"Universal" Things
**this list will grow, too
--Paper, rock, Scissors (used to make decisions the world round)
--Jacks. Only you play with little rocks here instead of jacks and a bouncy ball
--Boys throw rocks at things.
--House flies.
--Barn flies.
--Biting flies.
--Women fix up their hair to go out. Here that means putting on a slightly nicer veil/scarf. For me it means making sure I don’t look like a fool.
--Sugar. In huge volumes.
--Mothers worry.
--Drum circles.
--Dancing. In some places it happens in gender segregated rooms though.
--Grandmothers/older women tell young women to put on more clothes/different clothes.
--People like cold water.
--Homemade popsicles.
Monday, July 14, 2008
favorite quotes 1
9 July 2008
Favorite Quotes:
**this list will grow as time goes on. Underlined things are book titles. I’ll put the author if I know it. Some quotes are from PCVs. Some are literature. Some are funny. Some are serious, and some are there just because the writing is so flippin’ beautiful.
1 "The grass is rich and matted, you cannot see the soil. It holds the rain and the mist, and they seep into the ground feeding the streams in every kloof. It is well-tended and not too many cattle feed upon it; not too may fires burn it, laying bare the soil. Stand unshod upon it, for the ground is holy, being even as it came from the Creator. Keep it, guard it, care for it, for it keeps men, guards men, cares for men. Destroy it and man is destroyed." -Cry the Beloved Country
2 "Later that summer, as rain fell, such a moment shimmered and paused on the brink, and then began the ancient dance of numbers: two, four, eight, sixteen, thirty-two, and a new life took root and began to grow. And thus the generations past were joined to the unknowable future." -The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russel
3 " ‘So God just leaves? Abandons creation? You’re on your own, apes. Good luck! (speaker 1)’ ‘No. He watches. He rejoices. He weeps. He observes the moral drama of human life and gives meaning to it by caring passionately about us, and remembering. (speaker 2)’ ‘Matthew ten, verse twenty-nine: not one sparrow can fall to the ground without your Father knowing about it. (speaker 3)’ ‘But the sparrow still falls. (speaker 2)’" –The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russel *I would add to this a bit… ask me if you care to know.
4 "Do you know the word for ‘clipboard’?" "No. What is it?" "Here let me explain it for you. It’s like a board with a clip… err… um…" -the very earnest Logan
5 "And now for something completely different: Morocco." –advertisement seen on the plane to Rabat from New York City.
6 "I went to the Post Office today. It was awesome!" –the unflappable Jake
7 "Why does George Bush not like democracy?" –an earnest question asked by a young man in my village, translated from Tamazight… sweet, sweet irony
8 "Oxford is excavating a Paleolithic settlement at my site, 500 ft. from my house. Ahhhhh!" –text message from Jonathan, who is an archeologist by training
9 "In our sleep, pain which cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, until, in our own despair, against our sill, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God." -Aeschylus
10 "Would you practice what you preach, would you turn the other cheek? Father, Father, Father help us; send some guidance from above. Oh, you know you got me questionin’, where is the love, the love, the love?" --a great song whose title I don’t know
Favorite Quotes:
**this list will grow as time goes on. Underlined things are book titles. I’ll put the author if I know it. Some quotes are from PCVs. Some are literature. Some are funny. Some are serious, and some are there just because the writing is so flippin’ beautiful.
1 "The grass is rich and matted, you cannot see the soil. It holds the rain and the mist, and they seep into the ground feeding the streams in every kloof. It is well-tended and not too many cattle feed upon it; not too may fires burn it, laying bare the soil. Stand unshod upon it, for the ground is holy, being even as it came from the Creator. Keep it, guard it, care for it, for it keeps men, guards men, cares for men. Destroy it and man is destroyed." -Cry the Beloved Country
2 "Later that summer, as rain fell, such a moment shimmered and paused on the brink, and then began the ancient dance of numbers: two, four, eight, sixteen, thirty-two, and a new life took root and began to grow. And thus the generations past were joined to the unknowable future." -The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russel
3 " ‘So God just leaves? Abandons creation? You’re on your own, apes. Good luck! (speaker 1)’ ‘No. He watches. He rejoices. He weeps. He observes the moral drama of human life and gives meaning to it by caring passionately about us, and remembering. (speaker 2)’ ‘Matthew ten, verse twenty-nine: not one sparrow can fall to the ground without your Father knowing about it. (speaker 3)’ ‘But the sparrow still falls. (speaker 2)’" –The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russel *I would add to this a bit… ask me if you care to know.
4 "Do you know the word for ‘clipboard’?" "No. What is it?" "Here let me explain it for you. It’s like a board with a clip… err… um…" -the very earnest Logan
5 "And now for something completely different: Morocco." –advertisement seen on the plane to Rabat from New York City.
6 "I went to the Post Office today. It was awesome!" –the unflappable Jake
7 "Why does George Bush not like democracy?" –an earnest question asked by a young man in my village, translated from Tamazight… sweet, sweet irony
8 "Oxford is excavating a Paleolithic settlement at my site, 500 ft. from my house. Ahhhhh!" –text message from Jonathan, who is an archeologist by training
9 "In our sleep, pain which cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, until, in our own despair, against our sill, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God." -Aeschylus
10 "Would you practice what you preach, would you turn the other cheek? Father, Father, Father help us; send some guidance from above. Oh, you know you got me questionin’, where is the love, the love, the love?" --a great song whose title I don’t know
June 25
27 June 2006
Wheat Harvesting Part II
So, I believe I previously wrote about the wheat harvest. Well, that was only part one. The wheat was cut by hand from the fields and carried by hand/mule/donkey to the families designated wheat drying place. Upon closer examination, I noticed that a lot of these wheat drying places are semi-circular flat bits of ground set back into the hillside. I had been seeing these circular bits and other random seeming structures before and wondered about them, but now all is clear. Well, not quite all, but you know what I mean. J
About a week ago, I noticed a strange humming noise, and some odd lights on one side of the village that I hadn’t noticed before. I asked about them but didn’t really understand the answer. But the humming (akin to the noise a snow-machine makes) continued, and the lights moved closer each night, so in a couple of days I had my answer. Three tractors pulling three wheat chopping/threshing/separating machines had come to town. These machines are from Turkey, and they are named Super Istanbul. Each family was being given a 2 or so hour slot of time, and then the entire family turns out to get the wheat into the machine, carry the wheat kernels away in 50 kg bags, and then carry the chaff away in HUGE bags. Depending on the family, some families had to carry their wheat to the machine and chop it on the road with big mats strung up to minimize the amount of chaff blown away. Others simply had the machine driven up to their harvest circle, and the chaff was blown into the high side, and caught by the stonewall there.
I went to go watch and help a little but soon enough it was our turn and I got some first hand experience. Getting the machine up the hill to our circle… obstacle one, made difficult by the fact that the road up to the circle is made up of loose rocks. Then, loading the wheat into the machine… hot wind and sun making the scene veiled in golden dust that magically turns your face black. I noticed some of the sheafs of wheat had mold growing on them… too much rain and not spread out well enough, I guess. It’s a frenetic pace. The machine chops fast so we hurried to keep up on both ends, bagging the wheat kernels and feeding the sheafs in. In an hour or so, the machine is done, and the drivers take it away to the next family. Leaving us to carry away the chaff (la3lun) and the bags of wheat. The cycle of family to family began each day before 6 am and ended around midnight. Families don’t necessarily work alone: friends and neighbors and extended family help out too. Those who help out can expect to have dinner provided for them by the people they helped. I benefited from that the day after my family got their wheat harvest taken care of. I had some of the best couscous I have yet had. Heavy on the black pepper, with turnips and chicken. Simple but delicious!
Also had a fascinating conversation about politics after that meal. It was begun by a trick lighter that actually casts out a color picture of Osama bin Ladin. I couldn’t stop laughing… so ridiculous! I kept thinking, I found Osama! He’s been hiding in a flashlight this whole time! The funny thing is that the brika (lighter) belongs to my sister, but she had no idea the political significance of the thing until a cousin explained it. Which helped her to understand my laughter a bit.
Wheat Harvesting Part II
So, I believe I previously wrote about the wheat harvest. Well, that was only part one. The wheat was cut by hand from the fields and carried by hand/mule/donkey to the families designated wheat drying place. Upon closer examination, I noticed that a lot of these wheat drying places are semi-circular flat bits of ground set back into the hillside. I had been seeing these circular bits and other random seeming structures before and wondered about them, but now all is clear. Well, not quite all, but you know what I mean. J
About a week ago, I noticed a strange humming noise, and some odd lights on one side of the village that I hadn’t noticed before. I asked about them but didn’t really understand the answer. But the humming (akin to the noise a snow-machine makes) continued, and the lights moved closer each night, so in a couple of days I had my answer. Three tractors pulling three wheat chopping/threshing/separating machines had come to town. These machines are from Turkey, and they are named Super Istanbul. Each family was being given a 2 or so hour slot of time, and then the entire family turns out to get the wheat into the machine, carry the wheat kernels away in 50 kg bags, and then carry the chaff away in HUGE bags. Depending on the family, some families had to carry their wheat to the machine and chop it on the road with big mats strung up to minimize the amount of chaff blown away. Others simply had the machine driven up to their harvest circle, and the chaff was blown into the high side, and caught by the stonewall there.
I went to go watch and help a little but soon enough it was our turn and I got some first hand experience. Getting the machine up the hill to our circle… obstacle one, made difficult by the fact that the road up to the circle is made up of loose rocks. Then, loading the wheat into the machine… hot wind and sun making the scene veiled in golden dust that magically turns your face black. I noticed some of the sheafs of wheat had mold growing on them… too much rain and not spread out well enough, I guess. It’s a frenetic pace. The machine chops fast so we hurried to keep up on both ends, bagging the wheat kernels and feeding the sheafs in. In an hour or so, the machine is done, and the drivers take it away to the next family. Leaving us to carry away the chaff (la3lun) and the bags of wheat. The cycle of family to family began each day before 6 am and ended around midnight. Families don’t necessarily work alone: friends and neighbors and extended family help out too. Those who help out can expect to have dinner provided for them by the people they helped. I benefited from that the day after my family got their wheat harvest taken care of. I had some of the best couscous I have yet had. Heavy on the black pepper, with turnips and chicken. Simple but delicious!
Also had a fascinating conversation about politics after that meal. It was begun by a trick lighter that actually casts out a color picture of Osama bin Ladin. I couldn’t stop laughing… so ridiculous! I kept thinking, I found Osama! He’s been hiding in a flashlight this whole time! The funny thing is that the brika (lighter) belongs to my sister, but she had no idea the political significance of the thing until a cousin explained it. Which helped her to understand my laughter a bit.
of stress
3 July 2008
I think it’s time I wrote a little bit about the stress of this whole deal. It’s huge. But it’s tiny all at the same time. "Death by a thousand slices," as my dad says. The funny thing is, I didn’t even realize how stressed I was until the doctor called me on it. Well, she introduced the idea that my seemingly never-ending gastrointestinal issues may be caused by poorly handled stress being internalized. I thought, no way! I mean, I’m a Macalester grad. We thrive on stress. Or maybe that’s just what we thought and we were just fooling ourselves… seemed to work fine then. Anyway, suffice it to say, my stress has never manifested itself in my intestines before. Be that as it may, the thought stuck with me, so I re-evaluated. And discovered that I am, at times, as stressed as I ever have been. Now, before you panic, all my moms, hear me out. J Realizing that you are stressed is a good thing! It means I can take measures against it. Like allowing myself more sleep, more chocolate, and giving myself permission to draw necessary boundaries, and reminding myself of the importance of being disciplined in time management and prayer time.
What exactly is the deal? Well, one big thing is the time change. The Moroccan government decided to put the country on Daylight Savings time. So, for the first time in some 17 or so years, the official Moroccan clock moved an hour ahead. However, since the vast majority of rural Moroccans never worried about official time much in the first place, what happened was that everything happens at the same time it did before, but that clock reads an hour later. So dinner, late for me at 11pm before is now VERY late at 12 am. Give or take a half hour.
Other things are cultural… and health related (having your GI health fluctuate every couple of days is stressful!)… and I do miss all of you at home (although I’ve realized that there is no one place, not even one state in the US, not even one country! where I can be close to everyone I love/care about)… and it is harder being spiritually isolated this time around… because religion is such a huge part of this culture, and I am accustomed to being a part of the religious culture wherever I am. When I was in Tanzania, I found a church home. Except in the field but that was only a month and anyway I had GREAT friends who would talk to me and listen to me talk about religion, faith, etc. (I appreciate you so much more right now Susie and Leigh…). At Mac and at home I had wonderful church/spiritual families (you know who you are!). So between all that…
That’s that deal. Word from the older PCVs is that homestay is the hardest part of service—and I can’t say how much I am looking forward to eating dinner at 9:30 at night (or even earlier… hee hee) again in my own place in about a month—so that’s good to know. I have also recently learned that in many countries, PCVs live with host families for the whole two years. All you out there that do that have my undying respect. It’s not that host families are bad people… no, it’s just that it’s really different. We were independent, Western adults, and now we are feeling like teenagers in a new culture. We push for freedom, we want to control when we eat, sleep and what we do with our days. And our host families want us safe and for us to behave according to their culture. See the conflict? It’s just hard. Period. Even for me, and I have possibly the best host family ever. So I eat chocolate, am learning yoga and pilates, and take naps and pray. Which is actually the thing that helps the most in a tight spot. J
I think it’s time I wrote a little bit about the stress of this whole deal. It’s huge. But it’s tiny all at the same time. "Death by a thousand slices," as my dad says. The funny thing is, I didn’t even realize how stressed I was until the doctor called me on it. Well, she introduced the idea that my seemingly never-ending gastrointestinal issues may be caused by poorly handled stress being internalized. I thought, no way! I mean, I’m a Macalester grad. We thrive on stress. Or maybe that’s just what we thought and we were just fooling ourselves… seemed to work fine then. Anyway, suffice it to say, my stress has never manifested itself in my intestines before. Be that as it may, the thought stuck with me, so I re-evaluated. And discovered that I am, at times, as stressed as I ever have been. Now, before you panic, all my moms, hear me out. J Realizing that you are stressed is a good thing! It means I can take measures against it. Like allowing myself more sleep, more chocolate, and giving myself permission to draw necessary boundaries, and reminding myself of the importance of being disciplined in time management and prayer time.
What exactly is the deal? Well, one big thing is the time change. The Moroccan government decided to put the country on Daylight Savings time. So, for the first time in some 17 or so years, the official Moroccan clock moved an hour ahead. However, since the vast majority of rural Moroccans never worried about official time much in the first place, what happened was that everything happens at the same time it did before, but that clock reads an hour later. So dinner, late for me at 11pm before is now VERY late at 12 am. Give or take a half hour.
Other things are cultural… and health related (having your GI health fluctuate every couple of days is stressful!)… and I do miss all of you at home (although I’ve realized that there is no one place, not even one state in the US, not even one country! where I can be close to everyone I love/care about)… and it is harder being spiritually isolated this time around… because religion is such a huge part of this culture, and I am accustomed to being a part of the religious culture wherever I am. When I was in Tanzania, I found a church home. Except in the field but that was only a month and anyway I had GREAT friends who would talk to me and listen to me talk about religion, faith, etc. (I appreciate you so much more right now Susie and Leigh…). At Mac and at home I had wonderful church/spiritual families (you know who you are!). So between all that…
That’s that deal. Word from the older PCVs is that homestay is the hardest part of service—and I can’t say how much I am looking forward to eating dinner at 9:30 at night (or even earlier… hee hee) again in my own place in about a month—so that’s good to know. I have also recently learned that in many countries, PCVs live with host families for the whole two years. All you out there that do that have my undying respect. It’s not that host families are bad people… no, it’s just that it’s really different. We were independent, Western adults, and now we are feeling like teenagers in a new culture. We push for freedom, we want to control when we eat, sleep and what we do with our days. And our host families want us safe and for us to behave according to their culture. See the conflict? It’s just hard. Period. Even for me, and I have possibly the best host family ever. So I eat chocolate, am learning yoga and pilates, and take naps and pray. Which is actually the thing that helps the most in a tight spot. J
pictures 2
picture of Ouled Ali village
View of the valley from Beni Hassan
Can you find me in the first picture? Look for the obnoxiously orange bandana that I have come to love.
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