How is it possible that it takes me almost 2 whole days to get from Casablanca to my site but right around 36 hours to get from Casablanca to Buenos Aires? And that’s with a generous layover partway there. Let me tell ya something, I didn’t expect to realize that I had taken ease of travel for granted! This has been one of the most insistent realizations though. Pretty much no matter how I spin it, it takes darn close to 6 hours (if I am lucky) to get to the nearest big city, and almost 24 hours to make it to the Atlantic Coast. 24 hours on the way out that is. It’s at least 36 hours in the other direction, if not nearly 48. It’s funny, because it really isn’t that far if you calculate the kilometers/miles. It just the transportation system. Either you take grand taxis (downside: you have to switch in each city most times, so sometimes you get stuck partway) or the suq bus (stops at every small town on the way, dramatically lengthening the trip) or a transit van (same problem as suq bus) or the train/high-end bus (expensive and only available in big cities).
Thus, traveling takes a while, and you never can predict what is going to happen. Once, the taxi I was in got stuck in 2 foot deep dust. It was supposed to be a short cut ("short cuts make long delays," anyone?) but the driver slowed way down before heading off road. ‘Keep going!’ I thought. Nope. He slowed waaaay down. So that our previous copious inertia was reduced to zip, and instead of scooting over the dust, we just sunk straight into it. It’s a habit of drivers here to slow waaaay down whenever they go over a bump or rough terrain. Good for the shocks I guess but makes you way more likely to get stuck. We spent a good 10 minutes revving the engine and spinning wheels (ie. sinking deeper in the dust). A kind transit driver stopped by, and attempted to pull us out with a very light weight rope. It broke. Twice. Then another vehicle got stuck nearby attempting to go around us. A bus went by to my destination… I contemplated jumping ship… er… taxi. Another truck came along with a chain (‘Ah ha! I thought. ‘Now we are getting somewhere!’) With difficulty we found a place to hook it on, positioned the truck, stuffed dead bushes under the taxis wheels and all the men got over there and pushed. (Yes, I tried to help, too) And, with a bit of spinning of wheels and a LOT of flying dust, we were free.
Or all that flooding washing out the road, and I had to get out and hike 5 km to meet another transit.
Or the time(s) I said, forget transit, I will take my bike and carry it across all the wash out zones.
Or the time I got stuck in Sefrou and had to stay with a Moroccan family overnight.
Or the time I got stuck between four carsick people, all vomiting at the same time. Good thing I don’t get carsick! Actually, it was pretty funny, because I had my kittens with me, too, and at that exact moment when I and the transit conductor were both realizing I was surrounded by vomiting on all sides my kittens started making a racket trying to escape (who can blame them?). The guys were like, "her cats are sick too!!" and we all laughed.
Or the sheep, goats, chickens, bags of flour, crates of grapes, blocks of cement, Tvs, beds… everything… that get packed into the transits with people.
Yup, transport is an adventure. I know volunteers who have even made a game of it, see who can find the most creative transport method from point A to point B. Any method will do… makes for good stories.
Nope, that’s right. Never a dull moment!
Monday, December 8, 2008
Religion Revisited... first real December post
Religion Revisited 01-12-08
On my way back from Thanksgiving with my family, I stopped in Fez to recover. At that point I had been traveling for about 38 hours straight… so I got a hotel near an area I know pretty well, and spent some time wandering the streets through the cold rain and more time chillin’ in the neat place called CafeClock. It’s a place where expats, students both foreign and domestic, and occasionally PCVs mix. They have good food, decent drinks, a cool culture of art display and (most importantly!) free wireless internet! So I came in, and found an open couch in the library area, and set up. A little while later two Moroccan-looking women came in and greeted the woman sitting next to me, and then commenced to speaking in excellent English! It turns out one of those two "Moroccan-looking" women was a cultural British ethnic Pakistani taking some time out of her teaching career to learn Arabic and immerse herself in a Muslim culture.
Now, all three of these women are well educated, intelligent, motivated, and religious people. So they started chatting about this, and that, and then the conversation moved to religion. Different experiences they have had, lessons they have learned, methods of prayer and worship they have tried… I am NOT used to listening in on these conversations! It was amazing!!! It was also a kind of trippy experience, because the way they were talking, even many of the lessons they had learned about God and about themselves were so very, VERY similar to what it sounds like when I get together with my close girlfriends who care as much about following Jesus as I do. Like, learning the benefits of repentance, or the beauty of certain prayers, or how difficult it is to balance modern life with religious life, or how frustrating it is when people of religious conviction use religion to continue to keep women "under control." I sat there listening for a very long time, an hour at least, and then finally screwed up the courage to say something about all these thoughts. I had chimed in here and there before, but it took me a while to chime in on the religious conversations.
And they were so understanding, welcoming, and pleased that I was joining in. I remember one of them saying, "well, of course this reminds you of your religion, for it is said ‘there are many roses, but only one water source.’" Which I still think is very beautiful. Forget for a moment all the debates about who is saved and who isn’t (I am SO glad I am not God and don’t have to make decisions like that!!), it was amazing to find this common ground with these young women, and to have that conversation. So often here, I feel isolated, just as that British woman feels surrounded and edified, by the religious life here. And I wonder if she feels like that in England??… maybe, but the general public here are far, far more religious than the general public in any other country I have been in. Secondly, it was amazing to get the educated feminine perspective on religion here. There are one, maybe two other women in my village who have been to college in my village. One is the doctor at the clinic and the other is nurse at the clinic. So often all I get for my questions here is "because God wants," or "because God doesn’t want" for an answer. And to just hear these women engaging their religion emotionally, spiritually AND intellectually was a huge, huge breath of fresh air. And made me take a step back from what I had been thinking. I admit it, I had been just about fed up with this seemingly close-minded, insistent, rule-heavy religion. And here, for once I found the fabled tolerance, devotion and thoughtfulness I had heard of. So, l-Hamdulillah (Thanks be to God) for the opportunity to meet those remarkable women!
On my way back from Thanksgiving with my family, I stopped in Fez to recover. At that point I had been traveling for about 38 hours straight… so I got a hotel near an area I know pretty well, and spent some time wandering the streets through the cold rain and more time chillin’ in the neat place called CafeClock. It’s a place where expats, students both foreign and domestic, and occasionally PCVs mix. They have good food, decent drinks, a cool culture of art display and (most importantly!) free wireless internet! So I came in, and found an open couch in the library area, and set up. A little while later two Moroccan-looking women came in and greeted the woman sitting next to me, and then commenced to speaking in excellent English! It turns out one of those two "Moroccan-looking" women was a cultural British ethnic Pakistani taking some time out of her teaching career to learn Arabic and immerse herself in a Muslim culture.
Now, all three of these women are well educated, intelligent, motivated, and religious people. So they started chatting about this, and that, and then the conversation moved to religion. Different experiences they have had, lessons they have learned, methods of prayer and worship they have tried… I am NOT used to listening in on these conversations! It was amazing!!! It was also a kind of trippy experience, because the way they were talking, even many of the lessons they had learned about God and about themselves were so very, VERY similar to what it sounds like when I get together with my close girlfriends who care as much about following Jesus as I do. Like, learning the benefits of repentance, or the beauty of certain prayers, or how difficult it is to balance modern life with religious life, or how frustrating it is when people of religious conviction use religion to continue to keep women "under control." I sat there listening for a very long time, an hour at least, and then finally screwed up the courage to say something about all these thoughts. I had chimed in here and there before, but it took me a while to chime in on the religious conversations.
And they were so understanding, welcoming, and pleased that I was joining in. I remember one of them saying, "well, of course this reminds you of your religion, for it is said ‘there are many roses, but only one water source.’" Which I still think is very beautiful. Forget for a moment all the debates about who is saved and who isn’t (I am SO glad I am not God and don’t have to make decisions like that!!), it was amazing to find this common ground with these young women, and to have that conversation. So often here, I feel isolated, just as that British woman feels surrounded and edified, by the religious life here. And I wonder if she feels like that in England??… maybe, but the general public here are far, far more religious than the general public in any other country I have been in. Secondly, it was amazing to get the educated feminine perspective on religion here. There are one, maybe two other women in my village who have been to college in my village. One is the doctor at the clinic and the other is nurse at the clinic. So often all I get for my questions here is "because God wants," or "because God doesn’t want" for an answer. And to just hear these women engaging their religion emotionally, spiritually AND intellectually was a huge, huge breath of fresh air. And made me take a step back from what I had been thinking. I admit it, I had been just about fed up with this seemingly close-minded, insistent, rule-heavy religion. And here, for once I found the fabled tolerance, devotion and thoughtfulness I had heard of. So, l-Hamdulillah (Thanks be to God) for the opportunity to meet those remarkable women!
Books I have been reading and the thoughts they inspire
A Generous Orthodoxy. Hmmm.
I’m reading a book called A Generous Orthodoxy. It’s good, I recommend it so far, to just about anyone. Just buckle up and be prepared for a very cerebral look at faith. Which is cool, because I just read a different book that approached faith from a very different angle. Mysticism and experience. Eat, Pray, Love was the name of the second book, and I thoroughly enjoyed it! Both of these books happen to be a part of some things I’ve been thinking about.
First off, let me say, I have yet to be convinced by any of the arguments presented to me intending to convert me to Islam.
However, I’m curious. I’m looking around me and trying to learn from my neighbors, both American and Moroccan. Plus, faith is practiced differently for me here. No weekly communal worship, very little in the way of singing. It was an emtional experience to listen to the recording of "Jesus Christ is Risen Today" by the Trinity College Choir, complete with amazing organ music. Just to remember that I am not, in fact, the only Christian/Jesus-follower left on the face of the planet.
But!! This is not all bad! I’m being forced to make this work, just me and my God, and that is a good thing. So, my prayer now includes Yoga, because it focuses me in the present, which is a good place to pray from. I am slowly working my way through the Bible, front to back. And there is, actually a church in Ifrane, a mere 6 hours away. I hope to go sometime in the relatively near future.
All of this has been a bit toungue in cheek, but I am quite serious about all this. Praying gets me through the day. Yoga gets my day started right, and so does reading the Bible. Meditating on 2 Timothy 1:5-7 (-ish) motivates me. "For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but of love and of power and of self-discipline." So when I’m afraid to call a meeting because I don’t know… so many things… I remember that. I am not to be afraid, because of the spirit that was given me. I just have to live in that spirit. (Just? Yeaah… it’s not easy always… not in America and not here either) And I remember that all I really have to worry about now is the next step. The one after that comes after this one, so I won’t really know what it is anyway until I take the step that’s right in front of me so I might as well take it and see what happens. Hell, I came here to take chances! So take ‘em already!!
So, a generous orthodoxy… well, I got sidetracked, but a generous orthodoxy is a cool book. It’s got stuff on all sorts of different Christian denominations and talks about the strengths of each. It also talks about the current downfalls of the church, and he doesn’t pull his punches. For all those out there who died a little inside every time certain political leaders professed their faith brazenly, this is a breath of fresh air. And as for the other book, well it’s about healing. From the heart, in a place of openness and freedom. Freedom to practice devotion in whatever way comes sincerely from the heart. And that, too, is a breath of fresh air. Perhaps especially here, in a place of tradition that guides and encloses. Not always in a bad way, but not always in a good way either. So yeah, I’d recommend either book, and if you do read it, please DO share your thoughts with me. I love talkin’ about this stuff! By whichever modes of communication I find available to me. J
I’m reading a book called A Generous Orthodoxy. It’s good, I recommend it so far, to just about anyone. Just buckle up and be prepared for a very cerebral look at faith. Which is cool, because I just read a different book that approached faith from a very different angle. Mysticism and experience. Eat, Pray, Love was the name of the second book, and I thoroughly enjoyed it! Both of these books happen to be a part of some things I’ve been thinking about.
First off, let me say, I have yet to be convinced by any of the arguments presented to me intending to convert me to Islam.
However, I’m curious. I’m looking around me and trying to learn from my neighbors, both American and Moroccan. Plus, faith is practiced differently for me here. No weekly communal worship, very little in the way of singing. It was an emtional experience to listen to the recording of "Jesus Christ is Risen Today" by the Trinity College Choir, complete with amazing organ music. Just to remember that I am not, in fact, the only Christian/Jesus-follower left on the face of the planet.
But!! This is not all bad! I’m being forced to make this work, just me and my God, and that is a good thing. So, my prayer now includes Yoga, because it focuses me in the present, which is a good place to pray from. I am slowly working my way through the Bible, front to back. And there is, actually a church in Ifrane, a mere 6 hours away. I hope to go sometime in the relatively near future.
All of this has been a bit toungue in cheek, but I am quite serious about all this. Praying gets me through the day. Yoga gets my day started right, and so does reading the Bible. Meditating on 2 Timothy 1:5-7 (-ish) motivates me. "For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but of love and of power and of self-discipline." So when I’m afraid to call a meeting because I don’t know… so many things… I remember that. I am not to be afraid, because of the spirit that was given me. I just have to live in that spirit. (Just? Yeaah… it’s not easy always… not in America and not here either) And I remember that all I really have to worry about now is the next step. The one after that comes after this one, so I won’t really know what it is anyway until I take the step that’s right in front of me so I might as well take it and see what happens. Hell, I came here to take chances! So take ‘em already!!
So, a generous orthodoxy… well, I got sidetracked, but a generous orthodoxy is a cool book. It’s got stuff on all sorts of different Christian denominations and talks about the strengths of each. It also talks about the current downfalls of the church, and he doesn’t pull his punches. For all those out there who died a little inside every time certain political leaders professed their faith brazenly, this is a breath of fresh air. And as for the other book, well it’s about healing. From the heart, in a place of openness and freedom. Freedom to practice devotion in whatever way comes sincerely from the heart. And that, too, is a breath of fresh air. Perhaps especially here, in a place of tradition that guides and encloses. Not always in a bad way, but not always in a good way either. So yeah, I’d recommend either book, and if you do read it, please DO share your thoughts with me. I love talkin’ about this stuff! By whichever modes of communication I find available to me. J
Fun with Knives
Fun with Knives
16.11.08
Actually, I’m kind of surprised I hadn’t done it before. Slice my finger open, that is. See, there aren’t really cutting boards here. So, when I was helping my host mothers prepare dinner, it’s just our hands, the veggies, and a knife. Sometimes terribly dull, sometimes very, very sharp. And this includes vegetables like carrots and onions and tomatoes. There are some different techniques that I learned to avoid cutting myself, and they worked while I was living with my host family, and cutting veggies the Moroccan way. For example: when chopping an onion, hold the onion in the palm of one hand and chop it up, but don’t go all the way through. Then slice through the now pre-cubed onion. Pretty slick, right? Peeling tomatoes is tricky. Yes, I said peeling tomatoes. Moroccans (or at least Berbers in the two regions where I have lived) have a strong predilection to peeled vegetables. So, not only carrots, turnips and potatoes are peeled, but tomatoes and cucumbers, too. I believe this may have something to do with the general lack of teeth often observed… but who knows! So, to peel a tomato, you really do want a sharp knife, because a dull one just can’t make it through the skin. But you can make do by stabbing the point of the knife in to make an entrance and then pull of the skin from there.
But tonight I was chopping veggies American style, that is, using a plastic plate as a cutting board. And I was chopping fast, thinking about other things, and then I felt my knife hit my thumb tip. No pain, not yet. Too sharp of a blade and too fast moving. My nerves felt mostly the pressure. And there I am halfway through a soup recipe with my thumb. As I want to eat dinner, I keep cooking, and administer first aid to myself at the same time. Hopefully no blood got in the soup, but I guess it doesn’t really matter since only I am eating it anyway… somehow the soup got cooked, and my thumb was washed, allowed to stop bleeding and bandaged all at the same time. The soup turned out well, but the beans still aren’t quite done. I haven’t mastered beans yet. But the real miracle is that I didn’t take off another patch of skin at least while making first aid white bean soup. J
16.11.08
Actually, I’m kind of surprised I hadn’t done it before. Slice my finger open, that is. See, there aren’t really cutting boards here. So, when I was helping my host mothers prepare dinner, it’s just our hands, the veggies, and a knife. Sometimes terribly dull, sometimes very, very sharp. And this includes vegetables like carrots and onions and tomatoes. There are some different techniques that I learned to avoid cutting myself, and they worked while I was living with my host family, and cutting veggies the Moroccan way. For example: when chopping an onion, hold the onion in the palm of one hand and chop it up, but don’t go all the way through. Then slice through the now pre-cubed onion. Pretty slick, right? Peeling tomatoes is tricky. Yes, I said peeling tomatoes. Moroccans (or at least Berbers in the two regions where I have lived) have a strong predilection to peeled vegetables. So, not only carrots, turnips and potatoes are peeled, but tomatoes and cucumbers, too. I believe this may have something to do with the general lack of teeth often observed… but who knows! So, to peel a tomato, you really do want a sharp knife, because a dull one just can’t make it through the skin. But you can make do by stabbing the point of the knife in to make an entrance and then pull of the skin from there.
But tonight I was chopping veggies American style, that is, using a plastic plate as a cutting board. And I was chopping fast, thinking about other things, and then I felt my knife hit my thumb tip. No pain, not yet. Too sharp of a blade and too fast moving. My nerves felt mostly the pressure. And there I am halfway through a soup recipe with my thumb. As I want to eat dinner, I keep cooking, and administer first aid to myself at the same time. Hopefully no blood got in the soup, but I guess it doesn’t really matter since only I am eating it anyway… somehow the soup got cooked, and my thumb was washed, allowed to stop bleeding and bandaged all at the same time. The soup turned out well, but the beans still aren’t quite done. I haven’t mastered beans yet. But the real miracle is that I didn’t take off another patch of skin at least while making first aid white bean soup. J
Games Children Play
Games Children Play 15 November 2008
Ever watched children play with nothing but trash and rocks and love it? Well, I remember doing it as a kid, and I know that my friends did but I bet that is a sight increasingly rare in the suburbs of the US of A.
Anyway, I know for a fact that I was nowhere near as creative with my rock and trash games as the kids here are. Or, perhaps, some of the rock and trash games have been ‘tidied up’ over the years. For example: every child and woman (and probably men, too) knows how to play a complicated version of jacks. Find 5 small rocks and toss them up and try to catch them all on the back of your hand. How many you catch determines how many you have to pick up each time you attempt once you put all the rocks but one on the ground. You toss one rock into the air, scoop up a certain number of rocks and then catch the first rock on its way down. Or something like this… I still don’t get it entirely. They play hopscotch, too, but they call it meetch. It goes like this: scratch out the grid on the ground with a stick (there are two main shapes) and then throw a rock to a specific square and hop everywhere but there, and then come back, but pick up the rock with one hand on your way. And the ever popular mud-pies… sardine cans, some of mom’s baby celery, bottle caps, dirt, rocks = lunch!! And the most impressive of all: trash fastened together properly makes an awesome car for boys. You can even steer it if you attach a long stick to the front axle. Neat, huh?
And then there’s rock paper scissors. Yup, that’s right, it’s here, too! Only the kids say "Siss, boom, bah!" and then they shoot. I think the general method is to have the whole group throw down, and the losers step out, and then the winners go again. If there are ties, then they go against each other specifically. Or so it seems… I love rock paper scissors… as a decision making method between people it’s great. Definite and entertaining decision-making! If only I could play rock paper scissors with myself effectively…
Ever watched children play with nothing but trash and rocks and love it? Well, I remember doing it as a kid, and I know that my friends did but I bet that is a sight increasingly rare in the suburbs of the US of A.
Anyway, I know for a fact that I was nowhere near as creative with my rock and trash games as the kids here are. Or, perhaps, some of the rock and trash games have been ‘tidied up’ over the years. For example: every child and woman (and probably men, too) knows how to play a complicated version of jacks. Find 5 small rocks and toss them up and try to catch them all on the back of your hand. How many you catch determines how many you have to pick up each time you attempt once you put all the rocks but one on the ground. You toss one rock into the air, scoop up a certain number of rocks and then catch the first rock on its way down. Or something like this… I still don’t get it entirely. They play hopscotch, too, but they call it meetch. It goes like this: scratch out the grid on the ground with a stick (there are two main shapes) and then throw a rock to a specific square and hop everywhere but there, and then come back, but pick up the rock with one hand on your way. And the ever popular mud-pies… sardine cans, some of mom’s baby celery, bottle caps, dirt, rocks = lunch!! And the most impressive of all: trash fastened together properly makes an awesome car for boys. You can even steer it if you attach a long stick to the front axle. Neat, huh?
And then there’s rock paper scissors. Yup, that’s right, it’s here, too! Only the kids say "Siss, boom, bah!" and then they shoot. I think the general method is to have the whole group throw down, and the losers step out, and then the winners go again. If there are ties, then they go against each other specifically. Or so it seems… I love rock paper scissors… as a decision making method between people it’s great. Definite and entertaining decision-making! If only I could play rock paper scissors with myself effectively…
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