find local flying schools or talk to pilots for private lessons, check out beapilot.com and ipilot.com.

For last minute inspiration while the plane taxis on the tarmacadam, peruse the excellent Women-in-Aviation or Rising-Up resource centers.

Just a thought: perhaps LOZ can get her pilot license in time to air one of Indonesia's Lion Air's newly ordered commercial Boeing 737 airplanes. Hence, she can fly Anthony & Co to an upcoming concert. But of course they'll want to pack their own luggages to be sure marijuana is not accidentally (opposed to purposely) stowed away in their belongings during their layover in Bali.

tags: pilot.airplane.flying.flight

The Intersection of Shakespeare and Astronomy

2005-06-01T18:25:00.000Z

Leading up to the first day of summer, today, I've been re-reading Shakespeare's "A Midsummer's Night Dream" and this passage from Act V, Scene II has imprinted itself onto me.

IMAGE: Joseph Noel Patton, The Quarrel of Oberon and Titania, 1550

OBERON

Now, until the break of day,
Through this house each fairy stray.
To the best bride-bed will we,
Which by us shall blessed be;
And the issue there create
Ever shall be fortunate.
So shall all the couples three
Ever true in loving be;
And the blots of Nature's hand
Shall not in their issue stand;
Never mole, hare-lip, nor scar,
Nor mark prodigious, such as are
Despised in nativity,
Shall upon their children be.
With this field-dew consecrate,
Every fairy take his gait,
And each several chamber bless,
Through this palace, with sweet peace;
And the owner of it blest
Ever shall in safety rest.
Trip away; make no stay;
Meet me all by break of day.

Many of the names of the 27 satellites orbiting the seventh planet from the Sun, Uranus, come from the bard's plays. Characters, sprites and spirits in the heaven and on parchment include Oberon, Titania, Ariel, Miranda, Puck, Portia, Juliet, Cressida, Rosalind, Belinda, Desdemona, Cordelia, Ophelia, Bianca, Caliban, Sycorax, Stephano, Prospero and Setebos.

Uranus is the only planet in our solar system with satellite names not borrowed from mythology. Jupiter's 63(!) moons are named after the Roman god's entourage. Saturn's 46 moons are named after Greek, Norse, Celtic and Inuit mythologies and legends. Earth's solitary Moon has gone by such mythical names as Luna, Cynthia, Selene, Diana and Hecate.

... meet me all by break of day.

tags: shakespeare.reading.summer.literature.science.astronomy