yup, that title is an analogy. I chalk the nerdiness up to my nostalgia for English, and i refuse to apologize. moving on.

I am really living on the edge at the moment… I’m putting faith in this computer, in this small internet cafe in my souq town with the astronomically high hopes that it will not spastically delete this masterpiece of updating i’m attempting to concoct. The only benefit I can glean from this situation is that, should someone decide that this post is too unfocused or lacks interesting detail, I could always claim that there was a better version that was deleted, and what you are now reading is it’s poor, slapped-together doppleganger, written in the heat of frustration and depression following an inevitable computer crash. Which draft are you reading now? i’ll never tell.

Revisiting my post title, having owned up to my loser-ness, the second half is how i would classify my last two weeks at my permanent site. My host family is wonderful, and i have very quickly cultivated a feeling of “hominess” in their small stone home with an abundance of pillows, blankets, freshly baked bread and oranges. I mean, who wouldn’t? but the really rewarding aspect of my last few days is feeling like i’m getting my feet on the ground a bit more. After months of moving around so often, and living out of a backpack, it’s nice to know that the investment i’m making in current relationships matters, and is not about to be severed by another cross-country assignment shift.

The only glitch is the fact that I am the first volunteer to be placed in my site. It is fantastic, as i’m constantly asked about America, and how it compares to Morocco (both interesting cross-culturally, and an opportunity to practice comparatives!) but it makes the process of “integration” in my community seem somewhat laughable. Though I am cognizant of the fact that one day, some day, I will not be a novelty to my family or the people in my town, it feels like that will never happen. The appeal of putting makeup on me and brushing my hair has not waned in the last two weeks, and doesn’t seem to be going in that direction. Not to mention the fact that the henna from my previously-blogged-about site visit fiasco has barely faded, and both the time and place have been set for it to be re-done in the very near future. I absolutely am not complaining, but all of our seminars on the importance of integrating and becoming “one” with our community are absolutely ridiculous to me right now. I am, for all intents and purposes, a walking “foreign girl” doll. Not that it’s a bad thing, i’m hamming it up if i’m going to be honest, but i wouldn’t exactly call it ‘integration’ at this point.

I realize that I haven’t had a chance to blog at all since moving here, so I should probably describe my host family for starters:

I have a mother and a father who are really wonderful, yet somewhat intimidating in that they both seem to have very strong personalities. My father is an unofficial member of the club of moroccan men who SOUND like they are always mad and shouting at you (especially over the phone via various repetitions of “kawtar, shufi! kawtar… shufi!!”- “Caity, look! Caity… look!!” as I try and navigate my way through a phone conversation with him in Arabic), though in reality they are just trying to help, or are offering you cookies and tea… quite the opposite of mad. My mother, on the other hand, is just this bad-ass lady, if you’ll pardon the expression. She’s always wearing animal prints of some kind, has tons of black Khol lining her eyes, is really beautiful, and runs the household like the laid-back moroccan version of a tight ship (i’m wondering if that even makes sense, but whatever).

My grandmother is absolutely awesome. She is just this kind of old, kooky lady with a scarf tied around her bright orange-henna dyed hair (which sticks out in crazy curls at various gaps in the head scarf, only adding to the kook effect) who’s favorite conversation to have with me is how she’s going to come back with me to America after two years, and become the fiancee of Obama. I mentioned that it could be a bit of an issue, what with Michelle seeming to really like him and all, but she just made a slash mark across her throat and proceeded to giggle for the next 20 minutes. I could tell other stories to try and elucidate her personality, but i’m pretty sure that one covers it all.

My host sisters are 13 and 18 and are both incredibly patient and empathetic. I appreciate their vigilance in conducting pop-quiz vocabulary sessions, though usually moreso in retrospect rather than at the time, as they tend to occur around 6:30 am right after i’ve woken up and stumbled to the kitchen to “help” (sit there and cut vegetables the wrong way).

The person that I have really bonded with is my older host brother’s new wife, however. I mean, i’m pretty sure i have bonded with her, in that she only speaks arabic and I’m at a toddler’s level of communicating, but there are signs that she reciprocates my feelings (or maybe just pities me the most?). The custom in Morocco after a man and a woman get married is for the woman to move to live with the man’s family. As she just married my host brother last december, she’s just moved to this town from another, relatively far village. Perhaps i’m just desperate for a connection of some kind, but I feel a kind of kinship with her, both of us being new here. Of course, the locals probably took to her a bit sooner, as she doesn’t utter phrases like “hello, you good? all good? nice! i  will walk to sbitar and i will work today with 2pm, you will walk to sbitar and me?”, but shwiya b shwiya, right? And, yesterday she brought two oranges into my room while I was folding the laundry that I spent an absurd amount of time that morning hand washing (the wrong way), and we sat and ate them together (after she took the orange from my hand and showed me how to cut it the “right” way, of course). It was nice, i’m pretty sure that if i sent her a “will you be my friend?” note, she’d definitely at least check the “maybe” box.

Well, i’m out of time and about to put my emotions on the line trying to post this, but I will hopefully be able to update in more detail soon. Fes tomorrow, and a whole new slew of things to share, inshallah!

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